Luke Y. Thompson

This movie is, essentially, porn, and whether it's a turn-on is likely to be subjective to each viewer. Those who find traditional porn too artificial should be pleased.

That sweet streak has grown, like a cancer, and gradually killed off any of the edge their (Farrellys) humor may have once had.

When the movie works, it gleefully skewers the clichés of the buddy cop genre... When it doesn't work, it's exactly what it purports to be lampooning--a lame, boring cop buddy movie.

It's moderately compelling drama, but also fairly static stuff, image-wise.

If your expectations aren't too high, there's lots of cool shit on-screen.

Director Stephen T. Kay (The Last Time I Committed Suicide) busts off some cool shots, and Eric Kripke's story is pretty sound until the finale. Worth a look for horror fans, but nothing classic.

Doesn't hit a home run on every action sequence -- an early bit set in Colombia is too long and too disjointed -- but there are one or two bits in the movie's latter third that are guaranteed to hook action fans.

Silly, yes, but sweet and fun too.

Is it worth the goofy characters and weak story for the effects and action sequences? Absolutely.

The movie works while you watch it, with plenty of scares both sudden and psychological.

Actually boasts a decent script with character development, a sense of pace and some well-drawn supporting roles.

The new documentary Porn Star: The Legend of Ron Jeremy shows, all is not quite as it seems.

Laurel Canyon lacks the sense of risk that "High Art" had, and in doing so, emasculates its apparent protagonist in Sam.

As family reunion trauma flicks go, The Sea is by no means up to the standards of Thomas Vinterberg's "The Celebration," but it does make clear that Kormákur is a director whose evolution will be interesting to watch.

It's brutal horror, where anyone can die at any time, and gorehounds will love it. Average folks may find it too intense.

Actually quite agreeable, but only because of a group of actors who are able to salvage the paper-thin material.

The opening credits -- animated sequences that spoof airline safety cards -- are a high point, but if you're not a prude, the rest of the flick ain't bad either.

Assisted Living's overall mix doesn't quite jell, though there are worthwhile moments.

One of those genially paced, character-driven indies, and succeeds as such very well.

Once you get past the inherent silliness of the premise, what we've got here is actually a deft little chiller, stylishly directed despite the so-so cast.

Robert Rodriguez and his kids conjure up a charming 3-D fantasy.

There are no stunning revelations herein, but then, that's not why you're going to go see it, is it?

Neorealism it ain't, but if you have a sufficiently long attention span, there are moments of laugh-out-loud absurdity that are worth the price of admission.

The skeleton's a hoot, and the score, credited to the solo-monikered Valentino, is pitch-perfect. Some judicious editing would make a huge improvement, however, because even at 90 minutes, it feels like Blamire's stretching the joke a bit thin.

Give Care and McFarlane points for trying to do something innovative with the same old thing. But realize that, as spruced up as the facade may be, this movie is indeed still the same old thing.

John Leguizamo, in a rare watchable performance.

It’s basically a high-caliber book-on-tape augmented with actual (as opposed to horror-movie fake) found footage — a missing link between full-on dramatization and simply reading the book while imagining visuals.

Fans of Arthur C. Clarke may be pleased, but fans of serious biology may bust out laughing at the goofily rendered aliens who show up.