Mines a great deal of its humor from the can't-be-bothered attitude of British culture, but the jokes survive the trip across the Atlantic mostly intact.

Just one more in the plague of weak Cinderella stories released in the past year. It's too sugary to be good for you, but in the end, its over-the-top sweetness won't kill you.

The ending of The Forgotten leaves you feeling the same way, wondering just how much -- if anything -- of what came before actually happened.

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.

Fabulously perverted comedy.

Wimbledon may have its faults, but it's the sort of upbeat fantasy that's tough to resist. Maybe love wins in tennis after all.

For all its Buck Rogers-style derring-do, gorgeous vistas of an Art Deco New York and sepia-toned cinematography, Sky Captain is a static, uninvolving experience.

You might not think it would be easy to make a dull film about love, war and a bisexual threesome, but Head in the Clouds manages this task efficiently.

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."

Huston, unfortunately, is never really believable as a man rediscovering lost principles; he feels out of place in this otherwise fine ensemble.

Entertaining in spite of itself.

Criminal is happy to reprise Fabian Bielinsky's original note for note, and it's a listless, dutiful affair -- a cover version played out of obligation, not inspiration.

A poignant film punctuated with clumsy moments and a resolution that occurs far too abruptly.

I can honestly think of no reason why anyone would want to see Testosterone apart from the rumor that the film contains a full-frontal shot of Antonio Sabato Jr. naked.

If you don't have a dog waiting for you at home after seeing A Letter to True, you'll want one.

A mesmerizing documentary about the rise and fall of a drug lord, perhaps the biggest there ever was.

The whole incoherent mess is sort of like a downbeat Gap ad, only longer and a lot more boring.

With more time and a dash more cynicism, the film just might have achieved the thrilling allure of Becky Sharp's perfectly icy heart.

There are not enough synonyms for ''bad'' to describe the pretension and utter banality of the masturbatory The Brown Bunny, a film so exhaustively awful even its creator Vincent Gallo once disavowed it.

If you found "Crouching Tiger" a stunning bore, you probably won't fall under Hero's spell. But the rest of us, well, we'll be more than happy to savor every moment of its strange, ravishing beauty.

This movie didn't have to be good, but that it's so boring in its badness is tough to swallow.

Ultimately the story of someone who preys on other serial killers, but can't seem to come up with an original way in which to do it.

Results in a weightless film. Worse still, McElwee's languid tone makes his journey lack conviction.

Soon settles down into a drizzle of steady mediocrity, never living up to all the frenzy of those first few moments.

Shares an important slice of German history that is largely unknown.

In addition to providing a textbook example of suspense, Estes also makes us want to know what happens to these kids after the screen goes dark.

Red Lights is actually an examination of marriage -- of what keeps people together long after the passion has fizzled, and all that's left is bitterness and resentment.

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