Paula Nechak

It demands people pay attention and look inward to find the private compass that will navigate us through murky sensibilities that are as capable of seducing us as they are Tom Ripley.

There is a certain poignancy to a film that metaphorically examines the stages of a woman's life through each character.

Quite long and violent enough to have made several critics squirm in their seats during a recent press screening.

An indie film that was lavishly praised and won the Filmmakers Trophy at the Sundance Film Festival earlier this year, rolls along in the well-rutted, dusty tire tracks of other mother-and-daughter road trip

The real humor comes, once again from Murphy, whose Donkey is so genuinely funny and clever that he very nearly steals the film. Except that it's stolen by Banderas as a rogue Puss In Boots.

Although the start of the movie is a little fragmented, and the last quarter turns predictably rote, the middle is heartfelt, wonderfully diverse and empowering.

Captures the lovely, heart-and-eye-opening ode to youthful possibility with affection and compassion.

Predictable and surprisingly confusing in its ultimate message.

The film is so full of ideas and so dense that its narrative splinters, moving tangentially, and ultimately is weighed down by its rant and rhetoric.

A terrific movie about middle-age malaise and a comedy of unusual wit and drollness.

The film is thriller, comedy and rite-of-passage story, but Boyle never loses sight of what's at its core.

The two young actors -- Hutcherson and Robb -- are terrific and unpretentious.

Works well as a metaphor for a more innocent time.

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.

More like the kid shows that populate Nickelodeon.

Brooks has made a movie that is about separation from convenience and having to deal one-on-one with a stranger in a strange land. The result is a profound and moving movie.

Ok, I admit at first I was just laughing at the sheer gutsiness of South Park creators Trey Parker and Matt Stone. But after 10 minutes, I was laughing at the script.

It's a taut, unexpected study that asks many questions about retribution and redemption.

Not only feels real, but it avoids preciousness and cute eccentricity and, in its lean, almost grave, cut-and-dried delivery makes more of an emotional impact because we're able to imprint our own memories of adolescence upon it.

But the irony of Les Destinées is that while Assayas is a pro at examining the inner workings of present-day connection and nuance, he's so overwhelmed by the sheer historical scope and detail of this massive saga that after three hours we're starved for emotional involvement with such inaccessible characters.

In the end, this is a film about retribution and justice within unjust circumstances. Each character has a personal code of honor -- Arthur, Charlie and Capt. Stanley are all given their dignity -- and it's that code that sets the film apart.

Has enough simmering beneath its sweaty, grimy and disconsolate surface to be more than just another rite-of-passage missive set in the '70s.

An odd charmer with a whisper of autobiography (Blitz makes his film's protagonist a stutterer, just as the director was in school) and it's made even better by young lead actor Reece Thompson.

An original, well-crafted plea that uses restraint instead of titillation to make a cautionary tale that aches with pathos and power.

An empowering film for children, showing them at their most capable, working through problems and finding innovative solutions to overcome what seems like an insurmountable obstacle.

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

Dedicates itself to the beauty and thrill of bodies and motion and in doing so upstages Altman's cinematic conduit. The medium ultimately surpasses its messenger.

Often as stillborn in pace as it is conceptually compelling.