Even Cathy Moriarty-Gentile's role as a rival mob boss (with a nod to "Raging Bull") can't save this DOA affair.

Like its protagonist, the movie tries to rise above convention, flails about a bit, and slides back into self-parody.

Probably the ultimate writers' film, but it's also a brash, daring, and dynamic film -- as delicate as an orchid but as durable and malleable as the species.

Its adult themes of familial separation and societal betrayal are head and shoulders above much of the director’s previous popcorn work -– more hurt, more heart, more unassailable hope.

A tour de force of modern cinema.

As far as pronoun horrors go, They can't hold a candle to Them or It, but as an anti-tourism ad for Seattle, it's right up there with The Ring in terms of overcast, glistening panache.

It's like "Jackass," but with a budget and no midgets.

As things turn out, Clooney’s butt is just one of the many delights to be found on a trip to Solaris.

Certain to be distasteful to children and adults alike, Eight Crazy Nights is a total misfire.

Just doesn't have it.

Would be a much better film had it not relied so heavily on a bombastic soundtrack (by James Newton Howard) for its emotional impact and spared itself some of the more overdone images of campus life.

In so many ways, The Quiet American speaks volumes.

Dull and meandering documentary.

Moments of almost unbearable beauty.

Neither as good as its direct ancestor (Michael Schultz's great 1976 hood masterpiece Car Wash) nor as clever as the original Friday, this is, to put it bluntly, all seeds and stems.

There’s also something to be said for wanting a little bit more.

When all is said and done, there ain't no mountain high enough that should keep you from getting to this movie. We've heard it through the grapevine for too long.

“This is just like a video game,” observes rapper-cum-actor Ja Rule, taking aim during one of the myriad firefights that comprise this lunkheaded, vaguely dystopic actioner. Man, is it ever.

At two hours, the movie goes on too long and resolves too little -- even though it provides some interesting moments along the way.

Columbus never quite captures the depth, the rich complexities of Rowling's novels. She's written four Harry Potter books for kids that adults swoon for, too. Columbus has made two Harry Potter movies for kids … and we'll leave it at that. That isn't bad. But I suspect there's something better just around the bend.

Haynes brings the emotional underbelly to the surface, he also tricks up the visual surface with elaborate color schemes that provide unspoken clues regarding the characters’ frames of mind.

But even a rapper needs to punch things up a bit, and 8 Mile, for all its hip-hop braggadocio, is a pretty weak riff.

A triumph of style over logic. Although this is not necessarily a good thing, it works spectacularly in this instance.

The overall tone of this rocket-paced updating is exhilaratingly giddy, making it by far Disney’s best animated film since "Mulan."

Burrus has a face that does all the talking for him -- deep creases, sad eyes, and a gray hue that hangs over him like a rain cloud. It's a remarkable performance.

Honest and unflinching, Daughter From Danang isn't always pleasant to watch, but it is powerful and memorable.

Sweet enough while it lasts.

Just plain dismal, an inexplicable mining of old, mid-level programming that has all the raging excitement of continental drift.