Robert K. Elder

An exciting World War II romantic triangle drama about a young woman (Tatyana Samoilova) caught in war's turmoil, "Cranes" was hailed by 1950s U.S. critics for its humanism. But what burns this movie into memory is its stunning visual style: the rich, mobile camerawork of Kalatozov and genius cinematographer Sergei Uresevsky. [22 Feb 2008, p.C2]

It lays the groundwork for such collaborations by suggesting that all forms of music must come full circle before evolving into something new.

Commits the cardinal sin of all bad IMAX films: It favors visuals over narrative, glitter over substance.

It makes you sweat, laugh, squirm and self explore like few films -- fictional or documentary -- can.

Against the rest of his dramatically flimsy crew, Snipes' sunglasses-at-midnight strut conveys an almost lifelike sheen. Almost. He's more alive than the movie, which is dead on arrival.

Oscillates between pragmatist genius and B-movie mediocrity.

Splashes its drama all over the screen, subjecting its audience and characters to action that feels not only manufactured, but also so false you can see the filmmakers' puppet strings.

A confusing and not entirely believable ending clouds the issue, though, burying some fine performances and cinematography under an avalanche of gore and plot twists.

Farmanara, a gifted director, seems to be getting his artistic legs again, but he spends far too much time following his protagonist in and out of buildings as he smokes cigarettes and otherwise mopes about.

Has the literary richness, depth of character and tone that such a morally difficult, powerful narrative requires.

Twohy pulls all the strings to create an inventive genre piece.

Despite an abrupt ending, Mana gives us compelling, damaged characters who we want to help -- or hurt. Perhaps most important, El Bola forces us examine our personal motivations for each impulse and their consequences.

It's one thing for a script to set the framework for an action film -- it's quite another when the script gets in the way.

Marisa Tomei turns in a blitzkrieg performance.

If you can simply get lost in the crushing splendor of the waves themselves, the script might not leave you so seasick.

The director's lack of restraint and overabundance of ambition makes "Altar Boys" not boring, but troubled.

While Nico and Dani presents itself as a no-frills coming-of-age tale, its soundtrack seems lifted from a teen comedy like "American Pie."

Starts out slowly, unfolding a family history through the poetic use of black-and-white photographs -- blending the figures of Rana's ancestors into the frame as if they still watched the family.

Succeeds as a guilty pleasure, a monster mash that clobbers the recent lackluster sequels plaguing both legacies. If only that were a higher compliment.

First-time director Paul Hunter delivers a quick-cut, loud movie that betrays his MTV roots -- but then again, the script never demands that he do much more than exactly that.

Presented with such confidence, such care, that we love all of the characters, even if we don't like them.

Unfortunately, the home-run performances of Cube and Epps are handicapped by inept and illogical action sequences.

Hits more laughs than it misses and its characters are likable, empathetic people.

So well crafted, so original, that each overlapping scene swells with new life and interpretation.

Like too many sports-related movies, this one falls back on that One Big Game, the final score that will set everything right.

In the tradition of indie films "Girlfight" and "George Washington," Sollett's emotive, sub-improvising style leads to pitch-perfect performances from a watertight cast in a loose, joyfully fresh film.

Confidently directed and tightly constructed, Carnage announces the presence of a fresh, powerful directorial mind with each frame.

Plagued by continuity problems, ham-fisted storytelling and a problematic voiceover by Da Brat, Civil Brand feels less like a prison movie than a prison sentence.

A magic-meets-macho cop movie that's more gimmick than actual movie.

An emotionally honest character piece that avoids moralizing or offering soggy excuses.

After clawing their way into the Olympics, so-called extreme sports deserve respect, but this is no way to get it.

Limps along on a squirm-inducing fish-out-of-water formula that goes nowhere and goes there very, very slowly.

Muddles through as a film so uninterested in character, it doesn't bother assigning names to them.

Combining cutting-edge computer animation with traditional two-dimensional characters, Treasure Planet pops off the screen, reviving Stevenson's adventure with surprising accuracy.

Although bright, well-acted and thought-provoking, Tuck Everlasting suffers from a laconic pace and a lack of traditional action.

Sonnenfeld mishandles the broad part of the comedic formula, preferring repetition to thematic development.

Gets under your skin with laughs that are fast, slick and slippery and with visuals as vivid as anything this side of Demerol.

Slow and dragging, Pootie Tang is worse than a below-average sketch-to-screen Saturday Night Live film.

While sci-fi conceits still permeate the plot (alien DNA, rogue scientists), attention to personal detail float world-weary, superbly-drawn protagonists in a rare movie-a character-driven animated film.

Think of the Slocumbs as distant relatives of "The Royal Tenenbaums," only more dysfunctional and far from attractively "quirky."

While Reyes seeks his own ambitious style, he can't quite step out from under De Palma's shadow and thematic choices. Everything from the voiceover narration to the final frame in Empire looks and feels like a low-budget hybrid of "Scarface" or "Carlito's Way."

Suit #3: But what will we call the sequel? Suit #1: "XXXX"? Suit #2: Brilliant!

This is a rare gem tripped over while making a run-of-the-mill rockumentary about a band's new album.

Not only does American Outlaws distort history, but the filmmakers have created a dull, one-dimensional pop icon out of James' complex character and legend.

Resonates and inspires rapid-fire bouts of laughter, perhaps even a few giggles from the author himself, whom posterity has rewarded the last laugh.

Worth your time and money? Fuhgeddaboutit.

One of the few video game movies to truly re-create the gaming experience -- from the three-dimensional maps to the structure of encountering increasingly grisly and dangerous foes at higher levels of play.

Jason X conjures up more giggles than scares, assuming you make it through the first 15 minutes.

If "American Beauty" were a bland comedy, it would be Joe Somebody.

As scary and minor-chord heavy as FearDotCom can be, there's no big payoff, no logical resolution.

The best of Brooks' movie parodies: a high-style sendup of Universal's James Whale-directed Boris Karloff "Frankenstein" movies. [26 Oct 2007, p.C3]

Like Ice Cube's "Friday," How High probably will survive as an underground classic, until it's pushed further underground and forgotten by the next disposable "cult classic" to hit video.

Offers the most onscreen explosions in recent memory. It's almost pornography for arsonists.

Plays so flat, so to close its "movie message" formula, that it seems as if we've seen this movie before.

At the end of 83 unmerciful minutes, audiences will be exclaiming, "Dude, I can't believe I sat through that movie!?" Stick to the trailer.

Ends up a few frames short of the perfect horror film, but very few.

A noir masterpiece with Oscar-caliber performances, Sexy Beast slowly turns up the heat until we squirm.

With Clockstoppers, Frakes hobbles along with a high-concept film that doesn't live up to its potential.

A train wreck you can't help but watch.

Kwietniowski turns up the tension so incrementally, we don't realize the scope of Mahowny's moral wreck until it is too late.

Writer-director Peter Sehr displays obvious directing talent, especially in his use of nonlinear love scenes. He shows the coupling, the approach and release all at once, out of order, mixing the entire seduction ritual into one fluid montage.

Black delivers the best line (“Do you want me to get naked and start the revolution?”), and Lithgow scores a giggle for calling his ex-wife “coyote ugly” to her face, but neither of them can disguise this lemon.

Unlike the intrigue and winding switchback of moral mysteries that defined "L.A. Confidential," Dark Blue travels on flat, predictable terrain.

Leaves us puzzled as to why the term "damned" applies at all, when vampirism is depicted as so cool, fashion-savvy and glamorous.

Call it a weepy for the gay community:The Trip is an oddly marketed, oddly titled romance. Yes, there is a trip, but it takes place during the last 15 minutes of the film and seems almost tangential.

Hotel might be best described as the art-house version of "Cannonball Run."

Sacrificing content for style, Caruso gives us a lot to look at but little to ponder.

Good performances in bad movies are nothing new, but it's sad that Moore's first major cinematic outing scrapes the bottom of the melodramatic barrel.

Neither drama nor comedy, Summer Catch is a long, slow lob of a movie that never crosses the plate.

Bette Davis gave one of her best and nastiest performances in Wyler's stylishly sordid 1940 romantic murder-mystery from W. Somerset Maugham's story. [02 May 2008, p.C5]

McGrath's version of Nicholas Nickleby cashes in on age-old show biz wisdom of "always leave 'em wanting more." It's a pity we're only allowed such a small nibble of one of Dickens' richest works.

What makes XX/XY so engaging; it attempts to define love through broken characters who know neither themselves nor the meaning of love.

It's an event film, all about flash and spectacle, even though the movie itself is void of any real substance.

Replete with audience-insulting writing and blatantly hateful jokes, storytelling like this makes most video game plots look like "Moby Dick."

When Serving Sara reaches beyond its grasp and dreams big, Perry and Hurley float the movie on aplomb and wit. When the film gears down for slower-paced set pieces and disposable villains, its stars find themselves knee-deep in a giant comedy cow pie.

This otherwise predictable romantic comedy does have several genuinely funny scenes, thanks to Monica Potter's comic delivery and charm.

This sequel succeeds as a slightly convoluted, paint-by-the-numbers buddy/action comedy with fast, funny banter and well-choreographed fight scenes.

Plays like an amateur debut effort written over a weekend during which its writer wasn't entirely sober.

McKee, like Amenabar, knows how to position his film against type -- which ultimately makes May a refreshing, macabre tale.

Faces the same problem of all sex-themed films, in that cinematic sex is often unsexy.

Knows when to take itself seriously and when to laugh at itself -- even if its audience isn't laughing along at every gag.

Scary Movie 2 had seven writers. Seven. That's one writer for every big laugh in its stealthy 82 minutes. More frightening: these jokes are worth waiting for.

This low-budget comedy will most likely try the patience of a paying audience with its uneven pacing, wavering tone and poor production quality.

Characters are so well-drawn, so human - that even in the harsh light of history - it remains difficult to understand how Australia allowed such inhumanity to become institutional, mechanized and accepted.

Dry and irreverent, Jump Tomorrow plays like a Hal Hartley ("Henry Fool") comedy with a lighter tone and more laughs.

It can't help but fall prey itself to a final deadly genre cliché: Its soundtrack outsparkles the movie.

As wide and deep as the directors fish for anecdotes, it's surprising that there isn't more focus, more context.

Were it not for young star Amanda Bynes' energetic good nature in the face of drab dialogue and wooden stereotypes, What a Girl Wants might have been a career-ending movie violation rather than just an embarrassing fender-bender.

Whatever the final message of The Housekeeper, its love story engages both the heart and the head.

This sophomoric little gimmick picture -- although at times, serving as no more than a showcase for daredevil snowboarding -- provides enough powder power to keep the audience laughing, even over the rocky parts.

An old-fashioned comedy. And in this case, "old-fashioned" means tired, out of date and so abominably blah that you'll fall asleep in your popcorn.

Captures a breathtaking exotic landscape cluttered only by the smugness of its characters.

Separate interviews with Flansburgh and Linnell inject the most life and gentle conflict into the film, peeling back their unique musical marriage and friendship.

While Tattoo borrows heavily from both "Seven" and "The Silence of the Lambs," it manages to maintain both a level of sophisticated intrigue and human-scale characters that suck the audience in.

The title of Robb Moss' documentary, The Same River Twice, draws directly from Greek philosopher Heraclitus' claim that "It is impossible to step in the same river twice."

Perhaps Figgis proves his unconventionality with Cold Creek Manor after all, creating a thriller without resorting to the genre's usual bag of tricks.

Breaks through as a delightful, surprisingly fresh comedy.

Has one other thing in common with "The Matrix Reloaded" -- too much story, too many angles.