It's a thriller, and a large one, and it's got a couple of terrific performers in the center.

Graham is the most affecting character by far, having returned to India for the first time in 40 years to track down an old lover. His story unfolds in surprising, deftly handled ways, and could easily have justified a film of its own.

If your tolerance for envelope-pushing crudeness and deadpan delirium allows it, this crass comedy might be just what the gastroenterologist ordered.

What Johansson does in Lucy won't win her any prizes, but it establishes her ability to carry a movie that has some ideas, however half-baked, and has nothing to do with her obvious sex appeal.

Effortless fun: It plays like a giddy horror movie with its laughs wrapped in couture gowns.

The script's contrivances and the director's lax handling aren't enough to hold you.

It does a nice job of balancing stillness and action, but it hits weakly when it hits at all and falls short of the small grandness to which it aspires.

Works like a funnier "Austin Powers" -- you laugh just enough to want to see the whole thing again.

Slight but winning.

Pierce never pulls these pieces together satisfyingly, and the result is a botched effort to put a human face on a genuinely alarming situation.

It's contrived, but that doesn't keep it from being kinda nifty.

Really a vehicle for Dunst, which would be fine if only the vehicle were more inspired.

There's little that will surprise anyone who's seen or read Grisham's work before, but it plays with slick competence, and there's that killer-diller showdown in the middle as a payoff.

It's the type of film that may be forgiven its imperfections when they are compared with the vastness of its accomplishments.

There's almost nothing to grab onto. It's like a gorgeous graphic novel with a protagonist and story that vanish utterly from the mind as soon as the last page is turned.

In spite of its familiar outlines, director Rob Meyer's first feature benefits from an authentic script and performances.

At its more abstract moments, it's a treat for the eye and the soul.

Schlesinger's adaptation of Nathaniel West's classic novella, the Hollywood of the 1930s is decidedly as ruinous for its denizens as the Hollywood of the 1970s. [28 Jul 2000]

Reinhold and Savage play off each other well, and Savage is impressively convincing as a 35-year-old trapped in his son's body. You've seen worse. And will again. [11 Mar 1988]

The characters aren't clever or cool enough to command attention in the visually busy world the Laika animators have created, and the story starts abruptly and ends in a very familiar place. It's hard to believe so much talent went into making The Boxtrolls without a better script to support it.

Unfortunately, the film loses its merciless rage toward the end, devolving into a stock and broadly comic thriller about unpleasant people you never quite get to know.

Israeli society is one that has ample experience processing grief, and Nina's Tragedies explores that challenge with humanity and humor.

Alan Arkin is charm itself as the girls' dreamy father. Indeed, director Christine Jeffs coaxes only good work from the whole of her cast.

Generally, thanks to solid performances and very nice cinematography, it hits, if not a home run, at least a solid double (or the British equivalent).

A genuinely handsome film, and it tells a story that is well worth knowing. It's a kind, gentle and sweet holiday confection. But my Christmas wish is that the DVD comes packaged with the book.

The most adventuresome element in The Wackness isn't its pop-culture skin but the unlikely friendship of Luke and Squires...As buddies, they're a kick. But you wish they had a kickier picture to support them.

Doesn't make the case that watching truly bad movies is worthwhile. But it does make you realize that nobody gets up in the morning, showers, breakfasts, dresses and goes to work thinking they're making the worst film in history, either.

You're either on the boat or off the boat with something like this. But for those willing to brave the open water, it's an awe-inspiring ride.

Like many things about Brick Lane, this story is dealt with in too cursory and pat a fashion. The film's heart can't be faulted, but its head is working in a regrettably low gear.

Utterly thrilling and enthralling, a commercial film that paces itself wonderfully, never allowing the action or romance to outweigh its story and characters. For mainstream adventure fare, that's quite an accomplishment.

The "Citizen Kane" of rat movies makes for a terrific overhaul in this wonderfully entertaining and, yes, touching take on that terribly confused man/child named Willard.

The good news is that this movie is no "Spanglish;" the bad news is that Sandler's performance is actually better than the material deserves.

Not every gag works, and McKay's directing style could best be described as loose, but the last 30 minutes, when Burgundy goes blind, recovers, and leads a cameo-studded throwdown in Central Park, are worth an hour of Durango commercials.

Van Peebles seems just a bit more interested in how he has his say than what he has to say, but New Jack City could be the beginning of an interesting career. [8 Mar 1991, p.E13]

Hirsch gives a finely tuned performance, almost absent of technique or self-consciousness, which dovetails nicely with Dorff's more expressive, method approach.

Almost nothing that's said or done here is convincing. And the energy is set at near-coma level.

The film drags and lingers and goes more or less nowhere, imitating its protagonists' lives so exactly that you want to give them both a good smack.

The result is an experience of painful awakenings, gorgeous textures, committed acting and silences filled with moment -- a lovely balancing act

Despite a cast of solid actors and a director with one of the most exquisite visual sensibilities in the business, the film is too often flat when we want it to dazzle us.

There's a potentially innovative teen comedy in here somewhere, but it's surrounded by one that's much duller.

The single most impressive thing about the film, in fact, is the taste that this shotgun technique gives of the mass simultaneity of the race.

The writers keep the funny lines coming steadily, and Frears gets good work from all. [02 Oct 1992, p.17]

Fiercely acted but made with indifferent craft and no palpable feel for its subject matter, Trucker takes you on a ride from intrigue to indifference.

A treat for the eyes and the heart.

Plods and frustrates, but forgivably, it is a deeply felt picture.

Viewers looking for a big, political potboiler will be disappointed: Check your cloak and dagger at the door. But the film does have emotional fire.

Compelling and superbly acted.

While the script of Frida struggles at times to be something more than an ordinary and-then-this-happened biography, there's a buoyancy to the direction and acting that make the film special.

A spare, internally emotional movie like One requires something called screen presence. Its two leads have it.

Magic Mike XXL might be a good time on a summer evening, a one-night stand best forgotten before the sun rises, but it is not a good movie. It's boring, repetitive and lunk-headed.

You can't help but feel a connection to Downey and Foxx and, to a lesser degree, a rooting interest in the story. But try as Wright might, he never figures out a way to bring us in -- much less manipulate us -- cinematically.

For his directorial debut, British actor Charles Dance tackles such familiar English themes as repressed desire and an arm's-length fascination with foreigners. Luckily for the slight story, he has recruited two of the most effortlessly brilliant grande dames of British film.

A sour, deflating and ultimately unlikable black comedy about how awful life can be.

The result is a handsome but deeply fractured tale.

Its easy to see why Don Cheadle wanted to play Samir Horn, the hero of the post-9/11 thriller Traitor. Cheadles face is basically a perfect delivery system for woe, sadness and internal conflict. And Samir a deep-cover operative trying to infiltrate a terrorist outfit has to make brutal Sophies Choices roughly three times a day.

Blue Crush, which might appear exciting in an "Endless Summer"/"Where the Boys Are" kind of way, actually is really boring.

Capitalism lacks the surprising wit of “Roger & Me” and the sobering comparative journalism of “Sicko,” and it isn’t nearly as heartfelt as “Columbine,” which poignantly and repeatedly circled back to Moore’s beloved home state of Michigan.

It's all mildly uplifting in the way of an unchallenging sermon.

John Cassavetes walked a jagged knife-edge of improvised drama, a high-stakes game of chicken with the actors and with chance itself. But Nick Cassavetes plays it safer, sometimes reducing existential heroes to sentimental cartoons. Still, She's So Lovely has plenty of great stuff: original, realistic gunplay, fearlessly unglamorous acting and one excellently hairy hairpin turn in the story. [29 Aug 1997, p.23]

The scenes between Gainsbourg and Skarsgard are fewer and less engaging than in the first volume, and the dichotomy between them is simpler and more obvious. And that doesn't even include an ending that is as impulsive and deranged as anything Joe comes up with during all of her taboo-breaking adventures.

As in so many films directed by actors, there's a generosity shown to performance that results in many lifelike moments.

Sidney Poitier and Lilia Skala make a fine odd couple in this whimsical drama of a wandering handyman who is persuaded to help a tiny community of German nuns build a convent in the American desert. [25 Dec 1992, p.AE05]

"Fast Five" and Fast & Furious 6 -- the newest, nearly-as-much-dumb-fun sequel -- play more like "The Avengers" than they don't.

There's potential here, as well as in Junn's touching relationship with a fellow resident at the home, for real intensity, but Khaou insists on sticking with a glacial pace and lip-trembling emotional repression when a little bit of melodrama might have gone a long way.

Once the story proper begins, it too feels slightly out of time.

A stylish and unnerving thriller that sucks you into surreal scenes of horror with the chilly confidence of a nightmare.

Which leads to the question of whether Extract, clunky title aside, will finally give Judge a box-office hit. It looks and quacks like "Office Space," and previous satirical edges have been sanded down to something palatable to average filmgoers. On the other hand, it largely lacks the audacious elements that have given stuff like "The Hangover" an intense word-of-mouth following.

The surprisingly funny Role Models does three things extremely well. It gives killer roles to comic actors frequently stuck in ensembles. It directs hilariously harsh words at children and lets the children direct even harsher words back at the adults. And it's oddly determined to give a fair shake to fans of both medieval role-playing and the band Kiss.

In the main, this is powerful and comely filmmaking, and the decision to shoot it with virtually unknown actors and a variety of unfamiliar tongues is commendable.

The resulting film, while derivative, is worth the price of admission.

An often pedestrian film, one that never inflates to the epic grandeur to which it aspires or transfers its own emotional trajectory off the screen and into the viewer.

The domestic and romantic turmoil all gets resolved a bit too neatly to seem realistic, but realism isn't the goal; this is comfort food, plain and simple, and achieves its modest goals in nearly effortless fashion.

Loses something when it depends on its computer-generated creatures to carry the story. The effects are a mile above the previous Hulk film, but there's still a certain awkwardness to some movements, and an odd lack of definition to the massive muscles that makes them seem like gelatinous sacks of meat.

Adult World is amusing, if a bit by the numbers.

There is a formulaic inevitability to the ferocious finale, but good writing and superb, intelligent acting keep the movie fresh and tense to the last moment. [27 June 1992, p.C08]

With its fiery tone and fierce intensity, East-West offers a profile of a country suspended in fear as well as of one woman's indomitable passion for freedom.

Beautifully acted, the film is touchingly human and, thankfully, devoid of any vapid, ironic kitsch.

Atmospheric and genial, and you've got to love the spectacle of a dog driving a car or parading around town like the unofficial mayor.

This is a grim, often lifeless tale played with such humorless intensity that watching it is far more like an endurance contest than a love affair.

The film is never less than beautiful, but it's never truly absorbing.

LaBeouf is likable and grounded, two things you need from the lead in a film like this, although his female co-stars seem to have been cast based on how well their Maxim covers would sell.

Three potent performances readily compensate for the familiar plot.

There are moments of exceptional sweetness in Faraway, So Close, and Jurgen Jurges' photography is fine, though not as indelible as Henri Alekan's work in "Wings of Desire." But the film feels both too long and too truncated, with plot twists left dangling in the wind. [04 Feb 1994, p.15]

If you love the genre, you'll likely be engaged. But if not, there's not much point.

This unique cinematic experience is a parable of greed and revenge that could take place anywhere.

By combining formulaic screenwriting and downbeat art house clichés, the ending puts a significant damper on what had been a fascinating character study.

An utterly convincing portrait of the sort of person willing to strap ordnance to himself and decimate scores of strangers in pursuit of his religious and political ideals.

The result is a newly revived spy movie franchise -- and the best big-budget action film of the summer.

Good intentions and strong thespians aside, Seidelman's writing and filmmaking are bland, obvious and uninvolving.

Although the primary plot line turns out to be a letdown, there are aspects of The Machinist that redeem it. Bale's performance is one; another is the dull, metallic look of the picture.

The movie's a solid fish-out-of-water thriller that just happens to be populated by a few folks with adamantium skeletons or poison saliva on their résumés.

Ultimately, it's a formulaic sports movie for kids that hits the expected dramatic beats.

OK, got it. It's a spy movie spoof, "Austin Powers" with more violence and less camp, a Bond parody that zeroes in on the Roger Moore era, when the sets and gadgets got bigger and the stories got dumber.

You find yourself wishing that Apatow had managed a script that was either really funny or about real people instead of this half-baked pseudo-memoir that's neither.

Not bad, no need to wake Roger Moore from his mid-morning nap and bring him out of retirement, but not special.

Starts with a flourish, staggers along for a bit and finally collapses -- even die-hard De Palma fans, will be left hungry.

Although Lloyd's performance (reminiscent in mannerism to Haley Joel Osment), sometimes drags, it's the only real defect in a surprisingly effective film that doesn't stoop to offer easy answers.

Our Idiot Brother lives in a sort of relaxed in-between place where it doesn't really bite as drama or comedy, but the movie's world-class cast and big heart push it over.