The idea is intriguing - an inflatable sex doll comes alive and experiences the world with wide-eyed innocence - but Hirokazu Kore-eda's "Air Doll" is only partly successful. The film's poignant depiction of human loneliness is undercut by saccharine notes and a drifting tone.

Light entertainment that doesn't quite work. The film has too many scenes that meander, and the picture's offhandedness begins to seem less like clumsy charm and more like pointless vamping.

It's engaging as a non-drama of people doing nothing, but suffering a lot.

The story, like the protagonist, floats along in a noodly sort of way, intelligent, benign and ineffectual.

Meandering and inert. Yet as an etching of an emotion and a vehicle for Costner, the movie makes a case for itself.

Though the movie drips and aches with good intentions, I do wonder how lesbians may feel about seeing lesbianism presented as a mere traumatized distortion of female heterosexuality.

Surely, there’s the potential here for a kind of Country and Western “Amadeus.” Instead we get I Saw the Light, which will do until something better comes along.

It's surprising to see John Malkovich and Andie MacDowell together in such a meandering mess as The Object of Beauty. It's also surprising that their being in it doesn't help. [19 Apr 1991, p.E1]

The best thing to say about “Munich: The Edge of War” is that it has an interesting take on Neville Chamberlain, the British prime minister who preceded Winston Churchill. In the opinion of many historians, it’s not the correct take, but at least the movie has a point of view.

Despite a too slow pace for my own tastes, Hauer helps move the film along by being captivating even in just a few scenes. He, Michael York as a businessman and Charlotte Rampling as the Virgin Mary provide what little dialogue exists in a screenplay that could have used a little more backstory.

It comes down to a pair of appealing performers in a series of bad-relationship skits.

Low-budget, oddly cast and strictly indie all the way.

Hawke has created a standard-issue, Sundance-friendly indie film that's full of the predictable angst suffered by Manhattan artistic types, but unfortunately the lead characters are both so callow that you finally don't care much about them.

The reversion to formula takes a pleasing comedy and drops it down a notch, but That Awkward Moment is still very easy to like.

127 Hours, about an unimaginably unbearable experience, is pretty much an unbearable experience of its own. And yet, it must be said, it's exceptionally well made.

Stars at Noon has some interesting ideas, and a general fatalistic malaise creates a perversely appealing Le Carré-esque mood. But it’s so vague — perhaps because Denis doesn’t understand Central America as much as she does West Africa — that its impact melts in the heat of its near equatorial setting.

With its fake-looking technology and empty characters, Volcano eventually becomes as obvious as its what-if premise.

With Kika Almodovar seems to be saying something about voyeurism, though what he is saying is never nailed down. [27 May 1994, p.C3]

We still have Kendrick’s performance. We still have the compelling situation. We still have the unusual subject matter. But it’s enmeshed with unreal nonsense.

It's called One, and the hemorrhaging begins with the so-called story, which doesn't quite add up to one.

All in all, though, A Five Star Life (which was a hit in Italy) remains a hard film to dislike, and many will savor the fabulous locations where Irene arrives as a "mystery guest."

The Eye of the Storm is performed with zest by a fine cast and offers some nicely biting moments but, in the end, falls short of its large ambitions.

This new iteration may be interesting from a cultural perspective, if not particularly worthwhile on its own — unless you’re a Jack Harlow fan.

Crime 101 is often smart, ultimately ridiculous — man, that ending! — and mostly absorbing. But as with Davis’ sleek rides, your mileage may vary.

The producers have stated that they're going after an American market that supports Spanish-language TV networks, radio stations and newspapers. This niche audience may well respond to not being required to read subtitles, for once, in a movie geared to them.

This latest, from director Bille August, is merely respectful and respectable. It never sinks, but it never really soars either, though here and there it hits a powerful moment.

There are some compelling performance moments, and it's sad to watch these talented and basically nice people drift apart. But overall the film seems like a collection of bits and pieces, and it's hard to see how it could have much resonance for non-fans.

This is one of those projects in which everyone on set seemed to have fun making a movie. That joy comes through, even if the finished film induces a good-natured shrug.

Lakin’s screenplay veers so wildly between sitcom antics, pitch black comedy and heartwarming family drama that it leaves you feeling whiplashed. The film never quite merges its divergent tones, leaving Being Frank a frustrating mix of promising elements and appealing performances shackled to an unwieldy central premise that dispenses with joy the way a black hole dispenses with light.

A pretty ugly movie in its own right.

Takes some admirable risks.

Kinda cute, laced with a few chuckles, but mostly just annoying, the new feature film version of The Little Rascals is not likely to go down in history as a paean to kids or a filmic delight for anyone much older than 7. [05 Aug 1994, p.C3]

The makers of Into the Blue know what the audience wants. And they deliver a little bit more.

Going into this movie, there was a question whether “Bad Boys” might just feel like entertainment from an earlier time, but instead it feels like a cozy return — at least as cozy as possible, given that the movie is extremely violent.

It’s an elaborate and artificial concoction, without any discernible ambition behind it.

The remake is a solidly crafted movie with a lot of good scares, but it also raises the question: Why even bother with an update?

By the standards of most IMAX films, this is a bizarre entry, a documentary about bugs that was produced by Terminix, the pest control company.

Compared with other movies, Seven Psychopaths is clever and inventive enough to be considered a weak success or a modest failure, the kind of effort that usually gets damned with the faint praise of "not bad."

Trespass never advances beyond being a grand manipulation.

A pleasant addition to the time-honored genre of terminally cute youth romance movies, roughly equivalent to staring at a saccharine greeting card for a while.

Rust isn’t so much a poor story or even badly told; there’s just too much of it, strung out along a discursive narrative trail that turns out to be unnecessarily repetitious.

Cleverness won't carry it. Nothing less than overarching vision is required; otherwise, the audience will laugh for 10 minutes and then start to check out. And that pretty much states the problem of Mirror Mirror.

It's an apocalyptic ghost story with some eerie images and a surprising turn toward the end, but it bogs down considerably between the good scenes.

Hard to hate, but if you actually want to love it, you've got to force yourself. [27 Nov 1991, p.E1]

Throughout the film, we always feel ahead — way ahead — of the narrator, even if the movie does contain a certain sense of dread for Trump detractors, as the inevitability of the election draws closer.

It's the supporting players who stand out.

To be fair, War of the Buttons is a film with a modest agenda. It does not attempt to provide a complete or even vaguely realistic depiction of the rural French resistance in the endgame to World War II. Instead, it provides a fable.

Campbell's admirers will probably enjoy the documentary, but I don't think it will do much for anyone else.

Campbell and Edwards work wonders with the rocky, wide-open Oregon landscape, but none of their periwinkle-blue skies and sparkling shots of whooping cranes in flight can compensate for a film that aims high, means well, and ultimately fails its audience. [20 May 1994]

Isn't all bad. It isn't good, either, but it's better than it deserves to be, and if one sits and watches, the laughs do come, a few.

Traveller is entertaining in a mild, relaxing way.

The result is that a story with a couple of good ideas founders for lack of a third or fourth good idea. Still, any picture that features Radcliffe having a nervous breakdown for two hours has something to recommend it.

Rarely rises above the level of a TV movie.

Neither hilarious nor a credible spoof.

There’s no way to call Havoc a good movie, but as bad movies go, this is a good one. Depending on your mood, its variety of craziness could be what you’re looking for.

This is a movie in which whole sequences consist of nothing but guys fighting stiff computer images. Such scenes would be boring even were they done well, but these scenes aren't done well.

The potential for a funny film is here -- one that captures people with their ''clothes'' off, and uses fashion as a metaphor for emotional defenses. Sadly, Altman seems to have taken out all the jokes, and given his actors nothing but sketches to work from. [23 Dec 1994, p.D1]

The watchable LX 2048 certainly gets an “A” for effort, including a creative take on Hamlet’s famous soliloquy. I’m not sure how good a movie it is, but it would be an excellent basis for a streaming series, in which its ambitious ideas would have time to develop.

Floats along on the strength of its writing and supporting cast.

It doesn’t really add up, either as a psychological portrait or moral commentary.

To watch Rifkin’s Festival and Allen’s previous film, A Rainy Day in New York (2019), is to wonder whether this is a filmmaker who has ceased to understand the world.

Manages to do the impossible: It makes Lopez bland.

Nostalgia for the groves of academe weighs heavily on Liberal Arts, which both exploits and undermines romanticized memories of campus life.

Smothers whatever merits it may have had in a rush of bells, whistles, bombast and smoke.

Some scenes are mild fun, but the mishaps that befall our hero aren't especially inventive, and although the South African setting provides a bit of interest, it's never really used incisively.

If The Next Three Days were just a little more mindless, it might have been more joyful.

The sum is a comedy that starts out slow and talky, picks up speed - and sexiness, and hysterics - somewhere in the middle, then drags to a stop when everyone starts confessing their feeeelings.

For 70 minutes, Antichrist is a rare exploration of pain, featuring two actors collaborating with each other in agonizing and intimate ways. It also contains some of the best work Gainsbourg has ever done on screen. And then - if I put it more gently I wouldn't really be saying it - director Lars von Trier loses his mind.

Stylized dialogue tends to play awkwardly onscreen -- we're conditioned to naturalistic conversation in films -- and Waters, who makes his feature directing debut with The House of Yes, fails to create an emotional tone or attitude to match the characters' goofy repartee.

Is it a home run? No. But at this point, comic fans are just happy to see Fox play error-free ball with their Marvel adaptations, and Fantastic Four mostly qualifies.

Comes across as a cautionary tale.

But most every moment Ford is in on screen is a welcome one. Buck seems more real when in Ford’s presence.

Not a spectacular movie, but the action scenes are well shot, there's no shortage of R-rated gore and the plot moves along quickly enough to mask the fact that the whole endeavor is completely ridiculous.

It's a fact that becomes riotously evident in the reel of outtakes that caps the picture and incites wonder about why no one thought to give us 90 minutes of those instead.

Though I wish Please Give were a little better, there aren't enough American movies like it.

Highly entertaining, in a schadenfreude sense, but incomplete.

The picture is in the same sappy, soapy, maudlin vein as last year's ''Beaches,'' but I didn't hate it as much as ''Beaches,'' which might mean that everybody who loved ''Beaches'' will think Stella isn't quite as good. [2 Feb 1990, p.E1]

If only Streep would have put down the microphone and let Springfield sing “Jessie’s Girl,” Ricki and the Flash might have had half a chance.

A few things make The Adam Project a little better than bearable.

The Love Witch has an air of geeky satire. The presentational acting style is so self-aware you almost expect the cast to occasionally underline a joke by turning toward the camera and winking at the audience (no one does, though).

In this her third feature as a director, Jolie once again shows a marked talent for the visual aspects of storytelling. Her shot selection is impeccable and her compositions are artful without being self-consciousness.

As much as Machete Kills is a reunion and continued revival, it also represents a sort of gentrification of the exploitation genre. It's probably time to move on and let a new generation of kids take a crack at making bad films.

In the end, Chi-Raq is a positive movie that wants to jolt us into doing something about the very real emergency in Chicago. Along the way, the execution of the narrative gets muddled, but there’s no denying that this risk-taking film has a pulse. A strong pulse.

In special effects, Lucas has moved a galaxy beyond. In energy, not yet.

Stays emotionally mired because of a static screenplay that fails to express its issues dramatically.

A bit of a letdown. The manic comedian who has gained fans worldwide for his outrageous slapstick and special effects-driven antics in "Kung Fu Hustle" and "Shaolin Soccer" takes a backseat this time - and that's part of the problem: This is lesser Chow because there is less Chow.

A very slightly plotted, over-the-top film with hammy acting suitable for an old "Benny Hill" episode. If that sounds like fun, go see it, mate.

As a work of entertainment, as a cohesive narrative and as an artistic whole, there's no way to call it anything but an on-balance average effort. Yet there's nothing remotely average about the movie's warm spirit, its imaginative and arresting cinematography or its handful of unique, brilliant scenes and shrewd, bizarre performances.

Movies go bad in all kinds of ways, but in 7 Days in Entebbe the filmmakers found a brand-new way for their movie to commit suicide.

Though overlong and formulaic, two things keep this street-racing movie of interest all the way to the finish line. The first is Aaron Paul ("Breaking Bad"), a sensitive actor in his first major movie showcase. The second: some extraordinary racing sequences.

The film is a visual feast that combines interviews with vintage footage and reenactments danced in retro clubs, on railroad trusses and in magnificent theaters.

Ultimately, Chechik can't pull off the fractured-fairy-tale aspect of Benny and Joon. His film never explains mental illness, but romanticizes it, making it seem like a state of enchantment. It's ultimately irresponsible, and not very funny. [16 Apr 1993, p.C1]

Ultimately, “The Long Walk” is a heartfelt metaphorical drama about people bonding under duress. Instead of focusing on the darker side of human nature one might expect from the average dystopian film, it finds power in small acts of connection.

The script highlights an annoying lack of self-preservation on behalf of the protagonists. But the movie tries to be more than just a creepy doll freakout, and delivers the requisite scares.

Sponge on the Run is very much a members-only affair. Then again, three movies and several hundred TV episodes into a 22-year-old franchise, it’s not unreasonable to think the audience for this adventure is pretty well baked into the cake.

It's made by a director who knows comedy, working from a script founded on a surefire slapstick premise.

That’s all it is, a little bit funny.

So this is fairly interesting history, not as interesting as we’d like it to be, but interesting all the same.