Say what you will about (Smith's) sense of humor, genuine faith is rare enough in popular culture to make any sighting worthy of note.

The wholly invented character of unattainable love interest Julia Cook (the real Kelly once referred to an enigmatic "Julia" in a letter) is the film's weakest link and smacks of a desperate attempt to shoehorn a pretty woman into a story about grubby men with tangled beards.

Written by Tom Holland, who would go on to write and direct FRIGHT NIGHT and CHILD'S PLAY, the script does a nice job of translating the awkwardness of adolescence into a horrifying event.

An acid-dipped valentine to the sometimes seedy magic of movies.

Its power lies in the intense, subtle performances of the ensemble cast and Bellott's ability to keep the tangled narrative threads from becoming a knotted mess.

Neo-Gothic fantasist Tim Burton and writer John August (Big Fish) play it strictly by the book for this darker but far more faithful adaptation of Roald Dahl's cautionary 1964 young-adult novel.

Khoury may be a few years too old to play a minor still squirming under her father's thumb, but her performance as a timid young woman who finds strength while looking for a husband is quite affecting.

A topical comedy that's about 25 years too late.

Simultaneously groundbreaking and remarkably faithful to the classic play.

This is first-rate comedy of discomfort, so don't sample it with a date unless you're looking for a very queasy evening.

The action sequences are so franticly dizzying that they make "Run Lola Run" look as though it unfolds in slow motion.

This psychological sci-fi thriller was originally made as a 40-minute segment of an unrealized portmanteau picture, then expanded into a freestanding feature. That's probably why it's padded with shots of Olham running down corridors.

Overall it's a frustratingly uneven movie, delicate at one moment and bluntly obvious the next.

The acting is similarly accomplished across the board, though it must be noted that Currie nearly walks off with the film: He's the funniest preppie seducer since Tim Matheson in "Animal House" (1978).

Since her claim to fame is having brought the first living panda -- a cub named Su Lin -- out of China, Harkness's success is a given, but the footage of pandas in their natural surroundings is enchanting.

A gallon of grade-A filmmaking fuel squandered on unoriginal material, but serious moviegoers will want to take a look.

A bit of whimsy.

The whole thing, script, acting, and especially Penn's heavy-handed direction, is bizarre. Yet there's a perverse joy in watching Brando and Nicholson try to compete with each other in mugging, switching accents, and mannerisms that could only be found elsewhere in institutions like the Bellevue Insane Asylum.

The voices of the architects, developers, public officials and contractors here discussing the specifics of particular sites, we're hearing the voices of a conflicted nation as it considers how to handle its tumultuous past while defining itself for future generations.

Sweet, likable and consistently engaging, if so insubstantial that it's always on the verge of blowing away.

Pekar's autobiographical chronicle of day-to-day banality is a rich, if dingy, tapestry of ordinary life in all its infinite, homely peculiarity, which filmmakers Sheri Springer Berman and Robert Pulcini bring to uniquely eccentric life.

This lively and nicely timed comedy has plenty enough, farce, slapstick and even drawing-room humor.

De Marken and Freeman preserve the group dynamic by dividing the screen into six parts, each mini-frame capturing actions and reactions from a different camera angle, and while the film drags in spots, the performances are unusually powerful.

The ensemble performances are perfectly meshed, and the Sprechers deserves special credit for bringing the desperate underside of Posey's brittle self-assurance to the surface.

MacKinnon's film draws on his past as a youth worker and features a standout performance from first-time performer Harry Eden.

The power of an otherwise carefully crafted film is undone by risky and not altogether successful casting.

This second installment is heavy on battle sequences, which will thrill some viewers more than others.

Beautifully shot and subtly rendered, but too slowly told for its ambiguities to really be effective.

His (Ross) sophisticated handling -- and the efforts of his able cast, notably the stellar Joan Allen -- produces a surprisingly accomplished cumulative effect.

Daring, ultimately heartbreaking.

This entertaining and erotic picture, while perhaps not the most challenging film to come out of Brazil in the 1970s, is nevertheless enjoyable. (Review of original release)

The plot is a bit busy but the performances are solid, even though Douglas seems to be doing a reprise of his role in OUT OF THE PAST (1947) as a cruel, unfeeling villain.

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

Eastwood keeps things moving at a furious pace and the series' formula of having a steely-eyed "dinosaur" like Harry cutting through the red tape and vanquishing the scum of the earth remains irresistible.

Ultimately the sci-fi fillips — human cloning, memory wipes, empathy viruses — are subordinate to screenwriter Frank Cottrell Boyce's doomed romance.

An early and sometimes funny effort by director Demme but the hilarity of the subplots (especially the bigamous Napier) swallows the main storyline.

Natali's film has a fabulous look, a nerve-wracking, claustrophobic mood, a number of genuinely suspenseful set-pieces and some sublimely stomach-churning special effects.

Flawed but undeniably provocative and brilliantly acted by Gosling.

The film's saddest contention is that five decades later American public schools remain economically segregated by economics, which too often produces classrooms whose complexions have changed little since the pre-Brown era.

A triumph of style over content. Like BLADE RUNNER, the film grafts a fiercely modernist feel onto characters and themes right out of a 1940s film noir--an impressive achievement that more than makes up for a ponderous storyline.

It's an extremely violent and brutal film, featuring a fine performance by Newman. He's a blunt, practical man who favors action over words. Cilento is appealing as the worldly landlady, and Boone is chilling as the sadistic bad man who is ready to murder anyone standing in his way.

The film is simultaneously sweet natured and sharply observed, and if love eventually conquers all, it takes its own sweet time doing it.

There are echoes of Stephen Spielberg's "Duel," as well as "Roadgames," "The Hitcher" and "The Hills Have Eyes," but director/cowriter Mostow isn't interested in hommages: He's just looking to crank up the suspense (not the in your face action, thank heavens), bit by miserable bit, and does a very nice job of it.

Writer-director Sayles has fashioned a convincing account of the scandal, underlaid with an unconventional (by Hollywood standards) workers-vs.-owners critique.

Delivers its commendable message with affecting eloquence.

Though by no means a great animated feature, JETSONS does offer unqualified family entertainment, and it even includes a socially responsive message. While the film is neither brilliant nor hilariously funny, it is frequently quite enjoyable, and fans of the Jetsons will not be disappointed.

Cunningham tackles a complicated subject, rejecting the stridency favored by filmmakers of the Spike Lee persuasion in favor of a more even-handed tone.

The script is shapeless and it all goes on far too long.

Zanuck and Dexter employ an elliptical narrative style, stringing together vaguely connected scenes that nervously cut away before their full, depressing implications can sink in. The result is a lack of any meaningful character development or narrative drive.

Tony Scott's thriller is flashy, but it's not dead stupid and it's never dull.

Sleek, stylish and crammed with girl-power action.

They've taken material with the power to insinuate itself directly into the realm of the imagination, and made it strangely inert and lifeless.

Burns is always a joy to watch!

Clearly designed to be a family entertainment, THE CUTTING EDGE has a by-the-numbers quality that's only partly concealed by smooth production values and consistent--if uninspiring--performances.

Writers Jon Connelly and David Loucka have fashioned a script that works largely because of the efforts of the four capable and credible actors who comprise The Dream Team: Christopher LLoyd, Stephen Furst, Peter Boyle, and Michael Keaton.

A breezy romantic comedy in which opposites attract against all the reasonable odds, this slight but thoroughly charming film benefits immeasurably from the assured performances of leads Juliette Binoche and Jean Reno.

Director Alan Rudolph, whose reputation rests on ensemble pieces, lets Scott's performance -- as skilled as his pyrotechnical turn in "Roger Dodger" (2002), but composed entirely of subtle notes -- anchor the film.

Inlike many directors with music video backgrounds, Tim Story keeps the flashy cutting to a minimum and lets the story unfold at its own unhurried pace.

Ice Cube is so genial and laid back it's hard to believe he's the same snarling thug who ass-kicks his way through action pictures, let alone the seethingly angry rapper who emerged from NWA in the early 1990s.

There are some marvelous sight gags, but the film goes over the top into mindless farce at times, destroying much of the Chaplinesque believability that Sellers had earlier engendered.

Neophytes may be baffled by the film's weirdly sentimental streak -- the vendetta that drives antiterrorist Van Damme and his nemesis (Rourke) is all about babies -- but by the time Rourke has mined the Colosseum (yes, the Colosseum) and sicced a Bengal tiger on Van Damme, the wise viewer is just sitting back and enjoying the show.

Though the violence in this film never becomes physical, the psychic wounds these people inflict on one another cut so deeply you wish it would. It's a grueling experience.

No aliens. No firefights in space. No robots. Just an eerily attractive, sleekly costumed cast in a stylish, cooly intelligent throwback to the Twilight Zone era of deeply serious science fiction.

Although PUNCHLINE occasionally falters--in its contrived contest ending and saccharine tendencies--it is still an engaging and honest achievement.

The film ends on an ambiguous note that will infuriate some viewers and strike others as the only possible finale to Don's sad absurdist journey.

The filmmakers don't shy away from discussing their frustrations with censorship or the depiction of women, but their work raises interesting questions about the ways in which restrictions can sometimes facilitate artistry and lead to a deeper consideration of the film's subject.

The plot is suitably slight, allowing plenty of room for the barrage of jokes that roll off Dangerfield's tongue. The result is unsophisticated, unilluminating, unambitious, and hilarious.

Whether this measured exercise in romantic melancholy moves you to tears or bores you to them is probably a matter of personal susceptibility to the sting of bitter regret for love lost.

The story's message is less than profound, but it's vividly delivered.

A mystery that's filled with genuine sorrow and capped off with a denouement that may take even seasoned mystery buffs by surprise.

What's amazing is how much first-time director Ganatra and cowriter Susan Carnival get right.

It's not a great film, but let's face it: Considering the source, this is as good as it was ever going to get.

The film is, in fact, an adaptation of Anton Chekov's "The Seagull." This provenance also explains why there's something slightly old-fashioned about the whole business.

The technology for twinning a single young actress is considerably more seamless than it was in 1961, and Lohan is a perky charmer.

It's a real shame that the first half hour is a disorganized ramble that risks driving away the film's audience; a little artful editing would have gone a long way to fixing the problem.

While some may object to the storytelling techniques employed by playwright and screenwriter Willy Russell to depict his title character, others will find themselves enchanted by Shirley Valentine.

Poignant documentary.

There's a caper and there are some laughs, but this isn't a larky caper flick; it's a pulpy little story that could at any minute go straight to hell.

It's too fundamentally light-hearted to wallow in grinding poverty and despair.

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.

This provocative, at times languid, documentary from German experimental filmmaker Gabriel Baur is something of travelogue through this unexplored frontier, a mixed-up, shook-up borderland where nothing, especially not an individual's gender, should be ever be taken for granted.

A slickly crafted fable, however dark, but it's shot with haunting poetry.

Dazzlingly colorful.

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

For all the technical wizardry that went into making the film, Paxton's reflections on the human tragedies of the Titanic and the terrorist attack of Sept. 11th, 2001, which took place while the crew was out at sea, provide one of the film's most haunting moments.

Davaa and Falorni's film does suggest that camels have inner lives as rich and complicated as the human beings with whom they live in such intimate proximity. But they're also wholly camels, matted, goopy-eyed, gritty with sand and quick to knee an adorable calf in the snout when its demands become annoying.

Rough-edged but affecting drama.

Louis Malle's somewhat overrated My Dinner With Andre is a filmed conversation between two friends, and whether you find the movie profound, pretentious, or entertaining will depend on how interesting you find the talk.

The brouhaha aside, this chronicle of SNAFUs foretold doesn't have much new to say but says it with biting precision, and Phoenix's sharp, sneakily sympathetic performance is a pleasure to watch.

The fifth picture of the Pink Panther series, this wasn't as good as most of the others. It's a bit too unfocused, and the scenes shift to locations all over the world, like a comic version of a James Bond movie, but a good cast led by Sellers, under Edwards' direction, still provides plenty of laughs.

The surprise is how utterly original his (Woodley's) gorgeously mounted curiosity seems.

While nothing to rival Hitchcock, the film's look and direction make it a worthwhile effort. Doris Day makes the switch from light comedy to suspense fairly well, creating a believable victim, while Harrison, his usual debonair self, adopts a sinister air.

(A) languorous, mud-spattered psychological tale.

Chock full of personality and irreverent detail.

While the deliberately amateurish, stilted acting seems at odds with the fruity dialogue, Maddin's intention is to subdue every aspect of his peculiar dreamscape; acting, decor, costuming, cinematography and sound recording remain equal components. No one element predominates or upsets the director's carefully controlled chaos.

This rambling exercise in local color has been a pet project of Duvall's for more than a decade, and it's to his credit that he managed to get such a low-concept picture produced. It's also to his credit that he resists the temptation to take easy potshots at religion, particularly of the revivalist variety.

It's all mindless, absurdly complex and hopelessly hip in that 1960s sort of way, but an agreeable way to pass the time with gorgeous Sophia.

Christopher Lee is excellent as the mute monster, but this is Cushing's film all the way.