A sequel arrives for Valentine's Day with the unwieldy title Step Up 2 the Streets. If it performs as well, watch for "Step Up 3: the Sprained Ankle."

Melodramatic take on love and war.

Over the last few years, the Avengers, together and separately, have spawned a number of good, very good, or reasonably entertaining movies. But with Avengers: Infinity War, the Marvel Comics franchise arrives at the stage of decadence. There’s just too much of it. A victim of its own success, there are just too many appealing characters here to stuff into one story.

The Seagull has all the big things going for it and yet so many little things going against it that it’s just not the movie it might have been.

A cut above most pictures of its type.

The only thing wrong with “Shotgun Wedding” is that it isn’t any good. Aside from that, it’s a pleasant experience.

A feat of droll, refractive, melodramatic self-portraiture.

Don't tell Mom, but everybody seems stoned.

This is the world of Maze Runner: The Death Cure, the third installment in the “Maze Runner” trilogy, a kind of destitute man’s impoverished cousin’s answer to the “Divergent” series.

As light entertainment goes, CHiPs is fairly accomplished, and Pena and Shepard make a good team. If someone wants to turn CHiPs into a franchise of some kind, worse things have happened.

There's one really good idea at work in Warm Bodies, which is to take "Romeo and Juliet" and mash it up with a zombie movie.

Dreamy and deliberate.

A disjointed movie with uneven acting and too many scenes that defy belief.

Suffers from Resnais' inability to open it up and give it the look and pulse of a film.

Graffiti Bridge is a bad excuse for a movie but a very good excuse for a rock concert. [03 Nov 1990, p.C3]

Ponderous, repetitive and lacking a single rousing action sequence.

A lively and amiably stupid action movie, given an extra dose of atmosphere by the presence of Vin Diesel. He is his own quality control, his own authentic center, so that even in a story like this — a kind of Philip K. Dick for dummies — there’s something onscreen that’s not ridiculous, that’s reliable and consistently cool.

Extreme Measures has disturbing moments, and poignant ones, too. It plays a good game of paranoia with its unlikely hero. Once the story gets past Luthan's implausible firing on trumped-up drug charges, it places him alone in a hostile world. Relying only on a determination to solve the medical puzzle, he goes on a desperate expedition into the bowels of the subway system. It's a grim, scary sequence, and Grant seems a million miles away from his stammering comedic style -- an extreme that is surprisingly engaging.

Guy Ritchie is the worst screenwriter in the world, but, to be fair, he is not the worst director. He is only the worst director of the people who actually get to make movies.

As Enzo Ferrari, Driver looks stylish and commanding, but the movie doesn’t figure out how to make him into an interesting man.

There is a kind of historical British movie — Tolkien is one of them — that almost feels as if the subject were incidental.

For a bighearted effort like this one, some patience on the audience's part is not too much to ask. Go ahead. Take a chance.

A film about profound ideas deserved more imagination.

It's more psychological than a genre movie, and that is the source of both its greatest interest and its biggest problem.

It is maliciously entertaining, up to a point.

What pushes it above mediocrity is that it ends better than it begins.

A cute and amusing little romance that has all the fiery impetuosity of an egg sandwich.

The Plot Against Harry isn't stark and merciless enough to be a black comedy or zany enough to be just plain fun. After a while the oddball characters and unlikely twists of the plot lose their charm, and the movie just seems self-conscious and cute. [07 Feb 1990, p.E1]