As a story, Mamma Mia! is a sham, a narrative so rickety it makes "Grease" seem like Shakespeare. It fails as a musical, too, since only about half of the songs have any bearing on the scene that preceded them.

It's all about making everybody happy. If that's not grounds for a good relationship, then I don't know what is.

Among the many problems with the Generation Acne romantic comedy She's All That is that a self-consciously stupid, 9-year-old TV series ["Beverly Hills: 90210"] has covered the same territory with more smarts, style and laughs, albeit the unintentional kind. This movie exists solely to snag a cut of the weekly allowance doled out to bored mall brats. And even they would probably prefer shopping. [29 Jan 1999, p.5G]

But if My Date With Drew is what passes for filmmaking these days, the movie industry is in more trouble than we thought.

Thoughtfully directed and co-written by Arie Posin, the film is not a ghost story, nor is it played for campy laughs, but its melodramatic subject matter flirts with Douglas Sirk territory — and sometimes just dives right into it.

What were charming once -- the clumsiness of Uys' style and the crudeness of his effects -- now seem quite tired: After all, he had the budget this time, and he has had six years to learn how to do things. It's as if Uys never quite understood what made The Gods Must Be Crazy so enchanting. [13 Apr 1990, p.G5]

The moral of Irreversible -- time destroys everything -- isn't nearly as profound as writer-director Gaspar Noé seems to think it is, which is why some critics have already dismissed the movie as the facile, misogynistic posturings of a provocateur.

The sins of the inspirational Saint Ralph are venial, but they undeniably prevent the small Canadian film from stretching beyond the boundaries of an After School Special.

Proves there are some things cartoons can't do better than live action after all.

An uncommonly playful fright machine -- a fun house factory of scares.

Casino Jack fails at its most critical mission: Laying out in clear detail exactly how and when Abramoff broke the law.

The acting is better than Ivy deserves. Barrymore is surprisingly good, bringing the right amount of sexuality and mischief to her performance without coming across as ridiculous. It's tough for someone known mostly as a child actor to break into more adult roles, but she pulls it off. [04 Jun 1992, p.F3]

Better Off Dead has the body of a tired teen comedy but the soul of an inspired student film; it's the first movie in a long time to interrupt itself periodically with flights of animated fancy. At one point, romantic foreshadowing is accomplished by a "clay-mation" sequence featuring cheeseburgers in love. At another, a lovesick teen draws a cartoon picture of his faithless girlfriend, and the drawing tells him to get lost. [17 Oct 1985, p.B6]

Despite its contemporary-sounding anti-French cracks, could easily have been made 20 years ago.

This engaging documentary is briskly funny.

The film's refusal to take its characters anything less than seriously makes it cut deeper than a Will Ferrell lampoon.

Deadly dull and as wooden as a hitching post, Quigley is set in the Australian outback where the mercury often tops 100 degrees, but there's no heat in this movie, no spark of ingenuity or life. [20 Oct 1990, p.E4]

No Small Affair, while no big movie, confirms that it is possible to tell a story about a kid in love without depending on the French-tutor contrivance or the girls'-locker- room giggle. [09 Nov 1984, p.C10]

Me Before You is a sugar-coated romantic bauble, not a gritty documentary. Giving into its pleasures is not for everyone, but its message — live boldly, as the movie’s hashtag encourages — is an admonition that’s awfully hard to argue.

The Fountain is probably too muddled and half-baked to even attain cult status -- but you can still see what writer-director Darren Aronofsky was striving for, and even if his reach exceeded his grasp, his intentions were both admirable and worthy of respect.

The effort is earnest, but the plot turns more and more implausible.

The movie is sloppy and scattershot, and proud of it. It wears its slipshod, anything-for-a-laugh structure like a badge of honor: Smith is nothing if not self-deprecating.

For all its respectable airs, The Accountant mostly induces shrugs. Sometimes, B-movies fare better when they settle for being their lowbrow selves.

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

It's beautiful to look at, but there's little there to savor.

Jay McInerney's novel Bright Lights, Big City was hailed as a portrait of the vacuous, coked-out '80s generation. The movie is simply vacuous. The script, also written by Mc-Inerney, strips away the novel's witty and ironic voice. What is left is a vapid yet sentimental cautionary tale about the evils of drugs. Of course, drugs are terrible. But so is Bright Lights, Big City. [1 Apr 1988, p.C1]

Little happens that you don't see coming, down to which cast members will get picked off and in what order. It's a dumb action movie in a summer full of dumb movies, and yet it's always entertaining. And you won't really miss Arnold at all.

A lively, funny, imaginative film that should appeal to kids and their pet-loving parents.