Peter Travers

In the guise of a nerve-jangling thriller, director Gabriele Salvatores, an Oscar winner for "Mediterraneo," delivers a fierce, frightening and deeply moving study of childhood. It's a keeper.

Keep "Survivor" and "Fear Factor," and give me this spellbinding mind teaser, the ultimate game for movie buffs.

Sleepers, for all the doubts it raises, is the work of a man who speaks for absent friends and "for the children we were." It's his secret heart.

Stroman should have studied the original Producers that Brooks directed in 1968, with Zero Mostel and Gene Wilder. It answers the question "Where did they go right?"

As a thriller, Firewall is flabby and familiar.

The Doors is a thrilling spectacle - the King Kong of rock movies - featuring a starmaking, ball-of-fire performance by Val Kilmer as Morrison.

It's Carell who projects the movie's only sense of mischief. But it's too little and too late.

The Pangs deliver enough shivery scares to keep you up nights. Eyes wide shut.

Let the unsettling secrets of this outrageously funny and steadily engrossing meditation on the life of two high school misfits after graduation catch you by surprise. It's that good.

Without an ounce of phony Hollywood uplift, Winterbottom's film cuts right to the heart.

Watching the stars try to out-cutesy the mutt is one for the puke bucket.

It’s feels like the New Puritanism (recently repped by the outcry over Janet Jackson’s "wardrobe malfunction" at the Super Bowl) is seeping in. But in the barbershop? Say it isn’t so.

Imagine David Mamet rewriting his political satire "Wag the Dog" -- in which a president and his advisers declare war to distract the media from the prez's horn-dog activities -- as a joke-free kidnap drama.

A sequel of twisted thrills and sly surprises.

The film itself, energetically directed and written by Michael Hoffman, can't always rise to the level of its two dynamo stars.

The film looks and feels authentic, but Duchovny has powered his undeniably personal journey with a counterfeit heart.

Sometimes a movie comedy just clicks. Welcome to one of those times.

Sarah Silverman is the most outrageously funny woman alive.

Keeps the laughs coming, and a dynamo named Steve Zahn is the cheif reason why. It's a one-joke movie, but the cast knows how to sell it.

The Woodman has recovered his common touch. On him, it looks good.

It's Vincent D'Onofrio as Pooh-Bear, a drug lord who's snorted so much meth his nose had to be replaced by a plastic one, who kicks ass.

Nothing in Joe Wright's screen version of Ian McEwan's dense, internalized 2001 novel of secrets and lies should really work, but damn near everything does. It's some kind of miracle. Written, directed and acted to perfection, Atonement sweeps you up on waves of humor, heartbreak and ravishing romance.

First-time director Eli Roth turns this cheapie into a greatest-hits of horror. It's a blast of good gory fun that just won't quit.

There's not a timid, sympathy-begging minute in it. Even better, you leave Joan Rivers: A Piece of Work with the exhilarating feeling that the lady is just hitting her stride.

With Newman, the movie emerges as a lively character piece with flashes of humor and grace.

Take a tired formula...Stir with a director, Florent Siri, who has no shame about stealing every sadistic suspense trick from the Die Hard series. Serve to a gullible audience willing to pay top dollar for secondhand goods.

Lennon's spirit, like his music, shines through this movie like a beacon. Powerful stuff.

A riveting screen adventure.

It's unmissable, flaws and all, because riveting suspense spiced with diabolical laughs and garnished with a sprig of kinky romance add up to the tastiest dish around.

Philip Seymour Hoffman creates a mesmerizing portrait of the artist as a young, old and middle-aged man.

Gilliam, along with the gifted cinematographer Roger Pratt and production designer Jeffrey Beecroft, fashions a disturbing and dazzling lost world.

It's difficult to imagine a summer film programmed more cynically than this repugnant sequel. RoboCop 2 is all machine, and it's all vile.

Horror-movie heaven.

Watching his struggle is illuminating, unnerving and unforgettable.

Begins like an episode of "I Love Lucy" and ends with the impact of "Easy Rider."

The self-congratulatory histrionics of Williams, lower lip trembling as he triumphs over torture in the name of the human spirit, represents a trend in Hollywood to make accessible melodrama out of unspeakable tragedy.

Would it be asking too much if the hit-and-miss jokes could maybe nudge an inch beyond the obvious?

All the pieces hang together. You can't say that about many movies.

Want to know what the “right stuff” really is? Take a look.

In terms of excitement, imagination and rule-busting experimentation, it's a gusher.

No fair giving away the mysteries of The Dark Knight. It's enough to marvel at the way Nolan -- a world-class filmmaker, be it "Memento," "Insomnia" or "The Prestige" -- brings pop escapism whisper-close to enduring art.

Until the end, when Robinson allows the lunacy to run into rant, the provocative Advertising adds up to frightful good fun. That is, if you’re not put off by accepting a preening pocket of pus as a leading man.

Stupefyingly stupid thriller.

Auteuil and Depardieu spar hilariously, and writer-director Francis Veber, following "The Dinner Game," offers another delicious treat.

It's slick girlie stuff, but the cast makes it go down easy.

What a bold notion for a movie, and what a bust in terms of execution.

What a shame that Kelly's pacing doesn't run as fast as his imagination. Instead of sweeping you along, The Box just sits there like something unclaimed at lost and found. Damaged goods.

It's a hilarious and heartfelt ode to twentysomething angst. Braff has himself a winner.

To cut Toys a minor break, it is ambitious. It is also a gimmicky, obvious and pious bore, not to mention overproduced and overlong.

What's missing in Prince of Persia is a sense that all the running, jumping, climbing and fighting is leading to something. The best video games challenge you to reach the next level. Prince of Persia is content to skim the surface.

This dizzyingly intricate film reveals new facets each time you see it. We leave Vertigo unsettled, like Scottie, who ends up on the edge of a precipice. Hitchcock is daring us to leap. He has prepared the ultimate fix for a cinema junkie: a movie to get lost in.

What Lynch, who wrote the script at 19, sees as high drama is really high camp. And Fenn seems clueless on how to play her limbless character.

Propelled by Mark Mancina's percussive score, this Tarzan swings.

Jagger the actor is someone you want to see again. Eat your heart out, Madonna.

Aims for pure joy and achieves it.

In a multiplex filled with empty New Year vessels (take that, Kangaroo Jack), this holdover grabs you hard.

Before this trippy, mesmerizing movie swerves out of control, it delivers an exhilarating and challenging ride.

Scenes move from hurt to resigned laughter and ring poignantly true. The heroically unfashionable result is a minor but distinct pleasure.

Ang Lee's unmissable and unforgettable Brokeback Mountain hits you like a shot in the heart. It's a landmark film and a triumph for Heath Ledger and Jake Gyllenhaal.

Could 1960s-style sex, drugs and rock & roll really have been this dull?

Dragon errs by trafficking too much in what made Bruce Lee sell instead of what made him tick.

Within its small, darkly funny range, Trust is an exceptional film that stays alert to the mysteries of love.

The estrogen overload damn near did me in.

Stimulating entertainment, as rigorously challenging and painfully funny as anything the Coens have done. But it's necessary to meet the Coens halfway. If you don't, Barton Fink is an empty exercise that will bore you breathless. If you do, it's a comic nightmare that will stir your imagination like no film in years.

The new Mummy is, how can I put it? Just freakin' awful.

OK, sensitive tykes may be scared shitless. But those who tough it out with this twisted, trippy adventure in impure imagination will only be the better for it.

Who would have guessed that a documentary about gamers obsessed with scoring a world record at Donkey Kong would not only be roaringly funny but serve as a metaphor for the decline of Western civilization?

No use fighting it. this laugh-getting, tear-jerking, part-affecting, part-appalling display of audience manipulation is practically critic-proof...The result can best be described as shamelessly entertaining.

A thrilling combination of documentary and musical dazzler.

Somewhere along the line, Shanley let his gentle fable about the fear of love, responsibility and commitment degenerate into crude farce. And he has only himself to blame.

For a while, The Dark Half is a compelling study, in chiller guise, of an artist wrestling with his creative demons. But Stark is a real terror only in the shadows. When he emerges, all we see is Hutton — in a showy makeup job — struggling to change his wimp image.

Pitt and Ford try to dig deeper, but the script undercuts them with preachy dialogue that might as well read, "Insert stereotype here."

Wood, whose mostly mute turn is defined by his black suit and glasses, can only stare in stupefaction at Schreiber's jittery mix of broad laughs and sentiment. Audiences will share the feeling.

With shocking humor and surprising grace, Von Trier creates something unique and memorable.

Fusing animation and live action with a series of outrageous props, Gondry veers dangerously close to being precious. But make no mistake: Gondry's hallucinatory brilliance holds you in thrall.

Thornton plays this low-ball farce with deceptive, masterful ease. Appreciate it.

The pop diva goes down with the bubbles in this hopelessly shallow soap opera.

Suffers from lulls and lapses and one lulu of a casting gaffe, but this keenly observant spoof of the fame game is hardly the work of a burnout.

Guess what? It's almost bearable.

An appallingly clumsy and stupid take on drugs, kidnapping and suicide in suburbia.

If you're a Gilliam junkie, as I am, you go with it, even when the script by Ehren Kruger (The Skeleton Key) loses its shaky hold on coherence.

Most movies stress the agony of art (think of Kirk Douglas' Van Gogh in "Lust for Life"). Schnabel's exceptional film honors his friend by showing the act of creation as a natural high.

Woody Allen's best movie in years means to trip us up: Sexual sizzle. London instead of Manhattan. Brit actors. Dark humor with a sting that leaves welts. You bet it's a change. And it looks good on the Woodman.

Deliver it does, big time.

It's not just that the movie itself is wicked awful, it's that Mr. Deeds brings out the worst in Adam Sandler.

Langella delivers a master class in acting. He's playing Leonard Schiller, an aging author aching from the loss of his wife, a weak heart and literary neglect.

Affleck is modest and engaging, which keeps the movie out of "Gigli" territory. But it's close.

A rich blend of humor and heartbreak.

Get your titles straight -- this is the good one, and a roaring good time.

If "Mr. Holland's Opus" made you puke, you'd better bring a bucket to this true-life weepie about the importance of teaching music in schools.

What makes Legends such an entertaining male weepie is the star shine. Though the admirable Quinn has the toughest role, Pitt carries the picture.

Slick-dick director Simon West, of "Con Air" and "The General's Daughter" infamy, continues to show no flair at all for blending action and character. Jolie and Lara deserved better. So did we.

It's a hoot to watch Fonda cut loose and mix it up with J. Lo, even when the laughs turn mean-spirited.

You can feel the heat that ignites this gripping tale, and the humor and humanity that root it in feeling. Sayles knows how to use his social conscience: He lets it rip.

Disney deserves praise for raising the ante on its ambitions in animation. Next time, though, a little less civics lesson and a little more heart.

Ephron homes in on what's been missing in movies and in life: ardor, longing and smart talk about the screwed-up notions that pass for love.

Rules needs that dose of hilarity. Ellis' satire, filtered through Avary's harsh lens, is hard to stomach, harder to ignore.

Del Toro never coddles the audience. He means us to leave Pan's Labyrinth shaken to our souls. He succeeds.

Verhoeven, who inflicted "Showgirls" on us, skips the provacative questions raised by invisibility and goes straight to rape and murder.

The modestly perfect antidote to a synthetic, overblown movie summer: a blast of exuberant fun that stays rooted in humanity.

Altman, showing the ardor and assurance of a master, pulls us into his film with seductive power. You won't want to miss a thing.

Laugh you will, loud and often. In the Loop deserves to be a sleeper hit. The whole cast is stellar. And it proves that smart and funny can exist in the same movie, even in summer.

Strains credulity at every turn.

Delivers more suspense than a tombful of mummies.

What Cars teaches is how to blend brash comedy with technical astonishments so that each enhances the other. I can't imagine who wouldn't want to test-drive this one. Like the promos say, "It's got that new-movie smell."

The F&F franchise ran out of gas half way into the 2001 original.

You won't know what outrageous fun is until you see Borat. High-five!

Purposely out of step with the feel-good-movie era, he offers caustic wit instead of gags, blunt questions instead of glib answers and challenges instead of reassurances. Bless him.

The movie is often tremendously exciting.

Despite over-ripe narration and an understandable urge to cram too much in, Ghosts of the Abyss is a thrilling documentary.

The result is a movie miracle; it soars.

For all the film's flaws, this is a war story told with passion about a band of brothers that still has the power to inspire.

Hot! Hot! Hot!

The butt of the hilarious and heartfelt screenplay by Paul Rudnick (Jeffrey) is homophobia, and his sting is wickedly on target.

Seven Years in Tibet, however flawed, has feeling and purpose. It bears witness.

It's getting harder to sustain a rooting interest in the career of Johnny Knoxville.

The blistering confrontation scene between Hopper and Walken -- both in peak form -- will be talked about for years. It's pure Tarantino: a full-throttle blast of bloody action and verbal fireworks.

Though saddled with hoary jokes, Goldberg at least pumps some funky life into the bland proceedings.

All the acting is first-rate -- Dukakis gives major dimensions to a supporting role. And Christie, a Sixties screen goddess in "Darling" and "Doctor Zhivago," shows that her spirit and grace are eternal. She's a beauty. So is the movie.

Linklater is a sly and formidable talent, bringing an anthropologist's eye to this spectacularly funny celebration of the rites of stupidity. His shitfaced "American Graffiti" is the ultimate party movie -- loud, crude, socially irresponsible and totally irresistible.

It's Corbijn, shooting with a poet's eye in a harshly stunning black-and-white, who cuts to the soul of Ian's life and music. You don't watch this movie, you live it.

Powerfully moving and fanatically obtuse in equal doses. The typical star rating doesn't apply, because scenes range from classic to poor and all stops in between.

If you tamp down your expectations -- those gaping plot holes are dangerous! -- there is a storm of scary fun to be had in this Scandinavian splatterfest.

With a $15,000 budget too puny to empty a petty-cash drawer, the no-frills Paranormal Activity comes packed with thrills.

Lightweight but utterly beguiling.

The code talkers deserved better than a hollow tribute.

You leave Lady thinking there are still voices in Shyamalan's head well worth a listen.

The best surfing documentary ever made. And that includes 1966's "The Endless Summer" and its terrific 1994 sequel -- both from Bruce Brown, Dana's father.

Unforgiven is the most provocative western of Eastwood's career, and with Gene Hackman, Morgan Freeman and Richard Harris along for the ride, it's also the most potently acted.

This is Soderbergh's show, and a haunting and hypnotic show it is.

A potent thriller that grows in intensity as the audience realizes that the character it likes most is most likely a nut job.

Richardson is extraordinary; it’s a brave, award-caliber performance...The fiercely erotic and deeply moving Damage casts a hypnotic spell and without moralizing.

These three unimprovable actresses make The Hours a thing of beauty.

This haunting film never pushes itself on you. It trusts you to suss out the horror that lies beneath the veneer of innocence. You'll be knocked for a loop.

In Washington's haunted eyes, in the stunning cinematography of Roger Deakins (Fargo) that plunges into the mad flare of combat, in the plot that deftly turns a whodunit into a meditation on character and in Zwick's persistent questioning of authority, Courage Under Fire honors its subject and its audience.

Even the film's missteps (the score, by Barrington Pheloung, is cringe-inducing) can't stop this meditation on love -- Martin calls it "Jane Austen for the twenty-first century" -- from melting into heartbreak.

Hook may keep the action spinning, but the noise you hear isn’t life. It’s the sound of symbols crashing.

It’s a power house.

Run, Fat Boy, Run stays out of sitcom quicksand long enough to make you think that Schwimmer has a knack for this comedy-directing thing.

Lee's technique is impeccable, but he's chasing more inner demons than one creature feature can handle. No wonder the audience cheers when TV Hulk Lou Ferrigno shows up for a cameo. It's a reminder of a time when it was easier being green and a Hulk could just get pissed off and bust shit up.

A potently acted, buoyantly funny film that trades on emotion without making you gag on it.

Clint Eastwood pours everything he knows about directing into Mystic River. His film sneaks up, messes with your head and then floors you. You can't shake it. It's that haunting, that hypnotic.

RocknRolla is a kickass crime drama that just doesn't know to quit while it's ahead.

Kitano is a riveting spectacle. So's the movie.

Irresistibly deranged.

Has the juice to get its hooks into you, knock you off balance and keep you that way for two hours. It's a triumph for director Sam Mendes. The passion and precision of his Road work is staggering.

Sensational, sicko fun -- you won't believe your eyes -- and just the thing to shake up the creeping conservatism that is draining the vulgar life out of pop culture.

You wanna feel all right? This is the holiday movie that will do it.

Shepherd wants to say something profound about the effect of a deceitful government on human values. But it's tough to slog through a movie that has no pulse.

Cool stuff. Cool movie.

From the lowercase lettering of the title to the deadly familiarity of the plot, there is much to grate on your nerves in this TV Afterschool Special trying to pass as a real movie.

When Short is onscreen, a movie that provides only fitful laughter bubbles over into bliss.

Get out your pooper-scoopers. Doo happens June 14th, warn the ads for Scooby-Doo. And they say there's no truth in Hollywood.

Talk about disappointing. Director Doug Liman exuded style and cool in "Swingers," "Go" and "The Bourne Identity." He lost his way in the star bloat of "Mr. and Mrs. Smith," and now his mojo is buried in this amped-up sci-fi chase flick.

Does romantic comedy have to come off as sugared stupidity? It does here.

Soul Men is a chance to salute these masters of mirth and music. Take it.

The saddest element of Two if by Sea is watching Bullock get dragged down in the drivel.

Hits hardest when it bypasses sentiment to ponder the inextricable mix of love and pain that comes with the ties that bind.

Winter's Bone is unforgettable. It means to shake you, and does.

Purists, be warned: This scare-flick quickie has as much relation to the 1953 Vincent Price classic with the same title as Paris Hilton does to acting.

No wonder Kurt Cobain was a fan. But it's the way Feuerzeig walks with him on the line between creativity and madness that digs this haunting and hypnotic film into your memory.

It's a no-go. View From the Top boasts a first-class cast, but they're all traveling coach.

What makes it delicious fun is Posey, a party girl for the ages.

It's hard to resist the film's exuberance.

Once again, it’s the script (by newcomer David Rich) that shoots the picture’s promise all to hell.

The actors are to die for. Bening and Moore nail every nuance of a relationship going adrift. And Ruffalo is dynamite as a man keeping himself at a distance. Kids makes its own special magic. It's irresistible

Mellencamp has made an admirably unfussy movie that sneaks into your heart with the hypnotic power of a song.

What a shame, though, that the movie isn't a livelier business.

Leaves you feeling tense and terrific. It's fun to be fooled.

Whatever you think of Dubya, he has balls. The movie doesn't.

It's a dumb summer movie done with smarts.

Restores our belief in the power of movies to transform reality, even temporarily. So what if it's not perfect? It's magic.

You just don't expect Hollywood to produce a masterwork so early in the new year. And it hasn't. This slice of celluloid dynamite comes from Romania, and what you see will floor you.

I like Longoria Parker on "Desperate Housewives" and truly believe she could have a career on the big screen if she promises to never again work with writer-director Jeff Lowell, who perpetrated this offense of a ghost comedy on her and on her otherwise gifted co-stars Paul Rudd and Lake Bell.

What the filmmakers fail to recognize is that history on the page is quite different from what it needs to be onscreen, namely alive and visceral.

The stunts dazzle until you miss the low-key charm and cost-conscious inventiveness of the original. Desperado is best when Rodriguez lets his playful side cut through the blare of a born filmmaker indulging his first chance at high-end Hollywood fireworks.

You long for things to go bump in the night, but the movie muffles every risk in a blanket of bland.

This baby has the stuff to end the movie summer on a note of dazzle and distinction.

In telling a tale of love across time, Aronofsky is sometimes guilty of creating arty, pretentious psychobabble. But in visual terms, he's trying to expose his own raw, romantic heart. Folly? Maybe. But a risk worth taking.

Everett, whose scenes with Firth are a droll delight, nails every sly laugh. And Witherspoon adds her own legally blond American sparkle to this British party.

Christopher Plummer steals the show without resorting to camp as Nicholas' wounded and wounding Uncle Ralph. It's a great performance and a reminder of Dickens' grandeur. This Cliff's Notes of a film, though lively fun, only hints at that.

Lurie has crafted a different kind of thriller, one with a mind and a heart.

The result is a film of surprise and wonder, lyrically attuned to the ticking intensity of romance.

One terrific movie... Pacino and Depp are a match made in acting heaven, riffing off each other with astonishing subtlety and wit.

What Murphy's doing isn't acting; it's masturbation.

A uniquely hypnotic and haunting love story sparked by Nicolas Cage and Elisabeth Shue at their career best.

The crazy-ass imagination at work in Being John Malkovich hits you like a blast of pure oxygen...this movie of constant astonishments will make you laugh hard and long.

What's left is a lot of strenuous playacting when what's called for is the finesse of the Japanese original. Skip this stub-toed substitute.

Breathlessly boring.

What should have been an affecting film becomes a rank blend of sentiment and sadism in the hands of Bruce Beresford, the Australian writer and director.

A blast of comic irreverence that serves as a starring vehicle for two stoner characters who had previously been relegated to the sidelines.

It would be great to see this turd squashed under a truck, preferably a semi.

Leatherheads is most on its game when it's in the game, and in the zone of Clooney's no-bull affection for the faces of his actors.

The film takes a true story and drags it through a swamp of hyped-up Hollywood cliches.

The brooding RPatz doesn’t bite. But his movie does.

Josh Lucas plays Haskins with a no-bull vigor that comes in handy when the script saddles him with all-bull platitudes.

As a thriller, The Recruit is merely an entertaining ride. But remember: Nothing is what it seems. It's the subtext -- two actors from different generations faking each other out with skill and affection -- that counts.

Paltrow looks glam even in death, which only supports the notion, raised by Plath’s daughter Frieda Hughes, that the movie would be about a "Sylvia Suicide Doll." Good call.

What shakes the dust off this period piece is the vibrant acting.

Foster keeps the party hopping, although more dark humor would have helped before she winds it down with sentiment and bromides.

The radiant Barrymore energizes Cinderella with a tough core of intelligence and wit.

The film belongs to Blanchett -- this hellcat Virgin Queen is something to see.

Kid'n Play have charm, but it's disturbing to see them settle for the slick. Their rap used to stand for something; now it's just easy listening.

There is one high note. You can approach Speed Racer as the trippiest stonerfest since Stanley Kubrick took his space odyssey.

In this risky, riveting film, our most prolific and provocative moviemaker uses his wit to touch a nerve. Crimes and Misdemeansors is so funny it hurts.

Shaft scores by lacing ba-da-boom action with social pertinence.

Open Range copies the rain and flood of the Clint Eastwood classic but can't match it for dark-night-of-the-soul brilliance.

Keaton has crafted something rare: a screwball comedy that cuts to the heart.

Boyle and screenwriter Alex Garland plumb the violence of the mind with slashing wit and shocking gravity. Happy nightmares.

Because Allen hasn't lost his knack for slapstick with a sting, Anything Else hits its mark more often than not.

It's a winner. And not just for oenophiles. Director Randall Miller, who co-wrote the script with his wife Jody Savin, keeps the plot brimming with spirit and wit.

Unwatchable, unbearably unfunny farce.

Potent if hardly evenhanded documentary.