If you're in the mood for fairy tales, you've come to the right place.

This is a beautiful, surprisingly uplifting movie, made by someone who actually understands people.

Will test your powers of attention. The effort is worth every minute.

Nearly incomprehensible story.

In short: Don't expect a lot of laughs.

It's a testimony to Tammy Faye's own integrity and enormous charisma that the film holds our attention as tightly as it does, and doesn't become an insufferable exercise in weak filmmaking.

Has a warm and intimate feel that helps push it a little deeper than its cable movie-of-the-week blueprint.

It has its moments.

Loses touch with its characters.

Has its own sense of logic and integrity that demand a kind of begrudged respect.

Kids -- may like this movie. But kids like green ketchup, so what do they know?

Silly teen thriller.

It's like one of the baker's cakes, handsomely rendered on the outside but lacking flavor.

A rich and challenging variation on the serial-killer genre.

A standard morality tale, and looks especially weak in the shadow of "Eyes Wide Shut" and "Fight Club," which it resembles.

Nearly the perfect balance between straight-faced pulp action and amused wonder at the outlandish world of comic books.

The film is very theatrical and admittedly "staged," but always purposefully.

One of the best films of the year. Queer in every sense of the word, it's poignant, laugh-out-loud funny and thoroughly provocative.

It's solid, if ultimately uninspired, July entertainment.

Everything clicks here.

There's something thin about the picture-both in its ideas and its visual texture.

Lyonne, as usual, does her best...but she's running uphill.

Destined to be remembered not for its laugh-per-minute ratio, but for breaking a barrier of crudeness in mainstream movies.

Once at sea, The Perfect Storm collapses in a heap of spectacle and a dubious piling-on of scary incidents.

Has some good throwaway gags -- but far too often, the moviemakers don't throw them away soon enough.

For me, Trixie finds its own peculiar groove, and-buoyed by a compulsively watchable actress-folds neatly into the off-center work of a distinctive American director.

Gibson's performance is robbed of his customary humor, and he flounders around in search of the character's core.

These film-making provocateurs are divided between sweet and sour, between the romance of classic screwball comedy and Mad magazine on acid.

All but guarantees that you'll want to see Chicken Run more than once.

We should expect more of summer fare than that it merely be a visual junk-food snack as we cool off in the chill of a darkened theater.

Shaft is a decent popcorn movie and Jackson rises to the responsibility of appearing bigger than life.

Has the edge of black comedy that defines Maclean's sensibility, but it also has a mature new sweetness. And it's certainly one of the best films about the life of an addict since "Drugstore Cowboy."

A gorgeous dreamscape of a movie...one of the most exhilarating experiences of pure cinema that will be offered this year.

There's something about The Woman Chaser that isn't quite thought through, in a basic way.

Audiences willing to wade knee deep in the muck and mire of the human abyss are advised to seek out Humanité at the local arthouse.

In the end, Butterfly is an infuriating film because it's so very contrived, so annoyingly phony.

It's insulting and devalues the experience of watching not just this film but all films.

The story of Groove... provides an ingratiating road map to a cultural phenomenon. Just make sure you drink lots of water while you're there.

Sunshine's historical reference-heavy narrative walks a fine line between novelistic tragedy and comically overstated melodrama, falling down on the job more than once.

These are good people, yet the director has them carrying on like community theater actors playing to the balcony. It isn't fair to them, and it isn't fitting for Shakespeare.

Appalling because it never transcends its adolescent-boy glee at being allowed entry to the highly sexualized arena of prostitution.

This film, a remake of a hapless 1974 cheapie of the same title, can't even get the big chase right.

If you're looking for something child-appropriate that'll actually keep the little darlings awake for two hours straight, you'd do better...and cheaper...to just stay at home with the Discovery Channel.

Grass is often closer to the sobering tone of the PBS show than it is to the silly "Weed," with its stoned, barely literate potheads discussing the quality of their dope.

So you'll laugh during Big Momma's House -- but the laughs are so negligible you'll probably forget them before you get to the parking lot.

Lets Jackie Chan have some fun, ride a horse and frolic in the American West. And when Jackie's having fun, at least some of it trickles down to us.

Questions loom heavily over this entertaining but not-too-deep film, making it more a commercial than real exploration.

Are two Demis better than one? How you answer will determine the level of patience you'll need to sit through this bizarre pet project.

It does... apply Kitano's black-comic style to a different setting, and individual scenes sparkle with unexpected jokes, twists, and occasional cruelties.

This anti-narrative screwball comedy, a sort of police-drama re-enactment of Fellini's themes in "8 1/2," keeps most of the jokes off-screen.

The problem is that the motion picture around these individual stunts is patently a committee-made artifact.

A cool movie and a must-see for anyone who wants to see the next stage in computer-generated animation. But it could have been so much more.

Has moments of terrific lucidity, even brilliance.

Feels like a first draft, in need of toning, pruning, and a little old-fashioned discipline. As an outline, the picture is full of possibilities.

But as objectionable as its subject matter is, the most objectionable thing is that it's not funny.

Mostly dreadful.

Gitai, a veteran documentary director, refuses to find an easy resolution to the story, and that will frustrate as many people as it pleases.

A dopey but sweet-natured I-love-to-dance film, fits nicely into the downhill-since-"The-Red-Shoes" tradition of ballet movies.

A black comedy that never gets black enough to inspire Farrelly-style decadence.

The film is Travolta's baby, but indifference and boredom is everywhere.

Hamlet, like its title character, is a mopey, dopey thing that you just want to scream at: Do something!

Stripped of the pretension of the overrated "Trainspotting," but it's also void of the earlier film's ambition or glimmers of real cultural insight.

Somewhere around the beginning of Hour Two, the narrative loses momentum, and Pino Donaggio's molasses-thick score begins to drag everything down with it. The ending also lacks the surprise twist that seems to be promised .

There is no obvious reason for the film's meandering existence: it's a series of beautifully photographed postcards of Africa.

Accomplished, ambitious, and great-looking.

The warm humanizing element in all the cool stuff is Crowe.

A perfectly enjoyable and occasionally charming ride.

Breaks no new ground and is tedious in the extreme.

Afailed attempt at a hipster screwball comedy. Very failed.

Disappointingly dumb.

Despite the frivolous feel, it's clear the director intends for Bossa Nova to be a love letter to his two passions: Brazil and his leading lady (who's also his real-life wife). Neither lets him down.

A One-Joke Show.

A fascinating combination of dare, stunt and genuine artistic risk -- often disorganized, but never less than entertaining.

Recycled "Steel Magnolias."

(Owen's) existential angst and the interesting layers of character and setting give Croupier a sharp, engaging edge.

Dumb and irritating.

A Melancholy Delight. Its pacing will undoubtedly seem too deliberate to some, but I found first-time director Deborah Warner's The Last September a delight from beginning to end.

In trying to avoid moralizing or cheap sensationalizing, Didier sidestepped any energy force altogether and his film snoozes because of it.

One sour note is Richard Marvin's derivative score. It's just awful and often pulls the movie down.

Subtle, strange, off-putting, fascinating.

It's Lathan -- with her passionate performance, physical grace and drop-dead-gorgeous looks -- who makes Love and Basketball so entertaining.

Too long, too predictable.

Fascinating.

It's little more than a loose assemblage of Hollywood action movie formulas: "Dirty Harry" and assorted cop/buddy flicks are the clear models for the movie.

(Herron) just doesn't make the case that this book was worth filming.

A reminder of why Bullock became a movie star in the first place.

Utterly lacks the spark that makes caper movies fun.

Stars the cult celebrity Om Puri, widely considered by cinephiles to be one of the best actors in the world.

Wargnier is also a lousy storyteller who seems not to understand how to shape a narrative.

It's hard to think of a single memorable line from Restaurant, even a memorably bad one.

It's the hardships that led to Atlanta -- and that he faced after -- that make his story so compelling.

Stays with you, though, not because of its political content, but because of the unexpected emotional punch that's thrown near the end.