Gregory Weinkauf

A piquant entertainment and zeitgeist reflector designed to embolden little thrashettes.

You'll laugh a lot, but not without a sense of animal desperation.

Grand entertainment in the old-fashioned sense.

A small but grand expression of the beauty of the feminine, which brings everyone together with revised and deepened appreciation.

Rarely does an established filmmaker so ardently waste viewers' time with a gobbler like this -- it's pretty shocking that this thing isn't even artsy. Barring a few brief moments of instantaneously fizzling inspiration, it's merely fartsy.

It's beautiful and obvious, a dubious combination that may nonetheless ensure its success.

"Homespun" is the first word that leaps in while contemplating Young's charming and moving treatise on provincial America and its deceptively simple denizens.

It's a noble work, an elegant work, a compassionate work -- and a somewhat tedious and glaringly self-important work.

This project is not the last word on Fellini, nor does it replace the director's bizarre self-portraits in Intervista or the TV special A Director's Notebook. It even irritates a bit, as none of the speakers is identified until the end.

Argento knows how to work her stuff, and the result is by turns saucy and grody, a fat lasagna of yesterday's "extreme" behavior dripping with Euro cheesiness.

As a thriller, The Butterfly Effect is iffy and uneven, but as a portrait of a people, it's effective and intriguing.

For three jerks bitching in a box, Tape makes the most of its minimalism. At its best, it's Betrayal for the Breakfast Club set.

A mess, but it's a rousing mess, with ample humor and action to satisfy the discerning dullard within.

The stately pacing and meandering plot often reduce this potential classic to generous eye candy.

Like its namesake, this Simon Mágus is wise and elemental, sure to leave you pensive afterward.

Quills is bound to titillate some, but for most it's likely to summon little more than a few Oscars and appreciative yawns.

Director Mick Jackson (L.A. Story) delivers playful and charming teens-turned-30 moxie.

Hasty pacing makes for a rich and exciting movie, but not an especially spooky or spellbinding one.

Distinguishes itself by its subtlety and good taste. Even if we catch a hint of gypsy music on the soundtrack -- or glimpse a disturbing American neighbor lady -- Gardos steadfastly guards us from caricature. She wants to keep it real.

Nói makes a stab at tragic romance.

This modest project is all about atmosphere and reflection, and, as such, it is successful.

The songs are actually quite good--if also hideously embarrassing--but these comedians take their roles far too seriously, to their peril and our puzzlement.

Heavy with mood and Finn's fine music, Jeffs' debut feature merely moistens us when we should be soaked. Maybe next time she'll let it all come down.

Director Christopher B. Stokes (House Party 4) shapes up the fabulous dance sequences with undeniable energy, and real-life brothers Houston and Grandberry are two of the most enjoyable musicians to appear onscreen since Sting played a bellboy.

There's too much self-congratulatory showbiz overkill, and one is forced to wonder exactly who is getting paid, and how much, for leading this parade in his honor. Otherwise, this project makes it easy for anyone to understand the sanctified, semi-crazed star and the elements that created and destroyed him.

While this production from Michael Douglas is being touted as a sexy romantic comedy, it's more precise to think of it as big loud fun for when you're feelin' dumb.

Here's a popcorn movie with soul, welcoming the masses to consider how much can change in popular culture over 30 years, as the horrific becomes the familiar.

The creators of Alexander set out to make an epic, and they can't be faulted for the many elements that succeed on this scale; what's unfortunate is that they don't quite deliver a camp classic.