I'm all for hearty theological debate. But this is intellectual suicide. Even worse, it's boring intellectual suicide.

Here's a hint to tracking down an intelligent, discriminating significant other: stand outside the entrance to a theater showing Must Love Dogs. Once the film begins, look for the first person to walk out.

There's a madcap romp in here somewhere, but Beresford doesn't locate it, despite a fine cast. The script doesn't help. [09 Sep 1994, p.19]

It's still trite and a little too cutesy for its own good. Gay or straight, the cliches remain, but not to a stultifying degree.

Lopez can't decide if she's playing Lavoe's victim or enabler -- the movie sort of half blames her -- and neither of her characters is likable. The music's lovely, though.

Of all the roles where the star has played a character transformed from ordinary to goofy ("The Mask," "Me, Myself & Irene," "Liar Liar"), this is the one where he seems the most human, achieving that elusive quality in a Carrey film: tolerability.

The results are not endearing. Eddie comes off not as a beleaguered Everyman but a heedless, dishonest knob trying to undo a deal that gave him exactly what he deserved. The real surprise is Carlos Mencia, playing an exuberant clerk at the resort hotel. But when Carlos Mencia is the funniest thing in your movie, you've got serious problems.

Jas some nice moments, a great soundtrack and some wonderful works by the dark-even-while-light Ricci.

Takes a look at the bumpy path to self-discovery.

The period details are unconvincing, the cinematography is flat, and the performances are surprisingly one note considering the talent involved.

A charming Rob Reiner film that more or less works as intended.

Bay seems to have been gunning for something along the lines of "Blood Simple" or "A Simple Plan," but Pain & Gain is just plain simple.

It's well-acted and works as a cautionary tale for young dope dealers but beats any hint of subtlety into a bloody pulp.

Banderas' direction is a bit of everything and a lot of not much.

In a way, the film is a kind of experiment: Can you lop off the bulk of a classic work and still have something worth seeing? On this evidence, the answer is, despite the best intentions and some fine work, sadly no.

The movie's atmosphere is moody and intense, bubbling like a caldron. Unfortunately, the broth turns out to be stone soup.

Still, if it doesn't go down in film history as a key moment in Roberts' career, it might very well be remembered as a breakthrough for one of its trio of rising stars.

The uneven filmmaking renders Minot's ideas impossibly trite.

Factory Girl lives fast and dies young, but the corpse it leaves isn't really all that good-looking.

There is such a thoroughgoing nastiness to the plot and dialogue that the film almost achieves a level of buoyancy.

At one and the same time it feels like a decent-but-not-great film of his '70s period and a perky and tart entry in his modestly successful revival in the last half-decade. Neat trick.

It's horrible. It's wretched. It's Limburger pickled in castor oil.

It's a refreshingly human-scale saga.

As satire, it doesn't add up -- but it's an admirable, if dull, experiment.

The tension is so plausibly high that you're eager to see how it winds up. Eager enough, in fact, to forgive Jack Ryan for reversing the aging process and winding up as Ben Affleck.

The two stories never come close to meshing the way the filmmaker intended. The result is a well-acted movie that simply doesn't gel.

The new footage adds almost nothing and feels like a lame, double-dipping cash-grab.

It is thoughtful and well enough acted throughout. [03 Jul 1992]