A hilarious and utterly faboo documentary...you'll be begging for more.

Just isn't funny enough to sustain the lunacy.

There's nothing remotely bizarre about this boy meets girl meets boy tale.

An incomprehensible mess.

It's a drab, familiar story with no oomph (and less humor than you'd think), and it's inconsistent.

An entertaining but insubstantial romantic thriller loaded with Euro-chic trappings and no small amount of sex appeal.

A drearily over-cynical farce.

Doesn't come close to the pulp beauty and complexity of classic noir.

An explosive experience...and you have to love the movie's rabid energy and lust.

Sitting through the film is like Chinese water torture, for sure, and for reasons beyond the forced, idiotic campiness of the thing. For one thing, there is not one word of dialogue.

Hamilton's quasi-Luddite tale doesn't make a coherent movie under the best of circumstances, and these were, apparently, something substantially less than that.

Plays like mediocre outtakes from better bell-bottomed fare (Richard Linklater's authentic, seriocomic "Dazed and Confused"; Fox's "That '70s Show") without making any kind of impression of its own.

Skeet Ulrich continues to disappoint in one high-profile project after another.

Indulges in enough grubby histrionics and costume-adventure cliches to give you fifth-grade flashbacks.

Whenever Voight steps to the forefront, A Dog of Flanders is poochy-keen; alas, the rest of the time it's doggedly dull.

Houston, we have a problem. It's called The Astronaut's Wife and it's an utterly predictable rip-off of classic '60s and '70s exercises in paranoia, from "Rosemary's Baby" to "The Parallax View."

Brooks' least satisfying film in quite a while.

A pale, derivative little Brit ditty that will be forgotten almost as speedily as it was dumped...into theaters.

You'd think creating confusion during something as woodenly simpleminded as Dudley Do-Right is no easy task, but you'd be wrong.

A gritty, well-acted urban drama with lots of humanity.

The farce hits the fan, and you just wait for the thing to be over.

Wholly predictable and implausible plotting, thin characterizations, and stilted dialogue.

Engagingly silly sub-"Moonlighting"-style banter.

Savy script... terrific performances... [yet] the movie's herky jerky pacing may leave you wanting.

The summer's best cinematic equivalent to a lazy afternoon in the shade with a cool drink.

Turturro's movie is all surface, all artifice, and little substance. Actors love artifice; the rest of us wait for it to clear so we can find something meatier.

Bird's movie neither panders to children nor sneers at them, and it beautifully, lucidly captures the giddy adventurousness of childhood.

The biggest piece of supernatural hooey since estranged wife Demi Moore's "The Seventh Sign."