Unabashedly frank in its depiction of sex -- too frank, probably, for more discreet viewers -- but it's never exploitive or seedy.

No matter how much good will the actors generate, Showtime eventually folds under its own thinness.

It's that very savagery -- not its love-can-conquer-all theme -- that makes Harrison's Flowers worth picking.

Even the women in Festival in Cannes feel more like sketches than fully realized people -- the aging actress, the naive hopeful, the newly minted starlet -- leaving you nothing but the showbiz satire to chew on.

Most of Wells' details are there, and so is the basic premise, but the soul of the thing -- the point -- is missing.

It's fun to watch the stocky, scowling Ice Cube and skinny, jittery Epps play off each other; they click on screen.

We Were Soldiers feels strangely irrelevant -- a well-acted, well-crafted and inconsequential visit to woefully familiar territory.

An important and interesting story, but the reform school itself never seems terribly harsh.

The quality writing, delivered by likable Hartnett and his talented co-stars, makes up for the sometimes flat production. A richly humorous background is provided by well-played eccentric minor characters.

The best story here is the one about how Stolen Summer made it to the screen; that's more compelling than anything that happens in Pete's world.

Disappointingly straightforward remake.

While Cacoyannis' film may not be totally faithful to the master's pen, for literature students and theater lovers, this Cherry Orchard is a rare treat.

The original rock songs on the soundtrack, which are supposed to make Lestat ''bigger than Elvis,'' are terrible -- a common challenge for movies about fictional musicians.

Ebullient, joyous film.

No atmosphere, no tension -- nothing but Costner, flailing away. It's a buggy drag.

The movie's exploration of prejudice within the military is certainly on target, but it's presented with all the finesse of a classroom civics lesson.

Young girls are the only ones likely to enjoy this vapid road-trip movie.

Mesmerizing.

As handsome and playful as the movie often is, it's another example of the let's-further-exploit-a-hit genre.

Schwarzenegger doesn't at all seem too old for the part; his bulging muscles still fill the action-hero's suit just fine. It's what he's doing that is tired and, maybe, played out.

Shakespeare purists may scoff and wonder what the point is, but Morrissette would probably shrug and say ``Why not?''

Plentiful helpings of dreadful acting, confusing action cinematography, choppy editing and embarrassing dialogue, with the added bonus of a plot almost as dumb as that of the original film.

Won't make you forget Kidman's better work, but it's not a film you long to excise from your memory.

Lack of any real substance.

Despite its stylistic flaws, the acting and the magic of the story make Maelstrom a different kind of film.

While the film is undeniably melancholy, Moretti's trademark light touch keeps it from becoming overbearing.

An exhilarating visualization of Alexandre Dumas' classic novel of betrayal and vengeance.

Though beautiful at times, it doesn't reach the level of poetry of either de Sica's "Thief" or Lou's "River."

Better than its trailers indicate. Forget the seemingly silly Chapstick moment: Any film that sends a cold shock to your system is doing something right.

The film is well-scrubbed of anything resembling sexuality, more a nonthreatening fairy tale than the romantic drama it aims to be. Its appeal flies straight to the hearts of 13-year-old girls.

A Disney family film, with all that the term implies: It's playful, corny, silly, adventuresome and enjoyable.

Dogme films don't have to be bleak to be effective. They can be -- imagine! -- fun. Scherfig may have taken the discipline in an entirely new and welcome direction.

Even if the whole of Orange County is less than the sum of its parts, Jack Black is not the only thing to like about this movie.

Lacks the one element that the filmmakers were most desperately aiming for: A genuine sense of fun.

The kind of schlocky, disposable time-killer that once might have starred Jean-Claude Van Damme, The Impostor is a relentlessly dull chase flick with an inexplicably high-toned cast.

An overwhelmingly tactile experience. Scott brings you so close into the action, the grit and smoke and blood seem to spill off the screen and into your head.

There's only one excuse for the sentimental and ham-handed I Am Sam, and it's not to tout the rights of the mentally disabled.

Dark Blue World's warm story and beautiful photography almost hits the mark, and it has a great ending.

Profoundly hopeful and optimistic film.

So deliciously absorbing and well done.

The charm of Jimmy Neutron is that it's both futuristic enough to intrigue kids and retro enough to hook their parents.

How High is not a particularly good movie, but then again it's not trying to be. It's a project by two B-list rappers seeking to extend their music careers in the way of stars like Will Smith, Ice Cube and Tupac Shakur.

Doesn't sugarcoat the painful realities of Alzheimer's or the difficult decisions faced by relatives of its victims, but by film's end, its clear-eyed melancholy winds up feeling strangely uplifting.

Winds up suffocating you with its aura of bogus, store-bought nostalgia.

The best scenes in the movie belong to James Belushi.

Jackson's dazzling vision turns the story into a real movie-movie -- one that, unlike too many fantasy films today, is genuinely transporting.

A biopic that is as messy as the life it details.

First and foremost, Iris is a magnificent story about the enduring bond between two eccentric, astounding souls who somehow managed to find each other and hold on for dear life.

There's some genuine suspense in Lantana, including one unbearably tense moment that is worthy of Hitchcock. But the movie's most unnerving aspect is the way in which it suggests true happiness may be impossible to regain once you've lost it.

Once you're among them, the Tenenbaums -- and Anderson -- cast quite a spell.

The world's newfound familiarity with the region's troubles only make Kandahar more compelling.

The cleverness begins and ends at the basic fact that it is being done. Really, it would be much more fun just to rent one of the originals.

An involving, sweetly touching love story, buoyed by Crowe's natural, poetic dialogue and his knack for writing characters (especially women) who feel like real people instead of plot devices.

An engaging and powerful portrayal of puberty gone awry.

It's a warm, skillful excavation of what look like ordinary lives, ones that aren't so simple once you dig a little deeper.

A searing, heartbreaking metaphor for the futility of war.

This time, the actors don't seem to be making up the movie as they go along, and they're guided by a gifted director who has earned the right to have some guileless fun.

Who would have thought a German comedy could be light, charming and devoid of intellectual snobbery?

Even though The Business of Strangers loses its nerve in the third act -- you'll wish Stettner had dared to push things further.

The conflict (in Afghanistan) makes this updated Rambo-esque thriller seem at once dated and yet relevant in ways its creators could not have envisioned.

Excruciatingly unamusing.

Romantic comedies don't have to be profound when they are as appealing as this one.

After a leisurely first half, The Devil's Backbone becomes utterly spellbinding, its tension mounting in steady increments, its story taking one dark turn after another, and its bittersweet resolution destined to haunt you long after you've left the theater.

If you like guessing games, don't miss it.

The movie asks tough, unflinching questions about America's responsibility to maintain world peace -- and the price we are willing to pay in order to accomplish that. Timely stuff, indeed.

The result is less an examination of the porn industry than it is a portrait of Jeremy's own humanity, with all its quirks and eccentricities.

A funny and constantly surprising exercise in comic tension.

It's a very busy movie, designed to appeal to short attention spans, and it leaves you feeling full, but not satisfied, because it's missing the most important ingredient of all: genuine magic.

Not the kind of documentary that will appeal to a large number of moviegoers. Yet it makes perfect sense that it will be shown on the campus of University of Miami, famous for its strong medical school.

Who would have thought one of the best things about the new Farrelly brothers' movie is a cameo by Tony Robbins?

Carries a whiff of disappointment: There's little here Mamet hasn't done before, and done better.

When one actor plays both hero and villain, the viewer knows that what is being shown is not an authentic dance.

Ultimately feels like tiny films glued together by events that often test plausibility. The idea wears thin soon, and some of the characters and their tales get lost in the unstoppable domino chain.

Movies like Monsters, Inc. literally make you feel like a kid again, marveling at the joyously inventive sights before you, and that's a feat that should not be taken lightly.

At two hours, the movie is probably 15 minutes too long -- the final half-hour in particular could have used some trimming -- but complaining about having too much of a good thing makes one sound like a grouch.

The movie is pure product, and proud of it: There isn't a single surprising moment in all of its 88 minutes, because Domestic Disturbance is designed to stick to tried-and-true formulas, instead of shaking them up a little.

As a whole, it's a bit of a mess, the work of bratty geniuses with talent to spare, but unsure of what -- if anything -- they're trying to say.

It's all very "Cuckoo's Nest," but in a glib, facile way, and it leaves K-PAX adrift in its fuzzy, New-Agey orbit.

On the Line's cutesy premise is no more ridiculous than that of most romantic comedies.

Makes for a compelling comedy-drama about family ties. It's only when the cancer takes center stage that the movie feels like a wash.

The set design of Thirteen Ghosts may have been expensive, but its thrills are cheap.

Director Ernest Dickerson uses elegant visuals, suspenseful editing and lighting to give Bones its edge.

You may be drawn to Intimacy's graphic scenes, but you'll emerge convinced there's more to life -- and the film -- than sex.

This film and Miller's vision remind us of the danger of giving in to fear.

There's no bite or sting, nor is there a single moment when the film is anything close to scary. It isn't ever engaging, either; it's a dull, sluggish bum-out.

Often feels choppy, as if chunks of connecting narrative had been lopped off in the editing room.

What's lacking is any sense of Beverly's brightness. She's supposedly smart, but she never displays a shred of intelligence.

Might have been unbearable if Linklater hadn't filled it with so much self-deprecating humor, undercutting the pretentiousness whenever it threatens to become too thick.

Bandits isn't much more than a pleasant dawdle, one made extra-likable by Thornton and Blanchett, whose ace performances keep the film zipping along even at its most predictable.

The movie is a lowbrow showcase for an equally lowbrow comedian, and how much of it you can endure depends entirely on how you feel about Kattan.

The creative vigor of its originality, distilled in a pure and unadulterated form, is simply exhilarating.

It just requires an open mind, a love of film and a willingness to dream.

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

Realistic, it's not. But Max Keeble's Big Move, predictable though it may be, makes most of the right moves for the older elementary/younger middle school market.

Eclectic, grandly engaging documentary.

Joy Ride is also surprisingly funny, thanks mostly to Zahn.

Even if the movie loses its nerve at the end, that doesn't take anything away from Washington's performance.

Serendipity's finale is a perfect crowd-pleaser, sweet and unlikely and over the top.