As overstuffed as a twice-baked potato.

The Man with Two Brains, which never ceases to amuse, is at its best when most outrageous.

A huge, sprawling western with just about everything: brilliant photography, superb music, an intelligent script, and excellent performances, including one from Heston that is one of the best of his career.

Despite its preachiness, we all know New Jack City is making the right statement on drugs, racism, the system, etc. But the fact is it's not very good.

The title truly lives up to the character.

The picture comes to life only when Sellers is onscreen, and the rest of the time it's just vamping.

The implausible plot is intriguing, with some good performances by the cast that make it work. The pace is fine, with some genuine moments of suspense that work well within the story's framework.

Great cast plays the whole thing with tongue in cheek.

DON'T BOTHER TO KNOCK is directed with a quick pace by Baker, the Taradash script is as tight as a sardine can, and all the principals do well with their roles, especially lovely Marilyn Monroe.

The crime story here is lazily constructed, mostly an excuse for the give-and-take between Tucker and Chan, which is shrill and raucous without being especially clever.

Hill has gotten Schwarzenegger to give one of the best performances of his career, and Belushi too is thoroughly convincing as an action hero. RED HEAT is a welcome break from the shallow shoot-'em-ups that became the standard in the 1980s.

The plot is much the same as in the Ernst Lubitsch original, with everything played for laughs and Brooks at his funniest in impersonations of Nazis. What's missing is the relevance of the 1942 film, released while Germany occupied Poland.

For all its impeccable indie credibility, writer-director Zoe Cassavetes' bittersweet romance is little more than a hipster chick flick in which the same old smart women make the usual foolish choices.

A flawed though compelling eye-opener.

The aroma of hagiography is unavoidable.

There's a telling disjunction between the dismal lives of Jia's characters and the optimism of China's officially sunny advance into the 21st century, and their helplessness often becomes a pathetic pantomime.

While the film may drop a few of the novel's more disturbing moments, it still travels some emotionally rocky territory, and each of those actresses -- particularly Alison Lohman, who carries most of the movie on her young shoulders -- turns in a first-rate performance.

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.

For many, the soundtrack to this beautifully shot film will probably mark their first encounter with Traore and the intoxicating sounds of his unique brand of Malian blues. Chances are it won't be their last.

Bruce Surtees' dark, moody cinematography is typically masterful, but its translation to video leaves some scenes a bit murky.

The swooping helicopter shots, the POV camerawork from the front seat of a 800 hp trophy-truck and the propulsive soundtrack will have your heart racing towards the finishing line along with the drivers.

The acting here is first-rate, with Madsen turning in a forceful performance as the confused but resilient heroine. And special mention must be made of Philip Glass's superlative score, which combines synthesizers, piano, and chorus to haunting effect.

Aside from a few moments of comedy between Davis and Chase (in a relationship lifted almost unaltered from THE FRONT PAGE), HERO is an embarrassment best forgotten by everyone involved.

A gripping, old-fashioned WWII spy thriller.

Paul Newman gives one of his best comic performances in Robert Altman's underrated BUFFALO BILL AND THE INDIANS, OR SITTING BULL'S HISTORY LESSON, an irreverent western satire that portrays American history as pure showbiz sham and "nothing more than disrespect for the dead," as Sitting Bull claims.

Director Paul Schrader's dreamlike, stylishly atmospheric remake of Val Lewton's 1942 horror classic needs to be taken on its own terms: viewers who assent to its Freudian logic and creepy sexuality will likely be entranced, but just a little critical distance renders the whole thing irretrievably ludicrous.

Though shamelessly manipulative, it is undeniably effective. It offers some genuine moments of warmth, humor and excitement. Of course it all leads up to a big tournament where Fair Play has a showdown with Dirty Tricks. Guess who wins. This is the kind of movie where you find yourself cheering even though you know you're being hoodwinked.

First and foremost a celebration of Cuban dance and music.

In the final analysis, the film doesn't amount to much, except to provide a good opportunity for the fine ensemble cast to show off their talents.

Bright cunningly translates the story of Little Red Riding Hood into the trashy vernacular of tabloid TV and reality-based cop shows.

Based on one of the best of Ian Fleming's Bond novels, On Her Majesty's Secret Service benefited from an extremely well-written script that finally revealed a bit more of Bond's character. Lazenby, however, had no previous acting experience, and his lackadaisical performance limits the whole production, yet it still manages to remain one of the more entertaining Bond films.

What does work in Coming Home are the small, human, unguarded moments. The performances, undeniably appealing, were deservedly praised, Dern and Voight coming off best.

The film's most memorable character is the perpetually stoned surfer played by Sean Penn. His confrontations with Mr. Hand (Walston), a draconian history teacher, provide the film's finest moments.

The filmmaker's command of storytelling is less than assured, and with the exception of Figueroa and Annette Murphy (who plays Pepe's mistress Letti), the film's performances range from awkwardly wooden to amateurishly awful. While Arteta is definitely a filmmaker to watch, this particular movie is a testament to aspirations that considerably exceed his present abilities.

A charming, technically sensational version of E.B. White's children's classic.

This film's splendid visuals suit the subject, Spain's greatest painter, but its stilted dramatics are wholly at odds with Francisco de Goya's tumultuous life and times.

Handsomely photographed and acted...defiantly old-fashioned testament to the power of love.

Be sure to stay for the coda, a damning piece of newsreel that casts much of what went before in a whole new light.

Though occasionally enlivened by fanciful sequences suggesting the surreal power of Kahlo's vivid inner life, it's often mired in the mechanical accretion of incidents that blights most biographical films.

The entire cast is extraordinarily good -- many of them are, after all, actors by trade -- but throughout, Zhang is keen to remind his audience that this is only a dramatization.

A moody, beautifully acted character piece.

You just know that any film that opens with Nietzsche's aphorism about hope being an evil that only prolongs the torments of man isn't going to a comedy.

This good-natured genre piece gets the job done while sneaking in a couple of pointed observations about contemporary Latino immigrant life.

This time Stallone both wrote and directed the film, and though his handling of the actors and camera is less assured than John Avildsen's in Rocky, he keeps things moving at a good pace and delivers another charming performance himself.

Decent songs, an amusing script and some surprisingly imaginative animation.

There's practically nothing wrong with PROJECT X. Broderick is superb as always and proves that he is a commanding screen presence even in the company of a cute chimp. Hunt also turns in a fine performance. Surprisingly, even the film's bad guy (Bill Sadler) has some redeeming qualities, preventing the script from becoming patently simpleminded.

Turturro's sweaty, lumpen Cain is a profoundly disagreeable guide down the rabbit hole of hallucinatory paranoia.

This kind of movie quickly falls apart if the actors overplay the inherent sadness of the situation, and thankfully the stellar cast never makes that mistake.

Its appeal lies in the powerhouse performances delivered by Dench and Smith.

The movie suffers from a serious case of unoriginality.

Director James Bridges fails to instill much life into a narrative peopled with vapid characters.

A compelling but oddly empty film.

The story and pacing of this offbeat comedy wear thin after the first 20 minutes.

Heartfelt and often very funny.

While the slapstick comedy antics are frequently amusing and, on rare occasions, even hilarious, HOT SHOTS!, like so many other cinematic parodies before it, tends to lose sight--or control--of the plot, such as it is, in favor of more jokes, more visual gags and more dialogue puns--all hurled at the audience at a rapid-fire pace.

Like the first ADDAMS FAMILY, this continuation of the macabre clan's misadventures is really just a string of sight gags and one-liners. The good news is that the one-liners are much funnier than the first time, mainly thanks to the increased input of screenwriter Paul Rudnick.

The film's greatest asset is its performances.

The lead girls are easy on the eyes, and comic Faizon Love, who plays one of Matt's non-surfing, sumo-wrestler-size teammates, nearly steals the show when the girls teach him a few of their better moves.

Wang's film offers an interesting look at the rapidly changing face of Beijing.

Populated by a great ensemble cast and oozing a grubby sort of charm.

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.

This otherwise sober film's high ick factor is clearly designed to convince restless students that entomology is extremely cool.

Sad, leisurely road picture.

The story is less a sustained narrative than a series of scenes. But personal dynamics are the main event, and McDormand's powerhouse performance alone compensates for many minor deficiencies.

Slight but affecting.

Filmed in Vancouver (which looks like nobody's idea of the Bronx), the film is a throwback to the hoary chop-socky conventions that gave Hong Kong cinema its shabby reputation.

The high point of the picture is the antics of Merlin; at one point he's hilariously funny in his absentmindedness, and the next he shows his cunning.

Anyone with even a modicum of history awareness knows that Churchill was never kidnaped--which destroys much of the film's suspense. Director Sturges, however, is an excellent craftsman and, with the help of a very good cast, manages to make the proceedings entertaining.

In the end, despite Williams' extraordinary, nearly wordless performance, it's impossible to fathom what this young woman is experiencing at her moment of crisis, because we never knew what could have brought her to such a desperate pass in the first place.

if son Nick's adaptation isn't in the same league with Faces or A Woman Under the Influence, he also can't be accused of dropping the ball: He's just not experienced enough to overcome the structural weaknesses of a sporadically brilliant piece of writing.

Angel Heart is a convoluted combination of film noir and horror that, although expertly filmed by director Alan Parker, seems more an exercise in flashy visuals than mature cinematic storytelling.

Loosely based on the true-life exploits of French spy Philippe de Vosjoli and the 1962 "Sapphire" scandals in which top French officials were uncovered as Soviet agents, the film has a sense of authenticity but fails to fire up as much suspense as most of Hitchcock's intrigues.

Though the raw material is juicy stuff, the details and the larger picture never come together and the cast is uneven.

This was a small, low-budget picture that went straight for the heart and succeeded critically as well as financially.

Its opponents, Arab and Israeli alike, the "wall" is a dispiriting symbol of apartheid and defeat.

Nancy Sinatra sings the wistful title song, and the action scenes are enhanced by some of composer John Barry's best work for the Bond series.

Until the disappointingly conventional ending, in which dad and the head baddie go it mano a mano on the streets, this dark drama -- based on a 1956 Glenn Ford picture of the same name -- negotiates its narrative twists and turns with professional aplomb, even daring to make the hero an arrogant schmuck.

UNDER CAPRICORN is talky and static, with little of Hitchcock's trademark suspense.

Shot in neorealist black-and-white, it opens like a gritty slice of social drama, then takes a sharp turn into bleak, existential horror.

It does consistently remain both totally nuts and totally hilarious.

The film is filled with a languid air of decadence and decay, and a touching sympathy for people whose lives are crushed in the shadows of progress.

The result is fearlessly divisive and will no doubt play according to viewers' preexisting perceptions.

In real life the opportunity to make amends is rare, though the attempt may produce great art. In The Kite Runner, we get neither.

The remake is infinitely more entertaining if you haven't seen "Nine Queens" -- the details are different, but the surprises are the same and something of the first film's underlying darkness has been lost in translation.

Modest, on-the-money performances, which look effortless because they're so meticulously thought out, make the hours fly by.

Neither trite nor pandering, and that's what makes the film better than most of its peers.

Harsh, funny, grim, and, like all Bob Fosse's films, primarily concerned with the intersection of life and showbiz.

Inferior retread.

This didactic drama is set safely in the past and says nothing about the culture of conformity at all costs that hasn't been said before.

Eastwood has a deep love and understanding for the genre, and it shows in every frame of PALE RIDER. The supernatural elements of the story are incidental and handled in a restrained, subtle manner that does not distract from the story but enhances it, bringing another dimension to the oft-told tale. Eastwood the director has delivered a thought-provoking, well-crafted western.

The dialogue is minimal but sharp, the pace swift and the action sequences suitably loud and brutal.

For all the blood spilt -- and there are gallons of it -- this is a surprisingly understated thriller.

Animator Bill Plympton's seventh feature is a must-see for fans of his often witty, always scabrous, hand-drawn work.

Cocaine Angel may be a fine counterpoint to glammy cocaine-scare films like "Less Than Zero" (1987) and "Blow" (2001), but it comes on so strong it risks being dismissed along with the "this is your brain on drugs" school of dope-scare PSAs.

Though produced by the same people responsible for the classic King Kong, Mighty Joe Young is a pale imitation.

While far from the worst adaptation of Poe's work (there are so many candidates for that dubious honor it's hard to know where to start), Two Evil Eyes breaks no new ground.

While much of Godzilla, King of the Monsters is second-rate, there's no doubt that you're watching a star being born.

Overall, rookie director Ross stumbles over the material, neither destroying nor enhancing the talents of O'Toole, Clark, and company.