Kevin Maynard

A hilarious and utterly faboo documentary...you'll be begging for more.

A meticulously mounted film that retains the author's ambiguous characterizations yet is still emotionally accessible.

Worth navigating for its refusal to play to the crowd. There's certainly nothing safe or sweet about Weaver's performance.

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.

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

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

A matted hairball of a kiddie flick that's alternately maudlin and slapstickishly violent.

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.

Game boys and girls will be disappointed by this fast-paced but shockingly dull adaptation.

The total lack of sexual chemistry between them doesn't help. Frankly, I'd rather see Scott Thomas play a nun than sit through another one of these turgid romancers.

Too poignant and funny to be dismissed.

Offers nothing but tired "Red Shoe" Diaries-style sexploitation for the art-house crowd.

A bit too bloodless to howl about.

Russell has combined pathos, terror, and black comedy with a dollop of Hollywood feel-good patriotism to make one of the best studio efforts this year.

The narrative disjointedness is not at all relieved by confusing editing, an uncertain tone, and a dragging pace that makes the film a progressively dreary experience.

Cho is raw, uncensored, and side-splittingly hilarious.

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.

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

Contains more than a handful of big laughs and a highly charismatic cast that knows how to put them over.

Only really comes to exuberant life during the musical numbers.

Relevant message aside, there's no good reason to sit through photographer Neal Slavin's directorial debut.

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

Actually, it's a childhood "A Clockwork Orange," a reverent realization of the late Stanley Kubrick's final obsession.

Wholly predictable and implausible plotting, thin characterizations, and stilted dialogue.

That rarest of independent films -- it's risky and exciting.

Ultimately, Grateful Dawg will only be of real interest to musicology students and diehard Deadheads.

Stomps the summer movie competition with heart and humor.

A seven-course melodrama.