Too Late is a good-looking gimmick of a movie, one that will only be shown in theaters on 35mm film. Old-school advocate Quentin Tarantino would be proud — as he should be, since this noir starring John Hawkes feels like a big old valentine to him.

A wan effort at "Annie Hall"-style comedy, has about as much Manhattan sophistication as a gas station in Chippewa Falls, Wis.

On paper, these people may seem like boring statistics. But Andresevic, in her first feature-length film after years of producing commercials for the likes of Nike and Cadillac, turns them into humans viewers will take to heart.

The movie falls into all the usual rhetorical traps.

Gandolfini acquits himself well in a rare big-screen lead as the depressed operator of a rinky-dink amusement park in the waning days of winter.

The laughs begin with the excellent title Hamlet 2 - and they end there.

I'd call Diary of a Wimpy Kid: Dog Days harmless if it weren't for some totally unnecessary gay-panic jokes that could actually encourage bullying.

Probably more gut-bustingly funny than anything else out there right now.

With a formulaic plot and adequate supporting players, Smith phoning it in presents a major roadblock for a series as reliant on two leads’ chemistry as this one.

Fails to grab the imagination as it unfolds in familiar TV-movie fashion.

I have a feeling that this is the last time we'll see a down-and-dirty Ellen Page. Her handlers have too much wrapped up in her mainstream persona to ever again allow her to do anything as daring and out of the loop as The Tracey Fragments. And that's a shame.

When disaster struck, the documentary says, the powerful corps went to extraordinary lengths to silence, discredit and punish whistleblowers, many of whose allegations were supported by congressional investigators.

Casting aside warnings and physical threats from the townspeople, this once-demure teen girl embraces her wild side with a gory, punk-rock abandon.

Woody Allen certainly hasn't managed anything remotely this funny lately.

Max's even more fabled shoe phone also makes an appearance - and, fortunately for Get Smart, the self-deprecating Carell isn't shoe-phoning in his inspired performance.

Like the rest of Dear Mr. Watterson, it’s a good-hearted gesture. But unlike Calvin’s alter ego Spaceman Spiff, this film never manages to achieve liftoff.

If Young ever converses with the gentlemen from al Qaeda, I expect his comments to be along the lines of "Please don't cut my head off."

The cinematic equivalent of meat loaf -- comfort food that's reassuring in its utter lack of sophistication and surprises.

Gripping and stylish thriller.

Sucker bait for the sort of credulous cinast who'll buy anything ugly and boring that looks like it's avant-garde...rancid stew of cheap shocks, sleaze and phony artiness.

The tiny stage can barely contain Reno's gale-force personality, as she paces and rants a stream-of-conscious monologue.

The story won't win any prizes for coherence, but that doesn't much matter. As in most Hong Kong thrillers, it's the visuals - love those boldly choreographed shootouts! -- and moments of absurdity that count.

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

Bart Everly followed Frank around for two years, yet his film seems to consist mostly of regurgitated C-Span and news footage from the period, interspersed with asides from the outspoken liberal.

As a primer on one of history’s less flashy leaders, it’s a worthwhile watch — mostly for fellow Texan Woody Harrelson’s committed performance behind those prosthetic ears.

Like a Canadian "Six Feet Under," the indie dramedy Whole New Thing mixes characters (teen and adult, gay and straight, married and single) who seem both completely plausible and capable of anything.

Director Griffin Dunne's adaptation of Dirk Wittenborn's fiercely personal novel ambles pleasantly through coming-of-age movie territory, then takes a jarring Agatha Christie detour.

The acting is super -- these guys know how to be sweet and disgusting -- and the story provides its share of laughs. But after a while, the one-note movie, directed by Felix van Groeningen, grows tiresome.