The players and their stories are as wonderful as the music, and the filmmaking is uncommonly sensitive and alert.

This brash shocker by John Sayles—who wrote, directed, and edited—is bound to annoy as many people as it intrigues.

At once a light comedy and a reasonably serious meditation on the perils of fame.

Another virtual-reality SF movie -- and you're not likely to care.

This is gold-plated navel gazing in the worst 60s style.

This rambling but beautiful feature by Theo Angelopoulos may seem like an anthology of 60s and 70s European art cinema: family nostalgia from Bergman and seaside frolics from Fellini; long, mesmerizing choreographed takes and camera movements from Jancso and Tarkovsky; haunting expressionist moods and visions from Antonioni.

Not at all bad for a toy commercial.

Cher generates much of the movie's limited interest with her powerful screen presence, and Maggie Smith's skill as a diplomat's widow who believes she has a special relationship with Mussolini is undeniable. Yet the story, structured by the fragmented perspectives of too many characters, is more often lightweight than funny.

Though it comes across as labored in spots, it also yields a good many beautiful and suggestive moments, and an overall film experience of striking originality.

A pretty good job of zipping things along and occasionally scaring us, and the digital effects are fun.

Their splashy gore is more convincing than this incompetent horror-comedy's attempt to mock bourgeois high school dissoluteness without appearing judgmental.

It's the romantic sparring with Catherine Zeta-Jones as another glamorous thief -- not the unsuspenseful heists -- that makes this silly thriller lightly bearable.

He doesn't lose his stylistic identity either: in addition to the very Mamet-like delivery of unfinished sentences, his command of rhythm and flow remains flawless throughout.

Audaciously combining conviction and childish humor, this SF thriller reminds us that the distinction between the tangible and the intangible may be frighteningly arbitrary--an idea that's made too scary ever to seem trivial, no matter how silly things get.

The treatment of this touchy material is impressive, neither gratuitous nor mincing, but this satirical comedy doesn't really go anywhere.

Schmaltzy comedy.

The only thing that keeps the proceedings bearable is the cast gamely rolling with all the shameless sitcom punches the script keeps throwing at them.

A hearty style of self-referential filmmaking that only adds to the persuasiveness of Lillard’s stunning performance.

Action comedy hurriedly cobbled together as a fund-raiser for the Hong Kong Directors' Guild.

Drew Barrymore's virtuoso performance smooths over the plot holes.

This fairly serious meditation on conventionality and monogamy blames his ennui on external forces, remaining adolescent even when it suggests its hero has grown up.

Steve Martin and Goldie Hawn are too good for this embarrassing remake.

Most of what transpires is low-key, affectionate comedy and a fair amount of fun.

Karen McCullah Lutz and Kirsten Smith's script has its witty moments, and some of the secondary characters--such as Larry Miller as the father and Daryl "Chill" Mitchell as an irritable teacher--are every bit as quirky as the leads.

There's not much humor to keep it all life-size, and by the final stretch it's become bloated, mechanical, and tiresome.

The movie, which leans too heavily on the metaphorical value of the two historic events, dives from heady romance into heavy moralizing.

But it's also Howard's and his audience's misfortune that a good time can be had by all only if nothing of substance gets said.

An exercise in robotic filmmaking.