It strains to be funny where the original's gags were efficiently deadpan, yet it's also so unbearably lazy, stooping to cliché and caricature when it backs itself into the shower.

It's bright and spry, giggly and bouncy, but also cuddly with occasional touches of cruelty--a movie in which best friends, when let loose in the wild, suddenly realize one's a little higher on the food chain.

Part of the reason that it doesn't quite succeed is that these messages are so tried and true.

It's chatty when it wants to pretend it's deep and spiritual, messy when it's striving for chaotic and thrilling, and boring when it has no other options left.

Is it enough to make us like a thing we used to love? For most, that rekindling of an old flame will be good enough.

The score sucks and the acting is weak, but there are times when certain moviegoers just feel the need to stare far-fetched, blood-drenched death in the eye and laugh. It's here, so have at it.

This might be the most predictable movie of the year, but at least it delivers everything you expect it to.

Billed as a comedy, this low-wattage sitcom is both ill-tempered and mean-spirited.

Only Kerry Condon, as Freeman's geeky adopted daughter, plays anything approaching a realistic character.

Wildly enjoyable look at the fifth-grade ballroom dance competition held annually in New York City.

At first, Ma Mère is shocking and even alluring, but it doesn't take long for the conceit to wear thin, especially since the characters so rarely act as recognizable humans.

By the end, you may be exhausted by the effort of trying to unravel the thing, but you may also be taken by the power of its spell. This is a movie that compels you to watch.

Manages to be gruesome and grisly, but not particularly creepy or frightening.

So, if you want to see this loud but rather ordinary epic, don't expect its tricked-up cultural and theological messages to carry much water. For entertainment value, it's hard to beat the climactic siege of Jerusalem, a Ridley Scott-perfect half-hour that matches anything in "Troy" or "Gladiator" for sheer, bloody, helmet-bashing mayhem.

A tenth of a movie masquerading as a full feature.

Mostly, Mysterious Skin creeps you out, and not in any kind of fun way. There's an artfulness to it, but it's hard to imagine many viewers actually using the term "enjoyed" or "entertained" in conjunction with it.

As another exposé of stubbornness, petty opportunism, and greed, there's some residual value in the story of two unappealing characters.

A beautifully acted, graceful, and intelligent film that usefully dramatizes the gulf between Fortress Bush and the relativist politics of Western Europe.

What makes Crash so gripping--so terrifying in spots, so moving in others, and even a little funny at times--is how nothing happens as we think it will.

The droll has been made dull, a most inexplicable and unfortunate turn of events for so adored a genius, goofball work as this.

Director Lee Tamahori (Die Another Day) has a shruggingly action-intensive style, which feels at once heavy-handed and lazy.

3-Iron is at times deliciously sensual, creepily somnolent, whimsically spiritual and disturbingly violent. But it is never quite coherent.

It's a slow and laborious persona piece.

The film is rich with real feeling. And Dench's performance is a heartbreaker.

The Interpreter dashes the suspense by talking the audience to death.

An entertainment success, a triple threat of fresh writing, inspired directing, and, yes, good acting.

A thoroughly professional, frequently spectacular piece of muckraking.

Unlike some other soccer movies, there's no fancy editing -- excitement is generated strictly by the actual choreography and the commentary of an English announcer.