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.

It's dark fun, in the spirit of "Gremlins."

Dunst is not the only person doing quality work in All Good Things, but she is the only one worth watching.

The film is confusing and awkwardly timed, and it drags.

This sequel is also goofy, also eye-popping - see it in Imax 3-D if you really want to fry your optic nerve - and also weakly scripted. And yet the sheer size of the thing works against it: The effects are absolutely spectacular, but they blow the goofy-cheesy quotient straight through the roof.

This is a cute movie, a kid's movie, and a rather good one.

Ultimately, The Fighter loses its courage and betrays the terms of its own story by fashioning an interpretation designed to please the people it portrays. It does a switch on us, by changing its focus from Micky's character to Micky's career and then pretending it was really about the career all along.

Megamind, it turns out, is a villain to root for.

The comedy never really takes off because it's phony.

Narrated by Lomborg, the movie uses lecture excerpts, clips of terrified schoolchildren and interviews with (mostly) like-minded scientists to get his points across.

Once it gets rolling, Unstoppable doesn't pause for breath.

As is appropriate in a well-crafted and meticulous movie, the acting is strong down the line.

No matter how guilty our knucklehead-protagonist's victims supposedly are, it's difficult to maintain a rooting interest.