"Run mad whenever you choose, but do not faint," Austen wrote in her early journals. Despite its brazen politics, Mansfield Park never goes giddily amok as promised.

Offers effortless charm, wit, and originality in spades.

Never the heart-wrenching emotional experience it seems intended to be.

Might be the most original film of the year.

It is only once the movie has exhausted its roster of "weird" notions and contrived images that it finds its emotional footing, leaving you with one half of a lovely, woebegone film.

Mesmerizing entertainment, but it's also a cop-out.

Eventually succumbs to fatal overlength.

The nerviest, oddest, most outlandish and idiosyncratic American indie debut since "Buffalo 66," Richard Kelly's Donnie Darko defies description.

A charming movie.

A literate, dialogue-driven treat delivered by a cast that truly savors the script's wicked wit.

Almereyda never plays up the gimmickry at the expense of the performances, and as a result, his movie largely succeeds, despite an overabundance of pretentious pokes at our consumer culture and the risky casting of Ethan Hawke in the lead role.

A cute, clichéd, coming-of-age comedy.

Normal ideas of truth, illusion, and representation are sent into the meat grinder, and the result is consistently disarming and beautiful.

"Trek"-heads will laugh hardest, but there are plenty of yuks for the uninitiated as well.

A vapor trail of a comedy, comfortable as an old chair (and deliciously photographed in shades of melon and banana by Chinese vet Zhao Fei), but ultimately quaint and unchallenging.

A modest project with an agreeably modest point of view, but it cries out for a sharp, believable naturalism Kusama simply doesn't supply.

Jon Reiss' compelling documentary on the people, music, and social constructs of dance culture, may perhaps provide some needed balance to the mass media attention.

This joyous romp is no mere new groove, it's a live wire -- 110 volts of pure holiday cheer.

From the beginning of his career a fervent, epic documentarian, Herzog is a personal filmmaker as well, and My Best Fiend is certainly his most intimate and introspective film.

Like "Pollock," Nora is a convincing portrait of the intersection between creative genius and crazy, all-consuming love.

The story is a pleasant one despite its pointed righteousness.

Though Lee's movie is dripping with action and beautiful details, it's aimless and, eventually, tedious.

Only Elaine May shines, in a weird and wonderful turn. Her loopy character has such a struck-by-lightning demeanor that she's always delightfully off in her own comic orbit even in the tritest of scenes.

Badly photographed, clumsily edited, and lacking any discernable cinematic style.

A laughable disaster: an agonizingly long, perversely dull, childishly conceived fantasia on marital sexual angst that could only have been made by someone (like Kubrick).

All in all, she comes off as quite a complex creature.

For all its originality, O Brother doesn't seem to have a point, or enough spark to distract us from the lack thereof.

The politicizing is intense, but the actual game footage is even more engrossing; Carlson uses both digital video and 16mm film to put us squarely in the midst of the gridiron brouhaha.