The story is as contrived as it is comical.

The result is a run-of-the-mill fantasy, competently produced but disappointingly familiar, from its "Forbidden Planet" premise to the digital-clock countdown near the end.

Conjures up enough involving moments to create some drama.

The plot, based on a Phillip K. Dick story, is ingenious; and Arnold Schwarzenegger brings an effective blend of machismo and innocence to his role. Too bad director Paul Verhoeven lets brainless violence and tricky special effects swamp the cleverness of the tale itself. [22 June 1990, Arts, p.10]

Spacey is endearing, bringing his shy character to life despite glaring psychological gaps in the screenplay.

There are lots of plot twists and romantic angles. What's lacking is laughs.

The only genuine moments of emotion come not from the lead actresses but from that great trouper Blythe Danner.

Directed by Allen Hughes and written by Brian Tucker, the film is a collection of crime noir oddments that don't add up to a full meal.

Good contributes very little to a conundrum that has occupied historians and psychologists for half a century.

The characters are engaging, but the story is hackneyed and the filmmaking is dull. So is much of the acting, except by Jessica Tandy, who carries her own energy wherever she goes.

As the princess’s handmaiden, Nasim Pedrad at least has the comic timing that the rest of the cast, including, surprisingly, Will Smith, conspicuously lack. Smith understandably didn’t want to compete with Williams, but as the big, blue, top-knotted Genie, he’s uncharacteristically bland. Even the magic carpet in this movie looks bummed out.

Amiable, though much too long.

Would have more heft if the filmmakers had been supplied with talented stars, original ideas, and a barely adequate budget.

Colorful and cute. It would be better if it weren't quite so sitcommy and if it didn't outlast its ideas.

It's insulting when such savvy filmmakers expect us to laugh automatically at four-letter words, bathroom humor, and caricatures as crude as they are unoriginal. At its best, The Ladykillers soars above its own worst instincts, especially when Hanks and Hall take over the action.

Steven Spielberg's blockbuster whips up superficial sorts of excitement, and unlike the original "Jurassic Park," the picture looks tacky around the edges.

The acting and crooning are sadly uneven, making this a shaky comeback vehicle for the screen musical.

Penn's excellent acting doesn't raise his character above the level of familiar clichés about woman-chasing jazzmen.

Howard spins the story with enough gusto and gumption to make it reasonably entertaining.

Utterly predictable, but pleasant enough for its young target audience.

Details of the 1963 period are weakly handled, though, and the ending is as false as it is sentimental. [21 Aug 1987]

At heart this is a cuteness exploitation flick.

The story isn't nearly as funny or suspenseful as it would like to be, although the solid cast gives it occasional dashes of pizazz.

It’s not that this material is, or should be, off limits in a movie. But The Diary of a Teenage Girl isn’t exactly “Lolita.” Heller must think that taking a moral stance is tantamount to selling out. Commercially, she may be right. In every other respect, she’s wrong.

A schematic, often contrived look at an important subject. [17 Feb 1983, p.19]

The topic is thought-provoking, the flashback-based structure is interesting, and there are surprising twists near the end. But there's also an overdose of sentimentality that badly dilutes the picture's impact.

It's all very sweet and occasionally touching. More lasting shots of more beautiful butterflies would have added a lot, though.

Directed by Ang Lee, whose exposure of middle-class hypocrisy would be more effective if it weren't rigged to provide evidence for the story's take on contemporary values.