The movie's a cheeky, low-budget goof on dice-and-slice horror films, but for all the visible seams, it's a lot cleverer than "Scream."

Some things remain a mystery. If we were a little bit better as people, this decent, clear-eyed movie hints, they might not.

Medea works on von Trier's own imagistic terms. There are shots and sequences in this movie that feel unique.

Dirty Rotten Scoundrels essentially remains a duet of exquisitely turned gestures exchanged by Martin and Caine. It isn't killer comedy. Sometimes its leisurely pace veers dangerously close to slackness. But it's as close as Hollywood comedy comes to chamber music. [14 Dec 1988, p.77]

This isn't just physical love, warts and all, but warts, liver spots, saggy parts, and all. Still, the thing that ultimately keeps your head turned is how persuasively filmmaker Andreas Dresen ("Summer in Berlin'') argues that desire can create just as much emotional tumult in golden years as in youth.

Presents a darkly realistic yet seductive world, with music as the tie that binds.

It's neither a neat little allegory about faith nor a transcendently entertaining one. I Am Legend is actually about the last man on earth played by one of the last real movie stars on earth. To be honest, Smith was all I was thinking about while I sat through I Am Legend.

Predictable but still keeps you laughing along the way.

A bittersweet world, and it's frankly one to which we've been before, but seldom do we see it rendered with such exquisite, if pained, craftsmanship.

Like “An Inconvenient Truth” (2006), the Oscar-winning film about climate change, it is a call to action. As a screed, it builds a credible, engaging argument, presenting evidence, statistics, talking-head testimony, whimsical charts, poignant personal stories, and animated illustrations of digestive processes to make its case.

Kaboom lets Araki play with carnality as opposed to cautioning against it.

The Syrian Bride could be one of those big, teeming matrimony comedies like "Monsoon Wedding" or "Father of the Bride" but for the barbed wire running right down the middle of the aisle.

As with any documentary where the star tells the story, “Faye” occasionally comes off a little lighter than a more objective look might have been.

The marriage between its uplifting personal message and its embrace of big business is a rocky one, but Longoria and company hold the union together.

Isn't always on the money, but when it is, it really is.

In My Skin takes that pain/pleasure principle and magnifies it until you're either dumbstruck or running screaming from the theater.

The movie's few false notes come from Lumet's script, which can be overly explanatory. Because Demme is opting for present-tense realism, the characters are forced to fill us in on who did what when to whom, why, and how.

For a few years, Veit Harlan must have felt he was the right filmmaker at the right place at the right time. Did he ever stop to think that his luck also meant the doom of millions? Moeller’s documentary can’t supply an answer. It does, however, make the rest of us wonder.

Like most films about gay men, Undertow can't envision a normal life of couplehood. But Fuentes-Léon works in a blithe and breezy magic-realist manner that fends off attendant feelings of depression.

The film is an astonishing visual experience and at times almost profoundly suspenseful.

Has that rarest of qualities in movies that think of themselves as religious. I'm talking about the vision thing. And the ability to make morality entertaining.

The more I consider it, the more I realize the best elements of this film make it worth seeing, if only marginally so. There is enough to, dare I say, marvel at while you are beaten senseless with plot.

Hauser, who’s excellent, uses his bulk and heavy-lidded eyes to keep the character a cipher; Eastwood knows we’re judging Jewell as much as the real cops who mock this naïve wannabe behind his back.

May not be as dramatic as Roman Polanski's ''The Pianist,'' but its compassionate spirit soars every bit as high.

Wacky enough and gadget-driven enough to appeal to bored kids looking for fresh energies.

I’m not sure if the movie works overall, and there are a lot of loose ends that may frustrate some viewers. But I was hooked and couldn’t stop watching Riley’s raunchy, outrageous vision unfold.

You come away enchanted less by the character than by the woman playing her.

I can promise you a fairly good thriller with mixed-bag elements: preposterous plot, smartly elegant direction, one of the worst recent performances by a major actress, and a dynamite stick of an action scene that can stand close to the greats (the car chase in "The French Connection," the single-take battle sequence in "Children of Men") and from which the movie never really recovers.