An Amsterdam mess.

Large chunks of the film seem like a record played at the wrong speed: The tempo of the dialogue as delivered doesn't match the lines as written, and the filmmakers are too lazy or too inept to make their convoluted premise jibe with any recognizable idea of human nature.

It's a film pregnant with comic possibility that ought to be much funnier than it is.

When Gilliam is finally forced to admit defeat, it is nothing short of heartbreaking - for audiences, too, as the few shots that made it into the can hold such promise.

More "the mild one" than "The Wild One."

May have a storyline as generic as its title, but in the explosive Pacino and the smoldering Farrell (who nearly stole "Minority Report" from Tom Cruise), it has a pair of stars who are not as easily dismissed.

Alas, the laughs - courtesy of screenwriters J. Mackye Gruber and Eric Bress and director David R. Ellis - are unintentional.

There's a carnivalesque medley of subplots scampering about the screen, but Serreau manages to emerge triumphant with all the threads nimbly stitched together.

It presents a reverential and loving portrait of Deren while remaining breezy, informative and entertaining.

Not a very visually interesting documentary its simply one head talking to the audience, with no film clips, photographs or other diversions. But its awfully hard to turn away.

While Amen works as a history lesson, it's less effective as a thriller, since the outcome is sadly all too well-known.

Darkness Falls was formerly known as "Tooth Fairy," but could just as well have been titled "Dumb Then Dumber" for the way its plot makes decreasing sense even by the low standards of B horror flicks.

Stengarde gives an arresting performance as a mentally unstable woman.

You could do far worse in the current marketplace.

Everything about National Security is so lazy and uninspired, it's hard to believe that director Dennis Dugan also made "Happy Gilmore," arguably Adam Sandler's funniest movie.

A dumb, by-the-numbers children's movie.

Thereare moving moments in this over-hyped satire by the Israeli-Arab writer-director-actor Elia Suleiman, and it's fascinating to get a picture of daily life in prosperous Palestinian neighborhoods.

The performances are solid, but as a screenwriter, Guttenberg can't make the situation seem like more than a theatrical construct in a contemporary setting.

Like a bomb exploding in a fireworks factory: It's fierce and shocking and dazzling and wonderful.

Crimson Gold has been likened to an Iranian "Taxi Driver," but it's nothing of the sort, though it is powerful in a quiet, minimalist way.

It's a story that says a lot about the stupidity of war.

Lacks excitement, although its solid story makes for decent viewing.

The real star of The Son isn't lead actor Olivier Gourmet. It's the back of his neck, which the camera obsessively focuses on throughout this difficult but rewarding Belgian drama.

Sitcomish, stereotypical and sporadically funny romantic comedy.

A good-looking, if imperfectly plotted, coming-of-age feature -- that doesn't quite manage to sidestep the clichéd sport-as-metaphor-for-life trap.

A head-clearing, mind-blowing blast from the past - one of the year's best.

An oddly endearing little chamber piece that provides a terrific showcase for Hoffman, surely the best actor who has never been nominated for an Oscar.

For some reason, the people who make modern musicals don't like to let you watch dancers dance -- there are still too few moments when you get to enjoy choreography from a dancer's hands to her feet.

An instant candidate for worst movie of the year.

The Pianist recalls "Schindler's List," even down to its weakness: Just as Spielberg's film turned sentimental in its final half hour, Polanski's work, too, has a schmaltz coda. But that doesn't make The Pianist any less effective.

Isn't very good. Not only has Ritter made his documentary a one-sided one, but he commits the journalistic sin of using himself as the film's main talking head. In other words, he's interviewing himself.

A triumph of intelligent adaptation. It shows again how well the great Victorian storyteller translates to film, and makes enjoyable use of a generally first-rate cast.

Will no doubt figure prominently in the awards season. But be warned, you can cut the gloom with a knife.

You won't find a movie that's more fun this season -- but at 2-1/2 hours, it's probably too much of a good thing.

Loud, crass and full of slapstick humor that the Three Stooges would be ashamed of. And it is almost completely lacking in charm and nuance.

Smart, funny and good-looking animation.

Morton deserves an Oscar nomination, but she is unlikely to get one. The movie is too dark and out of the mainstream to impress the conservative fogies who vote for the prizes.

Evokes such deja vu, you'd swear you'd already fallen asleep on the damned thing in the middle of the night on HBO.

Makes "Training Day" -- which was admittedly pretty tough -- seem like a Disney cartoon by comparison.

Though never dull and often visually beautiful, this work of operatic sweep doesn't fulfill its own ambitions.

If you have the patience, its almost endless silences and extremely slow pacing eventually pay off.

Emotionally honest, feel-good saga with a universality that stands out in a season of singularly depressing and cynical Hollywood product.

Norton, returning to cracking form, doesn't try to make the selfish and smug Monty sympathetic -- but he lights up the screen, especially in two fantasy sequences.

A wild ride that effortlessly combines devilish dark humor, slapstick comedy, extreme violence and bitter satire.

The sequel's battle scenes -- especially the climactic assault on the Helm's Deep fortress by the armies of darkness -- easily put those of the "Star Wars" series to shame.

Spanish director Achero Manas' El Bola shows how the boys' bond leads to salvation of a sort for the needy Pellet. He does so with great sensitivity, never sinking into exploitation.

A devastatingly straightforward chamber piece that goes straight to the heart of what this city was feeling in the days right after Sept. 11.

As an actress, Lopez is a bit stiff, as she has been in all of her movies save "Out of Sight." It really doesn't matter much here, given the sparks between her and Fiennes and the fact that the role is pretty much form-fitted to her public persona.

I haven't laughed harder at anything this year, but I would have a hard time recommending this gender-bending gut-buster to anyone who doesn't have a high threshold for crude sexual humor and stereotypes.

Despite its treacly sentimentality, predictability and gutless evasiveness about the power of the church in 1950s Ireland, Evelyn manages to be an enjoyable piece of family entertainment.

A must-see for Nicholson's mesmerizing performance, which would probably hold interest even if the sound were turned off.

Whaley gives an earnest performance, especially when he's articulating his frustrations during his monologues. But it's all relentlessly glum. The film, like Jimmy's routines, could use a few good laughs.

It's a tribute to the sheer professionalism of this crossover charmer that it holds your interest for two solid hours.

A convoluted, pointless thriller that wastes the considerable talent of Max von Sydow.

While Star Trek: Nemesis isn't nearly as good as the best Nicholas Meyer-written movies like "The Undiscovered Country," it is far from the worst, thanks to the topical issues it raises, the performances of Stewart and Hardy, and that essential feature -- a decent full-on space battle.

Makhmalbaf finds room for moments of humor and humanity.

Panders to its audience by glorifying drug dealing and violence in all-too-depressingly familiar ways.

Shapeless, sloppy, badly paced mess.

The final result, shaped by the brilliantly nimble, pitch-perfect direction of Spike Jonze, and blessed by superb acting, is an extraordinarily clever comedy that falters only in the last 20 minutes.

The best thing about Equilibrium is its impressive look. Along with its generally fine cast and some well-choreographed fights, that goes a long way to making the movie watchable -- despite its underlying stupidity.

A unique, priceless portrait of the now legendary leader, and of his beautiful country when it was in the grip of a disastrous civil war.

The result is a magnificent feast for the eyes and brain.

The movies of prolific and popular Japanese director Takashi Miike evoke many emotions -- nausea, excitement, awe, amazement, shock. One emotion they don't often evoke is boredom. Sad to say,Dead or Alive: Final is boring.

Noyce paces this amazing story well, and even if his young actors don't seem to have physically suffered as much as they would during such a long journey, he makes extremely good use of the bleak Outback scenery.

A pathetically inane and unimaginative cross between "XXX" and "Vertical Limit," it could only harm the careers of everyone involved in its making - including top British stage actors Rufus Sewell and Rupert Graves.

The animated, Hanukkah-themed musical is, in fact, 75 minutes worth of belching, barfing and poo-jokes braided into a Grinch-meets-Scrooge-meets-"It's a Wonderful Life" storyline that's as stale as last year's potato latkes.

So beautifully made (everything in it is understated except the gorgeous good looks of its stars) and turns out to have such real cumulative power that it is worth holding out to the end.

A dull, dumb and derivative horror film.

Kline's divine -- alas, the film isn't.

Aside from a jarringly fake computer-generated avalanche scene that momentarily challenges the necessary suspension of disbelief, the big-bang set pieces are superbly crafted.

Bedeviled by labored writing and slack direction.

An interesting addition to a genre that tends too often to disregard artistic technique.

Isn't quite as accessible or as deeply moving as his masterpiece, "All About My Mother." It's a tad too self-consciously a work of art for that. But it's still a must-see for anyone who's halfway serious about film.

It's a shame that, on top of everything else, the second movie version of The Quiet American -- Graham Greene's brilliant 1955 novel about the French Indochina war -- should be so visually disappointing.

Succinct yet detailed storytelling, evocative cinematography (by Ellen Kuras) and arresting central performances add up to a trio of engaging character portraits.

Michael Moore makes many of the same points, with far more impact, in "Bowling for Columbine."

Though the performances are uniformly good -- Adams is a standout -- the movie plays like one long, meandering sketch inspired by the works of John Waters and Todd Solondz, rather than a fully developed story.

Screenwriter Steve Kloves still seems overly dedicated to cramming in every detail of J.K. Rowling's novel - while tacking on a schmaltzy Hollywood ending.

Few of the increasingly far-fetched events that first-time writer-director Neil Burger follows up with are terribly convincing, which is a pity, considering Barry's terrific performance.

The film is worth watching if only for Kim, who before this had never seen a movie, let alone acted in one.

The scariest revelation in Ratliff's film is that the Texas Hell House has proved so popular that it's being copied all over the country. Heaven help us!

Egoyan treats the Armenian genocide and its aftermath as a metaphor for cruelty and denial -- an exercise in either pretension or timidity that exploits this tragedy.

Has the cheesy, deadened feel of a straight-to-cable film.

The musicians' stories, while quite entertaining, add up to a somewhat confusing chronology. Still, they're good enough that you wish Justman hadn't resorted to those tacky TV-style re-creations that mar so many documentaries these days.

Commendably, Carrera steers clear of preachiness in his exploration of a timely and relevant issue, and Bernal's transformation from naive priest to tortured adulterer to hard-nosed careerist is riveting.

McCann weaves in a somewhat toothless condemnation of a bureaucracy that forsakes the mentally ill, but Revolution # 9 works better as an inside look at one person's slide into madness -- and, more particularly, the impact of that on his loved ones.

Most of the dialogue is in English, almost all of the story takes place in the U.S., and there is none of the kitschy fun that gives Bollywood flicks their charm.

This cliché-filled labor of love is staffed with some fine performers - Jennifer Holliday sings at a juke joint and Frances Sternhagen plays an older version of Emily's sister.

Introduces a new Ferrara -- sophisticated and restrained. It's a look that becomes him.

A cinematic petit four.

So it's not only how they dance, or even what they dance, but why they dance. And that makes Tavernier's movie muddled, simplistic and more than a little pretentious.

What makes 8 Mile transcend the formulaic nature of its plot is the way it makes these rap competitions compelling even for those unfamiliar with rap music, and its scrupulous, loving rendition of a grim, wintry Detroit circa 1995.

You know exactly how this thing is going to turn out before it's even half over.

Overlong but telling look at three young misfits.

Perhaps the year's most daring and fully realized movie, is a pitch-perfect re-creation of '50s melodramas, showcasing a four-hankie performance by a peroxided Julianne Moore.

De Palma fools around with split screens and slo-mo, but no amount of cinematic artifice can varnish over the fact that this is simply a bad film.

While it is obvious that the filmmakers went into this project with an agenda, they did try to give each side a chance to have its say.

An absorbing documentary.