Wincer keeps the insubstantial story moving and the comedy light.

A punishing tragedy that could best be described as the anti-"Shine."

Almost nothing happens for most of the movie.

It's a gleefully unfettered gross-a-thon first --also second, third, fourth, fifth, sixth -- and a movie perhaps seventh.

Offers nothing but tired "Red Shoe" Diaries-style sexploitation for the art-house crowd.

Moviegoers of any (or no) religious persuasion can share in the simple satisfaction of his tense, well-spun murder mystery.

What's right as rain with Diary is the casting.

This talky, self-important flick is a bore of biblical proportions.

Naturalistic, gritty, and unrelenting.

A full-throated shout-out to the lowest common denominator.

Dippy, funny, and fast-paced enough to be a guilty pleasure.

The characters and their dilemmas are never convincing.

This fictionalized, frequently stomach-churning biography of Australian criminal Mark Chopper Read features the most bloody ear-severing scene since "Reservoir Dogs."

A watchable mediocrity at best.

With the dependably compelling Freeman present, even its worst moments are not unwatchable.

The only constant is the violence, which assaults rather than amuses.

So breathtakingly textural, so empathic in its images, that it transcends its context and achieves timelessness.

The dialogue is trite and tinnily recorded, and the actresses have the chops of high-school drama students.

The voyage is never less than interesting, even when you have no idea where it could possibly go.

One more attempt to pass off chopped liver as foie gras.

If you can overlook its condescending wholesomeness and static, visually drab, endlessly repetitious animation, then you have a more forgiving soul than I do.

Plays like a Chinese "Cinema Paradiso," full of feeling without succumbing to sentimentality.

A fast, funny film that goes down like a cyanide-spiked piña colada.

Though unflinching in its savagery, Amores Perros is always compulsive viewing.

Rodriguez has made a movie for kids, and the most and least that can be said about it is that parents, while hardly being catered to, will experience profound relief that the movie knows how to entertain and does so.

There aren't even any naked chicks in it. What the hell is up with that?

Starts as light, fluffy fun but becomes so blithely preposterous that it ceases to exist.

For a modest film, however, Too Much Sleep is a modest surprise.