If anything, the film is a reflection of the Web zeitgeist, where observation comes easily but insight is rare. What saves the documentary from becoming a complete frustration is the sheer, stunning prescience of Harris.

Starring an ideally cast Patton Oswalt in the title role, Big Fan is a poignant, dead-on character study, an examination of a crisis in the life of the most die-hard of die-hard New York Giants football fans.

What you won't feel is genuine horror, because unlike John Carpenter -- whose original 1978 film is a sly game of nerve-racking peekaboo -- Zombie isn't out to engage fans of the genre with a slaughterhouse bonbon like "Halloween II."

It's a frustrating complication of a movie with a sprawling story and grand ambitions -- and some truly grand acting -- that stumbles almost as often as it soars. Bummer.

Clocking in at 2 hours and 32 minutes, it is unforgivably leisurely, almost glacial, a film that loses its way in the thickets of alternative history and manages to be violent without the start-to-finish energy that violence on screen usually guarantees.

For all of its cutting cynicism, "Dad" proves unexpectedly moving in its portrait of a middle-aged man leaving childish things behind.

A joyless fluffball about after-college job woes with a dispiriting message for smart young women.

The problem with Shorts is in the execution. The blown-up plot line at times derails even the little ones, the many fine comedic grown-ups are mostly squandered, and the "message" part of the movie feels like it was thrown together during detention, resulting in a wrap-up that is rushed and cloyingly PC.

A fascinating hybrid of a film. Even though its purpose couldn't be more serious, its style could hardly be more pulp.

Terrific performances and an array of kinetic action scenes help distinguish Fifty Dead Men Walking from the seemingly endless stream of films about Northern Ireland's infamous era of sectarian violence known as the Troubles.

Ultimately, Five Minutes of Heaven is stronger as a whole than its individual parts. It's a well-performed piece that perhaps required a more calibrated hand than Hirschbiegel's proves here.

An uneven thrill-circus display that too often feels like TV writ large and loud rather than the kind of cinematic reimagining that defined the surf-flick genre.

One of the main treats of Art & Copy is that it allows us to revisit those classic ads, all of which are just as exciting now as they were when they first ran.

The 1950s suit Zellweger, as does the film.

Had it been crafted with a bit more depth and finesse, writer-director Piyush Jha's involving thriller Sikandar"might have had the potential to reach beyond the average Bollywood import's core audience. Still, the film boasts a significant story with several effective plot twists that make it worth a look.

Van Peebles' persona and sensibility remain engaging, as do his way with his beguiling score and songs, but his film desperately needs tightening to eliminate tedious moments, especially in the African sequence.

A comedy with just the right blend of satire, social comment, myriad complications, romance and heart-tugging to give it some deft shading and variety.

This small gem of a movie always feels true and real as it gently reveals the quiet moments that define our lives.

Not the supernatural horror picture its title suggests, but this subtle, elliptical film evokes its own kind of nightmarish situation.

District 9 is very smart sci-fi, but that's just the beginning; it's also a scathing social satire hidden inside a terrific action thriller teeming with gross aliens and regrettable inter-species conflict. And it's a blast. . . .

You'll be planning to see Ponyo twice before you've finished seeing it once. Five minutes into this magical film you'll be making lists of the individuals of every age you can expose to the very special mixture of fantasy and folklore, adventure and affection.

When the film's fate rests on the alchemy of its stars, you really don't want to get that wrong. But here, chemistry is a problem, and it proves a significant one.

The Goods motors along choking out enough lowbrow laughs to make for an agreeably nutty late summer ride.

There is a sense of sadness around Earth Days, a sense that opportunities were not capitalized on, that not enough was done.

Grace doesn't need a high body count to frighten, although its gore is stomach-turning. It's a horrifying meditation on the unbreakable union of mother and child.

In nearly every moment, an incredibly rich mix of their music, groundbreaking, defining, which alone would almost be enough. That It Might Get Loud comes with a righteous story too is a lovely bonus.

If only Spread were half as entertaining as a Van Halen video.

A brilliant, often grotesquely bizarre allegory on life in Hungary from World War II to the present.

To Twohy's credit, he does a decent job of keeping you guessing -- and interested -- until almost the very end.

A consummate entertainment that echoes the rhythms and attitudes of classic Hollywood, it's a satisfying throwback to those old-fashioned movie fantasies where impossible dreams do come true. And, in this case, it really happened. Twice.

Somewhere between the rabbit-hole absurdist comedy of Charlie Kaufman and a navel-gazing Woody Allen film is the somberly humorous indie Cold Souls.

The action is mostly brisk and bracing and the battleground, particularly Cobra's headquarters -- a vast network of tunnels under the polar ice cap -- are wonderfully imagined, as are the futuristic machines at the Joes' disposal. Basically, the Joes are not bad, it's just that they could have been much better with a little less conversation, a little more action.

Beeswax has a rhythmic quality, and it eschews conventional plotting for sharp observation of human strengths and foibles.

Self-discovery always comes with a cost, and in Bliss the price is a great one. It is mesmerizing to watch it unfold in the lives of these two young people.

The movie's not without charm -- the creature effects are fun and the mix of vampires, zombies (et al) is amusing. That's not enough to save it from the Curse of the Predictable Plot Twist and the Blight of the Creeping Shadows.

At best, they entertain in a "people say the darndest things" kind of way. But they do support the notion that people still fall in love and find a way to make it work for a lifetime, which is about as happy an ending as you could wish for.

Entertaining portrait.

Any sort of new insight into comedy's darker themes, to say nothing of life's, eludes Funny People. Instead Sandler and Rogen and the rest are left to wander aimlessly, with tedious comedy gigs, an even more tedious faux sitcom and relatively vapid relationships masquerading as a plot.

A powerful and effective piece of advocacy filmmaking, but it's difficult to watch it without thinking of subtitles like "The Place Where Evil Dwells" or "The Little Town With the Really Big Secret." Which is no accident.

Are you hungering for that rare vampire movie with serious intellectual heft, ravishing undead, biting passion and a healthy splash of irony as well as iron in all that spilled red blood? Wait no longer, Korean auteur Park Chan-wook's Thirst should satisfy.

Perfectly calibrated for the pre-adolescent set, highlighting broad physical comedy and themes of kid empowerment and featuring one of the stars from "High School Musical."

Either you go for this sort of extreme, senseless gore or you don't. With its plot and lead performance, The Collector is, at least, an unusual specimen.

A gritty, deceptively low-key, no-fuss, no-frills movie of consistent originality and surprise in which suspense arises straight up from the heroine's evolving character.

It's a kicky, slightly exhausting look at a bygone era of low-rent moviemaking, whose colorful trove of film clips should delight fans of cinematic esoterica, nostalgic schlock and high octane drive-in fare.

A deeply involving look at people living permanently on the knife-edge of danger, Flame & Citron does more than radically rethink the World War II resistance drama. Its biggest accomplishment may be to make these historical conflicts and dilemmas seem surprisingly contemporary.

Gotta Dance is a feel-better movie. Warm and cozy with just the tiniest dollop of tension.

Subtlety and nuance mark both the film's dialogue and performances. It's hard to see how Dancy and Byrne could be any better.

You, the Living suggests that we would do well to discover the joy we find in each other that so often goes along with the pain.

In the Loop is no precious show dog. It's a snarling, frothing little beastie straining at its leash.

Clocking in at more than two hours, the movie teeters between psychological horror and violent blood-letting and, as such, probably won't completely satisfy fans in either camp.

Conveniently, everyone wears their symptoms on their sleeves, but because the characters are so haphazardly drawn, their pain remains elusive to the end.

Ironically for a film revolving around psychotherapy, Shrink doesn't stand up to analysis.

Something seldom seen: an original romantic comedy.

It's intelligent, provocative and intensely dramatic. Its subject matter may be tough but it is as powerfully authentic as anyone could want.

Death in Love is occasionally pretentious but always riveting. Strap yourself in, especially for those gruesome flashbacks of Nazi medical experiments -- this is one endurance test that's worth the effort.

This one-of-a-kind film cycle has become as comfortable and reliable as an old shoe, providing a degree of dependability that's becoming increasingly rare.

A funny and endearing character comedy whose extra-brief, 70-minute running time proves perfectly adequate for its slender, episodic story.

Like a wayward love child of Lenny Bruce and the Three Stooges, Brüno is an idiot savant of penetration -- breaking through borders, boundaries and anything that resembles good taste on his way to whipping up as much cultural anarchy as he can. I would guess Brüno is holding on to an R rating for this sublimely spicy soufflé by the skin of his, well, let's just not say.

Unlike a lot of institutional raunch in today's comedy, Humpday finds laughs out of what is rarely made explicit between buddies.

Blood's only surprise is that the filmmakers landed Gianna (also known as Gianna Jun, or Jeon Ji-hyun) for the lead. The South Korean megastar proves a more-than-capable action heroine, despite the creative detritus around which she has to navigate.

Not a remake -- it just feels like one.

A vibrant and joyous new documentary.

You can reliably forecast most of the beats in Blayne Weaver's breezy romantic comedy Weather Girl, but that doesn't diminish the small pleasures the movie delivers.

Entertaining, nostalgic and well-organized documentary.

This is a film with a mission: Get to the grand-gesture climax without disturbing any clichés in its path.

A lovely bit of memory and mischief.

Simultaneously an art film and a crime film, Mann's latest work may not give you a ton to hang on to emotionally, but the beauty and skill of the filmmaking keep you tightly in its grasp.

A sometimes lively, sometimes listless wilderness adventure that will keep the kids cool and mildly entertained for a little while.

Overwhelmingly tense, overflowing with crackling verisimilitude, it's both the film about the war in Iraq that we've been waiting for and the kind of unqualified triumph that's been long expected from director Kathryn Bigelow.

There is always a fine line between moving and manipulation in telling heartbreaking stories, and it is here that Cassavetes largely fails us. Where restraint might have raised up My Sister's Keeper, a heavy hand has brought it down.

If you believe that bringing the questionable virtues of "American Idol" to Afghanistan would do that beleaguered nation no favors, the remarkable documentary Afghan Star will change your mind in an instant.

Michelle Pfeiffer is back, and her reappearance in Cheri, her best role in quite some time, underlines not only how much she's been missed but also how much the world of film has lost by her absence.

While Giovinazzo's crude approach undercuts his occasional stab at gravitas, "Cracktown's" cast keeps things in the ballpark of relatable humanity. Best of the lot is Kerry Washington.

The Stoning of Soraya M. goes well beyond its angry didacticism and its specific indictment of men's oppression of women to achieve the impact of a Greek tragedy through its masterful grasp of suspense and group psychology, and some superb acting.

At the end, all is horrifically explained, the body count inflates, yet hardly anything makes sense. In Papa Lynch's films, little is explained, yet because he's so gifted at mining our deepest fears and scariest desires, logic is excused.

Kabir Khan's New York -- part Bollywood potboiler, part overwrought examination of the war on terror -- is a slice of the Big Apple that you should skip.

Exhilarating or excruciating, depending on your point of view.

A sour romantic comedy, only sporadically amusing.

Just a good old-fashioned romance, one in which people actually bring out the best in one another rather than the worst. How novel is that?

There is no real plot either; instead the narrative seems designed to get this prehistoric pair from one funny sketch to the next, which sometimes works and sometimes doesn't.

Less than the sum of its parts. The connective tissue of its episodes and set pieces -- some of which pack a memorable punch -- is not a compelling story line but the painterly physicality of the movie's stop-motion animation.

Any horror movie with the moxie to play Tchaikovsky's "Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy" during a zombie attack can't be all bad.

An apocalyptic documentary that is as beautiful as it is damning.

Frightening, powerful stuff.

Try as they might, the filmmakers never hit the outer reaches of imagination that both Kubrick and Bowie did. Which is not to say the film completely implodes into a black hole either.

Essential viewing.

So professionally done you rarely have the luxury of taking your eyes off the screen.

In his illuminating, timelessly timely Sex Positive documentary, Daryl Wein calls attention both to unjustly neglected pioneering AIDS activist Richard Berkowitz and his still widely ignored groundbreaking promotion of safe sex.

Best when exploring the nitty gritty of N'Dour's life as a musician, favorite son and cultural ambassador.

In Tetro, nearly every time Coppola should have clung to intimacy, he opts for excess. Especially tedious are the meta excerpts from staged productions -- overcompensation trying to masquerade as illumination. Regrettable since there is such fine work being done in the smaller moments.

There is a sort of perverse brilliance or brilliant perverseness to be found in this story of a bachelor party gone terribly wrong.

What makes Seraphine, directed and co-written by Martin Provost, so exceptional is that it neither condescends to nor romanticizes its subject.

A self-satisfied film about insecure people, a quirky and episodic comic drama that squanders its genuine assets and ends up not as special as it tries to be.

Like its characters, the film keeps getting lost too, stumbling as it struggles to keep kids and adults from squirming in their seats.

Doesn't skimp on the life lessons or instant transformations. But the movie primarily exists to give amiable Everywoman Vardalos the chance to regain her kefi.

The dramatic payoffs are either nonexistent or overly manipulated, and for a journey that starts with so much deep-set pain and regret to end with a sentimental twist feels, to use a phrase anathema in Carey's world, off-key.

The Vogels' story is a very specific one, at once more unexpected and more moving than it might seem at first.

Its privileged glimpse deep into unfamiliar spiritual territory has the strength of revelation.