Kevin Maynard

A charming movie.

Tries to have it both ways -- as a kitschy ode to bodybuilding culture and as a tragic story of a man who was persecuted for his dreams.

Crawford's such a good-hearted guy, you can't help but want a cut from his clippers.

After an uproarious first half, Saving Grace arrives at its conclusion somewhat hastily and conveniently.

A genre-busting film that deserves to be seen.

It's another subtle, fantastic performance from McKee ("Notting Hill," "Croupier").

Strangely, what it most lacks is the genuine tension found in the first "Mission"'s signature set pieces.

Even if it sometimes skips, it's consistently wittier and more idiosyncratic that most studio movies.

Banderas may have been crazy to make such a heady directorial debut, but it's hard not to be charmed by his ambitions.

You could do a lot worse than spend two hours in the company of two such talented actresses.

Proof of Life won't hold your heart hostage for very long after it's over, but here's looking at Russell Crowe -- he's the real deal, sweetheart.

Juggles a few too many subplots, cramming in more issues than your average nightly newscast. But more often than not, this is a film to savor.

Offers up keys and cakes and plunges its characters down a deep rabbit hole.

How well you respond to this handsomely mounted, cold-blooded tragedy will depend on your feelings toward Gillian Anderson's highly theatrical lead performance.

A satisfying, sentimental trip.

All this artful violence won't change your life, but Non-Stop is a satisfying quickie.

Praise will get under your skin.

Nico and Dani merely retells a not uncommon tale without significantly enriching it. It's just too familiar to play as poignantly as it would like to.

A disarming helping of Capra-esque corn served up by writer-director Rob Sitch.

Despite Arteta's best efforts, I eventually stopped caring about their bond because Chuck's character is conceived as such a two-dimensional yuppie.

Proudly wears its heart on its sleeve, but it never becomes so swoony that you'll reach for your hanky.

As a snapshot of Hungarian history, Glamour's watchability trumps that of "Sunshine" — the droll absurdity of the former leaves a much deeper impression than the latter's bruising moralism.

A jauntily entertaining ride.

Elevates the horror genre with a refreshing intelligence and humor -- too bad it's not half as good at generating scares.

Plays like a Chinese "Cinema Paradiso," full of feeling without succumbing to sentimentality.

A raunchy, scattershot, but often hilarious spoof.

A witty, if overextended, take on pornography.

Has a credibly gritty texture, thanks in large part to Fishburne's generosity with his fellow actors.

A trifle of a farce fashioned into a '30s musical that gaily trips as much as it lightly skips, but nonetheless marks a welcome return to form.

Works best as romantic melodrama and is least convincing as a psychological suspenser.

Though far from a sophomore slump, Snatch, like "Smoking Barrels," is such a grab bag of other influences that it's tough to figure out what, if anything, about Ritchie's style is uniquely his own.

Almereyda never plays up the gimmickry at the expense of the performances, and as a result, his movie largely succeeds, despite an overabundance of pretentious pokes at our consumer culture and the risky casting of Ethan Hawke in the lead role.

An elegant, haunting folktale.

A bright, lively picture.

Visually, Pitch Black is sleek and stylish in a post-apocalyptic way, and a scantily clad Radha Mitchell does a nice, more femme variation of Sigourney Weaver's Ripley.

An intermittently irresistible entertainment.

Perhaps most depressingly, in pulling out all the stops for an ugly, violent climax, he (Schumacher) cheapens this vividly drawn slice of life, turning it into a tiresomely flawed, garden-variety vigilante thriller.

Works so hard at being pleasant and ingratiating that it wears out its welcome.

Features a sexy, appealing cast, especially Guillermo Diaz.

Thanks to the first-time filmmaker's attention to character, Gun Shy is worth at least a shot at a matinee.

The appealing cast makes the most of the derivative story.

It's filled with far too much talk and it never justifies its length, but if you succumb to its old-fashioned Renoir style of storytelling, The Grandfather has its pleasures.

This jailhouse jam is quite a haul.

Has its funky charms.

Gets to the funny bone, but it could've cut deeper.

What ultimately keeps Titan A.E. from taking off is an ordinary script.

Dippy, funny, and fast-paced enough to be a guilty pleasure.

This is slight stuff, but the legions of budding Scorseses and Kevin Smiths might actually learn a little something, and they will certainly enjoy a chortle or two -- even if it is at their own expense.

Despite impeccable performances, this is bloodless, ho-hum stuff.

Unsuccessfully attempts to fathom Kaufman's lunatic sensibilities, supplying scant psychological insight into what made the outrageous comic tick.

Brooks' least satisfying film in quite a while.

Along the way, we end up losing patience with our couple-to-be because they seem too smart to endure the indignities ceaselessly heaped on them.

"Run mad whenever you choose, but do not faint," Austen wrote in her early journals. Despite its brazen politics, Mansfield Park never goes giddily amok as promised.

The flat, gross-out live-action bits, directed by (surprise!) Peter and Bobby Farrelly, don't jive with the zippy, Tex Avery-style animated segments, directed by former storyboard artists Piet Kroon and Tom Sito.

What's right as rain with Diary is the casting.

An enjoyable female buddy caper -- more "Outrageous Fortune" than "Thelma and Louise."

Too much of a locker-room melodrama to make for great tragedy.

The film has an unabashed romantic tone that's matched by Wenders' usual flair for visual drama.

It's the kind of flourish that makes you smile -- that makes you believe in the power of movies.

Simply a pleasant diversion rather the paean to crazy-in-love classics it would so like to be.

Like "Pollock," Nora is a convincing portrait of the intersection between creative genius and crazy, all-consuming love.

Come Undone is the quintessential gay date at the art house.

Just try not to smile while watching Jump Tomorrow.

Makes for compulsive viewing.

The real reason to see it is Brian Cox, best known for being filmdom's other Hannibal Lecter (he played the role in Michael Mann's "Manhunter").

Strictly where the boys are: posing, posturing, and talking engine envy.

Ultimately too slight and opaque to inspire much ardor.

The overlapping dialogue and the comedy of famous people playing self-variations is pure Altman (Leigh, not surprisingly, has worked in three Altman films).

The rapper-ever-increasingly-turned actor -- is having the time of his life, big pimp styling in a flashy wardrobe as he guts and struts.

It's a coffee-table movie, but what saves it are a couple of performances.Rowlands puts a spin on every line reading, Harris quietly mines regret, and Shields, assured and sexy, has never been this good.

Makes for compulsive viewing even though its noirish plot doesn't make a lick of sense.

Too much of a study in formalism to register deeply on an emotional level.

The more we realize that we're stuck in the company of a totally relentless loser, the drearier the entire experience becomes.

Families already know exactly what they're in for, and they're likely to leave the multiplex high on the hum of a charming cast, sunny San Francisco locations, and a suitably happy ending.

For the most part, it's when the women do the singing -- that Songcatcher really comes alive.

Too often, the movie is more forced and frantic than actually funny.

Its emotional sweep is ultimately undercut by murky characterizations and generic plotting.

If you're looking for refuge from summer movie bombast, it's frequently intoxicating.

This fictionalized, frequently stomach-churning biography of Australian criminal Mark Chopper Read features the most bloody ear-severing scene since "Reservoir Dogs."

A modestly entertaining ride.

This bed-swapping crime story is ultimately too protracted, but Piñeyro's direction is richly atmospheric, full of noir shadows and strong period detail.

The wrap-up's pretty charming, as are the performances, but the film's too heavy for its soufflé-ready ingredients.

All of the interviewees are compelling, whether proudly showing off bruises and bullet holes from on-the-job scuffles, or voicing their opinions about how the profession has changed.

Born Romantic feels less like it was born than assembled, in a kooky Britcom factory. It's no "Four Weddings and a Funeral," but it's certainly a happier conception than last month's "Maybe Baby."

Good old-fashioned romantic entertainment, just restrained enough to skirt schmaltz.

Hits the wall and runs off the rails. They should've stuck to shtick.

Beautifully performed and filmed, but tiresomely schematic episodes like this one cause us to experience major sensory deprivation.

Billed cleverly as a comedy from the heart that goes for the throat. If only Brooks had had the guts to avoid the schmaltz.

Affectionately skewers the age of polyester pants.

An amiable but contrived bit of blarney.

Engagingly silly sub-"Moonlighting"-style banter.

Despite good performances and moments of spectacle, it seems to go on longer than the Cultural Revolution.

A bit too bloodless to howl about.

In its attempts to chart a young girl's journey from innocence to experience, The Invisible Circus ends up having all the heft of a Nancy Drew mystery decked out in a tie-dyed T-shirt and peasant skirt.

It's a wonderful reminder of the importance of music in the movies.

Fans starving for some song and dance celluloid may be satiated, but this movie version really shows the material's age.

Covers some bases, but it feels like the Cliffs Notes version of a grander epic.

Considerably less fun than a marathon of Star Search episodes.