Some of it works, most of it doesn't. But the real problem of the movie is that it's so utterly lacking in freshness and originality. This is exactly the kind of formulaic indie gay comedy that was so overdone in the '80s and '90s that it became a film festival cliché.

The joy is in watching a talented cast make something crisp and fresh out of material that -- though perfectly adequate and enjoyable -- trespasses little into territory that's new or out of the traditionally plotted points of the genre.

The flaw in the movie is that it can't give a plausible reason WHY this patriotic Catholic family man turned traitor, and the script annoyingly addresses this lack several times by saying, "The why doesn't matter." Actually, it does. We want some reason.

The two young actors -- Hutcherson and Robb -- are terrific and unpretentious.

A thoroughly enjoyably and wistfully charming ensemble drama carried off with an irresistible Gallic flair.

This is a spare and plainly told story, and it is that plainness that gives it so much punch.

The movie is an unusually witty and intelligent romantic comedy and Hollywood's best Valentine's Day gift in years.

Not just a bad film, Hannibal Rising is downright dull, which is a far worse crime.

It's recidivist Murphy: bad-skit comedy populated by caricatures in search of a movie.

The Last Sin Eater has a specific audience in its sights, one that doesn't mind the film's characters having their problems solved by the healing power of truth and faith.

It's hard to imagine how the movie year could possibly produce a more annoyingly stupid movie. It's so witless, broadly played and insulting to anyone's intelligence that it's almost as offensive, in its own way, as "Jackass: The Movie."

Life on the freeway is hell, but what comes next for these workers might be worse.

There's no conviction among these self-involved folks who sidestep commitment with a quip and a grin.

States straight off that the man's legacy has been tarnished in most of the liberal world's eyes by his being the spoiler of the 2000 presidential election. "It will be engraved on his tombstone," says his friend Phil Donahue.

Smokin' Aces isn't a story, it's a premise with a madhouse of characters flung into a collision course that ends at the same finish line.

It fulfills a lot of the criteria for a successful oater: spectacular scenery, an evocative frontier atmosphere, an ensemble of enjoyably tight-lipped performances, and plenty of stylish violence.

Peled's film, much of it shot clandestinely with smuggled cameras, is commendable in its fair depiction of the problems faced by the textile industry.

It's an old-fashioned Soviet road movie, filled with kind souls of the otherwise desperate (and at times predatory) world.

For all of the credibility of the performances (or at least the teens), it all feels like recycled social commentary.

The ads for Stomp The Yard play like a music video and, thus, they are not misleading; the film consists of a series of phenomenal dance sequences, all highly entertaining and expertly choreographed.

It's the warmth and resolve and humility of the young men that keeps us going. It may be more ennobling than introspective, but these three earn their nobility.

It has a tendency to overextend its outrageous arias, but this pop-art confection both spoofs and celebrates the crazy conventions of movie melodramas and genre cinema with pure affection.

As stiff and slogging as animated films come.

Erin Gruwell (Hilary Swank) is real, and for all the dramatic license that writer/director Richard LaGravenese takes in his film, her story -- and the stories of her students -- are moving.

Gets entertaining when Liu kicks in.

This is one of the most confusing, horribly written movies I've ever seen, and I'm the king of watching bad movies ... and liking them.

In many ways, a magical little movie in its own right, and a thoroughly pleasant experience.

Like the folk tales from centuries past, Pan's Labyrinth is a dark odyssey with nightmarish visions and cruel threats, but coming through the sacrifice and suffering is the childlike belief in magic and imagination that for Del Toro represents the hope and optimism of a happily ever after in this cruel world.