Paula Nechak

This bloodless, nuanced little thriller carries small weight save for Huppert's enigmatic, thrifty performance.

The jokes run dry, the situation is redundant, the cast becomes tiresome and the running time is interminable.

Meanders as aimlessly as its drugged-out characters.

Feels the scratches of too much time and tinkling and is as disjointed as a dislocated shoulder.

It's a well-acted but rote and strictly by the book "war movie."

While young Coppola is a pro with her camera, she'd be wise to brush up on her storytelling skills.

While the film shuns the glamour or glitz that an American movie might demand, Scherfig tosses us a romantic scenario that is just as simplistic as a Hollywood production.

(Arteta's) yanked an eerily accomplished performance out of his lead actor.

Predictable and surprisingly confusing in its ultimate message.

Not only did it not engage the adults, its lackluster story line didn't spread much illusion or magic over the kids in the audience either.

Craig's got the stuff but the ending of this cake is soggy for its protagonist and audience.

Never offers much enlightenment through its message.

The actors navigate tough characters through emotional mayhem with such intense determination it's a shame they're undercut by the intrusive voice-over.

There are some nice ideas floating around this ambitious film, as well as attempts to say them in a unique way.

Much ado about very little because it takes no stand and gives little insight into the Chopper's psyche.

Works best when it devotes itself to the small group of main characters featured on the show.

If you can forgive some woeful casting and a plot that is as creakingly thin as an old staircase, you can enjoy director Christopher Nolan's The Prestige.

What it lacks is the wit or even the cynicism to lighten the emotional load.

This is simply another in a long line of utterly unnecessary remakes that, having nothing new to say, clutch at crassness and dumbness.

Wenham and Porter make the film better than it should be.

Certainly kept the toddlers (including mine) at an advance screening engrossed, but for parents and reviewers, it was more of a struggle.

Outside of a smart performance by Shawn Hatosy as Tim Dunphy, there just isn't much that's enlightening or new in this intimate recollection.

Takes itself awfully seriously. It feels a bit like a grudge piece, laboring to grasp at large themes, but it is as trivialized as the capricious world it explores.

Shakespeare's comical, all-too-human tale of lust, foreplay and wordplay is buried beneath bad taste.

The film, despite the occasional gross-out joke, can't disguise the fact that it's a sweet old sappy -- even dated -- love story. Only Molly Ringwald is missing.

The film is inherently calculated and cold, so smugly satisfied with itself and its surprise final trick that it seems to be running its own con to convince us the script's house of cards is actually substantial, original and slick.

There's something flat and obscure about this well-acted stalker movie.

Outside of its star power, it reeks of indie film and doesn't hold much mainstream steam.