Gregory Weinkauf

The story's a trifle, but it's consistently edgy as the team stride straight into the middle of grisly violence so they can capture it on film.

These pandas, they're truly wondrous on the big screen, as no digital effect could ever recreate. Director Robert M. Young delivers a spry, richly detailed adventure for general audiences, truly a feat deserving acclaim.

The new version by Harold Ramis trots out a load of bargain-rack gags, tarted up with pricey effects for the A.D.D. generation. Woe to those who cannot leave well enough alone.

This tripe, however, isn't worth your time or our ink.

A bucket of crap, but at well under 90 minutes it's a small bucket, and half the crap is amusing.

Hovers curiously short of its full potential for mirth and mayhem. Still, the movie is more fair than foul, and it succeeds well enough as a freakish experiment and mockery of all concerned.

It is unfortunate that von Trotta does not trust her audience enough to think for themselves -- her themes are carved on a sledgehammer en route to our skulls.

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 it stands, it's cute, occasionally poignant and outrageously implausible.

The movie remains engaging, with a couple of sequences verging on stunning.

Sometimes the laughs here seem unintentional, but most giggles are properly earned, and the movie's fun and exciting if you can accept its inherent camp factor.

Ryan's performance burns with a rare and passionate veracity. The other half of the delight comes from director Jane Campion, whose sensualist eye and scabrous heart infuse In the Cut with guts and glory.

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

The result is visually slick, almost shockingly simpleminded, kinda redundant and only adequately satisfying. Alas, for their dramatic wrap-up the Wachowskis' storytelling now feels less intriguing than merely dutiful.

Heartbreakers' implausible level of comedy just grows tedious, as it's neither smartly witty nor full-throttle absurd.

Any story's a good story if it's told well, and this one is, with chuckles to spare.

I Am David is by far the best after-school special to hit the big screen this season.

While it's marvelously refreshing to observe Mother Nature obliterating L.A. and New York along with caricatures of ghastly world leaders, almost everything good is in the trailer, save perhaps brief run-ins with malevolent wolves and Ian Holm.

Immediately disarming for its candor, verve, and sheer nerve.

Maybe Baby is Elton's stab at romantic comedy, and it's a strong feature debut, spiffy, quick-witted and more than a little shocking in its unflinching acknowledgement of English people having sex.

A strong contender for Worst Picture of All Time.

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.

Whatever your orientation, these bosom buddies are bound to charm you, and perhaps by joining them, the very talented MacLachlan may continue to find work.

Ambitious in scope and humble in execution.

For all its brilliantly brazen sequences and energetic supporting players (as the young lovers' mothers, Brenda Blethyn and Lisa Banes are terrific), Pumpkin's abrupt shifts of mood and needlessly complicated ending(s) render its latter third a bit of a chore.

If you happen to be seeking a fairly cute film concerning occultism, torture, and murder, here ya go.