Director Ron Howard has turned Peter Morgan's stage success into a grabber of a movie laced with tension, stinging wit and potent human drama.

It's a total triumph, brimming with humor, heart, sexual heat, political provocation and a crying need to stir things up, just like Harvey did. If there's a better movie around this year, with more bristling purpose, I sure as hell haven't seen it.

Bummer. The vampires have no fangs. The humans are humdrum. The special effects and makeup define cheeseball. And the movie crowds in so many characters from Stephenie Meyer’s book that Catherine Hardwicke (Thirteen) is less a director than a traffic cop. But there’s a reason that Twilight has already become the movie equivalent of a bestseller: The love story has teeth.

If looks were everything, director Baz Luhrmann's epic salute to his native land would be the movie of the year. But, crikey, a padded script bloated with subplots and shameless sentimentality can wear you down.

It delivers the popcorn goods, but it ignores the poison eating at Bond's insides. Killer mistake.

Dark secrets are unlocked, words draw more blood than punches, and Desplechin turns one family into a universe that resembles life as a startling work of art.

From the Emeralds doing "Acapella" to Davi himself taking the lead on "So Much in Love," The Dukes is damn near impossible to resist.

Brimming with humor and heartbreak, Slumdog Millionaire meets at the border of art and commerce and lets one flow into the other as if that were the natural order of things.

Sometimes a shamelessly stoopid, proudly profane R-rated comedy is all you want out of life. Role Models more than fills the bill. It's killer funny.

The power of this Holocaust tale sneaks up and floors you.

Misery is enduring this Rocky Horror Paris Show.

Soul Men is a chance to salute these masters of mirth and music. Take it.

Naughty and nice is a killer-hard combo to pull off. Stick with Rogen and Banks. They rock it.

There are funny scenes, nicely directed by Barry Levinson. Other stuff, involving De Niro's ex-wife (Robin Wright Penn) and their daughter (Kristen Stewart), are not much of anything. It's a tossup. Your call.

Stick your neck out for this Swedish horror show. It's a winner, full of mirth and malice, plus a young romance you'll never see on the Disney Channel.

Philip Seymour Hoffman creates a mesmerizing portrait of the artist as a young, old and middle-aged man.

Jolie is inspired casting. She plays the role like a gathering storm, moving from terror to a fierce resolve. And Eastwood, at the peak of his artful powers, tightens the screws of suspense without ever forgetting where the heart of his film lies.

Its value is unquestionable as drama and moral provocation.

If you're gay and/or eight years old, HSM3 is the movie event of the year.

Whatever you think of Dubya, he has balls. The movie doesn't.

An irredeemably dull tale.

If you stay and watch the endless end credits, there's a short scene that hints a sequel is coming. That's what I call real pain.

The result is commendably non-West-centric, but no less sentimentally conceived.

You long for things to go bump in the night, but the movie muffles every risk in a blanket of bland.

No list of the year's best performances should be made without her (Sally Hawkins).

RocknRolla is a kickass crime drama that just doesn't know to quit while it's ahead.

The acting is of the highest caliber. Winger, magnificent and too long between films, is a volcano of repressed anger.

Maher can be a smartass, but his attempts to apply reason to religion are more a challenge than a threat.