Sara Maria Vizcarrondo

Gripping, offensive and bewildering, Tabloid is a mean-spirited masterpiece.

The laughs are proportionate to the stakes, which are middle-of-the-road.

On the surface Monte Carlo is charming, oddly down-home wish-fulfillment, but it's riddled with unexplored class issues and generic filmmaking.

Formally, everything's in order-it's an attractive film with some ingenious action sequences-but the problems overwhelm the pleasures, leading to the conclusion that this film's trouble is under the hood.

Italian audiences are bound to like it and the broadness of plot and appeal suggests casual fans of foreign film should, too.

Panettiere's performance has the straightforwardness of a jumbo crayon.

David Lowery's St. Nick provides plenty to marvel at.

The beauty of the film and what ultimately makes it more timeless than trenchant, is the way it side-steps the entire issue of Hanna's sex.

This foreign view of the subject is anthropologically useful, however the film's photo animation technique transforms family photos (used extensively to fill in historical plot holes) into something that resembles zombie-resurrection.

The film is a twisty and playful primer that suggests the best thing to do when beset with ugly forces is to publicly laugh them off. What happens in private is your business.

Lovers of Hate would be a family tragedy if the immature antics of the three characters didn't send you ping-ponging from sympathetic chuckles to guffaws of disgust.

Katz, however, is great with gentle moments (his most dear and haunting is the final scene), and he handles the balance of mystery and family drama quite adeptly.

From Prada to Nada might appeal to tweens but word of mouth won't be nearly as strong as Austen's parlor gossip.

It's a wonderfully moving meditation on the capacity of animals to inspire our imaginations and something applicable to educational markets as well as regular documentary audiences.

The Rite might have been more affecting if the performances gave just a hint that its histrionics were more than just that.

The feature directorial debut of Martin Zandvliet, Applause has moments of flourish and moments that reach towards something as pared down as Thea's play.

To say the franchise is coasting along on fumes suggests it once ran on a full tank, which may not even be true for "Meet the Parents," the surprise hit that kicked off this broad comic franchise.

Even the presence of Dan Aykroyd as Yogi and Justin Timberlake as his pint-sized straight man Boo Boo, couldn't save the movie.

Equally nostalgic and fresh-faced, Guy and Madeline on a Park Bench is a bohemian musical that owes as much to Cassavetes "Shadows" as it does the French musicals of the '30s.

A clearly personal effort, Somewhere demonstrates Coppola's featherweight touch with big subjects like identity and human connection.

Ultimately, the film is made for longevity, like all the best Disney titles are. However, it's also a ready-made Broadway show, with numbers, dialogue and even drama-club histrionics all pre-packaged for immediate adaptation to stage.

This rags-to-sequins tale may be schmaltzy in its sincerity, but 'tis the season. Glitter is optional, but certainly encouraged.

A small film about enormous fears.

This oddball tale of life on a snowy mountainside is consistently upbeat and surprising, with action intensity that stays sturdily at "Goonies" level.

The film knows the aesthetic of enlightenment, the filmmakers demonstrate adoration for their subject, but whether or not the film grasps the principle further is very arguable.

In sum, the film is not without its sweetness. Carell's Barry retells the story of his life in dioramas populated completely with costumed, stuffed mice.

It's scary fun and packed with comic bits that skate between sad and absurd like the best of reality TV.