It'll make you want to dig out your Whitesnake T-shirt. It might even convince Tipper Gore that heavy metal thunder is all in good fun.

Similar to the recent Emmanuelle Devos drama "Gilles' Wife," but it's as cool as that one was melodramatic.

Pretentious, stagy and over-the-top update of Chekov's "The Three Sisters."

Corddry leads a game cast, but the film is rough around the edges...It would play better as a TV sketch.

If the film is meant to make us feel good about African justice, it does anything but.

A smug, deliberately convoluted mix tape of Tarantino, the Coen brothers, Guy Ritchie and Hitchcock with (mostly) a cast to die for, Lucky Number Slevin is great fun for, say, 20 minutes.

Sandler's latest ode to projectile vomiting, passing gas, gay jokes and physical insults to the groin is basically a feeble cross between "The Revenge of the Nerds" and "The Bad News Bears."

The film is amateurishly directed and sluggishly paced with an anorexic plot. Even the photography, sound and costumes are substandard.

Johnny can't read, but he sure can rumba - and that's just fine with Take the Lead.

Aniston's best on-screen performance since "The Good Girl."

You've seen him be funny on TV for nothing, but you'll have to shell out $10.75 to see Ray Romano unwrap a Subway sandwich.

If you go to the movies to ogle topless young women, Simon is definitely for you. If, on the other hand, you want something more cerebral with your $10 ticket and overpriced snacks, stay clear of this Dutch melodrama.

Unlike American movies about challenging yourself, it's all played in a minor key.

Surprisingly watchable because of its cast - especially Jack Klugman, who steals every scene he's in as Dad's paranoid survivor father. All he has to do to stand out is underact.

It's not always clear exactly what's happening in this dark tale, full of barking dogs and slabs of meat. But you won't be able to take your eyes from the screen; nor will you quickly forget this fiercely original eye-popper.

The three women deliver solid performances, but the film is diluted by the use of flashbacks superimposed over present-time scenes. The result is visual chaos.

Sir! No Sir! doesn't make a lot of sense, but it does have some fascinating footage of Jane Fonda, both as a dippy young protester and today, when she remains dazzled by her own legend.

Kev Robertson's gritty camerawork and a musical soundtrack mixing hip-hop, punk and electronica add to the ambience of this impressive shoestring-budget indie.

Now that even Woody Allen has stopped making "Woody Allen movies," you would think that wannabes would move on, too.

At this point, there are inflatable toys that are livelier than Stone, but how can you tell the difference? Basic Instinct 2 is not an erotic thriller. It's taxidermy.

The film mostly avoids easy laughs or simplistic characters, reminding you how few black movies claim the huge middle ground between chardonnay-sipping buppies and hardened criminals.

The rare sequel that is better than the original.

This is one horror film that could make the syllabus at Bob Jones U. The way the squid blasts its tentacles into doe-eyed girls seems designed to steer your daughters away from sex until they're about 40.

It's Gordon-Levitt's pitch-perfect work that makes Brick a hardboiled treat.

The film quickly ceases to be of interest to anyone but dedicated fans. The novelty of the deliberate ugliness wears off after a song or two.

Often charming and funny, though sometimes quite gross.

You don't have to be a fan of Daniel Johnston, an underground artist and singer-songwriter whose manic-depression has kept him from realizing his full potential, to appreciate director Jeff Feuerzeig's documentary.

Overall it's got two left feet - and charm is in dangerously short supply.