Both a biographical portrait and an exploration of the tradition of Jewish liturgical music in America.

The final scenes pack a surprising melodramatic punch.

An affectionate adaptation of Raymond Chandler's novel that beautifully evokes the seamy side of 1940s Los Angeles via superb production design and the same period atmosphere cinematographer Alonzo previously evoked for Chinatown.

Director Cassavetes here applies his remarkable talent for social observation in a light-comedy context and creates one of the strangest, and in many ways most frustrating, screen comedies in recent years.

The film's flippant style ultimately undermines its material - Rosen's decision not to immediately identify interviewees is especially irritating - and, ironically, makes the American art scene of the '60s appear as shallow and trendy as its detractors always claimed it was.

Long expert at unforgettable characterizations, Techine turns his talents toward creating an evocative sense of time and mood.

The movie opens with the dismal statistic that most teachers quit after three years. Akel and Mass see the humor in the situation, but the laughs are small and sad.

The film may be lighter in tone than Imamura's more recent work, but it still has a number of serious things to say about life in contemporary Japan.

Gosling is the film's salvation: He really is good enough to make this underwritten fantasy feel as though it amounts to something. But it doesn't.

A delirious fever dream of pulp-western conventions by way of 1950s Hollywood melodrama, Thai filmmaker Wisit Sasanatieng surreal oddity unfolds in heavily manipulated colors so rich they seem ready to leap off the screen, punctuated by spasms of over-ripe dialogue, floridly dramatic songs and maniacal villainous laughter.

The film's underlying notion, that imperfection is the essence of humanity and the pursuit of bland flawlessness a kind of soul-killing drug, is far more compelling than its story of clichéd teen angst.

Though the political lesson drives the movie, the action is also effective as the odd couple flees from their oppressors. This is an engrossing depiction of racial tensions and an oppressive penal system.

Director/co-screenwriter Rob Cohen shrewdly opts for a three-tiered approach to the biographical material, making DRAGON a poignant interracial love story, a thrilling kung-fu flick, and a surreal fantasy in the which the hero literally confronts his inner demons. Jason Scott Lee captures his subject perfectly, and his handling of the action scenes is particularly impressive. The result is one of the most purely enjoyable American films in recent years.

Despite its interesting, grim tone and undeniably striking visuals from director Burton and production designer Furst, the film fails to synthesize its strengths into a compelling whole.

The flashy spectacle of intersecting narratives and its crosscutting and fractured chronology nearly overwhelms the film's simple message, in this case that despite divisions of language, race and geography, we're all connected.

Saturday Night Live veteran Chris Kattan more or less steals the film as the racially confused Mr. Feather, a white supremacist bad guy whose speech patterns tend to get down and funky against his will.

At heart an emotionally rich look at mothers and their daughters.

Indeed, all of the performers in the film truly shine, and all of them can probably thank Sam Mendes for creating an ideal environment.

The key to enjoying the fourth installment in this testosterone-fueled franchise is accepting that it's a live-action cartoon that makes no effort to conform to the laws of gravity, plausibility or common sense.

But while the material is interesting, it's not substantial enough to sustain a feature-length treatment.

While touching on subjects as serious and diverse as capital punishment, the devaluation of women in Iran and the true Islamic concept of forgiveness, this powerful melodrama from the Iranian filmmaker Asghar Farhadi is anything but a message movie.

Arguably the best adaptation of a Stephen King novel.

The wonder of it all is how bitterly funny the complications are, especially as filtered through Dedee's monstrously self-centered voice-over.

Contrived, shallow, distasteful, and ultimately pointless, BODY DOUBLE is more an exercise in empty cinematic style than an engrossing thriller. Although cinematographer Burum executes some absolutely breathtaking camera moves, his effort goes for naught when pitted against director De Palma and cowriter Avrech's insipid narrative. What De Palma has done here is simply take elements from two superb Alfred Hitchcock films, REAR WINDOW and VERTIGO, and combine them into one insipid film. While Griffith is sexy and appealing in her role, Wasson's character is so bland that he generates little interest.

It's a visually stunning adaptation with much action, broad humor, and eroticism.

Meyer makes a fine directorial debut, pacing the film for optimal suspense despite some obvious holes in the script.

Viewers who remember Max Baer may, however, take issue with the way the film treats this charismatic fighter. In 1933, Baer became an important symbol of Jewish strength when he faced off against Hitler's favored fighter, Max Schmeling, and while reducing Baer to a bloodthirsty villain makes it easier to root for Braddock, it's an unfair bit of character assassination.

Strong performances -- Baldwin's smoothly vicious Shelley is a revelation -- and Kramer's eye for the striking detail give the familiar material its own distinctive flavor.

Gallo's poor, poor pitiful me routine wears very thin, very fast, but Ricci is incandescent, a softly-glowing dumpling of a dream-girl in powder-blue fishnet tights and sparkly tap shoes: She's the diamond in the dirt.

A terrifically droll satire on both horror movies and American middle-class values. Despite the subject matter, our hero and heroine emerge as genuinely sympathetic characters, which ultimately makes one wonder where the film's true sympathies lie.

Former actor Don Taylor directs smoothly and efficiently and elicits fine performances from the cast, highlighted by the warm relationship between Zira, (a touching Kim Hunter) and Cornelius, knowingly played by Roddy McDowall, who returns in the role after being replaced in the first sequel because he was directing a movie (TAM-LIN) at the time.

Like all of Leigh's films and plays, it was devised though improvisational exercises in which the actors created characters based on someone they knew. As such, it is a mixture of flawlessly played ensemble scenes and brief, often wordless moments.

This hysterically funny parody of Cold War tensions sees a Russian submarine get stuck in a sandbar off the coast of New England after its commander, Bikel, ventures too close to shore in order to get a good look at America.

Under veteran helmer Roy Ward Baker's solid direction, Kruger makes a surprisingly sympathetic "enemy" protagonist, and one can't help but root for the brave and determined young German in his escape attempt.

Tony Gilroy deserves the lion's share of credit for making such a delightful movie. His writing and direction find the perfect balance of comedy, sexiness, and tension.

John Curran's pretty melodrama rubs off a few of the barbed edges from W. Somerset Maugham's 1925 novel about love and infidelity in a time of cholera, but no matter: the centerpiece is Naomi Watts' outstanding portrayal of an adulteress redeemed.

Although it tends to rely heavily on slapstick in the second half, the movie provides plenty of laughs and is one of director Landis's best efforts.

If you've never given much thought to the lives affected each time you choose one brand of coffee over another, allow this handsomely mounted documentary from British filmmakers Marc and Nick Francis to serve as a bracing, double-shot of reality.

A feel-good movie for anyone who's ever wanted to see yuppies burned, blown up, or dropped from the sky.

Though beautifully photographed, acted and written (the three source stories are skillfully blended into a single narrative), this leisurely, bittersweet look at a child's loss of innocence ends rather abruptly and inconclusively.

The film's elliptical character development sometimes renders the actors' work opaque; restraint is an underpracticed virtue, but even it can be taken to excess.

A moving, gorgeously filmed look at one of the Civil War's more obscure chapters, the quasi-official combat that divided friends along the Missouri-Kansas border.

Solid and engrossing melodrama.

This thin, clichéd comedy of crime and social climbing contains some scattered laughs and whole lot of padding.

Essentially a compendium of unrelated shorts, the delightful Melody Time incorporates visual styles as varied as the subjects of its segments.

Also unforgettable is Steiger's towering performance as the volatile survivor, a powder keg of hateful remembrances.

High Plains Drifter is a morality tale carved out of the harsh Western desert and directed with a panache that synthesized the styles of Sergio Leone and Don Siegel, two directors who had worked with Eastwood frequently. The result is one of the best Westerns of the 1970s.

To make up for the lack of real story here, director Sydney Pollack shoots endless travelogue footage in soft light and pleasing colors. The movie is not drama and far from a compelling romance.

This movie marked a virtuoso return for Dreyfuss, who is captivating in his role.

Presley's one really good musical, mainly because it features a female costar, Ann-Margret, who can match the coiffed one in the charisma stakes.

It's a spectacular adventure story with romance, because while they fight with wild animals and cannibals, they fall in love.

Ultimately, however, the look, sound and feel of this macabre comedy fail to support any coherent theme...Much is denigrated, but little affirmed.

Uncomfortable hodgepodge of poignant fantasy, showbiz satire and crime thriller.

When she's not babbling about the weird symbological system that rules her personal cosmos Imelda is an entertaining storyteller, vividly describing a life that became a national embarrassment and a camp legend.

Gary Cooper enacts the title role with quiet magnificence in this superb adventure tale loaded with drama, action, and mystery.

Twenty-five years on, hardcore continues to be the soundtrack of choice for extreme, white-supremacist groups hoping to tap into teenage rage. With no one on hand to counter the argument, this may go down as hardcore's lasting legacy.

It's a fascinating, infuriating story, and despite the fact that Greenstreet occasionally wanders off subject it's a brave and highly commendable effort that's chock-full of chilling moments.

The comedy is strictly from the hit-or-miss school, but director Hiller keeps things moving so fast there isn't time to ponder over the failed bits.

The laughs are low -- very low -- and the comedy often flags. But two elaborate sequences involving a bad-tempered little ankle-biter are standouts.

A painfully slow psychological thriller.

Kor's intentions are beyond reproach, but her campaign raises discomfiting questions.

Harryhausen is at his most creative and brilliant (except for the disappointing bronze Titan), the film is well directed by Don Chaffey and adequately acted as these things go. Featuring gorgeous Mediterranean photography and a rousing Bernard Herrmann score, making this a great film for kids that will also please adult viewers. A must-see.

There's a certain built-in poignance to the end-of-an-era proceedings here, regardless of how frostily they're dramatized.

(Fugate's) portrait of Valentine/Baker is rich and compelling.

There are moments of wonderful insight, but while the booming, fully animated adventures of the Atomic Trinity (by "Spawn" creator Todd McFarlane) that Care intercuts with the live action at first seem a good idea, they ultimately upset the film's carefully established mood.

The narrative is highly episodic and only intermittently engaging, but Gilliam's wildly inventive mise en scene, ably assisted by production designer Dante Ferretti, is extraordinary.

A cautiously optimistic epic, deeply rooted in American history. Bolstered by Surtees's magnificent cinematography, Fielding's fine score and an excellent supporting cast highlighted by the scene-stealing dry wit of Chief Dan George, Josey Wales affirms life and community with bracing conviction.

As always, Lean's handling of the purely physical aspects of the material is spectacular, with the scenes of revolution, the harsh Russian winters, and Zhivago's trek across the steppes simply unforgettable.

Edwards' direction is effective, although he relies too heavily on overhead and boom shots to show his action scenes.

Incoherent horror film about a woman, Hill, searching for her father, a surrealist painter in a small California coastal town that has become overrun with flesh-eating zombies. Katz and Huyck, who enjoyed great success as the writers of George Lucas' AMERICAN GRAFFITI, stooped to ripping off George Romero's low-budget masterpiece NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD.

Powell can't give his shallow role much depth beyond a consideration of Ziegfeld's incredible ambition and ego, but he does give it energy and rascally charm.

A huge improvement over the original, Gremlins 2: The New Batch is surprisingly sympathetic towards the title menace, and surprisingly thought-provoking as extended commentary on modern life and morality.

Although the film contains a subtle antiwar message, it's not necessary to look for any rhyme or reason in the script; just enjoy all the derring-do.

While both the novel and the film are weighted in favor of Bill's (Cruise) character, it's Kidman who gives the film's standout performance.

The most innovative, intelligent, and visually sumptuous horror film of recent years.

The result is a rather conventional, Biography Channel-style portrait of a man who helped change the face of theater in the last quarter of the 20th century.

And if the film's 11th-hour CGI effects aren't entirely convincing, the notion that oil itself is haunted by the restless spirit of every once-living thing that time reduced and mingled into the earth's black blood throws off a primordial chill.

There's terrific chemistry between Perez and Auteuil.

Like "Lone Star," this group portrait mourns a rapidly vanishing American landscape while acknowledging that the past, free of corporate homogeneity though it may have been, is never the unspoiled paradise it appears in retrospect.

Whatever the complicated truth about PTL, Tammy Faye's homespun charisma is undeniable; if only the Lord would give her the strength to say, "Get thee behind me, false eyelashes!"

Often clever but fundamentally shallow, this shaggy-dog story is greatly enriched by its extraordinary bluegrass soundtrack, supervised by T Bone Burnett and performed by a phenomenal collection of artists.

Rarely has mental illness been depicted so subjectively and seemed so immediate: John's daily struggle to determine what's real and what isn't becomes as palpable as it is poignant. It's also a touching testament to the love and dedication of John's family.

The film is at heart a look at a unique slice of Americana, particularly an opening montage in which we realize that football here is a cradle-to-the-grave proposition -- literally.

Another of Cassavetes' puzzling, personal, neurotic, and often brilliant productions that would have benefited from editing with a scythe.

Hilarious spoof of the classic Universal horror films of the 1930s and early 40s, with Abbott and Costello playing railway porters who unwittingly deliver the "undead" bodies of Frankenstein's monster (Glenn Strange) and Dracula (Bela Lugosi) to a wax museum, where the bodies are revived.

Everything a disaster movie should be, a combination of soap opera and the spectacle of destruction.

Danny Boyle's effective psychological thriller.

A surprisingly tight, clever, twisty heist tale.

Actress Jane Horrocks is so good in this drama that you'll hardly notice -- or care -- that the rest of the film isn't quite up to snuff.

In different hands and different lands, the same story could easily have been a pretentious bit of "Red Shoe Diaries" piffle. But exceptional performances and the oh-so-Frenchness of the complications instead produce an erotic tale that plays like the best gossipy story you ever heard about people you thought you knew.

Cheadle and Ejiofor are riveting together; they have the kind of apparently effortless chemistry that makes every scene they share a delight. With a dynamite soundtrack under their feet, the two of them rock the house.

The highly polished production is well paced and imaginatively directed, although the happy union of prince and pauper is harder to swallow in 1981 than it would have been in 1931, when cinematic escapism brought relief to depression-era audiences.

Young Man With A Horn suffers from excessive melodrama, but boasts several fine performances and plenty of enjoyable jazz.

Without slavishly imitating the photographer's distinctive style, Almereyda also manages to connect his own images to all that's "Egglestonian" in the photographer's world.

Amazingly, many of Jack's and Ina's letters survived and -- read aloud by Dutch actors Jeroen Krabbe and Ellen Ten Damme -- serve as the thematic thread that runs through Ohayon's film.

Dialogue is kept to a bare minimum, but the film's complex underlying sound mix -- a subtle symphony of faintly heard voices and the muted sounds of cars -- adds a haunting texture to what could have been the slightest of stories about a woman's ephemeral victory over emotional numbness.

Both Robertson and Keuck are frighteningly good, and director Coccio imagines their home movies so effectively that his film comes dangerously close to being a how-to manual for aspiring classroom spree killers.

Even if you're feeling a little numbed by the spate of films dealing with 9/11, make an exception for this important documentary.