The Net entertains but is unlikely to hang around on the cerebral hard disk for too long.

As bad as cinema gets.

Combining farce and tragedy in equal amounts, DiCillo has made a film that should appeal to anybody who has ever had a particularly rotten day.

Oz's movie is well intentioned if a touch too heavy on the PC side of things, but ultimately proves just too uninspired.

Sound silly? It is. Very. But it's also highly enjoyable, incredibly slick and a damn sight more entertaining than numerous other bombastic actioners. Bogosian makes for a splendidly deranged villain.

While not exactly poised to bother the old grey matter too much, will provide a great night's entertainment for sitcom lovers everywhere. But doing for childbirth what Four Weddings And A Funeral did for nuptials remains an unlikely proposition.

Despite the ridiculous premise and casting this is still a pacey little sci-thriller.

The three leads make a decent fist of it, but they're somewhat let down by a script that fails to sparkle and a less-than-perfect balance of action and emotion.

On such a limited level this delivers; if you take the kids, leave them to it.

It's a war story with all the action removed and moral conflict inserted in its stead. That you're no longer allowed to boo is bad enough, but asking anyone to root for this bunch of drips is adding insult to injury.

If you can see beyond the eye-scorching neon and don't mind the desecration of a superhero icon, there's a few crumbs of enjoyment to be had.

What begins as mildly intriguing stuff with some genuinely unsettling moments, quickly melts into a plot so confusing that it almost begins to look as though the editor was taking some mind-altering substance.

Streep and Eastwood's chemistry makes the film.

It's aimed squarely at the tinies, but there is charm enough here to make it bearable for adults too.

Gibson's future-world may be a cold one, but it should never be seen as a dull one; this is a missed opporunity.

Soppy and girlish in the extreme, this should keep even the tiniest viewer rapt, while all too many adults may fall victim to an inexplicable bout of eye-watering long before the closing credits.

Despite a final, tacked-on helicopter denouement, it remains a gripping, relentless, supercharged slab of fun that knows no bounds - New York is its playground and the sky's the limit.

It's hard to care about the characters in this defiantly downbeat drama.

Equipped with liberal helpings of square-jawed top quality Hollywood thespianism, and that expensive, highly commercial Tony Scott gloss-finish, this submarine-set mutiny thriller is about as good as it gets.

While it's all very pleasant watching these undecided pubescents frolic in the lake in their undies, there's a distinct lack of real drama or purpose in the self-indulgent, humourless proceedings.

A biting exploration of family dysfunction and artistic catharsis.

Pointless re-make. One of (the once great) Carpenter's worst.

Bullock is a delight, disarmingly kooky, pleasing to look at, and - as she has previously proved - a gifted comedic actress.

Without rising star DiCaprio and Mark Wahlberg this would have been considerably more turgid and unappealing. But their charm allows sympathy and involvement with the characters, despite their efforts towards self-destruction.

This is a bold, enormously enjoyable effort, by turns both hilarious and disturbing.

Well made, but not entirely successful ensemble thriller.

Depp plays on both his looks and quirky charm to make the title character a joy to watch, while Brando thoroughly enjoys himself as the suddenly amorous physician. Utterly charming.

Braveheart in a new kilt. Not exactly original, then, but worth a look.

We've seen it all a million times before, but there are abundant (foul-mouthed) funnies, and debut director Michael Bay shows his commercials expertise propelling the noisy nonsense into a frantically slick and thoroughly enjoyable extravaganza.

Harmless enough day in the sun for Goofy; pity there's an overwhelming feeling throughout that he deserves better.

Sadly, beyond the wigs, costumes and exquisite set design, its a vacant enterprise.

Against the odds of a feeble script and uninspired direction the duo do, in fact, grow on you, and there are a smattering of silly laughs, most notably a sequence involving a large road kill stashed in the back seat.

Sadly, despite its various attributes and overall funky MTV sensibilities, this never gets quite brutal or blockbusterish enough and the result is a movie both likely to offend the family and infuriate the aficionados in roughly equal amounts.

Despite superb performances by Kathy Bates and Jennifer Jason Leigh, a limp, almost TV movie trite, climax never comes near delivering the shocks it should. A shame, as what could have been superb, is merely average.

Exotica reaches for the mysterious, subtle and provocative with sparing but tangible success, and is flashy in the same way earlier Egoyan films were buttoned down.

Nowhere near as creepy as the original, nor as effective a scarer.

Despite its glaring obviousness, this is charming enough to captivate the viewer, producing unexpectedly strong female characters and faultless attention to detail.

Petersen pulls off the thrills at a stomach lurching pace, and with its requisite Hollywood ham - husband and wife reuniting over piles of haemorrhaging bodies - loud performances, crashing stunts and a fearsome, hypochondria-inducing conceit, there's barely room to catch your breath, let alone cry foul.

Lame and clunky in many places which doesn't manage to save this bizarre premise from dull absurdity.

This is enormous fun, one of the best TV adaptations to date, and guaranteed to provoke a nostalgic misty eye and mischevious grin in anybody who's ever owned a crimplene tank top.

Breaking the golden rule of thrillers - don't let the audience guess the ending from 15 minutes in - this just becomes largely pointless.

Okay, a couple of sniggers sneak out, but on the whole the effect is stone cold.

This ankle-deep story has a cheekful of tongue, providing opportunities galore for hammy, quick-draw melodrama and the perfect vehicle for Ms. Stone.

This, the debut feature from acclaimed TV director Danny Boyle, is the best British thriller for years, a chilling and claustrophobic heart-stopper centring on a moral dilemma destined to fuel many a dinner party conversation.

There are no real surprises, and it's arguable whether three such disparate souls as these would, in reality, bond so well. But the acting is flawless, the principals fleshing out their characters far beyond their hastily sketched stereotypes.

Fans can console themselves with some disorientating creepiness as half-glimpsed monsters swarm and the fine melodramatic performances. But as the film descends into a babbling wreck you start to wonder whatever became of the directing talent that gave us Dark Star, Assault On Precinct 13, Halloween and The Thing.

The overall effect is too intelligent to be soppy and too damn good to be ignored.

Lame, but in a good way.

In all, Legends Of The Fall is a grand bore, more laughable than stirring. So big everything becomes blurry and distant, so beautiful it could be ad for male hair products.

Mesmerising, magical portrait of smalltown America, dominated by a performance from Paul Newman so outstanding it must surely make him front-runner to hoist the Best Actor statuette come Oscar night.

Despite its aspirations to big-screen scares, this delivers more kitsch than a truckload of glow-in-the-dark skeletons.

Impressive because Loach keeps things simple in an accurate social study.

Good intentions, but dull and predictable.

An excellent debut from director Hytner. The real treat, though, is Hawthorne who, whether lecturing his family on regal responsibility or taking a dump in front of the PM, gives what is undoubtedly the performance of his career.

Relatively speaking it's nonsense, but very cute.

So so adaptation of the Kipling story. The human performances are riotous but their animal counterparts are blank canvases yet to be coloured.

Even by their high standards, the performances of Weaver and Kingsley here are impressive, and Polanski ratchetts up the tension nicely. A chilling and thought-provoking piece.

It comes across as a man's eye view of what a women's film should be like, and although it's not altogether clunky, you can't help but feel that in the hands of a more sympathetic director it could have been something really quite special.

You should feel sorry for the memory of Julia - whose swansong this is - but actually it's Van Damme who commands sympathy.

This is full to brimming with doleful pathos and a potent cast.

The beginning of Steve Martin's non-funny comedies. Ephron should know better as well.

It's beautifully mounted to capture the age and the passing seasons, though director Gillian Armstrong never lets the production values overwhelm the gentle sketches of girlish hopes and pastimes tempered by the trials of life.

Another dose of Culkin charm.

Genuinely gripping, Demi makes an awesome femme fatale.

The film never sentimentalises the old swine as it explores the nature of his genius. Terrific ballplayer, miserable human being. Unworthy subject, great movie.

Much like Parker’s career, the film begins with scintillating flashes of what might have been, but slowly deteriorates into waspish repetition.

Exquisitely shot, superbly acted and deftly written, this is easily one of the best arthouse films of the nineties.

A daft movie, but one not without its moments of healthy radiance, spurred on by some bristling gags and a welcome comic return by Emma Thompson as a gauche fellow doctor caught in a romantic sub-plot.

Devoted Trekkers will have to see it to keep abreast of the ships’ logs, but Saturday night at the flicks fun-seekers are apt to concur this one only fires on stun.

Taut, clever, and fronted with two excellent performances, this is a clever choice for Jackson's first step into mainstream filmmaking.

Bold, gruesome and melancholic, this Gothic horrorfest offers us much to sink our teeth into: Cruise - who effectively disappears from the screen for half the film's duration - is terrific, Dunst eerily compelling, Banderas hypnotic.

The film drops from obvious comedy into a ready melt slush which no amount of make-up and special effects can rescue.

Sumptuous to look at, with some decent performances but Branagh's attempt at this gothic horror just doesn't hold together convincingly and fails to engage.

Smith's script simply crackles with an endless succession of humorous gags and on-the-ball observations while Anderson's brilliant performance as the shop assistant from hell is worthy of a film 100 times as expensive.

A scintillating piece of filmmaking, the kind of movie you look forward to seeing again even as you're watching it, and an extraordinary response to both the Dogs-Is-Overrated brigade and the He'll-Never-Top-His-Debut sceptics.

A truly great documentary.

Genre thrills with a big dose of originality.

Exciting in parts, Meryl Streep and Kevin Bacon doing their best, but arc of suspense doesn't quite bring you to the edge of your seats.

Van Damme once again bends and twists his muscular frame to superhuman excess, but his Belgian tonsils have all the flexibility of the Himalayas when it comes to splurting out his one-liners.

Almost a guilty pleasure. But not quite.

Unforgivably terrible.

Bold and beautiful ideas perfectly realised.

The strength of the piece is that it realises which aspects of its genre have been seen too many times, always coming back to Nelson's blank but expressive stare as he watches terrible things the director doesn't need to shove in our faces.

A thumpingly good ode to friendship, hope, wit, wiles and wisdom, brimming with crackling characters and topped with the most twisteroo of twists since "The Crying Game."

Energetically humourless, with travelogue and circus footage inserted between the dog-piss and big boob jokes.

A film that isn't so much bad as bizarre with Willis disastrously miscast as a gun-hating trauma victim and the kind of ending that even the writers of Scooby Doo wouldn't dare contemplate.

Those who find men in feathers inherently divine will have a high old time here, and there are enough hilarious cinematic moments for the gob-smacked rest.

What sounded like a bad idea before it started shooting, proves such an atrocity that it makes her last effort, The Beverly Hillbillies, look almost Oscar-worthy.

Earlier Clancy films alternated between the dull and the ridiculous. First-rate writers like Steven Zaillian and the great John Milius have managed to make this considerably meatier.

This is a startlingly superior piece of craftsmanship, with the flavour of life and richness of the script conveyed via uniformly wonderful performances. Above all, though, it's Lee's foodie masterstrokes, as Chu prepares his elaborate menus, that make the film so mouth-wateringly unforgettable.

The result never comes close to being hilarious, merely cute in the corniest way. That it is more of a pleasure than it deserves, is down to the light, bright leads. Cage and Fonda are both charming, though he’s particularly endearing in his uncharacteristic but welcome turn as a soft-hearted, irresistable darling. The slightness is a disappointment, but the concoction is still very sweet indeed.

The net result is unbeatably good fun, helped along by that inherent fantasy that one man can create global mayhem without stopping to worry who's going to clean up afterwards.

Russell's success, however, is in creating a film that avoids being freaky or an exercise in titillation by employing a mixture of sympathetic writing and black, black comedy.

The film has a wonderful super-production look and Baldwin's Shadow breezes through via nifty invisible effects, but the plot never really gels, and for an action fantasy is rather cold.

It soon becomes apparent, though, that the best songs were used by the first two films, leaving the third with a set of slightly underwhelming tunes.

A few more laughs wouldn't have gone amiss, but then baseball's a serious business - especially when you've got your maths homework to finish before the team talk.

Tedious Western, that's a disappointment given the talent involved.

Designed to showcase Culkin at the expense of everyone else, this will have trouble appealing to the adult contingent of the family audience it's aimed at.