As is the case with many English comedies, some of the film's slang is hard to understand. But Jennings' sprightly films proves that although England and America are countries divided by the same language, they are united by slapstick comedy.

It's fair to say that Coach Carter is more an education film than it is a sports movie.

The film is a small and polished gem that proves that with a friend like Harry, nobody needs an enemy.

A keen observational seriocomedy, The Syrian Bride, like "Paradise Now," suggests that all residents of the Middle East, no matter their faith or their nationality, are more alike than not.

For a movie about community and forgiveness, family and grace, Pieces of April is refreshingly unsappy.

While it flirts with the ridiculous, the film manages to maintain a certain gravitas as its many stories unfold.

If you can stomach the hard-R rating, this is a smart, sexy and funny sprint.

Crowe is so good on mood and milieu that when Elton John's bubblegum ballad "Tiny Dancer" swells on the soundtrack, in this context it sounds like a hymn.

Joy's entry into the world of entrepreneurship has the crazy trajectory of a rocket gone haywire, and Russell's movie is kind of haywire, too.

Documents the emotional and spiritual journey of three orphans.

At the heart of the film, Polley - with her wary, unsure stares, her open smile and beguiling intelligence - is terrific.

A spare and moving study of regret and redemption, marked with chilling truths about a life behind bars.

Pacific Rim shares much with the Mexican filmmaker's "Hellboy" franchise - jokey and comic book-y, full of muscular tableaus with huge squads of people coming and going (and running for their lives).

Some numbers: Hawn and Sarandon (both 56) are arguably the first women in American popular culture to be pushing 60 and sexy. Hard to believe, but when Joan Crawford and Bette Davis were comparable ages (59 and 54), they were the frightening gargoyles of "What Ever Happened to Baby Jane?"

Intriguing, provocative stuff.

Never less than engaging.

Both a concert film and a more intimate thing: a fascinating, fly-on-the-wall (or fly-in-the-dining-car) glimpse of some clearly blotto rock legends talking, singing, hanging out. The fact that a good number of them are now dead makes it doubly memorable.

Apart from Luna's exquisitely subtle performance, Criminal's strongest suit is the so-artless-it's-artful cinematography by Chris Menges, which gives the impression of being shot by a fly on the wall. Similarly, Alex Wurman's jazz-infused score contributes to the improvisational atmosphere.

Fiennes does this sort of inner pain thing exceedingly well, Tyler is beguiling and believable, and there is an edge of wit and grace to the proceedings.

Zooms along with confidence, smarts, and some of the coolest car chases this side of the Indy 500.

It's quite a lot of fun.

An enjoyably clever and cartoonishly gory rom-zom-com.

Partly because of Caine and partly because of meticulous work by veteran director Norman Jewison, The Statement is a fiction done so effectively, it rings true -- even slick lines that may otherwise be rancid.

Apart from Connery, the star of the film is Mamet's deadpan script, which obviously inspired one of the movie's baldest old-movie tributes.

Affleck is more interested in the people in the midst of the action than he is in the action itself, and that gives this accomplished genre piece considerable and compelling depth.

Whip It (which takes its name from a play in which skaters hold hands and form a human whip to propel the last skater forward) is heaven on wheels.

Like many Apatow films, Bridesmaids has a rambling, disjointed quality, crammed with sequences that elicit laughs without advancing plot.

That's what Blue Crush is getting at: girls going for the gold in a sport that's traditionally been the domain of men.

Blithely funny and on-the-money movie.

Gluck is not a visual storyteller. He depends entirely on his performers and their snappy dialogue.

While the movie feels shelf-worn, Efron's performance is fresh.

That this ambitious, if deeply odd, film is so compulsively watchable is a credit to Gibson's compelling performances, both as spiritless Walter and the Cockney-accented voice of the tireless title character.

Undertow has the plain, stark, disturbing quality that marked the original "Cape Fear" and "In Cold Blood."

Isn't as strong a film as it could have been: Only teasing slices of these people's lives are offered.

Deftly filmed and directed by Jean-François Richet.

It's a minor work in the Yimou canon, but a major visual treat.

Despite its title, Outrage is calm, riveting, and provocative.

De Niro's minimalist performance has maximum emotional impact and succeeds in unifying the episodic film.

Great? No. Great fun? Oh, yes. Like Sergio and Aldous, this movie messes with your mind, then tickles it.

An examination of loneliness and the need to connect in an increasingly disconnected world, What Happened Was . . . is disturbing, funny and unpredictable in the way people themselves are disturbing, funny and unpredictable. [07 Oct 1994, p.05]

Blessed are the Pythons for making holy wit of the Holy Writ.

This soulful tale of a teenage underachiever who exhibits flashes of genius is a surprise on the order of wandering the movie desert and finding the Garden of Eden.

Rohmer pulls off a wonderful feat: celebrating the elegance, and artifice, of another era at the same time he brings this tale of social upheaval boldly into the present.

For the first half-hour I, too, demurred. And then the irresistible force that is Hugh Jackman -- or was it his swoony Leopold? -- swept me off my seat and into the movie.

It's a comedy that knows that no matter one's ethnicity, human foibles, follies and hopes are universal.

Smart, funny, and gross (often at the same time).

Though it's rife with unexpected scene-stealers, the movie belongs to Lemmon and Matthau, that perfect complement of treacle and acid. [02 July 1997, p.D01]

A smart comedy that serves as both bittersweet coming-of-age tale and '90s nostalgia piece, The Wackness has the feel of authenticity about it, even if some of its details (the ice cream cart, and the therapist's bong, for two) seem a bit much.

Patric and Liotta get the chance to do some heavy riffing on themes of honor, sacrifice, selling out and self-destructing, and the bleak, smeared world of drugs and violence is brought to the fore with feverish style.

A sleek little meditation on beauty, desire, love and time. Now and then, it's fairly sophisticated stuff.

Zany screwball farce.

Lush. Debauched. Ravishing. And did I mention sexy?

Hilarious fun.

Relationships - between men and women, fathers and sons - are more complicated in real life, and The Boys Are Back deftly acknowledges that fact.

The Signal is a road movie turned upside down and inside out.

Despite its familiar formula, feels fresh.

A good-natured comedy of errors from Belgium, should elicit smiles, if not belly laughs.

Serrill has shot and edited The Heart of the Game in straightforward documentary style, with a narration by the rapper and actor Ludacris. But the dramas going on here, on and off the court, more than make up for any lack of flash.

The country goes unnamed, the warring factions aren't always clear, but the nightmarish exploitation of children is made specific in the most vivid, visceral ways.

Stiles is lovely, forthright and believable, so much so that when the scene shifts back to storybook Denmark (actually shot in Prague), she grounds this fluff in recognizable reality.

Has two or three booming and intense action sequences that may leave the littlest audience members more quaking than charmed. But the notion of having a pet dragon - just like a pet whale, or a pet lion - is a scenario that should appeal to children of all ages.

The contrast in lifestyles is striking, and I suppose one of the themes that Babies is trying to get at is that despite chasm-wide economic and societal differences, infants are really all the same.

It's a character study, nicely realized.

Often ingenious, funny and unnerving. [14 Oct 1994, p.14]

It's the kind of film -- like Diane Keaton's "Hanging Up" -- that even as it dissolves narratively, still makes you dissolve emotionally.

Goosebumps fulfills its purpose, and that's what matters.

Among contemporary films, fans will recognize extensive borrowings from Terminator and Alien. But Donaldson makes sure we wind up with something more than Alienator: Species shrewdly manipulates some very modern fears of deadly sexual infection and touches a paranoia unimaginable back in the '50s. [07 July 1995, p.03]

A sharp, intricate political drama.

Like Johnny's rants, Naked is a revelation, a parable of spiritual homelessness and the terror it engenders.

An exceptional film -- unpacks long-buried suitcases, both figuratively and literally.

Not only is there no magnetism between Fiennes and Lopez, he's a lead balloon and she's helium-filled. Happily, their odd chemistry doesn't sink this fairy tale.

Overplayed by a toupeed'n'tucked Pacino, Bank is made up to resemble Hollywood mogul Robert Evans, who produced Pacino in The Godfather. It's an inside joke for outsiders. As are the many references to the Corleone family saga.

More on-the-money than Nine to Five and a refreshing change from the Armani-clad piranhas of Wall Street, Clockwatchers contrives the rare feat of being both funny and depressing. [12 Jun 1998, p.14]

For a comedy about autoerotic asphyxiation, epic deception, and shameless exploitation, World's Greatest Dad is a surprisingly sweet and tender affair.

A pessimistic chronicle that even optimistic 8-year-olds can love.

Story and collaborators succeed in making a courtship comedy that will entertain women and amuse men.

It is understatement to say that Nicholson does some of the finest work of his career here, easily equaling "The Shining" for gargoyle monstrousness and "As Good as It Gets" for tortured humanism.

The problem with The Perfect Storm is that while its roiling collision of weather systems is pulled off with cinematic deftness, the actors who stand there getting lashed and splashed don't have anything terribly interesting to say.

Stevie is compelling, real-life drama: bleak and disturbing, but illuminating all the same.

It is a challenging film, if not always a narratively cohesive one.

David Wain's riotous, raunchy, and more than a little raggedy showcase for Rudd's improv genius and Aniston's airy groundedness. He is gut-busting funny, she gently ticklish - ideal comic rapport.

The late John Hughes would have liked Bandslam, an upbeat high school musical that plays like a garage-band cover of "The Breakfast Club."

A wistful little thing about regret, jealousy and love.

A deeply involving and disturbing movie.

Filled with breathtaking shots of crazed nutballs on skis plummeting down pitched peaks at high speed, Steep is a visually exhilarating sports documentary that is also more than a little exasperating.

Delightfully reflect the abandonment of the old image and way of life.

It addresses the essential human need for dignity, for freedom, for mastery over one's life.

This is a very New York film with a distinctly vintage atmosphere thanks to the sepia tint and cool jazz that plays throughout scenes - and sometimes over the dialogue.

Robert Altman's droll 1976 deconstruction of a western icon with Paul Newman in peak form. [12 May 2001, p.E01]

In his newest film Egoyan memorably gets under the skin of the skin trade. [10 Mar 1995, p.03]

While this hugely likable cast is, indeed, hugely likable, no one's sweating things at all. The comedy's relaxed, moony rhythms imbue it with a certain charm, but can result in a certain stop-and-start awkwardness, too.

Unravels a bit heading toward its finale, as buildings explode and characters are forced to explain themselves and their nefarious motives. But the payoff at the end - at once kind of radical and gratuitous - delivers a wallop.

Dinner for Schmucks goes up in flames. Amusingly, perhaps -- but creatively, too.

A slaphappy, slapdash type of affair familiar to fans of Cheech & Chong and Pauly Shore. It's your basic object lesson in why marijuana is called dope.

For actresses of a certain age, Jarmusch's film amounts to a full-employment act...Best are Stone, transparent in her desire, and Conroy, completely opaque.

So suggestively atmospheric is Amelia Vincent's cinematography and Robin Standefer's art direction that mood -- and of course Jackson's performance -- sustains the movie.

Creepy and compelling and beautifully shot, The Devil's Backbone is a tale of the supernatural that feels completely natural. Its realness is what makes it so scary.

On the whole, it's a mess of action clichés built on top of a shaky premise that's so out-of-this-world that it'll either enrage you - or make you laugh. I chose the latter. I'm not ashamed to admit that I had a lot of fun at this movie.