Rick Kisonak

The chief triumph here, it seems to me though, is one of style over substance. The disaffected kids who shuffle through its universe have nothing to say, nothing to tell us. I’m not sure the movie has a whole lot more.

It's such a dumb movie, it's hard to believe it wasn't an SNL sketch first.

The truth is About Schmidt offers only the sporadic laugh, the less frequent original cultural insight and, at best, a craftsmanlike performance from its aging headliner. The truth is there are long stretches in the picture that are unequivocally dull.

Full speed ahead fun, a rollicking caper romp that hearkens back to a quainter, pre-Ken Lay age when bigtime fraud could actually entail writing books as opposed to merely cooking them.

At once an astonishing feat of advocacy filmmaking and a white knuckle eco-thriller; think Michael Moore meets Michael Mann.

The two actors (Hanks/Seymour Hoffman) have terrific chemistry and riff off one another like partners in a veteran comedy team.

This is a movie that should have a medical warning in its trailer. Caution: viewing may be hazardous to your filmgoing fun; side effects can include drowsiness, irritation and difficulty swallowing.

The film also benefits from unusually solid writing and a masterfully understated turn by Billy Bob Thornton.

Breathtakingly inventive story.

Sublimely directed, scored, shot and performed, the picture misses greatness by a nose as a result of shortcomings in its script.

The odyssey that follows reminded me of the one Bill Murray’s character took in "Broken Flowers" - and I mean that in the most complimentary way.

May just be the most quintessential Steven Spielberg movie Steven Spielberg never made.

Spoof or tongue in cheek update, the movie squanders the lion's share of its time on tired, cartoon-quality sequences choreographed around ho-hum chases and explosions. None possess the satiric zip of Austin Powers-style parody.

We aren't talking Oscar here. We're talking truly fine performances and an unexpectedly hep John Williams score. We are talking a story that rollicks with the most rollicking of them. Not great cinema; just a great time at the movies and certainly a film well worth catching if you can.

The movie crosses the line between offering mindless entertainment and insulting our intelligence.

A fine cast, understated treatment and tantalizing premise make for a movie well worth seeing even if you don't come away believing.

Down With Love has little to offer besides hip sixties references better films have already made and made infinitely more hip.

Radio is a film many people may be tempted to laugh off as button pushing feel-good fluff. Before doing so, they might want to ask themselves just what it is they find so funny about a little peace, love and understanding.

An achievement of this magnitude is a stunning and extremely pleasant surprise.

You aren't likely to see a film with more warmth and good humor anytime soon or one that does more to give feel good filmmaking a good name.

The film is a wonder and a joy to watch on any number of levels.

Each and every one of the movie's 125 minutes is a moment of searing truth.

While the massacre is a wall-shaking and effective bit of high decibel drama, some of the movie's best moments come during the Texans' long brave wait for almost certain death.

This is a decidedly hit or miss deal which, despite the current outpouring of critical praise, is destined to rank among the Coen's least memorable achievements.

Easily the most disappointing movie of the summer, Extract is more significantly the biggest letdown of its esteemed creator’s career.

By the way, good luck making sense out of the final fifteen minutes. I'd say people were asleep at the wheel on this one but the film is so pointlessly all over the place that I'm not sure there even was one.

Identity steams my broccoli big time and not just because its surprise twist is an insult to the intelligence of every audience member.

By and large, reviewers have conceded that the picture is exceptionally gripping and suspenseful while deriding its moral subtext as a crock. The only explanation possible for such fuming pettiness, in my opinion, is the fact that Michael Haneke isn’t one of us.