If you haven't had enough of Tom Hanks-Meg Ryan weepies like "Sleepless in Seattle" (1993) and "You've Got Mail" (1998), The Lake House gives us Mopey in Chicago and You've Got Snail Mail.

Spirit lacks that essential emotional resonance, and suffers because of it.

Doesn't break any ground -- but it looks good in a tight sweater.

All that artistry is surrounded by a hackish, paint-by-numbers storyline that makes the time between dance numbers seem endless.

It's unfortunate that none of the principal actors is able to convey the passion the characters are supposed to have for each other.

Maybe the best way to see Serendipity is to take a cue from the characters and wait a few years.

Gracie is painfully earnest, which might be OK were it not also painfully trite, painfully cliched and painfully formulaic.

This fake-feminist thriller hides its sadism under a show of sympathy for its beleaguered heroine.

From the moment he enters the picture, Baldwin looks good and sick of the whole scene. Unless you're in the mood for dysfunctional-family vaudeville, it won't take long for you to catch up with him.

Latifah's performance and the film's gentle heart should prove enough to win over even the most churlish.

Enough flair and conviction to keep the movie buoyant even when its plot is abrupt and its emotionality conventional.

Entertaining, thrilling and honestly sentimental, it's an equal-opportunity crowd-pleaser.

This movie doesn't have a mean bone in its body; the problem is, it doesn't have any bone in its body.

Even Washington's welcome presence is not enough to save "Fallen," yet another spiritual allegory from Hollywood dealing with God, Satan and the presence of angels. [16 Jan 1998]

Cinema has once again proven its ability to incorporate every other mass-media art form. Director Zack Snyder and his computer wizards have made the best example yet of the movie-as-comic-book.

May not make adults feel as if they're 10 again, but it will awaken their memories of Saturday matinees that upped children's adrenaline without blinding them with Day-Glo colors or insulting their intelligence.

A kinetically charged gridiron drama that is enormous fun to watch.

The film is mostly forced and heavyhanded. Forman first thought of using Goya to tell a story about the Inquisition several decades ago. Yet this movie appears to be as much about American behavior post-Sept. 11 as it is about 18th-century Spain or the Communist Czechoslovakia of Forman's youth.

Overall, though, the movie lacks the dash, wit, authority and character to become a first-class thinking-man's thriller.

Producers hits few wrong notes on the big screen.

Nacho Libre enhances Hess' reputation as a gifted filmmaker and suggests there's more to Black than manic dementia. Both director and actor, however, need to find projects better-suited to their respective (and often impressive) talents.

Just don't think about what's going on, and you should be OK.

Too soft on its lead character and too willing to chalk up America's drug appetites to the times-that-were-a-changin' in the '60s.

Despite these flaws, people sick of gross-out films and teen-sex comedy may be so hungry for farce that they laugh.

A flimsy, genial romp peopled with early-twentysomethings and targeted at teens and young adults.

Delivers deliciously low blows at corporate America, office politics and the lengths people will go to avoid work.

Weitz doesn't manage Pullman's feat of being rational and magical simultaneously. But he rapidly and intelligently opens up Pullman's world.

Woo's antiwar intentions and his talent are at odds. In Windtalkers, war is a beautiful hell.