Marc Mohan

Dedication would've been better if it had stuck to its disreputable guns instead of going all mushy and predictable, and slathering an emo soundtrack over everything.

As in many of Smith's earlier movies, the moments of ostensibly genuine emotion aren't nearly as convincing as the moments of juvenile obscenity and quasi-homophobia.

Perhaps the most beautiful film to hit Portland movie screens this year.

Neither the social commentary nor the story ever overpower the other, a feat that allows this remake to stand proudly alongside the original, its equal in every way.

If Schaefer's intent was to provide some sort of insight into Chapman's character, some hint of explanation for this senseless tragedy, he fails, probably because there's none to be found beyond one lonely guy's addled brain chemistry.

A joy to watch.

Director Hirokazu Kore-Eda ("Maborosi") brings gentle irony to the samurai genre with Hana.... It's a winner. [4 May 2007, p.38]

Harris gamely attacks his tortured, cliche-ridden character, but Deschanel, so likably offbeat in "All the Real Girls" and "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy," comes off as just plain annoying and self-centered.

Free Zone is similar to the car-based films of Iranian filmmaker Abbas Kiarostami but with a more improvised, less-finished feel.

While the subject matter is certainly American enough, it seems possible the original had a bit more depth.

A keenly observed, typically high-quality family drama of the sort only the French seem capable of making anymore.

Worthless, tasteless and unfunny.

Provides adventure and humor in sufficient spoonfuls to make its pro-environment medicine go down smoothly for the target audience of grade-schoolers.

A Lot Like Love is, well, a lot like many other movies. It's also a lot like having your eyeballs seared by a propane flame -- in a bad way.

Fiction can sometimes be used to access a deeper truth than mere fact, but in this case all it does is obscure and confuse a fascinating life story.

It's not a political film, but it's also not a bland recitation of homilies about the honor of serving one's country. It's a jokey road movie, in which three soldiers heading home from Iraq are forced into a cross-country van ride together.

Talky, didactic and essentially free of any real narrative, it views Iraq through the lens of Vietnam, which is fair enough, but ends up making the whole polemic seem like a condescending effort from aging baby boomers to get the younger generation to step up to the plate.

You never really end up rooting for their happiness, as a couple or individually, so emotionally there's not much at stake.

While this sort of thing can easily devolve into bourgeois comfort food, Thompson, a veteran of the genre, knows how to serve it up just about right.

Comes up with some decent jokes, including a talking car-based GPS system which doubles as a therapist, and a suggestive Yonica number titled "I Want to Blow You Up," but fails to surround them with a compelling story or characters who rise above the level of cliche.

When characters are required to grow old over the course of a decades-spanning story, as in Love in the Time of Cholera, it's still a hit-or-miss proposition whether the combination of makeup and performance skills will convince us that a character is 40 years older than the actor.

Exploring the possibilities of low-budget digital filmmaking is a worthy endeavor, but November is a little too in love with the grittiness of it all.

But if the notion that Austen was more reactive than creative in her writing is troubling, so is the idea that she needed Lefroy to make her into a great writer. "Experience is vital," he tells her. We should be glad this guy never got his paws on Emily Dickinson.

This was a story that made front pages in its day but has been largely lost to history, and now is brought bracingly and compellingly back to life.

While it's hard to dismiss his intention or effort, Harrelson's one-note performance sinks the film.

Being a fairly faithful adaptation, this version also has a lot of that other stuff about the hypocrisy of civilized life, the truthfulness of natural splendor and so forth.

The characters are flat, too: Richard Gere plays your typical desperate, embittered war reporter; Terrence Howard is your typical cameraman/sidekick/narrator; and Jesse Eisenberg rounds out the standard-issue trio as your typical nervous rookie, in over his head.

The film oddly mirrors "The Passion of the Christ," as a show trial leads inexorably toward an almost sadistically filmed public execution (it doesn't hurt that Jim Caviezel plays the reporter). Like that movie, it gets its point across with all the subtlety, sorry to say, of a rock upside the head.

It's no "Fantasia" or "Sleeping Beauty," but it's no "The Rescuers Down Under," either.

Reese Witherspoon, whose production company made Penelope, contributes an inflated cameo that feels forced.

In addition to the slick but generic computer animation, it's also got an A-list voice cast: Nicolas Cage as Dr. Tenma, the grieving inventor, and Donald Sutherland as a scheming politician.

The Killer Elite is possibly Bloody Sam's worst film, and the martial-arts-themed actioner is must-see material only for the director's completists, despite a cast that includes James Caan and Robert Duvall. [17 Jun 2005, p.43]

Only in the slightly overlong last act, as the family's misfortunes become truly existential, does director Kiyoshi Kurosawa take things to another level. Whether this is an extension of the film's social criticism, a comment on the absurdity of melodrama or straightforward audience manipulation, is anyone's guess.

That the film rises above that level to the merely mediocre is an accomplishment of almost heroic proportions.

Delivers the expected thrills and groans.

The result is a gripping film which, despite the annoying rugrat, demonstrates how part of leaving childhood behind is learning how and when to lie, and to do it well.

Solid acting, especially from the women, and a few good Colin Farrell jokes make this familiar tale better than it probably should be.

It's shaping up to be a long, dry summer, at least at the multiplex.

The weirdly earnest literalism of Besson's story is a weak point. His desire to make Angela satisfy both sides of the Madonna-whore complex is too blatant.

The result feels less like selling out than growing up.

What could have been a complex portrait of a flawed man dealing with the perils of success ends up far less interesting.

Though it's well-cast and convincingly captures the look and feel of its era, the film loses steam as Accio's story meanders to a predictable conclusion.

The trouble is, the kids seem to be in one earnest "After School Special"-type of movie, while the adults occupy a retro-futuristic world more like the original TV show.

The result is a sepia-toned muddle.

Should satisfy its 8- to 12-year-old target demographic.

By today's standards the sexuality is fairly discreet, the color cinematography is brilliant and the sense of absurdity marks this as one of Meyer's bust, er, best, efforts. [22 Oct 2004, p.39]

Lee Marvin does the best acting of his life as Hickey, the usual life of the party who shows up this year sober and intent on ridding his drunken pals of their "pipe dreams." [04 Apr 2003]

Paper Heart isn't the most cloying instance of earnest indie quirk to emerge in the past few months, nor is it the most charming, but the mere fact that such a continuum exists is reason enough to worry.

To quote Dennis Hopper from the film "Search and Destroy": "Just because it happened to you doesn't make it interesting."

It's the kind of story that can look pedestrian on paper, but when brought to life this skillfully, proves to be genuinely inspiring.

Once all the pieces of the story are assembled, the whole thing turns out to be not that big of a deal.

The ensuing love triangle culminates in a frankly loopy finale that tarnishes the film's earlier insights and ensures that it will be only remembered for some hot and heavy bedroom scenes.

Lee is not an action director, and the movie often feels like it was made in the 1940s rather than set then.

In trying to make Kalmen's story unique, the film inadvertently exposes him as the most typical sufferer of midlife crises you could imagine.

LaBeouf is likable and grounded, two things you need from the lead in a film like this, although his female co-stars seem to have been cast based on how well their Maxim covers would sell.

The one unforgivable crime committed in this remake is the lack of the original's most famous line of dialogue: "Klaatu barada nikto." Would it have been so tough to squeeze that in somewhere?

This unique cinematic experience is a parable of greed and revenge that could take place anywhere.

With a predictable and borderline manipulative plot, Tsotsi depends on strong performances for its impact, and its cast delivers.

Charles Grodin, in his first film in a dozen years, provides some of the best moments as Sofia's dad, while Mia Farrow is kind of creepy as her mom.

Though its characters aren't terribly complex, and its plot holds few surprises, the screenplay (in English, German, and Hebrew) amounts to a worthy treatise on the need to forgo revenge.

Israeli society is one that has ample experience processing grief, and Nina's Tragedies explores that challenge with humanity and humor.

Three potent performances readily compensate for the familiar plot.

The bickering lovers are generally likable, as are her quintessentially and hilariously Gallic parents (played by Delpy's real mom and dad).

It devolves too often into slapstick shenanigans and comedy of embarrassment.

There's much to admire here, but less to like.

For at least three-fourths of its running time, The Concert is predictable, soft-edged and unremarkable. Then the titular performance, of Tchaikovsky's Violin Concerto, begins, and the music elicits the emotional response the rest of the film has been striving for the whole time. It's enough to almost make the whole thing worthwhile.

No matter how noble, not everyone's life should be made into a movie.

Fortunately, their story is just as compelling here, and the film's subjects display impressive adaptability, as well as a desire not to forget those they've left behind.

Really, though, the most surprising thing about this system is how it disregards some of the basic tenets of conservatism.

In Morvern Callar, the subject matter may be morbid and unappealing, but the director handles it with a visual poetry and an eye for hidden beauty that marks a filmmaker of the first order.

The oddball cast, by the way, includes Sonic Youth's Kim Gordon, who is infinitely more convincing speaking Cantonese than she is in her (presumably native) English.

The real revelation is Lou Ferrigno, in his first non-Hulk-related big-screen role since 2002. OK, so he plays himself.

Mostly it's about taxes -- namely, the argument that the Federal Income Tax, enacted in 1913, is unconstitutional and has been ruled as such by the Supreme Court, and that no law exists today requiring Americans to pay it.

Powerfully explores the struggles faced by those whom DNA testing has exonerated after years behind bars.

It's a riveting character study/soap opera.

It's a fun and attractive ride.

The always thin tightrope between "laughing at" and "laughing with" is negotiated with success in the low-budget comedy The Foot Fist Way.

Takes on the air of a heist film as the preparations proceed, and even knowing the outcome, tension still remains.

Moncrieff's story remains fresh despite the familiarity of its general outline. This is mostly due to the skilled performances she elicits; even when the unfolding events have been seen many times before, watching human beings react realistically never gets old.

You'll suspect, and even hope, that what's on screen is a hoax, but it seems to be at the very least one version of the truth.

Director Jan Hrebejk and screenwriter Petr Jarchovsky ("Divided We Fall," "Up and Down") have crafted another well-observed tale, one with no heroes or villains, just people trying to make something of the situations in which they find themselves. And, with a nicely ambiguous ending, it's drama enough.

Overall, there's a patchwork quality to the movie, as if a batch of half-finished short stories were filmed before their time.

The result is a cast of characters who are little better than automatons themselves. This wouldn't be a problem if the rest of the film were as captivating as it was surely meant to be. Instead, the Quays work overtime to make both their story line and images as obscure as possible.

Generally, thanks to solid performances and very nice cinematography, it hits, if not a home run, at least a solid double (or the British equivalent).

The Belgian comedy The Iceberg might be a pale shadow of the films of the great French comedian Jacques Tati, but even that's enough to qualify it as an amusing, inventive effort.

Solid summer entertainment set in a recognizably real world.

A misfire, but a misfire from von Trier is still more interesting than a blandly successful Hollywood product.

A distancing cynicism has been slathered over the story's maudlin core, with the hope perhaps that between these two conventional extremes resides a genuine emotional truth. That may be the case, but "Wilbur" doesn't quite get to it.

Among the Dardennes' more accessible films, despite a drawn-out finale that still doesn't quite satisfy.

The performances are solid and subtle, with Depardieu growing nicely into the brooding, smarter-than-he-looks roles his father tackled for years.

Someone should send him (Kerry) a copy, if only to remind the senator of the days when he was willing and able to speak with the courage of his convictions, and when he had a lot less to lose.

Park is a visual virtuoso, with imaginative transitions and clever use of special effects wrapped around a sly, effective performance from Lee at the center of it all.

It's passable, but in telling the tale of a man known to attempt the risky drive, it's a shame the filmmakers decided to shoot for par.

Difficult to sit through, Our Daily Bread is nonetheless an important record, invaluable for those with the courage to watch it.

Once Greene achieves fame, neither he nor the screenplay quite knows what to do; the first half-hour of Talk to Me is the most fun. But a vibrant feel for its era and a genuine affection for its characters make the whole thing a solid evocation of a time and a life worth remembering.

Loses something when it depends on its computer-generated creatures to carry the story. The effects are a mile above the previous Hulk film, but there's still a certain awkwardness to some movements, and an odd lack of definition to the massive muscles that makes them seem like gelatinous sacks of meat.

Despite the accumulated facts, the lack of any commentators outside Kushner's circle of family and admirers and the refusal, in fact, to wrestle with the thornier questions of identity and criticism make this a worthwhile but imperfect film.

They also, with brilliant simplicity, point to the possibility of these actions being taken for real.

An atrocious Robin Williams vehicle that might be Hollywood's first anti-romantic comedy.

The movie, like the man, seems more interested in spreading the gospel of environmental responsibility, and in doing so it's probably the most important film of the year.

Turns out this is a thoughtful, well-acted film that manages to view this most inconceivable of travesties through the eyes of child without being childish itself.

Although the primary plot line turns out to be a letdown, there are aspects of The Machinist that redeem it. Bale's performance is one; another is the dull, metallic look of the picture.

Every generation gets the cinematic vampires it deserves...The current decade, judging from the bloodsuckers on display in Twilight, will be remembered as one of guilt, restraint and denial. It's just not that fun to be undead anymore.

In the annals of monster movies, one name stands above all the rest, way above: Godzilla.

It's a fantastic high concept to wrap the film around, and Gervais comes close to fulfilling its potential, especially when he tells a comforting deathbed lie to his dying mother and accidentally invents religion.

Portland's dreary climate is used to good effect, but it's not enough to make up for the director's needlessly convoluted approach.

County Clare holds little of interest, with a generic story line and a cast that's mostly just going through the motions.

Most memorable for its startling color scheme, all sepia-toned monochrome with occasional stabs of icy blue. [23 Mar 2001]

Rock Hudson and Lauren Bacall are the nominal stars, but the show is stolen by Robert Stack and Oscar-winning Dorothy Malone as a pair of seriously dysfunctional siblings, heirs to a Texas oil fortune. The tale of betrayal, misguided affection and sexual anxiety plays out in shiny Technicolor against an all-too-symbolic backdrop of oil derricks. [13 Jul 2001]

The performances are solid, and Juuso has a particular charisma. The actors do a commendable job of revealing unimagined layers to their initially one-note roles.

The end result is the best documentary you'll see this year, as thrilling a competition as any Super Bowl and as suspenseful a story as any Hitchcock film.

With solid performances, competent direction and artfully drab cinematography, the film would be indistinguishable from a Hollywood thriller if not for the Flemish dialogue. It's no surprise to learn that an American remake is in the works.

It's "Ocean's Eleven" for people who can't count past six.

One of the great things about international cinema is the way it can remind us of our common humanity. For instance, it's good to know that beautiful, rich people are selfish and miserable the world over. That's one of the few positives a viewer can take away from a film such as La Mujer de Mi Hermano.

When you have to ask yourself whether this parable is intended as comedic satire or stone-cold-serious moralizing, that's a big sign that you're watching a misfire.

It's unfortunate that the lack of originality in plot and character keeps Akeelah and the Bee stuck firmly in "After-School Special" territory.

Flashes of dark humor and steady, grounded performances make it a welcome return for Miller, making her first film since 2005's "The Ballad of Jack and Rose."

With this amoral business environment, it's not a question of if there will be another Enron, but when.

For gourmands who appreciate this sort of cinematic comfort food, though, The White Countess is a fitting finale for the producer.

The longer it goes on, the more you're swept up into the jet stream of good feeling.

Sometimes it's fun to put on costumes and wigs and just goof around.

If the plot unfolded in a less formulaic way, this could have been an impressive dark-tinged comedy. But in the end, it's more a case of talented actors trying to find something fresh in a fairly stale tale.

Here's a hint to tracking down an intelligent, discriminating significant other: stand outside the entrance to a theater showing Must Love Dogs. Once the film begins, look for the first person to walk out.

Fleck and Boden point out the absurd humor inherent in mental illness without trivializing its causes or consequences. This is not an easy trick, and it's largely thanks to Galifianakis' amalgam of wackiness and awkward sorrow that it works.

An immaculately crafted, splendidly acted drama with a message at its core of forgiveness and humanity. It's also blatantly manipulative, and, upon reflection, rather banal. In other words, it's the epitome of Oscar bait and almost serves as a step-by-step guide to creating such a beast.

This combination of fatalism, nostalgia and willfully naive optimism captures something essential in the Russian soul.

His life stands as a testament to the idea that an average-looking bloke with a can-do attitude and a dream in his heart can rub shoulders with the folks the rest of us only get to read about. And he's got the photographs to prove it.

Could easily be seen as little more than a commercial for his (Jakes) life-changing influence. Call him the first of a new breed: the cinevangelist.

This may have been fertile grounds for satire in 1925, when Noel Coward's drawing-room melodrama Easy Virtue debuted on the stage, but by now this film version feels rather done.

Armed with a cliche-ridden script and a gaggle of unconvincing performers, the result comes off more like an Ernest Hemingway letter to the Penthouse Forum than a revival of Hollywood magic.

My Summer of Love, with its lush, sunlit landscapes, may occupy the opposite end of the visual spectrum, but it reinforces the sense that this director knows his way around the range of human emotion as well.

The cinematic gloss serves to heighten our involvement in the tale, and to mark Fukunaga as a talent to be reckoned with.

Director Matthew Vaughn has provided an imperfect but still wickedly hilarious take on Mark Millar's deconstruction of superhero mythos.

These three central performances, and a solid script by Anders Thomas Jensen and director Susanne Bier, ground a potentially overwrought story in genuine feeling.

It says a lot about this movie that the most arresting character in it is Mary, whom Morton unsurprisingly endows with a fanatical combination of narcissism and rage.

The merits of its arguments can be debated on the Op-Ed pages, but at least the movie makes it clear that they desperately need to be.

The film works as well as it does thanks to Kimberly Roberts' magnetic screen presence.

The world depicted in Mark Romanek's Never Let Me Go is among the more beautiful dystopias in film history.

In 1960, British director Michael Powell made "Peeping Tom," the definitive exploration of voyeurism in the movies. The shocking thriller also practically ruined the career of the veteran filmmaker. Although the stalker-centric Alone With Her doesn't quite rank with Powell's masterpiece, it shows enough promise that one hopes writer/director Eric Nicholas doesn't share his fate.

Of all the roles where the star has played a character transformed from ordinary to goofy ("The Mask," "Me, Myself & Irene," "Liar Liar"), this is the one where he seems the most human, achieving that elusive quality in a Carrey film: tolerability.

Like "The Reader," this film treads unsteadily over the terrain of German guilt.

Clumsily animated feature; probably better as a video game than as a movie.

Isn't meant to be a depressing experience, as each of these unfortunate souls recovers a sense of pride in themselves and their tribe through music.

Controversy aside, there's no denying that Kinsey was a pivotal figure in 20th-century America, and one whose fascinating story makes for a fascinating film.

The question that lies at the heart of the documentary Aristide and the Endless Revolution is whether his exile was his own idea or whether he was pressured, even kidnapped, by the United States.

The authenticity of its setting and its actors make this effort worth a look.

The results are inspiring, demonstrating that an artistic eye is an innate thing.

The action scenes and plot points frequently defy logic, the apparent assumption being that it's just comic-book stuff and doesn't really need to make sense.

As fascinating as all the film history is, the movie's core is the dynamic between a famous but distant parent and his child.

Well-intentioned but overblown environmental agitprop.

Reprehensible.

Bloody, profane and compelling, Chopper marks an impressive debut for Dominik and a revelation of Bana's talent.

Humor and humanity keep The Boys Are Back from being a cloying mess.

If you're content to let dream logic take over, a lot can be gleaned from this odd, darkly funny meditation on life, death, love and revenge.

It mostly manages the impressive feat of mixing jaw-droppingly gross jokes with characters that are worth caring about.

As far as a coherent, hilarious story line, as well as sheer blasphemous glee, you can't do much better than "Life of Brian."

For his directorial debut, British actor Charles Dance tackles such familiar English themes as repressed desire and an arm's-length fascination with foreigners. Luckily for the slight story, he has recruited two of the most effortlessly brilliant grande dames of British film.

You're either on the boat or off the boat with something like this. But for those willing to brave the open water, it's an awe-inspiring ride.

If Young at Heart were merely a cheeky presentation of codgers belting out inappropriate tunes, it would be a curiosity and nothing more. But by getting inside the lives of a few of its members, the movie ultimately paints a moving portrait of senior citizens who believe it's better to burn out than fade away.

The problem is the obviousness with which the plot unfolds -- it's as if the filmmakers had a 14th-century audience in mind, one that had never seen a movie.

The first to take a big-picture view of just how the plans for postwar occupation went so far off track.

There's something in the obsessiveness of these characters that pushes the film just beyond the level of believability, even for a romantic fable such as this.

This final act goes on far too long and devolves into such a miasma of pap that it's clear Stoller had no idea how to wrap things up.

Antonio Banderas and Catherine Zeta-Jones are back, as is director Martin Campbell, but the result has the all-too-common feel of an expired equine redundantly abused.

If the presence of Cheadle and his handsome pal George Clooney can entice otherwise resistant viewers to learn about the ongoing travesty in western Sudan, then Darfur Now has done its job.

Perhaps a better moniker would have been "One Flew Over My Left Foot."

Is it a worthwhile movie? Yes, for the most part.

What's different here is the setting: Instead of modern-day misogyny, the heroine of The Last Mistress is up against its 19th-century version.

The word "hermaphrodite" is never actually uttered, for instance, and the whole topic is revealed obliquely, mostly through the puzzled eyes of Alvaro. Most impressively, a tale that could have been handled with condescending simplicity becomes a testament to the flawed but noble humanity of both parents and children.

Yes, a comedy, however dark, about a parent taking advantage of a child's death is a tough sell. But with Williams more restrained and sympathetic than he's been in years (again, faint praise), and a final act that makes up for a ponderous first third, "Dad" shows that it can be done.

Instead of a unique directorial style and a memorable soundtrack, we get a movie that, visually and aurally, pretty much goes by the book.

Ultimately, it's an instructive and entertaining examination of both the overlooked environmental costs of everyday life and the possibilities for change.

Confused, morally queasy, self-important mess.

For those disappointed in the grim, gritty feel of the latest James Bond movie and who long for the absurdity of the Roger Moore-era entries, Transporter 3, ought to fit the bill.

It's not without one or two missteps, but remains likely the most impressive juvenile acting you'll see this year.

The movie works reasonably well at this for its first half, but by then we've pretty much figured everything out.

The real star of the film is Horton, whose straight-talking ways and supportive circle of friends are a stark contrast to the haughty insults of academia.

Parents who want smart, harmless movies that don't condescend for their school-age kids -- a rare thing these days -- should be grateful for Nancy Drew.

As numbing as the drumbeat of downbeat documentaries can be, as hard as it is to even be shocked at the depravities committed in our name, a film like this remains important, both as an indictment of the present day and as a warning to future generations that the ends don't always justify the means.

For children old enough to get the jokes about Vicodin but young enough to innocently fantasize about movie stars, Win a Date With Tad Hamilton! will be a perfectly pitched midwinter treat.

The parts of "Run Ronnie Run" that advance the minimal plot can be painful to sit through, but the jokes scattered along the side of the story often are hilarious. [19 Sep 2003]

With limited means, Westby makes excellent use of Portland locations and cinematic references to make Film Geek a mostly spot-on, sometimes hilarious character study. His greatest asset is Malkasian, who gives Scotty the prototypical geek attributes.

Now that cinema technology has made a live-action "The Lord of the Rings" possible, these versions are likely to be displaced. They'll retain a nostalgic charm, though, especially for those to whom they were the first peek into the fantastic world of Middle Earth. [24 Aug 2001]

What makes the Dardennes' films so powerful is their refusal to judge, positively or negatively, their characters.

Wants to be both a hot-button, ripped-from-the-headlines statement movie and a crowd-pleasing, rip-roaring action thriller. It ends up meeting each goal about halfway.

Avoiding the hyperbole and condescension that sometimes make it easy for ideological foes to dismiss the likes of Oliver Stone or Michael Moore, Costa-Gavras relies on the sterling performances of his actors (including Irene Papas as Montand's widow), and was rewarded with a pair of Oscar nominations.

Politics and art come together in predictable, moderately enjoyable fashion in Paris 36.

In the fine tradition of well-made thrillers, it's enough that it all feels solid at the moment, and the final revelations are unexpected and seemingly inevitable.

Its smallness of scale, and undemonstrative nature, could make it a welcome change of pace from Hollywood bombast, especially for fans of the life aquatic.

The film never gets beyond Chapman's obsession with "Catcher in the Rye" and a few bits of "Taxi Driver" dialogue to show us anything we didn't already know.

Ultimately, though, it's hard not to feel like Hou is saying more explicitly and expansively in nearly two hours what Lamorisse managed to convey in only one-fourth as much film.

One man's befuddlement is another's awe at the ineffability of time, and from either perspective, this is a spectacle not soon forgotten, even if never understood.

Despite the mysteries of the plot, a sitcom-style sense of expectation creeps into Saving Face, which sometimes feels comfortable but mostly serves to spotlight the shortcomings in a script that invents compelling characters but doesn't give them much out of the ordinary to do.

What makes Freedom Writers work is the very thing that makes it seem like a drag: predictable inspiration.

For those under the impression that Icelandic life consists solely of fishing and the hosting of international summits, this triangle of love, lust, and misunderstanding from director Baltasar Kormakur is a welcome treat.

The juvenile performances are impressive, as they usually are in foreign films, and Spiridonov handles some grueling material with impressive maturity. But the movie comes undone with an abrupt and preposterous finale.

The sort of movie that makes you feel like a heel for not liking it: Independently made and heartfelt, it also happens to have been shot in Portland. Nonetheless, the accumulation of cliches big and small manage to erase whatever goodwill its other features have engendered.

Herzog's drive to bring Dengler's story to a wide audience might have paradoxically caused him to do what he seems normally to abhor: compromise.

Grim, post-apocalyptic, special-effects extravaganza.

Hardcore genre fans may find some appeal in this warmed-over tale, but most viewers will be squirming in their seats even before the prolonged finale.

Whatever the faults of Goya's Ghosts -- and there are several -- you've got to hand it to director Milos Forman: It takes real chutzpah to cast Randy Quaid as the king of Spain.

The movie knows enough, most of the time, to just let the funny people be funny.

All this star power goes for naught in Traeger's film, which tries to blend bucolic sweetness with juvenile let's-make-a-porno jokes.

Youth may be wasted on some of the young, but the two aspiring Norwegian novelists at the center of Reprise, director Joachim Trier's debut feature, try desperately to avoid that particular cliche.

Mixed messages are the order of the day in the conflicted British drama Irina Palm. At first blush, it seems like another entry in the saucy-but-safe Brit genre, a la "Calendar Girls," "Saving Grace" or "The Full Monty," but it turns out to be both more ambitious and less successful than those diversions.

Kidder's performance as Danielle is a highlight, creating a childlike woman who is beguilingly naive yet obviously fraught with peril. [22 Sep 2000]

Just because others bear blame for what went on doesn't mean they bore none, and while the deal they got was raw, they never lacked the ability to say no.

An informative and frightening documentary.

It doesn't take an awareness of the ethnic and cultural differences between the miniskirted siren and the shy Arab youth to see that she might be more than he can handle.

Some will win and some will lose their encounters with unbending American bureaucracy, but all deserve better, which should leave viewers eager for an even-handed take on this issue crossing over into disappointment.

A fresh look at the first chapters in the monarch's life, while maintaining historical fidelity.

Doesn't have much new to offer in either style or substance. It's got the same glossy-gritty urban warfare sheen as "Black Hawk Down" and every other Third-World geopolitical action thriller of the last few years.

An action film without a completely empty head, and these days, that's as rare as Excalibur itself.

Significantly cleverer than its moniker, even though it picks for its satire one of the most inviting targets on record: the world of contemporary art.

The story is as predictable as it is saccharine. Apart from the presence of local landmarks, there's no reason the Rose City should be proud of this effort.

Mostly this film is a glorious ode to the culture and family bonds that override all else, and to the expressiveness of both the human and animal actors.

Overall, Luther does a satisfying job of restoring humanity to a woodcut icon.

Even with nothing at stake emotionally, though, he conjures some real scares, and the finale is as much a head-scratcher as a heart-stopper -- in a good way.

The Joneses turns out to be a smart little comedy that tosses some sharp little darts at our consumer-driven culture.

It's a treat to be diverted by a film that actually has a brain.

The Manson Family, with its attention to historical detail and chronology, is more effective and disturbing than those grade-Z shockers: It's a genuine look at unmitigated madness and evil. Needless to say, don't bring the kids.

In addition to a vast array of incredible autos crafted from fiberglass, Roth also created the anti-Mickey cartoon character Rat Fink, a deranged-looking, filthy rodent.

The pace of this Oscar nominee may be a bit contemplative for audiences seeking "Yojimbo"-style action, but it's surely a more realistic and moving look at life in 19th-century Japan.

An unforgettable experience.

Remarkable, unheralded story.

A sometimes very funny movie made by very funny people.

Sayles has committed the cardinal sin of putting his politics ahead of his characters, and the result is predictably lame.

As sometimes occurs in unsupervised experiments, the result proves foul-smelling and potentially toxic.

An enjoyable sojourn into the world of Dickens and could inspire a trend. Shakespeare and Austen have had their Hollywood moments during the past few years; why not the proto-Hollywood Dickens?

Giamatti, in fact, makes off with a few scenes as the literally mustache-twirling antagonist, providing some welcome moments of over-the-top levity.

This moronic yuletide time-waster might work as a way to grab a few winks at the mall during last-minute shopping, but it's not going to end up as a highlight on the resume of anyone involved.