A highly recommended treat.

Re-adjust the levels of cinematic hell, because "Porky's" just got bumped up a notch.

Jackman and Judd are sweet together, so much so that you wish they were in a fresher movie than this.

An unusually clear, compassionate, and grownup satire about a rare subject: the true psychological underpinnings of young manhood.

Hughley and Jones have an explosively comic chemistry together; her kooky, open-faced looks are a counterpoint to his whipcrack improvisations.

Hewitt's twin assets may be enough for a lot of moviegoers -- which may be the biggest con Heartbreakers pulls off.

I don't like Say It Isn't So, but I understand its karmic inevitability.

The small reward is the cool, confident presence of DMX, who shows signs of being a great leading man. But only in a much smarter, more original movie.

As he explains the male-male relationships and the absence of stigma or judgment, the film soars.

Though issues of politics and philosophy are touched upon, this is a film about the people inside the uniforms -- a story of human beings under pressure, forced by circumstance to make choices both impulsive and, on occasion, heroic. It's also the new year's single most satisfying movie experience thus far.

Despite the first-rate acting, the narrative is the star of this show, so much so that you feel yourself occasionally losing interest in the travails of the characters. Instead, you hang on every word and every tiny object, every cut and bruise in the frame, looking for clues that will help you make sense of what's going on.

If it weren't so pushy about selling itself, The Dish might have been a very special movie.

About two lives in which transformation is a constant, destabilizing threat to freedom and sanity. That's a very provocative premise, though halfway through the movie Doyle and Walsh abandon its potential to go for easy laughs.

The brainchild of English director Ben Hopkins, who takes his time getting going. Too much time, really, as the first hour passes rather antsily, without quite achieving forward motion.

Xiaoshuai isn't really interested in glamorizing or even exploring the gangster lifestyle; nor is he interested in conventional dramatic arcs.

The surprising part is how, once you get over the crude humor that the teen-movie genre demands, Get Over It is a nice little movie.

15 Minutes is simply a bad movie.

It's a superb example of the genre of the self-expressive documentary.

It may be possible that people who never go to the movies will stumble across Blow Dry and find it a charming way to spend an hour and a half, but the rest of us will have the ending written in our heads by the end of the first five minutes.

It may have a good liberal conscience, and genuine sympathy for the rare perspective of a homeless person, but this movie is a fundamentally sentimental exercise.

Smith puts the soul in the machine of Series 7, producing an emotional power too real for reality-TV to handle.

A quiet film, certainly, but it's filled with small touches that manage to get deeply under your skin by the time the final credits roll.

The filmmakers went for cheap laughs as well as for some a little harder-earned. The only thing pure about this film is the dog, and he's magnificent.

Doesn't have the courage or inclination to go inside of Dick's ideas, or offer any kind of structured or detailed approach to his thinking or writing.

What makes Hit and Runway uniquely fun, however, is the unapologetic extent to which Livingston and Cohen turn it into an index of beloved Woody-isms.

Has even less directorial initiative than it has romantic spark.

The film isn't merely bungled. It's starved and battered by Lichtenstein.

Looks like a very cheerful and imaginative accident.