Some of the movie probably will mystify viewers not steeped in Middle Eastern history and culture, but a good deal of the humor can be appreciated by anybody.

Biutiful exists, at its best and beautifully, in that space that's hard to define, between the outside and the interior, action and thought, body and soul.

If the movie packs a weaker punch than the original, it has less to do with the action sequences than the script (by Edmond Wong, son of Raymond, who wrote the first), a flimsy affair with subpar villains.

The best part about the movie is the way it shifts focus, starting as an observation of the animal and then subtly morphing to the point of view of Nénette, who passively experiences a jumble of voices that start to run together.

To the extent that it's original, The Mechanic is insane, bordering on gloriously insane.

For all the hellfire histrionics and well-timed jump scares, there is actual, admirable intellect behind The Rite.

Giamatti and Pike are backed by a strong cast, including Minnie Driver, lots of fun as Barney's Jewish princess second wife.

As Russell Boyd's remarkable cinematography emphasizes the dwarfing grandeur of the surrounding topography, Weir shows how the corresponding smallness of individuals is compensated for by the grandeur of their aspiration.

Solid performances, and a sincere faith in the dignity of the average working stiff, save it from getting too preachy.

Rao avoids high drama, and while there is humor, the film's tone is one of melancholy.

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

A gutsy movie, in that Leigh says something about life that nobody really wants to believe, and he says it forcefully: There is such a thing as "too late."

This is a remarkable movie: lovely, slow-paced and almost silent, rich with pathos and deft comic gestures.

There's nothing here but a concept and a marketing and merchandising strategy, at the center of which somebody - oh, no - had to come up with an actual movie.

Despite bursts of hilarity and an A-list cast, this is a dark, difficult, weirdly existential film - like some seriocomic spin on "I and Thou."

Dumont makes movies that almost nobody wants to see. That doesn't make him a great filmmaker, but he's a great filmmaker all the same.

A tough slog through emotional swamplands. It's murky when it needs to be clear. But Hedlund is the big news here.

A captivating mix of formality, ambiguity and offbeat humor. On the surface a simple fable, it's actually much more.

Baughman and O'Hara's documentary spews out so much information in just 111 minutes that the movie would have benefited from a longer run time and tighter focus.

Extraordinary and beautiful.

It's the kind of fun and quirky film that you don't see very often in art houses this time of year.

It's not bad. It's cute.

As a viewing experience, the film is by turns heartrending and stultifying, but mostly stultifying.

The entertaining work by Spacey and Pepper is a good thing because the film has problems, including an utter lack of subtlety.

A meditative state of a movie. While shorter-attention-spanned moviegoers should stick to "The Fighter," this is an interesting and enjoyable entry on the opposite side of the genre.

This is the first Focker installment not directed by Jay Roach, who did a good job balancing the yuks with the more outrageous gross-outs. That comic-revolting parity shouldn't be much of a challenge for "American Pie's" Paul Weitz, and yet the skeevier bits aren't especially funny.

Whatever the intention, Somewhere, in its odd, detached way, is compelling viewing.

If there's one big difference between this version and the old, it's in the attitude toward violence. The new version may be more graphic, but it doesn't present violence as inevitable or necessary, just ugly.