Whether Tiny Furniture is a mumblecore movie is an open question. It has many of the tell-tale signs of that ill-defined genre; although improvised dialogue, a mumblecore staple, is minimal.

Stewart's intense, courageous performance as a 16-year-old New Orleans prostitute is really something special.

No matter your take on Merritt's persona, there's no denying that he's a unique musician whose songs -- such as "Papa Was a Rodeo" and "Living in an Abandoned Firehouse With You" -- are worth discovering. As is this film.

Old-school filmmaking at its best.

Director Michelle Esrick, who followed Wavy around for 10 years, journeys from Manhattan to Woodstock to Nepal to the hills of California to tell Wavy's story. The journey is entertaining, whether you witnessed the 1960s firsthand or heard about it from your grandparents.

He turns to the furry creatures as a metaphor for life in post-Communist countries. Just as the rabbits were discombobulated by their newfound freedom, so, too, were people, who found it difficult to adapt to life without Big Brother.

The laziness of this filmmaking (which assumes you know that Gray killed himself in 2004) is of a piece with the emphatically uninteresting tales told by a classic dinner-party bore who once referred to his ramblings as "creative narcissism." He was half-right.

Everybody flirts with everyone else as director John Irvin pours on a level of shopping-mall-gift-shop-kitsch that would shame Wayne Newton.

Never amounts to anything more than a rambling, studenty exercise in undergraduate cinema vérité. Some expressive, arty photography and a mildly satiric attitude toward stage poseurs do little to make the picture bearable.

Few directors make action movies with the pizazz of Hong Kong's Johnnie To, although his films rarely get runs in New York. That's all the more reason to see his Vengeance.

A surprisingly unengaging and charmless fantasy from a director whose previous films ("Across the Universe," "Titus," "Frida") were, despite their other issues, never boring.

The extremely well-acted The Company Men ends on a hopeful note, but Wells examines the repercussions of a layoff-based economy with devastating precision.

The eye-popping and entertaining The Chronicles of Narnia: The Voyage of the Dawn Treader offers a merry seafaring jaunt together with plenty of adventures led by magically empowered kids.

Pity the boxing movie that thinks it can be both "Raging Bull" and "Rocky."

In the dud thriller The Tourist, Jolie basically plays an overdressed, humorless live-action version of Jessica Rabbit, running around Venice dodging hired killers.

Visually, this toon is all over the place. Rapunzel's glowing hair can look alarmingly like fiber-optic cable, but some backgrounds are the computer-generated equivalents of Disney's golden-age work.

Those looking for another "Showgirls" will be disappointed - writer-director Steve Antin avoids the seamy side of the business, and the same-sex flirtation is mostly between guys.

Inspector Bellamy leaves a sense not unlike a summary of Chabrol's entire career -- of guilty stains seeping away in every direction, of motives hidden and of endless stories that frustrate full understanding. To Chabrol, no life is ever a closed case.

Beautifully shot but a soulless cash machine, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 1 delivers no dramatic payoff, no resolution and not much fun. Hopefully we'll get that in the final installment next summer.

Soldini is able to take the shopworn theme and keep it interesting and fresh despite its lack of new ideas. He's assisted by strong performances by his two leading actors.

A sloppy vanity project, this rambling and toothless Hollywood black comedy stars veteran filmmaker Henry Jaglom's girlfriend, Tanna Frederick.

It raises tangled questions about whether it is better to live humiliated or arm yourself, yet for the most part it's dramatically inert, talky and directionless, and it ends quietly without saying much of anything.

It isn't recommended for impressionable children, who might well experience nightmares. But for grown-ups looking for an alternative to the annual onslaught of ho-ho-ho Christmas tales, the visually pleasing oddity is just the thing, even if it does slow down in its middle portion before picking up again.

Though the movie doesn't use real names and the press notes say it's "inspired" by the Durst case, it seems to follow many of the facts rather closely -- all the while mixing in not a little provocative speculation.

A sour, plotless and witless comedy-drama based on the final Mordecai Richler novel, wants to remind you of "Sideways" and its forlorn drink-moistened soul search. Giamatti is an ideal casting choice, but even this talented actor can't sell a lovable-jerk

It's a welcome alternative to the homogenized Hollywood releases that proliferate during the holiday season.

This eye-popping, inspired and often-demented (in a good way) cross between "The Red Shoes" and "All About Eve" channels horror maestros David Cronenberg, Brian De Palma and Dario Argento.

The longer director Jan Hrebejk's film goes on, the more complex the relationships become, until the film becomes little more than a talkathon.