A lavish biopic that gives Li one of his juiciest roles but is relatively light on the action his fans have come to expect.

The highlight is a meta touch: A funny on-screen résumé is posted each time we meet a new character.

A first-rate documentary on this subgenre of punk rock, which flourished roughly between 1982 and 1986 as an anarchistic response to Ronald Reagan and the disco era.

Watching it is like being the only non-stoned person in the room as someone tells a long, long story.

Preteen sexuality is a sensitive subject, but director Auraeus Solito handles it with dignity, never becoming exploitative.

An acid trip of a movie about a piece of Los Angeles history that exists no more: the Ambassador Hotel.

You must lead a dull life if it would be enlivened by 76 minutes' worth of Old Joy.

The women are all beautiful; and the camerawork - by Emmanuel Lubezki, who shot Terrence Malick's spectacular "The New World" - is eye-pleasing.

If this overcooked version of James Ellroy’s novel - inspired by a famous 1947 Los Angeles murder - is less than fully satisfying or even believable storytelling and acting, it’s still possible to get a kick out of this fever dream loaded with eye candy.

Everyone's Hero, a tame CGI cartoon for the simple-minded: the very young, the very old and Yankee fans.

Some movies present their whole story in a two-minute trailer, but Gridiron Gang says it all in its poster.

If I were a member of Generation X, I would be fed up with Hollywood's obsession with the idea that its men are genetically incapable of growing up.

Think you're depressed now? Wait till you see Aurora Borealis, which spends almost two hours watching Ronald Shorter, a suicidal old man, die.

A strained, ultra-predictable and headache-inducing mockumentary.

Ends up feeling familiar.

Those expecting an exhilarating, "Pulp Fiction"-style wrap-up will also be disappointed. Instead, Flowers gives us the impression - as the end of "Traffic" did - that we've just taken a few turns on a merry-go-round of doom that is going to keep spinning long after the movie ends.

Documents the Nixon administration's failed, almost comically inept attempt to deport the most political of The Beatles and his wife, Yoko Ono. Given the latter's cooperation with the filmmakers, it comes as no surprise the Lennons come off as saints.

The movie's one-star rating is solely for Mary Elizabeth Winstead, who provides eye candy as Morris' film-student granddaughter, Lisa.

Dame Maggie is simply delightful (has she ever been less than wonderful?).

The sort of lowbrow sports comedy best enjoyed on a 50-inch screen with a six-pack, a bucket of wings and a fast-forward button.

A lot of preaching to the converted.

They'll say that this year's two Superman pictures could not be more different, but they'll be wrong: Like "Superman Returns," Hollywoodland is laden with atmosphere but moves like it has lead in its tights.

This ludicrous Quentin Tarantino-chosen low-budget movie features choppy editing and an amateurish script, and it switches strangely back and forth between dubbing and subtitles.

When the villain is revealed, you are neither surprised nor scared. You just think, "That guy?"

Too bad nearly half the film is about DeLuca, who has an irritating Freddie Mercury wail and is both obnoxious ("We'll play downstairs after midnight or we won't play at all") and moronic.

A movie bursting with nothingness.

Keeps such a lazy pace, with so many scenes that fail to move the story forward, that it should be cited for failing to meet the minimum speed for a crime drama.

A fascinating, sad, sometimes quite poetic window into a grueling way of life most of us know little about.