A slight story with little action, this rueful dissection of male bonding builds to an undeniably emotional last act.

Of the many performers captured by D.P. Turaj Aslani's highly mobile video camera, an unframed woman singer identified as Rana Farhan is a standout.

A riveting Argentine thriller spiked with witty dialogue and poignant love stories.

Comprising seven individual films with a cumulative running time of more than 8 1/2 hours, Have You Heard From Johannesburg (the title comes from a Gil Scott-Heron song) naturally will find a more receptive home on television and home video, but New York's Film Forum, presenting it in three parts, is to be commended for giving the series its world theatrical premiere.

Writer-director David Kittredge clearly has serious things on his mind about such subjects as voyeurism, the thin line between fantasy and reality, the link between sex and violence, etc., but whatever points he is trying to make are lost in the general muddle.

These talented performers star in two of the wittiest, most sophisticated sitcoms on the air, but for this movie pairing they're stuck with an endlessly silly plot line and overblown physical mayhem that is instantly forgettable. The fact that they make it so funny nonetheless is a testament to their abilities.

One hates to say it, but after this and "Black Snake Moan," it might be time for the talented actress (Ricci) to keep her clothes on.

The intensity of observation reminds one of Bergman's "Scenes From a Marriage," though of course played in a much more benign key. For the patient, the deliberate pacing is perfect, as each additional layer is quietly and subtly put in place.

Their heart is in the right place, and their tale is colorful, complete with Indian dancers in ceremonial costumes dancing on a street corner.

A well-made and entertaining descent into a black-comic hell.

A must for Doors fans as the film attempts to disentangle the facts from the myths surrounding the legendary band.

Who Do You Love, directed by Broadway veteran Jerry Zaks, pays attention to the music but to its credit pays even more attention to the actors and story.

This beautifully made film (which won the best director award at last year's Venice Film Festival) is the very definition of an art house movie with limited appeal, but its political import gives it added talking points that will draw attention.

This is an affectionate portrait rather than a meaningful critical analysis.

While The Misfortunates careens with madcap hilarity through the Strobbe's tumultuous lives, it also resonates with its serious story undercurrent. In essence, it is the story of a boy's struggle to survive, and, in this case, evolve.

Goldberger mistakes deadness for deadpan and mere oddness for that touch of genius that allows a first-rate filmmaker to get laughs out of the contrast between gruesome acts and mundane social concerns.

It is so outrageous with its ethnic caricatures, hokey plot and twin-brother mix-ups that you know the whole thing is a lark.

Should be intriguing to all who know the family, as well as to cineastes yonder at the arty film schools who will lap up its elliptical/self-reflexive style. Normal people will simply walk out on it.

Displaying his usual mixture of broad, sitcom-style humor and soapy melodramatics, it's an entertaining if hokey effort that his target audience will eat up.

After a career excelling in highbrow urban romances, Hong Kong director Peter Chan ("Perhaps Love") earns his spurs in his march into war epic territory.

The film bears an undeniable stamp of authenticity in its depiction of the romantic crisis suffered by two twentysomethings in New York's ever picturesque Greenwich Village.

Only the film's slow pace softens its powerful message.

A popcorn movie that reaches back to the fantasy epics of old and forward into the digital future, where the word "unimaginable" no longer exists.

The movie so deftly mixes sentimentality, romance and bathos in just the right measures that her fans and maybe new ones will enjoy the new Miley.

The film is essential viewing for anyone who cares about the fate of the mountain region and the legacy of the Dalai Lama.

A loud, disjointed and not terribly funny comedy, which probably is what one expects with a title like that. The unfortunate thing is, it didn't need to be.

Moore and Neeson beautifully underplay their roles, lending screenwriter Erin Cressida Wilson's ("Secretary") dialogue an unexpected, palpable poignancy.

Intriguing mix of engaging drama and wonderful dialogue, all infused with stirring hints of the supernatural.