Even a C-section couldn't rescue the shallow script and overplayed performances by Hugh Grant and Tom Arnold.

What else can I say about a movie in which even a brilliant artist like H.R. Giger repeats himself… except that besides a few random moments, Species just doesn't make the grade and also manages to waste a fine cast along the way.

It's not that First Knight is a terrible, embarrassing piece of junk; it's just a film of stunning averageness and not really good or bad enough to make any kind of a lasting impression which, depending on your point of view, may be even worse than a total failure.

It's a riveting, nail-biting, two-buckets-of-popcorn return to form for Howard.

With absolutely as little time devoted to character or plot development as possible, Mighty Morphin Power Rangers: The Movie may not be Battleship Potemkin, but it does deliver the cheesy sci-fi goods for fans of the colorful television show, even if it's not likely to win any new converts.

Pocahontas' arrow, tipped with tender romance and feathered with spirited folklore, hits the bulls-eye dead on.

What Safe does so brilliantly is to plunge us down this frightening rabbit hole with Carol.

There's so much and so little going on here simultaneously that you're not sure whether to squirm or doze.

With lyrical beauty and memorable performances, The Postman articulates many feelings that seem to defy explanation.

Knockout ensemble performances like these don't come around all that often, though, and when they do they ought to be savored.

Jawdroppingly bad, this adaptation of Michael Crichton's 1980 novel about a talking ape named Amy and a fabled lost city deep in the jungles of central Africa is as sophisticated in execution as a Jungle Jim movie.

Party Girl strives only to be as fun and lighthearted as its namesake.

Bridges is another example of Eastwood's remarkable economy of style as both a director and an actor. It is neither his best work nor his worst, though it is a fascinating exploration.

What Carlei captures perfectly, and what gives Fluke its affecting moments, is a sense of uncanny canniness that the “lower” animal world so often displays. That and a neat little plot twist (not to mention a touching rescue scene involving a chimpanzee and a terrier) make Fluke an interesting, offbeat family movie.

At its best, which is when it's exploiting both its eye-popping special effects and delicious production design (the interior of the haunted mansion is truly awe-inspiring), Casper proves itself to be passable, if mindless, kiddie fare. At its worst, Casper continually resorts to desperate star cameos to get a rise out of the audience, lame and phony heart-tugging to get them emotionally involved (and there is more of this nonsense than you might expect), and ridiculous, coincidental plotting to make sure this thing runs at least 90 minutes.

For his first shot at feature filmmaking, Longo does an admirable job of keeping the story line rocketing along, though his seeming attempts to out-Blade Runner Ridley Scott in the decaying cityscape department grow wearisome and the occasional wooden drivel that Reeves spouts adds a bit of unintentional humor to the proceedings.

Thrilling, a grand cinematic adventure -- beautifully handled myth-making from Gibson, who, by the way, is just fine in the lead.

Director Alfonso Cuaron, in his first American movie, has fashioned a world so real and so engaging that you can feel it and smell it and taste it as surely as if you were there.

McTiernan is an old hand at actioners and, like the pro he is, keeps the film rushing along from fiery stunt to stunt.

Amateur offers the inimitable Hartley style with a harder edge than his earlier films, and while the thriller elements of Amateur prove entertaining on a bigger scale, this entertainment may not endure for viewers not completely committed to Amateur's characters and Hartley's slow-motion storytelling.

Like something by Tolstoy or Dostoyevski, but -- of course -- on a much smaller, less ambitious scale, it is a work that weighs on your mind long after you leave it.

Go see it, get the adrenaline rush, and then go home and forget about it. It's noisy and fun, but that's all it is.

While the story of Wild Reeds may be at times unbearably obscure, the images infuse the film with a drama and beauty that is unrelenting in its impact.

What it all boils down to is that if you don't mind that artificially flavored, plastic-bagged, stale pink and purple stuff that gets passed off as cotton candy these days, you will probably like French Kiss. But if I'm going to indulge in the sweet stuff, it needs to be fresher than this.

Though Crumb is packed with information and telling details, the movie's objective is hardly art history or a survey of Crumb's place in the world of comics. The movie aims for broader subject matter, to discover something about the role art plays in the life of the artist, and about how the release of art may, indeed, allow the artist to function as a stable human being.

Carpenter's updating of the classic 1960 chiller is mediocre at best, and at times plummets into unintentional humor. It's arguably the weakest horror film he's ever made.

A refreshingly lighthearted look at day-to-day life in the inner city, Friday does suffer from a few problems in the scripting and directing departments, but entertains nonetheless, thanks mainly to the easygoing style of its talented cast.

It's charming, in its own little way, but really, this film has as much substance as a Cirrus cloud, despite fine turns from Boyle as the family patriarch and Warden as Godfather Saul.

The Basketball Diaries is a stepped-on product that never scores.

Schroeder's film is fun to watch, even when it's being predictable or brutal, but its memory is nearly gone the next day.

From the swooping aerial shots of downtown Miami, to the long, long-legged beauties that seem to crop up every time the action threatens to slow down, to the nonsensical lack of logic that permeates the film like the acrid odor of wasted cordite, Bad Boys oozes Eighties Hollywood clichés like no film since "Top Gun."

Although flawed in many respects -- it's not as smooth and silky a movie as it could have been -- Don Juan DeMarco nevertheless evokes a romantic mood that tickles and caresses.

Part historical narrative, part epic romance, and part swashbuckling adventure, Rob Roy is overly cultivated, resulting in a stiff, unnatural hybrid that's quite lovely to look at, but lacks spontaneity.

If A Goofy Movie was one-fifth as demented as Tiny Toons, it might have been worth watching. Instead it is bland, a barely television-length cartoon stretched out to fill a feature, and not much fun.

This latest Saturday Night Live movie spin-off is a whole lot better than it has to be, but consider the past standards Tommy Boy has to live up to.

A glorious, spastic mess. Jamie Hewlett and Alan Martin's neo-underground cult comic book Tank Girl comes to life looking, amazingly, exactly like it ought to, positively overflowing with an ever-changing riot of color, gratuitous violence, inter-species shagging, toss-away one-liners, and gobs of little wonky bits that will either knock you upside the funny bone or leave you reeling from out-of-it confusion.

Second-guessing the audience in the third act takes some of the wind out of his sails (the film wraps up the loose ends so tightly you can practically see the bow), but Hackford does his best with a King tale that many thought would be unfilmable.

What there is here is Damon Wayans ripping up the screen -- which is entertaining but doesn't go far enough -- but this film really isn't about anything else. My 4 1/2 year old cracked up at the butt jokes but doesn't know what “turd” means so he missed much of the verbal humor.

Egoyan's greatest strength as a filmmaker may be his ability to create and sustain particular moods and atmospheres. In that sense, Exotica lives up to its name.

Director Condon displays a sure hand with material that could easily have turned out far worse, making this a nicely disturbing piece of work that rises well above the conventions of the genre almost all the way through.

As Benny, [Driver] nudges the film out of its few valleys of smarm, making Circle of Friends a heartfelt love letter to circles of friends everywhere.

Thankfully there are no weight-loss montage sequences; what you see with Muriel is what you get, like it or not. This refusal to change or convert the main characters makes the film so appealing.

Outbreak has the feel of a movie written by a committee of writers -- it's totally lacking in personality.

After a string of disappointments culminating in this silly waste of time, it's hard to care if horror's golden boy carries on or not. Forget The Mangler. Go do your laundry instead.

The film's story is both culturally specific and broadly universal and that duality is a large part of what makes Once Were Warriors work.

As real as the Astroturf in the Brady's backyard and as eager to please as Alice's meat loaf, The Brady Bunch Movie is -- to exhaust this string of metaphors -- pure junk food. But like most junk food, it sure tastes good.

Watching Heavyweights isn't as bad as either war or fat camp, but its few bits of truly comic dialogue (courtesy of co-writers Brill and Judd Apatow) and inspired acting aren't enough to save the film from its syrupy and predictable theme.

It's a rich, humid mix of race, murder, and mystery that works well, even if it doesn't work perfectly.

A sorry excuse for a movie, and director Davis (CB4, Guncrazy) and star Sandler should be very embarrassed.

It's a mess, and one that even the pickled cowboys behind me found yawningly tedious, and that's not something I ever thought I'd be saying about a Sam Raimi movie with the word “dead” in the title.

Boyle, MacDonald, and Hodge honed this wonderful coupling of music, visuals, and clever words, as well as a strange affection for toy babies, in their first film.

Boys on the Side is surprisingly effective, although its narrative often advances awkwardly.

All in all, In the Mouth of Madness is a fun, clever horror picture, full of creepy crawlies, things that go bump in the night, and references to everyone from H.P. Lovecraft to Dario Argento.

The film is unapologetically sweet and hopeful, but it's said the heart's true home is the water, that its nature is to bob atop the cares of the world like a wooden cradle on the waves.

Watching and listening to these two is a charming experience; their conversation has the ring of veracity, and rarely does the viewer's interest stray.

Highlander 3 has an edge over its prequels in that it's so shoddily directed that it's probably a great deal of fun to watch after a couple of six-packs. Actually, that's probably the only time it might be fun to watch, and I'm not going to be the guy to put that theory to the test for you.

The camerawork, which relies heavily on shots of picture-perfect vistas and not enough on human beings and their place in this world. When we do see the characters, we primarily see their beauty.

Director Benton's style in Nobody's Fool is controlled, almost austere, but it allows the actors to breathe familiar life into their roles. It's a fresh air they breathe, a rejuvenating one that affirms the virtues of a simple story about everyday people.

Higher Learning is a disappointment. What might have been director Singleton's (Boyz N the Hood, Poetic Justice) most ambitious and potentially intriguing work, wound up as his most shallow and scattershot.

For his part, Hawthorne rushes pell-mell into the thorny valley of dementia and crawls out with every puncture registering on his worn face. The performance is rich and rewarding.

Ready to Wear is to filmmaking what paper dresses were to fashion -- thin, trendy, and disposable.

I.Q. doesn't profess to explore the theory of relativity, but even as a light romantic comedy it fails to engage the viewer completely.

The Jungle Book is far more thrilling than frightening and is easily capable of entertaining three generations of filmgoers simultaneously.

Death and the Maiden is a streamlined razor-ride of a movie: taut, riveting, and a psychological horror show that will leave nail-marks in your palms for days afterwards.

Even this director and the talents of three wonderful actors can't save this weak script.

It's hard to give a damn one way or the other about Street Fighter -- it's so thin that an errant sneeze might topple this glossy house of cards.

Finney's portrayal of Alfie is heartbreaking in its naïveté about his own desires, yet he also brings to the character an unbridled joy in life's basic pleasures.

But though there's half a cashew of Steve Martin's amazing physical comedy, a couple of pecans of Sven Nyqvist's beautiful cinematography and a few eye-catching filberts of very Venice-y set decoration, it's not nearly enough to satisfy. Be forewarned: Open this can of Mixed Nuts and you'll find nothing but a bunch of goobers.

Armstrong presents a warm, funny, and believable rendering of the March family.

There's absolutely nothing here you haven't seen before, and while some kids might be mildly entertained, they would probably be even happier just staying home for the daily Power Rangers re-run.

Maybe it's indicative of my end-of-the-year brain-fry, but this dopey comedy about two of the dumbest guys in the universe on a road trip to misadventure is a hoot.

In its rush to push hot buttons, Disclosure neglected some essentials of good storytelling.

You end up feeling -- despite Jones' dead-on performance -- like you've been cheated. It looks good. It feels right. It gets the job done…. But there's nothing there. Just like Cobb. Maybe that's the point.

Interminably unfunny, this holiday offering about how the three Firpo brothers learn the true meaning of Christmas from the inhabitants of the quaint small town whose bank they've robbed is something of a crime itself.

Jennifer Jason Leigh's performance is so incredible that witnessing it is reason enough to take a look at this movie.

The film courses with vitality -- and makes you glad to be alive. Kieslowski's deft touch gives Red its real magic; in the end, the subtle nuances are what stay with you.

Junior is passable entertainment, but it could hardly be called fully developed.

Gory, spastic fun, Love & a .45 is a broken roller-coaster ride of Texas trouble. It's not anything you haven't seen before, but it might remind you why you liked those other movies in the first place.

Besson's visuals are, as always, vibrant and decidedly European. He fills the frames with odd-angled shots and alarming riots of color that catch you off-balance.

Star Trek: Generations is a successful entry in the series, and a darn good film on its own.

Benny's Video renders the viewer complicit in the actions unfolding so nightmarishly, forcing us to ask ourselves why we watch.

The sidekicks Jean-Bob, the dandy French frog (Cleese), and Speedy, the true-blue turtle (Wright), are mildly amusing, but knowing the talent behind the voices, you can't help but wish that they'd had a hand in the writing as well. Still, the picture has a certain sweetness about it that melds nicely with its old-fashioned look (the cels are all hand-drawn and hand-colored) and the characters are not totally without charm. What it boils down to is that The Swan Princess just doesn't have that old bibbity bobbity boo.

Fueled by witty imagery, wonderful performances, and careful direction, Heavenly Creatures is a must-see for those who like their films a little on the adventurous side. And while many will feel that they are discovering the work of an intriguing new director, die-hard fans may fear that Jackson is “selling out” to a mainstream audience because the picture isn't loaded with severed limbs and spurting arteries -- but, rest assured, this is hardly the case: Heavenly Creatures is the director's most unconventional movie to date -- and is coupled with both a delicate maturity and confidence that makes his evolution as a filmmaker all the more thrilling to observe and lead one to wonder what this unpredictable talent will come up with next.

It is, however, a very satisfying film, and surely the first in a long franchise (it does, after all, bear the subtitle The Vampire Chronicles).

Actually, this souped-up sled is a perfect vehicle for TV star/comedian Tim Allen and, despite its formulaic chassis, he takes us through a few interesting twists and turns.

Mamet's layering of issues -- academic freedom, violence to women, political correctness, materialism, elitism -- is masterful, as is his use of broken dialogue -- the sentences stretch out here like a row of jagged stones.

Writers Steph Lady and Frank Darabont (The Shawshank Redemption) retain much of the source's action and all of its spirit, but still make the work speak to our age.

On screen, Wolf and Dacascos have a remarkable chemistry. They bounce cheesy lines off of one another like they were reciting Shakespeare or Tarantino or whatever passes for great writing these days. Both are surprisingly good actors. Unfortunately, there are no further surprises.

Roland Emmerich hasn't bettered us as a culture with Stargate, but he hasn't corrupted us, either.

A carefully constructed thriller whose clever dialogue keeps pace with its fascinating lead actress.

Beatty and Bening are pleasurable to watch, but their onscreen rapport seems to lack just a bit of the fire they had in Bugsy.

Although a few bits (the film is done in blackout sketch style) fall flat and a good ten minutes could be shaved off the running time with no visible damage, it's an impressive and irascible debut that rings true even when you're laughing too hard to hear it.

Very satisfying. Classic storytelling, modern techniques. And the images: This movie has embedded so many strange and new mental pictures in my head that I'm not able to shake free. Yet, neither would I want to be free.

The self-reflexive nature of New Nightmare is a twist we haven't seen before, and it works well, up to a point.

Bits and pieces of the story will, on occasion, leave you scratching your head but it, nevertheless, moves rapidly enough to keep you scurrying to keep pace with the new business at hand.

After spending time with Moretti during the course of this movie, one discovers that he makes an interesting and entertaining companion.

The trailer for the film is more gripping than the feature itself.

The strangest biographical film ever made is also one of the most charming, melancholy and quirkily humorous films of the year.