Stephen Farber

This is a slight film, but the jolts do stay with you, and the two stars offer a humanity that many horror movies lack.

As a piece of filmmaking, Chasing Chasing Amy is effectively put together.

It provides some great background on Carville and certainly convinces us that he is one of the most colorful figures on the scene today — and still making noise.

Given the craziness of the concept, it is surprising that several of the scenes work as well as they do.

This film, so fresh and enterprising at many moments, ultimately disappoints.

Berger does a fine job controlling all of these performances, and he also creates a rich atmosphere for the production.

Most of the major events in Reagan’s life are covered, but few of them are recounted in an incisive fashion.

The two superb performances and the tactful hand of a gifted new director ensures that the audience will still be thinking about these people long after the journey ends.

Even acknowledging and regretting the conceptual misjudgments that mar the film, there are moments to enjoy. The conversations between the doctor and the don remain stimulating, and the two central performances add to the electricity.

As a nightmarish suspense drama about everyday life disintegrating, Esmail’s movie is sometimes effective, even while it echoes earlier films like The Road and David Koepp’s underrated 1996 thriller, The Trigger Effect.

Perhaps there are a couple of unnecessary complications on the way to the denouement, but the storytelling is lively and piquant, demonstrating the director’s sense of humor and sharp observational skills.

It is a tribute to Bening’s performance that she keeps us mesmerized by Nyad even at her most stubbornly pigheaded.

It is an engaging and often touching comic drama that builds power as it moves toward its immensely satisfying conclusion.

The horrors of recent decades deserve the thoughtful, impassioned analysis that Moreh provides.

In short, this film leaves us moved and provoked — and impressed with its technical accomplishments — even if it isn’t a perfect distillation of our ongoing national nightmare.

Perhaps inevitably, the film moves toward a deeply poignant conclusion, but there are enough rambunctious and slightly zonked-out moments to provide a vivid, full-blooded portrait.

Nothing would work quite as well without the performance by Pugh. She commands the screen from her very first appearance, and we never have doubts that anyone who tries to interfere with her will be facing a formidable adversary.

Although this true story (even if embellished a bit by the filmmakers) inevitably builds some emotion, it ends up feeling more banal than spiritually exalting.

This is no more than a minor piece of social history, but it wins us over with humor and a pointed touch of melancholy.

There is no question that it is an extremely well-crafted piece of work.

The interviews in the film are perhaps a bit more limited than they might be, with the directors relying on the same people repeatedly. ... [But] the film will help to introduce worldwide audiences to his stirring story.

Cumberbatch and Foy play beautifully together; the chemistry is palpable, and both performers know how to charm audiences without overselling the romance.

The important point is that the charm and poignancy of the original text survive. And Wright’s technical achievements are worth saluting.

Branagh’s most personal film is imperfect, but the emotion that it builds in the final section, as the family plays out a wrenching universal drama of emigration, is searing.

It is far from a perfect film, but it tantalizes, thanks to the strong subject matter and the sharp characterizations and performances.

The best thing about the movie is the way in which it subverts all the clichés of the star-is-born story.

The movie probably runs on a little too long considering the lack of complexity in the script, but it achieves moments of pathos that speak eloquently to our present mood of discord, tempered with a tentative hope of reconciliation.

This film will not resolve the question of whether technological “progress” represents an advance or a decline in civilization, but it certainly will provoke conversations about that issue. And the focus on a real person over a period of years certainly adds pungency to the debate.

Sacks’ personal life was as startling as his professional achievements.

The greatest documentaries cut deeper and more unflinchingly. But if The Way I See It sometimes skims along the surface, the potent images of a truly gifted president in action offer a welcome journey back to a more hopeful era.

The title may sound incendiary, something left over from the Russ Meyer era, but Danny Wolf’s Skin: A History of Nudity in the Movies turns out to be informative and even-handed as well as entertaining.

It’s consistently sharp-edged and even suspenseful.

The film expertly captures the tensions in the Austrian capital on the eve of Hitler’s takeover, and it also manages to be a vibrant coming-of-age story and an intriguing portrayal of Sigmund Freud, expertly portrayed by Bruno Ganz.

This doc is always thoughtful and tightly edited, and it has an emotional impact that not many docs can equal.

Despite the sometimes clumsy exposition, Lyrebird turns out to be an enjoyable melodrama.

Although there is nothing groundbreaking about the story told in Standing Up, a series of small grace notes help to freshen this dissection of lost souls searching for second chances.

Changing the Game is beautifully crafted, with strong visual evocations of the different locales that these young athletes inhabit. The editing is also sharp, so that we rarely feel we are spending too much time with one set of characters.

A rare look into the mind of an assassin, Incitement provokes and disturbs.

It could use some sharper editing, but it’s an engaging portrait of a flamboyant character.

Although the movie acknowledges the economic threats to many Americans, it succeeds best not as a social drama but as a rich character piece, emblazoned by Allen, who relishes her rare leading role.

This potent work about stolen childhood deserves attention because of the freshness of the cast and because it confirms that Gavron is a director to watch.

Anchored by two outstanding performances from Anthony Hopkins and Jonathan Pryce, the film is a triumph of writing as well as unostentatious filmmaking.

Judy is three-quarters of a good movie that would have been even better if it trusted the urgency of the last act of Garland’s life — and the brilliance of Zellweger’s performance.

Hodge’s performance is what keeps Brian Banks on track. He is powerful in scenes of anger, but he may be even better in purely silent moments where his unspoken reactions are eloquent.

A rich reminiscence of a gifted actor who died far too young.

An impressive film ... Alternately disturbing and inspiring, it manages to capture the diversity of America in a tight 73 minutes.

Herzog’s film may not be the final word on Gorbachev, but it is affectionate and candid and leaves audiences in a melancholy mood about the sometimes short-lived nature of reform.

Both Metz and Lucas are solid enough, but their fairly stock characters do not emerge quite as vividly as they might have. On the other hand, Topher Grace is extremely engaging as the hip, rap music-loving pastor who initially rubs Joyce the wrong way but eventually wins her over in a plot development that is not exactly brimming with surprise.

Aside from the provocative premise, The Wall of Mexico has a few other points to recommend it, though it can’t be considered a complete success. Directors Magdalena Zyzak and Zachary Cotler, working from a screenplay by Cotler, have made some miscalculations that undermine what could have been a powerful exposé of present-day xenophobia.

South Mountain transcends the limitations of some nakedly personal films to offer an affecting vision of frayed family ties.

It is Monaghan who keeps the movie on track, capturing Judy’s fire along with her sometimes aggravating tenacity. This honest actress is incapable of idealizing the characters she plays, and her modest, energetic performance makes Saint Judy — which might have been a dry textbook lesson — engaging and moving.

A fascinating if ultimately failed exercise in histrionics and social commentary.

The filmmakers never underline the emotions they want to evoke, and yet by the end, audiences may be moved to tears by this tale of fractured lives that find just the right measure of repair.

The film is heartfelt and often powerful, but sometimes too sluggish to carry maximum impact.

The film has significant problems in the writing and direction, but the first challenge lies in the casting.

Tapping cleverly into one of the newest perils in urban living, Ride will please most audiences looking for a Friday-night thrill ride.

The film benefits from the fine cast and from many sharp and poignant moments. It's an impressive achievement technically as well.

Stern's melancholy on election night in 2016 is genuinely affecting, but despite some incisive footage en route to the depressing conclusion, the film ultimately leaves us feeling that the director has become a little too close to his subjects to probe as deeply as our national chaos requires

The film would not have the same impact without the commanding lead performance. Thanks to Ramos’s affecting work, Fistful of Dirt sticks in the memory.

Despite impressive performances by Matthew McConaughey and newcomer Richie Merritt, the film fails to engage or enlighten.

McCarthy’s performance, which is paired with an equally rewarding turn by British actor Richard E. Grant, anchors this bizarre, compelling true story.

It deserves praise not as a polemic but as a richly humanistic, emotionally searing drama that sticks in the memory.

The film never quite clarifies its own attitude toward Hart. It simply doesn’t spend enough time with him to allow the audience to decide whether he was a truly transformative politician undone by tabloid reporters or just another slick operator. This robs the film of a tragic dimension that it might have achieved.

The main virtue of the film lies in the thoughtful interviews given by the Israeli and Palestinian negotiators, both the accompanying voiceover commentaries and their later on-camera appearances.

Beyond celebrating the music, 40 Years in the Making: The Magic Music Movie has something to say about the compromises and reconciliations that are a part of aging, and it turns out to make for a stirring and healing reunion.

Vreeland’s willingness to include painful as well as flattering details is what gives Love, Cecil its punch.

The film fails to provide many practical solutions to the problems it identifies. Still, it’s an effective piece of agitprop suffused with sadness over the decline of a rich part of the American heritage.

The resolution seems honest and mature, and a brief epilogue is so powerful that it makes us forget some of the film’s earlier lapses. The emotionally devastating last line socks the whole movie home.

The film is overlong and wildly uneven (just as it was two years ago), but it benefits from a strong cast making the most of some sharp moments exposing the underside of male privilege and domination.

It is a pleasure to watch the present-day Francis interact with people all over the world and articulate his hopes for improving the lot of the poor. The film is humane and unobjectionable, but in the end, it isn’t pointed enough to seize the attention of skeptics in the audience.

Set in Rhode Island, the film focuses on three boys who have had a parent in prison (one of those parents is a mother), and it probes the impact on the children with clarity and poignancy.

The doc—which is sure to stir conversation as well as emotion when it screens at other festivals—will open audience’s eyes to larger problems of child abuse and exploitation that pervade too many countries around the globe.

The film honors the hard-working, often unacknowledged craftsmen in the film industry and stirs provocative questions about the fine line between legitimate devotion to an artist and dangerous hero worship.

Beyond the film’s technical expertise and the political issues that it raises, it works best simply as a tribute to a group of talented and courageous women who missed out on opportunities that might have benefited us all.

Little Pink House brings urgency to a fascinating, underexplored theme.

Despite many script problems, Levine has kept the film tightly coiled and engrossing throughout.

The film is very well designed by directors Rohrbaugh and Powell, the musical interludes really sing and the actors make for scintillating company.

The film evolves into an unconventional road movie that turns out to be quietly affecting.

No doubt everyone can relate to the central idea of wondering about the purpose of the mementos we leave behind or those we discover after a death in the family. But a promising theme does not necessarily make for a satisfying movie.

The film is ingratiating enough, but its main value is to make us eager for another, more substantial Shelton movie long before another decade has slipped by.

The result is fascinating, often moving, if also incomplete.

Charged never simplifies Eduardo’s nature or the key relationships in his life. We end up appreciating his charisma and marveling at his resilience without ever seeing him as a paragon.

What the film doesn’t have is the visceral impact that would take it from a well-intentioned treatise to a searing work of art.

Nichol has created a loving valentine to all the iconoclasts who resist what the rest of the world defines as progress.

Shot Caller may cover little new ground but navigates familiar terrain with considerable skill.

Dorfman declares that she was never a media or critics’ darling. “I was at the bottom of the list,” she says when talking about her position in the ranks of modern photography. This film will convince you that she definitely deserves a higher position in the pantheon.

Beyond its message, however, and despite some unfortunate omissions in the history it recounts, the film succeeds as one of the most gripping and suspenseful docs of recent years.

Handsomely mounted and well acted, the film breaks no new ground but remains engrossing.

There is no simple answer to the questions this film poses, but it makes us think about the complexities of an issue that has been muddied by tough-on-crime politicians.

This film about family dysfunction and ethical crises never reaches a fully satisfying conclusion.

Everybody may lack depth, but it often compensates with raucous humor.

Ethnic comedies have their limitations, and a sharper script would have helped this one to stand out from the pack. Nevertheless, audiences in a forgiving mood will enjoy the byplay among an appealing bunch of desperate characters.

The subject is a rich one, but the film simply isn’t incisive enough.

The acting in the film is outstanding down to some of the smallest parts, and here director Taylor Hackford (who hasn’t had a major hit in several years) deserves considerable credit for guiding these performers.

What is admirable about Ivory Game is that it recognizes the complexity of the issues.

It might be sacrilege to suggest that Herzog could use a more strong-willed collaborator, but this film sometimes turns into a rather misshapen cinematic essay. Nevertheless, you won’t be sorry to witness the apocalyptic images of nature blazing and roaring.

The film works as a moving anti-war essay and as a gripping thriller.

Cooper seizes control of the movie when he’s onscreen, but the two young leads are also enormously appealing.

Stone’s direction is measured, methodical, and totally lacking in the fire and flamboyance that sometimes electrified and sometimes ruined his earlier films. The story moves along without any real sense of urgency or suspense.

Caruso’s direction is slick and fluid enough, and gifted cinematographer Rogier Stoffers (Quills, School of Rock) makes the most of the house’s dark, eerie corners. But the performances are highly variable. Beckinsale delivers the goods, but Mel Raido as her impatient husband David never generates much sympathy.

The picture doesn’t fully succeed, but it showcases strong performances.

The bittersweet conclusion does stir some feeling, but the impact comes a little too late to save the whole of the film.

The film probes the experience of grief in a subjective, intuitive manner, and it achieves remarkable intensity in exploring this theme.

Ferguson certainly has some strong, even encouraging points to make. And he has brought impressive filmmaking skills to his cinematic essay. Still, one wishes that he had presented his thesis with a little more energy and a little less didacticism.

Director Michael Damian does not bring any special spark to the film, but he recognizes the talents of his cast and allows them to shine.

The aim is admirable, the execution somewhat less so. The film makes a few too many missteps, but it does deserve credit for re-opening debate on an issue that merits serious scrutiny.

Mapplethorpe comes across as remarkably candid and unassuming, though his ambition was always clear.

Shannon’s performance is the main attraction of this dark character drama, but it also boasts a seductive atmosphere and some penetrating insights into the male psyche.

Jim ultimately raises more questions than it can answer, so it cannot be considered a completely satisfying documentary. Nevertheless, it builds undeniable emotional force as it reaches its somber conclusion.

Despite the predictable touches in the script by Mark O’Halloran, director Paddy Breathnach reveals a sensitive touch with the material.

The seemingly autobiographical film from writer/director/star Philipp Karner may have been therapeutic for him, but it is too opaque and slow-moving to compel the attention of many audiences beyond the gay festival circuit.

This film is vital in uncovering a hazard that was kept hidden for far too long. At last the secret is out, and Landesman and his fine cast will help to keep the conversation going.

It’s always entertaining to tag along with these attractive actors on their photogenic journey.

Although the film might have benefited from a deeper investigation of the background to the conflict between Russia and Ukraine, the vivid scenes of protest in the capital city of Kiev supply undeniable power.

One wonders if A Brave Heart might have been more effective as a short film than as a feature. The characters and the story compel our attention, but the film runs out of steam before the end.

Given the vacuity of the script, it must be admitted that Hathaway achieves something of a triumph. She’s always engaging and keeps the character on a human rather than superhuman scale.

He Named Me Malala retells that story in a deft and affecting way. Director Davis Guggenheim, who made the Oscar-winning An Inconvenient Truth and the controversial Waiting for Superman, does some of his most heartfelt work in this tribute to Malala and her entire family.

The surprise of Suffragette is how much anger and urgency it contains, and how much new material it unearths.

After a while, you give up trying to make sense of the plot and sit there gaping at the car crashes, fight scenes, and shootings. The problem is that even the mayhem quickly becomes repetitive.

The filmmakers’ unsubtle style is responsible for killing many of the jokes. But they do succeed with several of the performers.

Any film that tries to revive this technique needs a clever story or unusual filmmaking ingenuity to stand out from the crowd. The Gallows has neither. It has enough mild scares to captivate the under-25 crowd.

The intriguing story degenerates into a flat-out action movie with car chases and violent shootouts that are competently filmed by Singh but seem to come from a far more conventional film.

Despite these lapses and a padded running time, this film does burst with fascinating inside lore.

The narration is overused, but at least Fey makes an engaging hostess.

What makes it intermittently palatable even to non-believers is that it acknowledges some of the darker truths of the era.

The film turns out to be highly effective, thanks to the skills of the actors and director Zaza Urushadze.

Throughout the film Moss traverses an astonishing range of emotions, from bliss to complete mental disintegration. She is fascinating to watch even when the film turns into a frustrating head-scratcher.

Hawke’s film is very well crafted, tightly edited and elegantly photographed. The acute musical selections only add to our appreciation of Seymour’s selfless devotion to his art.

Screenwriter Adam Chanzit and director Gabriel Cowan don’t have the same flair for eloquent dialogue or vivid character creation. Instead they offer a lot of turgid exchanges filled with regret and recrimination.

While the beats of the story are often stock, the picture benefits from sensitive direction by New Zealander Niki Caro (Whale Rider, North Country) and from a most appealing performance by Kevin Costner.

We expect these stories to intersect, but instead they are completely self-contained narratives that rarely reach a potent dramatic conclusion. More irritating is Ostlund's shooting style, which consists of very long takes from an unmoving camera, often from the backs of the heads of important characters.

No movie with such a limp ending can be fully satisfying, and the beginning also falters. But the long middle section is a rousing good show.

There isn’t a tremendous amount of new information in this generally well-crafted documentary. But it makes a potent, urgent case against the merchants of doubt who play games with the planet’s future.

Intelligently written, vividly shot, tightly edited, sharply acted, the film represents a rare example of craftsmanship working to produce a deeply moving piece of history.

Two excellent performances bolster a thoughtful script, and the result is that the discomfort we feel seems perfectly controlled by the filmmakers. The movie is candid and disturbing but never exploitative.

Fortunately, the two stars always brighten the proceedings.

Skillfully edited and energetically paced, Smiling Through provides a memorable time capsule for those who miss the smart magazines that will never return.

Honeymoon is a microbudgeted horror movie that achieves some genuinely shivery moments.

This small gem offers a lovely evocation of Spain as well as a touching tribute to an unforgettable moment in time when the Beatles seemed to offer brand new possibilities, the idea that strawberry fields might indeed go on forever.

Vallee’s latest offering is alternately harrowing and heartbreaking, but laced with saving bursts of humor.

It’s too blandly acted and directed to make much of an impact.

Fails to rise above the inherent sordidness of the subject matter. It’s indifferently acted and directed, though it generates a measure of suspense and queasy fascination.

It’s a pretty trying movie to watch, though it does have some striking images.

The script by John Swetnam is rudimentary, with only the most minimal and pallid stabs at characterization... Nevertheless, once the funnel clouds begin swirling, Quale and his special effects team achieve some remarkably authentic and frightening moments.

While the movie’s theme is familiar, even a little stale, the vivid details help to freshen the story, and the actors sock the movie home.

It may sound like a backhanded compliment to praise this sometimes cheesy movie for never taking itself too seriously, but in a summer of bloated spectacles, this modesty should not be underestimated.

No one who sees the film will feel it breaks any new ground, but as a cinematic equivalent of comfort food, it goes down easily.

Here is one more dubious piece of agitprop that will delight the author’s fans and have very little impact on his opponents.

Almost all of the performances achieve perfect pitch. This is a tribute to Lundgren’s direction, and he also makes excellent use of the serene Oregon locations.

Wallace made a lot of shrewd decisions to sock this movie home, but he can’t entirely overcome the dramatic thinness of the original material.

The film has entertaining moments, but these are clearly secondary to its proselytizing intentions.

None of the other economic gurus of the era is interviewed, so the film comes across as a 90-minute monologue, which is intriguing to a point but also wearying.

Sparkling dialogue would count for little without two actors to deliver it expertly. Garcia (who is also one of the producers of the film) is generally cast in more serious roles, but he revealed a gift for comedy in "City Island" a few years ago, and he revisits that terrain rewardingly here. Farmiga is marvelous.

Pray does not browbeat viewers into applauding the artist’s achievement. The filmmaker thoughtfully documents a phenomenon and allows the arguments to continue to rage after the lights come on.

This holiday extravaganza with an all-star cast has a lot of failings. But it seems likely to tap into the audience’s enthusiasm for uplifting entertainment.

All of the cast members deliver smooth, capable performances, but this sequel clarifies why Howard has become the biggest star from the original ensemble. (He also gave one of the strongest performances in Lee Daniels’ The Butler this past summer.)

You may come away more impressed by the intentions than by the achievements.

Some of the film’s acerbic touches are welcome, but Snitch doesn’t offer nearly enough fresh variations on the Scarface formula.

This intense, painful movie lingers in the memory.

Engrossing, quietly revelatory, and often profoundly moving as it retells a story we only thought we knew.

Their inside jape is unfortunately not as much fun for the audience as it may have been for the filmmakers, though it does have its piquant moments. But it’s not consistently entertaining enough either as a spoof or as a thriller.

Although it is overlong, it manages to be fascinating for much of its running time. But it also disappoints on many counts, providing another example of hype outpacing actual achievement -- a syndrome that Salinger himself would probably have deplored.

Prisoners can at times be a hard film to watch, but thanks to all the talent involved, it’s even harder to shake off.

A couple of scenes toward the end do generate the suspense that the whole movie needed. But the impact is too muted, and an air of tired familiarity ultimately curdles the entire enterprise.

Evans directs energetically, and the personable actors help to keep us involved, but the picture skims stubbornly along the surface.

The filmmakers may have hoped to make a timely commentary on the amorality in our executive suites, but they end up merely restating the obvious. Maybe the whole thing would have played better as a corporate comedy, the kind that Doris Day and Rock Hudson made some 50 years ago.

The basic story has been told many times before, but it’s intriguingly retold by screenwriter Philip Gelatt and director Sebastian Cordero in this low-budget, bare-bones rendering of a familiar theme.

The actors do what they can to supply the texture missing from the script. Vaughn and Wilson riff together with pleasing professionalism.

Young viewers looking for unbridled raunch will be sadly disappointed, and so will other moviegoers expecting more than a few wan chuckles. This picture is like a brightly colored balloon with all the comic air seeping out.

Although the subject matter is inherently disturbing, it’s hard to imagine any audience remaining unmoved by this mournful tale.

Despite the solid work of cast and crew, the film dawdles and fails to justify its two-and-a-half-hour running time. Midnight reaches its tender conclusion without ever achieving the emotional or dramatic heft that such an epic tale requires.

This material would never have attracted a major studio, so Christy Walton — heir to the Wal-Mart fortune — financed the picture herself, not because of any desire to become a movie mogul but simply because of her passion for the novel. She allowed the filmmakers to work without major stars or obvious commercial hooks added to the story. Although the film doesn’t always sustain dramatic impact, its fidelity to the spirit of the novel is impressive.

The picture has enough entertainment value to tickle its target audience and even offers a few chuckles for accompanying adults. A strong cast and bright -- if uninspired — animation help to offset a thin story.

A thriller element that has not been present in earlier Sparks movies is designed to draw reluctant male viewers to see the picture, but they won’t respond with the same enthusiasm as his core audience of woozy romantics.

The film is smart enough not to wear out its welcome. But that's the only sign of true intelligence in this juvenile caper.

The picture is far from great, but it's a serviceable B-movie with some A-list talent on a slumming expedition.

This is a good premise for a comedy, but somewhere along the way, it got diluted and turned into a sappy, feel-good story of family togetherness.

No one doubts that the country faces major challenges in the next four years, but there is one safe bet: The future is unlikely to be affected by this simplistic documentary.

The fascinating human portrait that emerges should draw appreciative if limited audiences.

It's a pleasure to surrender to the movie's lush visuals, which are accompanied by wonderful jazz classics performed by Valdes, Estrella Morente, and Freddy Cole (Nat King Cole's brother), among many others.

Dori Berinstein's tender but sharp portrait finds a lot of depths in the woman whom many see as a camp figure.

Palmer keeps his focus tightly on the families, which makes the movie admirably unpretentious but also incomplete. Nevertheless, the picture has a vibrant central character in James McDonagh, the leading fighter in the clan who begins to question the rites of violence.

Although the film recounts an intriguing slice of social history, it is too haphazard and repetitive to be truly memorable.

The first-rate cast cannot be faulted. Chandor has assembled an extraordinary ensemble.

Nine Muses is clearly the work of a talented filmmaker, and there are many moments to beguile the ears as well as the eyes. Yet it's a long slog through a few thousand years of myth and history, and most viewers are likely to grow impatient during the journey.

The film tracks the history of the country, but viewers may feel the documentarian inserts herself too much into the story.

Director David Weissman brings a rewardingly fresh and personal perspective to the subject.

Morris clearly invested so much time and energy in McKinney's story because he saw her as emblematic of our crazed times. Others might wonder whether the sad saga deserves quite this much attention, but there's no denying the film's morbid fascination.

Although the film runs more than two hours, the story is so compelling and the production so beautifully controlled that we are gripped by the characters' quest right up to the shocking end of the story.

This fascinating documentary about famed photographer Bill Cunningham features interviews with Vogue editor Anna Wintour, author Tom Wolfe and New York Times publisher Arthur Sulzberger Jr.

While the concept may sound schematic, it is brought to vivid life by wonderful characterizations.

Beyond its visual splendors, however, the film achieves searing moral power.

All of the key creative personnel contribute to the movie's nail-biting tension and unexpectedly moving finale. Jon Harris's editing is matchless, and Rahman's score effectively heightens the emotion. Ultimately, however, it is the talents of Boyle and Franco that sock this movie home.

Bolstered by a career-best performance from Mickey Rourke and outstanding work by Marisa Tomei and Evan Rachel Wood.

The two central performances could hardly be better.

While the film is too convoluted to stir boxoffice excitement, it offers some rewards for sophisticated moviegoers

There is no denying the emotional force that this film develops, and for that, we can credit talented filmmakers and two stars working at the height of their powers.

Expertly acted, impeccably photographed, intelligently written, even intermittently touching, the film is also too parched and ponderous to connect with a large audience.

The stunt work is amazing, and the pace is breathless enough to keep one watching right up to the somewhat ambiguous conclusion.

Perhaps the best way to appreciate the picture, its few intellectual pretensions notwithstanding, is as a classy horror film with a particularly nasty edge. It's not exactly entertainment, but it casts a poisonous spell.

This picture sometimes rivals "Avatar" in its spectacular landscapes and thrilling flying sequences, but of course it won't come anywhere near those megagrosses, and it's too scary to be wholeheartedly embraced by children.