V.A. Musetto

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

Has a few too many coincidences and tends to be sugary, but it has an important precautionary message in this age of terror.

Unlike traditional zombie romps, these crazies don't stumble around mindlessly, noshing on human flesh. They look and act like normal people - until the second they go bonkers.

Ali Zaoua doesn't have the fireworks that made "City of God," the story of Brazilian youth gangs, a crossover hit. But in its own, low-key way, Ali Zaoua is just as stirring.

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.

The Japanese whalers are clearly in violation of international law, but no government is willing to take action. That leaves it up to ragtag groups such as the Sea Shepherds to do their best to shut down the whalers. The planet owes them a big "thank you."

Utterly predictable and full of trite dialogue.

Dieter Laser is grand as the doc, a character Christopher Walken would be comfortable doing, and Akihiro Kitamura provides laughs as the first part of the centipede.

The low-budget "Master" lacks the polish and romance that made "Crouching Tiger" so popular. But for old-fashioned raw energy, it's tough to beat.

The folks on "Survivor" have nothing on Julia Butterfly Hill.

Dom DeLuise, as a fruitcake director, and John Waters fave Mink Stole, as Robin's Jewish mother, spice things up, but not enough to make Girl Play worthwhile.

Spanish director Achero Manas' El Bola shows how the boys' bond leads to salvation of a sort for the needy Pellet. He does so with great sensitivity, never sinking into exploitation.

The autobiographical script meanders and the acting never solidifies. Besides, the leads look too old to be in high school - maybe even college.

An overdone sex comedy.

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.

The story is so contrived and the dialogue so stilted that no amount of talent could save Exist.

You are left with two emotions - despair and hope - after watching producer-director Jennifer Dworkin's disquieting documentary.

An amazing portrait of the great filmmaker Ingmar Bergman in his later years.

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

There's not much new in this Filipino film by longtime director Gil M. Portes. But it's so endearing that only a grouch wouldn't be charmed.

Tucker's message is sometimes on target, even if his film isn't.

Rulfo adds punch to his material with speeded-up visuals and an eye-popping, six-minute helicopter shot of the entire 10-mile project - which alone is worth the price of admission.

Breezy, entertaining and enlightening.

It's a worthy idea, but the uninspired scripts, acting and direction never rise above the level of an after-school TV special.