The new Vanishing fails on its own terms -- it gradually adopts the conventions of a silly monster movie and loses the emotional impact of a psychological thriller in the process. But what makes this failed effort perplexing is the existence of the earlier film and its successful design. [05 Feb 1993, p.D4]

A pleasant myth.

While it is imminently watchable, it’s a movie that consists of mostly people sitting at tables with fantastic period clothing plotting and scheming, but sometimes barely moving at all.

The film takes a bold, intelligent approach to the explorer's story, providing scenes and images that are not to be forgotten. Then, midway into its journey, the movie sails right off the edge of the universe. [09 Oct 1992, p.C1]

This disappointing comedy, which seems to move at a snail's pace, is almost saved by the gorgeous scenery and settings, crisply photographed. Locations include the Grand Hotel du Cap Ferrat, Beaulieu-sur-Mer, the harbor at Juan-les-Pins, and other lovely spots on the Cote d'Azur. [14 Dec 1988, p.E1]

If you want lots of Will Smith and industrial-strength special effects, the movie delivers.

Stewart. His role is so juicy and he is so good that Lillard and Gugino just can’t keep up. Stewart fans should see the film just to see him cut loose in an arena outside the “Star Trek” and “X-Men” franchises. He is, in fact, unmatched.

To put it simply, people may be right and people may be wrong, but there are no right races or wrong races. A writer-director who chooses to have characters representing race and not themselves alone paints himself into a corner in which everyone in the movie absolutely must come out all right.

Whatever the film's faults, though, it's safe to say that you may never view childbirth in the same way.

One is haunting and wonderful, one is very good, and one spoils the fun.

Offers some hit-and-miss pleasures, but may finally strike you as pedestrian.

The result, although a great idea, doesn't translate into a great movie.

What we’re left with is a movie that has good moments for all the actors, but which, through a series of tonal imprecisions, ends up seeming sour and pointless.

There's a lot of interesting material here, but Rachman doesn't offer any real analysis of his own, and the film suffers from a lack of narrative focus.

A melodramatic yarn that transcends some of its technical and storytelling flaws through the cheery energy and sincerity of its cast.

At its best, the film uses fishing as a window into the internment experience. At its worst, it uses the internment story as the backdrop for a documentary on trout fishing.

Its virtues can't outweigh the disappointment of a movie that might have been a rousing old-fashioned epic, or better yet a provocative reworking of an old epic, and instead became a muddle.

If you ask too many questions about Jacob's Ladder, you're likely to burst the bubble. For all its emotional sizzle and spit, it leaves you hanging. Yet the ride to Lyne's middle-of-nowhere is almost worth it. [2 Nov 1990, p.E1]

This is no-holds-barred filmmaking. Some viewers will find it disgusting. Others will call the director's bluff.

Based on Elizabeth Brundage’s 2016 novel All Things Cease to Appear, Things Heard & Seen is a slow burn, and it spends a fair amount of time strewing elements of other ghostly tales throughout the premises. But then it takes a turn, those elements gel, and the characters come into sharper focus.

High on fun but low on depth, Project Almanac is told entirely from the perspective of a video camera, which instantly made me regret that I had eaten dinner before the screening.

A glossy, stiff melodrama.

Confusing, mixing messages of self-empowerment with those of conformity.

Revenge is like a movie about two idiots who jump off a cliff hoping gravity will take a holiday. When they hit the ground _ well, that's just too bad. [16 Feb 1990, p.E1]

One wishes Lee’s mother (Judith Light) and stepfather (Sam Elliott) were in the film more; their conversations with Lee about marriage and love rung true. The rest is just empty dialogue.

Nothing in her performance in the second two-thirds of the film hints at the shallows or depths that could allow Maggie to be a killer -- before or after. [19 March 1993, p.C1]

Working from a script by Jeff Nathanson, Jenkins, who got his filmmaking start in San Francisco and directed the best picture-winning “Moonlight” (2016), efficiently tells a simple story very well, although his style isn’t that much different from that of Jon Favreau, who directed the first computer-animated film.

Despite a super-dark noir plot and respectable cast, Deadfall is a thriller that never quite delivers on its promise.

It’s sincere and intelligent — but it’s weak as a social statement and even weaker as drama.

Tonal inconsistency is the iceberg that sinks The Pretty One. The film is a mashup of wacky comedy, romance and sorrowful elements that would tax a more seasoned filmmaker than first-time writer-director Jenée LaMarque.

I'll stick out my neck and say that Park Chan Wook's wildly gruesome Thirst is the most whacked-out version of an Emile Zola novel ever to reach the screen.

Amounts to an infomercial posing as an expose.

The name of this documentary is Surviving Progress, but that's only because "The Sky Is Falling and We're All Gonna Die" wouldn't fit on a marquee.

Through it all, Tatum tries like crazy to Act. His eyes pinch. His brow scrunches. Most of all, he clenches his jaw, little creases of muscle flexing below his ears as he labors to emote.

It's fast, snappy and entertaining in a superficial way. But it lacks gravity and authenticity and seems more like a product than an attempt to tell a story.

The movie's not bad enough to be world-ending, merely clumsy.

Strict plausibility isn’t necessary in these movies, and while No Escape doesn’t completely throw it out the window, it still inspires the occasional unintended giggle.

The film is beautiful but troubled, achieving in stretches the director's signature dreamy mood but dragged down by narrative confusions.

Linklater never finds a way to sustain a drama from these characters and their situation.

It's a classy but downbeat spin on the most familiar of TV-movie formulas.

Feels like an extended TV cartoon segment.

No matter how bad things get, you can always be thankful for this: You're not on trial for murder in Russia.

The movie is probably best appreciated by devotees of the cult director, who has made some good films and some interesting ones (and some that are both): "King of New York," "Bad Lieutenant," "The Addiction." "4:44" isn't quite in that company.

If anyone wants to watch naked men in the shower, naked men doing erotic dancing, naked men in bed and almost-naked men pumping iron, this is the film to see.

The film tries to split the difference between thoughtful science fiction and action-driven horror, and blows the chance to truly succeed at either. Morgan is an enjoyable enough experience in the moment, but it never quite coalesces.

Often falls flat.

There are just enough revelatory moments to recommend the movie.

Nossiter's premise is good, and he intrigues us with stylish conceits, but he makes a crucial casting error. Alec ought to be someone we care about.

Follows the Japanese tradition of humanizing movie monsters, this time in a rather disturbing way.

In the end it all seems a little too glib, too easy and not quite true.

Standard issue and sluggish as it sometimes is, “Elevation” maintains engagement.

Attenborough has done what nobody thought possible - recreate a classic without raping and pillaging the original, though Chorus Line purists will find plenty to moan about. [20 Dec 1985]

An average action film, made slightly better by Cruise, and more bizarre by Herzog, and more watchable by Pike, but still within the average range, a silk purse that still says oink.

The movie as a whole is a mixed bag, offering up stiff shots of skepticism and a few provocative thoughts on correlation and causality.

This is highly skilled filmmaking, but the movie is not for everybody — the relationship involves dominance and submission, sexual games played at a high pitch. This material falls short of pornographic, but still packs plenty of erotic punch.

Another romantic comedy about a career woman who has everything except a man, is Jennifer Aniston's attempt to break out of her TV role. But she doesn't have the magic on the big screen to make us forget where she came from.

Given his built-in appeal, Perry has the opportunity to broaden the subject matter of so-called black movies. He takes a stab at it in "Girls," but he could do so much better.

It's a slow-moving fable, with enough story and substance to make for one amazing Imax short. Instead the material is stretched beyond its limits into a long, repetitive and often stagnant 127-minute feature film.

Is Little lousy? No. It goes along pleasantly, unimportantly, predictably. Here and there, a mild chuckle might escape your lips. Ten minutes later, a half-hearted titter, or perhaps a knowing chortle. Just don’t expect to guffaw or cachinnate, and forget all about busting a gut. It’s not that kind of comedy.

Snake Eyes collapses in a crosscurrent of conflicting character motives, joyless plot twists and who-cares violence.

As a film it plays like a heavy-handed morality tale one might come across on a middling cable network.

Cheerfully raunchy and undeserving of its prohibitive NC-17 rating, Orgazmo is a harmless sex farce.

It’s true that “Dune 2” is as depressing as watching the news, but that doesn’t make it relevant, because it isn’t the news. It’s more like unnecessary self-torture, like watching a depressing newscast from another planet.

I found “Cats” pretty bland, but it has its moments of catnip, and as a holiday movie option that anyone could see, it might be just the ticket.

If Species sounds ridiculous, it is -- though as ridiculous science fiction films go, this one has its moments. As usual, these moments come early.

Kraven the Hunter will sate fans with Taylor-Johnson’s action bona fides and its fine cast. But those same fans may be less-than enthusiastic about the idea that, with no Spider-Man and no franchise to move forward, this one essentially has nowhere to go.

A pure Frankenstein flick -- ugly, profane, terror-inducing, clumsy, nasty, desperate, stupid, contemptible, horny and brought to life by schlocky, shoddy science and an electric wish to prove that its makers still matter.

It would be a mildly lovely thing to be able to say the movie isn't bad. But it is.

It's a meandering and rather aimless movie that would be considered trite if made by another filmmaker, and yet it has such a family resemblance to other, better Woody Allen movies that it's easy to stick with it and enjoy it.

This quirky film does the unexpected: It pours on the restraint, emphasizing the grit and making the romance as low key as possible. It’s an anti-romance romance.

Delivers all the pain, melodrama and redemption that fans of the genre demand.

Cusack should have been half the picture, but the screenplay keeps shoving him offstage for no good reason, and it's a mistake. One of many.

Made in America, for the most part, is surprisingly inept -- badly shot, badly lit and badly edited. It's the actors alone, Danson especially, who save it from total disaster. [28 May 1993, p.C1]

In essence, Sorrentino thought his way up to the middle of The Hand of God and assumed the rest would take care of itself. He started filming too soon. His screenplay needed work.

The movie is equal parts interesting, awful and lovely.

Despite a clever script and top-notch cast, whose commitment to doing service in the indie branch of the industry is commendable, Unknown falls apart just when it should be coming together.

The screenplay packs no particular surprises - some of the plot mechanics positively creak - but the leads bring some wattage and warmth to very modest indie fare.

Robert Downey Jr. gets to remind everybody that before this blockbuster turn he was actually a serious actor and may still be again. Stark’s frustration at the rigidity and short-sightedness of his confreres and his anguish at where it all leads are vivid and felt.

Most of the enjoyment of “American Dreamer” comes in watching Dinklage react to indignities and awkward moments.

Aims to make epic drama of Algeria's battle for independence, but there are moments when you would swear you're watching a "Godfather" knockoff.

An atmospheric and, to a degree, challenging mashup of psychological, social and folk horror, Nanny casts a spell it doesn’t put us entirely under.

Would have been a stronger movie if it didn't require a strong cup of coffee going in.

The Bookshop isn’t an especially good film, but there’s no shortage of good in it.

The film is dreadfully slow without much in the way of rewards.

Tetris holds an audience’s attention until the finish, without ever quite commanding it. To some degree, Noah Pink’s screenplay deserves credit for taking an arcane business story and rendering it entertaining. But the story gets so extreme and unlikely in the movie’s last half hour that it becomes easy to separate fact from fiction.

The feature film Everest provides soaring visuals, but it’s a distant second in terms of storytelling depth and narrative impact.

Something to see and occasionally even to laugh at.

While often cliche ridden and preposterous, it's too busy and loud to put anyone to sleep.

The Hill is meant to be inspiring, of course, and to some, it might be, but the vibe is more reassuring in the way that it does not deviate from the standard-issue formula of such movies. It is a cinematic case of confirmation bias, designed to fulfill preexisting values and beliefs.

Oh, Canada is about not so much Fife’s artistic growth as his journey to hermetically sealed narcissism.

As depicted here, the political story becomes convoluted and dramatically inert.

Kline is good in a role that suits him perfectly, and his scenes with Steenburgen are among the film’s most affecting. Jacobs is pretty good, too, really pouring on the Southern California “charm.”

As in The Florida Project, Baker lingers too long on the atmospherics, and that’s fatal here, because Red Rocket is a comedy and needs a brisk rhythm.

Nelson's work is relentless, grueling and courageous. He makes a large blunder in having American actors (David Arquette, Steve Buscemi) play Hungarian Jews with American accents, while Harvey Keitel plays a Nazi officer with a German accent.

Often the movie seems like a lot of empty-headed blather, with one side hating the First Amendment and the other side unable to find a better use for it but to say the f-word.

Nate Parker’s film isn’t always successful at balancing empathy with suspense or its prison reform message with character development. But there are engaging moments from start to finish, with a plot that, while not as surprising as writer-director Parker may have thought, wracks nerves multiple times.

Braveheart comes up short by beating the drums of human treachery and violence so loudly they become assaults.

The problems lie not with the actors but with a glib approach that exposes the flaws of the original story.