The subtle patina of make-believe created by Sayles' directorial techniques gives Matewan an old-fashioned feel that separates it from the harsh, blood-and-guts style so popular among contemporary filmmakers. [09 Oct 1987, p.D5]

Something is missing in Roxanne. The greatness of Rostand's play was that it touched, underneath Cyrano's panache, a place of deep yearning, a heartwarming truth about human loving. Martin and Schepisi are satisfied with the shine. [19 June 1987, p.D1]

The movie tries its hardest to celebrate the impetuousness of its hero and the exhilaration of his accomplishments. Mostly, though, it just reminds you of the severity of his mistakes.

More than once during A Scanner Darkly, you find yourself wishing these characters would just shut up.

Style is the main attraction in The Limey -- it's as close to experimental filmmaking as mainstream movies get -- but the film works well when taken simply as a pure revenge drama, too.

The movie wanders off course in the final act, as if none of its three screenwriters could quite figure out how to end it.

Manages to turn an internal, solitary activity into fodder for an engaging, even exciting movie.

Only devout Dylan fans will be able to derive much sense out of it. Dylan novices can only sit back and surrender to the ride Haynes offers: It's a strange, surreal trip.

There's nothing wrong with remaking a classic, of course. But the movies aren't theater, where the relative economies of scale can mean countless versions of one good play. The movies are more rare -- so much money, so few chances. Sinise and Malkovich used this chance to remind us how good the story is, and in the process showed us how good they can be. I'm not sure we needed the reminder in the first case, and the second is hardly a revelation. [16 Oct 1992, p.G5]

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

Himalaya doesn't need a traditional story line to transport the viewer into another, fascinating world.

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.

Very French and at times threatens to dissolve into a steamy sex farce.

Achieves an assaultive intensity that adds a level of visceral excitement to car chases, mano-a-mano showdowns -- even simple conversations. It's a style that takes some getting used to -- the images flit by at near-subliminal speeds -- but proves tremendously effective.

The Proposition leaves you shell-shocked.

Lightness' greatest contribution will be to send people to Kundera's book. As a film, it is thoughtful and well-meaning but long and uneven. The filmmakers' love for their subject recalls a line from Kundera's book: "His love for Tereza was beautiful, but it was also tiring." That's what sitting through Lightness is like. [26 Feb 1988, p.C1]

Scorsese and Zimmerman seem to be building on Andy Warhol's proclamations about the nature of celebrity. What they've added is the sourness of it and the pointlessness, and their King of Comedy, for a while darkly funny, winds up being terribly sad. It's the most unpleasant fine film in years. [20 Mar 1983, p.L1]

Like most of le Carré’s novel, A Most Wanted Man has a veracity most spy thrillers lack, and the suspense is of the intellectual, not visceral, kind.

Even at his worst - and Robert does some awful things - the actor almost makes you root for him, hoping he'll get away with it.

This is minor Disney at best, forgettable at worst.

The results, for the most part, aren't pretty. The newly expanded Balseros, which adds an hour of footage to the previous film, is an even more compelling, if grimmer, work than the original.

One frenetic movie that doesn't know when to quit -- and leaves you wishing it could go on forever.

What distinguishes Spider-Man from most other comic book movies is that the film is at its most engaging when its hero is out of costume.

The Great Mouse Detective is destined to be a classic -- not just for the old-time quality of the animation, but for its general superiority over such recent Disney efforts as The Black Cauldron. [16 July 1986, p.D4]

This is nothing that a good episode of NYPD Blue hasn't shown myriad times.

Calling a comedy old-fashioned nowadays might seem like a backhanded compliment, but that's precisely what this genial, funny movie is.

Bayona is restrained here in terms of gore, but his landscape is a realistic vision of a hell we never hope to visit.

Like the best coming-of-age stories, I'm Not Scared (Io Non Ho Paura) is, in part, a work of horror.

Clearly an important film, if only for such disheartening reminders that a McDonald's salad with ranch dressing has more calories than a Big Mac or that Miami is the 15th fattest city in the country (Houston is No. 1).

By the time its open-ended conclusion rolls around, you've forgotten you're watching a "comedy." All you can see in front of you are complicated, impetuous real people -- and that's about the biggest compliment any filmmaker could hope for. [06 Feb 1997, p.5F]

Once you get past its intriguing title, What's Eating Gilbert Grape turns out to be a plain if beautifully photographed slice-of-life drama decked in eccentric garb. Beneath its veneer of oddball characters, it's a rather simple, essentially bloodless tale about life in Endora, Iowa, a tiny dead-end town. [4 March 1994, p.G4]

These two fine, talented actors share a fatal lack of chemistry together, and it's a flaw this grandly ambitious movie cannot overcome.

Best of all, the story moves as fast as that bullet train, careening from one impossible predicament to the next while the characters jostle to survive.

Expertly shot and choreographed in Eastwood’s clean, unfussy style, the Iraq sequences are taut, harrowing and at times excruciatingly suspenseful, particularly a setpiece in which Kyle faces off against his Iraqi counterpart, a superb sniper who has made it his mission to take down the American sharpshooter.

The strained, strange relationship between father and son ultimately becomes the emotional center of The Clan, culminating with an astonishing closing shot guaranteed to induce startled gasps. It’s a great, jarring moment that is the work of a filmmaker clearly in love with his craft — and a flavor for the darker side of human nature.

Suggests that professional wrestling is more than a multibillion-dollar industry: It's also a way of life.

In a film overstuffed with tragedy, the most painful one might be the gradual transformation of Fernando's moral and intellectual indignation into a weary, cynical detachment.

Zhang, who tried to make his actors as unaware of the camera as possible, lets the story evolve slowly and deliberately.

Enjoyably preposterous, old-guys-are-cool-too plot.

A mature, insightful and extremely well-acted study of a boy at a crossroads in his life, and a doomed, tortured man who, consciously or not, longs for some kind of redemption, before it's too late.

Takes one side, but it tries to offer hope that change can happen.

The Grandmaster sets aside traditional story structure in its last 15 minutes and becomes one of the filmmaker’s free-form visual poems, suffused with melancholy and compassion.

A Frenchman may have thought of the story first, but this Korean film pays tribute to the original while perfectly standing on its own.

The movie is supremely entertaining -- and often hilarious.

Cars is certainly watchable, and there's always some amusing bit of business happening at the edges of the frame.

De la Iglesia’s knack for offending audiences while showing them a good time is stronger than ever: Witching and Bitching isn’t much on substance or logic, but man, is it fun.

Roberts inhabits the character with a gravity and poignancy that she had never even hinted at before.

Scary? Yes, in spots. Gratuitously gory? You bet. But, first and foremost, Zombieland is a comedy.

Though far from perfect -- the film is predictable -- Satin Rouge is a refreshing view of a foreign culture.

The Lookout boasts some very interesting, original performances. They make this noirish, bank-heist caper intriguing, but in some ways they actually work against making it believable.

The Hangover remains unrepentantly irresponsible and hilarious throughout, culminating with what could be the funniest montage ever to grace a picture's end credits. The summer's first sleeper hit has arrived.

What Hunter does is to re-create, starting from the moments after the crime has been committed, the milieu in which its horrifying aftermath might plausibly have taken place. Without violence or suspense, River's Edge is horrifying. [29 May 1987, p.D5]

The wait for a great action movie is finally over. Mission: Impossible – Ghost Protocol is pure popcorn of the highest, most flavorful order, and it's good for you, too.

Celebrates a larger-than-life heroism that is, sadly, all too rare.

If Ray fails to present a genuine portrait of a complex man's essence, it does leave you with an even greater sense of awe for Charles' accomplishments, both in his personal and public lives.

It's like "Lock, Stock" as filtered through the mind of David Mamet, with Craig as the suave middleman holding it all together.

It is shameless, and I have the feeling that it is not always wholly honest with us or with its subjects. But it is so well made that we are compelled to forgive its sins. Only a cynic could deny its appeal. [22 Mar 1985, p.D10]

Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang is a movie obsessed more with the act of telling a story than the story itself, which explains why, when the movie's finally over, less than half the audience will have understood the finer points of the mystery.

Crossing Delancey is a sweet, sustained mood more than a fully realized movie. An ode to romance, Manhattan and mustachioed Jewish grandmothers, it charms and amuses but it doesn't satisfy. [16 Sep 1988, p.D1]

Certainly pleasant, but it's also a bit safe.

For all its splendor, The New World is really a love affair between Malick and his camera.

Hilarious and imaginatively crude with a surprising sweet and subtle aftertaste that prevents it from flopping, limp and brainless, into the sugary abyss of romantic predictability.

It digs deep into the heart and soul of its lovers, who are idealistic, intelligent and passionate - and yet still risk everything they might gain for stolen moments together.

Exuberant, often hilarious.

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

By retelling Glass' pathetic tale, Shattered Glass reminds you how our culture's emphasis on success and stardom in any field -- and the betrayal of ethics to attain them -- has a cumulative, corrosive effect on society, no matter how small the stage may be.

Cynics may not fall for its melodrama, but Riding Alone is good for everyone else, including children.

Contains all of the hallmarks of classic genre Spielberg: It shows you things you've never seen before, instills an accompanying sense of awestruck wonder, and delivers long stretches of heightened, delirious excitement that remind you why people started going to the movies in the first place.

Never really more than an amiable Cinderella story, but it leavens its subject with such heart, such idealism and such pure eroticism that it's nearly a total success.

Dench and Blanchett will likely pick up Oscar nominations; no one could improve on either performance.

Though Polyester is mild for John Waters, it remains a film not for everyone. But it is a satire of an energy and breadth rarely seen on today's screens. It is recommended, but only for the strong. [03 Dec 1982, p.D1]

Overflowing with melancholy and tragedy, Road to Perdition is one of the most somber gangster pictures ever made.

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.

Ceylan examines human relationships with an eye for details and a soul for the big picture.

The only real casualty of Lehane's novel is Angie, here reduced to a supporting player who bears no resemblance to the original character, who is every bit as smart and tough and interesting as her boyfriend. It's a regrettable loss in a film that otherwise indicates its first-time director knows what he's doing.

If you can look past all the flesh and the thongs and the thrusting - and I admit that is an almost impossible task and probably not one you'd want to undertake anyway - what's most distinctive about Steven Soderbergh's Magic Mike is its sense of fun.

Matilda, one of the darkest of Dahl's typically scary children's stories, has become a stylized, mordantly funny movie thanks to DeVito, who produces, directs and stars as Matilda's crooked dad. [02 Aug 1996, p.6G]

It showcases one of Whedon's greatest strengths: his ability to take previously disrespected genres - in this case the slasher film - and turn them inside-out and upside-down and every which way but loose.

Cassel, who won a Cesar (France's equivalent to the Oscar) for his performance, invests the character with a grounding of humanity and honor that imply there are certain lines even Mesrine would never cross.

Miami Blues is a neat little trick -- funny, tough, scary. This hurts to say, but it wouldn't be so bad to see a Hoke Moseley sequel. [20 Apr 1990, p.G5]

It's Depp's misfire that keeps the picture from becoming a genuinely sweet pleasure: As it stands, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory is the equivalent of NutriSweet.

By film's end, we're deep into Coen brothers territory, with an extra splash of Sam Raimi-level gore.

Using a semi-documentary approach, Glatzer and Westmoreland circumvent the considerable potential for sentimentality inherent in their story, instead taking a frank and direct approach to kids who, while far from hardened, are nowhere near innocent, either.

Time Regained is not really worth the time it takes to see it.

That broad range of subject matter is indicative of the messy, meandering structure of the movie. But if Moore fails to tie this unwieldy movie into a lucid thesis, at least every tangent he chases down has its own payoff.

Puts you on edge about what goes on behind the closed doors of the White House. Even if the case against Kissinger is not fully convincing, the documentary keeps you glued to your seat and thinking long after you've left the theater.

There's no doubt that Leigh gets inside his characters' lives. But that's often someplace we'd rather not be.

JFK is staggering in its power. [20 Dec 1991, p.5]

It's good work in aid of very little. Smithereens is often fascinating, but it is never satisfying. And by the end, when Wren seems about to be billed for her sins, it's hard to care much one way or another. [28 May 1983, p.D7]

In the House seems to be building toward a cathartic and unexpected finale. Instead, you get a baffling fizzle — an inexcusably limp and unimaginative conclusion that doesn’t bring a single plot strand to a satisfying end.

Exotica seems to be about lust for the flesh, but it ends up as something much more tender -- and deeper. [24 Mar 1995, p.4G]

Not about sex; it's about leaps of faith, at work, in love, in life.

This crowd-pleaser is a genuinely inspirational film, gorgeously filmed and wonderfully acted, echoing an uplifting sentiment that bears repeating: ''You don't throw a whole life away just because it's banged up a little.''

Beguilingly odd.

The screenplay for 7 Boxes is a beautiful example of how to craft a tense and increasingly complex thriller out of a simple scenario.

By giving the hero's inner plight so many dimensions, Superman Returns brings a richer, grander perspective to a seminal character without changing his essence. It's a profoundly personal take on a universal icon, made by a filmmaker who continues to improve with each movie.

"Our self-esteem is wrapped up in it,'' admits actress Tracie Thoms (who sticks with a natural curly look). "A woman's hair is her glory,'' Angelou says.

It's a movie of surpassing flatness, all surface, all monotone. Pace? It's as if the director, Alan J. Pakula, had dialed in half speed on the first day of shooting and never checked the throttle again. [27 July 1990, p.G5]