V.A. Musetto

Despite its stomach-turning images (and maybe because of), it is a daring, provocative work by a talented helmer who gets off pushing the envelope. He should be supported, no matter how outlandish he gets.

The actors can't escape the confines of the warmed-over, coming-of-age-in-suburbia script by Mills, from a novel by Walter Kirn.

Algenis Perez Soto was a baseball player in real life, which helps to explain his sensitive, understated performance as Sugar. But he's let down by a manipulative script recycled from dozens of sports and immigrant movies. At least it dispenses with a Hollywood ending.

Days of Glory has good intentions and a well-executed combat scene, but it could do with more originality.

The news footage, so powerful on its own, needs no enhancement. The dramatized scenes only slow the film's momentum.

The screen comes alive only at the end, when a frightening tornado destroys the seaside village.

A sweet comedy with a bright cast and few surprises, the film did well in China, where it was aimed at teenagers. Since Hilary Duff isn't in the cast, its success probably won't cross over to America.

Scenes of the probe are less successful. They feel contrived, and actress Lee Yeong-ae is not especially effective as Major Jang.

Vincent Bal's film should appeal to kids, cat lovers and felines. I give it two stars, and my cat, Audrey, gives it three meows.

Caramel, by the way, gets its name from a blend of sugar, lemon juice and water that is boiled until it turns into a paste used to remove unwanted hair in the Middle East.

Matthews is supposed to be the star here, but it's Englund's hilarious, over-the-top performance that keeps Jack Brooks: Monster Slayer, by director Jon Knautz, from becoming another forgettable exercise in horror.

Albert elicits good performances from her cast, but she fails to give viewers reason to care about their characters.

At nearly two hours, Big Man Japan is clever (in a sick sort of way) but overlong. It needs judicious editing -- more mockumentary, fewer superhero antics.

Direction of all three films is no more than workmanlike, which isn't surprising since they were originally made for British television. The acting, on the other hand, is sometimes superb.

Pleasant but lifeless love story.

Uninspired in style, and Joan Allen's narration is dry.

Pity that the direction and narrative lack passion. If there's anything a story of interracial adultery needs, it's passion.

Buck is best left to TV, where it will land soon. It's "The Horse Whisperer" that should be seen on the big screen.

Too-convenient coincidences hurt the movie's credibility. A melodramatic script best left to cable TV doesn't help, either.

There are moments of fun (an aphrodisiac-laced dessert, for example), but generally the humor seems warmed-over.

All this is loads of fun, but after a while sensory overload sets in, dulling the mind. Even in a kung-fu flick, more isn't always better.

The story is told in fractured time. This might not be a problem if his visuals were more fear-inducing.

Sadly, with the Soviet Union gone, the art faces a new enemy: Islamic extremists.

Will Marcela (wonderful Ana Geislerova) opt for brains or brawn? The answer might surprise you.

As directed by Ole Christian Madsen, the thriller features well-choreographed shootouts and assassinations. But the script is too melodramatic and complicated for its own good.

As a history lesson, Oswald's Ghost is valuable, but don't go expecting any new revelations.

Johnny Depp puts in a cameo declaring that "most Americans believe the clichés about Gypsies." Unfortunately, the well-intentioned film never gets beyond clichés itself.

Mirikitani is a colorful character and talented artist, and his story tugs at the heart. Problem is, Hattendorf insists on inserting herself in what seems like every other scene, a device that dilutes Jimmy's story.

Riding Alone features a moving performance by Takakura (often called the Asian Clint Eastwood), as well as pretty cinematography. But the mushy script, co-written by Zhang, never rises above that of a TV soap opera.

If you think you've seen Imaginary Heroes before, you're right -- only it was called "The Ice Storm," or maybe "Ordinary People."

Potash's film tells an important and disturbing story, but his presentation is uninspired and non-cinematic. It's best left to TV.

The fractured timeline covers five decades, which Miller weaves together, with the past shot in color and the present in black and white. Still, the soapy climax is unnecessary.

Priceless provides lightweight, predictable entertainment that will make you yearn for the Tatou of yesteryear.

There's little new in Armadillo.

Dysfunctional families don't come much more messed up than the one in Agnes and His Brothers, a comic drama from Germany.

Sexploitation and art blend uneasily in Crazy Horse.

The film has no ready answers, although it becomes abundantly clear that both those for and against charter schools are more concerned with covering their own asses than with helping students get a quality education.

Whaley gives an earnest performance, especially when he's articulating his frustrations during his monologues. But it's all relentlessly glum. The film, like Jimmy's routines, could use a few good laughs.

It's a touching story that deserves to be told. Unfortunately, Slesin's presentation is conventional and uninspired (lots of boring talking heads). These heroes deserve better.

A beautiful but empty-headed documentary.

Ends in a cascade of sentimentality straight out of Hollywood. Not even Chweneyagae's excellent acting or Lance Gewer's dark photography can save the film.

An example of style over substance. There's lots of slo-mo and jittery hand-held camera work, and references to the French New Wave (especially François Truffaut), but little depth.

Curse of the Golden Flower could also be called "Curse of 'Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon.' " In other words, it is yet another attempt to cash in on the success of Ang Lee's 2000 martial-arts epic, which will go down in the history books as one of the most overrated films of the decade.

While I have no argument with Leeson's political views, her presentation -- mostly a succession of talking heads -- is dry and uninspired. These women deserve better.

An extraordinary woman like Eva Kor deserves a less ordinary biography.

The presentation is conventional in style but uplifting in spirit, and worth seeing even if you know nothing about basketball.

As my cat, Audrey, will confirm, I love animals. But I draw the line at having lions, tigers, gigantic snakes, bears and other predators as pets. Other people have different opinions.

A slim story that becomes schmaltzy at the end.

You have to wonder just how true to life the melodramatic depiction of these events is, especially since the film was made in partnership with TV's "Masterpiece Theater."

It's just that the script, which Ozon adapted from a play, is lightweight and better-suited to stage than screen.

If you're going to make a documentary about Leonard Cohen, the singer-songwriter, you should have him perform some of his better-known melodies, like "Suzanne."

That's all laudable - but Perry, a longtime filmmaker, should have given the doc more urgency and punch.

Things move so swiftly and confusingly that there's little time to explore any of the people in depth. Less style and more substance is definitely called for.

The documentary is much too conventional -- lots of boring talking heads, etc. -- to do the subject matter justice.

Has some truly touching and funny moments. But it goes on for too long and bogs down in a surfeit of characters and unnecessary subplots.

Debbie, for better or for worse, is the high point of the entertaining but lightweight film, which is better suited to public TV than the big screen. Oh, yes. If anybody should decide to open another beauty school in Kabul, be sure to leave Debbie in Indiana.

Mildly diverting, but lacks humor and pathos.

Takita could easily trim 30 minutes of flab and oceans of tears from Departures. It still wouldn't merit an Oscar, but it would be a lot more watchable.

There's not enough good material to fill the film's overlong 105 minutes. Is there an editor in the house?

The Inheritance has a promising start but soon becomes preachy and melodramatic.

The film is generic and uninspired, better suited to public TV than the big screen.

The contrived script lacks subtlety, rendering most characters as stereotypes.

The longer director Jan Hrebejk's film goes on, the more complex the relationships become, until the film becomes little more than a talkathon.

At some two hours, the film is 30 minutes too long. Cutting out the melodrama and sticking with the daring-do is the answer.

It's rather sweet and life-affirming, although the transformation from sophisticate to peasant happens too conveniently and quickly.

After sitting a while in front of my computer trying to come with the right word to describe the Argentine soaper Family Law, I've settled on "diverting." You will be entertained, but you won't tax your brain.

Too many cooks spoil the broth, and too many directors spoil the anthology film Paris Je T'aime.

At 132 minutes, the film is at least half an hour too long. Nobody asked me, but the best solution would be to keep the action sequences (such as the robbery of a horse-drawn steam train, an homage to Sergio Leone's "Once Upon a Time in the West''), and scrap the allegedly "witty'' dialogue and difficult-to-follow plot twists.

The script is cliché-ridden and ends on an overly sentimental note.

Delivers an important message, and its underwater photography is breathtaking. But Stewart lessens the impact by focusing much too much on himself. Did he really have to go into detail about his own health problems? This should be a movie about sharks, not Stewart.

If the plot of the Argentine soaper Puzzle seems familiar, that's because it's nearly identical to the story in the French movie "Queen To Play."

Kekilli delivers a perfectly tuned performance. Too bad the script is often clunky and melodramatic, as the first-time director, Vienna-born Feo Aladag, tries to manipulate viewers' emotions.

The subject is worth exploring - unfortunately, de Seve does so in a cut-and-dried manner that never explains why these two couples were able to stay together for so long.

Wavers between (sometimes) brilliant and (mostly) boring. But it would be wrong to call it a failure.

A downer that too often resorts to melodrama.

Glosses over the depression and alcoholism that have bedeviled Walker as well as any relationships he might have had. But that doesn't make the film any less interesting.

The writer-director, who goes by the name J Blakeson, keeps the suspense level high for the first hour or so, but he then indulges in a few plot twists that strain credibility.

Despite the title, there is no nudity in the Chinese rom-com Love in the Buff, although there is a lot of risqué language.

Fails to show indignation that rich white guys are trying to get even richer at the expense of a naive black kid from the ghetto.

Fox can't decide if Walk on Water is a terrorist thriller or a gay buddy story, and neither can the viewer.

Has a sexy cast and is gorgeous to watch -- but it takes more than that to make a movie worth seeking out.

Neil Jordan's Ondine has a split personality. It starts promisingly as a fantasy but ends disappointingly as a thriller.

The film tends to be pretentious and melodramatic; and Grant, better suited to comic roles, gives a heavy-handed performance.

Carion, in his feature debut, means well, and his characters are lovable. But the plot is so predictable and sentimental that viewers are likely to lose interest before Sandrine and her goats walk off into the sunset.

You can't help wondering how prisoners who practiced Vipassana fared as free men.

Starts as a serious examination of the two women's lives, but it descends into a mushy melodrama complete with schmaltzy music and dewy cinematography.

These were people willing to take chances. Would that Trank had taken chances in telling their stories.

Call it "The Doom Generation II." Gregg Araki's Kaboom returns to the trippy ways of his 1995 erotic head trip.

At age 76, Chabrol seems to be just going through the motions, but anyone who has helmed 70 films ("Les Bonnes Femmes" and "La Ceremonie," for example) is entitled to an off day. Look for him to dazzle us next time out.

It's always enjoyable watching Depardieu and Deneuve, but they deserve better material than they've been given by Techine.

An interesting debut for director Pesce, although it isn't worth running out to see. Wait for it to hit the small screen.

A sappy look at the title character, a 12-year-old boy who's a math and music prodigy.

If you're thinking of taking the kids to Bear Cub because the title sounds like something they'd enjoy -- don't!

Nunez gets nice performances from his cast, but his narrative is cluttered.

Performances are up to par, but the story unfolds conventionally - it lacks the fragmented fury of its predecessor. You might call it "City of God Lite."

Not a definitive portrait of the designer, nor does it pretend to be. But it should be of interest to viewers even if there's not a single YSL label in their wardrobes.

If you want an introduction to the director's work, you're better off with "La Belle Noiseuse" (1991) and his masterpiece, "Celine and Julie Go Boating" (1974).

Only marginally interesting.