Moss -- in her first big role since "The Matrix" -- is the main reason to see Red Planet, a badly written and visually scenic space opus.

A bad movie about a great man.

A delight to the eye, ear, and mind

The result is fantasy that wafts away.

Glover and Bassett ground the film, in the flashbacks and in the body of the film, and lessen the riskiness of maintaining the play's theatricality.

Don't miss it.

Something rare: a mess of a movie that is somehow infectious, and infectious not despite the mess, but because of it.

At its core is a feminine realm (the beauty parlor) through which modern issues of alienation and casual-sex-as-a-drug are coupled with timeless questions about the natures of love and desire.

The worst thing you can accuse an unutterably bad movie of is sincerity.

By turns amusing, touching and horrifying, A Room For Romeo Brass is a film that defies expectation at every turn.

Doesn't have a lot to offer that hasn't been done better -- and worse -- in hundreds of ghetto-sink shoot-em-ups.

Hopefully, the next time around, Chadha's imagination will be in the service of not just excellent casting and directing, but a script to match those other cinematic components.

Ephron is still a director whose movies veer uncomfortably between the good -- make that adequate -- "You've Got Mail", the bad "This Is My Life" and the ugly Lucky Numbers. Pity.

It simultaneously wows you with the stark beauty of its images, a beauty that leads to another, related kind of truth that is equally crucial. It's not to be missed.

What keeps Stardom watchable is Arcand's droll humor.

For adults, the film will drag in spots, but it's filled with all those values you hope to instill in your children.

It's just another bad horror film with inadequate young actors chased around a big house by something.

What the film doesn't have, ironically, is a soul.

Undiluted Jackie Chan, not the watered-down stuff he's been doing stateside.

Don't be misled by claims that you've seen this one already. You haven't, and you should.

An odd, sweet and relatively innocuous little fairytale.

Spacey and company deserve better.

Altman is just as nastily misogynistic as ever.

God-awful.

It's a guy's film that doesn't just revel in testosterone, though -- it has a more purposeful agenda.

You'll feel moved and uplifted after watching this well-written, funny movie.

A clumsy and tone-deaf comedy.

An almost total waste of time.

The bleakness of the material ought to make Ratcatcher a depressing experience, yet Ramsay's power as an image-crafter transforms this grim universe.

A movie that keeps you wondering about its characters' true feelings and motives long after you've left the theater.

A sophomore writing-directing effort from former film critic Rod Lurie.

Sly, slick and slow.

An unassuming little film that packs a huge emotional and artistic punch.

More than a family saga, this is a family meditation.

A difficult, ambiguous film.

An assault on brain cells.

Infuriating on almost every conceivable level.

Delivers its humor with clockwork reliability.

Love it or hate it -- and I suspect, frankly, most people are going to hate it -- this is like no other film you've ever seen.

Silly in some parts, but sheer fun in most, Bootmen will get you wiggling in your seat with a big grin pasted on your face.

Kusama understands her subject intimately, and it shows.

A constant video rental for a community that aches to see itself as banal and generic.

This is a band that deserves better.

Simplistic and non-controversial, and thus is virtually guaranteed commercial success.

Beautiful is a mess, but not without interest.

Tight and quick-moving, the film scores its points and gets on with it.

A sweet, if slender, surprise.

If you've seen one "Scream" rip-off, you really have seen them all.

The visual fireworks and catchy score just underline the extreme superficiality of the material.

This is a film like no other this year, and on that grounds alone you should see it.

A decent, smart, well-acted film.

A terrible, tired piece of filmmaking.

It's a film in which nothing is at stake, that's safe and sentimental to the core.

Human Resources resonates because it restores the humanity to that dehumanizing title phrase.

Worth a look, even if it doesn't quite find the internal logic it seems to be searching for.

A heartfelt documentary.

The whole point is nothing more than the revelation that the terrain of suburbia is populated with damaged people inflicting damage on others. This is still news?

The plot is convoluted.

It gives the audience something serious to ponder. That's rare these days.

A mixed bag, all in all (casting Huey Lewis was not the best idea), but worth seeing.

You'll treasure this movie.

A tiny slice of bleak, black near-perfection.

I'm not sure how elaborately I could defend Pola X, but I loved watching it.

A terrific piece of neo-realistic filmmaking.

If you're already a huge fan of any of these artists, this film will be a lovefest. For all others, it's a mild diversion at best.

This fantasy-tinged romance leaves a distinctly bitter aftertaste.

A dismal new serial-killer thing.

Flawed at its very core.

We're forced to listen to misogynistic rantings devoid of wit, entertainment value, or even authenticity.

Authentic contemporary heroine.

Borderline incoherent.

Given the enormous praise, the film falls short.

Ambitious and perversely fascinating.

Enough pep in this picture to make it rise above teen-movie expectations.

There's nothing terribly wrong with the movie, but nothing terribly right about it either.

In many ways the indie equivalent of your average multiplex action picture: fun and forgettable.

Slick, polished to perfection, derivative and stripped of any of the real quirks or idiosyncrasies that make a romantic comedy fly.

A pleasant surprise that The Crew offers up the charms it does.

Fascinating noir, which will long be remembered for its extraordinary lead performance by Catherine Deneuve.

A fascinating portrayal.

A two-hour slice --of comedy pie.

Not quite Abbie.

What makes The Cell worth viewing at all is the carefully sculpted imagery.

Has its dull spots, and is unintentionally laugh-out-loud funny at times -- but isn't that what we expect?

Far from the worst film this summer, but it also doesn't rate strong enough to be a future video rental.

Hamstrung by a script that is too often smug, obvious and self-important.

Merely reconfigures the same predictable gross-out jokes, sentimental platitudes, and decorative sex that figure into half the screenplays in circulation.

A very small film, as they say in the movie business, but its stylish suspensefulness is nicely leavened by Connell's obvious, and welcome, love for his hapless characters.

When the film is sexy, it's truly sexy, assuming that you believe sexiness has something to do with the exploration of a connection between people.

There's a lost opportunity here.

Its series of quiet but moving realizations of the utter ubiquity of the Nazi horror in every single aspect of life, even something as hidden as a sexual sub-culture, is powerful indeed.

A crowd pleaser, but there's something a bit prim and pre-determined about its conclusions.

Coy, cutesy, sentimental, and shamelessly manipulative.

Director Gary Winick ("Sweet Nothing") ingeniously complements Draper's layered approach by modulating the film's energy in fascinating ways.

The problem is, director Robert Lee King has a hard time sustaining the aimed-for camp tone, and while there are a few well-spaced giggles to be had, the movie sputters more than it soars for most of its 95 minutes.

I really wish a younger man than Clint Eastwood had directed it.

An authentically spirited popcorn movie.

Maybe Kevin Bacon can use the Twinkie defense to explain Hollow Man.

(Ash and Russell) generate just enough tension to keep the audience interested.

Nothing less than stunning: a slapstick ballet of choreographed buffoonery.

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.