Ken Fox

Rarely do movies portray the elderly with such admiration and respect.

The film is filled with Miike's brand of imaginatively staged violence and hints of fetish sexuality, but his sadism, which reaches its apotheosis in 2001's sickening "Ichii The Killer", is tempered by a sincere romanticism and a number of lovely touches.

A wild, endlessly inventive romp set in a post-war world so full of machine-guns and hand-grenades that people barely flinch when one or the other goes off.

The film is really a timely critique of the ongoing insanity that has engulfed Israeli life.

For all its harsh realism, the film flows like a dream, albeit a highly unpleasant one.

There are a few inspired set-pieces -- Ruber's creation of a mechanical army is really quite something -- and the score by David Foster and Carol Bayer Sager is generally fine. But overall, this is a bloodless entry into an already highly formulaic genre.

Uncomfortable as the film is, it's a beautiful, sensuous experience.

Filled with forced yuletide cheer and mixed messages about the true meaning of Christmas, this loud and obnoxious holiday comedy boasts a fine cast and little else.

Sassone's hit-and-miss ethnic comedy is actually a retelling of Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet, with the Italian neighborhood of South Yonkers, N.Y., standing in for Verona.

One of the many terrible ironies laid out in vivid detail by Justman and her subjects is that many of those accused were among the Party's most ardent members: Jews who wholeheartedly embraced Communism.

Attempts at balance through interviews with unidentified U.S. soldiers is halfhearted at best. In the end, Berends sacrifices coherence for the sake of a story he's determined to tell, rather than focusing on the one that's practically telling itself.

While the homeless, the mentally ill and the generally downtrodden are scattered about like so much shabby furniture, Rifkin has no qualms about wallowing in their filth, but he misses the tragedy of their lives -- just as he misses everything else.

Garish, animated junk.

And while this director's cut doesn't really differ all that much from the original 1979 release, it contains a few minutes of never-before seen footage, including one serious bitch slap and an entire scene in which Ripley stumbles upon a few not-quite-dead crew members whose terrible fates foreshadow James Cameron's 1986 sequel.

Barratier has assembled an unforgettable gallery of faces both young and old, and prolific character actor Berleand plays the perfect villain.

Actor-turned-director Campbell Scott handles this enigmatic science fiction mystery with such gloomy restraint that it barely moves. That said, it never panders to audience expectations and is exceptionally well acted. Bill Tyler.

Dark, dank and violent, filled with terrifying scenes in which exploited children are beaten, shot or starving to death. In other words, it's just as Dickens wrote.

The set-up revolves around a draggy love triangle, while the climax -- slo-mo leap through the air and all -- could have come out of any direct-to-video action flick.

It's tremendous fun, thanks largely to a smarter-than-average script and some fierce casting.

The famous soliloquies are heard in voice-over -- a risky idea that works -- and Wright has found clever ways of naturalizing the play's more supernatural elements.

Wood is excellent, but this is a career highlight for Douglas. His depiction of the manic Charlie stays surprisingly grounded and prevents the story from being a naive celebration of mental illness as a kind of freedom that it so easily could have become.

Does find a spot closer to the middle than most.

Heartwarming is not always a bad thing.

Rather than trading le Carré's downbeat but agonizingly true-to-life ending for something more palatable, Meirelles has crafted a rare sort of thriller that refuses to resolve real-life issues for the sake of feel-good entertainment.

Heartfelt and often very funny.

Forgetting that French New Wave directors often turned to Hollywood for inspiration, cinema snobs will doubtless be outraged that Hollywood would dare remake such a beloved Rohmer masterpiece, when in fact, tone aside, "Chloe In The Afternoon" isn't all that different from "The Seven Year Itch."

The underlying political motivation may be unclear, but the violence and desperation of lives lived in something close to hell on earth is terrifyingly clear.

Despite its flaws, the film has the same dreamy, romantic melancholy that distinguishes Wong's best films.