Too many musical montages break the momentum, but overall it's an engaging piece of work, regardless of which team you play for.

Concise and well-researched documentary does a fine job of presenting a complicated issue clearly while maintaining a fairly objective middle ground.

PARENTS concentrates heavily on Michael's Freudian pathology; however, in its emphasis on psychological themes, the film loses sight of its story and becomes a confused collection of isolated vignettes. In adopting the boy's single-minded perspective, it prevents its characters from developing, so that Quaid hovers and glowers, Hurt giggles and flirts, and Madorsky lurks in dark recesses without variation from beginning to end.

The film does nothing to demythologize the '60s; rather, it uses prevailing myths as a substitute for critical thinking.

This was the feature debut of director John Hancock (who would go on to BANG THE DRUM SLOWLY and WEEDS), and he does a fairly effective job of pulling good shocks out of this somewhat familiar material. The script doesn't help his cause: it's badly underdeveloped and contains some confusing inconsistencies.

While Costner the actor clearly imagines himself the Gary Cooper of the 21st century, he's got a crude sentimental streak that Costner the director fails to curtail.

Combined with the Mamet-lite dialogue, a medley of all-too-deliberate pauses, smug literary allusions and calculatedly careless repetitions of the word "thingie" that obscure the meaning hidden in supposedly meaningless prattle, the result is a chic, vitriolic polemic that's as irritating as it means to be provocative.

Very fast-paced, SPLIT SECOND is an example of the men-versus-monster genre, with a British setting providing a fresh twist.

The resulting collaboration is a strange beast;

A rare treat for anyone interested in the American folk revival of early 1960s.

Although inconsistent in tone, it is an emotionally wrenching account of life on the mean streets of Los Angeles.

Extravagant special effects notwithstanding, this is really a triumph of casting: The aplomb with which Jones plays wry straight man to Smith's street-smart wiseacre is terrifically enjoyable.

The result is sometimes strained, but often fresh and funny. And the sequence in which the entire cast sings "Avenues and Alleyways," bombastic '70s crooner Tony Christie's lush ode to thug life, is worth the price of admission in itself.

The plot may seem anything but fresh (and the borrowings from Woody Allen certainly are stale), but director Rob Reiner has a killer instinct for setting up jokes and punchlines.

Despite its leisurely pace, this unpretentious, character-driven picture is a low-key charmer.

It's all about the amazing look, cobbled together from an astonishingly evocative range of sources: "Nosferatu" and "Mad Love," "Brazil" and "Metropolis," a haunted mosaic of bits and pieces of movie memories.

Simple but deeply touching documentary.

Hackman's role requires him to spend so little time on screen that it's virtually an above-the-title cameo, and Grant trots out his trademark charming mannerisms, which look a bit fresher than usual by virtue of the darker than usual context. Be warned: Director Michael Apted does not resist the temptation to preach.

The soundtrack, which relies heavily on melancholy Sinatra standards like "The Good Life," "This Town" and "Summer Wind," casts perfectly modulated warning shadows over the film's light, bright look.

Breezy is a small, personal film that allowed Eastwood to work with talented actors and experiment with directorial style. If he had chosen a more intelligent script, he could have produced a minor classic.

Stripping away the false glamour generated by pop culture's undying fascination with the Mafia, this hour-long film tells the tragic but inspiring story of a 17-year-old Sicilian woman who risked — and ultimately lost — her life in order to reveal just what a nasty bunch they really are.

Walks such a fine line between what separates dreamer from stalker, that the film he made about it ellicits a variety of responses.

The action is confined to a single set and atmosphere is appropriately claustrophobic, but the image quality is harsh and flat. This accentuates the oppressive meanness of Vince's hotel room, but makes for some unpleasant viewing.

Delightful mix of swinging '60s style, road movie conventions and age-old romantic comedy tropes that coasts along on little more than charm, and does it delightfully.

Do director Bryan Singer and screenwriter Brandon Boyce really mean to suggest that the roots of genocide lie in homosexual desire?

Hitchcock tried mightily but didn't quite overcome the rambling, overlong script of this film--much of which was penned by producer Selznick, who sent the director scenes as he finished writing them, a practice Hitchcock hated.

Although a passable war film, Flying Leathernecks must be considered something of a disappointment for fans of Wayne, Ryan, and director Nick Ray.

The atmospheric opening is the best part--moody and full of sinister potential. After that, it's stilted drawing-room talk, variably acted, except for the cultish over-the-top dementia of Dwight Frye. Still, Dracula is the film that started the 1930s horror cycle, secured Universal's position as the horror studio, and made Hungarian actor Bela Lugosi a worldwide curiosity.

Rosette's film takes on a seriously Orwellian cast when the sellers mobilize to wage a civil war of words against the Big Brotherly NYC bureaucrats and academics trying to sweep them off the street.

This slight slice of L.A. life is distinguished by two fine, subtle performances. Redgrave is quietly heartbreaking-- Penn accomplishes the daunting task of revealing the spine beneath Melanie's sweet-natured tolerance of her perpetually disagreeable husband.

Melodramatic look at alienated California high school students.

Frankenheimer pretty much ignores everything that's happened in the action and thriller genres since 1975, and mostly that's a good thing.

Unfortunately, the film never really catches fire, despite uniformly high-caliber performances; Day-Lewis, surely one the finest actors of his generation, is excellent.

With its unpretentious moral tale of good and evil, CARE BEARS MOVIE II does a good job of meeting the needs and expectations of its target audience.

Nolan's intention was clearly to cast the material in a more conventional Hollywood mold without turning it into namby-pamby nonsense, and he succeeds admirably.

If Israel needs a Mike Leigh to capture the angst of its silently suffering working class, it could do far worse than Nir Bergman.

No matter how you spin Joe Berlinger and Bruce Sinofsky's chronicle of headbangers on the couch, it sounds like a pitch-perfect parody in "Beyond Spinal Tap" mode. If anything, knowing it's no joke makes it harder not to giggle.

A very tough movie, Brubaker is not for the squeamish. Director Stuart Rosenberg, whose spotty career includes credits ranging from Move to The Amityville Horror, moved into a higher strata with this one, but no matter who's directing him, one can't escape the feeling that Redford is the man behind the man behind the camera.

Without offering any hard and fast solutions to the essential mystery, this is a thought provoking drama about the nature of belief and devotion that never feels exclusionary.

It exudes a slightly stale air that does nothing to dispel gay stereotypes.

Easily one of the oddest romantic comedies since "My New Gun." It's also one of the most visually inventive, and if its charms very nearly defy description, it's nonetheless irresistible.

Spare, sleek and coolly entertaining, even if there's less to this game of true lies than meets the eye.

Ryan is raw and remarkably good, but the film's real star is New York. Draped in post-9/11 anxiety and brimming with a free-floating fear, the city hasn't appeared this threatening since the '70s.

Kurosawa's farewell film is full of sentiment, tears, toasts and songs.

Overall, the film feels a little stiff, perhaps because screenwriter Steven Peros adapted his own stage play. But the performances are a delight, especially Dunst's effervescent turn as Marion Davies.

It may be an old story, but Berri draws fresh poignancy from this December-May romance by identifying so empathetically with Jacques.

An animated parody of the disparity between Hollywood image and reality, this occasionally clever kiddie feature often rises above its straightforward plot.

This melodramatic action opera is a lurid love letter to the guns and poses aesthetic of Hong Kong action cinema.

The camerawork is crude and the editing seems almost accidental, but it's really all about the writing, which is strong throughout; Seaton has a sharp ear for convincingly conversational dialogue.

The film is filled with Miike's brand of imaginatively staged violence and hints of fetish sexuality, but his sadism, which reaches its apotheosis in 2001's sickening "Ichii The Killer", is tempered by a sincere romanticism and a number of lovely touches.

The film is really a timely critique of the ongoing insanity that has engulfed Israeli life.

Between Nahon's pressure-cooker performance and the director's assaultive style (he's fond of brooding long takes interrupted by shotgun blasts of lurching, skip-frame edits and bold intertitles), the film would be an unbearable expression of rage, except that Noé's winking, nearly absurd sense of humor offers a disconcerting reminder of the unreality of it all.

Allows the supporting cast to steal the movie.

The film is an intriguing and hugely theatrical experience whose effectiveness is greatly enhanced by gorgeous period costumes and set design.

Unlike the work of either Jean-Luc Godard or Richard Lester (both obvious influences on Coppola at this point in his career), YOU'RE A BIG BOY NOW fails to have much impact beyond its lightheartedness. It is as if Coppola were too concerned with creating a style to put much effort into the implications of his material.

Fans of the original may be disheartened by this glossier, action-packed version, but the brisker pacing and showy shoot-'em-up scenes are exactly what will appeal to the film's target audience.

Barratier has assembled an unforgettable gallery of faces both young and old, and prolific character actor Berleand plays the perfect villain.

Censorship, madness, social rebellion and the power of art.

It's tremendous fun, thanks largely to a smarter-than-average script and some fierce casting.

Unlike his models, however, Smith hasn't demonstrated that his sensibility reaches much beyond bathroom humor and meaningless drift.

The best of the sequels to Carpenter's seminal slasher movie...Directed with flair by Little, who does not blatantly ape Carpenter's style, the movie delivers a number of effective chills without relying too heavily on the kinds of tired tricks and bloody gore that have made this genre a boring cliche.

Foxx is the one standout in an otherwise overcrowded film.

Rodriguez's film is a high-octane fun-house ride with only one speed: sick-making.

Heartwarming is not always a bad thing.

The sequel-ready twist at the end is a letdown, but until then this is a neatly constructed nail-biter.

This is solid entertainment, and the time Caviezel and Pearce spent training for their sword fights pays off handsomely.

Sweeney's seduction by the good life and the friendship that develops between these two young men from opposite sides of the tracks and on opposite sides of the law has the makings of an intriguing story. However, director Peter Werner and scripter Dick Wolf treat their story conventionally, and there are few surprises. NO MAN'S LAND's saving grace are the performances by Sheen and Sweeney.

Bottoms is a Minnesota-bred law student who comes to Harvard and the lecture hall of Houseman, an instructor who seemingly takes great pleasure in puncturing his students' egos. Bottoms falls in love with Wagner. Essentially, this is a military school plot with a change of venue.

It's quite an achievement and makes a strong argument in favor of traditional animation — this is the first Disney feature since "Dumbo" (1941) to feature watercolor backgrounds, and they're beautiful. But beautiful illustrations and a funny premise can't save this well-meaning kid flick from its dully plotted story.

To his credit, writer-cinematographer-director Peter Hyams (RUNNING SCARED) doesn't pretend he's reinventing the wheel here--he just sees to it that all the pieces are in place and that there aren't too many opportunities for the premise to trip over its own implausibilities.

Bancroft and Mortensen take home the acting awards -- the pleasure they take in what they're doing really makes the film come alive.

Odd yet thoughtful romantic comedy.

Chances are you'll watch most of this documentary with both hands over your eyes, but as a window into a particular kind of insanity seizing kids in heartland America it's enthralling.

The plot is almost as old as Hollywood itself, yet the film's ironic, cynical tone gives the material a new spin under the direction of veteran Peter Yates. The script is savvy about the power structures both inside and outside the prison gates, and the fine cast makes the most of the well-crafted dialog and sharply drawn characters.

A sentimental look at love and middle-aged discontent thinly disguised as a comic adventure story.

Every character fated to die in Othello meets his or her maker by the time the curtain falls on Blake's adaptation, which means the manicured campus of Palmetto Grove is left littered with slain coeds.

Harsh and unsparing, Dumont's all-too-believable film charts with breath taking precision the distance between the unencumbered beauty of moving through space and the agony of inexorably falling to earth.

Insightful, Oscar-nominated documentary.

A lightness is maintained throughout, which leads one to believe the makers were not too concerned about taking their material seriously. The result is an unpretentious, sometimes funny, but not quite scary effort.

A handsomely mounted aviation adventure from the director, screenwriter and one of the stars of the hugely successful BUTCH CASSIDY AND THE SUNDANCE KID, this film deals with that colorful era of the early 1920s when barnstorming--performing aerial feats before rural crowds--was so popular.

It's a beautifully constructed, often disturbing look at a day in the life of several down-at-the-heels denizens of Recife.

Taylor, while perhaps a little small to become a real Vegas showboy, makes for a very charismatic hero, while Joaquin Baca-Asay's cinematography captures all the glitz and slightly tawdry glamour of the Vegas strip.

The film's dispassionate examination of the shifts in Susan and Daniel's relationship as they drift from irritation to barely suppressed panic is at least as nerve wracking.

Makoto's misadventures are specifically geared to the concerns and perspectives of teenagers, while avoiding the luridness of similarly themed films like THE BUTTERLFY EFFECT, and the resolution refreshingly bittersweet.

The genial humor is occasionally marred by an overall sexist tone and some downright nasty homophobic and racist attempts at humor.

Precociously glib and never less than engaging.

F. Scott Fitzgerald was wrong: there are second acts in American lives. But all too many of them are sad, sordid or both, as this fact-based story of sex, drugs and murder featuring adult-movie superstar John Holmes aptly demonstrates.

Cynics may scoff, but the spirit of Woodstock -- not the 1999 debacle, but the 1969 original -- lives.

Director Arthur, who struggled for eight years to get this film funded, claimed that her right to final cut was revoked by the producers and that they trashed her version and released what she describes as a more exploitative cut.

More mystery than comedy dominates this sometimes draggy production, whose script is less inspired than in previous THIN MAN efforts. The atmosphere and sets, along with stellar performances by the principals, can't offset a weak story.

It's actually quite interesting, albeit in a supremely self-conscious and artsy-fartsy way.

The pacing is suspenseful and acting is actually pretty good, even if accents are no one's strong suit.

This charming and funny film may be one of the last of a rare genre deservedly named after a person -- the Woody Allen movie.

The melancholy joke - if you can call it that - is that the pall of global mediocrity has erased national differences and turned women like Tamiko and Amanda into ghosts drifting through their own lives.

Slickly animated and cleverly written.

Martial arts spectacles don't come more spectacular than this, and Yuen bestows a quality of grace on the entire production.

Yes, the story is pure formula, though given less twinkle and lip gloss than Hollywood would have brought to bear on it; the film is so remake-friendly you can cast it in your head.

Lumet develops his story at a leisurely but effective pace, allowing the dynamics of a family in transition--not the sudden appearance of the FBI or an action-paced chase--to give the film its tension. Phoenix delivers a convincing, serious performance, and the rest of the cast, save for the miscast Hirsch, is also strong.