A Man Called Otto is a formula movie, and no matter the nuances, this formula is not that satisfying.

Occasionally funny and touching, but often embarrassing and cringe-inducing.

An uneasy mixture of tragedy, satire, monster yarn and David Cronenberg creepiness, No Such Thing can't decide what it wants to be or how it needs to get there.

First-time film director Sullivan draws good performances from Goldwyn, Hutton and Parker, as well as Debra Monk, Elizabeth Franz and Eric Bogosian in minor roles.

Well-made and -acted, especially by Hawkes and Fisher, if it's not exactly gripping or noir-ish.

It succeeds, occasionally.

The result is a beautiful void, a structureless emptiness buoyed by some good scenes and performances.

Don’t expect surprises or something to ideologically critique. This is kooky carnage. You came for Dave Bautista stomping a motorcycle into submission, and damn it, that’s what you’re gonna get.

Short on complexity and depth, The Divine Order gives us a parade of heroines and villains. Instead of raising questions, it seems to want to induce in viewers a sense of smugness.

Murphy, who started directing movies in his native Australia, does a good job of locomoting Under Siege 2 at a lively, muscular clip.

Wild Orchid is a funny movie, an unintentional scream that sets itself up as a journey into the land of eroticism. [28 Apr 1990, p.C3]

For all the movie’s modest but palpable virtues, The Exorcist: Believer has one problem it cannot solve: No one has come up with a new way to do an exorcism.

The film is well acted, with especially strong work by Alonso and Zegers. And director Larraín has a powerful knack for depicting human monsters. But he stacks the deck so heavily that at times the film can seem like simple-minded anti-clericalism, and at least some viewers are bound to resist.

The picture is also the story of one character in particular, Bobby, and when it comes to Bobby, A Home at the End of the World is sappy and bogus.

Wilson is basically playing an even more feckless version of his "Office" character, Dwight, another intense and self-deluded doofus. It's a character that works better in smaller doses.

A hit- and-miss affair, consistently amusing but not as outrageous or funny as Cho may have intended or as imaginative as one might have hoped.

Despite the title, Ismailos' documentary is not a study of what constitutes great direction. Rather it's a nicely arranged film in which a variety of filmmakers Ismailos likes discuss their inspirations and influences.

The film is so harmless, and the young actors try so hard, that it's difficult not to have some fun.

Road to Nowhere, a neo-noir in which art imitates true crime (or is it vice versa?), is bound to be a thrill ride for some - and a head-scratcher for others.

The acting is fine. The ensemble is strong. The story moves along. Yet a coating of sleaze clings to the film, like bread dipped in batter.

A strange but oddly memorable film.

A hit-and-miss affair, or, to be more precise, a miss (story one), hit (story two) and break even (story three) affair.

Bulletproof is a raunchy exercise in macho posturing -- but thanks to a layer of satire, the new action comedy at Bay Area theaters provides a few zingers of lowbrow entertainment.

The movie is just good enough to make us want more and to understand what's missing.

Long segments of The Killer are devoted to people getting blown away, the bloodbaths played out always with guns. But the highly choreographed action, featuring point-blank shots of writhing victims, takes on a numbing aspect after a while. Reduced to cartoon overkill, it becomes as tedious in its way as carpenters working with nail guns.

Best of all is the work of Gillian Jones, who shows up in one scene as "Grandma."

Structurally, this becomes a little monotonous because there's just no denying that some kids are more interesting than others.

Still, no matter how flat “The Lost Daughter” can sometimes seem, there’s always something to hold our attention. The movie is never great, but it’s never exactly dull. There’s always a reason to stick around for the next scene.

It becomes somewhat pleasantly watchable because the muddled script and dangling story lines are delivered and explored by truly charismatic actors who can, at least for a while, breathe life into something where none should exist...Even if they’re moping in a corner.

Shore should have just stuck to his strengths, which is producing music. As a documentary, though, Take Me to the River falls woefully short on offering a serious contribution to the history of African American-inspired music.

When it's good, it's good, and when it fails, it's still clear what Levine was trying to do.

Aspen Extreme is an extremely slow-moving story about romance, buddies and skiing in the famous Colorado town. With a pleasant cast of mostly unknowns, except for Finola Hughes (''General Hospital's'' Anna Devane), it almost saves itself with spectacular downhill action scenes. A big almost. [23 Jan 1993, p.C3]

The Two Jakes is an interesting movie and audiences are predisposed to warm up to Nicholson the actor, but they may not be so charitable to Nicholson the director. [10 Aug 1990]

The opening is spectacular, but the rest is fairly routine.

If it wasn't for the stellar 3-D effects, there wouldn't be much to stop this hastily produced film from heading straight to DVD. But the scene at the end where all the confetti comes flying out and the pyrotechnics go off? Even I was willing to let out a little scream for that.

A disappointment, but it's not a disaster, and that's at least something.

Rubber has its share of jollies, at least when it isn't boring us to death with the fourth-wall-busting monkey business. Although I appreciate Dupieux's efforts at satire, the audience-interaction subplot goes nowhere fast.

Appealing, and ultimately moving.

I liked this movie somewhat, even if I'm not sure exactly what it means. Possibly it has something to do with arriving home, in the broadest sense. But in a Maddin film, uncertainty comes with the territory.

An unblushing sex farce often so raw it might make even fairly open-minded people feel a bit uncomfortable.

The buddy comedy “Babes” offers keen insights into pregnancy, parenting and longtime friendships, although many get lost in the movie’s bodily function-joke jamboree.

If one ignores reason, High Heels hums along well enough as a crime caper.

Were “Vita” better developed and edited, one might find joy in its rejection of the patriarchy. But the female-friendly dialogue relies too heavily on exposition. Nobody asks if anyone wants a cup of tea.

It’s hard to make a two-plus-hour chase movie like this compelling, but Wright gives it a go by peppering the cast with brief appearances by characters far more interesting who help Ben along his way.

By the end, the 105-minute movie feels another third as long. You’ll probably respect the effort. But you’ll be more than happy to leave The House With a Clock in Its Walls.

Despite some feints in a soulful direction, the picture has none of the interior quality of a multifaceted war film like Terrence Malick's "The Thin Red Line." Woo is all about elegant surfaces, not inner conflicts.

By the Grace of God begins to spin its wheels, with unnecessary scenes that give color to the events, when we’re more interested in the grand movements.

It's a strain to poke fun at Dolphin Tale 2. Even more than the very solid first film, this is cynicism-free cinema; a place where snark goes to die. But while the wholesomeness, PG-rating positivity and conservation goals remain a strong selling point, the story simply isn't as good as the first one.

Business intrudes on art.

The characters are engaging, and writer-director Stella Meghie is able to keep us interested in them for about an hour — and then the drama leaks out of the movie completely.

With Reichardt, you really do feel like you’re actually there. The only problem is that, a lot of the time, you’re really not happy to be there.

More thoughtful and pleasing to the eye than any blockbuster in recent memory, but its epic length comes without an epic reward. It's a slow ride to the same old place, nonstop action, accelerating in scale, culminating in the smirking promise of a sequel.

This is a monster movie -- 92 minutes, lots of action, lots of green legs stomping, get in, get out.

Chasing Trane celebrates its subject with great passion, but it often feels like walking in late into a good party.

A compelling mess.

Stupid yet cogent, High School High is a rapid-fire gag machine that's dopey enough to get belly laughs and smart enough to earn a C-plus as engaging entertainment.

Uneven, occasionally silly, true, but it's also an improvement over 2006's "X-Men: The Last Stand."

Plays like the cinematic equivalent of a paperback bodice- ripper with embossed type.

The Beach Boys is a breezy CliffsNotes version of the band’s ups and downs and cultural relevance and should interest established fans — even if they know it all already — and younger music enthusiasts who are looking for a window in.

There’s nothing particularly innovative about the filmmaking, but Becoming Nobody does its job: helping spread Ram Dass’ message in a polarized world in which we tend to emphasize our differences, not our similarities.

As a movie, it's far from compelling. As a thrill ride, though, it's a rampaging special effects and animatronics extravaganza that will make small children cringe behind their seats.

A skillfully observed but never quite satisfying lesbian romantic drama.

Her direction is weak, her dialogue is cliched, and her acting lacks energy and focus.

Poetry, lesbian sex and murder might be a killer combination if a deadly pace weren't included in the mix.

Ari Gold’s The Song of Sway Lake is saturated with a kind of melancholy nostalgia, and viewers who can accept that will find other virtues as well in this flawed film. It’s a story of familial unhappiness passing down through generations, impressive before it begins to lose focus.

Despite its posh trimmings, and Fiorentino's feline presence, Jade never rises above its limitations and never cloaks the fact that Eszterhas' dialogue and script are basically pulp -- minus the trashy fun that we've come to expect from the genre.

Yet for all its faults and limitations, Swing Kids is not necessarily easy to forget. [05 Mar 1993]

Follows a predictable format.

Less a new Japanese movie than a series of scenes from old American ones, most notably "The Terminator" and "ET."

Mindhunters is as effective as a movie can be and yet still be 100 percent forgettable.

As drama it's thin stuff. Aiming for simplicity, it ends up simplistic.

It lacks a moral center, and at times seems oblivious to the laughable things that are happening on screen. It’s also about 20 minutes too long. And yet SuperFly is entertaining, period. The dialogue is fast and fun, and the sense of fashion is so pervasive that it occasionally distracts from the movie.

Takes a long time getting started and doesn't hit its stride until Danny starts coaching a team of fellow cons -- think "Bad News Bears," just nastier.

Great trash, one of those mediocre movies that in its own crass way is more enjoyable than most things that get nominated for Oscars.

In terms of story and emotional power, Brave comes up short.

Can't sustain its narrative for a full 95 minutes.

Art School Confidential exudes confidence as long as it is satirizing a questionable, at least according to Clowes, institution of higher learning. But the film loses its way with multiple subplots, becoming a hodgepodge that isn't particularly hard to follow, but, far worse, provides no compelling reason to bother.

Rush is dour, and its danger and its spectacle of mind-melting become humdrum. Still, the film is well-acted and is painstakingly accurate in details. [10 Jan 1992, p.C3]

A sweet but curiously unfulfilling story.

Even apart from the fact that it's not nearly funny enough, Bruce Almighty is a peculiar film.

Negotiating the role of a forward-thinking woman constrained by family demands and era, Elliott elevates a picture that's lovely to look at but lacking in dramatic impact.

A forced, implausible flick that loses its energy as it tries to gain momentum.

A wish that there were more Michael Caines and fewer Muppets kept cropping up during The Muppet Christmas Carol, a movie whose mechanical cuteness becomes a too-complicated veil -- and a smothering one -- for the classic Charles Dickens story. [11 Dec 1992, p.C1]

The Shallows is a very earnest woman-versus-shark film. It delivers the requisite thrills, including a surprisingly satisfying resolution. The heroine is capable; and the writers, who trap her on a rock for half the film, find ways to make her situation seem interesting. But the most important parts, the ones involving the shark, don’t feel genuine.

The makers of Man Push Cart seem so dedicated to making a film that defies Hollywood conventions that the finished product lacks enough entertainment value to justify price of admission.

The fine cinematography by Giles Nuttgens ("Hallam Foe," "Dom Hemingway") infuses warmth and texture. It conveys the laze of summer and juxtaposes the cold of the hospital with the not-quite-real palette of waking fantasy. However, also like the music, the filmmaking habitually meanders.

Despite the shortcomings, Fire Island is a feel-good, enjoyable comedy and a celebration of queer, Asian American storytelling. Let’s hope its success paves the way for even more subversive films to come.

Perry isn't the only thing wrong with Serving Sara, but he's the thing that takes a pleasantly mediocre movie and turns it into an unpleasantly mediocre one.

There's a dignity about it, and it's only later that we come to realize that this dignity is misplaced, born of a fatal reserve and a lack of complete investment.

Amateur in the true sense of the word -- plainly, proudly homemade.

Together, the two actors build a rapport that goes beyond the dialogue and justifies where the story ultimately goes. Anyway, that’s the paradox in “The Good Nurse,” which potential viewers must sort out for themselves: The performances are worth seeing, but the movie isn’t.

Violent and nonsensical, with story elements in contradiction, it is lifted up by the efforts of the actors, who try to put a human face on the blockbuster machinery and almost succeed.

A minor but sometimes touching documentary.

The Indian in the Cupboard is such a sweet film, and so lacking in the bloodthirstiness and violence that parents dread in children's films, that its mere existence seems worthy of praise. Too bad, then, that it turned out so dull and lifeless.

The Laundromat finds director Steven Soderbergh in a playful mood, but this time he’s a little too playful, and the result is a scattered and seemingly trivial movie about a serious subject — a lighthearted, jolly expose of international money laundering.

The good ol' Jim Carrey we knew and loved is back, rude, crude and unglued.

Naked Lunch will undoubtedly bring pleasure, much of it perverse, to [David Cronenberg]'s many fans - and, simultaneously, confound and repulse a huge chunk of filmgoers. [10 Jan 1992]

Eye-catching and entertaining but less inspired than the original.