Even though Kinnear is meant to be obvious love interest, it's the relationship between Kate and Angie that becomes the film's central story, making this comedy sweeter -- and more honest in its depiction of class difference -- than one might otherwise expect.

Jackman and McGregor are a delight to watch.

If only the wit weren't overwhelmed by lame jokes about body parts, functions and fluids.

No matter how slick and questionably appropriate Morris's style may be, the content is compelling.

This is Hunt's show, and she delivers a strong performance that captures all the seriousness and absurdity of the avalanche of circumstances that comes crashing down on April's head. To say she's only half the director she is an actress is actually paying her quite a complement.

Intelligent but incomplete-feeling documentary.

May be the best film to date about the humanitarian and environmental impact of China's enormous Three Gorges Dam project.

Dryly funny, deceptively simple road movie that quietly reveals the state of contemporary Romanian life.

A preposterous misfire.

The unfortunate fact is that it's more than a little dull when it isn't preposterous.

Horse lovers and racing enthusiasts are this likable film's obvious audience, but you don't have to care about the Derby to get caught up in the stories of the people and the horses behind the two minutes of glory.

To see the two of them on screen together, even past their primes, is a delight.

This thin premise is better suited to a half-hour sitcom than a feature film (in fact, there's an episode of Frasier with a very similar setup).

It's sad to see such subtle, wrenchingly emotional work expended on such trifling material.

It takes a certain genius to make butchered corpses, sociopathic lunacy and meth-fueled debauchery nerve-scrapingly dull, and German director Marc Schoelermann and screenwriters Mark Neveldine and Brian Taylor (Crank) possess it.

Could as easily be called "Spurlock: Cultural Learnings Of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation Of America."

On its own low-bar terms, it delivers the goods: pole-dancing, gut-chomping and Jenna J.

It's hard to pinpoint what's most insulting about this obvious propaganda piece.

Hypnotic, culturally pertinent drama.

Formulaic to the core, this reworking of the fondly remembered high-school slasher picture works surprisingly well on its own terms.

A sharp, superbly acted character-driven comedic drama.

There are two kinds of police officers in David Ayers and James Ellroy's convoluted, ultraviolent tale of corruption within the LAPD: dirty cops and dirtier ones.

McCarthy's flawless casting may be the film's greatest strength: Veteran character actor Jenkins and his costars vanish into their characters -- their performances are so subtle and unforced that they don't feel like performances at all.

Atonal romantic comedy.

What it lacks in objectivity, it makes up for in vivid intimacy.

Phil Donahue and Ellen Spiro's powerful documentary takes a microcosmic look at the war and its devastation by focusing on a single casualty.

Not surprisingly, we're left with characters that feel only half sketched and fail to resonate on their own -- but onto which much can be read by Hou's most ardent fans -- in a poetic looking film that's ultimately as inflated and empty as the balloon itself.

Not for all tastes, but produces haunting juxtapositions.

A screwball comedy without a charismatic, smart-talking dame is no screwball comedy at all.

Despite its flaws, the film has the same dreamy, romantic melancholy that distinguishes Wong's best films.

Some nice scenery, an unexpectedly funny performance by Jodie Foster and a unflaggingly spunky Abigail Breslin make for above average family entertainment.

Smith has changed a few plot points around to keep readers who already know the secret of the ruins guessing, and to some extent the strategy works. There was, however, no reason whatsoever to change the book's perfect endings.

It's all a pretentious bore that feels twice as long as it's two-hour running time.

Scorsese's canny use of archival footage makes it more than a mere concert film.

This small, sweet drama from Chinese director Wang Quang An is picturesque, romantic and unexpectedly droll tale of life in one the world's most remote regions.

Though the material is familiar, Sciamma has a light touch and avoids many teen-movie cliches.

Polished but oddly lifeless heist thriller.

The film's bright spot is Irish comedian Dylan Moran, who plays Libby's charmingly dissolute cousin and who also happens to be Dennis' best friend. He's fresh, unpredictable and genuinely funny -- everything the film isn't.

A predictable moral tale enacted by blandly pretty young things who bear little resemblance to the average brainiac.

How engaging you find this loosely structured road movie will depend on how charming you find the over-aged slackers played by Josh Alexander, who also wrote the screenplay, and Robert Bogue.

The film's 85 minutes drag by painfully slowly, because there's no respite from Chapman's tedious, self-pitying reveries.

Happily, many of the figures spoken about throughout the film are still with us -- Neville is even able to reproduce Patricia Foure's famous group photo with most of its original subjects.

The face may be vaguely familiar, and if the name "Mimi Weddell" doesn't ring a bell it will after you've seen Jyll Johnstone's affectionate documentary portrait of this unstoppable nonagenarian model and actress.

There's a hilarious performance of a "de-fascisized" version of Beethoven's "Ode to Joy," and the soundtrack prominently features an Italian version of the crypto-fascist girl-group classic "I Will Follow Him," a joke Kenneth Anger first made in "Scorpio Rising" that's still funny today.

The lovely Audrey Tautou and sad-eyed Gad Elmaleh are perfectly cast as a gold digger and the poor sap who loves her, but the real star of Pierre Salvadori's larky, Lubitsch-esque farce is France's impossibly chic Cote d'Azure.

It's a richly textured, psychologically acute film that takes an unblinking look at the tattered life of the returning soldier, and it's boosted by two powerful performances from Phillippe and the increasingly impressive Tatum, a former underwear model who has somehow turned into a fine actor.

This abysmal "Spider-Man" satire has more in common with the lamentable spate of "Epic" and "Date Movies" than Zucker and Nielsen's truly funny "Naked Gun" series.

Never the most optimistic of poets, Sokurov does suggest the possibility of dialogue on the individual level, and the hope that by asking difficult questions of one another, these mortal enemies can find answers and reach an understanding everyone can live with.

The cast deliver consistently fine, subtle performances, underscored by Ben Nichols' mournfully melodic guitar score.

A disappointing hodgepodge of rehashed clichés.

Seriously flawed and not for every taste, the film was shot quickly and on the cheap, and is driven by Argento's slurred, scratchy voice and Bette Davis eyes.

Delivers plenty of sharply funny moments.

It's genuinely funny, oddly romantic and surprisingly engaging for what could easily have been an obnoxious vanity project.

The result is a bittersweet trifle one can conceivably fall in love with, and Honore's best film so far.

The crews are perfectly cast for maximum drama.

Markowitz 's low key coming of age/coming out story isn't particularly original, but features subtle performances and a vivid sense of place.

Surprisingly effective supernatural tale in which there's more to fear from the living than the dead.

Faithfull is marvelous: Once notorious for her own escapades, this great-great-niece of Leopold von Sacher-Masoch is no shrinking violet, but she's perfect as a plump, frumpy widow with a huge heart and a hidden talent no one would ever suspect.

It's an unexpectedly powerful little film that manages to say a lot of what, despite all the talk on the subject, isn't being said in the national debate on immigration.

Marshall delivers what he promises and Mitri makes for a cool, kick-arse heroine in the Ellen Ripley mold.

It's rendered in shiny, state-of-the-art CG animation, not the charming pen-and-ink drawings with which Seuss illustrated his own books or the hand-drawn artistry Chuck Jones brought to the 1970 Horton Hears a Who! short. But considering the messes that came before, that's a minor quibble.

Donnie Yen is famous for combining martial arts traditions into his own unique fighting style and Collin Chou, who studied with Sammo Hung, is up to the task of holding his own.

Formulaic and derivative, but sufficiently well made to work as both teen-angst melodrama and bone-rattling brawl picture.

Stanford's script is painfully obvious, right down to the line of dialogue spelling out the title's significance.

It was really no bigger than a beach ball, weighed about as much as a full-grown man and it beeped. And aside from transmitting a radio signal and accidentally opening a few automatic garage doors, it didn't really do anything except orbit the globe once every 96 minutes.

Negret brings personal experience to the material; his own family endured two ordeals by kidnapping, and he works up a painfull convincing sense of sweaty desperation.

Based on the book by syndicated columnist and savvy media watchdog Norman Solomon, who appears throughout as the main talking head, Earp and Alper's documentary shows just how the U.S. government coerces a nation into accepting the very idea of war, and it's a job it couldn't do without the full cooperation of the media.

A chilling corporate thriller with an intriguing mystery on the surface and a deeply troubling idea at its dark core.

The film is merciless in its depiction of death and suffering, Pitt and Corbet are perfectly cast, and Watts, who also served as executive producer, gives a disturbingly raw performance.

Twenty years ago, Li's film might have served as a warning; today, it rues a dehumanizing economic system run rampant that leaves one sad slave wife to muse, "It's easy to die. It's living that's hard."

A snapshot rather than a sustained look at Meat Loaf's tumultuous life and career, Klein's film is a revealing glimpse at the late career of a performer who looked a safe bet to die before he got old, then surprised everyone by hanging on long enough to find fans who weren't born when he started out.

Too dumb to take seriously, but just silly enough to be sort of fun.

A surprisingly tight, clever, twisty heist tale.

Lawrence runs through his usual repertory of mugging, seething and generally acting like a fool, only to be regularly upstaged by Arnold, Trey's pet piglet.

Looks and sounds great, and is at its best when it isn't trying too hard to have fun.

It's all confusing, woozy and slightly stoned, and feels very much like adolescence.

Green and his regular cinematographer Tim Orr have a feel for the sad, generic landscape of small-town America, but rather than adding to an overarching melancholy it only reinforces an already drab, at times bizarrely comic tone.

Raises important questions that resonate far beyond the subject at hand: What is the meaning of accomplishment, and how do you define triumph?

It's lighter, funnier and violent, and it's not entirely without hope, making this tale of survival under horrendous conditions far more suitable for younger, more impressionable audiences.

The film's resolution is both haunting and satisfying.

The prodigiously talented Allen, Bates and Lange give it their all, but there's a limit to what even they can do with platitudes and prefabricated homilies.

The defendants – especially Hoffman and Rubin – baited elderly Judge Julius J. Hoffman, who never failed to take the bait; Seale was so obstreperous that Hoffman had him gagged and bound to a chair, another indelible image.

It's a terrific showcase for battling Boleyn babes Scarlett Johansson and Natalie Portman.

A sweet, unassuming surprise.

The humor is mostly visual -- 70s relics like Pong, Shasta and men's platform shoes compete with the sight of Ferrell squeezed into tube socks and short shorts.

Dunn's elegant, full-length debut presents a frightening and powerful argument against the kind of reckless, profit-driven land development that not only threatens natural resources, but life itself.

Bahrani's willingness to expose the shameful reality of third-world conditions in the Land of Plenty while telling a crackling good story marks him as a filmmaker as important as he is accessible.

Jon Poll's harmless, occasionally entertaining debut feature.

It has a creepy power all its own.

So overwrought that it quickly crosses the line into unintentionally funny and never recovers.

The whole film has a rag-tag, purposefully shambolic feel -- but this communal commitment to a DIY aesthetic is also his undoing, particularly when he allows an irritatingly manic Jack Black to run wild and virtually hijack the movie.

Though extensively fictionalized -- Sorowitch is loosely based on the notorious, larger-than-life forger Salomon Smolianoff; Herzog on SS officer Bernhard Krueger, after whom the operation was named.

Rivette brings a refreshing realism to what could have been a stodgy costume drama, it's still pretty slow going.

At a certain point, its sheer can you top this excess, and credibility files out the window three's no reason to continue paying attention.

What divides opinion is the film's tone: Are those naive, portentous pronouncements about media, voyeurism and the numbing, pornographic allure of atrocity footage a sly reflection of the YouTube generation's boundary-free narcissism and callow youth, or evidence that Romero – never one to underplay a metaphor – has become a hectoring, tin-eared fogey?

Hamburger's earnest effort offers interesting perspectives on Jewish life in South America's most populous city as well as the fate of political dissidents during a particularly dark period of Brazil's recent past.

A lot fresher and bit more sophisticated than the ordinary run of maudlin chick flicks and crude gross-out sex farces that now pass for romantic comedies.

The film LOOKS great, but at a brisk 88 minutes, there's no time to fill in back story, from the epic history of paladin persecution to the deeply personal mystery of David's mother, and the cliffhanger ending is so abrupt that the movie seems bizarrely truncated.