A relatively enjoyable kids' movie that will entertain the kids, but unsurprisingly may leave the adults cold. From the director of The Wonder Years, it doesn't break any new boundaries, but rather sticks with what he knows best, that is sentimental childhood comedies.

Terrible, but not worth getting worked up about.

It's easy to dismiss Branagh's Shakespeare productions as nothing new, but before he went on to more heavy duty fare such as Hamlet, he made this bright, accessible romantic comedy which still stands out as one of his greater directorial efforts. The cast are a joy to watch, while the beautiful location matches the romantic mood.

An average movie improved by Cruise's star appeal and accomplished supporting cast.

A surprisingly good and compelling film, that is made by its two leads.

Newcomer Mason Gamble manages to be terminally cute without getting on your nerves, and his reluctant friendship with prissy eight-year-old feminist-with-a-lisp Margaret (who tricks his friend into kissing her doll's bum and then taunts him with the "baby-rump-kisser") is simply hysterical.

This is an attempt to be both a high-octane actionfest and a satire on such films, the result of which is the weirdest concoction: the metaphysical blockbuster. No wonder it tanked.

Before John Woo went all Hollywood on our ass with the likes of Face/Off and Mission: Impossible II, he made several films in his native Hong Kong, this being arguably the pick of the bunch. Although not as slick as his later films, it's more inventive and stylised and with great early performances from Fat and Leung.

So the script and the performances aren't exactly Oscar material, but it scarcely matters given that the real stars here are the ILM-created dinosaurs, a miracle of modern moviemaking.

Continually clearing its throat to utter something profound about sexuality, this never quite delivers the speech, though its failure to fully engage the mind is made up for by its captivation of the eye.

Action filmmaking at its best; a career high for director Harlin and arguably Stallone as well.

Though Davies says this is a celebration of what were the best years of his life — he had a doting mum, nice sisters, and school was apparently okay — you'd hate to see what he'd produce if he were depressed, for the overall mood is heavy and glum.

An enchanting story played out by a great female cast, particularly Cavazos as the poor Tita, and unique visuals from Arau. With equal parts melodrama, comedy, tragedy and cookery, Like Water For Chocolate adapts well from script to screen, unlike most Hollywood attempts.

The first film to be adapted from rather than into a Nintendo cartridge, Super Mario Bros, is a shrill, hectic and tiresome fantasy with little story, less excitement and no imaginable audience.

This comedy holds few surprises, bar the realisation that Hal is Zora's father. After that it's dysfunctional family comedy all the way. But this proves to be no bad thing. Goldberg and Danson handle the material with their usual panache, while a young Smith gives a steady post-Fresh Prince supporting role.

It sets some sort of record for use of the expressions "nigga" and "muthafucka".

If you're after Sharon Stone in the buff, rent Basic Instinct. It's not a terrible way to spend an hour and a half but it just doesn't fulfill its potential. Stone and Baldwin try to get raunchy but find themselves in desperate need of a fluffer.

One of those rare things...a sequel that's funnier and more successful.

Scott Lee gives a surprisingly strong performance as the Inuit who falls in unrequited love with Albertine. If you can overcome the almost-too-coincidental fact that they are assigned to the same Air base several years later allowing them to be together again then this pleasing romantic drama could just be for you.

Although its politics may be shaky, this comedy still works thank to the charm of Kline and an excellent supporting cast. But it's more likely to provide warm, fuzzy smiles than belly laughs.

This plays up Lee's heroic accomplishments perhaps more than necessary, but it's impossible to deny the power of the basic thrust of his life story, or the spectacular fight sequences.

In this stereotypically-fuelled moralistic gangster movie, the plot is poor, the acting worse and standing at three hours, proves about three hours too long.

Witty, sharp and charming, this romantic comedy is exactly what's needed when Channel 4 aren't showing repeats of Friends. All three are equally watch able, each with their own reason for renting the apartment and each very different.

Romero does his best to streamline the flabby storyline and gets some extraordinarily subtle performances from a great cast, but King's malformed original keeps hobbling the film.

It would be easy to slam this flimsy romantic charmer for its cloying whimsicality, but at the core of its misfits-need-love-too storyline lies a warmhearted charm so captivating that only the most hardened cynic will fail to be enchanted.

Despite its admirable strengths and the fact of it being a true story, there is somehow a failure to completely connect with the fierce boy, giving his unhappy and alienating youth an unfortunate air of unreality.

The performances are alright enough but the casting was a bizarre choice and it's just not strong enough to carry the premise.

It's hard to believe that a bunch of scrappy kids would really be scared of a big dog, which leaves the premise of this film floundering. However the kids prove to be plucky enough to give the film some kind of motivation but the direction lacks in humour or excitement.

As an unashamed B-movie, The Crush does what it says on the tin and entertains for an hour and a half. Except you feel kind of cheated by the supposed climax, with the build up proving more disturbing. Silverstone is convincingly equal parts Lolita and Norman Bates.

It's a low-budget winner combining a sharp, protean visual style - one minute music video, the next cinema verite - with impudent humour, raw emotion, a thumping good rap soundtrack and some pertinent lessons in choice and responsibility.

Not all Saturday Night Live sketches succeed in the transition from small screen 5 minute slot to hour and a half, with CB4 a fine example of one with mixed results. Rock and his group do well in mocking not only the blacks, but whites and all number of classes along the way, except the story doesn't quite manage to hold it's own as the joke begins to tire after the first hour.

Never scratching below the surface "facts" of the story, this is too thin and unsophisticated to truly compel.

For its historical detail and recognition that teenagers were around long before James Dean sparked up a Marlboro, this film deserves some credit.

Two actors have wasted their considerable talents on this hapless comedy. With a flawed plot and far too few jokes, it's understandable why this isn't a particularly memorable film and just as well it's disappeared without trace.

While the morality of D-Fens methods are questionable, there's a resonance about his reaction to everyday annoyances, and Michael Douglas' hypnotic performance makes it memorable.

As a film in its own right, this quirky Ray Harryhausen tribute (a skeleton army!) rocks. As an Evil Dead film, though, it’s ultimately not funny, scary or gory enough.

Fluff it may well be, but a more entertaining and engaging piece of fluff you'd be hard pushed to find.

If the script lays the broken heart metaphor a tad too thick and the ending has a fatal inevitability that you can spot a mile off, Bill, to his credit, plays it all straight from the heart (pun intended). Go armed with a very large box of Kleenex.

There may not be a laugh every minute, but there are enough to satisfy most devotees of the relentlessly silly, tasteless school of parody.

A romantic drama which has lost some of the intended edge thanks to the Hollywood treatment.

Like its seductress, Anna, it's ravishing to behold while ultimately failing to engage the emotions.

An erotic thriller that's strangely unerotic and devoid of thrills, this is, however, mercifully short at 100 minutes.

Harrowing, visceral and definitely not for the squeamish, the fake documentary approach is an effective and unsettling tool, and while the film never quite reaches the horrific heights of John McNaughton's chilling Henry: Portrait Of A Serial Killer, it is, for better or worse, difficult to forget.

Not exactly light entertainment and it can drag in places but when the drama is cranked up, it really works.

Little more than schmaltz and pitchfork-handed fisticuffs.

The only phoney note, ironically, comes from Miller's gaffe of enlisting retired Yorkshire biochemist Don Suddaby, extractor of the said oil, for a self-conscious appearance as himself. That aside, this is exhausting, intelligent and undeniably moving .

Danny DeVito's ambitious and violent biopic nonetheless paints an intriguing portrait of a complex and angry man while effectively exploring his uses and abuses of power.

Hill remains a master of action pieces and is even director enough to get strong performances from his bunch of dressed-up pop stars. But this supposed sure-fire thriller, from a script that was called The Looters until the L.A. riots got in the way, fizzles like a Molotov cocktail with a soggy fuse.

A riot of confused, clever and dazzling moments, Toys is a true formula-defying one-off for which the phrase love it or loathe it might have been coined, and one so audaciously zany that you will be captivated or enraged.

This is a timeless thriller, a reminder of how stars who have been so average elsewhere can produce excellent — some career-best — work when given a decent script and a confident director.

Vastly enjoyable despite the syrupy, soppy song bit in the middle (go make a glass of mulled wine during it). Michael Caine is perfect in the role and there are many genuine belly laughs.

Murphy occasionally does uninterrupted seconds of shtick, but the film is stuffed with cheap sentiment (a kid with cancer), extraneous characters and embarrassing simplistic politics.

A finely-acted, sensitively-written tale.

Its popularity continues to confound critics everywhere.

The movie that brought a hip new sensibility to animated features and which still stands up in the age of Pixar and DreamWorks thanks largely to a blistering improv turn from Robin Williams.

Abel Ferrara out-sleazes even his own grubby oeuvre with this powerful if overbearing study of a soul swallowed by depravity.

Less a sequel, more a virtual remake of Home Alone, this "John Hughes production" follows the same route as its money-spinning predecessor, wheeling out the well-worn precocious-kid-on-his-todd scenario with scant regard for originality.

Lee's film suffers from message over substance and is slightly tedious as a result.

There was so much potential, yet when it came down to it, Coppola made his Dracula too old to be menacing, gave Keanu Reeves a part and took out all the action. So all we're left with is an overly long bloated adaptation, instead of what might have been a gothic masterpiece.

Though there are a few rather large nits to be picked from the sloppy plot - the action takes at least one unfathomable turn and, as a terrorist, Payne seems to have entirely forgotten to have a cause - if you enter into the spirit, this is thunderously good fun.

With a predictable central story, what might have been a distinctly average film is greatly improved with stellar performances from Garcia, Thurman and, in particular, Malkovich as well as some incredible cinematography that keeps the atmosphere tense.

Thankfully Annaud's stunning direction takes in the beautiful scenery allowing a mild diversion from the scenes of romance.

At its heart, Candyman terrifies because of its ideas. It sinks its horrific foundations very much in the real world of poverty and racial alienation.

From Phillippe Rousselot’s exquisite cinematography, with the stunning scenery of Montana as a backdrop, to Redford’s assured direction, this is utterly alluring, and manages to make fly-fishing seem not just romantic, but thrilling.

This no-brainer is fine if all you're after a bit of escapism, but don't look for anything deeper than that.

Flawed, certainly, but by no means the horror-show its paltry box-office performance would suggest.

A film about violent racism that is just too ambivalent in its treatment of the perpetrators to be anything but an uncomfortable watch. Some good performances, but leaves a bad taste.

As a light family sports feel-good this works but don't look for anything more.

Overall this is an effective reminder of a minor literary masterpiece, but most folk would be better off reading the novel or checking out the 1939 movie version.

First and foremost a highly enjoyable crowd-pleaser, despite some plodding direction and laboured point-making about TV news and the nature of fame and heroism, this has Garcia and Davis as their usual beguiling selves and an ending guaranteed to raise a smile.

The hippest crime flick this side of "Goodfellas," Reservoir Dogs has all the hallmarks of a modern classic.

A searing indictment of all sorts of American dreams, Glengarry Glen Ross is a welcome if foul-mouthed reminder of just what it takes for a lot of folk to make it through the working day.

Landis occasionally plays wonderful licks on the cliches, as in an original take on the familiar vampire-burning-up-at-dawn shtick, but like his earlier movies (An American Werewolf In London, The Blues Brothers) this keeps self-destructing on a story level. Of all entries in the recent vampire cycle, this is at once the most hung-up on horror history and the most revisionary in its rewriting of the mythology.

The boys put in fine performances but sadly the script lacks the depth of what could have been a challenging story.

A family comedy lacking the double level of humour that make the modern ones so successful. The jokes are obvious but never very far away. Russell puts in a worthy performance as the irrepressible Ron and Martin Short is typically neurotic as the father.

Largely, real emotions are substituted here by people swearing and trying to kill each other, which adds up to a shamefully dehumanising piece of work.

Intelligent and witty ensemble rom-com for the grunge generation.

Excellent performances from Pollack and Davis in particular, make this one of Woody's finest of the 90s.

For all the blasphemies and British accent, Pinhead is just a sub-Freddy goon, and the ambiguities and perversities Barker is so fond of have been neatly tidied-up. This is the sort of picture teenagers in malls in Akron, Ohio might understand — a good horror sequel, and that's all.

A very neatly plotted blend of elaborate heist and twisting thriller, peppered with amusing gags and smart one-liners for its top class ensemble.

An over-strung last act aside, this is funny, brilliant and sickening all at the same time.

The quintessential Lynch. Prepare to be confused/intrigued/frustrated/disturbed/hooked.

Less pompous than Pet Sematary, this has moments of trashy vigour but is scuppered by a consistently wretched script, Mary Lambert's knee-jerk direction and the usual redundant sequel air of utter pointlessness.

A screwball comedy, with two well-cast leads, with a pre-Sex and the City Parker and a amusing Cage. The plot is ridiculous but enjoyably so, with enough jokes to carry it for an hour and a half and a relatively fast pace prevents you from seeing the holes in the story.

By the time the deathwish duo embark into mountainous terrain, you'll want to hand them a copy of Thelma & Louise's road map —with clearly marked directions to the cliff.

Offbeat, stylish and packed with some wonderfully bizarro moments.

Fluffy thriller, with moments of unintentional humour.

Former US sitcom staple Ritter breezes through his undemanding role with gormless bewilderment, reacting rather than acting, while Dawber screams and hollers as the special effects - the film's real stars - bounce them from one side of the screen to the other.

Altogether, this is as fine a piece of craftsmanship as one could expect of Eastwood, with Hackman and I Freeman's performances standing out, and given the sombre tone there are entertaining surprises and even some good laughs to be had.

Brazenly exploitative stuff, stirring in anything which has done the business in kids' movies previously, this, of course, should have its target audience laughing like drains.

As the body count mounts, De Palma blurs the line between fantasy and reality with gleeful affrontery, creating a dazzling tapestry of visual cheats and narrative trickery which propels his scarcely credible characters and ludicrous plot - involving multiple personalities, babynapping and homicidal maniacs - through to its nervy conclusion.

This spoof vampire flick's sole joke is that the heroine (Kristy Swanson) is a blonde, L.A. airhead rather than a beefed-up stake-toter, mentored by Donald Sutherland's deadpan Watcher.

Both leading ladies display great willingness to send up themselves and Hollywood, and Willis' quiet nervous breakdown showcases his previously unguessed-at comic skills. But it's the pitch-black comedy and celebrity satire that make this so enjoyable.

While Landau, Aiello and a brief appearance by Christopher Walken do perk things up, it's a tediously indulgent, redundant work.

Genuine fun for adults and children alike.

Gas Food Lodging's poster sums up everything the movie isn't about. In a woeful effort to put a sexy spin on proceedings, lone Skye and Fairuza Balk stare out with dodgy come-hither pouts, and the tag line ("When Shade's good she's very good, but when Trudi's bad, she's better") succeeds, with just a dozen words, to undermine the integrity of the whole damn shooting match.

With a slew of body swap films in the late 80's it was expected that this would be another one to fall by the way. Except with a promising script by newcomers Rene and Craig and strong performances from Ryan, Baldwin and Walker, it manages to be more memorable than most.

This is cornily predictable stuff, but it raises itself on a number of counts, with Murphy's transformation from a self-assured cocksman to bewildered, lovesick drip being approached with greater gusto than might be expected.