The movie isn't about the band, really; it's about having a chance when the cards are stacked against it. It's about climbing out. When they sing those great soul songs, it feels like a better world for everyone and that's how Parker manages to get us into his box with him.

Director Bender has fashioned a film without any surprises, though after the first two films, anyone would be hard-pressed to make audience members jump.

Hopelessly muddled but doggedly entertaining.

The movie's not bad in the action department, especially if you're a perennial fan of the gun shots and verbal quips combo. But it's so cynical, so brazen about its cardboard iconography, so calculatedly cool, that you just start longing for that crystal dream -- any dream but this one.

For once, the Coen brothers' neurotic filmmaking style works to their advantage; it's giddily appropriate for a movie about a man who's losing his mind.

Pure Luck manages to deliver only four decent laughs in its entire 105-minute time.

One brother grows up to be a dashing smuggler, the other is a dork and it's a tribute to Van Damme's acting ability that it's frequently impossible to tell which one is which. I could go on, I'm having a pretty good time at this, but I think I'll save my usual rants about homophobia, racism, and generally insensitive stupidity for a movie that attracts an audience that reads film reviews.

Predictable as sunburn on the 4th of July, it is a film as ingratiating as its star. Visiting the town of Grady is a fairly pleasant pastime, but there's no excuse for a film this light to last over two hours as this one does.

The sequel is not as bad as the original, but it doesn't have to be much to accomplish that small feat and it isn't.

As much a movie about class, race, and sexual orientation as anything you've ever seen.

There's a serious teen angst movie somewhere in all this as well as an unflinching look at suburbia.

The movie has its moments but it plays like a ball of confusion. Life Stinks seems to be Brooks' bid to be taken seriously and leave the fart jokes behind. And something about that stinks.

At once perplexing and joyous, Maddin has crafted a film that, for all the confusion inherent in the tale, unfolds on its own unique (and rather tedious) terms. Love it or hate it, this is one film that just doesn't give a damn what you think.

Bill & Ted's Bogus Journey isn't much of a trip. In a word...NOT!!!

All of the major players turn in powerhouse performances, and Fishburne nails his best role yet as Furious.

Bigelow stages the film's action sequences with a brutal efficiency (they almost redeem the movie), but she can't keep the increasingly silly script in check.

Ford, as usual, is a delight to watch; his portrayals of both Henry the Ruthless Lawyer and Henry the Reborn are dead-on, unerring in their accuracy. Bening is likewise excellent.

The movie buries its treasures in the crevasses of its drollery and craziness.

What is notable, though, is the amount of compassion invested in the film by Cameron and co-screenwriter William Wisher. There's a fairly well-drawn moral message in T2 that was more or less absent in the first film.

What's missing is absolutely nothing. No joke is passed up or thrown away. There just might be a little too much.

The Rocketeer is a gung-ho all-American summer flick with the guts not to try and be anything else.

Although City Slickers lacks incisive wisdom, its well-honed witticisms should make this a refreshing summer crowd-pleaser.

Home Alone meets Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure and then visits Working Girl – none of it works.

There are two powerful movies here, unfortunately, they don't coexist easily. Lee has to fight his way out and he opts for narrative stopping violence when perhaps he should have continued the dialogue. He's a man on a tightrope and it's hard not to watch him without worrying about him.

Absolutely marvelous special effects are the salvation and the curse of this movie.

This is a movie to love, that touches you in places you never suspected, that shows you that the road less traveled is the road to your dreams.

Everybody figured producer Joel Silver and Willis couldn't lose and guess what? They all rolled craps.

This is a wonderful, disarming film, sort of like Ghost, but with all the Hollywood drained from it, leaving nothing on screen but the truth of the matter. Which is the way it should be, of course.