A fascinating experiment in both filmmaking technology and narrative style, but one that can be counted a success only in limited ways.

The story is slight and somewhat less than engaging, despite nice supporting turns from Emily Blunt and Ricky Jay.

The result is a film that's more credible in its building blocks than in its whole.

It's energetic and occasionally inspired. Its gritty, sweaty, shiny feel deepens the case that there's a vital new essence to Brazilian cinema.

World War Z manages to be scary without descending to in-your-face gore -- it wants to frighten its audience, not disgust them.

The always thin tightrope between "laughing at" and "laughing with" is negotiated with success in the low-budget comedy The Foot Fist Way.

Understated fun, but not much more.

There's something refreshingly and truly girlish about the picture's musings and epiphanies that makes its R rating baffling.

They say that history is written by the winners. Well, this is the story of Saint Laurent as told by his surviving partner. And it's, oddly, less about the man than about his things.

In "Upside" Allen's marble face acts as the pressure-cooker lid on a hilarious hissy fit.

For all the flash and sparkle, there's little heat. The Dreamers wants to be "First Tango in Paris." It's more like "Last Tango Under Glass."

The message is troweled on far too thickly at the end, but up to then, Robinson raises legitimate issues with a lively, sardonic and inventive sense of humor. [15 Jul 1989, p.C08]

Laggies doesn't reinvent the wheel, but it puts an engaging spin on the old canard about high school being the best years of our lives.

The film suffers slightly from diminishing returns -- its first third is by far its scariest -- but it's still a bold, artful take on a popular horror idea.

Nothing more and nothing less than a savvy and talented cast having its way with a clever, hilarious script, with absolutely no weighty issues at stake.

Papale's story is more than any fan could dream of, which is why it's frustrating that Invincible feels the need to embellish it. While mentioning he never played football in college, the film ignores that he did play in a semipro league prior to his Eagles tryout.

Suffers by invoking better films about similar themes.

Atmospheric, absorbing and completely in the control of the man who made it -- unlike, especially, “Bringing Out the Dead,” which it sometimes resembles.

The cinematography is crisp but sterile, and no one's clothes ever seem to get muddy or torn -- in short, there's no real sense of the atmosphere of a sticky, buggy, fetid jungle, and no intensity to a story that cries out for a sense of moral outrage.

Ultimately, ATL is the same old teenager angst in a mildly novel package.

It’s not earth-shaking, but it’s diverting and polished.

It's jaunty and bright, but Pray never gets under the skin of things or ever truly questions the essence of advertising as an art or trade.

With his periodic porn-star mustache, shaggy hair and reckless demeanor, the movie Stander embodies a certain brand of brooding outlaw cool that feels increasingly rare.

It's modestly effective at creating a mood and at critiquing both business place mores and the evils of Western hubris. But, chiefly, it's about gory scares and sniffling laughs.

The moments of accidental sweetness that emerge from these odd, ultra-lives are meltingly funny and touching.

V for Vendetta puts its ideological intent first, and happens to provide smashing entertainment only as a vehicle for delivering its message.

It's solidly entertaining, with Downey's roguish charm as appealing as ever.

While Coulter and company try gamely to forge two powerful stories, they manage, finally, about one-and-a-half -- which is a lot more than most films, and for which moviegoers should be grateful.

Dotted with real laughs and held together by some solid acting, but it's built of a fairly flaccid narrative and some really amateurish sequences.

Spike Lee wanted for years to make a Jackie Robinson film, and I hope he still gets his chance. Another take, maybe angrier or more polemic, could be fascinating, and the heroism of Jackie Robinson was significant enough to justify more than a few movies.

A mordant, almost-too-dark comedy, but a comedy nonetheless.

The standout is Baldwin, utterly convincing as a gruff cuss whose life has been forever stained by the death of his wife.

Enough. There's no fun in bashing a Piglet movie, even a nickel-cadging spinoff.

The worry regarding 2014's Godzilla was that it would seem like a retread of recent big-budget monster mashes "Cloverfield" or "Pacific Rim," or, worse yet, that it would sink to the depths of the 1998 American reboot. Happily, though, this one can stand on its own two enormous three-toed feet.

By gilding the lily so shamelessly, Ewing and Grady guarantee they'll preach only to the converted.

The film has a spry quality, but the jokes are neither funny nor dark enough, the quirky roadside episodes aren't sufficiently outlandish or imaginative, the romantic sparks don't convince and the plotting becomes increasingly silly and tedious. Dukic conjures an air of play and naughtiness, but that's about as deep as he cuts.

Taken as a whole -- and it kills me to write this -- it just doesn't add up to much.

Unbelievably, "Prelude To A Kiss" works. [10 Jul 1992, p.15]

Adapted by Polanski and his longtime collaborators Gerard Brach and John Brownjohn from a novel by Pascal Bruckner, Bitter Moon works as a kinky sex farce, comedy of manners and playful spin on national stereotypes. [22 Apr 1994, p.AE15]

For most of its running time, it's a riveting rendition of a stranger-than-fiction tale.

The subtle menace of the would-be geneticist of the Master Race mingles with ordinary pre-teen foreboding to create a riveting cocktail of unease.

It manages the weird feat of making a flock of sheep bounding across a meadow seem vaguely menacing.

The problem is the song. It was gone as soon as it ended, a forgettable piece of soft-pop that was never going to be a hit, whatever the arrangement or the singer.

This may be the best work we've seen from either actor, which is saying something.

It's a movie, finally, that feels longer than its exquisitely brief source material, which is a crime of sorts.

Whatever you make of the film's politics, Luke makes a vivid impression in his most substantial role since "Antwone Fisher," and Robbins resists the temptation to make the thinly written Vos a villainous caricature.

A sweet, loopy British comedy filled with good actors and funny moments.

It's creepy, but it's not horrifying. Still, the movie has its distorted, haunting moments that will stick with you, and it's stunning to look at.

For all its attempts at wrinkles and surprises and sleight-of-hand, Ocean's Thirteen is too direct and plain and pleased with itself to ever feel like a thriller.

Ultimately, though, it's unfortunate that the movie tries to make so many oblique comparisons to more modern tragedy (paparazzi with sketchbooks; yes, we get it!), since Georgiana's life seems fascinating enough on its own.

The documentary's soundtrack is composed entirely of Source Family music, and some of it's not half bad.

It's not a bad movie, but Big Eyes might have been better off if it had sold its audience the same bill of goods Walter Keane sold America.

Nest of Spies may be a small, subtitled release, but it's also a gauntlet thrown at the feet of the upcoming big-screen adaptation of "Get Smart." See it and you'll have a substantial idea of what a spy comedy should be.

The film has a candy-colored look that stands in well for the books' primitive appeal. And the all-star cast of vocal performers -- Will Ferrell as Yellow Hat, Dick Van Dyke as his boss, David Cross as his rival, Drew Barrymore as his sweetie -- aim squarely and appropriately at a 4-year-old audience.

It isn't art, it's will-o-the-wisp thin, but it might well make you squirt your soda through your nose. And as there seem to be a number of people willing to pay good money for that sensation, there's glory for you!

The film has a rich visual tone and a sparse narrative quality. [05 Oct 1990, p.E15]

With all its pedestrian moments, the film still has the power to sweep you up.

Filled with skewed humor, inventive animation and earthy jokes.

Feels as true as a documentary, as painful as a blow to the heart.

You go into an Austin Powers movie with a big grin on -- or at least you should. The charm of this one is that you leave smiling even more broadly.

As writer/director, he manages to make both Morrison and the period seem real without being self-conscious, an observed milieu rather than a film set. [01 Mar 1991]

Unfortunately, the precision and presence Hurt brings to the table aren't enough to carry this warmed-over Southern melodrama.

Mullan makes the journey more than worthwhile, but don't go in expecting profundity.

Seraphim isn't totally satisfying, even if you're prepared for an arty Western. It's pokey and odd in a distant, slightly self-conscious way.

The film moves too slowly and dispassionately to resonate as it should.

Exciting, gory, funny and, like much of anime, a bit cheesy.

Finding Forrester achieves a distinct success few Hollywood movies can even dream of: It overwhelms and inspires with understatement.

It's an agreeable, sometimes hilarious picture that looks at the world of comedy from many vantage points, chiefly the apex.

Ends up being one of those heartbreaking movies that gets off to a promising start but never quite creaks to life, despite everyone's obvious best efforts.

C.S.A. has a love-it-or-hate-it bite that probably will lead to a few passionate post-screening discussions.

If you've been wondering what Billy Elliot would look like all grown up, naked or in a fetching frock, here's your chance.

It's just a shame that the search for the missing formula ends up feeling so formulaic.

All you could hope for from a summer movie: dazzling action, jaw-dropping effects, cool clothes, steamy romance and more of the nifty "Matrix" mythology introduced in the 1999 original.

It's a stylish work, seeping with brilliant animation and potentially interesting characters that didn't need so much time to establish themselves. It's worthwhile, but it's a good thing there's a television show to refer to.

Ted may not be profound or deft, but when it hits the sweet-sour spot, which it does regularly, it can win you over.

The sort of movie that makes you feel like a heel for not liking it: Independently made and heartfelt, it also happens to have been shot in Portland. Nonetheless, the accumulation of cliches big and small manage to erase whatever goodwill its other features have engendered.

Baghead has a nearly documentary quality that infuses it with a sense of heightened stakes and real peril. In a characteristically offhanded way, it's cunningly skillful.

To my thinking, this splendid low-key bummer of a ghost story was eventually undermined by the film's increasing reliance on shock-scares, in which something suddenly and noisily jumps into the frame, over and over and over.

It's splendid period filmmaking, grown-up and luxurious and gossipy without ever feeling fussy.

Despite the whiplike pace of events and the compelling realism of the martial effects, the film is dead in the water whenever it pauses to make a human gesture or consider, heaven help us, an idea.

A mean-spirited exercise in hypocrisy.

So funny and sweet and observant - and so much warmer than other family films that feign hipness through product placement and pop culture references - you won't mind that the steps feel familiar.

A sort of anti-date movie, a smart but deeply cynical study in failure, with our sense of loss growing in direct proportion to the characters' romantic hopes.

Comedy means different things to different people, but I'm pretty sure that most everyone agrees that it's best when it's quick and funny. The Five-Year Engagement is neither.

Empire of the Sun is such a grand, successful blend of epic filmmaking and personal drama, it's hard to believe Steven Spielberg made it. [11 Dec 1987, p.G15]

Clever but, alas, largely forgettable.

Hilarious parody of rap subculture and attitudes, packed with in-jokes but accessible to viewers not steeped in the genre. The profanity-intolerant will want to steer clear, however. [15 Jul 1994, p.AE24]

In addition to being a funny movie about the movie business, it's a cheeky, ingenious motion picture puzzle.

With a deft touch that veers from wry, absurd humor to appalled outrage, the Italian journalist and satirist Pierfrancesco Diliberto makes a noteworthy film debut with The Mafia Kills Only in the Summer.

If I believed in the concept of "guilty pleasures," I'd classify "Centurion" as one, but I think I maybe just kind of enjoyed it.

There is something, well, awesome about watching these vivid young women realize that music isn't always made on computers as they give their bands cool names like the Ready and get onstage after five days and ferociously sing earnest lyrics they wrote themselves.

There's something personal going on, something deeper than slapstick. It makes a sometimes flat film shimmer.

This is a beautiful, moving picture about a love affair between two very different Chinese men.

Agreeably entertaining, peppered with rich laughs and very nice actorly touches.

An exquisitely crafted film filled with little shocks and deep echoes of humanity. It'll stick with you.

Watching it is like filling up on baklava: Later you may feel really guilty, but you don't exactly complain while it's going on.

An impressive work in many regards -- the acting, the photography, the pace -- but it would've been even more so had Egoyan gone with his gut and been less indulgent of his brain.

A compelling examination of a complex topic.