From its explosive opening sequence at a terrorist arms bazaar on the Russian border to a knockout climax on a stealth ship on the South China seas, Tomorrow Never Dies delivers what 007 aficionados demand: dynamite action, sharp one-liners and edgy style. [19 Dec 1997, p.4G]

This is getting old.

A star rises in the east. A savior is born. Two thousand years later, a surprisingly dull film is made.

What we're left with is an unfocused, rambling concept that lumbers off the ground but never really soars to the level of lunacy it could, especially at the afterthought of an ending, which is nonsensical at best.

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.

Reckless is weak, though teenagers may empathize with the fairy-tale fate of the improbable lovers. [11 Feb 1984, p.D4]

It's a nifty piece of work. The tension builds nicely, the convoluted plot doubles back on itself, and for once the music score doesn't give everything away. Nothing groundbreaking here, understand. But a lot of fun. [01 Oct 1993, p.G5]

It's the slum, the favela, that emerges as Orfeu's most compelling character -- criminally poor yet rich in life.

Explicitly invites us to mock its artificiality and giggly cluelessness, but beyond its attractive shell the film rings hollow. These days, even a comedy has got to have a heart.

Hardly the first of Woody Allen's love letters to the good old days, but it's a high-spirited, entertaining one, falling along the same lines as "Radio Days."

Penny Marshall proves deft at blending the silly stuff with enough action to generate a bit of suspense; the mix is that of Beverly Hills Cop. And the script, though the work of a whole crowd -- almost always a bad sign -- has marvelous moments. [10 Oct 1986, p.D1]

This melding of comedic minds is one of the better holiday gifts we've received, cinematically speaking.

Agnes of God may not seem half so profound on the screen as it did on stage, but if that is the case, it is so because Jewison's direction illuminates rather than conceals the story's essence. And this Agnes is not just a filmed play; it's a real movie, and a fine piece of work. [27 Sept 1985, p.D1]

It's easy to work up a good head of feminist steam over the misogyny and downright idiocy of a story that suggests that the tyranny of a righteous man can prevent an abused girl from making poor and whorish fashion choices. But it's hard to dismiss completely this atmospheric and persistently intriguing film.

It's all speed, movement and blood -- lots and lots of blood.

Excruciatingly unamusing.

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.

You have to overlook a whole lot of guff in order to enjoy the slight but pleasurable entertainment of The Switch.

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

The Lake House overflows with heart-stopping thrills, if by ''thrills'' you mean ''watching attractive people wait around for letters to be delivered by mystical forces.'' Which, come to think of it, makes this romantic melodrama sound a lot more interesting than it is.

Whoopi Goldberg gives a first-rate performance in Clara's Heart, enough to atone for the sins of her Fatal Beauty period. But it's nifty work in a lost cause. The movie is sickly sweet, shot through with the kind of confectioner's sentiment that Hollywood used to crank out on assembly lines until the formula slid into disuse. [21 Oct 1988, p.E10]

The Next Three Days might have fared a lot better if the screenwriters had stuck to "The Next Two Days."

The most interesting aspect -- the only interesting aspect, really -- of Housesitter's creaky script is the concept of the psychopathic liar, as played by Hawn, who can invent whole life stories under pressure. It's the film's central conceit that the capacity to delude others with long and preposterous fabrications is the one sure sign of character. [12 June 1992, p.G7]

Turner's performance is intriguing -- now we know that she can play not only a sexpot (Body Heat) but a sexpot hiding in a career woman's suit-and-tie and posing as a fleshpot. This is pretty interesting. [19 Nov 1984, p.C1]

Still, this is one French comedy that could have used a little more hand wringing and a little less whimsy.

This slick, sick remake of the 1977 Wes Craven cult shocker is more of a glum bummer than a horror show.

Electric Dreams seems to take forever to establish its premise and its characters, who (computer excepted) are nonetheless rather one-dimensional. [23 Jul 1984, p.C6]

It's a big, likable movie without quite enough jokes, but the stars take turns with the burden, carrying the thing in relays. They're fun to watch. [16 Dec 1986, p.D4]