Is The Break-Up worth your time? Let's put it this way: Whenever Vaughn is onscreen, it is. When he's not, it ain't. The movie's a comedy, but it's also about a breakup, so it gets a bit maudlin toward the end.

Whatever your orientation, these bosom buddies are bound to charm you, and perhaps by joining them, the very talented MacLachlan may continue to find work.

It has but one thing going for it: a cast filled with Oscar nominees.

The movie does find fresh ways to tweak the formula, making it more than the sum of its broad strokes.

It's sweet and well intentioned, with occasional amusing moments.

It winds up like all Hollywood comedies these days--merely resembling something funny.

A movie that leaves you wondering what the fuss was all about when its end credits appear; it's a mish-mash of a dozen other, better films ground up and watered down--Seven, Silence of the Lambs, and Manhunter, to name a few of the usual suspects.

Nothing happens. At all. Ever. Remember when Steve Martin was funny? Apparently, neither does he.

While the idea may be good, its execution is awful.

Moore's likable and Goode's good. But . . . so what?

Ambitious in scope and humble in execution.

Actually, that shift in moral perspective is the freshest thing in the movie--it keeps the action absorbing even when the script keeps hammering us with lessons about the commercial exploitation of the news and TV audiences' craziness and gullibility.

Feels like two films that aren't closely related enough, either tonally or narratively, to warrant their intertwining.

Try to forget about Michael Gambon in Potter's original BBC miniseries; Keith Gordon's film is its own thing, full of Brechtian artifice and oddball humor -- Mel Gibson's old man act in particular.

You will leave Mona Lisa Smile with only the slightest hint of the grin every slick studio movie gives you--the grin of reassurance and superiority. But you will not be changed, only out about eight bucks.

The Broken Lizard types bring the best out of Paxton, only to abandon him in the second half and focus on themselves. A bit more humility might have served them in better stead.

As an actress, Madonna has to work on her vulnerability more.

If you happen to be seeking a fairly cute film concerning occultism, torture, and murder, here ya go.

A film that aspires to join the company of its predecessors--smart, funny satires that skewered the hypocrisy and cruelty of high school life. But it won't. For starters, Pretty Persuasion commits a fatal error: It forgets to side with the students.

A little too loud, and a lot too boring.

Into the Blue drowns before it even surfaces.

Proof of Life kidnaps the audience, then tortures it to a slow death

Means to be heavy in terms of psychology, provocation and the examination of emotion, but it sinks like a stone the minute it hits the surface.

Competently if unremarkably directed by Englishwoman Clare Kilner, should prove compelling enough to Moore's huge legion of fans.

However you slice it, Bleep remains a work of naive invention and wannabe spirituality.

50 Cent sounds articulate in his raps, but as a lead actor, he talks like his mouth is filled with food.

Its execution is stultifying, laughable and ultimately a little offensive.

Although the movie doesn't go in for quick fixes, it's not particularly revelatory or insightful. It's a textbook paradigm of grief, loss, and regrouping laid out in three acts.