Where Peter was yee-ha giddy with the discovery of his newfound powers in the first film, he's crushed by the weight of responsibility that comes with them in its far superior successor.

Its tone has elements of Jim Jarmusch and the Coen brothers but without Jarmusch's self-conscious artiness or the Coens' hip snottiness.

The performances are uniformly remarkable.

It's painful, it's real, and it's probably the funniest thing you'll see this year...a teen sexploitation classic.

This infusion of warrior philosophy is the gas in Ghost Dog's tank, and Jarmusch pumps it up for maximum octane throughout.

This is the breakout role for Sigourney Weaver, whose iconic presence still propels this ride beyond the scores of substandard imitations that followed. Why see it on the big screen? Because it's bloody brilliant.

Ryan's performance burns with a rare and passionate veracity. The other half of the delight comes from director Jane Campion, whose sensualist eye and scabrous heart infuse In the Cut with guts and glory.

The central theme of the movie is the pure joy the cartoon takes in childishness.

Kubrick's comic gem sparkles with enduring relevance.

It was Melville's second-to-last feature, and it shows him in top form, with a more generous dose of humor than usual.

Herzog is primarily interested in Treadwell the filmmaker, but you'll likely be fascinated with him as a human being.

Lasseter and Stanton and the rest of the animators and gagsmiths use the computer with staggering imaginative freedom.

May be the most wrenching, profound and perfectly made movie nobody wants to see.

Meandering but reasonably charming.

The Dreamers is a real humdinger, at once an intimate romance, a glimpse into a rather unconventional friendship and a beautifully focused celebration of cinema itself.

The singing and dancing in this Chicago are uniformly splendid, right down to Gere's tap dancing. The high wit and dark eroticism Marshall brings to the famous "Cell Block Tango" number are matchless.

A riveting movie that's as entertaining as it is socially and politically important.

At the heart of it all is an entrancing lead performance by the teenage Kilcher.

The final product is great populist entertainment and may even leave audiences with a feeling of comfort, however fleeting, in the knowledge that corrupt corporations don't always win

Spielberg can never top this. Period.

The directing's a bit obtrusive, but the script and the acting gets to the heart of Mamet's glorious obsession with macho B.S.

The first exceptional drama of 2004, The Mother feels like life itself, sharpened to its finest points.

It gracefully defies the usual categories, gets under your skin in ways you cannot anticipate, then works its way straight toward the heart. It's far and away the bravest and best movie of the year.

The zingers come so fast and furious that if you miss a few (and even the most alert viewer will the first time), there are always more.

He (Spielberg) commemorates the soldiers in that vast Normandy cemetery in the most absolute and honorable way possible.

This film is a miracle, an extravaganza equal to its predecessors and in some ways more stunning. It is a profound testament to the extraordinary power of moving images and sound.

What makes About Schmidt so extraordinary is how ordinary its tale is; it's a gray picture about gray people looking for some kind of meaning in their gray lives.

Whatever else it may be, this movie is not like anything you've seen this year, and those weary of Hollywood norms owe it to themselves to seek it out.