Henry Cabot Beck

An absurdist Eastern European version of "The Godfather," starring the Marx Brothers (and sisters and nephews and...).

The design of the film is wonderful, the animation everything one comes to expect from a Disney picture, and the jokes fly by so fast.

A very ambitious film that goes places few films have dared.

A minimum of fuss and a welcome lack of clichés. For these things alone, Tumbleweeds should be not only praised, but seen

A fascinating study. What might surprise audiences, though, is how droll the picture is, how much of the violence is just slapstick, and how much deadpan humor is running throughout the film.

Has moments of terrific lucidity, even brilliance.

By no means any kind of masterpiece, but viewed as one might any number of American or European independents of similar theme and nature, it not only stands its ground, but is at times one or two notches better than many of them.

Perhaps the most remarkable documentary project ever undertaken, and certainly the longest, is Michael Apted's Up series, which he began shooting for the BBC in 1962.

A class act, from top to bottom.

A decent, smart, well-acted film.

Resonates with the fluorescent horror of real-life high school, something few movies about this generation have managed to successfully capture.

A modest picture with quiet ambitions that is likely to disappear into that lush tropical rainforest where so many films of this sort, some much worse and others much better, have all gone in time. Catch it while you can.

Westerners may find the religious aspects wearying and a little fantastic. The Color of Paradise is both parable and fable, a retelling of Isaac and Abraham.

Unlikely to draw the audience it deserves, but those who do see it will have a hard time shaking its gentle, ghostly echoes.

Audiences willing to wade knee deep in the muck and mire of the human abyss are advised to seek out Humanité at the local arthouse.

Every bit as reverent as "Schindler's List," and no less successful.