If you have an appetite for audacious, one-of-a-kind filmmaking, this one's for you. Just don't say you weren't warned.

Like "Beneath the Veil," it gives a human face to those who have suffered from the Taliban's tremendous cruelty, and those who have been maimed in the war to end their rule.

The shooting sprees are full of razzle dazzle. The final gun battle -- between Kong and the police -- is especially effective.

Tremendously affecting on several levels, In the Bedroom is must-see viewing for anyone who complains Hollywood doesn't make movies for grownups.

Wears out its welcome fast because of its artistic pretensions and self-absorbed characters. You'd be better off renting "Manhattan" instead.

Genuinely scary, exquisitely shot -- and very well-acted.

Longwinded, slow-starting but moving film.

Don't you hate movies where one character is so much smarter than everyone else? That's only one problem with Spy Game, a glossy, suffocatingly predictable star vehicle for Robert Redford and Brad Pitt.

If this cheesy, cheap-looking update of "A Connecticut Yankee at King Arthur's Court" had been co-produced by the Ku Klux Klan itself, it could hardly be more repellently stereotypical.

A cheerfully dopey snobs vs. slobs teen comedy.

It's a lumpy and disorganized film that remains unsatisfying, perhaps because the fundamental oddness of having sex in public for money as a way of life remains just as mysterious at the end of the film as in the beginning.

Martin's most adventurous film in many years, may be next best thing to a quick shot of nitrous oxide.

The result is a remarkably beguiling documentary, on a number of levels.

One of those exercises in romantic whimsy that misses its mark: It's alternately sappy and uncomfortably harsh.

As entertaining as it is amazingly faithful.

The performances are more than serviceable and The Fluffer is well-paced and engaging until the flaccid climax.

Boring and desperately unfunny.

Judging by this passionate film, the medical community -- has no clue about what causes this awful malady and, worse, doesn't seem to care.

Morrow fares less well with the script, which he also produced and collaborated on.

Black, who all but stole "High Fidelity," is disappointingly bland and one-note in his first starring role.

A muscular, endlessly twisty homage to film noir capers like "The Asphalt Jungle."

Draggy and contrived.

Unfortunately, the mind and motivation of Otomo -- remain a mystery.

Overall, this sci-fi/martial arts hybrid has the stale aura of a product assembled out of bits of other action movies.

Unfortunately, director Marc Foster (who co-wrote the screenplay) never allows anyone except Mitchell to play more than a one-dimensional character.

That is not an original idea, for sure. But the ensemble cast -- especially Tatou as a 24-year-old store clerk named Irene -- is personable and the Parisian ambiance is catching.

Lively, well-acted and directed with assurance.

Smart, funny and ingeniously detailed with terrific vocal teamwork.

A slick, sweet, fast-paced, feel-good romantic fantasy that's fairly irresistible if you can keep your cynicism in check for a couple of hours.

Laughs are few and far between, and the film feels brutally long.

For all of Linklater's acrobatic camera moves, you never quite escape the feeling you're watching a barely adapted TV version of a somewhat gimmicky stage play.

A refreshingly unpretentious little thriller.

Despite its visual brilliance, its all-round cleverness, and the way it demonstrates a profound understanding of genre, the Coen brothers' The Man Who Wasn't There doesn't quite come off.

The biggest load of New Agey hogwash to grace the big screen since Spacey's "Pay it Forward."

More "it stinks" than *NSYNC.

A strange Gallic imitation of a Woody Allen comedy, replete with a neurotic older hero.

The result is an intermittently instructive and amusing jumble that might have been seen as daring and "transgressive" in both form and content if it had been released, say, three decades ago.

Rambles on for nearly two hours with subplots that go nowhere -- and half-baked leftist political commentary -- before focusing in for a quietly devastating climax.

Light on dialogue and heavy on creepy atmosphere. See this movie and a visit to the tailor's will never be the same.

An overwrought, ramshackle weepie that really doesn't deserve Kline's Oscar-caliber work.

The movie's only redeeming qualities are its stars.

What follows is very gruesome indeed, though the footage of people being chased by hideous ghosts soon becomes rather dull.

A very elegant and fit-looking Omar Sharif appears as the on-screen narrator and Kate Maberly ("The Secret Garden") plays his granddaughter in a framing story.

Most experienced filmmakers wouldn't even attempt a film that's so blackly funny, that so rapidly shifts genres and tone, and that layers late '80s cultural references so thickly, from "E.T." to Smurfs.

A silly, boring supernatural thriller that squanders a potentially interesting premise and the rapper Snoop Dogg in his ostensible starring debut.

The film's strong point is its stylish, arty look, carefully chosen composition and shadowy lighting.

It's unfortunate that the people DuBowski profiles tend to be self-indulgent or otherwise unappealing. It's still more unfortunate that the film focuses more on relatively easy issues of acceptance.

Unusual and utterly disarming documentary.

Wants to be a "Last Tango in Paris" for the new millennium, but its flaccid dramatization and hollow moralizing doesn't rise even to the level of last year's "An Affair of Love," let alone Bertolucci's masterpiece.

Obviously a labor of love for all involved, including GOP mayoral candidate Michael Bloomberg, who bankrolled the production and receives full producer credit. He deserves it.

A self-indulgent work.

A stylish look and a fair amount of hot and heavy sex (mostly hetero), and the final shootout is pretty nifty.

Gripping and stylish thriller.

It's an even rarer pleasure to see a film that combines exciting action with a smart, well-informed script and vivid yet restrained performances.

A messy, woefully uneven chick flick.

A breakthrough animated film -- a trippy cross between "Yellow Submarine" and "My Dinner With Andre" that will leave some audience members struggling to stay awake and others reaching for a toke.

Mildly interesting.

You'd be better off renting Demi Moore's "Striptease."

A rather crude affair that feels like a student film, due to performances that often lack conviction and would-be "street" dialogue that rings false.

Moves at a leisurely pace, and it cries out for a narrator or even just an organizing principle.

The performances are so solid - and newcomer Jon Dichter's direction (he also wrote the script) is so utterly assured - that the rather contrived ending barely seems to detract from the film's entertainment value.

While some of this white guy's humor is juvenile and in questionable taste, Hoch, for the most part, is able to pull it off and supply a frequent number of laughs.

Good value for the money, a funny, character-driven action comedy with three disparate stars -- who have great chemistry together.

May well be the first film ever to show people having sex while wearing gas masks.

This is a lazy, careless film that feels strangely unfinished.

No "Crouching Tiger." It lacks the richness of theme and performance that made Ang Lee's film so emotionally satisfying. In fact, watching Iron Monkey makes you realize just how Western and literary the sensibility of "Crouching Tiger" was.

No classic like "The Big Sleep," another famously impossible-to-follow Los Angeles thriller. But for those willing to hang on for dear life, Lynch makes it worth their while.

So unsparingly honest in the way it treats human cruelty and resilience that it makes fashionably bleak films like "In the Company of Men" and even "Boys Don't Cry" seem unforgivably trite or exploitative.

While My First Mister has considerable charm, it suffers somewhat from comparison with "Ghost World."

It's a slow, exhaustive and exhausting process that takes a toll on the viewer, despite the intrinsic power of the underlying material.

While Tarr's newest epic, Werckmeister Harmonies, isn't intended for the shopping-mall crowd, it is more viewer-friendly and will please adventurous moviegoers.

So daring and unsparing in its depiction of the psyche and experience of adolescent girls that it's hard to imagine an audience that wouldn't find it deeply provocative despite a slow pace.

Bland, occasionally funny.

It would have been funnier at half that length.

Though there are moderately interesting interviews interspersed throughout, Deadheads will want to see the numbers, in which Grisman's more formal style complements Garcia's looser approach to his music.

Chop Suey is, in the end, as much a tease as Weber's photographs -- not much substance, but rather sweet and with style to burn.

Some of the plot twists don't really stand up to close scrutiny, but the sometimes over-the-top Joy Ride plows through them with such joyful glee, you don't really care.

Earnest and predictable.

Be warned: Though it's entirely justified by the story, there's a level of violence and brutality in Training Day -- that some terror-weary audience members may not care to cope with these days.

Honestly, it's still pretty hard to resist as a guilty pleasure: A fluffy date-night movie that wrung a tear or two from more than one hardened male critic's eyes, chick flick or no.

It may take a scorecard to keep track of the complicated relationships in this sorry clan.

Before the slightly surreal (self-consciously so) climax, there are some fine set pieces, including a disastrous dinner party that amply showcases Rivette's wonderfully light directorial touch.

Only sporadically entertaining.

After a promising start, writer-director Daniel M. Cohen pours on schmaltz straight out of the similarly themed "Diamonds," including the proverbial hookers -- with hearts of gold.

Can't overcome the familiar, soapy script.

Kelemer doesn't offer anything that hasn't been done before in documentaries of this type. Still, Won't Anybody Listen makes for interesting viewing as a study of true-life underdogs.

Visually unimpressive and laden with awkward dialogue; its primary interest doesn't lie in its storytelling but in its sociology -- in the window it opens onto a Muslim Middle Eastern society in transition.

Heartlessly efficient kidnap thriller.

Fluffy, inconsistent, but enjoyable.

A fussy piece of schmaltz that makes you long for "Stand By Me," a vastly superior coming-of-age tale from King's pen.

A witty, well-acted, visually gorgeous ensemble drama.

With awkward acting, plotting and direction, this is no "Guess Who's Coming to Dinner," "Jungle Fever" or "One Potato, Two Potato."

The film looks nifty, but the flat and unemotional English-language dialogue lessens its impact.

Essential viewing not just for those fascinated by adventure, exploration and survival, but for anyone interested in the magic of leadership.

Director Frears, in a radical shift from "High Fidelity," again (as in "Dangerous Liaisons") shows he's a master of period detail and subtle storytelling -- and the performances couldn't be more on the money.

Helplessly clichéd, predictable and unaware of its own lameness, it could easily become a camp classic on the order of "Grease 2" and "Sergeant Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band."

A nifty piece of entertainment that says a lot about American society.

This must be one of the worst movies ever to get a big-screen release. If it weren't so boring, this unbelievably bad indie sex comedy would be worth going to for five minutes of laughs at its sheer incompetence.