Ken Fox

What will really shock Western viewers are the luxurious trappings of Handong's world: The tailored suits, Mercedes Benz and expensive Japanese sushi bars have little to do with age-old perceptions of the PRC.

Odd yet thoughtful romantic comedy.

Mortimer is riveting as the sympathetic but flawed Lizzie.

She's an adventurous, occasionally reckless filmmaker who deploys a full arsenal of cinematic flourishes, but Lemmons' lack of restraint gets in the way of her storytelling.

There are a number of excruciating moments that are almost too silly to mention.

If it were possible for an entire state to sue for defamation of character, Iowa might have a strong case against writer, director and star Matt Farnsworth.

Chances are you'll watch most of this documentary with both hands over your eyes, but as a window into a particular kind of insanity seizing kids in heartland America it's enthralling.

A tense and tightly plotted fictional thriller is based on real tactics used by the Stasi -- East Germany's secret police force -- to spy on and interrogate their own citizens.

Sitting through this charmless romantic comedy is like going to a restaurant and being seated next to a drunken couple who argue throughout dinner: It's messy, embarrassing and absolutely none of your business, but there's no escape.

The film is a dispiriting experience.

The result is somewhat confounding, but utterly spellbinding.

Every character fated to die in Othello meets his or her maker by the time the curtain falls on Blake's adaptation, which means the manicured campus of Palmetto Grove is left littered with slain coeds.

Neil Armfield's film hits hard because it sensitively shows how life on drugs can never be about anything else, and how the real horror of addiction is not what users do to themselves, but what they do to each other out of loneliness and despair.

On the list of WWII stories criminally ignored by six decades of combat movies in the past 60 years, the heroics of French colonial soldiers ranks pretty high. But Rachid Bouchareb's powerful drama -- which won the 2006 Cannes Film Festival's best-actors award for its superb ensemble cast and was nominated for a best foreign-language-film Oscar, went a long way toward rectifying the situation, both on screen and in real life.

A ludicrous foray into psychological horror.

A drum-tight, extremely grisly thriller. And odd as it may sound given the subject matter, it's also surprisingly funny.

Exquisitely crafted drama.

The film, like its subject, is a hoot, both shamelessly entertaining and bursting with personality.

Not even Drew Barrymore's million-dollar smile can save this humiliating comedy.

There's also precious little chemistry between the players. Only Mol has any charm of which to speak, and, frankly, she deserves much better.

A few funny bits float the film for a while -- it's always nice to see Peters onscreen, no matter what she's doing -- but it's really as showcase for Marcus, who also wrote the script.

It's a beautifully constructed, often disturbing look at a day in the life of several down-at-the-heels denizens of Recife.

Taylor, while perhaps a little small to become a real Vegas showboy, makes for a very charismatic hero, while Joaquin Baca-Asay's cinematography captures all the glitz and slightly tawdry glamour of the Vegas strip.

The result is something truly special.

Coming at a time when the settlements on the Gaza Strip are being dismantled, Cedar's film offers a sly critique of their origins, and refreshingly different point of view.

We never see enough of the small compromises Willie Stark makes on the way up to fully grasp the tragedy of his fall. Some will undoubtedly find Penn's hamboned, spittle-lashing performance a bit much, but it's a pretty close to Warren's original conception.

The only criticism that can possibly be leveled at Black's film is its narrow focus, but it's not hard to extrapolate.

The film is an encouraging effort from McCrudden -- he manages to avoid the staginess of the recurring two-characters-in-a-hotel-room set-up -- and features a standout performance from Williams.

Performances are really what count in a character-driven romantic comedy like this, and each is well above the indie average.

A remote, Israeli desert town is the setting for this droll, endearing comedy about an accidental cultural exchange that very quietly says some very important things about contemporary Arab-Israeli relations.

Weerasethakul mixes fact, fiction and filmmaking into a blend that's intriguingly obtuse, yet surprisingly revelatory.

The morbid theme notwithstanding, this is by no means a downbeat film, and it ends with the rather hopeful thought that for every disaster there's also a chance for survival.

Long takes do not a masterpiece make, and the suspicion that the whole thing is a lark is only bolstered by Damon and Affleck's inability to contain their giggles.

Sadly, the only aspect of this well-intentioned film that doesn't feel completely formulaic is its refreshingly unromantic picture of an inner-city neighborhood in the early '70s: Life in Nicetown is hard and very, very poor.

A tale of conscience lost and found becomes little more than a smart but tepid ghost story for idealists and '60s survivors, and not a terribly spooky one at that.

This grim black comedy from Belgium would be unbearable if it wasn't scripted with such wry humor.

Good intentions can't compensate for crude technique or lack of insight, but Israeli director Dan Wolman's deserves credit for broaching a serious subject.

Luke gives a powerful performance -- with his looks and talent, he should be a much bigger star -- but Robbins is the one you'll remember. Fixed with the faraway look of a doomed man who knows the center cannot hold, he gazes fearfully toward a future he knows is coming and can do nothing to stop.

This is a film for hardcore film fans and Francophiles. Everyone else may find little to sustain them beyond the pastiche and shots of Paris.

It's actually quite interesting, albeit in a supremely self-conscious and artsy-fartsy way.

The pacing is suspenseful and acting is actually pretty good, even if accents are no one's strong suit.

Holding nothing back, Walters is, once again, remarkable.

Truly in a class by itself.

It's neither romantic nor particularly funny.

Schroeder's film is a fascinating character study in contradictions and in the end Verges remains loathsome, oddly charismatic and willfully enigmatic.

It's even louder and dumber than the first XXX, but if watching things fall down and go boom in a very big way makes you cheer, you're in luck.

This is much more than a typically one-dimensional message-movie -- it's obviously the work of a master filmmaker .

As an explanation of where we are today, the entire film makes for crucial viewing.

As contrived and pretentious as its title.

The film is virtually wall-to-wall music with very little commentary -- it's obvious that, given the chance, these musicians would much rather play than talk.

Of all the feature films and documentaries to emerge since 9/11, few have been as bold, perceptive or as downright chilling as this thriller.

It's a far more interesting film; unfortunately, it's locked inside a maudlin coming-of-age story that barely registers.

It's nothing less than an examination of the very meaning of family.

The final moment of Minac's film is a powerful tribute to Winton's heroism and the magnitude of his achievement, easily eclipsing the 90 minutes that precede it.

Overall the movie is too stupid to offend any but the most sensitive viewer.

Silly but endearing comedy.

What the film lacks in artistry it makes up for in commitment.

The film is filled with humor, compassion and cajones, and never once glosses over the fact that these guys are prickly personalities who can sometimes act like jerks. There are also a few tears, but remarkably, not a single one is shed in pity.

A terrific showcase for a troupe of fine actors who rarely find work outside the Australian film industry.

A grim and deliciously twisted Gothic chiller from the dark side of sunny Down Under.

Solid and engrossing melodrama.

A smart but disappointingly conventional portrait of an artist who had little use for convention.

Stylish and surprisingly effective thriller.

The real irony is that for all its integrity, the film isn't nearly as thought-provoking as Steven Spielberg's recent "A.I. Artificial Intelligence" or "Minority Report", and nowhere as entertaining.

One of the best movies Hollywood has ever made about itself, a extraordinary meta-narrative that continually questions its own ability to capture human experience, disappointment and uneventful loneliness. It's hilariously funny.

Refreshingly serious look at young women whose relative freedom doesn't mean they're particularly free.

What should have been an important addition to popular films about women's rights winds up being the most insulting courtroom drama since "Ally McBeal" was put out of its misery.

Mohammad Rasoulof's heartfelt and darkly comic second feature proves beyond any doubt that Iranian film is still alive and well, despite waning Western interest in one of the world's richest contemporary cinemas.

At well over two hours it's merely exhausting, and the constant evocation of the fearsome power of "The Lodge," which proves Pat's salvation (Nwamu is himself a Freemason), is as silly-spooky as the White and Black Lodge hokum of "Twin Peaks."

While funny enough, it's essentially a one-joke movie.

Bold and unforgettable meditation on a truly bizarre incident that pokes at the very heart of one of our culture's biggest taboos.

British director Shane Meadows' strongest film to date is also his most personal: A stylish fictionalization of his own wayward youth, spent among a group of working-class skinheads in Thatcher's England.

Against all odds, you'll leave this remarkable film caring quite a bit for the old coot -- surely a sign of a very good documentary.

It was really no bigger than a beach ball, weighed about as much as a full-grown man and it beeped. And aside from transmitting a radio signal and accidentally opening a few automatic garage doors, it didn't really do anything except orbit the globe once every 96 minutes.

An ugly, unfunny frat comedy.

At the heart of this picturesque fable is a truism so shopworn it can barely stand repeating: It's better to give than to receive.

What's most offensive isn't the waste of a good cast, but the film's denial of sincere grief and mourning in favor of bogus spiritualism. Only devotees of Ouija boards and TV's "Crossing Over" will find anything of merit here.

(Bassett's) finally been given another part worthy of her talents, and she makes the most of it.

The film is a shattering experience fueled by Jentsch's electrifying performance.

"Queer as Folk's" Peter Paige makes a strong debut as a writer/director with this original black comedy.

Pitch-black and bound to offend anyone who's not on its wavelength, Nick Guthe's entertainingly slick debut is a mordantly funny slice of lust, crime and sleaze life set in the world of L.A.'s industry elite: Call it 9021-noir.

Whether you conclude that this project is a brilliant hoax that exposes how the rapid transition from communism to a free market economy has created an ad addicted, consumer-mad culture in the Czech Republic, or simply a cruel joke, one thing is undeniable. It's a fascinating account.

Swinton lends Margaret an air of grace under pressure, and fleshing out feelings of domestic dissatisfaction -- a key element that otherwise remains buried in the subtext.

What is grating is the filmmakers' perennial tendency to underestimate their audiences; their lack of faith leads them to drive home each nuance with a hammer.

Not much happens on the surface of Hou Hsiao Hsien's latest film...Nevertheless, it can break your heart.

Austrian auteur Barbara Albert uses complex mathematics, chaos theory and the music of Dutch pop sensation A-Ha to explore the connections that link a group of disparate characters.

The very definition of sentimental overload. It's also impossible to resist.

There's little difference between this joyful holiday film and the standard-issue yuletide-miracle movie, except that the holiday isn't Christmas.

This warm, ultimately poignant film hoes its own row, and proves once again the diversity and vitality of contemporary Argentine film.

The film lacks the turbulent social context of the 1950s and '60s that lent resonance to the personal uncertainties of Ibgy's forebears -- Holden Caufield, Ben Braddock, et al. But Culkin has a way with quip-heavy dialogue that transforms what might otherwise been irritatingly, solipsistic posing into a great performance.

This hilariously low-key film is punctuated by inspired wish-fulfillment fantasy sequences filled with pro-Palestinian imagery that would be taboo in a western film.

With its flashy, music-video style edits, rock-scored montages and septuagenarian cast, it’s hard to say who, exactly, is the right audience for this unusual comedic drama.

Like the film's giddily intoxicating cannabis hybrid, Rogen and Goldberg's script cross-pollinates Cheech-and-Chong style stoner comedy with Tarantino-esque ultra-violence.

There's enough information packed into Paul Devlin's documentary about the woes besieging the former Soviet republic of Georgia for two movies.

This film represents a perfect match of filmmaker and material. Akerman's fondness for long, static takes and circular, recurring dialogue perfectly suits the maddening repetitions that set the tone of Proust's darkest work.

The all-too-vivid simulation of terrorist attacks, including a prolonged scene of a building collapse in which people are seen plummeting to their deaths and crushed under falling concrete, may strike a very different chord with post-9/11 American audiences.

This quirky, uncommonly intelligent adaptation is a strange delight.

It's a shocking story, made all the more so by the film's final revelation, an outrageous allegation no one even bothers to deny.