V.A. Musetto

Has funny moments, but it also has a lot of drag time.

Where else can you get to hear Otto sing "Crazy"?

The story becomes so convoluted and contrived that much of the tension dissipates.

Enjoyable if only to hear KarKar perform his mournful and personal songs, including a tender tribute to his late wife.

A stylish look and a fair amount of hot and heavy sex (mostly hetero), and the final shootout is pretty nifty.

Entertaining and informative, but it suffers from distracting voice-overs of what are supposed to be Madame Mao's thoughts. Too bad.

The screenplay also fails to put the unconventional relationship into context. It never lets on that Andrea helped Duras produce some of her best work, including the autobiographical "The Lovers."

An unassuming love comedy with plot problems.

Tabatabai delivers a strong performance and the script, although not always plausible, touches on important issues like bias against gays and Muslims.

Viewers are either going to walk out after 10 minutes or, like this tolerant critic, get caught up in the sordid lives of the three misfits and stick around for the ambiguous ending.

Isn't perfect, but it's light years ahead of "Ong-Bak."

Contains all the clichés of the post-prison genre -- but it has some redeeming qualities.

The result is, alas, competent but unexceptional.

While some of this white guy's humor is juvenile and in questionable taste, Hoch, for the most part, is able to pull it off and supply a frequent number of laughs.

Well-meaning but flawed drama.

The battlefield sequences unfold with surreal horror, while the human bonding in the foxholes emerges tenderly. On the downside, Bauer - who makes no pretense about where his heart lies - tacks on a melodramatic coda that lessens the momentum of an otherwise praiseworthy film.

It examines other crises faced by JFK - Cuba, the Berlin Wall, civil war in Laos, the insurgency in Vietnam - and finds that in each case Kennedy chose talk over tanks. (Often, he went against advice of aides and generals.)

Take "Thelma & Louise," throw in hot girl-girl sex and you have Gasoline, a flammable import from Italy directed by Monica Stambrini.

Lightweight but enjoyable entertainment.

So, should you see The Intruder? Yes -- but only if you're willing to ignore bothersome concerns about narrative and let the poetic images take over your mind.

A slight movie. But it has its share of charm and is a pleasant way to spend a little over an hour. It also is a sign that Burns might actually have talent.

A protegé of Gus Van Sant, Archer -- who also makes short films and music videos -- has a wild imagination he has trouble harnessing. He doesn't know the meaning of "too much." But Barkin, in short, blond hair, is superb, as usual, and Aaron Platt's cinematography is stunning. Here's hoping Archer gets his s - - t together in feature No. 3.

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).

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

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.

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.

It's a clever concept that should play well on TV and the Internet. But as a big-screen movie, Life in a Day -- which lists brothers Tony and Ridley Scott as producers -- elicits a shrug and a question: Who cares?

The film is loving but shallow.

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.

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.

Pleasant enough, with funny moments.

Brabbee, artistic director of the Nantucket Film Festival, is to be commended for her dedication to this project, but the film isn't hefty enough for a theatrical release. Public TV would be a better showcase.

Darkly funny (par for the course with Miike), visually stunning and full of references to other films.

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.

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

Hugh Jackman appears briefly as Sophia's Aussie boyfriend, and gets to perform a lively song-and-dance number. But for some strange reason, his name isn't in the credits.

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.

The movie is no more than a TV sitcom stretched to feature length. All that's missing is the laugh track.

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

A downer that too often resorts to melodrama.

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."

An old-fashioned soaper that will please or not, depending on a viewer's tolerance for schmaltz.

The director, Queens-born Adam Watstein, who also edited and co-produced, deserves credit for making a film with modest resources.

An affable comedy that, unfortunately, has too many characters and subplots for its own good. The film also could do without the stereotypical character of a gay wedding planner who is supposed to be funny -- but is just embarrassing and clichéd.

Despite some fancy editing, Forget Baghdad is forgettable.

PAGING Pedro Almodovar! We have a movie badly in need of your help.

An overdone sex comedy.

Young Goethe looks great, and the cast is appealing. But the story is riddled with clichés and fabrications.

You can't quarrel with the lensing and acting, but the overabundance of coincidences keeps Vivere from reaching its full potential.

The direction is never more than conventional, with a tear-inducing finale better suited to a TV soap opera.

Borderline clichéd, and it makes getting a US visa seem way too easy. But I can think of much worse ways to spend an hour and a half than watching this absurdist comedy.

For one thing, it goes on too long. But it looks good, the cast is perky.

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

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.

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.

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

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

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

A slim story that becomes schmaltzy at the end.

An interesting but flawed look at the birth of the French New Wave.

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.

Under writer-helmer Rehana Mirza, the acting and direction are workmanlike, but the plot is full of hackneyed characters and contrived events better suited to TV than the big screen.

Has some witty dialogue and sprightly performances by Karen Black, Andrea Marcovicci, Victoria Tennant and others.

Beautifully filmed and well-acted, "The Gift to Stalin," directed by Rustem Abdrashev, has its schmaltzy, cliched moments, including an unnecessary finale in Jerusalem.

It pains me to report that his Zebraman is a disappointment.

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.

Trouble is, the movie is only sporadically funny, and the concept soon grows tiresome. In fact, you could say that there's too much downtime in Autoerotic.

If you're looking for great action scenes, you've found them. But if you desire more than eye candy, such as character and plot development and historical accuracy, you'll have to look elsewhere.

You know exactly how this thing is going to turn out before it's even half over.

The biggest problem is Wong's decision to cast Norah Jones as Elizabeth, a New Yorker who hits the road after a love affair goes bad. Jones, in her first movie, can't act. (There, I said it!)

Loads of fun, especially if you use the site yourself. But it plays too much like a paid ad.

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 film opens with a disclaimer: "Although based on real events and people, this is a work of fiction." There should be another warning: Unless you're up to date on French politics, a lot of Googling is needed to follow the players.

Less an adventure yarn than a character study of two old guys with fading memories and improbable dreams.

Wolman gets his point across, but he does so in such a predictable, contrived and sappy manner that viewers aren't likely to care. And the final plot twist is a cop-out.

The film is one-sided and at times unfocused, but it makes a lot of sense politically.

Of historical interest, although a more experienced filmmaker would have made more of the sudden rush of events - and avoided the temptation to put himself or herself into nearly every frame, as Grappell does.

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

Brisseau obviously aims to shock - and he does. Now shocking is A-OK with me - but only if it's part of a something bigger. Exterminating Angels is beautifully lensed and acted, but it lacks substance.

Make a movie about depressed people, and what do you get? A depressing movie.

There are the makings of a funny movie here, but novice director-writer Anna Reeves isn't up to the job. While her cast is talented, Reeves doesn't concentrate long enough on any plotline or character to build viewer interest.

Go for Zucker was a smash back home, where it was hailed as the first German comedy about Jews since World War II. But it will take more than that to make American audiences laugh.

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.

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.

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

The acting by Seigner, Marina Hands, Karin Viard, Patrick Bruel and other French notables is first-rate, although their characters and what they have to say are trite.

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

Claiming that from Korea to Vietnam to Iraq, the US government has misled the public - and the media - on the reasons for going to war.

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.

Suffers from a lack of focus and a sitcom script.

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

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

Pleasing to the eye, with lavish sets, ravishing costumes and two great-looking stars. Unfortunately, there is little else to recommend this overwrought, melodramatic bodice-ripper.

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

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.

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.

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."

Ultimately breaks down under the weight of too many characters and unbelievable twists.

Pleasant but lifeless love story.

A toe-tapping, booty- shaking look at Cubans' love of music that gets bogged down in political thoughts that go unexplored.

The Grudge offers a bit more exposition than did "Ju-On," but the plot is still wispy.

The fine supporting cast includes Steve Buscemi, as a cynical American doctor who at first doesn't get along with Rabe; and Anne Consigny, as the French head of a local school for Chinese girls.

The film tastefully handles the sensitive subject, but it lacks the bite that a Michael Moore would have provided.

Burning Annie has funny moments, but it suffers from an overflow of characters.

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

Okuda's debut behind the camera, Shoujyo, is a dirty old man's delight: schoolgirls galore in short skirts or, in Yoko's case, nothing at all. That may be enough for some viewers, but not for those who insist on a story that gives substance to its characters.

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

None of its characters is especially interesting.

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

Overall, however, it's sappy and predictable -- fun to watch, perhaps, but instantly forgettable.

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.

Corddry leads a game cast, but the film is rough around the edges...It would play better as a TV sketch.

The documentary is unapologetically one-sided, and spends more time canonizing Abu-Jamal than exploring the murder and trial themselves. Still it raises issues of racism in America (flashback to George Wallace) that are worthy of discussion.

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.

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

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.

What Kamikaze Girls doesn't have is a plot. As nice as the film looks, it soon grows tiresome -- though I could listen to the Johann Strauss II soundtrack forever.

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.

The story is contrived. Would you believe a high-rise window-washer just happening to be cleaning the window of the room where, at that very moment, his wife is being raped by her boss? Didn't think so.

There's little new in Armadillo.

The generic plot is redeemed by exciting action sequences, good-looking location photography and a hot sex scene involving a femme fatale named Lea (pixie-haired Melanie Thierry).

Going Under is the feature directorial debut of 65-year-old Eric Werthman, who has been a practicing psychotherapist for a quarter of a century. If you're not already seeing a shrink, Mr. Werthman, may we suggest that you start immediately.

It's also sugary and has a silly tear-jerker ending. But I found myself laughing at the film's gentle humor, anyway.

The three women deliver solid performances, but the film is diluted by the use of flashbacks superimposed over present-time scenes. The result is visual chaos.

Touches on issues raised in "Bad Education," but without Pedro Almodovar's flamboyant elegance.

Stick around till the end. You don't want to miss an unexpected cameo from a filmmaker I won't name. Hint: He's short, likes younger women and isn't Woody Allen.

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

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.

Yearning for an exciting African adventure? Oka! isn't it.

When it comes to magnetism, the Rolling Stones have nothing on Amma, the Indian mahatma ("spiritual guide") chronicled in Jan Kounen's handsomely photographed but one-sided documentary.

It also gives another black eye to Iranian fundamentalists. It is most unfortunate, then, that the film isn't better.

The opening and closing scenes are scary and should please fans of the genre, especially at Halloween time.

The script doesn't offer anything especially new, but Burman infuses the film with innovative lensing and capable acting.

Despite strong performances by Gerard Jugnot as the crime-busting prosecutor and Veronica D'Agostino as the adult Rita, The Sicilian Girl never lives up to its potential.

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

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.

Mostly We Are Wizards is a loving, if flawed, tribute to creativity and artistic freedom.

The acting is super -- these guys know how to be sweet and disgusting -- and the story provides its share of laughs. But after a while, the one-note movie, directed by Felix van Groeningen, grows tiresome.

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.

Mildly diverting, but lacks humor and pathos.

The movie is a pleasant way to spend time in the dark, especially for Francophiles, but it won't leave any lasting impression.

A soggy love story doesn't help this instance of style over substance.

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

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."

Medina has taken a series of vignettes and fashioned them into a feature film as aimless as Luciano’s life. There’s no buildup or payoff; still, Hendler’s laid-back performance makes Medina’s film worth seeking out.

Can't overcome the familiar, soapy script.

The film is well-constructed, as one would expect from Gondry, but it offers little reason for anyone outside the family circle to care about dear old Tante Suzette.

Gabizon has a great idea. But he ruins it by devoting too much time to colorful but unnecessary characters.

Everybody involved in 39 Pounds of Love probably had the best of intentions. But watching the filmmakers scurry about to record every last tear, I couldn't help but feel that this twisted little man was being exploited.

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

A flawed black comedy about two buddies who open a butcher's shop in a small Danish town.

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

What could have been a biting dark comedy is, instead, uninspired and generic. The contrived, everybody's-happy finale just makes things worse.

Unfortunately, Angelou's detached and often superfluous narration lessens the film's impact.

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

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.

Kids will get off on Bugs! and then go home and have nightmares. Adults who accompany them may have to fight off sleep before they get home.

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.

My Way is not, as the title might suggest, a Frank Sinatra biopic. No, it's an eye-popping, empty-headed World War II epic made in South Korea.

Has a few things going for it -- a winning performance by Luchini and a small role by Pedro Almodóvar favorite Carmen Maura. But these talented folks can't compensate for a plot that strains credulity and lacks badly needed social bite. Wait for the DVD.

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

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

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.

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

Sweet but not especially original.

Bogdanich's film contends that the bombing of Yugoslavia by NATO in 1999 was the result of blunders by the West, and that the forces supported by the United States in Bosnia and Kosovo are allied with Osama bin Laden.

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

There are no women or straight men left in Taipei. At least that's the impression left by Formula 17, in which every single person (except for one child) is a gay cutie.

There's a lot happening here, perhaps too much. At times, the movie threatens to implode under its own weight. At others, it's wickedly funny.

It loses direction, turning contrived and sentimental. There's even a touch of Frank Capra.

Earthwork is best left to TV.

An overwrought Taiwanese soaper.

Think you're depressed now? Wait till you see Aurora Borealis, which spends almost two hours watching Ronald Shorter, a suicidal old man, die.

It would have been nice to learn as much about Sar the man as about Sar the dancer.

Good-natured, lightweight fun, although clichéd and more suited to DVD and cable than the big screen.

Most of the dialogue is in English, almost all of the story takes place in the U.S., and there is none of the kitschy fun that gives Bollywood flicks their charm.

Filled with nostalgia for old Chinese movies, respectable performances and lively kung-fu slapstick.

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

There is also a fair amount of boy-on-boy sex, which would be the main reason for seeing No Regret, no matter what your sexual orientation might be.

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.

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.

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.

The film looks nifty, but the flat and unemotional English-language dialogue lessens its impact.

The charming cast...brightens up the screen, but the TV-sitcom script does them in.

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

If only its characters weren't such stereotypes.

The plot of Attitude isn't exactly original and won't have you sitting on the edge of your seat. But Nilsson knows how to create a noirish mood, and some of the camera work is interesting, if pretentious.

There aren't many surprises as the story unfolds in soap-opera fashion, with a happy ending for all concerned.

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.

Offers interesting views of ordinary life in Baghdad that Americans won't find on TV news. But the impact is lessened by the director's failure to let those who think the war is justified have their say.

Too bad the script is predictable at every turn.

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.

May be momentarily entertaining, but don't expect anything profound from the lightweight saga.

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

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

The clichéd, heavy-handed script lets them down.

An uplifting story to be sure, but director-producer David Swajeski doesn't do it justice.

The script is morose and unfocused - not to mention hard to believe and insulting to women.

Director-writer Seth Grossman provides a lazy narrative, with stereotypical characters and plot.

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

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

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.

Director Michelle Esrick, who followed Wavy around for 10 years, journeys from Manhattan to Woodstock to Nepal to the hills of California to tell Wavy's story. The journey is entertaining, whether you witnessed the 1960s firsthand or heard about it from your grandparents.

You can't fault the film's elegant look. But you have to wonder why Shakhnazarov, one of Russian's most experienced filmmakers, didn't take more care with the script.

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

The film works best when we see N'Dour onstage. He has a great set of pipes and is nothing if not charismatic.

Redmon makes a valid argument, but he belabors the point. Mardi Gras: Made in China would play better if it were more focused and less repetitive.

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

There's nothing especially new or interesting about the guests, the party or the movie. One bright note is Nicol Zanzarella as the elegant Susan, a freelance TV editor and co-host.

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.

The result is entertaining but hardly memorable.

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

Campy and clichéd.

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

The non-linear plot makes for confusion and, except for the inspired final shootout, the action sequences are mediocre.

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

Borba keeps referring to himself as "a hero," but the directors, Burt Sun and André Costantini, never delve into his psyche. On the plus side is Costantini's luscious cinematography.

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

Earnest but not terribly original.

On the plus side, Derek McKane's moody camerawork makes Gotham look grand. Too bad it's wasted on The Last New Yorker.

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

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

A beautiful but empty-headed documentary.

Green's odd little movie is clever -- too clever, as it turns out.

LaBruce devotees will be tickled pink; others will be perplexed and/or disgusted.

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

Gerren's story is fascinating, but Roberts dilutes it by going off on tangents about unsafe cosmetics and phony plastic surgeons. Both topics need exploring - just not here. There's more than enough drama in Gerren's life.

The classical music is soothing, the cinematography handsome and the acting strong, but the Swedish coming-of-age saga Simon and the Oaks is burdened with a sappy, soap-opera-ish script.

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.

The result is anti-Army propaganda rather than a balanced piece of reporting.

Strained and mildly amusing. The real reason to see the movie is the delightful performance by Sara Forestier, who rightly won the French version of the Oscar for her portrayal of the carefree Baya.

Makes a convincing argument that the decades-old Cuban blockade has outlived its usefulness.

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

If animal slaughter makes you queasy, this movie isn't for you. Along with several cockfights, there's a long scene in which a pig is butchered. The folks at PETA would be most unhappy. People don't fare much better than the animals, with blood flowing in a seemingly unending barrage of violence.

Levy's innovative movie should appeal to mumblecore fans while perplexing mainstream audiences.

Fails as a detective story, but it does offer an entertaining look at the punk scene in the 1970s.

This new movie features stylishly filmed and choreographed battles. But in between the set pieces is a lot of sentimental blather that slows down the film. More action, less talk should be the order of the day, but it isn't.

Only marginally interesting.

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.

Fails to deliver the dramatic punch.

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.

A melodramatic import from Algeria, is so relevant in this age of global terrorism, it's a shame it isn't much better.

Best advice: Wait for Two Men Went to War to go to the small screen.

Juliette Binoche and Benoit Magimel have great chemistry together as the lovers, and the scenes of their lovemaking and frequent battles bring the movie to life. Outside of those moments, however, the film is too stagey, talky - and long - for its own good.

It's mindless entertainment, so take it or leave it.

At more than two hours, Cherry Blossoms could do with some pruning. And do husband and wife have to have rhyming names?

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.

The siblings react with humor and horror to what they discover. So will many viewers of this self-indulgent but engaging work.

Sexploitation and art blend uneasily in Crazy Horse.

Technically competent. What it needs is an original script.

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

Can't decide if it's a martial-arts thriller or a sappy soap opera.

Gets off to a worthy start, but falls apart about halfway through.

Mawkish and manipulative, the film isn't worthy of its widely praised German director.

Unpretentious, TV-style documentary.

The script falls victim to the stereotypes and clichés so often found in movies about Asian-American families. Still, Lee shows talent, although it might take a feature or two before she finds her own voice.

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

Strictly generic, it does little more than regurgitate the J-horror hits "Ringu" and "Ju-on."

Never rises above the level of a soap opera, although the steamy sex and Lo's abundant nudity might make it worthwhile for some viewers.

The premise has potential, but there's no follow- through. And there's no actual zombie mayhem; we learn everything secondhand -- from phone calls to the station.

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

This is Ebiri's first feature after directing four shorts. He shows talent, but shouldn't give up his day job just yet.

Szumowska provides lurid scenes of perverted sex, but she offers no new insight into the sordid world of prostitution and the dangers sex workers face. Nor does she flesh out Charlotte and Alicja. The result is a superficial and voyeuristic film.

The movies of prolific and popular Japanese director Takashi Miike evoke many emotions -- nausea, excitement, awe, amazement, shock. One emotion they don't often evoke is boredom. Sad to say,Dead or Alive: Final is boring.

All are subjects worthy of discussion, but tackling them in one film disrupts the movie's momentum and shortchanges viewers. Baichwal could have devoted a single film to just BP's disgraceful behavior.

The opening credits of Gangster's Paradise note that it was "inspired by real events." It would be more accurate to say that the film was inspired by Brian De Palma's "Scarface" and similar fare.

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.