The Hanks overload feels like The Polar Express is "Being John Malkovich" transmuted into a computer-generated 21st-century children's Christmas film.

Law owns every scene he’s in--which is literally all of them--plus a decent supporting cast and dapper dialogue truly make for a breezy good time.

Preaches post-9/11 family values to conservatives while appeasing liberals with ideas of tolerance and social activism.

Delivers platinum performances, especially Sharon Warren as Ray's tough-lovin' mother, Kerry Washington as his lily-tempered wife, and Regina King as his spitfire mistress.

Spoiled by its own insatiable desire for envelope-pushing flair; it’s wider-scoped when it should be intimate, splashy instead of subtle, icky but not scary.

There are moments so beautifully composed and so resonant in Jonathan Glazer's (Sexy Beast) sophomore effort, I can at least propose it's a "near-great."

One of those outrageous stalker thrillers in which so much trouble could have been avoided if the characters had only thought to call the police.

Every performance here is wonderful, and the movie abounds in moments so true as to be cringe-worthy.

American audiences have seen Ju-On. And The Grudge just goes to show why remaking it is such a frivolous idea: What's the use in wasting so much energy if the filmmakers aren't going to fix what was wrong with the movie in the first place?

Director Brad Anderson (Session 9) overtly cribs from everyone from Dostoevsky to Kafka.

In equal parts powerful and peculiar, the film is not my favorite of Green’s, but it helps solidify his position as one of the most visionary young directors around.

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.

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

Director Dylan Kidd sneaks some pretty profound observations about love and life by us.

Imelda Staunton is absolutely astonishing.

Refusing to dumb down for a mass market, Primer is "Mullholland Dr." for math geeks, "Memento" for mad geniuses, or simply one of the most inventive films ever made for pennies on the Hollywood dollar.

The result is more bawdy diversion than historical fable.

If you were hoping to find another "Nemo," you're likely to be let down by this insincere and borderline unpleasant alternative.

The result is by far the most original comedy of the year. Russell might alienate some audience members here--but it’s possible they literally won't know what they're missing.

DiG! never delves deep enough to act as a true cautionary tale. It's an amusingly drunken PBS-worthy human-interest doc, unless you're too old or not cool enough to have played in the embarrassing hipster zoo, in which case DiG! may be the closest you'll ever get to the uncaged animals.

This is a real grabber.

Whatever you want to label this quick-paced crowd-pleaser, it is definitely one of the year's must-sees.

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.

Shame is a welcome reminder that sex is sometimes too ridiculous to take so seriously.

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.

Conran's Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow is a pastiche of everything from "King Kong" to "The Wizard of Oz," a movie that escalates to a breathless cliff-hanger every 20 minutes or so and reinvents itself with every reel.

The story is a vapid "Casablanca"-lite.

Subtly gaining momentum as it dexterously glides through pages of good-time, snappy dialogue, Criminal offers no time to catch your breath, let alone enough to think through its reality-stretching story flaws and subtext-lacking motives.