You don't have to know Chile's bloody history to be moved by the poignant new film Machuca, the first movie made by a Chilean about the country's 1973 military coup.

An extremely well-acted and well-directed remake of a 1957 oater.

After 160 years, this is a story that still grips the heart and the mind.

Based on the book by Patrick Ness, the film belongs alongside “Pan’s Labyrinth” in the realm of darkly creative kid-centric films that are, at their core, not really kids’ fare at all.

Buck is best left to TV, where it will land soon. It's "The Horse Whisperer" that should be seen on the big screen.

Pegg and director/co-writer Edgar Wright mix numerous references to other zombie flicks with hilarious bits of their own. The best has Ed and Shaun deciding which LPs can be used as ammo.

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.

The real find here is Gourav, who gives a pressure-cooker turn as Balram, a guy who can no longer smile and nod at his own oppression. He switches rapidly from sweet to deranged, gullible to Machiavellian, generous to bloodthirsty. This guy’s got more layers than spanakopita.

Clooney, who gained 35 pounds for the role, gives a self-effacing but highly effective performance.

At a little over an hour, Silent Souls is hardly long, yet the camera's repeated focus on the wintry, gray country road they're traveling can feel somewhat ponderous -- like life itself, as one of the guys in the film might wryly point out.

Agonizingly slow-moving and talky, it consists primarily of conversations between two men in a truck.

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.

Has no profound statements to make, but it does provide warm and fuzzy comfort.

Dreamgirls may be good enough to win the Oscar for Best Picture - great costumes, sets and choreography help - but despite stellar work by erstwhile "American Idol" contestant Hudson and Murphy, it's far from a great picture.

A thumping soundtrack, including David Bowie's "Rebel Rebel" and Pink Floyd's "Us and Them," fuels this high-energy look at a pack of underdogs who sowed the seeds for today's extreme sports craze.

Based on Erich Maria Remarque’s 1929 World War I novel, the German film on Netflix is unsparing in its portrayal of the horrors of battle. It’s sensory-overload, tough-though-rewarding viewing.

That 20-minute white-knuckle sequence - which includes Washington's character, Whip Whitaker, flipping the plane upside down to pull out of a tailspin - is by far the most effective part of director Robert Zemeckis' first live-action film since the underrated "Cast Away" 12 years ago.

There might be a great movie to be made out of the financial crisis, but 99 Homes, which is like being shouted at by a man with bad breath while he grips your collar with both hands, isn’t it.

There is much opportunity to turn the film into a soaper, but Hansen-Love resists.

You’ll find that out in the film’s last — and best — moment, which belongs to Redmayne. Is it sentimental? You betcha. But it sure takes you back to the TV magic of President Bartlet.

A clever setup that harkens back to “You’ve Got Mail” and “The Shop Around the Corner” doesn’t quite pay off in India’s warm-hearted comedy-drama The Lunchbox.

Filming in gritty, black-and-white 16mm, Riker gets terrifically natural, often moving performances from his mostly non-professional cast.

Settles into an unflinchingly honest coming-of-age portrait.

This So-Called Disaster was the father's sarcastic term for their relationship.

It's an odd, initially jarring mixture of style and subject matter that works better as the film goes along.

Too-convenient coincidences hurt the movie's credibility. A melodramatic script best left to cable TV doesn't help, either.

Almost too creepy to be poignant, and generally funny only in an uncomfortable, squirm-in-your seat way.

Martin Scorsese's Rolling Stones "documentary" (i.e. concert film) is a first: the only Scorsese film that does not feature the Stones' "Gimme Shelter." Really. I think the Dalai Lama even hummed the guitar solo in "Kundun."