Frank Scheck

Director-screenwriter Kuryla displays some talent and an audaciously daring sensibility but ultimately fails to display the assured cinematic style that would make the unsavory proceedings more palatable.

Shock to the System demonstrates that merely subverting genre conventions doesn't quite make for compelling entertainment.

Highly entertaining and frequently fascinating.

The dramatic story is related here in a somewhat diffuse and scattershot fashion that reduces some of its impact. But there is no denying its emotional resonance.

Reveals writer-director Lee Toland Krieger as a talent worth watching.

Tells a gripping story that resonates with numerous subtexts.

The admirably tasteful result is a social study far more suited for the likes of Oprah Winfrey than Jerry Springer.

So muted and internal in its focus that its entire running time feels like a preamble to a drama that never quite begins.

A failed cinematic experiment mainly notable for its fine starring performance by a pre-"Juno" Ellen Page, The Tracey Fragments provides more evidence (not that any was needed) that an extensive use of split-screen visuals is far more irritating than arresting.

For an event of such seismic social importance in the modern era, the 1969 Stonewall riots went shockingly undocumented. Almost no archival footage exists, which gives Kate Davis and David Heilbroner's documentary feature Stonewall Uprising the frustrating air of an oral history lesson. But it's a vitally important one nonetheless.

Pantoliano brings his usual degree of wily, understated humor to his role and is ably supported by the terrific ensemble, but he's unable to elevate a film that is ultimately as directionless as its protagonist.

Director Rupert Wainwright fails to bring any style to the material, not producing a fraction of the suspense or wit generated by Carpenter in the original even while working with a far lesser budget.

Stylish and well-observed while ultimately not adding up to very much.

Unfortunately, Love Object, which uncomfortably totters from psychological suspense to black comedy to pull-out-the-stops horror, never quite lives up to its bizarre premise, and despite its audacious subject matter, it will even have difficulty attaining future cult status.

A dreary indie ensemble drama about six thirtysomethings coping with the emotional aftermath of their friend's suicide, the ultra-talky and static Walking on the Sky would barely pass muster as an Off-Off-Broadway offering.

Deeply frustrating because of its brevity and its lack of solid information and historical context.

This directorial debut from C. Jay Cox is a sometimes comic melodrama.

An Argentine comedy that, despite some interestingly offbeat moments, is unlikely to reach much commercial traction on these shores.

The film is narrated by Kathleen Turner in her inimitable husky style, with the actress receiving a final credit as one of the volunteers at ground zero.

The film's saving grace are its fast pacing and generous doses of humor, the latter of which is mostly provided by Robert Patrick's sly delivery of the many wisecracks doled out by his villainous character.

Director Andrzej Bartkowiak ("Romeo Must Die") works hard to supply the appropriate grittiness, but other than a few reasonably well-staged fight sequences, the proceedings are dull and visually uninspired. Justin Marks' solemn screenplay lacks any trace of wit.

Suffers from an awkward, plodding structure that robs it of much of its dramatic effect.

Despite its copious nudity, it is less likely to incite lust among its viewers than a strong desire for a long hot shower.

Should reasonably please fans of the genre before assuming its place in the horror section of your local video store.

The latest entry in the "This film is so bad we're not screening it for critics" genre.

A visually enthralling undersea travelogue.

The ensemble cast -- ranging from an Oscar winner (De Niro) and faded action star (Seagal) to a B-movie vet (Fahey) and tabloid fodder (Lindsay Lohan, not exactly playing against type as a drugged-out, hell-raising sexpot) -- pretty much offers something for everybody.

Despite the often insightful comments by the various cast members and Shepard himself -- the film doesn't dig very deeply into the artistic process of putting on a new play. But it does offer a fascinating fly-on-the-wall perspective.

Its razor-sharp script by Christopher Markus and Stephen McFeely and the hilariously deadpan comic performances by Ben Kingsley and Tea Leoni make it a consistent pleasure.

Reveals itself to be far too stagebound to function effectively onscreen.

Perhaps best suited for younger audiences, who will be more receptive to a vital history lesson only if it's given a music video-style treatment.

Highly informative and likely to increase enrollment at film schools.

While the film doesn't fully succeed in its striving for a Hitchcock-style ambiguity in its storytelling, it is consistently engrossing in its exploration of the fine line between civic duty and vigilantism.

Well meaning but less than riveting in its execution, this documentary is far better suited for public television exposure than theatrical release.

While those in the know will undoubtedly find something to appreciate in the film's wide-ranging if amateurish stabs at satire, the vast majority will feel left out of a private joke.

Repellant to look at and fairly inscrutable, the film does at least offer vivid if at times overly broad performances from the three leads.

Unfortunately, as rendered here by the average-looking CGI effects, the characters are underwhelming in their appeal, lacking the charm of their previous animated incarnations.

From its actual and figurative scenes of cockfighting to its copious use of throbbing Brazilian music, there's little here that rises above the level of formula. But director Machado displays a sure touch in his ability to convey the sultry atmosphere of his exotic setting, and he has elicited admirably naturalistic performances from his highly attractive, youthful performers.

A less than satisfying cinematic experience.

Mainly notable for its exoticism and gorgeous scenery.

Provocative without being especially thoughtful or credible, Harry and Max registers as a severe disappointment coming from this talented filmmaker.

While hardly sophisticated in its approach and certainly not polished in its technical elements, the film does get its heartfelt message across with undeniable sincerity.

Undeniably offers cheap laughs, its most receptive audiences will likely be found in retirement-community auditoriums.

The results are always visually arresting, while the narrative, even by Maddin standards, is completely out in the ozone.

A highly awkward blending of gay porn and political satire, this latest effort from cinematic provocateur Bruce LaBruce ("Hustler White," "Skin Flick") is the sort of film John Waters would make if he were more political, less funny and completely willing to shed all aspirations of mainstream respectability.

Gunnarsson's film ultimately lacks the grandeur and wit necessary to make the legend fully come alive. Still, the film does offer certain kicks to those who like their action films infused with fantastical elements and benefits greatly from its highly effective lead performances.

Displaying his usual mixture of broad, sitcom-style humor and soapy melodramatics, it's an entertaining if hokey effort that his target audience will eat up.

Overlong and overstuffed with characters and situations, Ping Pong doesn't really succeed on a dramatic level. But there is no denying its skill in rendering its chosen milieu with an intense visual immediacy.

A rather unfocused but ultimately provocative portrait of Eastern Europe.

While much of what is said here has been recounted in previous forums -- the special Sept. 11 episode of TV's "Third Watch" being a prime example -- the redundancy doesn't deprive the commentary of its power.

Mixes comedy and melodrama to a typically baroque degree. Like his "Oldboy" and "Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance," the film displays an audacious visual and narrative style, often sacrificing credibility and coherence along the way. But there is no denying its originality.

A moving if too-leisurely paced effort that benefits immeasurably from the superb performance by its 84-year-old star.

Doesn't quite manage to elevate its subject to a sufficiently interesting level for anyone who isn't already one of its frequent visitors. A good stroll inside your nearest city park would provide a more edifying experience.

While The Empire in Africa offers a litany of talking heads and shockingly violent images in its exploration of the conflict, it is more confusing and disturbing than enlightening.

Strictly for the small-fry set, lacking the visual style, wit or imagination necessary to entice adult viewers.

A horror film dealing with the terrors lurking via our computers, cell phones and other electronic devices, Pulse isn't nearly as scary as watching your hard drive crash or having your BlackBerry conk out in the middle of a vital call.

Ultimately, the film, for all its evident verisimilitude, never really demonstrates a compelling reason for being.

Director Christian Alvart ("Pandorum") is unable to invest much stylization into the proceedings, and Ray Wright's by-the-book screenplay only serves as a reminder of the innumerable demon-child movies that have preceded this one.

The film becomes markedly more entertaining with every appearance by Walter Hagen (Jeremy Northam), Jones' archrival, a raconteur and bon vivant who, though fiercely competitive, enjoyed playing while drunk and clad in a tuxedo.

There's little to distinguish this from the rest of the entries coming down the horror film assembly line, though the presence of Carrie Fisher as a shotgun-toting housemother who taunts the killer by shouting "Come to mama!" offers some camp value.

Each of the stories, impeccably staged and acted, has just the right length, well befitting the slight aspects of their story lines. Never allowing preciousness or ponderousness to infuse the material, filmmaker Pak demonstrates a real talent for concise storytelling marked by poignancy and humor.

The film lacks narration or music, but the devastating images speak for themselves.

Unfortunately, while the film has some fascinating and compelling arguments, it quickly assumes the tone of an angry diatribe rather than a well-reasoned political discussion.

Suffers from the same occasionally heavy-handed style as its predecessors, it offers a credible indictment against the large corporations currently enjoying windfall profits thanks to the Iraq war.

A horror spoof that has little reason for being, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Undead pretty much uses up its quotient of wit with the title.

A promotional video masquerading as a documentary.

Unfortunately, there's little wit or genuine suspense to elevate the proceedings above the level of a cheesy comic book.

A top-notch varied group of actors, no doubt attracted by the colorfulness of their roles, has been assembled, but their hardworking efforts are ultimately done in by the supremely pretentious nature of the material.

Has an impressive visual style that reveals its director's music-video experience. Unfortunately, that's about all it has going for it because its sluggish pacing and confusing story line will prevent it from appealing to all but the most rabid J-horror fans.

For the most part, the proceedings are slow, solemn and tedious.

Definitely third-rate Holocaust material.

The sort of soft-core, erotic thriller that would benefit from a lot more trash and a lot more sex.

An odd little comedy drama set in Ireland that boasts more onscreen talent than it deserves.

Offers a litany of images and sound bites that are all too disturbing. Although Ever Again lacks the dramatic focus that would make it truly distinctive, it offers a timely wake-up call that should be well heeded.

The main performers do a reasonably good job of parodying the "Twilight" leads, with Proske particularly effective in subtly lampooning Kristen Stewart's moody mannerisms.

Superbly conveys its themes of despair and lost opportunities.

A giddy romp that never takes itself seriously in the slightest, and that makes Taipei look like the center of the gay universe.

A cut above the usual level of slasher films, with its overly convoluted plot enhanced by an impressive level of cinematic style. It also places a greater emphasis on surprising plot twists than gore.

What The Grand lacks in originality it more than makes up for with its high percentage of funny moments.

Ultimately lacks the textural depth and emotional precision that marks the work of obvious influences here like Robert Altman, but it does offer a pungent slice of contemporary Israeli life that should prove resonant for audiences interested in the social complexities of the region.

Although reasonably compelling to watch and featuring fine performances from its charismatic and attractive lead performers, it ultimately displays little reason for being other than to serve as a transatlantic cinematic calling card.

Mitra, clad in the requisite tight, sexy outfits, conveys a suitable toughness but little in the way of personality, while such distinguished British actors as Bob Hoskins and Adrian Lester dutifully show up to collect their paychecks.

This remake of a South Korean movie ultimately provides fewer scares than the average aging baby boomer feels every time they look into a reflective surface.

After nearly two hours of nonstop mayhem, the film ends on a surprisingly muted note, though pains have been taken to make sure that the hoped-for sequel has been carefully set up.

An eye-opener that handles its themes in a refreshingly nonexploitative manner.

An evocative examination of the clash between tradition and modernism in the handling of an age-old problem.

While the film occasionally stretches credibility and is also rather schematic in its characterizations, it tells its tale with skill and economy, and its observations about consumerist Israeli society are critically insightful without being overdone.

A dramatic story, to be sure, but not exactly grippingly told by its first-time filmmaker.

Should attract some interest in urban theatrical situations before settling into cult video status.

Along with his writing partner, actor Owen Wilson, who also plays (hilariously) a supporting role in the film, Anderson reveals himself to be a highly original comic talent, impressive both for his strongly controlled deadpan style and for providing a sense of emotional heft lacking in most mainstream film comedies.

In his director's statement, filmmaker Todd Stephens proclaims that he wants his latest effort to be "the gayest movie ever made." Damn if he doesn't succeed.

Its awkward title notwithstanding, Mugabe and the White African offers the sort of narrative drama rarely found in documentaries.

Roving Mars is bound to inspire hordes of young science geeks to dream about sending in their resumes. The rest of us may not feel so excited.

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.

As ineptly directed by Robby Henson, the violent (but not too graphically so) goings-on are largely incoherent, with matters not helped by subpar performances, laughably inane dialogue and cheap CGI effects.

Fails to overcome its recycled elements but displays a winning spirit that's hard to dislike.

Ultimately has few original aspects, but it is an intelligently wrought drama that makes it a respectable entry in the genre.

This amiable, Western-themed animated effort from the Walt Disney Co. is a clear attempt to return to the more lighthearted cartoon style that was so prevalent before its onslaught of stately musical epics.

A richly uplifting if somewhat rambling portrait of indomitableness in the face of old age and infirmity, Been Rich All My Life will be inspirational to young and old alike.

Whether outsiders will find much to appreciate in The TV Set is another question because the film fails to provide the thematic resonance of similarly themed predecessors like the brilliant "Network."

An unusually poetic and meditative eco-themed documentary, Laura Dunn's The Unforeseen is as beautiful as it is ultimately depressing.

Gives these canines the sensual elegance of the Calvin Klein models Weber has so famously photographed. Would that the substance of the film have come close to having the impact of its visuals.

The director has staged the elaborate production in his usual stately but impressive manner, and the production values boast the usual Merchant/Ivory stamp of quality.

This autobiographical tale of a 10-year-old boy coping with his mother's severe illness boasts terrific performances from its three leads -- Joe Pantoliano, Marcia Gay Harden and young Devon Gearhart.

Our Brand Is Crisis well demonstrates the international efficacy of the methods used to twice elect Bill Clinton. Unlike in "The War Room," the charismatic Carville makes but fleeting appearances in this docu, and it suffers as a result.

A clearly partisan effort -- director George Butler is a longtime Kerry friend and supporter -- the film is nonetheless bound to have some political impact, thanks to its powerful depiction of the young Kerry.

Best of all is Holm, who is consistently hilarious as the sarcastic shrink from hell.

Almost unbearably moving at times, Julie Betuccelli's simple but sublime debut feature presents a portrait of maternal love and female fortitude that will reduce the stoniest of viewers to tears.

The film, which received its world premiere at the Tribeca Film Festival, no doubt will become a mainstay of university film courses.

Scott Caan, who delivers a derivative but extremely well acted drama.

Taut, superbly executed and consistently engrossing, The Disappearance of Alice Creed marks an auspicious feature debut for writer-director J Blakeson.

While its sexy young lead performers and enjoyable dance sequences should provide some boxoffice enticement, this directorial debut from choreographer Anne Fletcher likely will score bigger on video.

With neither the dramatic nor comedic aspects of the story line being remotely convincing, the best efforts of the talented cast go for naught.

Although not without a certain cheeky, outrageous charm, Chris Kennedy's film isn't nearly as much fun as it seems to think it is.

Fateless is both haunting and poetic. It also is visually stunning.

The filmmaker clearly has a gift for incisive characterizations and dialogue, but the overall impact of the vignettes is muted by an overall artificiality.

Dull, talk-heavy snoozer that most closely resembles something that would show up on the CW network.

Best appreciated for the winning performances of its trio of stars, who convey their characters' desperation with humor and poignancy.

Although it's refreshing that Alien Trespass doesn't indulge in the sort of mindless, gross-out humor that afflicts so many current cinematic spoofs, it errs too much on the other side, offering mere pastiche instead of witty satire.

An invaluable addition to the rock history cinema archives.

It's completely undone by its terrible screenplay, inept direction, oppressive musical score and muddy visual palette.

Eventually the conventions of romantic comedy take hold, with the humor declining precipitously.

Attempts to achieve a Pedro Almodovar-level of humor without much success... Degenerating into witless slapstick.

Unfortunately lacks much in the way of compelling narrative or credible characterizations, but it once again reaffirms Huppert's place in the pantheon of French film actors.

Although Sutherland is an amiable and charismatic figure, his lack of emotional expressiveness doesn't help matters here. The film does, however, offer the spectacle of his getting a tattoo of the film's title (one of the band's songs) in Icelandic.

Follows the same formula as the first, with one difference: They've managed to ramp up the action and vulgarity beyond the insane heights of the original.

Although Criminal retains its source material's cleverness and intricate plotting, something seems to have been lost in the translation.

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

A routine mob thriller.

While the 1986 edition was no classic, it's light years better than this update, which naturally opened without being screened for those ultimate villains, the critics.

Instant fodder for drinking games, Dangerous Men is a grand testament to its filmmaker's undeniable passion, tenacity and complete lack of talent.

An action comedy that nearly renders the term an oxymoron, Killers is devoid of suspense and laughs.

Most of this is fairly predictable spoofing, and Englund is wasted as a psycho-hunting shrink clearly modeled after Donald Pleasence's character in "Halloween." But there are moments when the proceedings are unsettling and original.

The film has enough entertaining action and sly humor to please its target audience.

While this actor-filmmaker has delivered such worthy films as "A Rage in Harlem" and "Deep Cover" in the past, this misbegotten effort would be instantly forgettable if not for its potential as future camp classic.

Has little to offer besides unrelenting strangeness.

"Gift" comes across as a television-ready effort that would work perfectly for Hallmark.

Rather than delving deep into its subject, the film loses focus by concentrating on the feelings of Harlan's descendants rather than a deep analysis of the man himself.

Flirting intriguingly with film noir conventions, the film never really achieves a coherent tone in its depiction of the complicated and sometimes fatal series of events that arise.

Ultimately fails to illuminate its subject, though it does offer some evocative moments and terrific music along the way.

The Syrian Bride manages to entertain even as it both moves and amuses.

The resulting cat-and-mouse game -- occupies most of the film's running time, to gradually diminishing results.

Squanders its potentially rich possibilities.

Too outlandish to be fully convincing, this adaptation of the best-selling memoir sacrifices subtlety for broad laughs.

While the CGI effects are undeniably impressive, the laughable story line, risible dialogue and cheap humor (most of it involving a hapless zoo security guard) seriously detract from the fun.

Never really decides whether it wants to concentrate on providing information or sociological analysis, with the result that it fails to fully satisfy on either level.

Its observations seem more suited to the op-ed pages of a magazine than the big screen.

Tales of cynical curmudgeons rediscovering their humanity have long been a cinematic staple, but Wonderful World brings a refreshing lack of sentimentality to its take.

What threatened to be yet another routine exercise in raunchiness instead turns out to be a sweet, charming, hilariously funny love story that could emerge as a sleeper hit.

An earnest drama about spiritual redemption that is likely to strike quite a chord with certain audiences.

Part concert film, part narrative, it isn't fully successful on either level, coming across more like an overlong DVD extra than a fully stand-alone work.

The latest example of a distressing wave of undistinguished theatrical versions of Saturday-morning kid shows.

Michael Apted's landmark films documenting the lives of a disparate group of Brits in seven-year intervals have always been fascinating from a sociological perspective. But the latest installment proves that they are undeniably brilliant cinematically as well.

There is no denying the passion or intelligence of this work, which is meant to be an encouragement to explore the films for ourselves rather than a dry history lesson. On that level, "Viaggio" fully succeeds.

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

It uses numerous hoary techniques -- including tabloid-television-style editing and ominous background music -- that tend to detract from the seriousness of the issues being addressed. Morgan Freeman delivers the portentous narration.

Unfortunately, the film lacks the hypnotizing strangeness of Foreman's best stage efforts and also pales in comparison to cinematic works like Matthew Barney's far more ambitious "Cremaster" series.

While it does render scientific and philosophical principles in a highly accessible format, the film is nonetheless a real chore to sit through.

This tale of the team that for a brief period in the 1970s promised to popularize soccer in the U.S. has it all: heroes, villains, sex and, oh yes, some sports as well.

An impassioned ecology-themed documentary that ultimately is more rewarding for informational than cinematic reasons.

Not only doesn't provide any real information, it barely manages to convey why we should care. It represents a true squandering of a potentially fascinating subject.

By-the-numbers screen parody fails to resurrect an increasingly tired genre.

While all this might have made for a potent short subject, the abstract visual monotony begins to wear thin shortly into the 98-minute running time.

The film is a relentlessly loud and ultimately exhausting exercise only partially leavened by the usual heavy doses of wisecracking humor and visual gags.

The filmmakers are clearly most interested in re-creating the murders in a gruesome and repugnant fashion. It's a shame the film is so exploitative, because Howell and especially Turturro deliver chilling, all too convincing performances.

More interesting conceptually than dramatically, Eric Nicholas' thriller Alone With Her boasts a highly clever technological conceit, albeit one that was exploited many years ago to a lesser degree in "The Anderson Tapes."

At least a fright-wigged Joe Mantegna, delivering an execrable cameo as a whacked-out doctor, has a good excuse for his presence; the writer-director is one of his former film students.

Eventually gets so bogged down in its own quirkiness that its humanistic message gets lost.

The sketchy characterizations, laughable dialogue and less-than-stellar performances by the formidable cast, all of whom have done far better work in the past, provide further reasons why Darkness should never have seen the light of day.

Proves to be an engrossing and entertaining polemic that successfully walks a fine line between thoughtful debate and, well, juicy gossip.

Far too bloody for the art house crowd and too leisurely paced and obscure for more general audiences.

There's no denying that it is often outrageous fun, and the news that Fragasso and Drudi are working on a script for "Troll 2: Part 2" is but the icing on a very nasty cake.

Fortunately, unlike so many similarly politically themed documentaries, the film makes its case with substantial intelligence and conviction.

Sacrifices the quietly creepy qualities of the original in favor of ramped-up horror film techniques that by now seem distressingly familiar.

The 3-D effects come fast and furious, rendered with a technical skill and humor that gives this otherwise strictly formulaic slasher picture whatever entertainment value it possesses.

Ultimately suffers from an overabundance of plot and a paucity of depth, but it does provide some fleeting comic pleasures along the way.

The film's chief asset is its superbly atmospheric evocation of its period milieu.

Visual artist and filmmaker Matthew Barney's follow-up to his acclaimed "Cremaster" film series continues this provocateur's penchant for outrageous imagery and numbing non-narratives.

While director-screenwriter Preston A. Whitmore II's film is to be admired for its proponing the values of a higher education over the dream of a career in the NBA, its dialogue, characterizations and situations rarely transcend the level of cliche.

Although more than a little familiar in its road movie-style romantic banter and bickering, the film is easy to take for a number of reasons, including the witty and frequently caustic dialogue. Modest in its aspirations, "Race You" succeeds by not trying to do too much.

Unfortunately, the back story behind FireDancer is ultimately more interesting than the finished product, a thematically ambitious but rough-hewn combination of love story and examination of cultural dislocation.

Ultimately has the air of a home movie project blown up to feature-length proportions.

Very much reminiscent of "Napoleon" in numerous ways only minus the wit, the film is made somewhat palatable by its inherent sweetness and its treatment of typical adolescent angst.

The performances are excellent all around, with Scott mesmerizing as the emotionally volatile Laevsky and the gorgeous Glascott making vividly clear why her character drives all the surrounding men to distraction.

Wastes its promising premise with a wavering tone that veers uneasily between camp humor and, pardon the expression, straightness.

Well acted and smartly written, the film is an eye-opening sociological portrait that also manages to be a compelling human drama.

Designed to capitalize on the title and premise of the original but offers little to those who fondly remember it.

These talented performers star in two of the wittiest, most sophisticated sitcoms on the air, but for this movie pairing they're stuck with an endlessly silly plot line and overblown physical mayhem that is instantly forgettable. The fact that they make it so funny nonetheless is a testament to their abilities.

Inconsequential but intermittently charming.

While plenty of information is imparted in the impassioned proceedings, the film loses some impact because of its lack of a compelling structure.

A slow-paced and often confusingly plotted crime drama that never lives up to the delicious potential of its premise.

A love story that veers uneasily between mysticism and melodrama.

The film doesn't have much in the way of genuine laughs despite a plethora of attempted gags, but it does have a geniality that makes it hard to entirely dislike.

While the arguments obviously will be digested differently according to the viewer's preconceived notions, the impressive credentials of the witnesses, most of them former insiders rather than mere pontificators, give their arguments an undeniable credibility.

Unfortunately, the screenplay contains little real wit, with the result that the various plot machinations have a strained quality that tends to reduce the proceedings of their intended giddiness. On the other hand, the performers are attractive; there's plenty of nudity; the setting is scenic, and the musical numbers -- well, they're pretty bad.

Oh, "Blair Witch," what hath thou wrought? It has taken less than a decade, but the concept of horror films filmed documentary-style has officially become a tiresome cliche.

In effect an elaborate home movie. But its examination of the long-lasting effects of evil on the psyche of its victims and their descendants is both thoughtful and much needed in these increasingly polarized times.

Although Cinevardaphoto is hardly a major work, it does represent the latest (and earlier) chapters in the career of a fascinating filmmaker.

Cursed, a modern-day werewolf tale that fails to provide either Craven's trademark chills or Williamson's trademark satirical wit, is a distinctly subpar film that, but for the current boxoffice streak enjoyed by such formulaic genre entries, deserved to go direct to video.

A well-meaning but hopelessly stilted melodrama, Hate Crime sacrifices good intentions with its mediocrity of execution.

Ultimately adds up to less than the sum of its parts. But it possesses a visual power, as well as a lingering resonance, that gives it a certain distinction.

Powerful enough to make even the most cynical believe in the ability of ordinary people to induce political change.

The film should please his (Sokurov's) fans even while proving a frustrating, tedious experience for most art house audiences.

Comes as a godsend to those hordes of desperate parents unable to secure tickets for their heartsick tweens during the teen star's sellout tour last year.

Ultimately stronger on characterization and atmosphere than narrative. But its portrait of a society torn apart by, among other things, religious fundamentalism, is all too currently resonant.

It does offer plenty of musical numbers and an impressionistic portrait of his life and times.

Boasts an undeniable technical proficiency and historical authenticity, but this docudrama detailing assassin Mark David Chapman's obsession, stalking and eventual murder of the beloved Beatle nonetheless has an unavoidably exploitative feel.

Zlah H. Hamzeh's documentary is a powerful and timely portrait of the tensions that can be generated by immigration situations, especially in a post-Sept. 11 world.

A grim little drama about a young woman's experiences with a left-wing cult, Alison Murray's debut feature suffers from disjointed storytelling and myriad other problems, including a bizarre reliance on modern dance sequences to interrupt the action.

Fascinatingly ambiguous tale and bizarre cast of characters make it one of the more entertaining documentaries in recent memory.

Director Darren Lynn Bousman, who also helmed the past two installments, doesn't deviate from the stylistic formula, which includes grinding industrial music, frenzied editing and a blue-gray color palette.

Combining the influences of Italian neorealism with Dickensian melodrama, Andrei Kravchuk's simultaneously tough-minded and sentimental The Italian is as bracing as it is moving.

For connoisseurs of stories of show business near-disasters, "Bells" is compelling viewing.

A particularly nasty slice of medical-themed horror, Marc Scholermann's film is the sort of thriller in which the tenderest scene depicts an autopsy.

The lame gags, ineptly staged, don't produce anything in the way of genuine laughs, though there is the occasional funny line.

Indie coming-of-age dramas are not exactly an endangered species, but Michael Kang's debut drama is an admirably intelligent and modest example of the genre.

This ultra-violent revenge thriller is far more notable for its baroque excesses than coherence or credibility.

Claustrophobic, tedious sci-fi thriller.

Featuring one-note characterizations, laughable dialogue, an overwrought musical score and technically poor filmmaking values, the film ultimately is utterly reprehensible.

The film possesses a quiet but powerful tension.

Features a fine performance by Angela Bassett, but her work is the sole subtle element.

Too much of the proceedings are silly rather than horrifying, with the nadir being the appearance of some particularly athletic Yetis who briefly pitch in to lend a hand.

All too ironically titled as it details in lethargic and sometimes convoluted fashion the stories of the many heroic and often unsung figures involved.

Ultimately a powerful portrait of the sort of apocalyptic culture clash that is resulting in an increasingly dangerous and fragmented world.

Although not exactly original in its aspirations or execution, the film's engaging performances and occasional funny moments lift it a notch above the pack of similarly themed fare.

Transporter 2 really does deliver the goods.

A would-be provocative satire that too often settles for sitcom-grade silliness, The Infidel represents an opportunity wasted.

Lacks the finesse to attract significant attention beyond its target audience.

Unlikely to inspire a passionate following similar to the original, the film, which opened Friday without being screened for the press, ultimately induces more titters than dread.

An unfortunately muddled portrait of a teenage girl going through a moral and spiritual crisis.

The leisurely narrative is barely able to sustain the film's full-length running time, and some of the obviously staged sequences involving the family of shepherds are annoyingly hokey. Nonetheless, "Weeping Camel" has an undeniable appeal.

Lacks the powerful focus of the filmmaker's debut effort and often flounders under the weight of its melodrama and contrivances. But it also boasts many well-observed moments and features stellar performances by its youthful cast.

Scott's film chronicling the rise of one of the world's fastest-growing sport is best geared to fans, presenting those of us with merely a casual interest with far too much information and repetitive footage of snowboarders in action.

This less than subtly titled documentary by Mark Birnbaum and Jim Schermbeck will undoubtedly find few viewers.

Oddly bereft of scares or tension, the film is mainly notable for its sustained atmosphere of weirdness.

What could have served as a colorful episode in a more expansive film about the famed singer has instead become the premise of a mildly entertaining but overextended road movie that doesn't succeed on either dramatic or comedic terms.

Ultimately neither funny nor touching enough to make much of an impact, but it does offer many small, insightful moments along the way.

Effectively creates a menacing atmosphere within the gleaming white halls of the hospital in which it is set, but its story line and characterizations lack the sufficient originality to lift the film above its many better predecessors.

Ultimately, the film staggers under the weight of its pretensions, its plot spiraling into murky illegibility.

The filmmaker's attempt to explore the outer boundaries of erotic and violent obsession are undone by the murkiness of the execution, and only the highly committed and forceful performances by the two leads give the aptly titled Bad Guy any distinction.

While Stanford is more annoying than endearing as the self-righteous slacker, the charming Deschanel provides the film with its few moments of genuine fun with her offbeat turn as the wily, put-upon girlfriend.

Rue plays her with just the right combination of sweetness, sexuality and sass.

The actor's compelling self-exposure, physically and emotionally, draws us into such a degree that we genuinely come to care about his well-being.

This tale of domestic abuse breaks little new stylistic or psychological ground, but it is a searing, well-acted drama that should strike universal chords.

Filmmaker Leon Gast ("When We Were Kings") paints an entertaining portrait of the still-working 79-year-old photographer.

Sequins will tax the patience of most viewers not enthralled with endless close-ups of beads and brocades.

While My Country, My Country is hardly an exhaustive depiction of its subject, it provides much in the way of material and perspectives previously unexposed.

The film's unrelenting bleakness and misanthropic tone is likely to be a turnoff to mainstream performances, but it provides its lead actor with another opportunity to display his riveting intensity.

Ultimately, there's not enough material to sustain a feature-length film, and the sloppy editing, cheesy re-enactments and cheap graphics don't exactly make for compelling viewing.

This would-be cult film is unlikely to inspire "Rocky Horror"-style devotion.

Achieves a certain cinematic distinction by outdoing "Dumb and Dumber" in sheer grossness and detail with its depiction of the unfortunate effects of explosive diarrhea.

Another effective civics lesson that, unfortunately, will probably never be seen by the people whose minds it seeks to change.

A highly informative if rather hagiographic portrait of the notable playwright and performer, The Lady in Question Is Charles Busch should prove quite enticing for the legions of fans who have followed him throughout his career.

David Duchovny delivers a clearly heartfelt but terminally mawkish and awkward directorial debut in House of D.

A surprisingly frank effort that demonstrates that the country's censors may be loosening their reins. This well-acted portrait of a young single mother displays a universality that should translate well to the art house circuit.

This contemporary riff on "The Sunshine Boys" generally manages to succeed anyway, thanks to the entertaining performances by Mac and co-star Samuel L. Jackson and its generous doses of raucous humor and sweet soul music.

A heartwarming and moving adventure that does excellent justice to the classic character.

Marshall, a veteran stage director/choreographer who proved his cinematic skills with his television adaptations of the musicals Cinderella and Annie, does a superb job here, beautifully contrasting the gritty storyline with the hard-edged musical numbers.

A feel-good tale with undeniably good intentions, this Canadian comedy-drama doesn't really manage to convince on any level.

Scenes of dark humor abound as well, like the episode in which the gathered journalists react in fury when they are not provided with pictures of the infamous deck of playing cards depicting the "50 Most Wanted" Iraqi figures.

This Divided State will become yet one more largely forgotten cinematic footnote to an election notable for its divisiveness.

Genuine scares are few and far between, and the climactic explanation for the ghost's appearances comes as something less than a revelation.

Ultimately comes across as a soporific costume drama featuring a gallery of miscast stars.

While the experience may have been highly rewarding for its participants, viewers may be less than enthralled.

Ultimately Adam & Steve mainly goes to prove that indie gay romantic comedies can be just as witless, vulgar and over the top as their straight, major studio counterparts.

Fails to live up to even the feeble potential of its premise.

By the time it reaches its final act, the film rivals its American counterparts in intensity if not quite in explicit violence.

Entertaining and substantive enough to be interesting even for those completely unfamiliar with weaves and relaxers.

A thoughtful, provocative effort that makes up for its narrative failings with its astute philosophical musings.

Ultimately a less-than-satisfying cinematic meal.