Gregory Weinkauf

Thing is, movie's 100 percent mystery-free, but mildly creative, mixing Psych 101 with cynical Hollywood in-jokes with Tylenol-sponsored grainy-cam footage. Best revelation is source of Myers' superhuman strength: eats big rats, apparently.

Knockout's heart is in the right place, but it drags because of tedious earnestness and shallow "You go, girl!" feminism.

This movie's just so-so, but at its heart lies a true leading lady.

Happily, then, the first movie of the Harry Potter series casts a splendid spell, as screenwriter Steve Kloves has transcribed J.K. Rowling's novel nearly to a T, with precious little tweaked or trimmed.

Astonishing, haunting and lyrical on its own terms.

Exactly as you may expect, this thing is good for a few cheap little laughs and no more.

Despite the presence of several sublimely cracked actors and some of the most abrasive white-trash caricatures since "Raising Arizona," Birch totally owns this movie.

Happily stuck between a rock and the deep blue sea.

While the movie is frequently sharp and funny and weirdly relatable, the material feels too much like reality.

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.

What's somewhat ironic about Bread and Roses is that it's bound to be more interesting to people outside of L.A. than in it.

Writer-director-actor Cedric Klapisch simultaneously shows great moviemaking flair and reveals a very peculiar worldview.

If only the sum of this thunderously self-important "true story" outweighed its often fabulous parts, but it resorts to throwing up hollow icons in that most ignoble of losses, the expensive mediocrity.

Ultimately it's an ugly, insipid rape fantasy, nothing more.

A strong contender for Worst Picture of All Time.

Hypochondriacs and germ freaks may dig it.

One of this year's best films--a classic, even, like a C.S. Forester "Hornblower" story on steroids.

Director Kevin Rodney Sullivan (How Stella Got Her Groove Back) and editor Paul Seydor serve it up beautifully.

A very dull movie.

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

Sharp, smart and robustly engaging film.

Startlingly, this is not the trite beer commercial one might expect.

Very sketchily based upon "The Reluctant Debutante" (minus the charm, plot, and characterization).

Smart, wry and awesome, all at once.

The film successfully walks the thin line between slick commercialism and "serious" realism. It is sentimental, but it comes by its sentiment honestly, through well-observed performances by the leads and a keen insight into the quirks of the Japanese middle-class culture.

A vicious, hard-core version of "Thelma and Louise," going nowhere near the Grand Canyon but leaving a trail of carnage in their wake.

Sensational yet sadly unsatisfying.

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