Lisa Alspector

A businessman is visited by an otherworldly presence who has the nerve to fall in love with his daughter in this savory, extralong feature, whose obvious plotlines unfold with an almost painful slowness that somehow makes them deeper.

Denzel Washington is admirable in the role of a dauntless detective investigating murders and metaphysics, but his sincerity can’t carry the outlandish plot—you just wonder what a guy like him is doing in a movie like this.

Insights about romance are enhanced by the novel production design, which includes puppetry, but the story's reflexivity is smug and cloying.

The payoff matters at least as much as the setup, and this story's secret is way too easy to guess.

The line between romance and sex is blurred in this enthralling feature by Guy Maddin, whose overwhelming stylization unexpectedly produces an emotional and psychological authenticity.

This 'heartwarming' thriller refuses to distinguish realism from stylization, and much of the plot is a twisted mess of repetition and unpersuasive motivation.

The pranks are as bland as Macdonald’s demeanor, which is supposed to subvert expectations about the role of the straight man in a comedy duo; the subjects of running gags range from anal rape to anal rape.

This action comedy transforms LAPD detective Chris Tucker from an intolerably annoying egotist into a practically lovable intolerably annoying egotist.

Schmaltzy comedy.

An ounce of self-awareness about its almost gleeful use of cliches would have improved this dance soap opera.

It's not supposed to be a revelation--just a pleasant rendition of a teen-comedy trope

Geek-triumphs-after-all comedies can be charming, but in this one the triumphing begins so early it's hard to feel for the geek.

This ambiguously pitched comedy--its idea of sexy humor is a cheerleader farting--shoots for camp without bothering with satire.

This earnest yet cynical drama makes the gang-infiltration genre seem exhausted.

Yet another unironic war movie.

Though there's a crime to be solved, a romance to go awry, and lots of trooper-police politics to elaborate on, the strangely drawn out pacing somehow feels fresh rather than oppressive.

Inspired, self-referential animated musical.

Nicely toned.

If misery were inherently interesting, this adaptation starring Emily Watson and Robert Carlyle as a couple plagued by alcoholism and child mortality might be too.

The rest of these animated sequences...depend on gimmickry, cuteness, or facile ideology, and don't come close to demonstrating the complex relationship between sound and image found in "The Sorcerer's Apprentice."

The script by Brannon Braga and Ronald Moore provides all the background necessary for viewers unfamiliar with the characters' previous movie and TV-series exploits, but not so much as to annoy fans.

Shakur’s performance get increasingly intriguing as his character becomes disenchanted with his partner’s tactics, but Belushi is in way over his head.

Nothing's wrong with this movie--the hockey footage is exciting, the characters quirky, the subplots idiosyncratic--but nothing's special about it either.

This low-key romantic comedy proves that destiny-powered love stories can be formulaic without being predictable.

The clunky plot is set in Santa Fe, and includes a foil character who might as well wear a sign on his forehead.

Ultimately the movie is alluring and respectful--its sadness may be what saves it from becoming sensationalist or trite.

The movie is truly an open text--its generous poetry inspires free association rather than predictable emotion.

Prinze and Stiles regularly talk to the camera, but that doesn't make their characters self-aware.

Lightweight slasher.

The extravagant makeup and special effects are actually unobtrusive because they're demanded by the pleasantly formulaic story, whose conflicts -- and broad, innocuous political allegory -- justify the heartwarming resolution.

Their splashy gore is more convincing than this incompetent horror-comedy's attempt to mock bourgeois high school dissoluteness without appearing judgmental.

It's an inspired pairing. Wilson is electric as he seduces Chan into a partnership in this self-consciously crafted western, whose cleverness is only part of what makes it so funny.

It’s not the convoluted yet obvious plot of this 1998 drama about the domestic lives and criminal careers of two childhood friends (DMX and Nas) that draws you in—it’s the splendid visuals. Set mainly in New York City and Omaha, where these drug dealers do business according to their different ambitions, the movie is an image opera that deftly turns visual gimmicks into potent symbols.

Its depiction of teenage behavior appears calculated to seem irreverent while satisfying expectations.

Pesci proves he can act his way through anything.

Kempner's lighthearted yet not apolitical collage conveys how Greenberg's success as an athlete in the 30s and 40s contradicted an ethnic stereotype.

The idiosyncratic instrumentation and melodies in the score by Angelo Badalamenti ("Blue Velvet") and a masterful opening scene are wasted on this pathetic thriller.

The shtick based on whether other people understand him is subtle enough for 79 minutes.

Even the most shocking elements of the story are made bland by childish overkill.

This surreal, subversive teen drama tanked at the box office but has since become a cult favorite, prompting this new release with 20 minutes of additional footage.

Even as you're wincing at what you thought was misguided earnestness, it's being subverted by filmmakers who've turned many of the genre's weaknesses into tiny triumphs.

The movie's strength is in its comedy; a tragic subplot feels merely manipulative.

The behind-the-scenes revelations are thoroughly convincing.

The story, which is even dumber than it sounds, is told in flashback.

Intending to study the degree to which social class would determine the subjects' destinies, the series actually documents something more filmable--the degree to which the subjects believed social class would determine their destinies and the degree to which they believe it has.

Visually imaginative and even persuasively spiritual.

Unfortunately the allegory tends to overpower the characterizations even as it deepens them.

A wizard at manipulating time, Kitano introduces staccato elements that interrupt the meditative pace even as they help set it.

If DiCillo had been going anywhere with this, I'd have gladly followed. But setting up petty ironies and pathetic references to Woody Allen seems to be his only goal.

This 1998 movie is essentially a compilation of things-aren't-what-they-seem games played on the viewer; all its little tricks, including Ricci's snide and smart-alecky voice-overs about movie conventions, are really old--except one. But it's not worth the wait.

Sex and JFK's assassination are intertwined in this puerile, pseudodark story about a wacky family--an adaptation of Wendy MacLeod's play that uses the medium of cinema mainly to exploit archival footage.

Seems like a miscalculation on multiple levels.

Exciting mainly because anything can happen and does, the movie drags a bit as it approaches a climax set atop the Statue of Liberty.

Danny Glover and Mel Gibson make a gently contrasted (and nicely self-reflexive) odd couple in this action-comedy sequel.

Big laughs are few and far between in this 1998 movie, which is more successful as motivational anecdote than as comedy.

Neither good nor terrible.

Oscar baiting is the main point of this unintentionally silly drama.

Stodgy storytelling and a hyperbolic score reduce their experiences to melodrama.

The new sexism -- the old sexism plus the idea that everything is ironic -- is getting old.

Hokey.

Failed romantic comedy.

An intriguing noir whose conceptual sophistication is partly undermined by naive execution.

Challenges us to reconcile its snapshots of earnest entrepreneurs, colleagues, and fans with its long takes of her disillusionment.

Instructive comedy, which is marvelously neutral toward a type of sexual and domestic relationship that's often exploited or overblown.

The running joke about coffee enemas will date this innocuous, crowd-pleasing adventure comedy.

Dead-on imitations of some of the characters from the television series created by Bob Mosher and Joe Connelly will seem pointlessly stylized to viewers unfamiliar with the old sitcom.

Until the diverting special effects take center stage, this story, about an alien intelligence that builds an army out of flesh and metal, pathetically exploits genre conventions without generating self-reference, camp, or thrills.

With minimalist and universal fantasies as their points of departure, the superheroic deeds evolve only incrementally beyond the realistic -- a deeply satisfying process.

The characters--their motives at once obvious and obscure--are almost painfully fascinating.

This friendly, briefly exciting story (1998), inspired by John Irving's A Prayer for Owen Meany, achieves a nice balance between caricature and nuanced characterization and even manages not to be cloying.

Steve Martin and Goldie Hawn are too good for this embarrassing remake.

Satisfying in small ways.

There's tenderness, humor, a gratuitous body double, and splashy lighting in this ho-hum action drama, which takes itself at times too seriously and at other times not seriously enough.

This blunt comedy suffers from poor pacing, colorless dialogue, and subpar performances by the two leads that reveal just how much a director contributes to our perception of what a star is.

Much of the three-hour movie takes place in the prison, but the resonant characterization, expansive plotting, and judicious use of exterior locations and flashbacks remove any sense of claustrophobia or sluggishness.

This bright noir, with gleaming cinematography by Jeffrey Jur, is as single-minded as a short story, but the premise is almost too clever.

This mildly moody SF thriller belabors standard dramatic conceits involving jealousy and sexual betrayal.

Rowan Atkinson's recalcitrant TV character is the hub of this 1997 feature that will disappoint fans and nonfans alike.

Kelly is a supple and courageous storyteller, boldly free-associating as he mixes parody and satire with earnest psychodrama and coming up with plot points no one could anticipate.

Boring, irksome family movie.

Doesn't quite support the weight of its allegory.

It's hard to tell whether these characters are meant to seem as staunchly symbolic as they do when they deliver some of the back-story-heavy dialogue.

Writer-director Wong Kar-wai makes these five self-consciously idiosyncratic types--often seen through distorting lenses in cinematographer Christopher Doyle's somber, garish Hong Kong--fully and instantly believable.

By the time the fighting between clones and their originals turned to fraternal bonding, I was quite moved, even blissed out.

For all the high-tech allusions and middle-tech illusions, the movie--the 23rd in an immortal series--draws its power from its grittiness and unresolved allegory.

Neither the love nor the loss in this tear-jerking romance contains much drama.

At once a light comedy and a reasonably serious meditation on the perils of fame.

Divided into sections bracketed by the arrival of each new DJ and is enlivened by the edgy yet trendy environment.

Never seems to find its tone.

Mild gross-out comedy integrates a non sequitur -- a running joke made by a sidekick -- into the plot, providing some payoff.

The characters seem both reduced and idealized, and the plot has turns a dispassionate dramatist would avoid.

It's all very impressive without being particularly enthralling.

[Farrellys'] great achievement is forcing those of us addicted to eye candy to see we have a problem.

All this is accompanied by a too-emphatic pop sound track that turns almost every scene into a bad music video.

Slow, arty thriller.

Beautiful story of doomed love.

Possibly the most daring and honest drama about sexuality I've ever seen.

After a slow setup, this charming fable wisely spends most of its time on the golf course.