It’s surprisingly funny for another weak "American Pie" rip-off; Nicholas D'Agosto and Eric Christian Olsen make a hilarious pair; If you're under the age of 25 you’ll like it.

The dynamic between Leonard and his lovers is uncomfortable and not in the good way like Ricky Gervais's dancing.

This picture reminded me of one of the things I like best about "All the President’s Men": It doesn’t give a good godd--- about Woodward and Bernstein’s personal lives.

It might have been better to have played it straight — small instead of epic, chronological instead of deconstructed — and to give his characters some explicitness in history instead of the bedroom.

Wisely unbiased-but also unfocused, uneducated, and underachieving-which makes for an occasionally hilarious, frequently anemic parody that misses its opportunity to permanently document a scathing critique of current events.

One of Cruise's most deeply cherished ambitions is to be a great actor, and this movie goes to great lengths to let him do that--sort of. You'll understand what I mean during the sequence in which there is more than one Philip Seymour Hoffman on the screen.

While brisk, informative, and entertaining, feels frustratingly sketchy.

As a fan and well-wisher of Coppola's, I wanted very much to like this movie, and I'll probably give it another shot once the DVD comes out. But, at first sight, Youth Without Youth's striving for exuberance reveals an almost desperate effort too much of the time.

Frances McDormand, as Erica’s younger sister, flourishes in her few minutes of screen time. She’s flinty, ferocious, and purely hysterical.

Starting Out never builds to the explosive climax it seems to be heading for, which I suppose is a good thing for its overall integrity, but maybe not so good for its motion-picture value.

Like Dupree himself, the film wears out its welcome a little, but is still entertaining.

Owen Wilson manages to break his customary comic relief persona and is adept at playing a little "Father Knows Best"; the yellow lab does a good job too.

Scott doesn't bring much to the table as an action director, and his keen storytelling abilities go invisible here.

The drama aspect is necessary to the story, but it just drags on too long.

The handful of comic moments will serve up a few good laughs.

Camp may not be great cinema, but it's passionate and original enough to be special.

One casting wild card is the country singer Tim McGraw, and he's very solid in the role of Katie's horse-rancher dad, the kind of guy whose hard-headedness can't mask the size of his heart.

Made with obvious passion and humor (and a side of fries), Super Size Me is a mostly entertaining look at fast food, the billion-dollar businesses behind it, and its warped effect on our culture.

Gothika deserves credit for embracing the ghost story genre so whole-heartedly, but as any ten-year-old girl can tell you, there's nothing original here to see.

While this Kid isn't up to "Spy Kids" standards, the good news is the film hews closer to the high-concept kids' movies of the 1980s than to all that Disney Channel goo that's been repackaged for the big screen lately.

It’s very colorful, for sure, but the dialogue is lead-footed at best.

The image of Gwyneth Paltrow looking anguish-stricken has become such a cinematic meme that it hardly bodes well for Proof that it opens with this sight.

Jersey Girl may have come from his soul, but it contradicts the charm of a Kevin Smith movie.

At the very least, Cyrus forces one of these man-children to face a younger version of himself, and find a grown-up compromise.

Imagine what someone like Danny DeVito might have done with the material, taking it in that darker "War of the Roses" direction instead of languishing in this sunny, not-nearly-sinister-enough "Legally Blonde" territory.

Directed with little flair, a one-sided perspective and a questionable sense of moral responsibility by Dan Klores (his negligent lack of an editorial voice in the couple's lunacy reeks of train-wreck exploitation), Crazy Love is a disturbingly captivating tabloid horror, but that's not Klores' doing.

Since the story really is about nothing more than who ends up with which bag of money, those eccentric details--that cow, the butchers' language--don't feel organic, but rather cosmetic. They're glamour to conceal the mundane.

Moves easily between manic humor and soft, touching moments that get to the heart of what it means to be a parent.