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.

War is like Statham's other actioners "The Transporter" and "Crash" -- fun, but not big or dumb enough to be glorious.

For a while, it works, until it suddenly decides to abandon the "what you don't see is scarier than what you do see" for a ridiculous and ultimately insulting explanatory ending.

The dumbness doesn't kill Death at a Funeral, but it certainly weakens it.

As forceful as its title suggests, and sometimes unbelievably ballsy.

Superbad is just a great time, plain and simple.

As The 11th Hour's message of Profound Importance warrants a four-star rating, the film itself does not.

Noisome, fragmented mess of a movie, the fourth film based on Jack Finney's novel "The Body Snatchers" and the worst of them all.

If you don't play at all, you may find yourself enjoying this film more than anyone, because you'll at least get all the laughs with none of the cringing self-recognition.

It's goofy as hell but devilishly smart about it, which is why it's such great fun.

The movie becomes less fizzy once DeCillo decides to make A Statement (a rather incoherent one at that).

As fate would have it, Rocket Science might prove to be the handiwork of a burgeoning cinematic genius.

Chan still sounds silly talkin' jive, the action sequences are peppy if not exactly memorable, and the gags have been sitting out long enough to make penicillin.

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

Where Dans Paris truly pops, besides its spot-on leads or the slick curation of its fashions and locales, are in its mood-mixing musical moments.

The Ten has one foot in "Monty Python's Meaning of Life" and another in their "Life of Brian," but ultimately we get the David Letterman School of Comedy: mediocre jokes continually repeated until they sometimes become uncomfortably funny.

Hathaway's proven charms work magic here.

Most thrillers of this ilk have no qualms about going past the 120-minute mark, but I think Greengrass and company understood that overdoing it would turn mass excitement into massive headache.

Ichaso seems far too interested in what led to Lavoe's downfall rather than what made him great.

The fantasy here – dubious as life choices go, but great for a 90-minute comedy – is that you can stay 16 forever.

For adults -- even adults with fond memories of the TV series -- this is one bizarre mess.

I can’t say I was too surprised by how risible, grotesque, and incoherent I Know Who Killed Me is. But I can’t say I was prepared for its pretentiousness. If the picture has any use at all, it’s as a case study in what happens when the talentless attempt to emulate the inspired.

The kitchen action here is pretty diverting -- everybody involved seems to have boned up on their Bourdain and Buford, and having done so, sanitized what they've gleaned with Hollywood polish.

If this is in fact merely a longer Simpsons episode, it's a damn good Simpsons episode.

This Is England may be best summed up as a "coming-of-age" story that puts aside the clichéd baggage often carried by the description and ultimately ends up being moving, genuinely funny, thought-provoking, and highly recommended.

It’s a playful study of Arctic life, starring a polar bear cub, its prey, and a tagalong fox -- with the inevitable dramatic moments when bear meets walrus.

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

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