As a shallow tale of conscienceless bloodshed and revenge, Last Man Standing is reasonably effective. But as an updated version of the far better-realized Yojimbo, it's an unqualified failure. Last Man Standing is a surface picture -- it looks good, sounds good, and moves quickly -- but there's no depth whatsoever.

If you're tired of routine, "feel good", Hollywood fare and are looking for something a little Tarantino-ish and a lot unusual, Feeling Minnesota will leave you feeling pleasantly surprised.

As a family film, Fly Away Home has something for members of every temperament and age group: adventure, pathos, technical detail about the design of the aircraft, cute animals, and human drama.

To the extent that The Trigger Effect is intended as a tense, somewhat nerve-wracking thriller, it's adequate, and certainly better than the formula-driven likes of The Hand that Rocks the Cradle.

By aiming his film at children, director David Mickey Evans strips the movie of all potentially interesting elements, leaving behind material likely to appeal to only the least discriminating viewers.

Things might have been okay if this film had gone someplace, anyplace, but it stalls early, then coasts through an hour of minimally-amusing material before screeching to an amazingly improbable stop.

Using black humor, blood, and a pair of tremendous performances, Freeway hones in on its targets and calculatedly skewers them one-by-one…This movie is both grimly funny and thought-provoking.

I'm sure there's an interesting story of sibling rivalry somewhere in She's the One, but Burns has cluttered it up with so much artificiality that it never gels. Who really cares whether Francis and Mickey make peace with each other, or who ends up with what girl? If these things mattered to us, She's the One would have been a success, but since they don't, it isn't. Since New York only needs one Woody Allen, maybe for his next film, Burns will try stretching his thematic and geographical boundaries. Otherwise, his promising film making career may already be in trouble.

Insultingly, Frankenheimer concludes the movie with a short sermon about the fine line that separates man from beast. If the director actually wanted to get this point across, he should have worked it into the film rather than tacking it on as an afterthought. It is, after all, an integral aspect of the source material. That it has been so thoroughly excised from the main plot isn't The Island of Dr. Moreau's only problem, but it's symptomatic of the flawed mindset that went into planning this occasionally incoherent and ultimately disappointing motion picture.

Girls Town does an excellent job of uncovering the angst, pressure, and doubt associated with the late teenage years. Its a refreshing film, not only because it shines the spotlight exclusively on girls (all the male characters are incidental) but because it does so without a whiff of exploitation.

This movie ranks as better-than-par entertainment.

Aside from Snipes' well-tuned performance and a few clever scenes detailing superstar marketing, this picture is a veritable wasteland. Even watching the horror show that the real Giants have become during the 1996 season is more fun than this. The advertising slogan may be "fear strikes soon", but, when it comes to The Fan, fear, like the movie, strikes out.

Though Kansas City has its share of arresting moments, the production as a whole is too superficial to be considered amongst the director's best work.

I'm almost embarrassed to admit that I liked parts of Bordello of Blood -- it is, after all, a pretty sick motion picture. Alas, the sense of bloody good fun gets stretched too thin. There's not enough material here to sustain the running length, and the film goes through dead patches (most of which occur when Miller isn't on screen). All of the stuff with Chris Sarandon is a waste of time that should have been relegated to the cutting room floor -- except that would have trimmed Bordello of Blood to an unacceptably short sixty minutes or so.

According to Schnabel, the movie is intended to celebrate the man's life, not to mourn his death, so Basquiat's last days are not shown. It's one of many miscalculations made by the director, because, when the end credits roll, we're left without a sense of closure.

This feel-good motion picture is intelligently written and expertly directed.

Most of the time, it's just repetitive.

Emma lacks the depth of passion present in the other Austen films, but, in large part because it's trying for something lighter and breezier, it's still fun.

Hardly a moment of Matilda can be described as either juvenile or condescending, and, compared with many of this summer's so-called mature features, that makes for a delightfully refreshing change-of-pace.

Aside from the lip service paid to the pros and cons of releasing free hydrogen onto the world market, Chain Reaction doesn't contain anything that we haven't already seen this summer. The explosive destruction that wipes out a portion of Chicago looks like it could have been excised from Independence Day. The action sequences recall Mission Impossible, Eraser, and The Rock, albeit with less energy. The concept of government agents being bad guys has been used so often that it has long since turned into a tired cliche. Chain Reaction isn't dull -- the film is paced to keep audiences attentive -- but the lack of originality dampens its enjoyability. As a result, box office reaction will almost certainly be more like a spark than an explosion.

With its carefully-modulated combination of light comedy and drama, the film casts a gentle spell.

Then again, it's worth noting that this Hollywood production is actually saying something, rather than just churning out eye-popping special effects while relying on a regurgitated plot.

There's nothing new or unique about the story, but it is presented in a manner that reinforces its immediacy and impact.

Following director Peter Jackson's powerful, true-life matricide tale, Heavenly Creatures, The Frighteners falls short of expectations by being just one of many in the long line of 1996 summer movies.

Holofcener has an ear for dialogue, and, as is often the case with the best character- centered films, a chief pleasure is simply enjoying what the participants have to say to one another.

The jokes, which are frequent and frequently successful, make this motion picture worth sitting through, even though, at nearly two hours, it runs on for far too long. For those who are just looking for a movie that scores high on the feel-good comedy scale, Multiplicity is a can't- miss choice. In the end, however, I couldn't help wishing that Ramis had tried for something a little more ambitious, rather than settling for a multiplicity of laughs without much genuine substance.

With its hackneyed plot, feeble attempts at characterization, and predictable finale, the second half of Independence Day becomes an extremely dull and lifeless affair.

Put simply, this movie is dumb.