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.