The truth is, Jet Li has gotten soft in his old age. While fans of the "Once Upon a Time in China" star will be pleased to learn that at least half of Fearless is action, what they may not realize is just how mushy everything else is.

It's almost impossible not to respond emotionally to this fascinating, sobering and all-too-brief exploration of the politicized religious right and its hopes, dreams and power.

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.

The camera work is impressive, his sense of humor sharp, and the characters are well defined. The story leaves something to be desired, but that doesn't mean you won't find situations or lines to enjoy in the comedy. [20 Oct 2006, p.G15]

Beautifully crafted, intricately plotted and obviously a labor of love. It is also a mess.

Gridiron Gang is not imaginative, but neither is it painful to watch.

When it comes to exploring our peculiar blindness as to what's important in our lives, the film is a disturbing but accurate road map.

Flowers' ''style'' suffers from attention deficit disorder, leaving just enough vital information for you to follow the convoluted plot. But just when one story gets rolling, he's off and chasing another.

In Keeping Mum, the writers poke gentle, broad fun at the absurdities of English country life and manners while creating a cozy malevolence that's all the more engaging because it lies so far from reality. We know we mustn't murder our loathsome neighbors. But how much fun it is to imagine that we might.

Listening to O'Reilly, Anne Coulter and others vilify Franken -- and vice versa -- is part of the dialogue that makes America great.

Ends up as colorless as Reeves' first Superman suit.

The movie is basically a love story between a man and his elephant, and if viewed as such, it's not nearly as ridiculous as the movie it first appears to be.

Don't try to figure Emilia's family out. Just sit back and let this family scrapbook move along.

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

Sober, this kind of material is an acquired taste at best and downright unbearable in stretches. And yet, the movie has the makings of an instant cult classic, sure to grow funnier among its devoted fans with each successive viewing.

A mess, but an energetic, convivial mess.

True to form, How to Eat Fried Worms forgoes flatulence jokes for positive examples.

One gigantic pile of cornball clichés, but there's no denying the movie works you over anyway.

Veteran director Manuel Gomez-Pereira (Boca a Boca, Between Your Legs) falls short of the manic screwball farce he was aiming for.

Neither as good nor as bad as you'd hoped it would be: It's just a mediocre exploitation picture with an inspired premise (succinctly spelled out by its title), loads of gratuitous gore, a dash of equally gratuitous nudity and enough inanities to make you wonder if Ed Wood rose from the grave to serve as a creative consultant on the project.

Even if you're willing to overlook the preposterous plot holes in its premise, Accepted pushes its luck in its final half-hour.

The Illusionist is dogged by an inert, stale aura that overcomes everything and everyone in the movie.

The film makes coupling look less like bliss and more like an exhausting series of skirmishes that can send one party scurrying into infidelity or out the door in search of something better.

Once in a great while, a film of insight and wisdom defines a generation. Step Up is not that film. Instead, it's the sort of mildly entertaining movie that comes along a couple of times a year.

In House of Sand, shifting sands are not a cliché; they provide the essential emotional and visual elements that make this film memorable.

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

Eventually, though, the monsters come out -- blind, snarling cave-dwellers, looking much like Gollum's bigger kin -- and The Descent becomes a simple exercise in guessing who, if anyone, will survive.

Loud, sophomoric and stunningly crude.