Definitely worth a chance: although everyone in this fog-shrouded setting makes grand sacrifices, all you'll lose are a few tears.

In the tradition of "Sunrise" and "Eyes Wide Shut," crises set the characters on a kind of dreamy, nocturnal journey through chaos and fear.

Pandering and tired, Down to Earth lurches from one dead gag to the other, in search of both comedic rhythm and a dramatic pulse. It finds neither.

A frenetic spoof of 1961's disastrous Bay of Pigs invasion, Company Man is likely to be forgotten quickly by audiences.

For 8- to 12-year-olds and the grownups who love them, Recess is a pleasant Saturday-matinee diversion. The fact that it doesn't aim to be anything more is, in its own way, a blessed relief.

Charlize Theron has charm and skill, but no actress could survive this role, which has the gravity and verisimilitude of a sketch from a late-sixties Nancy Sinatra TV special.

The Taste of Others takes regular (but not ordinary) people and knocks them out of their usual zones of activity. The resulting collisions leave behind a very pleasing flavor.

Less would have been more, and this film is sabotaged by its maker's unchecked pretension.

Chaotic, peurile, loaded with sniggering commentary and obsessed with breasts, Saving Silverman is like a 90-minute walk through a 13-year-old boy's head.

The nuanced performances by Maud Forget and Lou Doillon help give Bad Company its extraordinary credibility.

Unlike the original, Hannibal may make us hide our eyes, but it doesn't get inside our heads.

It's a masterpiece, a sublime tone poem that shows what cinema is capable of when it tries to do more than just tell a story.

It's not bad; it's just completely inconsequential.

Everyone will be indifferent, as indifferent and uncaring as the characters the film portrays.

Watching Left Behind's plodding screen adaptation may make you feel the Deity has already abandoned us to a shockingly dull post-apocalypse.

The film isn't very good. The Million Dollar Hotel is an uneasy melding of Hollywood shtick and art-house sensibilities.

Valentine simply mines the same tired, predictable slasher-movie vein as everything else he's (Blanks) done thus far. Send this one back unopened.

This lightweight concoction can't justify a trip out to the multiplex, unless you're a girl between the ages of 12 and 17, but it does provide a launching pad for a group of attractive people.

Mandy Nelson's sugar-high bright-'n'-cheerful script takes a series of easy ways out, avoiding completely the prospective pitfalls of having to see any of these characters as complicated, contradictory, not entirely nice or identifiable-with -- actual human beings, in other words.

It makes us realize, suddenly, and with immense regret, what the rest of contemporary cinema so sorely lacks.

She (Lopez) wipes away the unpleasant memories of "The Cell," and serves notice to Julia and Sandra that there's another girl out there who can do romantic comedy-even of the half-baked variety.

Sometimes feels like an acting class gone berserk, with Penn indulging his high-powered cast

It's possible that Ritchie's most important asset is the comic constant within his characters' existential dilemmas. To a man (and, indeed, they're all men), Ritchie's anti-heroes are at odds, in either large or small ways, with their own natures.

It's not just bad, it's ugly. Not just stupid but really aesthetically displeasing. The sooner this movie disappears from sight, the better.

By no means any kind of masterpiece, but viewed as one might any number of American or European independents of similar theme and nature, it not only stands its ground, but is at times one or two notches better than many of them.

Breaks virtually no new narrative ground, yet treads the familiar territory it does cover with grace, style, wit and fun.

A crap film that's steeped in liberal paranoia, but it's also so ludicrous that it falls under the guilty-pleasure category.

This director's (Winterbottom) reach is impressive, but this time it doesn't quite grasp.