The true strength of the film lies in its vast ensemble of actors.

This is not exactly standard children's fare, but kids (and their parents) should be smitten by its wit and wisdom.

Although the film occasionally descends into mawkishness, Shyamalan is skilled at bringing the tension to excruciating heights.

It's not just that the movie is formulaic; it's disingenuous. It relies on Roberts's smile to erase all misgivings. But all the stardust in the world can't disguise the fact that this is more package than picture.

Deep Blue Sea gives good rush -- earning its stripes as one terrific junk movie.

There's something for everyone in this 70-minute special effects frolic, and lovers of the cartoon will find the movie relatively faithful to its animated predecessor.

The crude humor in Drop Dead Gorgeous does not have a moral point to it. It's just crude.

The more the computer-generated images take over, the sillier The Haunting gets. By the end, the computers have chased all the scares away.

If some nagging sense of anachronism, a bit too much Freudian Vienna in his postmodern New York, prevents Eyes Wide Shut from being at the top of his list, Kubrick's 13th and last film is his most humane.

A fairy tale reminding us that childhood fears are deep and tangled as tree roots.

A "croc" of nonsense.

Arlington Road does a nice job of keeping things speculative enough to remain interesting.

A surprisingly earnest and cautionary movie, careful to attract female viewers and not freak parents out too badly.

A thick stew of sex, violence and suspicion, Lee's movie -- spiked up with a virtually nonstop soundtrack -- definitely has the power to jangle your nerves.

A mish-mash of special effects, tasteless comedy and pointless action.

Every bit as tasteless, irreverent, silly and smart as the Comedy Central cartoon that catapulted creators Trey Parker and Matt Stone into the Hollywood catbird seat.

Manages to maintain its humor and energy until the final scene.

Just because Sandler's Sonny makes little sense as an actual human being doesn't mean he won't make you laugh.

It's a swirling, fluid retelling of the tale that packs an impressive cargo of laughs, thrills and wonders into a watertight 88 minutes.

The General's Daughter purports to be a serious examination of the seedy underbelly of military life, but one has the uneasy sensation that it simply wants to show as much of it on screen as possible.

With her Doc Martens and her spiky, fire-engine hair, Franka Potente makes a perfect Lola. Like the film itself, her tough, flashy exterior cloaks a warm emotional center.

Beautifully appointed, fairly bursting with splendid sets and divine costumes, but it ultimately fails to capture the essence of Wilde's airy wit.

If it all seems a bit dizzying, it is, but there's plenty to enjoy.

The film is short on biographical details and the history of the music, and long on impressions of the musicians' character and motivations.

Adorable, if uneven, romantic comedy.

All the state-of-the-art technology in the world is no help to an actor saddled with Lucas's tinny dialogue.

Uneven but spunkily energetic movie.

These actresses are always worth seeing in just about anything, as is Tuscany. Together they are able to make up for the meandering plot and lack of dramatic oomph.

This remake is like a live-action cartoon: all brio and no brains.

The result is a film of rare restraint and surprising power.

Director Payne, who adapted Tom Perrotta's novel with Jim Taylor, has an authentically dire view of human behavior, which he expresses in crisp, edgy and sometimes startlingly raunchy style.

You're not sure where it's headed, but with an ensemble this good the aimlessness seems invigorating. It's when the plot kicks in that Newell's movie gets less interesting. It's frustrating to see such a promising premise, and such a delightful cast, wasted.

We don't really need some young punk to tell us that anarchy is an untenable idea, but watching him live it is an invigorating experience.

John August's trickily structured script owes an all too obvious debt to "Pulp Fiction," but Liman's film is more like kiddie Tarantino.

The script is an odd take on the Cinderella formula, but Barrymore makes it shine with her relentless charm.

Too bad the film ultimately fails to explore [provocative questions], falling instead to cliches.

Pure formula. But thanks to charming performances, particularly from its two stars, the winsome Stiles and a hunky Heath, it gets the recipe right, and the result is surprisingly sweet.

With an arsenal of cool f/x at their disposal, the Wachowskis have come up with a dizzyingly enjoyable junk movie that has just enough on its mind to keep the pleasure from being a guilty one.

A Walk on the Moon not only effectively captures the emotional development of all its characters, but it also neatly encapsulates the tumult of the 60s.

Ron Howard's version is--no surprise--a funny, audience-friendly entertainment that's ultimately less scathing satire than conventional Hollywood romantic comedy outfitted in trendy new clothes.

Bad, but not criminally so.

Refreshingly, the movie doesn't treat you like a moron who needs to be told which woman to root for. If Ben has to choose, why shouldn't you?

Matthew Lillard of "Scream," flies like his nickname and tries to bring the film some comic relief not already provided by the stultifying stupidity of the script.

It's just a standard, mediocre horror flick that wants to be taken seriously. The creators missed the point entirely: even teenagers know that there's no audience for this type of film anymore.

There are some moments that fall flat—the cinematic world might be a better place without Crystal's deeply unfunny parody of a gangster—and the delightful Lisa Kudrow is woefully under-used.

You won't be able to resist the film's ribaldry and cynicism.

Provides some great laughs, but founders when it tries to tackle more serious issues. Entitled "10 Dates," it might have been a much better film.

Spacek is brilliantly funny, slowly transforming Helen from a nervous 60s housewife into a liquored-up one. I could have watched her in the vibrating fat-burner, eyes closed, lazily gripping a martini glass, for hours.

The film has its dumb points: too many shots of churning surf and lovers nestled in beach blankets, not to mention the premise that women find incommunicative, hulking shells like Blake the height of irresistibility. But it gets you.

Payback may not always be P.C., but it's not interested in making friends, anyway. Just killing enemies.

A flat, cliched film in a flat, cliched genre.

Juxtaposes beauty and horror to fashion a savage and lyrical cinematic poem.

Schrader has never been one to coddle an audience, and this is as uncompromising a vision as he has given us.

Told from both women's points of view, this fascinating, if sometimes overwrought, tale packs a wallop.

Zaillian's meaty movie, at once bleak and hopeful, speaks volumes about the maddening distance between justice and the justice system.

Ultimately achieves that lump in the throat that is the romantic comedy's promised land.

There's something decidedly mechanical about this intermittently gripping movie's bleak view of human nature.

The beauty of this extremely clever movie, directed with fleet, robust theatricality by John Madden, is how deftly it manages to work on multiple levels.

A marvelous comedy from deep in left field -- immaculately written, unexpectedly touching and pure of heart.

All-embracing--funny and silly and tender, full of fun scares and endless sight gags.

A surpassingly sweet, funny and picturesque movie.

Shot in crisp black and white, this homage to "La Dolce Vita" nonetheless lacks the charm and energy of Fellini's farcical original.

The scary fun of the movie is embodied in a brilliantly filmed and edited chase sequence in which Smith tries to escape the ubiquitous cyber-eyes that see every inch of his flight.

Every once in a while a film comes along that's so inexplicably ghastly that there's just no point in making nice about it.

Kapur can't decide if he's making an art movie or a melodrama, an opera or a soap opera.

This echo of the WWII internment of Japanese-Americans is the only new gimmick in Edward Zwick's entry in the cliche- terrorist genre.

A brainy three-ring circus.

Condon's obvious attempts to draw parallels between Whale's life and his work tend to be heavy-handed, and detract from an otherwise intriguing film.

This material is charged enough without piling on the melodrama and the lip-smacking violence. The movie too often sacrifices reportage for razzle-dazzle.

Living Out Loud is far from seamless -- the last third of the movie has a choppy rhythm and an ending that doesn't quite work -- but it's alive in all the ways that count.

A complex, entertaining film that may have more ideas than it can handle, but certainly has real ideas.

In the end, artifice overwhelms art. Apt Pupil is too serious to work as a genre movie, and too contrived to be taken seriously. [12 October 1998]

Unnerving because it forces us into uncharted waters: Solondz doesn't tell us how to feel but makes us thrash out our responses for ourselves. In doing so, he has made one of the few indelible movies of the year.

Demme is understandably reluctant to linger on the horrors of slavery, but it's a dramaturgical mistake. The quick, shocking flashbacks of Sethe's brutalization by her white masters don't do the job--they're horrific, but with a B movie luridness.

It's harmless fun, but it underutilizes Murphy, who's largely reduced to doing virtuoso variations on his iconic smile.

A noble but supernaturally dull movie.

Everything in Rounders is right there on the surface. Watching it is about as exciting as playing poker with all the cards face up. [14 Sept 1998]

What keeps you in your seat is the acting. Keener, crisply and coolly playing against type, commands the screen. [24 August 1998, p. 58]

This is an elaborate production, but all the jazzy sets and explosions in the world can't disguise the story's complete lack of urgency.

Tamara Jenkins, a first-time writer-director, films the proceedings with such a quirky eye the movie looks like a retro postcard.

Rarely have we seen black love be this sensual.

There's plenty of bravura camera work and two terrific supporting turns from Carla Gugino, as a terrified key witness, and Stan Shaw, as the soul-searching heavyweight champ. De Palma didn't hit the jackpot here, but he certainly didn't roll snake eyes.

The plot is predictable, but the frights are real.

BASEketball feels stale and inert. Still, Parker and Stone have a nice, giddy rapport, and it's a kick to hear traces of Cartman and Kenny in their dude-speak.

This complex tale is told with great buoyancy and wit thanks to the splendid performances.

This film has everything for the all-important female audience: feisty heroines, lots of slapstick, great clothes.

It's amazing how a sense of humor can turn a formula film into a frolic.

Raises Hollywood's depiction of war to a new level.

This spirited rerun, neatly mixing parody and panache, squeezes a surprising amount of fun out of the old war horse.

If the film has a problem, it's that the Farrelly brothers, co-writers and directors, seem content to bunt for long stretches between home runs.

Richard Donner's sequel is more than eager to please -- it's desperate.

Armageddon is as irresistible as it's indefensible.

Dr. Dolittle is a zoo-and a blast. [6 July 1998, p. 67]

Lucky for us there are no ordinary circumstances in this smart, tasty adaptation of the Elmore Leonard novel and it gets quirkier, funnier and sexier as it goes.

It's the characterization of Mulan, both in voice and visuals, that makes the film a keeper.

The only thing you can count on in this exhilarating movie is that nothing is what it seems. Even the borough of Queens looks beautiful.

A miraculous movie. It will rattle both your head and heart

All the surprises strenuously cooked up by screenwriter Patrick Smith Kelly and director Andrew ("The Fugitive") Davis can't overcome the movie's inability to make us care about any of its paper-thin characters.