Entertains but never quite engages.

Part chopsocky action, part romance, part hokey fantasy, Dragon will please anyone open to a well-made, if superficial, Hollywood biography, a "biopic-lite." [8 May 1993, p.G5]

Pfeiffer is the antithesis of the girl next door: You just have to look at her to know that she was born to be bad.

Evan Almighty may not be enough to make you shout ''Hallelujah,'' but it's not the cinematic equivalent of a plague, either.

Kline salvages the picture with his dynamic, utterly unpredictable performance -- the work of a highly skilled comedian thrilled by the opportunity to go nuts once again.

Green Zone is just an excuse for director Paul Greengrass to haul out his jittery hand-held camera as Miller and Co. sprint through the streets and buildings of Baghdad in pursuit of one villain or another.

Whether you'll enjoy this loud and rowdy remake of a 1974 Burt Reynolds film depends on your tolerance for three things: football, Adam Sandler and unabashed product placement.

Innocence is a gentle love story, one that touches on an issue of great sensitivity -- sexuality in old age.

My Father, the Hero is an entertaining coming-of-age comedy. [4 Feb 1994, p.G4]

Just may be the most entertainingly derivative movie of the millennium so far.

Robocop 2 is as funny as it is loud, and nearly as smart as it is gross -- though the latter quality does win out, particularly in the climactic brain-squash sequence. [22 June 1990, p.G5]

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]

It's a sturdy Streep vehicle. [11 Nov 1988, p.C1]

House of Wax won't give you nightmares, but it upholds teen horror traditions with flair and energy.

Croc, as played by the sinewy and appealing Paul Hogan, may be a fish out of water, but he's a formidable comic hero, a kind of Outback James Bond only less perturbable. And this sequel is actually a better film than the original, which was one of the movies' least likely success stories in 1986. [25 May 1988, p.D1]

Vaughn and Favreau are a dynamite pair, and there's enough give-and-take between them to satisfy any diehard "Swingers" fan.

You can’t shake the feeling the script is trying too hard to please, upping the drama despite the fact that what made the first film so enjoyable was its relative simplicity.

Part 1 does something that no other previous Twilight movie had achieved: This one draws you close and keeps you there.

Excels at bringing on the high-power pyrotechnics.

As slight as the picture is, though, its hero is an indelible creation.

The production values are downright dowdy. Creepshow looks more like Cheapshow. Yet the strong writing offsets the film's weaknesses. Creepshow 2 may not have the major-league excitement of The Exorcist or Aliens, but in its own right, it succeeds. The persistent screams from the audience tell you that. [13 May 1987, p.D7]

The message in Spanglish is thoughtful and astute; it's the delivery that could use some work.

Year One is not really THAT bad and not ENTIRELY without laughs.

It's a perfect role for Jolie, whose seductive looks always seem to be concealing something dangerous, even predatory, and she brings out a looseness in Pitt, who fares much better in comedic roles than when playing things straight and stoic (i.e. Troy).

When Ephron gives Ferrell and Kidman a musical number that's supposed to be sweet and uplifting, the movie feels downright creepy.

There was a fine family drama to be made here, but what we get instead is too sweet to swallow.

The movie is sloppy and scattershot, and proud of it. It wears its slipshod, anything-for-a-laugh structure like a badge of honor: Smith is nothing if not self-deprecating.

Directed by Russell Mulcahy (the Highlander movies), the movie never generates enough suspense to keep the storyline moving. The visual effects are splashed about carelessly, weakening the would-be climactic showdown. [01 Jul 1994, p.G5]

Six years after its release, "City of God" is still electrifying and fresh: It hasn't aged a bit. City of Men, though, already feels strangely stale.

Supergirl was directed by Jeannot Szwarc, whose previous big credit was Jaws II. The two films have something in common beyond their status as sequels to successful originals; both have a curiously flat, almost stale feel about them. And both are as disposable as Supertissue. [21 Nov 1984, p.C1]

It's much easier to linger on his youthful idealism than on how that idealism eventually manifested itself. It certainly makes for a much prettier picture. But when your subject is Ernesto ''Che'' Guevara, it is disingenuous.

Crazy People is one of those sky-high-concept titles, you know? A film with that title had better deliver, had better be stone crazy, wacky to the bone, nuts. With a title that blunt, you don't want to wind up with warmed-over farce of the sort that used to cast Dudley Moore opposite a tall, blond beauty....Uh-oh. [11 Apr 1990, p.D1]

A psychological thriller in serious need of both psychology and thrills, Cassandra's Dream is a wan, exceedingly minor drama by Woody Allen, who has started to recycle himself in London the way he had long been recycling his New York City pictures.

Frothy as it is, SATC2 is best when it's about the women, not the wardrobe.

The film's opening credits are terrific, and the first 10 or 15 minutes -- in which Ford and Arthur speedily load up on beer at the local pub -- are absorbing and funny. It's such a promising start that it's doubly deflating to realize that once they land on Zaphod's spaceship, the humor vaporizes.

Late Marriage's stiffness is unlikely to demonstrate the emotional clout to sweep U.S. viewers off their feet.

Next begins to seriously embarrass itself and its stars -- except for Biel, surprisingly, who manages to escape with a shred of dignity, possibly because her role requires little beyond looking gorgeous -- once it rolls to its climax.

Douglas' performance is surprisingly dull, and he has a script to match (by Diane Thomas). Moral: Remaking Raiders is harder than it looks. [04 Apr 1984, p.B6]

While Circuitry has its pleasures, it's not as intelligent as "Modulations," a previous documentary on the subject, and its focus is a bit skewed.

If you're making a movie that purports to be about real love, at the very least, you have to make the audience care whether the lovers work out their problems.

Smart People tastes as fake as a Wal-Mart corn dog. Besides, it doesn't even know the work is Faerie Queen, not ''Fairie.'' Somewhere, Edmund Spenser is turning in his grave. You don't even have to be smart to know that.

Despite its entertaining and insightful dialogue, can also be a bore.

This is also the first of the s-and-s films to give sex nearly equal time with disembowelment, a story concept we can only cheer. [6 Sept 1983, p.B5]

Under Siege is never at all convincing -- everything about the battleship (except the exterior shots) seems small and understaffed. There are supposed to be 30 bad guys, but they appear to outnumber the crew, and the interior scenes of the battleship's command stations are barely more ambitious than Star Trek's bridge. [12 Oct 1992, p.C3]

This is precisely the type of moviegoing experience engineered for those who still get a laugh when the Baha Men hit "Who Let the Dogs Out?" accompanies a doggie mayhem montage.

It's an exploitation B-flick with a grade-A cast. [17 Mar 1995, p.5G]

Turns resoundingly dumb in its last 40 minutes.

Beaches is the never-less-than-maudlin soap opera about two childhood pen pals who meet again as adults, enjoy triumphs and endure failures, and wind up watching their story climax via a Fatal Illness straight out of Terms of Endearment. It's what used to be called a "women's picture." [13 Jan 1989, p.C5]

Suffers from a fatal lack of purpose. This sleek, visually inventive but frustratingly flat movie is made up entirely of throwaway bits -- occasionally amusing, even ingenious bits. But still, they're just bits.

The biggest offense in the somewhat unimaginative but serviceable legal thriller High Crimes is that the venerable Morgan Freeman simply does not get enough screen time, and when he's up there, he doesn't have enough to do.

Certainly pleasant, and occasionally endearing, but it's also strangely empty and unsatisfying, like hearing about someone else's wild dream: You can appreciate the details, but you don't really care how it turns out.

Great actors can do more than carry a movie on the strength of their performances: They can also elevate it to a height it does not necessarily merit, and for much of In the Valley of Elah, Tommy Lee Jones does exactly that.

Like binging on a bottomless box of truffles: Tastes good and sweet at first, but after a while, you start feeling a little green.

Emotes mightily but says precious little.

If only director Shawn Levy and the screenwriters had gone for cute and interesting instead of dull and cloyingly sentimental.

Aside from the thin characterizations, The Eagle never manages to convey the importance of the heroes' quest.

A formulaic and didactic but good-hearted and sometimes amusing underdog sports yarn and plea for social acceptance.

The best scenes in the movie belong to James Belushi.

Teachers is more or less entertaining, but TV tactics are too diffuse on the big screen. America is still waiting for someone to produce a school satire with some teeth in it. [05 Oct 1984, p.C9]

Bottle Shock often feels out of place on the big screen, but it would probably play a lot better as a weekly half-hour TV show.

The Star Chamber has the slippery feeling of a movie made with optional endings, and the narrative sag of pulled punches. You can tell it was meant to be a thoughtful action picture, a B-movie with smarts. But it's too slick, and ultimately it's too careful. [6 Aug 1983, p.7]

Parker is flashy and gory and fun as usual. If only there were more to the thing. Then Angel Heart might not seem so dumb. [06 Mar 1987, p.D1]

The entire movie rides on Paul Kaye's performance.

The Brothers Grimm gives you plenty to look at, but it's not much to see.

A continuous parade of slaughter.

A filmmaker like John Sayles ("Sunshine State") who shares Hiaasen's issue-conscious outlook might have framed the lesson a bit more eloquently. But Shriner blows it.

Classy voice work (intriguingly, the hero, heroine and villain are all voiced by black actors -- Chris Rock, Brandy and Laurence Fishburne)

The best performance in Three Men and a Baby is given by the baby, played by twins Lisa and Michelle Blair. They are wonderful. The movie is not. [25 Nov 1987, p.D8]

The movie is an exceedingly slight tale whose entire second half consists primarily of special effects and wonderful set designs.

There's terrific, spontaneous chemistry between Sandra Bullock and Denis Leary. Watching them bounce lines off each other is one of the biggest pleasures of Two If By Sea, a helter-skelter concoction that's part romantic comedy, part heist film and part New England travelogue...But Two If By Sea (which Leary also co-wrote) is a mess in the story department, with so many different elements competing for screen time, its stars' considerable charm ends up too diluted. [15 Jan 1996, p.5C]

An artsy bore.

Although the picture is nominally the story of a man with a murderous temper, it is less a thriller than a metaphor for the plight of illegal immigrants.

This laborious, talky, fleetingly engaging, ultimately silly picture is about as good a movie as anyone was ever going to wring from Dan Brown's inescapable bestseller.

Dragonheart is a silly, foolhardy epic, a movie so thoroughly misconceived it's as if its creators set out to make a big, expensive film few people would want to see -- and one that would frustrate those who did. [31 May 1996, p.5G]

Class Act is a comedy. A deeply flawed one, too: The last half-hour is a mess, as the sly gags of the early going give way to a seemingly endless and perfectly artless chase sequence. [05 Jun 1992, p.E5]

You can only string an audience along for so long with scary masks and sudden appearances at the window, and after a while, the suspense starts seeping out of The Strangers, because you realize that's all there's going to be to the movie.

If nothing else, Broken City manages to pull off a difficult feat: It's too convoluted to follow and simultaneously too simplistic to be believed.

The script remains the big problem, however -- all its roots are showing, and they are very old. In Lucy's day, a story like this would end with restoration of the comfy stereotypes -- Dad would get his job back at the plant, enhanced by his new appreciation for what Mom has gone through, and Mom would forsake her business success, more sure than ever that her place is at the sink. That's just what happens in Mr. Mom. In Hollywood, time stands still. [27 Aug 1983, p.5]

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.

The effort is earnest, but the plot turns more and more implausible.

Each of those fine actors has put in a performance or two; each has made a mark. Each has made a mark here, too, if one counts dark blots on the resume. Reynolds is good; they're awful. Perhaps this is because Reynolds was directing them. He may be too nice a guy. There must be a reason. [26 Apr 1985, p.D1]

Sobieski manages to make Jennifer's inevitable transformation more than a little bittersweet. Apparently even clichés click sometimes.

There's no real artistry to this: It's as though Parker has just seen "Seven" and suffered some sort of David Fincher flashback.

Compare Sylvia to another, more powerful film about a tragic literary death: "Iris," about Iris Murdoch's descent into Alzheimer's, leaves you with an aching heart and reddened eyes. After the equally sorrowful Sylvia, we are entertained but unmoved.

While We’re Young starts off as an empathetic, funny look at middle age and winds up as profound and schematic as a Neil Simon play — or, for the younger set, an episode of "The New Girl."

The Fountain is probably too muddled and half-baked to even attain cult status -- but you can still see what writer-director Darren Aronofsky was striving for, and even if his reach exceeded his grasp, his intentions were both admirable and worthy of respect.

By the halfway mark, even the most devoted Gibson and Foster fans will start wondering when the movie will do something beyond superficially showing off its stars. It's not until the end that you realize that's all Maverick has to offer -- and it's not enough. [20 May 1994, p.G4]

Where the book was preciously and carefully crafted, the movie just feels precious.

After a funny, highly promising start, Don't Come Knocking starts to fall apart, displaying all of Wenders' weaknesses, too.

Girls Town is a volatile little urban drama spiked with a dose of feminist outrage. [20 Sep 1996, p.6G]

The single redeeming feature of Child's Play is the manner in which the doll is slowly transformed into semi-human form. Scene by scene it turns into a half-pint, rubbery version of Jack Nicholson. And that's scary. [09 Nov 1988, p.D6]

The movie is pleasant overall and occasionally comes up with a big laugh. When the movie's over, though, it evaporates from memory, just like a one-night stand that didn't go nearly as well as you'd hoped.

The Good Shepherd, for all its noble intentions, manages to make even espionage boring.

The Ice Pirates is a Star Wars knock-off tricked out with cheesy special effects and nonstop gags, and it's almost entertaining despite itself. It's as if someone wanted to try the Airplane! formula on space epics, and nearly got it right. [20 Mar 1984, p.C7]

That's what happens when film noir goes bad -- and this is a failed noir, so packed with double-crosses and red herrings that after an hour or so you just get tired. Who did it? Who cares? Let's just head home and get some rest. We can try to figure it all out tomorrow. [24 Apr 1992, p.G5]

Unfortunately, there isn't enough of Brando and Kilmer: Too much screen time is eaten up by the monsters, plotting their perfunctory uprising against their creator. Worse, the confusing climax never comes close to fulfilling the promise of the opening credits sequence (the best of any movie this the summer). But The Island of Dr. Moreau has sublimely weird moments in it that are hard to shake, and for starved horror fans, nowadays you take what you can get. [23 Aug 1996, p.5G]

The film improves once the assassination attempt goes awry, but the audience is never truly invested in the actions of these heroic men.

Though there's some wit on the fringes (including splendid use of a Reagan stump-speech line), the whole thing plays a lot like a Miami Vice via Star Trek. [7 Oct 1988, p.E10]