In this vibrant character study, newcomer Lázaro Ramos plays Francisco with an almost animal intensity.

The sequel to 2003's unexpected and rousing hit offers a lot of the same elements that made the original so enjoyable, but the humor doesn't have the same freshness.

If you subtracted from the story and style components recycled from landmark sci-fi films of Hollywood past, you’d be left with Will Smith wisecracking over a box of unformatted floppies. I, Unimpressed.

The pretentious title might be trying to make a statement about the new, fast-moving economy. It's also a weak reference to the first Wall Street. But mainly, no, it's just pretentious.

The music is catchy. The actors are likeable. It's all pleasant enough to watch but ultimately it's about as substantial as a pop song. Though it's unlikely to stay with you quite so long.

It's capable and strong direction that hold the audience through the final match, but in the end, it's Paul Bettany's world, and the rest of us are just happy to visit for an hour and a half.

As the phrase turns, it's better when things come off WITHOUT a hitch.

It's equal parts shivery and silly -- eyeball popping in slo-mo!

Overall, a modest but lovely achievement for Anderson, Moore, and Harrelson, and a family entertainment in the best senses of the words.

This one aims for bleak and hits it.

Comic-book enthusiasts can breathe a sigh of relief: Brett Ratner hasn't completely ruined the X-Men series a.k.a. "The Franchise that Bryan Singer Built."

That Jarhead is an impressive technical achievement is a given, but ultimately this picture is the last thing any war movie should be: innocuous.

Winslet deserves an Oscar for her amazing performance.

Compelling and exasperating in pretty much equal doses.

The perfect antidote to the post-holiday blues. It's exciting, well-acted, touching, and genuine.

This is one movie that's guaranteed to linger in your mind after you leave the theater, whether you want it to or not.

Quantum, thanks to a deft blend of exotic escapism and bare-bones modernism, is more than strong enough to be judged on its own. In fact, it's the perfect Bond film.

Why is this movie so watchable? Four simple reasons. It's truly funny. It's truly scary. It's truly gruesome. And Samuel L. Jackson is the cool head who prevails (“You stick with me, you live”).

The film is ultimately so repetitive, un-enlightening and lacking in substance, even Drew Carey seems bored by the end when he asks, "When are you guys going to make the 'c*nt' documentary?"

Big Fish really is a big delight.

The sheer absurdity of the presented relationship is redeemed by a sort of surprise ending, but by the time it arrives, you wish it had come sooner, as the pain of viewing has already been interminably long.

Fun, fun, fun. [July/Aug 2003, p.26]

Farrell and Hayek are two beautiful people with absolutely no chemistry. Even when they're lying in bed together, they're so far apart that they might as well be in different movies.

It's just a spectacularly lazy movie that's content to trod the same well-worn ground as its predecessors.

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

While basketball fans might have trouble recognizing the sport as it's played here, the games certainly aren't dull. Unfortunately, most of the off-court sequences are.

I have misgivings about Schreiber's use of the well-worn "I'll make you empathize with these Others, but first let's have laughs at their expense" approach, but eventually I was won over by his humane, moving road trip.

A slick, bloody, fast-paced, and ultimately enjoyable B-movie.