F. X. Feeney

Writer-director Gianni Amelio masterfully chronicles the ways two people can betray each other, and especially themselves, in the name of love.

It's a first-rate chamber piece for actors, but Julie Christie brings a particularly layered depth to what could have been a very flat role; a combination of bereaved mother and castaway wife. Her torment and her intermittent joys are so fully communicated that they anchor the film.

A smart, romantic, heartbreaking pleasure.

First-time director Baltasar Kormakur -- balances tones with a smooth, mature confidence.

A refreshing breakaway from both idolatry and cynicism.

As an audience member, you end up feeling like a sucker for even having tolerated that sickly sweet notion about a father, a son, and their silly radio.

Chilean-born actress Leonor Varela (TV's Cleopatra, a few seasons back) plays Chavo's mother, who, in her rage to see her children survive, powerfully embodies the film's moral center.

It is worthy of comparison to the lifelike, character-rich films we cherish from that era (1970s), and is certainly one of the finest films to come out this year.

Demonstrating yet again that he knows few limits as an actor, Duvall not only nails the accent, he inhabits the man's flinty, grudge-bearing contrariness with such a furious commitment that it brings out the best in the actors around him.

Mystery Men gives proof that satire isn't dead.

Above all, you've got Jennifer Grey, as a rich girl summering in the Catskills and falling for her working-class dance instructor, played by Patrick Swayze. The chemistry between them is red-hot, and they're wonderful dancers.

Writer-director David Jacobson has an excitingly clear-eyed, unsentimental feel for the intensity of adolescent passion.

LaGravenese (writer of "The Fisher King," adapter of "The Bridges of Madison County," making his directorial debut) eschews distractions of style and molds our attention to the performances.

The love that grows between Fish and Poinsettia could have turned treacly in the wrong hands, but director Charles Burnett -- has the direct observational style of the silent masters.

Writer-director Sebastian Cordero wrings nerve-racking suspense, and complex performances, from these dynamics.

Among the pleasures the film evokes, as few films have, is the bliss of conversation.

You come away from Boiler Room eager to see what Younger will do next.

It's a fresh installment in what appears to be a self-perpetuating sitcom of British life.

Though the film overall is as disposable as a hot dog, it is just as enjoyable.

Excellent performances.

A superb film by any measure, as deep and harsh as the sin Dillon committed to become great.

Seen in the bowl's metaphoric reflection, Nolte's Adam, with his patronizing wish to build a great art museum to "give something back" to the poor laborers who built his fortune, is a complex American monster.

The main body of the film earns comparison with the military parables of John Ford, particularly "The Long Gray Line" and "The Wings of Eagles."

A sharp, upbeat, well-wrought meditation on love and race that kicks the new year in movies off to a terrific start.

One's laughter builds on such a rising curve that memories of its flaws burn away.

A fascinating tragedy, easy to underrate.

The film works, cleanly, without any tiresome reliance on computer graphics.

The good news is that they've resurrected a franchise with wonderful potential and may eventually grow bored enough of recapping past triumphs to take it in more daring directions.