Gregory Weinkauf

What's wonderful about director Claude Miller's adaptation of Ruth Rendell's novel "The Tree of Hands" is its grand capacity for compassion and complexity.

What could have become a heinous TV movie instead delivers the moving and relatable experience of being an emotionally overburdened person stuck in a world that mostly sucks.

The urge to laugh is superceded by the urge to slap everybody and command them to stop embarrassing all of humanity.

Pits good taste against rousing intellectual provocation, and, happily, allows both to win.

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.

The game is cool to watch, and the love story is assertive enough to hook even the stodgiest ESPN man.

The beasts are employed to splendid metaphorical effect, which may be lost on viewers perceiving nothing but an action romp.

As a whole it's vibrant, witty and richly detailed.

Not only is Undercover Brother the funniest spy-thriller since "The Nude Bomb" (oh, behave), it feels like the proper sequel to "The Blues Brothers," crossing all kinds of lines between cartoonish buffoonery and genuine compassion for its characters.

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

Not scary enough for its own good, Beck's Ghost Ship ends up stuck, enjoyably enough, between the Scylla of schlock and the Charybdis of camp.

Doesn't swing, doesn't score, can't make it to first base, never even drags its sorry ass out of the dugout.

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

A breezy romantic comedy, boasting a shameless silly streak.

If you love the excitement of watching golf, this Damon-Smith bore is right up your fairway.

It may be his (Greenaway's) breeziest and kindest-hearted effort to date.

The resulting project matters much and should be seen, but how much it'll be FELT depends on your specific level of patience for a director who presumes audience comprehension to be at about a fourth-grade level (at least he's a shoo-in for Hollywood).

This would be 10 times the movie if it featured an actual debate between Moore and Bush. Nonetheless, the man makes a remarkably strong case, tastefully inserting himself into the Bush-baiting only when necessary--one such stroke of brilliance involves personally urging congressmen to send their own kids to Iraq.

It's best appraised as a strong ensemble piece, a darkly dreamy slab of social commentary and definitely one of the year's best films.

It's inspiring and consistently exciting to the eye, mind and heart, as the plentiful formations -- global, but most of these English -- stimulate the imagination with their incredible beauty and complexity. Marvelous work all round.

Sometimes the 2D and 3D animation doesn't blend, and the heinous pop songs would embarrass Peter Cetera, but there's plenty to like, including a fascinating mechanical contraption and musical score both shamelessly and lovingly stolen from "The Dark Crystal."

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

This bloody stab at William Castle's 1960 gimmick flick substitutes chaos for chills.

Audiences are advised to sit near the back and squint to avoid noticing some truly egregious lip-non-synching, but otherwise the production is suitably elegant, a fine retreat from summer cinema overkill.

Fry establishes himself as an inspired, world-class talent behind the camera and delivers my favorite film of the year thus far.

Although DeSalvo performs the miracle of making these characters seem like people we actually know, occasionally her delivery definitely makes us wish we didn't.

While this road may contain too many potholes -- and plotholes -- to sustain an even ride, there are moments of greatness scattered throughout to remind us why Lynch is vital and why the French think he's so nifty.

A diverting mix of insight and spectacle, human and superhuman. This machine is built for kids, but rarely do words like "noble," "Hollywood" and "rawkin'" all apply to one movie.