The movie falls into all the usual rhetorical traps.

Taylor also makes an impressive comeback as the conflicted daughter who instinctively distrusts Heather, but Starting Out in the Evening is first and foremost a triumph by Frank Langella.

There are many new Japanese movies that deserve a stateside release. Why this hapless mess beat them out is a question that deserves an answer.

This movie's heart is in the right place, which is one way of saying it's terrible.

This is the sort of movie that requires you not only to suspend disbelief, but to check your sanity at the ticket counter.

The first half hour or so of Enchanted is brilliant.

If someone ran this guy through a scanner, the readout would say: “Mark down and stock in straight-to-video aisle."

Bob Dylan would probably love I'm Not There, which may be all a Dylanist needs to know before seeing it. Non-devotees are in for puzzlement, if not exasperation.

A pretentious left-wing monster movie with about 15 minutes of alarming creatures and a whole lot of bickering, is a pre-9/11 story which Stephen King wrote eons ago. It operates in the post-9/11 era about as well as a Studebaker at the Daytona 500.

So full of solid performances and appealing characters that I wished writer/director/producer Preston Whitmore (“The Walking Dead") had considered the dictum “less is more."

Highly entertaining - but far from classic.

I've had root canals that were more enjoyable than Margot at the Wedding, Noah Baumbach's hugely pretentious, ugly and annoying follow-up to "The Squid and the Whale."

There isn't anything terribly exciting or original on offer in the somewhat poky directing debut of screenwriter Zach Helm.

De Palma is extreme, visceral, usually in bad taste but almost always riveting. De Palma's Redacted, a no-budget fake documentary that imagines the circumstances behind a real rape and murder of a civilian girl committed by US troops in Iraq, is a piece of anti-war propaganda whose aims I don't agree with, but it jolted me nonetheless.

If you've seen "Gone With the Wind," you've seen what Love in the Time of Cholera isn't.

If a more incoherent and self-indulgent movie has been released so far this century, I'm not aware of it.

Not like a lump of coal in your stocking. Coal is useful; you can burn it. This movie is more like a lump of something Blitzen left behind after eating a lot of Mexican food.

A dreary message movie.

Best remembered as the most flamboyant of TV's original "Hollywood Squares" - which is really saying something on a panel that included Paul Lynde.

I went to a wartime thriller, but then a Poli Sci 101 seminar broke out.

The first movie I've seen in a very long while that deserves to be called a masterpiece. It's such a stunning achievement in storytelling.

This is one of those thrillers where the person on-screen is often the only person in the theater who can't guess what'll happen next. Lots of laughable moments provide camp value, though, and Bentley ("American Beauty") makes for a charismatic creep.

How can it be that a movie as beautiful to look at as Saawariya is so . . . boring?

Even in support of the noblest of causes, manipulation is manipulation.

Big-Hearted and often quite funny if crudely made, Fat Girls cleverly subverts the clichés of high school comedies to serve an autobiographical story about an overweight gay teen in a small Texas town.

Denzel Washington dazzles in his best screen performance to date as Frank Lucas.

Dazzling fun. Jerry is master of a new domain.

The documentary Darfur Now proves that - no matter how im portant the subject matter - following various people around with a camera doesn't necessarily make a film.