An authentically spirited popcorn movie.

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.

The result is fantasy that wafts away.

The Company You Keep at least manages to maintain an audience’s interest for a solid 80 percent of the film. The ending is a slight flop, which keeps the film from an overall recommendation, and in the stark light of day, it seems fairly evident not everything adds up.

For every poignant moment there’s a gaudy dream sequence, wretched internal monologue, ham-fisted zoom or an exchange of dialogue sorely lacking nuance.

Too slow-moving and too understated in much of its humor.

Sometimes star power alone can keep you from walking out of a movie, and this is one of those times.

Sunshine's historical reference-heavy narrative walks a fine line between novelistic tragedy and comically overstated melodrama, falling down on the job more than once.

(Smith) seems out of his depth in this talky, rambling religious satire.

It’s half of a good movie, and another half that no one asked for or wanted.

Given the enormous praise, the film falls short.

Carrey's performance, and Forman's lively attempts to ask serious questions about the nature of comedy, keep it interesting. Certainly it's never dull.

Ross might have been better served by dismissing verisimilitude altogether and going for a real fable-fable to make what is essentially a very simple point about the dangers and rewards of accepting life's beautiful risks.

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.

The story, ultimately, is about the classic conflict between a desire to cherish and protect one's unique gifts from a brutal world and a more practical instinct to compromise beauty.

This mild but amusing comedy wasn't written by Levinson, and the accents may be different, but the feel is similar.

Like "American Beauty" without the fangs - or the magic.

Utterly lacks the spark that makes caper movies fun.

It all coalesces in a TV-level pleasantness, which isn't quite enough to fill a big screen.

There are tones of 1970s shaggy realism that are interrupted by moments of character-driven shtick. The wistful scenes aren’t rich enough to engross you and the comedy isn’t clever enough to make a difference.

Like the melancholy remininces of an old relative who lived through an exciting, even harrowing time, but no longer possesses the mental faculties to really flesh out the tale they're spinning.

A sort of "Pretty Woman" for the underworld.

A Mexican film that reaches for a very weird and risky tone, and, I think, fails.

The lack of chemistry between he (Yun-Fat) and Foster is truly striking: so much so, in fact, that the strain of trying to manufacture some keeps her looking on the verge of outright illness throughout.

Lacks dramatic tension and fails to bring this great music alive. It does not sing.

More aggravating than endearing, although there’s an interesting idea buried beneath all the cutesy plot details.

Emperor may not be the most dazzling of history lessons, but it never treats the past as a dusty, deserted place.

Hateship, Loveship suffers due to its dedication to an oddly unsettling type of earnestness.