My advice is to wait and see this version of The Beverly Hillbillies the same way that you've seen all that's gone before -- on the small screen. And let's hope that when the closing song chimes in with the familiar "Y'all come back now, hear?", it's not a reference to a sequel.

With some of the overlong running time snipped, Judgment Night might have been palatable. As it stands, however, the best judgment I can pass on this movie is an exceedingly harsh one.

No film can ever hope to convey the complex mosaic of cultural upheaval caused by everything that happened between 1924 and 1977, but Farewell My Concubine does an excellent job presenting samples of the flavor while telling a story that is both epic and intimate.

Yes, this film is worse than "Cliffhanger," Stallone's last venture into chaos.

Mr. Nanny isn't entertainment; it's an exercise in masochism.

See Mr. Jones at your own risk. Those who enjoy excruciatingly manipulative melodrama will probably come out of this movie spouting words of praise. Those who don't find fulfillment in that sort of "experience" would do better looking someplace where the first name of the title character is revealed.

It's a genuine pleasure to find a movie with such a deep and intelligent portrayal of simple human lives, with all their minor triumphs and tragedies.

The movie, however, seems to make the wrong decision at almost every opportunity, trying for the kind of melodramatic tragedy that only works in opera.

While Malice won't win any awards, it's a cut above the average. The result is a curious mixture that provides one-hundred minutes of entertainment.

Although For Love or Money is a marginal film by any standards, it isn't unwatchable, and it does fit nicely into the "date movie" niche. I can't honestly recommend the movie, but it isn't completely without redeeming qualities.

What Linklater does exceptionally well is open the door on an era seventeen years in the past. This is 1976, from the music and cars...to the people and their attitudes. You'd have to climb into a time machine to get a better view...However, this is light entertainment -- nothing groundbreaking or even especially noteworthy.

At best, this film is strictly cable fare.

The Program has its high points, but there are too few of them, and I suspect that many of the film's "insider's touches" are a combination of fact and fiction. Principally, this a formula football movie. Those hoping to see a hard-hitting drama about life off the field should instead prepare to be inundated by a load of feeble, unimaginative material that's almost impossible to take seriously.

De Niro successfully varies the tone, keeping it light and playful at times, dark and somber at others. A Bronx Tale is his triumph, and a testimony that all those years of watching the best in the business have borne fruit. If what is yet to come has any of the promise shown by this debut, we may be witnessing the birth of yet another directing talent.

A sumptuous motion picture, a feast for the senses.

There are a lot of other bad things I could talk about -- the overblown score, the silly portrayal of the police, the bad dialogue, the poor lighting in almost every scene -- but I think it's pretty clear how few virtues Striking Distance has. In fact, one of the movie's few positive aspects is that it's too loud to fall asleep during, which is surely what most people would do if their attention was based on story and character.

For anyone who saw this movie while yet unaware of its horrifying potential for stealing money and time, you have my condolences. For those who stubbornly proceed while knowing the awful truth, you deserve what you get. Don't expect any sympathy from me if you're arrested while trying to burn the film or kill the projectionist.

Despite Tony Scott's occasional blundering, True Romance is still a visceral roller coaster.

Undercover Blues is silly enough to deserve some credit, and for those who see it, there will at least be a few laughs. This empty-headed comedy revels in its own admitted idiocy. It's debatable whether anyone would want to pay money for this picture, but when it gets to cable, it will be worth a look for those who are in the right mood. After all, there's always a place for mindless entertainment, even if that place is on television.

Fascinating and satisfying the way the diverse threads are knitted together into a single tapestry.

Once it gets beyond a hard-to-swallow setup and into the meat of its story, Boxing Helena is surprisingly involving...The movie discloses its terms early, and expects the audience to buy into them, making no apologies for what it is or intends to be.

As rich in emotional impact as in style, this motion picture sets a high standard that we as viewers can only hope the other two chapters of the trilogy will match.

Fortress isn't terrible science fiction, but it's pretty bad. Hampered by a poorly- constructed storyline, the movie never gets on track. Instead of entering the rarefied atmosphere inhabited by such films as Aliens and the original Terminator, it falls in line with the likes of Freejack and Alien 3. Not the best company to be in, but it could be worse. Watch 1992's Split Second and you'll understand how bad things can get in this genre. After that experience, Fortress will look like high art.

For a movie intended to explore the conflicts and difficulties inherent in any kind of love (be it humans for each other or for their music), The Thing Called Love is largely unsuccessful. More than anything else, it ultimately appears to be little more than a predictable melodrama. Country fans will probably find in this motion picture an appropriate expression of their music. Everyone else is likely to view The Thing Called Love with about as much enthusiasm as they would reserve for the latest Randy Travis release.

Those who love to cry at movies will doubtless get their money's worth from The Man Without a Face. Others, I imagine, will discover in this movie what I did: a curious mixture of scenes that work and situations that seem hopelessly contrived or overly-sentimental. I didn't hate the film, and after the jarring first half-hour, it kept my attention, but The Man Without a Face never strays far from familiar territory.

The narrative is presented in a straightforward manner; Soderbergh doesn't employ any unusual chronologies. His style is frank, not quirky, and lends itself to a number of powerful images.

Without the elegant technique of John Woo, Hard Target could have been a real dud. It is not a good alternative to more intelligent thrillers such as In the Line of Fire and as The Fugitive, but that's not the market it's aimed at. However, those who enter a darkened theater showing this film with a reasonable idea of what they're getting themselves into, are likely to emerge satisfied.

Woody Allen is rarely a big commercial draw, and whether his off-screen antics will boost his box-office take remains to be seen, but Manhattan Murder Mystery may be his most accessible film since Hannah and Her Sisters. This movie is still pure Allen, but the humor is broad-based, and the "quirkiness" often associated with the director is kept to a minimum. Frankly, it's been years since I've enjoyed the director's work this much.