Spinning in that wedding dress, or glaring in wary repose, Lawrence catches fire on screen.

It's a cagey delight, and an imposing feature directorial debut for one of Britain's TV stalwarts.

It’s a picture that stands strong on the side of art, of history, of working to solve the puzzle of things that maybe at first you don’t fully understand. It’s both a shout of joy and a call to arms. It’s all about the bold, muscular act of caring.

Adroitly directed by Orson Welles, who also plays the star, it is a grade A gooseflesh-raiser.

To find that valuable truth, you have to dig through an avalanche of d--- jokes and strenuous slapstick.

Whatever city this one is showing in...move there.

A wry, openhearted, vaguely outré romantic comedy, albeit a bittersweet one.

That Greenberg has merits is undeniable. Gerwig, a funny mix of Kate Winslet and the joyfully ditzy young Diane Keaton, should end up a star. Stiller dials back his own schtick and deserves to be taken seriously.

I finished Larsson's novel with the uncomfortable sense it used a good mystery as an excuse to dwell on sadism and perversity -- an aspect only exacerbated on screen.

It must have been difficult for Schanberg to confront the record of his own blindness and powerlessness when he wrote the articles on which this movie is based. It must be nerve-racking for the producers to offer a tale so lacking in standard melodramatic satisfactions. But the result is worth it, for this is the clearest film statement yet on how the nature of heroism has changed in this totalitarian century.

Disney is trying to lure the disparate audiences of "Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire" (kids) and "The Passion of the Christ" (Evangelicals). But on either level, Narnia fails. There's no fire, no passion and not much fun.

Sharing its subject's virtues, it is a lovely addition to the annals of the Greatest Generation.

No goggles, no gloom. And no competition for the coolest, orneriest, funniest, best-looking movie of early 2011.

Well acted and acutely observed, the film doesn't try to be a conventionally satisfying coke-land action film.

If there is a hero in the new film, it is Donald Sutherland, who gives an energetic, intelligent, emotionally rangy performance as the public health officer working on the case. There is nothing wrong, either, with Brooke Adams as his colleague and lover. But, sadly, they can not compensate for all the other mistakes in a film that lingers too long and too soberly over material that, as the original showed, must be quickly, even superficially handled, if it is to be accepted at all.

An elegantly polished little film.

Scripter Jules Furthman and Director Edmund Goulding have steered a middle course, now & then crudely but on the whole with tact, skill and power.

The result is a Big Mac of a movie, junk food that somehow reaches the chortling soul.

This feels the way a lot of us are living now -- on desperation's dull yet still cutting edge.

Petzold loves his romantic bargains, his meditations on longing, obsession and deceit, and he unfurls all of that seductive cloth of gold in Undine.

By buying the pitch that its central character’s escapades were the stuff of mesmerizing drama or comedy, Scorsese, Winter and DiCaprio reveal themselves as dupes — the latest in a long line of clever folks swindled by Jordan Belfort.

Mostly, though, it’s an enjoyable portrait of a prickly friendship between two men of vastly different temperaments.

The Landlord is a glossy, flat, fake Hollywood attempt at black social comedy.

The actors are supported by the best kind of writerly craft and directorial technique, the kind that refuses to call attention to itself, never gets caught straining for scares or laughs. Popular moviemaking -- elegantly economical, artlessly artful -- doesn't get much better than this.

The story wraps up with a tenderness that feels true but completely without mush. The irony of the title fades as Win Win wins you over.

We have this movie--full of acceptant, sidelong glances at human quirkiness--to delight us.

A small epic with subtle strengths.

A tangy frappe of a movie--preposterously comic, deliriously romantic, outrageously stylish in black-and-white.