Dizzy with celebrity, New York society and gay life (if all that isn't the same thing), Infamous is more fun. But "Capote" is a better movie.

It's trashy and disgusting - and those are the best parts. Mostly it's just an endless, pointless drone with characters like bacteria and dialogue like an untuned radio.

There's plenty of material here for a dark comedy, but director Martin Curland isn't up to the job. His film - like Luke - plods along, unsure of exactly what it's supposed to be.

This lame teenage James Bond will leave audiences neither shaken nor stirred.

The cinematography and sets look great, but the script is a bummer. It's overlong, overwrought and overblown.

Never becomes maudlin. Rather, it retains an upbeat air of hope, and even humor, as two brave men battle fate.

The result is mystifying - intentionally so - and frustrating. But it's worth a look.

The profanity-laced but witty and literate dialogue by William Monahan ("Kingdom of Heaven") is delivered by a brilliantly chosen cast, almost all of whom are operating at the very top of their game.

For short stretches, the movie has a touch of surreal "Office Space" brilliance, but it's broadly acted, its characters are thin, and the production values are ragged. Still, it's hard to resist its goofy hostility: "You're like the drummer from REO Speedwagon. Nobody knows who you are."

Misses everything that made the first one eat into your spine like meningitis.

Dropping by on the same people every seven years like an old friend - or an unwelcome relative - Apted has constructed a peerless, suspenseful work that develops character to a depth that would make Tolstoy jealous. If you have any interest in documentaries, watch the DVD of the first film, "7 Up" (49 Up hits DVD Nov. 14). You won't be able to stop.

A dry but enlightening documentary.

Lou Diamond Phillips is let down by an uninspired supporting cast, including Bruce Weitz as a crippled con artist and Tracy Middendorf as the requisite femme fatale, a clichéd script, and flat direction by Stephen Purvis.

Vanity productions don't come much worse than One Third, an amateurish, dialogue-free curiosity courtesy of Yongman Kim, the founder of the Greenwich Village institution Kim's Video.

You gotta give credit to any first-time direc tor who attempts an homage to classic screwball comedies on a shoestring budget, even if Kettle of Fish ends up not exactly being the catch of the week.

Mitchell's adventurous, big- hearted, pansexual mosaic of New Yorkers looking for love and orgasms (not necessarily in that order), is a rare example of a nonporn film that doesn't exploit graphic sex as a gimmick.

Mock didn't find room for any of the many critics who accuse Kushner of being an anti-Zionist - and the film unfortunately ends in 2004, just before its subject began working on his controversial script for Steven Spielberg's "Munich."

An original head trip definitely not recommended for kiddies.

Sticks to reporting. Unlike most political documentaries, it doesn't preach - to the choir or to anyone else.

All hail the great Helen Mirren, who after her triumph in HBO's "Elizabeth," delivers the performance of a lifetime as that monarch's frumpy, 20th century namesake in Stephen Frear's witty, touching and engrossing The Queen.

The men who made The Guardian strive to be the averagest of the average - and don't quite succeed.

An excellent case for euthanizing the entire talking-animals genre.

School for Scoundrels teaches one important lesson: Avoid any thing carrying the banner of The Weinstein Co., which is to the multiplex what bagged spinach is to the produce aisle.

It might take a while to figure out what is happening, because Khoo provides no expository dialogue. But viewers' patience will be rewarded as the stories come together in a moving fashion.

This is a gifted director who actually has something to say and knows how to say it. We'll be hearing from him again.

[Hernandez] is obviously a man more concerned with art than commerce, but good intentions don't always make for good filmmaking.

The Last King of Scotland is a parable shocking in its truth, jolting in its lack of sentimentality, Shakespearean in its vision of the doctor's catastrophic flaw.

Lethally dull and self-important remake.