In its third time out of the gate, Rush Hour 3, reuniting Chris Tucker and Jackie Chan, hits the ground stalling.

Diverting and pleasurable to watch, Stardust, a tongue-in-cheek sword-and-sorcerers romp bolstered by a top-flight cast, is most adroit when it plays the fantasy straight rather than sending up the genre.

Ultimately, Dresnok comes across as honest and credible, and his story is absolutely fascinating.

Any scrap of charm or honest-to-goodness humor already possessed in limited quantities by the original has been relegated to the outhouse in this sorry follow-up.

Dans Paris makes the city seem like the ideal place to be clinically depressed.

Audiences will eat it up: This is a postmillennial spy-action movie pitched to a large international audience. You hardly need subtitles.

Documentary filmmaker Julie Gavras has made a successful transition into narratives with the remarkably assured, thoroughly delightful Blame It on Fidel.

Finally, a postfeminist multicultural musical extravaganza for 8-year-old girls. Is Bratz not the most totally stylin' movie ever? Grownups won't think so, but for their daughters who share a "passion for fashion" with the dolls that are giving Barbie a run for her money, it will be the event of the season.

Unfortunately, the gags start to wear thin shortly around the 15-minute mark, not to mention the fact that they pale in comparison to the real-life indignities endured by the members of the "Jackass" crew.

The movie isn't nearly as bad as you would expect when the studio holds its only press screening the night before a national opening.

Although The Willow Tree occasionally suffers from a surfeit of portentous symbolism, it is ultimately a powerful portrait of a man who gets what he always wanted.

Unfortunately, the music is as irresistible as the tired story of a musician succumbing to substance abuse is resistible.

Khan's work, despite great performances, may not ride the popularity charts, and the film may have to content itself with attracting limited arthouse audiences.

May not offer up any fresh revelations, but this effectively assembled documentary puts it all in valuable, if depressing, perspective.

There's a fresh candidate in the running for worst movie of 2007 honors.

Witty, enjoyable costume drama imagines formative episode in life of French comedy giant.

The film feels miscast. Neither Zeta-Jones nor Eckhart look the least bit comfortable in a restaurant kitchen. More troubling, they look downright uncomfortable with each other.

It's caustic, irreverent, constantly amusing and a tiny bit rude. Not a lot, though. This isn't the "Beavis and Butt-Head" or "South Park" movie. It's almost -- dare I say it -- charming.

Ultimately this is utterly forgettable stuff, not even managing to fulfill its mandate of mindless summer fun.

Spectacular photography of the frigid domain of polar bears, walruses and seals is the chief attraction of Arctic Tale.

An unnervingly powerful picture of atrocity.

Below-the-line credits are terrific, which only increases an overwhelming sense of disappointment with the film's failed ambitions.

John Travolta takes on John Waters in Hairspray, and the result is anything but a drag in this appealingly goofy, all-singing, all-dancing screen adaptation of the Broadway musical based on the 1988 film.

The curious thing here is that Alexander Payne and Jim Taylor rewrote this long-in-development screenplay. Yet the authors of such smart comedies as "Sideways," "About Schmidt" and "Citizen Ruth" can't move the film away from the world of easy laughs and sitcom jokes into a realm where sexual prejudices and presumptions get examined in a whimsical yet insightful manner.

Sunshine is its own creature, taking inspiration from classic science fiction films but insisting on a gritty reality that much improves on past space adventures.

Powered by two first-rate performances, Jorge Gaggero's debut feature is full of psychological nuance and keen social observation.

Not a bad film and veteran star Daniel Auteuil makes any film he inhabits an interesting place to visit. Perversely, its tissue-thin substance may even make the comedy more commercial in North America than such films of his as "Monsieur Hire" and "Ridicule."

While Cheadle's fearlessly robust performance absolutely galvanizes Talk to Me, it's not the only thing that makes Kasi Lemmons' third feature such a pleasure to take in.

More accessible than some of the filmmaker's more extreme work.

The end result doesn't even satisfy on its own sleazy terms. Not only does it lack the satirical nihilism of the "Hostel" films or the admittedly clever torture machinations of the "Saw" series, it doesn't even provide its target young male audience with the requisite nudity.

"Phoenix" might go down as the problematic film, full of plot but little fun.

Superbly crafted psychological thriller.

Christian Bale plays Dieter Dengler and this is one of the actor's most complex and compelling performances.

Transformers is a wet dream for fanboys, with vehicles that whiz and whir into alien robots, spectacular sci-fi stunt chases, glistening military hardware, overheated computer software and brainy, hot girls who love Popular Mechanics.

Working from a flawed premise with characters lacking credibility and plot turns more moronic than funny, the movie flatlines in about five minutes.

Brad Bird and Pixar recapture the charm and winning imagination of classic Disney animation.

Michael Moore intelligently, comically and incisively diagnoses and calls for the treatment of a sick U.S. health care system.

What a cast but what a disappointment.

It's simply old-school stunts and movie magic.

It's an unforgettable, visceral journey into the heart of darkness.

Even with its flaws, 1408 deserves to be appreciated by connoisseurs of acting and bravura filmmaking.

Carell is getting quite good as these everyman characters but lacks the audacity of, say, a Carrey or a Robin Williams. He is making comedy out of dullness.

Expertly fashioned documentary-style drama.

A giddily subversive addition to the age-old cinema tradition of the horror comedy.

Demonstrating that the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, the screenwriter-director has delivered a well-observed film boasting highly realistic performances and dialogue, if not plot elements. But it's Posey's fascinating portrayal of a thirtysomething Manhattan single woman looking for love that lifts the film above its "Sex and the City" predictabilities.

Its razor-sharp script by Christopher Markus and Stephen McFeely and the hilariously deadpan comic performances by Ben Kingsley and Tea Leoni make it a consistent pleasure.

The result is a pleasingly discursive film that depicts Klimt and the ideals and locales of fin de siecle Vienna.

Longing makes you long for a good movie. Tedious and long-winded even at 90 minutes, this German film, written and directed by Valeska Grisebach, tells a mundane tale of adultery that lacks even the slightest insight.

The result is a highly unusual viewing experience that stimulates the senses and the conscience simultaneously.

An improvement of sorts over the lifeless 2005 edition.

The culture-clash procedural, which brings the small-town teen to big bad Hollywood, feels more perfunctory than inspired.

More dumb than funny.

This is Shakespeare as action film --- furiously paced and unapologetically cinematic.

Lights will put in more appearances at festivals before achieving a brief theatrical window for Kaurismaki devotees to gaze through. Most will do so with discouragement.

This time, in a clever script by Brian Koppelman & David Levien (who wrote the poker drama "Rounders"), the heist is for friendship.

Roth has managed the rare feat of actually improving on the original.

A cheerful and frequently amusing bit of nonsense, which certainly will provoke children into giggles. The film does not measure up to "March of the Penguins" or "Happy Feet," both Oscar-winning efforts. Nor is it trying to.

The film is messy the way Piaf's life was messy: It's unafraid of extravagant gestures even when they fail to come off.

The latest example of J-horror to reach our shores, Takeshi Furusawa's Ghost Train demonstrates that the increasingly tired genre may be in need of a serious overhaul.

Apatow's gleefully raunchy movies are, in an odd and charming way, extremely family-friendly.

For all the personal ties to the material, the film too often reaches for broad-strokes inspiration in a way that feels generic.

The film feels sleazy and nasty --- but without the pulp kick of filmmakers who know how to do sleazy and nasty.

Despite the inherent, shocking nature of the material, Dan Klores' narrowly focused, poorly paced documentary lacks a narrative thrust that could have made for a more compelling film.

Day Watch does dazzle and even at times amuse. But its imagination is limited. The backstory is shallow and pat. Its characters are mostly one-note. And everything goes on much too long at 133 minutes.

In telling this ancient story with style and humor, de Heer and his Aboriginal collaborators promote cultural understanding and acceptance by stealth, if you will.

With his (Friedkin) vigorous camera compositions and a talented cast, he manages to straddle a wickedly fine line between taught portrayal of paranoia and parody of paranoia.

More than ever, Depp masterfully keeps the enterprise afloat, even when the sheer weight of all those other characters threatens to throw it off-course.

It is an intelligently written piece that only falters during the finale.

The movie takes on the quality of a first-rate detective story.

The only misstep Jun makes, and it's hard to fault him given the budget, is the mediocre and at times heavy-handed use of music. Still, it's an unqualified success from the heartland.

Much of the bite and a good deal of the wit of the first two films are missing here. The rude send-up of beloved fairy tale conventions remains -- somewhat -- but these playful jabs no longer come as pleasing surprises. You expect them. And you expect better.

The writing in Brooklyn seems even more generic. An excessive use of voice-over narration is a sure sign of a failure of dramatization.

Overlong and overstuffed with cliches -- the movie doesn't seem to realize how close it comes to comedy.

Pretentious to the core and lacking any context or credible characterizations.

While Michael Keaton and Brendan Fraser turn in a pair of sturdy performances, the film itself proves to be a harder sell, especially because it looks and sounds like Mamet but proves to be a flimsy knockoff.

A winning combination of laughs and genuine shocks.

Hartley's kooky cosmopolitan caper can never be accused of slumming, but the shift from dry, offbeat wit to politically charged drama is a little jarring, to say the least; it's a bit like taking in Woody Allen's "Annie Hall" and having it morph mid-way through into "Shadows and Fog."

In large part the film succeeds, feeling like a good-natured throwback.

What distinguishes it are its intelligent, unsentimental screenplay, which only occasionally lapses into emotional manipulation; the assured direction by Yukihiko Tsutsumi; and the superb acting.

The film has enormous charm and zero pretense.

A ferociously entertaining thriller with sympathetic characters, stunning set pieces and pulsating excitement.

The hilariously dirty insult comic Lisa Lampanelli shows up all too briefly as Engvall's shrewish wife.

Proves to be more prone to malfunction than dysfunction.

A cut below its predecessors.

More a series of loose-limbed vignettes than a sculpted narrative, Chalk lacks a compelling dramatic drive. But the cast creates a fine, improvisatory interplay, captured with verite-style camerawork, and the unforced humor and insights go a long way.

For a comedy, it's not really funny.

Shows tremendous control and discipline, especially for a young filmmaker on her first feature. Director Julia Loktev might be working on a profoundly low budget, but her camera work and lighting are precise and imaginative.

Winnepeg filmmaker Guy Maddin isn't known for run-of-the-mill movies, but the feature he debuted at the Toronto Fest was outrageous even for him. A silent film taking the form of a twelve-chapter Feuillade-flavored serial and designed to have live accompaniment, the movie itself is a match for any of his features to date, and could outstrip earlier efforts in the arthouse arena.

The pain of watching a spouse succumb to Alzheimer's is given a particularly deep and sensitive treatment in Away From Her.

The wow factor works overtime with state-of-the-art effects sequences that often are as beautiful as they are astonishing.

Poker has proven itself a popular spectator sport on television -- at least in the short run -- but as scripted drama, where you can pretty much guess the winner of a given hand, it's dull, dull, dull.

While the film doesn't fully succeed in its striving for a Hitchcock-style ambiguity in its storytelling, it is consistently engrossing in its exploration of the fine line between civic duty and vigilantism.

Being in Paris is to be inside a work of art, and it is no surprise that in the charming collection of vignettes that make up Paris je t'aime, the art is love.

Best of all is Holm, who is consistently hilarious as the sarcastic shrink from hell.

The same organic characterizations that marked Lawrence's acclaimed 2001 film "Lantana" will attract fans of strong adult drama.

D-grade "Running Man" ripoff.

The drama never comes together in a smart, meaningful way; indeed, most revelations border on the banal.

Fails to live up to even the feeble potential of its premise.