Would have been smart to fold before it let its hand go this far.

Apart from the fang-restraint of the nosferatu, however, there's precious little that's altogether new or for that matter shocking about this by-the-numbers thriller.

Never fully rises to the occasion, maintaining a goofily even keel throughout but rarely tipping over into all-out froth and nuttiness.

It's not quite as bad as "Cutthroat Island," I'll grant you, but it's woefully close.

If it's not perfect, it still gives pleasure to the eye.

The script's tone veers chaotically -- and ambitiously -- at once aiming for a Noel Coward kind of elegant sparring, then for the lightly raunchy, rompy absurdism of "What's New, Pussycat?"

It's one of those period dramas about upper-crust Europeans in vacation resorts, which at first we think we've seen a million times before.

There's something good-natured, even sweet about this well-meaning affair.

Appropriately belongs to Lopez. His mannequin glaze and never-wavering smile provide more creepy-crawlies than a thousand quivering violins or perfectly timed thunderclaps.

Green, who looks like a chinless, hollow-eyed pederast at the best of times, is simply out of his league here, and the fact that the film drags interminably when it's actually a very average 90 minutes long betrays its essential emptiness.

Adults may discover, however, that when they get to the center of this particular world, they find no real there there.

There's no denying it's a tragic film from start to finish, but equally undeniable is the endless stoicism displayed by the women, and Panahi's crisp, meandering direction.

As much romantic fantasy as it is social satire, but more to the point -- it is gloriously and tear-wellingly funny.

It's a silly, goofball romp, sure, but this newfangled Josie rocks far harder than her predecessor.

A succession of shrill overacting jobs.

Amibitiously mediocre.

There's an oddball quality to the ensemble that might even be lovable if the movie weren't so glib and perfunctory.

Plot and character development are scarce; the film is more an abstraction than an absorption.

This is a scattershot affair, though fans of Reno should find it engagingly loopy.

The film is dignified rather than dour, full of rich imagery.

An efficient, if overly mechanized, delivery system of thrills 'n' chills.

Do yourself and your kids a favor, parents, and head to "Spy Kids" instead.

The most delightful segments are those which observe new audiences experiencing the motion picture phenomenon.

A movie about life and death; its underpinnings are soaked in the perfume of artistic expression.

We've just been to this party before and we know how it ends, again and again and again.

For those willing to submit to its terrible charms, it may be the single most important debut to come out of the Americas in years.

It's a humorous film, to be sure, but there's also a stringent vein of giddy realism to it.

It's cheap and it's lowdown, and to those responsible for this exercise in devolution: Honestly, I'm not sure I want to know someone like you.