Lisa Nesselson

A well-oiled script is nicely served by a multigenerational cast, a bittersweet and consistently entertaining mainstream comedy that tackles the big themes of Life and Art with unpretentious brio.

While the picture may be too subtle and oblique in places for more general audiences, it remains enjoyable as a sardonic glimpse of unspoken codes at the intersection of politics and business.

Engaging to watch and edifying about just how close Paris came to having rubble at its heart instead of the iconic gothic structure Victor Hugo’s hunchback called home, this thoughtful and meticulous re-creation of 24 incredibly dicey hours is mostly thrilling, despite the occasional groan-worthy line of dialogue or borderline dopey secondary character.

Consistently engaging, non-judgmental and cumulatively powerful two-hander marks a noteworthy feature debut for Israeli helmer Keren Yedaya.

A Cathererine Deneuve-Gerard Depardieu vehicle that leaves ample room for interesting supporting characters, this moody, more-bitter-than-sweet ode to anxiety is intense adult fare reinforced by effective no frills lensing.

Widescreen lensing favors tight close-ups, and multiple shoot-'em-ups are edited with panache.

Companion piece to Teboul's "Yves Saint Laurent -- Time Regained" nicely complements that excellent film but is less riveting as a free-standing experience.

A not terribly creative movie about the creative process.

The daunting logistics and emotional juggling act of child custody and visitation rights post-divorce are examined via spot-on acting and deft helming in docu-styled Children of Love.

Thoughtful cross-generational portrait is full of familiar building blocks rendered fresh by first time feature helmer Eleonore Faucher.

In what is arguably her best performance since "Van Gogh," Zylberstein brings Mathilde to life with grace and fervor.

Hockney designed 11 operas, so buffs will be in seventh heaven here; but docu's potential audience extends to anyone interested in the creative process and life's ironies -- music lover Hockney has gone deaf from a genetic condition that surfaces in middle age.

Modest but spot-on co-helming debut by actress Yolande Moreau (the concierge in "Amelie") and Gilles Porte is beguiling in the slightly surreal vein of the best of contempo Belgian cinema but without the typical nasty streak.

A spy spoof that -- rarity of rarities -- represents a remake actually worth making. Current comic fave Jean Dujardin plays title character OSS 117 as a kind of James Bond crossed with Maxwell Smart.

Excellent perfs and writer-director Francois Ozon's sure, unfussy way with the camera add up to a viewing experience whose richness depends in large part on how much the viewer reads into the human templates on display.

Fine thesping in the service of characters as meaty as they are immoral makes this material a treat for grown up audiences with an ear for sardonic dialogue.

he film’s unexpected narrative elements — including a few shots you’ve never seen no matter how often you go to the movies — make this a rewarding take on coupledom told with satisfying visual flair.

Ripped from the headlines, keenly researched and carefully crafted, this fictional tale has near-universal resonance although some viewers may find it forbiddingly French in that talk, talk and more talk is as plentiful as are distinctive characters and punchy imagery.

Overall, film may feel too slow and didactic for contempo urban kids conditioned by video games. However, the script is never smarmy or complacent, and shows young people engaged in collective problem-solving and decision-making that is often, quite literally, a matter of life and death.

An extravagant suspense cocktail of wacky and lascivious ingredients that goes down fine.

Uneven but affecting.

Desplechin has a gift for examining grief and pain but often leavens the dismay with humour or irony. It is impossible to predict whether catharsis is within reach and that delicate balance is what keeps the proceedings compelling.

Romania-set scare-fest deploys the full cinematic vocabulary of creepy sounds and hostile intruders.

For those who remain seated, this is a strange and forthright cinematic object with considerable rough-hewn charm. Those who recall Jesus Christ, Superstar will feel faint pangs of familiarity at the mix of sincerity and crazed audacity.

Romance, creativity, subterfuge and repartee are among the pleasures to be had in Moliere, a consistently diverting, bittersweet costumer.

An entertaining ensembler marbled with wit and heartache.

In Bed with Victoria (Victoria) has its moments but too often falls short of the “oomph” that renders a comedy special.

Slick transitions and punchy pace leave just enough time for Hopkins and Freeman to make dopey dialogue sound far smarter than it is. And as both pit bull and puppy dog, Jet Li convinces.

Repetitive and needlessly prolonged tale does build to an inspired final scene, but it's too little, too late.

The entire film is a game of cat and mouse in the emotional equivalent of slow-motion, made watchable by elegant compositions and De Laâge’s natural beauty.

A melancholy actioner that shines a new light on film noir. A sort of "The Third Man" for the 21st century, chiaroscuro curio's level of graphic invention is exceeded only by its pleasingly mournful approach.

A sly, enormously entertaining romp based on the antics of real-life Brit conman Alan Conway who rooked his way around '90s London posing as Stanley Kubrick.

All-American adaptation by Paul Haggis of Gabriele Muccino's 2001 Italian hit "L'Ultimo bacio" is chummy, consensual and always watchable in Tony Goldwyn's polished rendition of emotional messiness.

Slick kidnapping yarn starts off like a bat out of hell and never sags.

No stereotype is left unheralded and no heartstring left untugged in this freely adapted remake of Jean Dreville's mostly forgotten "La cage aux rossignols"

Undemanding movie-goers may enjoy this oddly wholesome entertainment peppered with positive messages about generosity, overcoming adversity and hoping that your karma straightens itself out in this lifetime.

The kind of tale where even viewers who didn't miss a frame will feel as if they entered in the middle, muddled but amusing account of an adorable yet profanity-prone feline who travels through time and space is fueled by irony and incongruity.

Writer-director Bogdan Mirica makes a very assured feature debut, juggling an accretion of sinister clues and slow-burn allegiances at a low-key pace kept humming thanks to attention-getting widescreen panache.

Docu's pace will be a little too meditative for many, but the rigorous, sinewy lensing will have Hypnotic power on those so inclined.

There's plenty for both the eyes and intellect to groove over in Secret Things, a taut, juicy, low-key feast of sexual and office politics filtered through helmer Jean-Claude Brisseau's customary blend of expedient formality and all-stops-out baroque behavior.

But what presumably was powerful in Jon Robin Baitz's play has been diluted in opening it up for the screen.

The style is minimalist and meandering but does eventually add up to an unsettling portrait of three generations connected by blood if not affection.

Brisseau trains his deft camera on the crescendo of female sexual pleasure and how women can heighten the intensity of already blissful sensations via transgressive flourishes. If exiting viewers could all be asked "Was it good for you?" the likely answer is "Yes."

Fantasy sequences, including animation, keep the melancholy tone from overwhelming the proceedings.

An acceptably entertaining but borderline bland vehicle for Jean Reno.

A small, affecting road movie peopled with sharp vignettes.

Huppert's mastery aside, this is a European Art Film writ large, complete with classical music, gorgeously filmed landscapes, expository voiceovers, poetic transitions and only a ghost's footprint of a story.

Even though there’s an enormous amount to look at and digest, little of this film is truly memorable or thought-provoking.

A deft and absorbing multi-pronged tale about a kind, hard-working woman whose life becomes a morass of collateral damage, A Girl Missing is satisfying slow-burn drama expertly told.

Building blocks of tale are not new, but there's an appealingly rough-hewn and convincing tone to the proceedings.

Issues of class, wealth and power are woven into the tale but this is a bittersweet love story at heart.

A lively, funny and touching exploration of the way we live now through the filter of two generations.

A demanding but rewarding emotional odyssey in a challenging visual package.

The motivations and the performances are solid in Jane Got A Gun, an attractively mounted post-Civil War revenge drama with plenty of shooting and a well-placed twist or two.

For his (Besson) fans, Angel-A is an achingly sincere but protracted effort to trade mostly action for mostly dialogue.

Adult fans of good thesping in the service of a lightweight but thoroughly entertaining story should bask in the antics.

Enjoyable, if sometimes scattered, comic exploration of the quest for integrity and depth in a world wowed by artifice and superficiality.

Spacey makes an honorable and intelligent helming debut with less-than-dazzling material.

This is not great or memorable filmmaking but the power of the story and some of the performances make up for that.

Uproarious romp, grounded in believable if gleefully implausible human behavior, is a model of comic timing.

Valiant attempt to create a modern fairytale ends up being frustratingly creepy instead of haunting and memorable.

Stereotypes abound, dialogue is conventional and pace scattered. Still, resulting stew is pleasant.

Fails to captivate or intrigue at the most basic level.

The pleasures are modest but consistent in John Carpenter's Vampires, a part-Western, part-horror flick that doesn't aim too high but nails the range it occupies.

Viewers are in good hands — if they’re not too demanding — as Zhang Yimou puts the easily distinguishable characters through their paces.

A refreshingly unpretentious cocktail of karmic serendipity and a tongue-in-cheek look at Hollywood values vs. ecumenical verities.

Deftly juggles gore and suspense, and punchline holds an intellectual frisson or two for fans of gender-role speculation, but basically this is one more horror pic on the distinguished road already trodden by "Texas Chain Saw Massacre," "Maniac" and the like.

This zig-zagging emotionally perceptive tale of an American writer abroad and the women he has bedded — or perhaps merely written about having bedded — is accomplished French filmmaking the way arthouse denizens like it.

Any buyer who's had success with Troma fare in the past will find the makings to delight the self-selecting audience that generates grosses from gross-out humor.

Although occasionally both overwritten and overly symbolic, tale carries a satisfying emotional charge.

Anyone shunning Woody Allen’s artistic output will be depriving themselves of a bittersweet comedy peppered with splendid performances if they give A Rainy Day In New York a pass.

Gamely thesped, lowbrow farce.

The entire cast does their best with borderline hackneyed material, and the proceedings are nicely shot by ace DP Guillaume Schiffman.

Ravishingly lensed, widescreen pic's purely cinematic qualities slightly outstrip its narrative ones as central protag, as a result of the apparent suicide, slowly -- very slowly -- questions whether the aspects of her own marriage she thought were cast in stone may be made of less sturdy material.

Leisurely and overly familiar pic should appeal to young teen girls, but won't be breaking any B.O. bricks with its bare hands.

So understated as to sometimes lack a pulse.

Gritty, engaging.

Compact, ultra-explicit two-character pic about what transpires when a beautiful straight woman hires a handsome gay man to "look" at her is gloriously mannered, proudly pretentious and undeniably compelling.

Can't overcome a didactic script.