Paula Nechak

A mess of incohesiveness and fragmented storytelling.

It has a frenetic, unsettled edginess that chafes against its serene, woodsy, upscale private school setting.

Witherspoon is terrific.

Zeffirelli creates a lovely, perfectly composed and lyrical look at life under Mussolini's black-shirted fascist regime. But despite danger on every corner in Italy, there is a tinge of rose-colored sentiment that blurs the events yet lends to the making of an affecting dramatic period piece.

Hunt and Johansson, two usually good actresses, are vapidly awful, teetering out of their elements in this shakily drawn period piece.

An innocuous, hit-and-miss affair.

Flies coach instead of first class, despite a charismatic cast.

While the film is technically polished and visually breathtaking, it lacks depth and becomes little more than a lawless fairy tale packed with pretty people.

A comic, loving, affectionate glimpse of the '80s, its music and fashions, and most of all at that hard-to-find thing called true friendship.

A low-maintenance crowd-pleaser, but we've seen the entire film, in thematic snippets, before.

A heady, impressionistic mixture of biography, fantasy and social history in which it isn't always clear which is which.

The biggest tragedy about Milos Forman's foray into the life and times of Spanish artist Francisco De Goya is the waste of so much great raw material.

A delight and a surprise.

Isn't very pretty despite its extraordinary look. In fact, the film is downright queasy and unsettling.

Can't find its rhythm and stride. It plays it far too safe and slick.

The film is dominated by computer-generated effects and they're most of its problem -- they don't give us anything to emotionally attach to or invest in.

For all its somber heaviness and reverential gravity, it never quite pulls all the elements and themes together.

A film that takes you by surprise, refusing to relinquish its grim, fascinating hold. Better yet, it has crept up on us without much advance promotional fanfare. The less known about its twists, the better.

An almost too-sophisticated comedy, pitting the New World mentality and brash pugnaciousness of America against the staid arrogance of custom that defines the French bourgeoisie.

A mystery that isn't mysterious, a thriller that's barely thrilling.

The film strains to achieve the comedic gait of "Wag the Dog" or the improvised, overlapping style that so defined Robert Altman's Hollywood movie, "The Player."

The movie's political and moral points -- and theme about creating family however you can find it -- elevate it above the average kids movie.

It's an unenlightening film that proves youthful anarchy is just as dull as a midlife crisis, and sadly, as predictable, too.

While there are maybe two moments of genuinely clever humor, Storytelling is the work of a previously promising filmmaker who, having no new ideas, has morphed into a sniggering schoolboy intent upon being mean.

Belongs to its trio of "bovine" voice talent -- Roseanne Barr, Dame Judi Dench and Jennifer Tilly -- who play with such tongue-in-cheek delight upon their public personas that it's hard to separate cow character from the celebrities.

Darkly funny.

Disney seems intent upon overdosing audiences with the little guy proving himself against a seemingly superior force.

It isn't quite like watching a train wreck -- it's more perverse and anti-climactic -- but it's as hard to shake once it's passed.