Jonathan Foreman

Overall, this sci-fi/martial arts hybrid has the stale aura of a product assembled out of bits of other action movies.

Isn't just scary, charming and delightfully unpredictable - it's also smarter and subtler than any new movie out there.

Quickly morphs into a messy double message movie with motifs and clichés lifted from military courtroom films like "A Soldier's Story" and "A Few Good Men."

Unfortunately, Scorpion King has none of the qualities -- epic sweep, relative originality and heartfelt bloodthirstiness -- that made "Conan" so trashily entertaining.

Presents an intelligent, profound and at times heartrending slice of Taiwanese middle-class existence - as seen by characters at different stages of life.

Would be a perfectly decent B-action movie if it weren't shipwrecked in the last act by laughably ridiculous plotting and a lazily executed climax.

A cold, emptily stylish exercise -- and one that sorely lacks the speed and vigor that made "Lola" run.

Uses the compelling true story of the triumph of the Enigma code-breakers as background for an invented but believable story of love, betrayal and heroism.

Disappointing and surprisingly crude.

A remarkable accomplishment. It takes one of the century's vast tragedies...and makes it heart-rendingly real and intimate.

Works just fine as a generic but fast-paced - and rather ugly - cop buddy flick.

Simply not up to the task.

Perhaps no movie could do Muhammad Ali justice. But this overlong but sketchy biopic by Michael Mann, in which style repeatedly tramples substance, actually does the great man a disservice.

For all its virtues, this is not a film to see on less than a good night's sleep.

Plays to none of Rock's strengths (even though he co-wrote the film with members of his HBO team) and intensifies his tendency to mug and shout.

Warm and charming and often witty, it's as good a romantic comedy as has come out for some time, with an endearing, perfectly pitched central performance that's a four-square triumph for Zellweger.

Despite its visual brilliance, its all-round cleverness, and the way it demonstrates a profound understanding of genre, the Coen brothers' The Man Who Wasn't There doesn't quite come off.

Isn't really a movie: It's a grab bag of mobster clichés lifted without finesse from "A Bronx Tale," "GoodFellas" and at least a score of lesser Mafia flicks.

There are some decent jokes along the way. And none of the performances is bad. But they are limited by the script, which allows each character only one comic note.

Generic memoir of lower-middle-class "white ethnic" life in the '50s.

As mechanical and predictable as a cuckoo clock, it shouldn't work half as well as it does.

Though On the Run is a welcome reminder that effective thrillers don't have to be noisy or dumb, the film does contain slightly jarring moments of inadvertent humor.

Often charming and sweet, and always prettily photographed.

Boasts some genuinely intelligent and funny sequences and some nicely painful scenes of domestic tension - as well as surprisingly strong performances from actors like Neve Campbell and Donald Sutherland.

Rapturously elegant and deeply sexy in a deliciously restrained way. One of the most romantic movies I have ever seen, right up there with "Brief Encounter"and "Casablanca."

If the movie were funny, the implicit sermonizing would be more tolerable, but apart from four or five good one-liners, The Next Best Thing is a thudding failure as a comedy.

The most enjoyable western comedy since "Blazing Saddles."

A crowd-pleasing ensemble piece, whose story goes exactly where you want it to.

Turns out to be a choppily written, unevenly acted exercise, no less shlocky and predictable than any of Hollywood's average second-string heterosexual comedies.

A cast almost talented enough to distract you from Ted Griffin's gimmicky screenplay.

The characters are tired stereotypes, the sentimentality nauseating and the situation comedy way below the standards of the very worst WB or UPN shows.

With uncommon ineptitude even by the standards of contemporary action flicks, Kyle's script submerges the inherently dramatic tale of the K-19 under a pile of clichés, while failing to tell you enough about the characters for their actions to make much sense.

Though it sometimes feels as if it's four hours long, Underworld has going for it an intriguing fantasy premise, an eventful plot and a look that is diverting, if finally a bit monotonous.

Laughably predictable in its plotting, crude in its symbolism, ploddingly paced and often rendered almost comical by the heavy-breathing overacting of Johansson's supporting cast.

Spectacular special effects and sets.

If you have the patience, its almost endless silences and extremely slow pacing eventually pay off.

Amateurish in the extreme, the film is a feast of bohemian cliché, bad writing and worse acting.

Could have been written by a computer programmed to cannibalize previous sci-fi films.

It's hoary and clunky even by the low standards of contemporary thrillers.

A lean, deftly shot, well-acted, weirdly retro thriller that recalls a raft of '60s and '70s European-set spy pictures. There are even moments when you hope it could turn into a modern "Charade."

Although Scary Movie 3 boasts the same relaxed attitude to racial and sexual humor, some of the same eye for movieland ridiculousness, along with the usual cameos (Pamela Anderson and Simon Cowell), it lacks a single explosive, roll-on-the-floor gag, and too often repeats and belabors jokes that are merely OK.

An embarrassing misfire...feels like a long, slow TV pilot about L.A. twentysomethings, only it lacks the polish and wit of your average sitcom.

Despite inadequate editing and overreliance on bad background music, The Girl Next Door doesn't disappoint.

There's no limit to Coyote Ugly's crass shamelessness.

A reminder of just how good Hollywood storytelling can be.

What follows is very gruesome indeed, though the footage of people being chased by hideous ghosts soon becomes rather dull.

Staggers between flaccid satire and what is supposed to be madcap farce.

Amateurishly written and directed, and so predictable that it hurts.

What makes 8 Mile transcend the formulaic nature of its plot is the way it makes these rap competitions compelling even for those unfamiliar with rap music, and its scrupulous, loving rendition of a grim, wintry Detroit circa 1995.

Powerful, provocative and often surprisingly funny, this may be the year's outstanding documentary.

Visually unimpressive and laden with awkward dialogue; its primary interest doesn't lie in its storytelling but in its sociology -- in the window it opens onto a Muslim Middle Eastern society in transition.

So patchy in its laughs, so calculated in its grossness and so lacking in genuine comic exuberance, it makes you look at "Road Trip" in an admiring new light.

Though never dull and often visually beautiful, this work of operatic sweep doesn't fulfill its own ambitions.

What dooms Never Die Alone even as amoral pulp entertainment is the screenplay by neophyte James Gibson, which combines clichéd characters and a contrived plot with stale dialogue.

A bad film with some oddly charming moments.

A beautifully filmed, scrupulously authentic but strangely evasive exercise in combat ultra-realism.

A charming, (mostly) briskly unsentimental love story, written, directed and acted with remarkable assurance.

The Rock deserves better than The Rundown, a brisk, good- hearted but predictable and uninspired - not to mention bone-crunchingly violent - action comedy.

Isn't boring, but it is sanctimonious, relentlessly predictable and willfully ignorant of the period it's set in.

An example of Hollywood schlock from the team of Joel Schumacher (director) and Jerry Bruckheimer (producer) that lacks the faintest trace of imagination or genuine feeling.

Rescues a rarely performed tragedy and makes a brilliant case that it is the Shakespeare play for our time.

Perfectly enjoyable swashbuckling, eye-catching entertainment.

The sheer loathesomeness of protagonist Stephen Glass as portrayed by Hayden Christensen makes Shattered Glass hard to watch.

A perfectly enjoyable sci-fi thriller.

Much less mawkish and predictable than you might expect.

More prettily photographed pretentious rubbish from the ridiculous Peter Greenaway.

What makes Final Fantasy a final failure is a predictable, nonsensical plot, laughably lame dialogue and a surfeit of cloying environmentalist piety.

It's an original, and a gamble, and one of those movies that works better than it should, despite considerable flaws of conception and execution.

Isn't quite up to the comic standard of Rob Schneider's 1999 hit "Deuce Bigalow, Male Gigolo."

A lobotomized attempt to make a no-budget John Waters movie, Men Cry Bullets is a painful reminder of just how bad indie cinema can be - especially when it plays with gender roles. It's desperately unfunny and dreadfully acted, written and directed.

A delightful, fresh dark comedy.

Director Alfonso Cuaron ("A Little Princess") gets vivid, convincing performances from a fine cast, and generally keeps things going at a rapid pace.

The film's tongue is so firmly in cheek that, without being a spoof like "Dragnet" or "The Brady Bunch Movie," it has more in common with the "Austin Powers" films.

A non-thrilling occult thrillersolame and unoriginal that it would be an embarrassment for any director, much less a talent like Roman Polanski.

A profound disappointment, given its cast and source material.

Woo has never been particularly good at human stuff, and to the extent that Paycheck is, or should be, a love story, it feels forced.

It's hardly a dramatic story. You learn absolutely nothing about her personal life. But there is plenty of drama in that amazing, soulful voice and the songs she sang.

Undeniably powerful, grimly fascinating.

Although the jokes aren't as consistently funny as those in "Lock, Stock," once again writer-director Ritchie demonstrates a deeply pleasurable combination of verbal flair and visual wit while conveying the genuine, intimidating hardness of the English working class and its love of language.

A big, incoherent bore, interesting only as an example of assembly-line movie-making gone awry.

Shapeless, tedious, hopelessly bad sequel.

The acting, camera work and writing are all crude and amateurish, even by the standards of student films.

A terrific work of political and social satire set in a Nebraska high school that has the intelligence of (the less coherent) "Rushmore," while painting a much darker picture of politics and human relationships.

It strains belief that nuclear weapons couldn't kill off the dragons, but three people with crossbows could.

Almost everything about Ice Age proves to be disappointingly generic.

A far more impressive and affecting piece of filmmaking and storytelling than most movies put out by Hollywood this year, and offers, as a bonus, a glimpse into a fascinating, contradictory society.

There are some charming moments and some funny scenes along the way. But you end up feeling sorry for the likes of Ron Howard, Karen Black, Fred Williamson and Peter Bogdanovich, who agreed to play themselves in cameo.

Predictable, rarely scary.

Vastly superior to the small and independent films that have come out during the last six months.

One of those thriller-comedy combos that never get the balance quite right.

There is something offensively lazy about the thinness of the Jaglom's movie-industry characters, the simplistic problems they face, and the clumps of clumsy, apparently improvised dialogue they have to deliver.

Prime date fare, but cotton-candy light and occasionally just a little too whimsical.

Unfortunately, you are often distractingly aware that you are watching re-enactments of real events.

The result is inept, tedious kitsch that even at its best feels like John Waters minus the joie de vivre.

So daring and unsparing in its depiction of the psyche and experience of adolescent girls that it's hard to imagine an audience that wouldn't find it deeply provocative despite a slow pace.

Neither convincing nor remotely dramatic.

Some wonderful films have come out of Iran in the past few years, but A Moment of Innocence, by highly regarded director Mohsen Makhmalbaf, is too smug and too self-indulgent to count as one of them.

Mostly ludicrous, but occasionally effective.