There's nothing cinematic about this turgid tearjerker except the slumming presence of movie star Harrison Ford.

Although this stylish and ominously paced vehicle starts with a full itinerary, it never makes a vital connection.

The comedy is so lame that the whole enterprise comes across as depressing.

Washington is surprisingly persuasive as a world-weary blade-wielder, and Oldman makes the most of a not particularly interesting villain. But the film's breakout star may be Kunis, who brings to Solara a blend of sassiness and sexiness that's reminiscent of Michelle Pfeiffer.

What enriches the recipe is that no one is quite as cagey as they seem. Colin is officially thuggish, but he's a blinkered romantic. Archie is a mama's boy, Meredith is gay, Mal is impotent, and Peanut wears dentures.

Fortunately, Fish Tank feeds us more than crumbs and leaves us feeling like we've come up for air.

In Hollywood, it’s all about the concept, and some studio executive must have thought it would be fun to watch Adams slogging around in the Irish mud. Unfortunately, there’s no accounting for taste.

Bursting with smart dialogue, surprising situations and humor that springs from richly imagined characters.

A stark, contemplative and hauntingly brilliant film.

The result is only half as hip as hoped. Yes, this Holmes is leaner and meaner, and Watson (Jude Law) is nearly his equal. But there’s still something fussy about the result, as if bobbies had broken up the party at 11:59.

It's funny but (sorry, ladies) unrealistic that Jake continuously sneaks away from his young wife to canoodle with Jane. Baldwin is a blast, but the role requires him to indulge in indignities such as a naked webcam conversation.

Johnny Depp, Jude Law and Colin Farrell do yeoman work on behalf of their late friend and, as usual, Gilliam's film is a feast for the eyes. But all the king's men can't corral the horses running roughshod over basics like plot and character.

Although it's sly and sardonic, Police, Adjective is as rigorous as a tea ceremony -- or a Stalinist re-education camp.

The excellent animation makes up for a so-so plot, but it really doesn't matter. "The Squeakquel" is for kids.

Given the creator and the cast, "Morgans" is as drearily predictable as a plague of locusts.

Titanic technical achievement.

As much Fosse as Fellini. It’s a shadow of a shadow, refracted through a fun-house mirror. For all the noise and color, it feels like an exercise and not a natural expression.

If not for Blunt's solid performance and good support from Friend and others, The Young Victoria would not be worth the price of the ticket.

If you've ever seen anything like A Town Called Panic, you either made it yourself or you dreamed it.

What makes this low-key movie memorable are the pitch-perfect performances.

Yet so much about The Lovely Bones is so skillfully orchestrated, from the chillingly methodical villainy to the thrillingly paced manhunt, we can accept that we're in the hands of a higher power.

What makes it special is Eastwood's ability to artfully and concisely tell a story, and Morgan Freeman's wonderfully understated turn as South African President Nelson Mandela.

In a movie of murky surfaces and deep loneliness, the redemptive surprise of A Single Man is how it becomes a clear endorsement of the Buddy System.

As a melodrama, Brothers is passable entertainment. But the film squanders the opportunity to meaningfully portray the impact of war on American lives.

Up in the Air may not end up as the best picture -- that will be decided by the Academy -- but it has landed in the middle of the discussion because it's laser-focused and right on time.

It's a pleasure to watch Ryan resurrect her trademark persona, a mix of perkiness and pique, as she flounces around the room. But it's shaded with a middle-age desperation that's half real and half chick-flick shtick.

What's finest about Everybody's Fine is to watch a good fella groping hopefully toward old age.

As they build up steam, two powerful actors keep us wondering whether this train is bound for war or peace.

The Road has the signposts of an important film, but it lacks the diversions of an inviting trip.

It's a worthy cause and an honorable film, the first full-length Disney cartoon with an African-American heroine. But without a strong story, it's a case of one step forward and two steps back.

This amateurish action flick is so lacking in personality or punch, it ought to be titled "V for Video Store Discount Bin."

Old Dogs is so oafish, when it tosses us a biscuit, it feels like we've been smacked with a newspaper.

The difference between McKay and Efron is like the difference between a Broadway spectacular and a high school musical.

This movie, which was made by an animation studio in Spain, isn't trying to make a social statement; it speaks in the international language of lightweight comedy.

May be one of the most fun-free, angst-ridden teens we've seen on the big screen in a long time.

Michael as a character is defined almost solely by his helplessness and gratitude. He's as lovable as a lost puppy, but a more perceptive movie than The Blind Side would have let us see him from another angle.

Broken Embraces is stylish and sly, an engaging exercise that gives us less than meets the eye.

We are reminded: War is hell. But at their best, war movies can be cool and beautiful.

This long, ludicrous soap opera is also a mighty spectacle, a new standard in disengaged destruction.

Most of all, it’s a magical feat, one that turns puppets into personalities and an English meadow into Anderson’s world.

The Messenger is the debut film of writer and director Oren Moverman, but it's worldly wise, with two well-rounded characters.

More benevolent than Bill Maher's snarky flick "Religulous" and a heaven-sent affirmation of our common humanity.

It's a calculated crowd-pleaser that skims over the surface of the era like a cruise-ship production of "American Graffiti."

Ultimately, William Kunstler: Disturbing the Universe is a defense, not a prosecution, and the principal witness remains a shining star.

Although Precious is based on a novel, it's an act of truth-telling on behalf of a character in hellish enslavement.

Technically proficient enough to keep us intrigued; but we shouldn't have to Google a movie to know if we were scared.

It's eerie rather than wondrous.

This jam-packed picture is too zippily scripted and edited to get stuck in message mode, yet the stellar cast achieves a rare harmonic convergence.

It's zippy, and the movie version has both a computerized sheen and handcrafted detailing. Because the details are cribbed from classics, parents can enjoy this 'toon as much as their kids.

The actress and the aviatrix are a match made in heaven, but surrounding the soaring performance is a movie that's mostly earthbound.

Reilly is very funny as the sarcastic mentor, and director Paul Weitz strikes a loopy tone in the scenes at the freak encampment.

Tests the loyalty of fans that may expect his work to be extreme, but not to such an extent.

To their credit, the creative team has retained the handmade look and unruly spirit of Maurice Sendak's bedtime fable; to their discredit, they haven't added enough narrative or emotional dimension to make it an effective movie.

A vigilante/torture-porn potpourri, is particularly toxic because it's scented with phony importance.

The kind of working-class, character-driven drama that few American directors would dare to make. It's tough and unsentimental, with a documentary aesthetic that belies the craft of the calibrated tension.

Neither a comprehensive guide nor consistently good, but because the theme is romance, most of these small bites of the Big Apple are easy to digest.

In Couples Retreat, it's Favreau, not Vaughn, who is wound up, and this vacation comedy goes nowhere.

The combination of a literate script, an adroit cast and an economical style is simple addition that achieves an alchemical feat: the best film of the year.

Two things that the British know that most Americans don't: Michael Sheen is the best actor in the English-speaking world; and soccer is the only football that matters.

Rock misses the boat in deciding not to relate Good Hair to non African-Americans more.

This stylish film reminds us that great images endure after bodies and buildings crumble.

The secret in this case is the jokes, which are ferocious. Marrying a monster flick with an adolescent romance has produced a merry mutant.

This topsy-turvy flick is fitfully funny, but more often it's just odd, like the first draft of a "Twilight Zone" episode that's missing its moral.

What Barrymore brings is good-natured, girl-powered subversion, a sense of when to flaunt clichés and when to flip them over the rails.

A comedy of discomfort -- and one of their (Coen brothers) best, most insightful and most provocative films.

Unfortunately, producers (including James) went for the easy layup, showing so much on-court action instead of trying to hustle for insights about sports and society.

Even as Bard, filmmaker Milos Forman and Ferrara himself bemoan the changes, the lobby is filled with fine art -- and guests who aren't likely to harm you.

Raises more questions than it can answer in its travelogue format. It's because the premise is so intriguing and the drama is so compelling that the result is so confounding.

Offers about as much flava as a Dr. Pepper commercial and about as much drama as a “Sesame Street” rerun.

The thread connecting the ambitious girl to the acclaimed woman is enough to make us wish for a sequel titled "Chanel No. 2."

Weaving between freshness and formula, The Boys Are Back earns a gentle pat on the head.

Moore's voice is weak and fuzzy, directed at a choir that should already know the words by heart.

The film combines a pinch of morality with a healthy dose of humor to produce a movie that's entertaining for everyone.

By turning a whistle-blower into a tragicomic figure, Soderbergh sustains our interest in a complicated financial scheme and rewards it with a kickback of ghastly laughs.

Although the film begins promisingly, it proves to be little more than a soap opera.

You ought to have a movie that's both smart and sexy. But Jennifer's Body is neither. Most damning of all, it's not scary.

This is a kaleidoscopic valentine to a great city from a director who knows and loves his subject.

Initially, the puzzle structure and a pair of Oscar-winning actresses distract us from the dark vacuum at the center of this enterprise, but when it implodes, it doesn't reverberate.

Involves the gradual revelation of the hopes, fears and insecurities of well-observed characters.

What animates this dramatically constrained film are the lively words and the vitality of nature. An image of butterflies blooming in a bedroom is Keats' worldview in miniature.

An exciting cloak-and-dagger thriller.

Succeeds as both advocacy and entertainment by focusing on the family.

Although it has a great look and offers a few thrills, the animated film 9 is one of this year's biggest disappointments.

While Walt and El Grupo is less than a penetrating analysis, it's more than a Mickey Mouse advertisement.

Extract has some flavor, but the comedic kick is diluted by flat characters and a thin story.

There are good movies to be made about romantic obsession, but the premise doesn't work if the crazy stalker isn't juxtaposed with a sympathetic victim.

It's one of the funniest and most perceptive films of the year.

Near the two-minute warning, Big Fan becomes chillingly unpredictable.

What's most conspicuously missing from this ensemble is some input from the advertisers who subsidize Wintour's tyranny, and the readers who are seduced into buying her beautiful four-pound paperweights.

Ultimately it's sunk by the hole in the middle: Paul Campbell (presidential aide Billy on "Battlestar Galactica") who substitutes smarm for charm as the archetypal player who gets played.

Taiwanese director Ang Lee sees the '60s through a rose-colored telephoto lens, but his sympathetic spirit extends the generous message of the hippie era like a passed joint.

After watching Post Grad, you may wonder whether Hollywood will ever stop making generic comedies with zero tolerance for originality.

With its exploded notions of heroism, torture-rack dramatics and kamikaze gusto, it's a fiendishly entertaining flick.

Has been criticized as endorsing or condoning violence, but that assessment is unfair and inaccurate. If terrorism is to be eliminated, it must be understood, not oversimplified.

A director whose breakthrough was the story of a madman's last stand has exceeded that feat with the story of an angry man's next step.

Despite the title, My One and Only is irritatingly repetitive.

The edginess here isn't merely facile. Goldthwait's movies, including the under-appreciated "Shakes the Clown," are about reclaiming dignity from the dung heap. And he's found a fitting collaborator.

A miniaturist's masterpiece, the ebb and flow of familial love distilled to its essence.