Has a silly, insouciant glamour often employed to sell hair conditioners and perfume.

A satire whose dead aim stops wounding - and starts making - stereotypes of white middle-classness.

POSITIVE vibes aside, Down in the Delta is fairly simple stuff, with acting that at times sinks to the dialogue-of-agreement level of those after-school specials a network used to run a while back. But it will go down in history as the first film to be directed by Maya Angelou, and it isn't a bad one at that.

All the parts of Return that deal with Luke's faith in his father and his appeals for him to reject the dark side of The Force are very emotional. In fact, the best sections of Return are extensions of the melancholy implications of "The Empire Strikes Back." [Special Edition]

A wicked, light-headed first half dissolves into a bloody, head-bashing second half . The previews make it seem like a comedy. It isn't.

This sure beats "Major League II." In fact, this movie is a lot more entertaining than the Michelle Pfeiffer showcase "Dangerous Minds." That was a big hit. Using Hollywood logic, I have to assume that this one won't be.

A runny intimate portrait that doesn't trust Tammy Faye Messner and her story to enthrall you. So they've all but spelled it out: k-i-t-s-c-h.

Nowhere near as funny as "Spinal Tap," but fans of this kind of deadpan humor are guaranteed to get a few chuckles out of this one. All of the actors are marvelously horrible, and in this movie, bad equals good.

The moment this movie began to go wrong, so wrong, was when the word "angels" started working its way into the script, coming out of the mouths of people we are supposed to respect and look to for hope.

It's not easy to wrench belly laughs out of contract killing, but Nine Yards does just that.

The film is in the key of "Romeo and Juliet," and it's a one-note tune.

Troubling and troubled.

The movie is meant to be uplifting and to the degree that you can ignore its unquestioning treatment of mental illness, I suppose it is.

One of those good video movies that should do decent box office based on the drawing power of the stars. It helps that there's a fair amount of suspense and some decent gunplay, but there's not much reason to see it on the big screen unless you just love that over-used "whup-whup" sound effect of rotating helicopter blades.

Aiming to keep it real, the cast of the new dance casserole Center Stage sweats spunk.

Sandra Goldbacher, writing and directing her first feature, is a sure-handed filmmaker. The movie is a tableau of sensuality.

Powerful war spectacle neglects novel's heart and much of story.

Sometimes, when you watch a Stillman movie, you can't help thinking that the guy ought to get out more.

Freundlich's problem is that he has made an essentially interesting movie that never seems brave enough to say what it really intends.

The vibe is acoustic-cafe: cute, catchy and ironic given its wimpy point of view.

A tedious, soapy romp about overlapping lives and destiny.

Turturro tricks you into thinking there's magic realism streaming through this ode to art and commited love - despite there being little magic and not a trace of reality to speak of.

Collapses under its own contempt.

A high-spirited, big-bottomed Polaroid of the comedian in a fat suit.

Directing his first movie, Jack Green, cinematographer on several Clint Eastwood films, shows an ease with the material (written by Jim McGlynn), but there's something a bit dull about the movie.

The director bludgeons us dumb with her genius.

Too smitten with the Eisenhower-era nostalgia.

For all its lazy beauty, the movie is rooted in the personalities of its lead characters and they, unfortunately, are bloodless, affectless, emotionless dopes who turn their considerable lack of scruples on the business of senseless killing, for which they seemingly have no remorse. [13 Feb. 1998]