This is an egotistical endeavor from the daughter of horror director Dario Argento (a producer here), but her raw performance and utter fearlessness make it strangely magnetic.

A civics lesson about integration very artfully - and entertainingly - disguised as an upbeat family sports movie.

The characters are tired stereotypes, the sentimentality nauseating and the situation comedy way below the standards of the very worst WB or UPN shows.

Proudly airheaded, incoherent, endlessly pandering - yet fitfully entertaining.

Little more than an infomercial for the candidate.

Racially offensive quips, flagrant sexism and Tourette syndrome gags all contribute to this witless, scare-free junk.

Ride sounds a bit like a Lifetime movie, but in Hunt’s capable hands it’s a brisk, funny and touching comedy for boomers.

The script suffers from blandness and aimlessness.

So moron-friendly they should have called it "Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Checkers." The skill level in the script is elementary school, my dear Watson.

The ingredients are there for a cute con game, but instead the movie turns out to be a mushy melodrama.

The Protégé should’ve been a home run for director Martin Campbell, who did brilliantly with Casino Royale, Daniel Craig’s first James Bond film. He brought seriousness to the old franchise without sacrificing its charm or decadence. Instead, we get old clichés.

Director Andy Goddard’s film is far too aware of its subject’s peculiarity, and every frame knows full well that something is a bit off.

Isn't perfect, but it's light years ahead of "Ong-Bak."

Trouble is, the movie is only sporadically funny, and the concept soon grows tiresome. In fact, you could say that there's too much downtime in Autoerotic.

Forty-three years later, “Tron: Ares” is groundbreaking for being the first “Tron” film with a discernible plot.

Writer-director Julian Henriquez does a great job staging the lively musical numbers.

There's obviously some philosophical comment on the alienating effects of ho-hum toil buried somewhere in this weird mess, which features an irritating, theremin-heavy score. But can you be bothered stifling a yawn and searching for meaning? I would prefer not to.

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

An uninspired recycling of themes that were far more gripping in "The Lion King" and countless other earlier Mouse House classics.

One of the better political documentaries flooding into theaters after "Fahrenheit 9/11" and before the election.

Fine for fans? Sure. This stuff is crack for fans. Crack is really bad!

Ted 2 has so many mo–ments of crazy brilliance that I laughed a lot, if infrequently. Is a ballplayer who whiffs four balls but knocks the fifth one 500 feet worth watching? I say yes.

Greengrass' direction is uninspired, but there is powerful chemistry between a workmanlike Branagh and (real-life girlfriend) Bonham Carter. And her original, seductive and always believable turn as the difficult-but-lovable Jane raises the movie above all its flaws. [23 Dec. 1998, p.44]

Divergent is a clumsy, humorless and shamelessly derivative sci-fi thriller set in a generically dystopian future.

The preachy “Showman” argues that Barnum should be celebrated for bringing “freaks” like the bearded lady and others out of the shadows and into his shows, but those characters are sketchily drawn.

Gorgeous location filming on Italy’s Amalfi Coast and a voice-only performance by the great Claire Bloom as an elderly woman remembering World War II are the main attractions in Kat Coiro’s familiarly snoozy romantic drama.

The film at least achieves the level of mediocrity thanks to the professionalism of two slightly younger participants — Kline and Mary Steenburgen, who also have Oscars on their mantels but go well beyond phoning it in here.

Politics aside, Trudell plays like an infomercial for its subject rather than a serious examination of the man and his beliefs.