This Hairspray really is a lot of fun -- colorful, sassy, and brisk.

Fear not those who worried about Raimi after the last "Spiderman" debacle. There is no musical number here. The tongue is planted firmly in-cheek. The spirit of "Evil Dead" lives on.

This is one unmarked van you just might want to take a ride with.

Surprisingly light on fab gadgets, there are, of course, double crosses, fast cars, and lots of gunplay.

An amply entertaining tale of survival terror, fully realizing the epicness of Romero's vision by infecting every wide-angled overhead shot with as many computer-generated cadavers as possible, and bridging tense moments with a laugh-aloud, plucky wit.

Some might not even notice what's going on when director Walter Salles finally shows his hand, and ends the film with documentary footage of the real-life Granado, now aged 81, romping in the earthly paradise that is present-day Cuba.

The film also has an unexpected and rich vein of humor. John Carroll Lynch -- you might know him as Norm Gunderson of "Fargo" -- is a stitch as a neighbor of the Burkes.

Once you drink The Producers' Kool-Aid, it's a thoroughly enjoyable descent into madness.

The settings are handsome, the cinematography accomplished, the performances first-rate.

Lee’s use of split-screens and dynamic transitions makes the process of actively interpreting his monstrous vision a fresh and unrivaled experience.

One thing not open to question is that the real heroes of this movie are Johnston's family, particularly his aging parents, who for all their heartbreak are palpably full of love and forbearance for their disturbed and, yes, talented boy.

One of the most diabolical things about this psychological thriller is just how open to interpretation it is.

When it works, it really works, but it's debatable whether its target audience will really enjoy anything more than the nifty robots. Which is fine, too. Robots are pretty cool.

In the end it's still Gilliam Lite, but Gilliam Lite is better than no Gilliam at all.

While Solondz's world is a hell hole and Anderson's "Rushmore" is a place of high-toned and often poignant whimsy, Napoleon Dynamite's unceasing burlesque creates a world that is pretty much a cartoon--and it's a damn funny cartoon to boot.

Borat is, in many ways, an heir to the same kind of subversion of American norms that the transvestite Divine perfected in John Waters’ early films.

It gives you everything you ever loved about the series, and blows it out into super-size cinematic proportions.

Doesn't always work -- like its title, the movie straddles two separate worlds, landing squarely in the dreaded realm of "dramedy" -- but it's a noble effort.

A riveting urban drama that tackles a myriad of sociopolitical issues -- conflicts of race, sex, class, marriage and politics -- without spreading itself thin.

Stardust is an eye-poppingly elaborate fantasy that's shot through with action-movie adrenaline and attitude.

Stick it out through the first ten incoherent minutes or so, and Stealth is an invigorating reward, especially the tense final half-hour.

It's at times implausible and heavy-handed, but thrillers need villains and it's not like the Ba'ath Party had an exclusive license on 'em.

This is Gere’s movie, and Sarandon and Lopez graciously let him dance away with it.

Soderberg provides a cornucopia of fizzy, post–New Wave imagery, fitting for a picture that’s pretty much all about surfaces.

Though the plot has a few too many holes in it, the sheer fun of RockNRolla makes it easy to overlook such quibbles. Butler will make you forget all about "Sparta."

Features some of the best fight and chase footage you'll see all summer.

Through a haze of opium smoke and Molotov cocktails igniting, Regular Lovers plays out like the heavier politicized and unsentimentalized counterpoint to Bernardo Bertolucci's "The Dreamers."

Deeply nuts and exhaustingly hilarious.