The title is to be taken figuratively, not literally -- is a top-notch study of family angst.

Daring, mesmerizing and exceedingly hard to forget.

Apart from some irritating and redundant camera tricks early on in the film, director Blair Treu plays it white-bread straight, delivering an uncommonly inoffensive, after-school-special-style teen flick.

Its bawdy honesty eventually gives way to convention, sentimentality and a frustratingly silly ending.

Even dumber than Perry's "Three to Tango," this latest sitcommy exercise is sporadically funny in spite of itself -- and not quite as dreadful as you would suspect.

Staggers between flaccid satire and what is supposed to be madcap farce.

A sensual performance from Abbass buoys the flimsy story.

Williams triumphs by exceeding both in sheer actor's craft - and the depths he plumbs in his character's tortured soul.

So unremittingly awful that labeling it a dog probably constitutes cruelty to canines.

Surprisingly smart and satisfying.

A lush, genteel romance of the Merchant-Ivory school that qualifies as a guilty pleasure -- largely because of the unexpected chemistry between its improbably matched leads, Gwyneth Paltrow and Aaron Eckhart.

The plot is thin as consomme, and the thudding score is distracting, but the heartfelt storytelling and Michael Bertl's disarming cinematography make this a food film to savor.

"Schindler's List" it ain't, and the whole is rendered occasionally surreal by Janusz Stoklosa's laughably heavy-handed score.

Veteran French star Michel Piccoli is superb as an aging actor named Gilbert Valence.

This wonderful party of a movie, as totally original as its hero, stamps on a smiley face that will linger for hours.

This is an egotistical endeavor from the daughter of horror director Dario Argento (a producer here), but her raw performance and utter fearlessness make it strangely magnetic.

Pumped-up, dumbed-down Bond, with tattoos instead of brains.

It's an intriguing setup, filled with colorful characters, lots of humor and well-developed scenes.

With its endless takes of characters silently waiting, say, or getting out of bed, this is the kind of film that can be seen only after a full night's sleep. But it is also clever, funny and sometimes moving.

A comedy as black as the asphalt desert of a mall parking lot.

Has enough heart and smarts to recommend it as one of the season's worthier family entertainments.

You can't get much more perverse than asking Julia Roberts to wear fright wigs, do her own frumpy makeup and costumes -- and then shoot her scenes in eyeball-gougingly ugly digital video.

It wouldn't matter so much that this arrogant Richard Pryor wannabe's routine is offensive, puerile and unimaginatively foul-mouthed if it was at least funny.

Walking a tightrope between high farce and emotional truth, writer-director Gabriele Muccino's breathlessly paced Italian comedy The Last Kiss manages to stay just this side of melodrama.

A beautifully crafted, white-knuckle, roller-coaster ride of old-school filmmaking -- the kind that believes that the less you show, the better.

No one but a convict guilty of some truly heinous crime should have to sit through The Master of Disguise, an unbearably tedious and unfunny comedy.

While it is interesting to witness the conflict from the Palestinian side, Longley's film lacks balance (there's nothing from the Israeli perspective) and fails to put the struggle into meaningful historical context.

Like some of Hitchcock's films, the story - adapted from a novel by Charlotte Armstrong, an American mystery writer of the '40s and '50s - can be accused of stretching credibility and coincidence almost to the breaking point.