Rene Rodriguez

Hacksaw Ridge may be too syrupy for cynical tastes and too brutal for the timid.

Bitter, brittle, condescending and petty, the titular character of Margot at the Wedding, fabulously played by Nicole Kidman, is a successful short story writer who resents other people's happiness.

Despite its downbeat theme, A Single Man is ultimately optimistic about the human capability to gradually make peace with seemingly insurmountable pain and tragedy.

Milks Carter's story for maximum "inspirational" value, and at times the movie skirts dangerously close to afterschool-special territory.

Despite the efforts of the cast (Byrne and Murphy are particularly good), you rarely feel a thing for any of them, but I don't think you're really supposed to, anyway. The characters in Sunshine tackle thorny ethical questions and debate the sanctity of life on their way to the sun, but the movie is really about the voyage, not the voyagers. Enjoy the sights.

An uncommonly polished and sophisticated superhero movie.

Surprisingly enjoyable.

As for getting close to Wintour -- or even explaining the unfathomable mystery that can be haute couture -- the film comes up empty.

The documentary Mad Hot Ballroom is packed from start to finish with adorable kids doing cute things: Rarely has a movie, fictional or not, had this much awwwww factor.

The combination of youthful irreverence and military indoctrination is jarring.

The Savages is ultimately about two siblings, both around 40, in the midst of learning it's never too late to start embracing life, no matter how rotten a hand you were dealt in the past.

But there are so many beautiful, tender moments in In America -- that it's easy to forgive Sheridan's manipulative ploys.

Grandly entertaining documentary.

As usual, Brooks displays an uncanny knack for mining the universal elements of his characters' situations. Many scenes in the movie ring so familiar, you'd think he had been spying on your visits home. [10 Jan 1997, p.4G]

In Logan, the clawed mutant Wolverine finally gets to slash through the constraints of a kid-friendly PG-13 rating, and the result is bloody, vicious fun. The squeamish will avert their eyes, and young children should not be allowed anywhere near this movie, no matter how many X-Men action figures they own.

Efron makes you believe he’s capable of anything. Neighbors is rude, brazen and merrily offensive, and the movie mines the homoerotic undertones of fraternities to fine (if lowbrow) comic effect. But Efron, of all people, gives the film a curious edge.

Never crosses over into meanness, and even the most satirical character has a moment of empathy.

Through Tautou's performance, Coco Before Chanel reveals the formation of an artist.

Survives its surface annoyances because Lynch's script also has ambition, heart and something to say other than love conquers all.

Essentially, You Don't Mess With the Zohan isn't all that different in tone and sensibility from Sandler's previous films, but he's really trying in this one, and the effort pays off.

Midnight in Paris initially seems like a departure for Allen, but the prevailing theme blends right in with the rest of his canon.

This bruising, harrowing movie would be impossible to sit through without at least a hint of light at the end of its astonishingly dark tunnel.

Might have been unbearable if Linklater hadn't filled it with so much self-deprecating humor, undercutting the pretentiousness whenever it threatens to become too thick.

Some of the creations these chefs produce defy belief (and make you wish you could jump into the screen to have a taste).

Beguilingly odd.

Gets everything right.

Only a very stony heart could resist its pull.

It's a fantastic special effect because it doesn't look like a special effect: The movie sells the illusion that the suit could maybe, possibly, exist.

The more preposterous Out of Time gets, the more enjoyable the movie becomes.

Bold and intrepid film buffs: The gauntlet has been thrown. Here's something you don't see every day - thank goodness.

None-too-subtly implies Murrow could easily be talking about the present day.

Lowery has a lyrical style of storytelling that is delicate and subtle yet suffused with emotion and atmosphere. It’s gentle and pointed at the same time. Ain’t Them Bodies Saints wafts over you like a dream, leaving behind a lovely, melancholy trace that hurts.

The Doom Generation is Araki's boldest -- and best -- movie yet, his most blatantly offensive, his most sexually explicit and by far his bloodiest. [17 Nov 1995, p.6G]

Phillips keeps the movie funny and riotous without glamorizing his characters’ misdeeds. The film is a comedy, but it’s never trivial, and the filmmakers don’t let the government’s participation in what transpired slip by unnoticed.

Director Kevin Macdonald, an accomplished maker of documentaries making his feature-film debut, gives The Last King of Scotland the pace and crackle of a thriller, albeit a thriller with substance.

What a grand and dazzling route Coppola takes.

Duigan instead relies on a light, whimsical touch, with just a dab of fantasy and much beautiful imagery. The result has the feel and texture of a bewitching, richly gratifying dream. [11 March 1994, p.5]

That's what The Sandlot repeatedly does: Confound your expectations. It's a charming and hilarious flick for kids (boys in particular will eat it up) that feels remarkably fresh, even during its occasional foray into cliche land. [7 Apr 1993, p.E1]

Smith's funniest, sharpest and most polished movie to date. It also is his most mature and emotionally engaging picture, even if it happens to contain one of the grossest sight gags I've ever encountered in a mainstream Hollywood film.

Borrowing its title from a mix tape Cobain compiled as a teenager, the film, made with the cooperation of his widow, family and former bandmates, remains compelling and moving no matter how familiar you already are with the singer’s story.

A wonderfully rumpled, loose comedy about the paralyzing fear of failure.

Despite moments of intense suspense and glints of bizarre horror, Tom at the Farm is ultimately a psychological thriller.

What distinguishes Spider-Man from most other comic book movies is that the film is at its most engaging when its hero is out of costume.

It's a breezy, homespun, relaxing thing...watching this laid-back picture feels, oddly enough, like a vacation from movies.

Margin Call doesn't demonize its characters, nor does it absolve them of their sins. The movie simply shows, without judgment or anger, how our economic crisis came to be.

By film's end, Leconte has made you believe these disparate men inhabit the same soul: The chasm between them is a matter of paths not taken.

A mean and exceedingly well-made little B-picture, but the questions it raises are far too complex to answer with a simple gunshot.

Lurking just beneath Water's serene, storybook surface is an unmissable, defiant passion.

Although there are several stretches in the movie in which Seidl seems to be repeating himself, the director is carefully building toward a knock-out final scene in which the inscrutable, often annoying Anna becomes beautifully, poignantly human in front of our eyes, like magic.

Escape from Tomorrow is more of an experimental film than a traditional narrative, but intrepid viewers — or anyone who has ever visited a Disney park — will enjoy getting lost in this dark house of happy horrors.

The most horrific -- and heartbreaking -- scene of any movie thus far this year comes at the climax of The Cove.

What makes the picture sail past its flaws is its earnest understanding of the desperation that drives people to regain control of their lives -- and the profound courage required to attempt it.

By giving the hero's inner plight so many dimensions, Superman Returns brings a richer, grander perspective to a seminal character without changing his essence. It's a profoundly personal take on a universal icon, made by a filmmaker who continues to improve with each movie.

In a simple, direct manner, Gunner Palace reminds you that the thousands of faceless, nameless troops in Iraq are still there after you switch off CNN.

It's all speed, movement and blood -- lots and lots of blood.

Watching this essentially good but misguided kid slide into a hopeless future is both transfixing and heartbreaking.

Scary? Yes, in spots. Gratuitously gory? You bet. But, first and foremost, Zombieland is a comedy.

Don’t expect Hitchcock or De Palma here — Reichardt is much too low-key and modest for such crowd-pleasing pyrotechnics — but one long, sustained shot near the end seems to suggest that people who are convinced they are doing the right thing are capable of great evil.

It's an uncommonly optimistic meditation on death and lament, befitting a filmmaker whose movies (Jerry Maguire, Singles, Say Anything), no matter their subject matter, always double as a celebration of life.

One of the amazing things about Volver is that Almodóvar once again manages to make a preposterous, overloaded plot seem sublime and organic: It's his profound empathy for his characters and their very human dilemmas and flaws that allows him to fling them into all sorts of odd places without ever losing sight of them as people.

The movie doesn't quite achieve the transcendent effect it reaches for, saddled with an ending that fails to live up to our expectations. But the experience of watching Babel is undeniably riveting: Even if the film doesn't really lead anywhere, you still can't take your eyes off it.

As the movie breathlessly cuts back and forth from a boisterous wedding celebration to a high-stakes soccer match, even the grumpy cynics will have been won over.

A big, boisterous action-comedy - a funny, exciting and intentionally goofy summer movie that just happens to arrive in the middle of January.

Has a crackling, almost farcical pace, even though its subject matter could not be more serious or complex.