An outrageous horror flick.

A disturbing and daring thriller with an exceptional performance by 13-year-old Laurien Van den Broeck.

White-haired Ronnie Gilbert of the Weavers -- the group was blacklisted during the McCarthy years -- is in especially fine voice.

Pietro Sibille is exceptional as Santiago, and the rest of the cast turn in dynamic performances.

Hopkins' larger-than-life performance as the crusty and crafty Burt rivets your attention for two solid hours in this most entertaining labor of love.

Aeon Flux is by far the year's worst movie, a most dubious achievement.

Like a preoperative transsexual, Transamerica is neither one thing nor the other. It yanks at the heartstrings too much to qualify as an edgy comedy-drama, but it's far too bawdy to make it to the Hallmark Channel.

an overlong and surprisingly dull documentary.

THE mesmerizingly awful The Kid & I is a historic first: a comedy about the making of a vanity production that is ITSELF a vanity production.

A master class on turning a talky, one-man play into a visual delight.

an infomercial for death starring Townes Van Zandt.

The story is so contrived and the dialogue so stilted that no amount of talent could save Exist.

Seventy percent of black boys in Baltimore do not graduate from high school. They're more likely to land in jail -- or a cemetery. But there is hope, according to The Boys of Baraka, an uplifting documentary.

Writer-director Debra Granik has found a star, and wisely builds every scene around Farmiga's character.

Newcomer Friend, a Leonardo DiCaprio lookalike who can also be seen in small roles in "The Libertine" and "Pride & Prejudice," has a winning manner, but Mrs. Palfrey at the Claremont is a terrific, long-overdue vehicle for Lady Olivier.

Pretty dry stuff that verges on an infomercial, despite cameo appearances by Sarah Jessica Parker and Mizrahi himself.

Thornton is in great form as the sardonic Vic, whose disposal of an apparently dead body in a trunk is a hilarious set piece.

In the dumps.

There's a line between rogue and jerk, and Reynolds lives on the wrong side of it. As Dusty, Klein is such a smooth operator that he could have been - should have been - the lead.

The screen version's Drama Club dorkiness is going to ruin the Rent brand of alleged downtown cool for everyone. If anything can re-shevel the disheveled multitudes of Alphabet City and chase the hipsters into pleated khakis and sweater sets, it's this film.

Lame family filler.

Everybody involved in 39 Pounds of Love probably had the best of intentions. But watching the filmmakers scurry about to record every last tear, I couldn't help but feel that this twisted little man was being exploited.

This film isn't pretty, but it has some kick: It is to "Shakespeare in Love" what wild pheasant is to Chicken McNuggets.

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

Fine for people of developing minds, but the story so often stops its forward motion to take us on long detours into the land of CGI effects that it amounts to a $150 million magic show.

Walk the Line superbly combines music and two of the year's most riveting performances to tell one of the screen's great love stories.

The Greeks have a word for Blackmail Boy: boring.

Israeli soldiers are cast as the killers, while the Palestinians are the hapless bunnies. The Israeli-Palestinian conflict is thus reimagined as "Bambi."