The movie is best when it just riffs on our compacted memories of the past 18 years of episodes. Fortunately, that's most of the time.

The best reason to see this documentary is for the stunning shots of polar bears and walruses in the Arctic Circle. If the filmmakers had just left it at that, they would have accomplished a lot.

Though much blood is shed, the film is bloodless.

A feel-good musical that, for a change, actually makes you feel good.

Comedy that seems designed to be as bad as it can be.

Too much of Sunshine is like a cross between a middling "Alien" movie and "Solaris" (the woozy Steven Soderbergh version).

The back-and-forth between the performers is tensely choreographed, and Buscemi does a good job opening up the action, which mostly takes place in a Manhattan loft.

Patrice Leconte has directed excellent serious films such as "Monsieur Hire" and "Man on the Train," but when it comes to humor he loses his bearings. His latest attempt at seriocomedy, My Best Friend, is a premise in search of a film.

Whatever brought Greene down was far more complex than this film allows for.

Harry comes through loud and clear as a conflicted, edgy, avid young man. He's turned into EveryTeen.

First-time director and co-writer George Ratliff skirts, but never quite crosses, the line into absurdity.

Although nothing beats seeing and hearing the real story, Herzog has done a fairly compelling job of blending staged action with docudrama authenticity.

Just about everything connected to this movie is a tie-in, except for the popcorn. And even then I'm not too sure.

A sham.

Barring a middle-class revolt, it's extremely unlikely that, whatever its virtues, universal healthcare could ever take hold in America. Still, I'm glad Moore made his film.

As was also true of Pixar's last movie, "Cars," Ratatouille is better at pleasing the eye than the other senses.

The performances, especially by Hugh Dancy as a sexually confused rich kid, are overwrought, and the script, which Michael Cunningham ("The Hours") wrote in collaboration with Minot, is slack.

Easily the best in the series since the first one.

The film is a so-so slog through a torrent of tired jokes.

Stunning.

A pleasantly disposable romantic comedy starring the once and future indie-queen Parker Posey.

The acting is fine -- and so is the moody-blues direction -- but, given the subject matter, the movie should be blacker and more disturbing.

As summer franchise superhero flicks go, it's tolerable.

Emma Roberts is squeaky-clean to a fault and so is the movie.

What rescues Eagle vs. Shark is its focus on Lily. Although Horsley overdoes the winsomeness, she is genuinely appealing. Love erases Lily's geekiness and in its place stands an attractive young woman.

It's all a lot closer to melodrama than drama, but Thalbach is a dynamo.

The most enjoyable thing about the "Ocean's" movies is that nobody involved seems to take them seriously. The star wattage is immense but the stars themselves are refreshingly self-deprecating, almost satirically so.

La Vie en Rose elevates Piaf the archetype over Piaf the artist. Although I question this approach, I'm not sure it could have been done any differently, at least given the facts of Piaf's life. If there is such a way, Duhan didn't find it.