Star Jeremy Renner seems shorter than Dahmer, but is otherwise a look-alike and gives a convincingly intense and weird performance. Bruce Davison (as Papa Dahmer) and the rest of the cast also do nice work.

While nostalgically recalling the past, this is a clear-eyed look at Jewish history that should prove compelling even to those who've never heard of the Yiddish theater.

A mess, but it's a rousing mess, with ample humor and action to satisfy the discerning dullard within.

"Center of the World" portrays a much more believable example of what happens when a computer nerd realizes that his erotic fantasies aren't the same thing as love.

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.

Roberto Schaefer's cinematography keeps things visually interesting, but spending an hour and a half with a gloomy, static lunatic hardly makes for a scintillating evening out, no matter how pretty she may be.

It's vastly enjoyable in a low-down, scandal-mongering way.

It manages to be sentimental without seeming trashy.

A film whose surface charm never gets in the way of its profound seriousness about living life to the fullest -- especially when one knows it isn't going to be a terribly long one.

It just doesn¹t get very good until halfway through, in large part because the usually excellent Walston is miscast.

It's odd for a film to be both dramatically conventional yet emotionally bizarre at the same time, as this one is.

Picture the dopes from "Dumb and Dumber" getting mixed up in organized crime -- but without benefit of Jim Carrey's rubberized pratfalls or his go-to-hell anarchism.

The movie will leave you smiling forgetfully on the way out, and Myers will have done his job.

Austere little creep-out.

Doesn't quite scale the heights it could and should, often because of its inappropriate humor, which could be blamed on cultural mistranslation.

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.

Filled with sharp observations and interesting, often subtle, bits of visual trickery, much of it evoking the technique of Douglas Sirk's American domestic melodramas. Still, the very simple story seems too simple and the working out of the plot almost arbitrary.

It's light fantasy, but lovely and astute.

Like all films constructed out of pop-culture effluvia, Zoolander runs the risk of being so last month; this is a movie that treats Fabio as the ultimate punch line and regards David Bowie as the prince of style.

There's enough substance here to make Crazy/Beautiful more than worthwhile for its target audience, and certainly more useful than the standard teen crapfests.

Renders it a cross between "Three Men and a Baby" and "Monsters, Inc." But it's bereft of the charisma of the former and the energy of the latter; stuck in a frozen wasteland, it possesses all the vigor of a Popsicle.

In the end, it's a film so short on style and verve it feels lifeless; audiences might feel imprisoned in the Château d'If, praying for escape or quick death. Thankfully, one need not tunnel out of a movie theater.

While there's nothing original in Rush Hour, it runs through its well-worn paces with both wit and excitement.

Perfectly capturing the zeitgeist of American high school life in the '80s, complete with a Rubik's cube reference, the funny and occasionally harsh Fast Times, with all due apologies to John Hughes and Mickey Rooney, may be the greatest teen movie ever made (even though Cates was the only real teen).

Beautifully made, deeply upsetting drama.

Awesome! Bravura! Captivating! Dazzling!

Unless you count "Lilo & Stitch," this is the first of several surfer-girl movies out of the gate, and it seems clear that in the rush to put it out there, a script was the last thing on Universal's mind.

Shot in the mean streets of a great and compelling city, here's a fascinating vision of societal upheaval that would likely awe De Sica himself.