Gosling continues to prove he may the best actor of his generation. His performance in The Ides of March, following his comedic turn in "Crazy, Stupid Love" and his portrayal of a stoic loner in "Drive," proves this actor is capable of practically anything.

Haynes is clearly gifted; his film is certainly troubling. But it's also wickedly funny in spots and deft with its lampoon in others. Watch this guy. [06 Sep 1991, p.G10]

FernGully -- The Last Rainforest is pretty much what you'd expect, only better. It's an animated feature aimed straight at kids and bulging with environmental consciousness, well made and just scary enough to get its point across. [10 Apr 1992, p.G5]

Touching.

The movie comes to rest on Voight and, to a lesser extent, on the views of the train itself, which looks great thundering through the snow. Voight is nearly as impressive in appearance, tricked out with some menacing scars and a gold tooth, and he gives his part a reading quite unlike his previous work. [22 Jan 1986, p.D7]

Despite moments of intense suspense and glints of bizarre horror, Tom at the Farm is ultimately a psychological thriller.

Video-game-come-true plot is corny, but somehow it works. [13 July 1984, p.D10]

This mostly upbeat crowd-pleaser soothes the audience with glistening harmonies and familiar songs and doesn’t always handle the ugly past simmering just below its surface gracefully.

There's no denying the intelligence at work here, or Braff's skill at weaving off-the-wall humor and sight gags into a story that, at heart, is profoundly sad.

One true gem is Daniela Piepszyk, Mauro's teen neighbor, who is a fireball and the leader of the neighborhood gang of boys. You can't take your eyes off her.

Unlike Pedro Almódovar's "What Have I Done To Deserve This?," which focused on a similarly harried wife and mother who reached her breaking point, Alice's House does not leaven its heroine's plight with dark humor. Nor does it offer any easy escape route.

Radford's 1984 is a time of relentless oppression in every corner of life, and his images -- corroded, soiled, darkly corrupted -- speak of Orwell as eloquently as the characters. [15 Mar 1985, p.D6]

Here is a film in which nothing is at stake: Cars crash into each other head-on at high speeds, vehicles sail off cliffs and tumble down rocky mountainsides, people jump out of buildings and fall six stories to the ground, then characters just dust themselves off and continue as if nothing had happened. Even Wile E. Coyote wasn't this resilient.

If ever there was a textbook "feel good picture," this is it. It's not a bad film, either, but director Nick Castle is afraid to let anyone go home without a glazed respect for all living things, and the result is too much syrup. [26 Sept 1986, p.D11]

The very premise is a test of one's tolerance for the cutes. The rest of the film is merely strange. [6 Apr 1984, p.D1]

Despite moments of ludicrous contrivance, the script offers an often-engrossing study of a lone wolf ensnared by both good and evil. It gives Fishburne (Boys N the Hood) the chance to bring his thoughtful presence to a leading role. And it gives Duke a chance to display his burgeoning skill. [16 Apr 1992, p.F5]

The movie ultimately plays as a dead-on snapshot of the much-maligned post-Baby Boomer generation. In 10 years, Reality Bites might seem dated and irrelevant. Right now, it feels remarkably astute. [18 Feb 1994, p.G5]

Stranger Than Fiction may not be the typical crowd-pleaser, but it's a sweet, funny, intelligent film that showcases just how much Ferrell can do, even when he's doing less.

In the end, the highly manipulative Arachnophobia succeeds because it plays off our deepest fears and dramatizes that most common of nightmares in which man is pursued by a ravenous, largely unseen evil. [18 July 1990, p.D1]

The performances are all terrific - Stillman gets his actors to latch onto his absurdist vibe, then gives them wonderfully rich dialogue to play with.

The screenplay is fiendish, clever and airtight: Like a magician, Coimbra uses sleight-of-hand, but he never cheats, and the film is even more engaging on second viewing, when you really know what’s going on before your eyes.

Nowhere Boy is great at depicting the birth of Lennon's love for his art.

Desert Hearts offers its central romance virtually free of moral clutter. Deitch tries neither to justify her characters' actions nor to place them in the context of the "forbidden"; she deals instead with intimacy, pieces of their lives. [18 Apr 1986, p.D5]

A wild buckle-up-and-blast-off adventure that plunges every corner of kids' favorite subject.

The latest Christmas-tree movie from director Wes Anderson, who makes pictures so carefully appointed and decorated, they sometimes feel like they're made to be looked at instead of watched.

Driver's over-the-top Jewish Canadian Princess performance is so stereotypical it's downright embarrassing in a film that otherwise treats its imperfect characters with respect even when they're at their worst.

Kids will eat it up, while solid voice work from William Shatner and Wanda Sykes should keep this borderline-feral toon from pushing adults over the edge.

For the story of a man who made his mark on pop culture by being a likable buffoon, the irritatingly arch Confessions of a Dangerous Mind takes itself way too seriously.

Being allowed to film in Russia was a blessing and a curse -- Schepisi weighs down the film with endless pans and traveling shots of neoclassical and Russian baroque architecture. All those buildings, monuments and squares. [21 Dec 1990, p.G5]

If Soderbergh set out to make a galvanizing conversation piece, he has certainly succeeded. But this cold, occasionally dull movie practically defies you to embrace it.

Fierce, profane and hilarious comedy.

As a piece of storytelling, Fight Club is a bit of a dud: It's a good 15 minutes too long, and the tension doesn't build the way you wish it would.

It doesn't ask much of anything except that you come along for the ride. Riding with Byrne is pretty much a hoot. [09 Nov 1986, p.K1]

Reveals little about the personal aspects of the deeply troubled man behind the sunglasses -- it naturally deals with none of the darker aspects of Jackson's life -- but it deftly underlines his commitment to showmanship.

This is an intentionally fanciful, gossamer movie, extremely personal and heartfelt, influenced in equal parts by Michelangelo Antonioni (although never so elusive) and Gus Van Sant (just not quite so self-conscious).

A very complicated movie. It is also pretty wonderful.

Blanchett manages to project the idea that there’s more to this woman than mere banal evil. Cinderella may well be the heroine of this story, but if you wanted someone to have a few drinks with, you’d pick her stepmother in a heartbeat.

Alice is certainly handsome to look at, and as usual Allen's camera is placed impeccably -- if he's overrated as a screenwriter, Woody Allen has yet to receive his due as a director. Still, what's wrong with Alice is in the script, and Allen wrote that, too. [25 Jan 1991, p.G5]

Condon and screenwriter Jeffrey Hatcher reward your patience by bringing the threads together in a beautiful, stirring manner that celebrates the genius of the literary icon while also honoring the man McKellen is playing.

The best stuff comes early in Ruby Sparks, which was written by Kazan (granddaughter of Elia) and directed by the husband and wife team of Jonathan Dayton and Valerie Faris (Little Miss Sunshine).

The Witches of Eastwick is a diverting, impeccably polished and excellently cast movie. But its charms fade fast, about as fast as it takes to leave the theater. [12 June 1987, p.D1]

Director Kim Jee-woon's astonishing story of a serial killer who picks the wrong man's fiancée to murder, is so extreme and intense that it had to be trimmed down in its native country before it was released to theaters. We lucky westerners get to see it in all its hair-raising, stomach-churning glory, and that's a wonderful thing.

One of the scariest films I've seen in ages, although I cannot in all honesty explain exactly what the movie is about.

Tupac Amaru Shakur is riveting in Tupac: Resurrection. The rapper is a compelling, charismatic hero: articulate, well-read, politically radical, and movie-star handsome to boot (he in fact starred in Poetic Justice and Juice). Make that, was riveting.

The Journey of Natty Gann is one of those dead earnest, richly satisfying "family adventures" with which the Disney name has long been associated, despite the fact that the studio has made very few successful ones. It's the kind of film we think Disney is supposed to make, regardless of whether the studio actually does. [25 Oct 1985, p.C1]

A straightforward, earnest, sentimental picture: It's all the things you'd think a Sept. 11 movie directed by Oliver Stone would never be.

It's a fine ensemble, and one mark of how well it works is that The Breakfast Club leaves the confines of the library only three times, and yet we never feel claustrophobic. We just feel trapped, like the kids. For much of the film, one or the other is speaking of parents as the alien life form they represent -- "When you grow up, your heart dies" is the bitter slogan -- and that feeling of being trapped by youth and yet terrified to leave it informs the movie even at its most raucous. For getting that one element, Hughes deserves a great deal of credit; for getting it into a "grown-up" movie, Hughes deserves more work. [19 Feb 1985, p.C4]

Innerspace suffers from a problem afflicting many of this summer's movies: excess. First, it's too long. Then director Joe Dante (Gremlins) piles on the gadgetry and the inside-the-body special effects, and the movie buckles. [1 July 1987, p.D1]

The story is far from finished; the film can't help but feel like a bridge to its end. But the power of that partnership forged in "The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo" remains strong.

Despite the fact that the film is not graphic, you won't want to watch Darfur Now over dinner with your family. But you probably should anyway.

As a war drama, Zelary is as gentle and pastoral as its setting. At times, you think it's a new chapter in "The Sound of Music."

Make no mistake, Racing With the Moon is a modest film; that's one of the reasons it works so well, being a meticulously made miniature. And it's a joy. [28 Mar 1984, p.C7]

The film is filled with scenes about scrappy, cut-and-paste filmmaking, and the movie-within-a-movie that drives the plot also ends up as the centerpiece of the hugely affecting final scenes.

Engaging and enjoyable.

This is easily the funniest of the Terminator movies (although not, it should be stressed, the lightest). It is also the shortest and most compact.

Rising above simple sentiment to explore class differences and the enduring clash between East and West with wit and wisdom.

The excellent performances by the three leads, and the filmmakers' refusal to sugarcoat reality, elevate the film far beyond after-school special territory into something far more lasting.

The movie could have used a few more scenes focusing on Child at work in the kitchen -- a few more scenes with Child doing anything, really.

Whedon knows this is all nonsense, but it can be great fun, too. Age of Ultron is all rush and sensation with little substance. But what a feeling.

Evans – always a reliably dynamic and vivacious screen presence – can't do much to bring the character to life. As far as superheroes go, Cap remains a bit of a stiff.

After starring in a string of heavy dramas, Andy Garcia lightens up and goes for the funny in City Island, a breezy comedy that fits the actor like a güayabera.

It's a glossy, somewhat condescending comedy, with all the substance of a cone of soft vanilla ice cream.

If watching cartoon characters spout four-letter words is your thing, this might well be the greatest movie ever made.

Beverly Hills Cop is an old-fashioned movie; it's a star vehicle. And the star makes it worth the price of admission. [5 Dec. 1984, p.B1]

Diary of the Dead is at its best when Romero is just goofing off, like when he shows us home video footage of a children's birthday party.

White Hunter, Black Heart looks good, but it's as humorless as Eastwood himself increasingly appears to be. [21 Sep 1990, p.G5]

War is hell, and so are bad movies about war.

Campos, a cinematic disciple of Stanley Kubrick and latter-period Gus Van Sant, opts to let the movie do the talking for him. The fact that this is a film of few words only adds to its hypnotic, relentless pull.

Thanks to a superb cast headed by the popular Brazilian actress Regina Casé, this unorthodox tale is ultimately believable.

Neither man nor mouse nor any other critter has a prayer of holding his/her/its own once the real star of the sequel shows up: Snowbell, the worrywart feline voiced by Nathan Lane.

It's a clammy, depressing movie, but not a very illuminating one.

There's a streak of compassion in Dark Horse, a sincere empathy for a thoroughly detestable man, that is as surprising as anything in Solondz's earlier, more transgressive work.

The movie is long and sad, but it also seems small. You get the feeling that, like the lives of its protagonists, it could have been more. [11 Jan 1992, p.E1]

Polanski, who seldom has a problem with directorial conviction, falters here. He tries to gives us Alfred Hitchcock, without much success. Frantic works best when Polanski delivers Polanski -- that sharp-edged vision that injects a harrowing situation with black humor, even slapstick. [27 Feb 1988, p.B1]

For a good hour, Seven Psychopaths is lively, bloody fun. Then the yawning starts.

The magic of the film lies not in the mysterious spring but in the richness of its performances. The producers have assembled a cast with three Academy Award winners.

When the action founders on cliches and implausibilities, there are only the characters to fall back on. And this time, they're papier-mache. [13 May 1983, p.C2]

The movie is happy and bright and thoroughly nice, and every now and then it's loud and funny and at least as large as life. And it could have been larger, and better. [22 Feb 1983, p.C5]

If you do decide to take in Q & A, prepare to leave it with many questions unanswered. [27 Apr 1990, p.G5]

In its best moments, the movie works much like an inspired episode of The Twilight Zone, raising provocative What if? questions about human nature that linger long after the end credits. [30 Aug 1996, p.5G]

A whimsical and light-hearted spin on a serious story of corporate whistleblowing.

Almost certain to polarize audiences, this bit of emotional agitprop plays like a watered-down "Short Cuts" or "Magnolia" with a shrill, one-note message: We're all a little bit racist.

Don Jon is nominally a love triangle between a woman, a man and his laptop, but the movie is much more thoughtful and substantial than that, and it takes a compassionate and humane approach to all of its characters, even when they’re at their most despicable.

White Palace is formula stuff, but it succeeds on the strength of performances, a clever script and thoughtful direction by Luis Mandoki. [19 Oct 1990, p.G11]

As the movie breathlessly cuts back and forth from a boisterous wedding celebration to a high-stakes soccer match, even the grumpy cynics will have been won over.

Nolan, who has become an assured, stylish filmmaker in the span of only a few films, keeps the complicated plot spinning.

The movie is at its best when Spurlock dives deep into his subject, interviewing directors such as J.J. Abrams and Quentin Tarantino.

Don't let your brain interfere with your heart, says Albert Einstein -- yes, that Albert Einstein -- in I.Q., neatly summing up the message of this sprightly romantic comedy. It's a movie with an inventive premise that works better than you'd think. [24 Dec 1994, p.J3]

Truth should have felt like a tragedy, a story about a monumental but fascinating failure of journalism, the flip side to the upcoming Spotlight, about the Boston Globe’s Pulitzer Prize-winning investigation of sexual abuse within the Catholic church. Instead, Truth wants to make your blood boil. It succeeds — but not in the way the filmmakers intended.

The filmmaker may not appeal to large numbers of filmgoers. But if you get his humor and delicate style, you'll enjoy his latest work.

When he means to be funny, Balaban has a wicked way about him. When he means to scare, he's just like the rest of the pack. Still, there's something wonderfully subversive at work in Parents. Be warned. [17 March 1989, p.11]

As formidable as Kingsley is, Elegy wouldn't work if his object of obsession wasn't worthy of him.

A joyful romp, devoid of the tiresome pop-culture references.

Director Pablo Trapero ( Lion's Den), like so many contemporary Argentine filmmakers, reserves the bulk of his wrath for a country whose authorities and judicial systems have been so grossly corrupt there appears to be no way of correcting them.

Perhaps the most surprising thing about Stardust is that its most winning element is neither its delightful story nor its special effects but its sly sense of humor.

A slightly dull film by photographer Sam Jones.

Ferrell's shtick never grows tiresome, because it's constantly changing.

It is almost completely devoid of any trace of humor. It radiates a luxurious, all-encompassing mopeyness.