Were it not for the gravity of the setting, the movie could just as easily be a comedy -- with everybody play-acting and doors opening and shutting and the repercussions of lies multiplying geometrically -- as a drama.

It's an interesting, often worthwhile, film, but humor isn't its strongest attribute.

If you like stuff breaking in THX, Swordfish delivers like no other this year. Bring earplugs.

While the whole is diverting, the ending's utter repudiation of reality seems like pissing on the audience; -- we feel like we've been suckers for bothering to care about the characters at all.

The highpoint of the film, acting-wise, comes from Bernadette Peters.

Evolution is merely stale, sterile and, worst of all, safe.

When it's all over, one is less compelled to applaud than to give each "character" a sympathetic hug.

A thrilling tale smartly told, with an abundance of wit and invention. It's a classic.

Moviegoers might have preferred a little more care with the characters. As it is, Alma comes off not as a courageous trailblazer but as an indiscriminate adventuress.

A film you can dump your kids off at the mall to see in order to get peace and quiet for an hour and a half.

Actually boasts a decent script with character development, a sense of pace and some well-drawn supporting roles.

A vicious, hard-core version of "Thelma and Louise," going nowhere near the Grand Canyon but leaving a trail of carnage in their wake.

Has all the crowd-pleasing elements moviegoers respond to: appealing hero, absorbing story, a solid group of supporting players and a big fat happy ending.

What saves the film from utter forgettability are the strong supporting performances, especially from Peter Caffrey as the town atheist, and Tony Doyle.

Though wildly imperfect, manages, for all its missteps, to touch on a number of important issues few gay films have dealt with to date.

This sensuous, exotic film is more like an issue of "National Geographic" come to life, rich with cultural detail and insight.

Sad to say, the story is simply too slight to sustain the film.

It's war porn, a movie that revels in the carnage.

There's nothing particularly wrong with this whole setup; it's just very by-the-numbers.

What's most impressive about this is that, if one didn't know better, the naturalism of the performances could be taken for that of a documentary.

One of those genially paced, character-driven indies, and succeeds as such very well.

A unique and striking film for at least the first two-thirds of its running time, after which it turns, all too sadly, predictable and mundane

Shrek isn't clever or smart. It just wants you to think it is, through wink after wink after wink.

This thing moves brilliantly, sparkling like nothing we've seen domestically since "The Wiz" or "Xanadu."

For a general audience the entertainment factor is quite low. The project may best serve us not on the screen, but in a time capsule.

A shame, this frenetic mess, as there were loads of reasons to be hopeful.

What's somewhat ironic about Bread and Roses is that it's bound to be more interesting to people outside of L.A. than in it.

It's composed of really long scenes that are mostly dialogue, with transition action imagined or implied only. Couldn't we go outside for at least one scene?

The prettiest Dogme film to date may be the one that has the least to say.

Smart, wry and awesome, all at once.

Quick-witted, spicy Irish comedy.

It's all a bit silly and predictable, but maybe that's the point.

Has an awkwardness that defeats whatever emotional involvement it tries to achieve.

Eureka is, quite extraordinarily, never dull.

This is not Tsui's best film by a substantial margin, but it's immense fun.

A beautifully acted, carefully written meditation on one woman's grief, the enigma of imagination, the persistence of desire and -- let's face it -- the power of denial.

It punishes rather than entertains; it condescends, it offends, it loathes its audience.

This nicely acted study of a love that survived all manner of trauma is a must-see for Joyce fans, feminist historians great and small and admirers of the Emerald Isle.

The actors labor long and hard to bring some semblance of reality to the proceedings, but the whole affair has a distinctly faux '50s feel to it.

The film is often moving and explores the discomfort inherent in the contacts between the American "hosts" and their "guests," but its effect is diluted by slow pacing and lengthiness.

Reasonably well-made and all, but it's simply too familiar, too derivative and too inferior to its predecessors to have any reason to exist.

While this production from Michael Douglas is being touted as a sexy romantic comedy, it's more precise to think of it as big loud fun for when you're feelin' dumb.

Nowhere near as bad as distributor New Line seems to think.

Worth the price of admission if only to see the slinky Thurman decked out in a form-fitting, sequined pre-flapper era outfit. The word stunning hardly does her justice.

Once the action kicks in -- starting with an extraordinary balletic fight in the rain featuring the two masters and a flying wooden beam -- you can't take your eyes off the screen.

I still think the first is the best in the series, but I'm in the minority: Number two has a stronger following among the legions of Hong Kong movie buffs.

Stallone's script is well structured, though the jaw-droppingly banal dialogue gives us little reason to care.

This is a highly original film blessed with fetching complications all its own and some hair-raising turns of plot.

It would be hard to imagine a less exciting movie. Still, inoffensiveness can sometimes lead to success, at least initially, for a family film.

In the end, it demonstrates all over again the virtual impossibility of doing Nabokov justice on film, because his work is so resolutely and brilliantly made of words.

May be too low-key for its own good. Still, if you want to get in on the ground floor of Aidan Gillen's certain-to-be-skyrocketing career, it's a good place to start.

The film is a somewhat disjointed affair that, like the man himself (Green), is occasionally brilliant, frequently repetitive and sometimes merely annoying.

For better or worse the movie is simply simple -- the project's quality and significance depend upon one's perspective: Is this a daring and impressive homespun yarn or just a very middling stab at soft-core?

Forster is the reason that even non-Mamet-heads might consider giving Lakeboat a shot. It's worth it just to see him in his long one-take exchange with Johnston about booze, but he's remarkable throughout.

The urge to laugh is superceded by the urge to slap everybody and command them to stop embarrassing all of humanity.

It's a heartfelt and powerful examination of faith that no serious student or enthusiast of theology or philosophy should miss.

An extraordinary film from a born filmmaker.

Sandler and Spade continue their avid quest to dumb down America.

An antiadvertisement for itself.

Everything leading up to the finale is funny and often heartfelt.

Dominik's stylistic choices are savvy, but what really makes the movie work is Bana's extraordinary performance as Chopper.

It's basically your above-average nice drug movie.

Deadly dull thriller.

No B-movie fan, save perhaps the extremely obsessive for whom this is old hat, should miss it.

For folks who like a genuinely tense suspense film with heavy doses of black humor, however, this ought to do it.

A spare film, with little dialogue but a lot to say.

More art-directed than directed, there's nothing in the way of serious thought to be found here,

Farmanara, the actor, brings a real poignancy to the role and, thus, to the story that seems, more than anything, the tale of a man coming to terms with his life.

Startlingly, this is not the trite beer commercial one might expect.

It's a crude, visually ugly, and peculiarly over-plotted movie, but the blunt, pungent, physical shtick is often pretty funny.

Expect to be perplexed.

Hu has crafted a charming and modest movie.

A film of tremendous complexity and depth, a galvanic force that sends the mind reeling.

There's little evidence to suggest Schneebaum was one of the great explorers of the 20th century, or even that he was particularly curious.

The actual finale, which so betrays what's come before it that it leaves one walking out of the theater holding a grudge against what was.

Like its namesake, this Simon Mágus is wise and elemental, sure to leave you pensive afterward.

The texture is reminiscent of last year's "Suzhou River," but the basic material isn't as rich.

Varda, still pixieish in her early 70s, is having fun here.

Ustaoglu has pulled off a rare feat in this film, enlightening us about a horrible situation while never losing sight of his central tale of friendship and loyalty.

This is a sensitive, thinking person's movie with a lot on its mind.

If you're not in the mood for explicit discussions (and occasional depictions) of the sex life of French adolescents, close your eyes.

Austere little creep-out.

The repetitious structure begins to grow wearing about two-thirds through, but the conclusion has an emotional wallop that justifies the wait.

Hilarity should ensue, but it doesn't.

Except for a few slow patches, the movie is compulsively watchable: You keep waiting to see just how sick things are going to get.

A turgid, unfunny, out-of-time rockspolitation movie.

The movie seems almost loving toward its characters, so much so that we can't help but fall for this gang of losers.

Marshall is the very definition of a hack; his one and only desire is to play to the lowest common denominator. This is the secret of his success: He aspires to mediocrity. With Runaway Bride, he has scored another bull's-eye.

With malice for all, Drop Dead Gorgeous isn't likely to win any popularity contests.

Even before the film has worked up a head of steam, it has started to pile up the improbabilities, giving us reason to question its credibility.

Those expecting the quick wit and inventiveness of the television series will certainly be disappointed.

Wisely, Run Lola Run lasts something under 80 minutes; any longer, and it would have been as exhausting and boring as a half-hour Donna Summer track.

The political, social, and linguistic adjustments Parker makes to this hugely entertaining Husband give it fresh relevance without betraying the original.

Infectious, intoxicating joy is the emotion conveyed in every frame of this ravishing, exuberant documentary.

This wry and surprisingly high-gloss production brings back the good stuff: zombies, latex body parts, screaming women on altars, errant eyeballs, and guys with no necks trying to eat burritos.

What it offers at its shockingly sappy core is a familiar view of adolescent rebellion as a goofy but inevitable phase.

If Drew Barrymore weren't at the center holding it all together, the result could have been disastrous.

A small-scale, slight undertaking, but its pleasures are unexpectedly rich. It has become a habit in our movies to portray the exploits of high school characters as shocking and depraved. Ten Things allows its teenagers their innocence and a quality that is even rarer these days, something like nobility.