The dirty old man who became a cult poet and author was a true original, and every minute he's on screen, whether it's reading from his brutally honest work or musing on a hard-lived life for the cameras, it's hard to look away.

A promising film that is dragged down by the weight of its gray morbidity.

Yet another teen comedy that tries to have it both ways -- basically, "Mean Girls" with crucifixes instead of designer jewelry.

Watching Wake is akin to listening to anonymous neighbors argue about matters you know nothing about -- nor care about. You only wish they'd shut up.

Doesn't press all its obvious lessons, and there are actually a few surprises -- and even a couple of moving and interesting moments -- before an all too predictable resolution.

Self-indulgent folly.

Slick but painfully precious, it strains to be darkly romantic but is bereft of genuine feeling.

Engrossing.

PAGING Pedro Almodovar! We have a movie badly in need of your help.

Anselmo handles sensitive issues not with kid gloves, but with a metaphorical baseball mitt, fumbling with tone and obviously laboring to force quirks upon characters and situations.

More tedious than affecting.

So gorgeously animated and so thoroughly entertaining for all ages that only an ogre would complain it's not quite as fresh as the original.

Man's inhumanity to man is gruesomely detailed in S21: The Khmer Rouge Killing Machine.

Not entirely bereft of chuckles, though it misses one comic opportunity after another (the best jokes are in the trailer).

What really wrecks Wolfgang Petersen's Troy is some of the worst casting in recent Hollywood history: The lackluster ensemble hired by the director is overwhelmed by the generally impressive sets and crowd scenes, by the task of playing epic heroes and by David Benioff's rambling, tone-deaf screenplay "inspired by Homer's 'Iliad.'"

Boasts one of the most ludicrous plots ever committed to digital video.

Carandiru, which ends with actual footage of the prison being demolished in 2002, marks a terrific comeback for Babenco - it's the roughest picture of life behind bars since "Midnight Express."

Indie hipster Jarmusch's distinctive brand of effortless cool and quirky humor percolate through each of 11 vignettes, all shot fairly statically in crisp, aesthetically pleasing black and white.

Approach is too heavy-handed to have much effect. Rod Serling probably could have turned the premise into an enjoyable episode of "The Twilight Zone."

Kalem's grasp of dramatic storytelling is no firmer, and the disorderly film merely chases its tail for the second half, going nowhere fast.

Can be summed up in one word: style.

The result is, alas, competent but unexceptional.

Something high schoolers might yawn through in history class, but they have no choice. You do.

Sweet, often poignant little film.

In trying to straddle both the grown-up and kiddie worlds with this inappropriately sexualized effort - their first theatrical release since 1995's "It Takes Two" - the Olsens have lost their footing.

There is fun to be had at Van Helsing, but it requires considerable suspension of disbelief at the apparently deliberately ridiculous plot necessary to bring the three monsters together.

Offers an idyllic, comforting surface of tree-shaded lanes and sunshine-dappled fields - but a disturbing tale throbs beneath.

You'll have to look long and hard to find a performance as emotionally raw as that of Moon So-ri in the startling South Korean love story Oasis.