It's an engaging piece of humanistic storytelling.

The always surprising Coen brothers have finally made a very serious movie with A Serious Man. It's about God, man's place in the world and the meaning of life, so naturally it's one of their funnier movies.

Clicks on so many levels -- heartwarming family story, rough-and-tumble display of grrrl power and a secondary but tender and convincing romance.

Falling closer in tone to "Shaun of the Dead" than "28 Days Later" or the George Romero movies, Zombieland has its tongue planted firmly in its rancid cheek while still delivering the visceral goodies.

Gervais and Robinson take what might have been a cute concept comedy and elevate it to delicious heights.

This is one helluva good movie that craves the eyeballs of as many American high schoolers as it can possibly get.

This is a sophisticated stylistic exercise too rarefied for wide audiences, but earmarked for critical kudos.

Manhattan's storied hotel is the timely subject of this passionate tribute.

While following a fairly predictable story line, the film has enough ambushes, treachery and irony to sustain audience involvement with a range of characters that stand for diverse points of view about that war.

For both the parents and the filmmakers, the journey of The Horse Boy was tough and utterly unpredictable, but their act of faith has produced a film that's surprisingly upbeat, evenhanded and imbued with wonder.

A mechanical sci-fi'er absent of logic or emotions. It functions as an expensive place-filler on the Disney release schedule and, as such, will be welcomed by only the least discriminating thriller fans.

"Paranormal" ultimately does deliver in a way that "Blair Witch" never did, but its achingly slow buildup is a test not just of an audience's patience but the power of hype surrounding the latest alternative scary movie.

Claustrophobic, tedious sci-fi thriller.

Achieves a certain cinematic distinction by outdoing "Dumb and Dumber" in sheer grossness and detail with its depiction of the unfortunate effects of explosive diarrhea.

Spectacle, a love triangle, heritage settings, bravura acting, witty dialogue, a bittersweet finale: There's something for everyone in Anne Fontaine's Coco Before Chanel.

Few films have so poignantly portrayed a father's relationships with his sons as The Boys Are Back.

It's almost laughably bland and watered-down in its desire to appeal to the widest possible audience. It won't succeed in that goal, but it has enough pizzazz to captivate undemanding tweeners.

Under Tucci's direction, Blind Date careens into tedium as the couple plays out permutations of a blind-date pairing.

One hell of a date movie. A surgical examination of the male psyche based on David Foster Wallace's book and written and directed by John Krasinski, there is plenty of food for thought and argument.

This is a typical Moore oeuvre: funny, often over the top and of dubious documentation, but with strongly made points that leave viewers much to ponder and debate after they walk out of the theater.

Unfortunately, whatever father/daughter, time/memory, music/therapy issues Jaglom is striving to invoke here come across as mostly psychobabble and immaturity.

The whole film, a comedy about crime and mental illness, seems at war with itself.

The splashy animation is well-executed but again a bit monotonous for a full-length feature.

The title is a good indication of this movie's blandness and predictability.

A campy pastiche of horror and high-school movie cliches, the film only rises above standard-issue scare fare by dint of Cody's sneaky sense of humor.

Paris is a bittersweet film containing rare moments of comedy.

An ambitious, visually handsome production which fails to ignite.

The story often appears a little unreal.

A slow meander through the mostly stagnant life of a character hardly worth the bother.

Bright Star may not be a joy forever but it will do until the next joy comes along.

Claire Denis, not always an easy director, is in top form here directing an almost all-black cast with grace and delicacy. For the happy few, this is French art house cinema at its unpretentious best.

Offers a brisk and eye-opening approach to recent history. The title, by the way, comes from Henry Kissinger.

Part musical, part love story, part family melodrama, part inspirational treacle, Tyler Perry's latest movie, I Can Do Bad All by Myself is something of an unholy mess. Alternately stupefying and entertaining, the film does benefit from a strong cast.

The lack of charisma exhibited by leads Jesse Metcalfe and Amber Tamblyn doesn't help matters, and not even the stalwart presence of Michael Douglas fails to provide the proceedings with sufficient gravitas.

The cast sparkles especially Simon Baker, a sturdy leading-man type, who is primed to break through any day now, and Paz Vega, already a star in Latin market.

Gabbert and Schein keep the focus on their subjects, interpreting their struggles through the ups and downs in the couple's relationship as they grapple with increasingly difficult issues. This character-driven approach draws viewers into the couple's struggle and prompts consideration of similar lifestyle changes.

There's little to distinguish this from the rest of the entries coming down the horror film assembly line, though the presence of Carrie Fisher as a shotgun-toting housemother who taunts the killer by shouting "Come to mama!" offers some camp value.

Do Quentin and Antoine represent ego and alter-ego? Or two warring desires inside the individual? This is the kind of hazy film open to almost any interpretation.

Seldom has such great star power been marshaled in the service of a sillier movie than The Other Man.

Yet for all the complex symbolism and visual brilliance, Blind Pig ultimately is an extended short.

9 never adds up to much. It's a dark adult film that gives itself over to the chases and frights of a kiddie movie.

Minor flaws and all, Crude represents a crucial document as much as any evidence put forward in the courtroom itself.

The technical barrage of visual and digital effects, quick cuts and strobe lighting does produce something akin to the sensation of playing a video game. So why, one wonders, don't potential viewers simply play one instead of watching this pale imitation?

A viewer is challenged to guess what the filmmakers thought they were doing. A 1930s screwball comedy with a modern sensibility? A misguided valentine to those who march to the beat of a different drummer?

Even if it's a one-joke movie that runs out of steam, director Scott Sanders manages to keep the gag going for 90 minutes.

Not a single person in this ensemble comedy doesn't suffer from colossal stupidity.

Dabis, a Palestinian-American, has thoroughly re-energized the genre with refreshing wit, honest emotions, incisive observations and a perfect cast.

Leo should satisfy serious older filmgoers, even if it suffers from wobbly storytelling.

More atmospheric than compelling.

The new gimmick here is that all the flying body parts and absurd impalements come in 3D. And that's about as inspired as anything gets in this edition. Story and character get chucked to the sidelines as the arena has room for only death scenes.

A dreary dramedy of a road film that starts off ploddingly and proceeds to only grow more so as it crawls along.

Consistent with her ice queen reputation, Wintour is often disconcertingly direct and frequently unfeeling, though not without a dry sense of humor.

Remaking eccentric English comedies is seldom a good idea, especially the ones from Ealing Studios with all those wonderful character actors. But against all odds, the new version of St. Trinian's almost pulls it off.

It's an unsettling, "Taxi Driver"-like character study that shows the underside to hero worship and the primal world of professional football.

The film may attract older moviegoers curious to see their generation represented onscreen doing what comes naturally for once. It's doubtful that the general audience will be so inclined.

Undeniably offers cheap laughs, its most receptive audiences will likely be found in retirement-community auditoriums.

As with his 2007 effort, director-screenwriter Rob Zombie's approach is far grittier than in the original series.

It's a low-wattage film about a high-wattage event. Which is somewhat disappointing, though you do get a thoughtful, playful, often amusing film about what happened backstage at one of the '60s' great happenings.

The film is by no means terrible -- its two hours and 32 minutes running time races by -- but those things we think of as being Tarantino-esque, the long stretches of wickedly funny dialogue, the humor in the violence and outsized characters strutting across the screen, are largely missing.

Dunderheaded delirium from writer-director Bobcat Goldthwait.

An innocuous -- to the point of blandness -- look at the "hardships" of a recent college grad.

Adult actors pretty much let the youngsters upstage them. The two leads, Bennett and Vanier, do a nice job holding the center of gravity while the film goes nuts around them. Best of all, Shorts is short, finishing before you can truly get tired of all those wishes gone wrong.

A long but powerful true-life drama of 1970s German terrorists features masterful storytelling and bravura performances.

The decibels, energy and overall quality are high in writer-director Kari Skogland's Fifty Dead Men Walking, her supremely well-made, highly stylized, graphic tale of Northern Ireland's "Troubles" in the late 1980s.

Based on a true story -- that never happened. That might explain why the film circles and circles its subject but never strikes dramatic pay dirt.

Only in the loosest sense is X Games 3D: The Movie an actual movie. It is essentially a promotional film for extreme action sports and ESPN.

Like a good ad, Art & Copy bounds along and never bores. That's a big credit to Pray's savvy compilation and of editor Phillip Owens' crisp cuts.

Peter's lightning-fast script and Loncraine's steady direction steer this road picture to the sunny side of the street.

In directing the film, Lee allows the show's inherent vitality to carry the doc, relying on Stew's charismatic stage presence, the cast's absorbing performances and the production's effective combination of minimal staging and impressive lighting design to convey the musical's energetic celebration of artistic discovery.

An enjoyable spoof of Mexican soap operas and the entertainment business itself. The film doesn't ask to be taken seriously but if you absolutely insist, there is pointed commentary about the deep divisions within that society over skin color, gender politics and social backgrounds.

Kore-eda listens to his characters' inner thoughts with the attentiveness of a piano tuner, and reveals them with the lightest inferences.

No true fan of science fiction -- or, for that matter, cinema -- can help but thrill to the action, high stakes and suspense built around a very original chase movie.

It is a work of great fantasy and charm that will delight children ages 3 to 100.

German-born director Robert Schwentke ("Flightplan") keep things moving briskly enough so that the leaps in time mostly obscure the leaps in logic.

Had Cameron Crowe and the late John Hughes collaborated on a movie populated by Disney Channel superstars, the result might have looked and sounded a lot like Todd Graff's Bandslam. And that's meant as a compliment.

Tediously one-note comedy.

Documentaries are a hard sell these days, and despite the timely, pertinent subject, the film simply doesn't have enough entertainment value to draw an audience to the multiplex.

Whimpers a bit like "Rosemary's Baby" and gurgles occasionally like "The Exorcist," but the video look and bare-bones craftsmanship all scream B movie.

It Might Get Loud offers a thrilling personal tour of three exceptional electric guitarists' careers that's equally appealing to musicians and rock enthusiasts alike.

It comes off as an unpleasant, unrealistic morality tale. Loaded with music and pretty bodies, the film has a chance to lasso a young, indiscriminate audience of Kutcher fans.

For a film so pessimistic about mankind, Taxidermia erupts with some light-hearted technical inspiration: Cinematographer Gergely Poharnok's compositions are wickedly hilarious, while production designer Adrien Asztalos' concoctions are peculiarly gross.

Becomes a bracing portrait of three fascinating individuals who use this work as a means to keep living.

It's still a gimmicky, tricked-out tale that is all too self-aware. But the film does keep you guessing and probably guessing wrong.

As enjoyable as this foodie movie is, you wish it would take a deeper, more nuanced measure of the women who, in two different eras, star in the movie's kitchens.

Giamatti is aptly cast, playing his own persona with awkward anxiety and suitably skewed humor.

After nearly two hours of nonstop mayhem, the film ends on a surprisingly muted note, though pains have been taken to make sure that the hoped-for sequel has been carefully set up.

This is another rough-edged, noodling affair in which genial but frustratingly self-absorbed twenty- and thirty-somethings chatter on and on about their lives, loves and finances.

The result is smart, gruesome and inventive enough to more than please niche genre fans who are likely to spread the word to fellow admirers of gallows humor.

A "hybrid documentary" that bemusedly blurs the line between fact and fiction.

Apatow is on the right track. In moving his adolescent male comedies into more adult realms, the humor sharpens and characters deepen.

Shot rivetingly by cinematographer Brooke Aitken, who combines digital, night-vision and thermal-imaging formats into a formidable package, the footage is edited tautly by Geoffrey Richman and enhanced measurably by J. Ralph's suspenseful score.

Stunning production quality and the story's extremity should arouse interest beyond the specialty Asian market.

The movie is awfully close to a video game with its own specific rules, but its characters are appealing and funny, "Aliens" doesn't have a mechanical feel that drags down most video-game movies.

In the absence of a sturdy, plausible foundation on which to hook all those grisly bits, the film, originally a Dimension release, tends to play out more like a protracted "Saw" outtake reel.

Beyond mere titillation -- and some good-natured laughs at the expense of genre cliches -- Not Quite Hollywood has a sociological edge.

This searing, stylish account of World War II heroism from Denmark's Ole Christian Madsen avoids period realism, conveying the story of two heroes of the Danish resistance as a noir thriller, complete with shadowy alleys, double-crosses galore and the requisite femme fatale.

This small journey of self-discovery, even at an advanced age, mirrors the larger one Berinstein so fondly addresses here and leaves you with that oh-so-rare but genuine warm and fuzzy feeling.

A sensitive but not sentimental story about a romance involving a mentally challenged young man never makes a misstep.