Luke Y. Thompson

Of all the various low-budget documentaries chronicling the Star Wars phenomenon, Tariq Jalil's is certainly the most recent. There's not a whole lot else to say about it.

If you were ever in marching band, you'll love this; if not, stay far away.

Writer-director Daniel Taplitz seems to be trying to invoke classic screwball with this convoluted setup, but it plays like mediocre sitcom.

Almost two and a half hours long, and mostly consists of calm conversations. But don't be deterred, or you'll miss out on a study of character, class and changing times that puts Robert Altman's stodgy "Gosford Park" to shame.

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.

Film falls into the same trap as the book: a moderately interesting setup ultimately undone by an ending that makes the audience feel like fools for investing any sympathy with the characters.

All in all, a respectable and predictable adaptation.

The animation looks good, especially when CG-enhanced, but the Rugrats babies' constant snot jokes, bug-eating and "cute" mispronunciations grate after a while.

The musical numbers are energetic and fun.

Props to translator Nigel Palmer for keeping the subtitles witty instead of blindly literal.

Lansdown has a pretty good score by Atli Orvarsson... Nope, nothing else nice to say.

It's not a terrible premise -- It is, however, terribly executed.

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

May not have the best script in the world, but it brings Jet Li to the big screen in a way that all action junkies, not just the video-store geeks, will appreciate.

Don't go to this movie looking to be actually scared, but as a gothic romp it's surprisingly effective.

You probably saw this film the last time around, when it was called "Sleeping With the Enemy." This one merely adds a better car chase and more ass-kicking.

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.

It isn't until Joe starts getting confident and cocky that Allen starts to feel a little more natural in the role, and by then the movie's plot has all but evaporated into a series of wispy gags that barely register.

Horror fans and those who just plain enjoy a well-told story should thank the cinematic gods. Session 9 is not only the scariest movie of the year, but also perhaps the most easy to believe since the first "Blair Witch."

The deep thematic concerns are never fully developed, but the characters are, and the story compels. Also, the movie's pretty scary.

What saves the film from utter forgettability are the strong supporting performances, especially from Peter Caffrey as the town atheist, and Tony Doyle.

Sentimental, overbearing, flag-waving--and a crowd-pleaser.

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

Its most redeeming quality is that it's so inoffensive parents can feel OK about taking kids.

There's a lot of imagination at work here; too bad just a little bit of it couldn't have been channeled into the creation of a better narrative.

OK, so you can't afford women who'll bare flesh for what you're paying. Then don't make an exploitation film!

If you really want to live life to the fullest, step one is to avoid wasting an hour and a half of your life in a theater showing Last Holiday.

It's a bad sign when you're rooting for the film to hurry up and get to its subjects' deaths just so the documentary will be over, but it's indicative of how uncompelling the movie is unless it happens to cover your particular area of interest.

Some of this stuff should give you some good laughs. Unfortunately, the film's not a comedy, and once the conservative-bashing wears off, the alleged thriller elements kick in. Too bad that for you, the viewer, there's still another hour to go.

Is The Break-Up worth your time? Let's put it this way: Whenever Vaughn is onscreen, it is. When he's not, it ain't. The movie's a comedy, but it's also about a breakup, so it gets a bit maudlin toward the end.

No B-movie fan, save perhaps the extremely obsessive for whom this is old hat, should miss it.

The acting is superb across the board, especially from Adebimpe.

Delivers a quick buzz, lots of stuff to look at, and a totally nonnutritious joy that can only be attained with the aid of artificial flavorings and Yellow #5. In a nutshell, it's the perfect summer movie.

All of the plot developments seem half-hearted -- which is a shame, because the star has the charm to succeed if given a better movie.

This sort of thing is the problem with making stuff up as you go along.

And remember, this is just part one of a trilogy. While all may not be clear yet, there's certainly enough here to make you curious about the other two parts.

This film is just too damn weird to pass up, and for the blacklight crowd, way cheaper (and better) than Pink Floyd tickets.

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.

Unlike in, say, "Fight Club," director Hans Weingartner does not hedge his bets on the notion of whether simple-minded anarchy is any better than societal conformity -- his heart is with the Edukators, period.

Hang out at a frat house or sports bar, and you can hear this kind of talk for free.

Shoddy and ridiculous.

Rebound isn't funny.

History buffs will find this film lacking, and it isn't really deep enough to educate the rest of us as thoroughly as it should.

Like the recent "Baise-moi," Bully is a whole lot of shock and titillation trying to pretend it's saying something. Unlike the French import, however, there's no awareness of its own absurdity, nor anything for the audience to care about in the slightest.

If it weren't for Murray, there'd be nothing at all to the film, which forgets all conventional notions of story or characterization.

Some of the finest ensemble acting this year.

May not seem to be your typical Wes Craven movie. It's not really horror, there are no marketable monsters, and unlike "Cursed," "Scream 3" and other recent Craven offerings, it's actually an enjoyable time at the movies.

50 Cent sounds articulate in his raps, but as a lead actor, he talks like his mouth is filled with food.

The film's biggest strength is the same characteristic that may cause people to underrate it: that the group of friends we watch onscreen feel not like England's greatest actors showing off, but rather a group of friends who have indeed known each other for years through life's little triumphs and large tragedies.

The central theme of the movie is the pure joy the cartoon takes in childishness.

Some fairly standard shenanigans ensue, and when the clichéd high school culture clash stuff stops, there's clichéd cop movie stuff going on.

Kusama offers moments of inspiration, but it frustrates like hell that she couldn't nail it completely.

Director Marcus Raboy hasn't made a bad movie, exactly -- just one that seems to have forgotten its own jokes, much as those who watch it will forget everything about it a week later, stoned or not.

Ferrell owns the screen.

Silly, yes, but sweet and fun too.

God bless Johnny Depp. For the second time this year, the man has almost single-handedly redeemed an action movie that would otherwise be indistinguishable from the pack.

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

Neil LaBute is back to his old self, and the cinematic world is a better place for it.

There might have been a decent comedy here if someone had remembered to insert some actual humor.

The film feels like a violation of the festival's philosophy of "participants only, no spectators": Who, after all, is going to sit in a theater to see this but a spectator? It is fun stuff to look at, though.

The whole thing is best enjoyed while really drunk.

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

Only Kerry Condon, as Freeman's geeky adopted daughter, plays anything approaching a realistic character.

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

Where are our Tracy/Hepburn screwball combos? Part of the appeal of "Wedding Crashers" was that Isla Fisher truly did have the comedic chops to match Vince Vaughn, and Just Friends suggests that Reynolds and Faris have potential greatness together too. Just not so much in this film.

Herzog is primarily interested in Treadwell the filmmaker, but you'll likely be fascinated with him as a human being.

Sure, it's amusing, but it isn't much more.

Utilizing lots of complicated, well-choreographed steadicam shots, La Salle directs with confidence -- this may yet be his true calling.

It's unfortunate that, nudity and all, this is one of Toback's absolute worst efforts.

No less amusing than an average sitcom, but that's certainly not reason enough to buy a ticket.

The film generally looks like a TV special, with low production values and lots of closeups.

Stallone's script is well structured, though the jaw-droppingly banal dialogue gives us little reason to care.

In the grand scheme of things, Goblet of Fire is perhaps closest to the original "Sorcerer's Stone."

Kennedy is funny, but too cartoonish to ever identify with -- Diggs and Anderson are the real stars of the show, and need more screen time.

The film was cut down from an R rating to get a PG-13, but even if it had full-on Eliza Dushku nudity -- and it doesn't have anything close -- Soul Survivors would still suck.

The Broken Lizard types bring the best out of Paxton, only to abandon him in the second half and focus on themselves. A bit more humility might have served them in better stead.

The best way to watch it is with a loaded bong, the volume turned down and the Orb cranked up on your stereo.

Horror fans will have a blast, though it's unlikely anyone else will be won over.

For all its flaws, though, Solaris is a good try, and a definite improvement over the dull remakes Soderbergh has been sleepwalking through lately.

High Tension often feels like a ’70s exploitation movie in the best sense; unfortunately, the ending is so bad that it mars everything that comes before.

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.

Ought to gain some viewers here with its dark sense of humor and stylish cinematography by Jan Malir. Director Jan Hrebejk names Mike Leigh as an influence, but frankly he's way cooler.

Feels like two films that aren't closely related enough, either tonally or narratively, to warrant their intertwining.

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.

The film is a somewhat disjointed affair that, like the man himself (Green), is occasionally brilliant, frequently repetitive and sometimes merely annoying.

The world of football riots seems rife with potential for the big screen, but Green Street Hooligans only periodically rises to it.

Against all odds, the American Pie movies have actually gotten a little better each time out, though that's certainly not to say that they're, uhhh, "masterpieces."

Nothing worse than a silly movie that takes itself seriously, that bores us to death while we wait for the finale that comes too late.

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

If you're a fan of C.S. Lewis' Narnia books, all you need to know is this: Disney has done right by The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. It's impossible to imagine it done much better, in fact.

Not just another disposable romantic comedy, but an ambitious, overreaching mess.

Jeffrey Greeley's loving photography of the wintry landscapes is beautiful, but lead actor Jacob Lee Hedman is nowhere near as charismatic as he needs to be for a film with this few characters.

A good-hearted movie aimed at Orthodox Jews who don't normally go to the movies.

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

The characters may be based on real people, with much of the dialogue culled directly from court transcripts, but Find Me Guilty plays the whole thing as comedy, and as everyone knows, putting a self-serious egomaniacal movie star in a bad hairpiece is comedy gold.