Frank Scheck

There is no denying the emotional impact of the story, which is powerfully conveyed in this important, deeply moving documentary.

Mad as Hell is far too subjective to take seriously.

Beautifully acted by its ensemble of mostly non-professional actors, The Citizen puts a very human face on a topic that has inflamed much of the Western world.

If ultimately the highly talky Saraband comes across as a minor entry in the canon, it nonetheless marks a dignified farewell for one of cinema's greatest directors.

Schickel's documentary, narrated by Sydney Pollack, breaks no new ground stylistically, but it is a well-organized, informative and inevitably entertaining portrait of the man who revolutionized screen comedy and who arguably became the first mass-market, commercialized media figure.

This tale of a despondent man's attempt to find someone to help him commit suicide never really hits the emotional heights it should; it may be that the film's proponents are confusing simplicity with profundity. [30 Sept 1997]

Featuring endless scenes that defy credibility..Any Day truly succumbs to mawkishness in its final act.

Madtown is an intriguing drama featuring well-drawn characters and incisive dialogue.

The two main characters are both so funny, human and touching that Sunset Story ultimately possesses an emotional quality missing from many similarly themed efforts.

The film handles its admittedly familiar themes in uncommonly sensitive fashion.

Aida's Secrets unravels its complex scenario in compelling, page-turner mystery fashion, proving yet again that truth can be much stranger than fiction.

All the well-crafted effort has unfortunately been expended on a tired and overly familiar story that never registers as anything more than a compendium of horror-film clichés.

For all its effective atmospherics and performances, Don't Go has an inevitably familiar feel.

A deeply dispiriting portrait of the systemic persecution of the LGBT community in Uganda, the country that seems to be ground zero for homophobia.

Writer-director Kelker never establishes a consistent tone, eventually aiming for a tragic conclusion that feels hopelessly unearned.

Shines a much deserved spotlight on this unheralded artist.

Dealing with its potentially discomfiting subject matter with sensitivity, insight and humor, the pic marks an auspicious debut for its director-screenwriter, who also plays a supporting role.

Comprising seven individual films with a cumulative running time of more than 8 1/2 hours, Have You Heard From Johannesburg (the title comes from a Gil Scott-Heron song) naturally will find a more receptive home on television and home video, but New York's Film Forum, presenting it in three parts, is to be commended for giving the series its world theatrical premiere.

For all its fandom and self-indulgence, Dear Mr. Watterson does offer some insightful musings about the decline of comic strips in general, with their content ever shrinking due to the diminished state of the newspaper industry.

Refreshingly free of the tired human-interest personality profiles that afflict sports documentaries on both the big and small screens, director Eryk Rocha has created an impressionistic, visually stunning cinematic essay.

Gariépy, masterful in her emotional and physical exactness, is a revelation as the enigmatic Kelly-Anne, whose stringent control over herself and her environment masks a sick compulsion whose origins we can only guess at.

Serves to not only put a very human face on this horrific condition but also as a triumphant valedictory of Campbell's poignant farewell tour.

Although overlong and diffuse, Oasis, written and directed by Lee Chang-dong, boasts many powerful moments.

The resulting journey of self-discovery is not exactly profound in its revelations, but as usual with McElwee's efforts the proceedings are enlivened by his droll, witty narration, delivered in a sonorous tone.

The sort of lumbering epic drama that went out of fashion by the late 1960s, For Greater Glory is mainly notable for shedding light on a little-known historical conflict, namely the Cristero War that took place in 1920s Mexico.

It’s a compelling story told in largely engaging fashion, anchored by Dano’s terrific turn as the eccentric, strong-willed Gill, who becomes an unlikely folk hero.

Dolphin Reef benefits greatly from the gorgeous cinematography and canny editing typical of Disney nature docs as well as Portman's soothingly lighthearted, bedtime story-style narration that turns serious at just the right times.

In this enjoyable if trivial battle between von Trier's psychodrama theatricality and Leth's cool formalism, it's ultimately the viewer who comes out the winner.