Though this new Hills is both scarier and smarter than 95 percent of the other horror product out there, it's also indicative of everything that's wrong with horror movies today.

Even as Dark Water's horror-movie component flounders, a different, arguably better kind of thriller emerges.

For the most part, Murphy is pitching somewhere between "American Beauty" and "The Royal Tenenbaums"; indeed, the characters Bening and Gwyneth Paltrow play in Scissors are, in a sense, inversions of their roles in Beauty and Tenenbaums, respectively.

Overburdened with themes and symbolism, Baltasar Kormákur’s latest effort seems more apt for a term paper than a movie review.

Nothing happens as you might expect it to, but the Pinocchio ending is definitely out.

Gondry might have been better off keeping his movie on theoretical/slapstick grounds, because, quite frankly, his attempts at sincerity just don't make it.

That it's so flat as an action movie probably has a lot to do with why people might prefer to jawbone over its putatively controversial aspects--there's really not much of a “wow” factor to revel in.

Parents might like the film, but will be too busy explaining the complicated plot to their children to really enjoy it.

Ghosts is one of Forman's most ambitious and daring films; would that all of its ambitions were fulfilled.

There’s an over-abundance of dialog that can be downright boring, especially when it’s sandwiched between fast-paced car chases and all-out gun fights.

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

When he runs out of material to tickle with, Black dips into his musically tenacious "deedle-diddle-dee" for some sure-fire ridiculousness.

An uneven love story but a picture-perfect love letter to Italy.

It is a cute, silly romantic comedy, with little suspense and nothing particularly new to add to genre.

It's an overall heady conceit about image and invention, clever and fun with compelling lead performances -- especially Reynolds, who finally gets to show some chops in a career littered with Van Wilder–grade junk.

Ultimately fails as a film in its broad strokes and inadequate scene development.

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

As coincidence would have it, Steve Carell's "The 40-Year-Old Virgin" spun comedy gold from a similar idea just last week. Virgin shares not only The Baxter's basic premise, but also two of its key cast members (Paul Rudd and the beautiful Ms. Banks), allowing audiences to see just how much better The Baxter might have been if Showalter had given us some reason to identify with his socially awkward protagonist.

The actors and acting are so attractive--as is, per usual in a Merchant Ivory production, the scenery--that the movie’s less deft handling of the scenario’s various themes, not to mention some stumbling in the final quarter, when the story’s tone grows a little darker, doesn’t stand out as much as it might have.

Before plunking down your cash for a ride on the Mamma Mia! express when it pulls into town, just ask yourself one question: Do I really dig ABBA?

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.

Favorably, Atkinson’s family-friendly, rubber-limbed professionalism can revitalize even the most vapid of material, which this certainly is. Anyone who has seen an episode of Black Adder can tell you that he’s leaps and bounds funnier than this sitcom-grade bauble.

This is a fun midnight movie. Horror fans, get your friends together and go see some gore and some naked chicks in three dimensions.

It's a captivating story presented with a fresh and artistic spirit, putting a human face on the man behind the theories.

For all its intelligence, Free Zone has disappointingly little to say.

As it happens, each one of these tales is also a love story, and The Fountain is Aronofsky’s profession of faith concerning love’s place in the idea of eternity. It’s a movie that’s as deeply felt as it is imagined.

All this is frustrating, as the picture contains a few grace notes that remind one what an acute filmmaker Wong can be.

Predators biggest failing is that it manages to make its sci-fi violence absurdly boring.