Ruthe Stein

The problem with this one may be that it just isn't British enough.

A mishmash of a musical. The movie never gels -- despite Kline's nuanced performance, the stars' exquisite period clothes, designed by Armani, and, of course, Porter's great songs.

The humor is all over the place, veering from light to dark and from broad to subtle -- as if an "I Love Lucy" episode had been retooled by Woody Allen.

Columbus' schizoid approach works more often than not.

Often is on the verge of spilling over into melodrama, but that doesn't bother me because life is the same way.

At its warmhearted center, Beauty Shop is a workshop in how to walk around like Oprah with a feeling of confidence and entitlement.

If the formula seems a little tired, it still has more sophistication and pizzazz than most action films.

That the would-be buddies are played by Harrison Ford and Brad Pitt ensures enough star power to keep things moving even during the sluggish early scenes that set up their relationship.

Don't Tell often has the eerie feel of a Hitchcock film -- "Vertigo" in particular -- where you're not always sure if what you're seeing is really happening.

This is familiar territory for writer-director Nancy Meyers, Hollywood's queen of the chick flick. Her latest has charming moments and a hopeful message for despondent singles, but it lacks the emotional resonance of Meyers' "Something's Gotta Give" and the zaniness of "What Women Want."

Black Snake Moan' is a trip to that unfamiliar territory well worth tagging along on.

Worth seeing just to admire how Argentine writer-director Marcos Carnevale avoids so much as a whiff of condescension.

Surprisingly robust.

A wildly erratic, often annoying but never boring endeavor.

This harmless bit of fluff lacks the element of surprise but is not without random charming moments supplied by its incandescent star.

Leaves you feeling buoyed, but you must endure a level of overacting more suitable for the soaps.

Much of that appeal comes from compelling performances by the two main actors.

The movie has a sweetness and innocence that makes it near perfect entertainment for its target audience.

It's amusing in a trashy sort of way.

The Fountain' never comes together. Like the time traveler at its center, it's all over the map.

Visually, the film is a stunner, dotted with psychedelic colors and many shades of red -- one battle is fought with red laser-gun sights -- some looking realistically like blood. When gangsters open fire, their falls are choreographed like a ballet. The problem comes when the cast opens its mouth and Elizabethan dialogue tumbles out.

Sad yet offering glimpses of hope.

Among the many strengths of the sweetly touching Introducing the Dwights, a small gem from Australia unearthed at the Sundance Film Festival, is that Jean never becomes Godzilla.

Like a Christmas present you didn't know you wanted but are delighted to receive.

It's as if a trumped-up biopic of Andy Warhol were to appear titled "Soup.''

The movie is unable to achieve lift-off and transcend the formulaic stuff coming out of Hollywood, despite the perfect casting of Uma Thurman.

A sequel arrives for Valentine's Day with the unwieldy title Step Up 2 the Streets. If it performs as well, watch for "Step Up 3: the Sprained Ankle."

Sweet and deeply moving.