Grisham's characters are rudimentary, and both Roberts and Washington are stiff and over-earnest.

Director Steven Spielberg has achieved something close to the impossible--a morally serious, aesthetically stunning historical epic that is nonetheless readily accessible to a mass audience.

The two stars have their comedy routine down to perfection, though Carvey, in a series of unflattering closeups, looks old enough to play Garth's father.

A hastily assembled follow-up to the surprise smash hit of summer 1992, SISTER ACT 2 is a slapdash affair, with paper-thin plotting and characters more or less redeemed by some winning musical sequences.

In the end, GERONIMO is a welcome contribution to a revitalized genre, filled with interesting representations of both the Apache and the pursuing army.

Witty, wordy, well-acted satire of contemporary class and race relations, based on John Guare's acclaimed stage play.

Though the film has its share of brisk one-liners and contrived situations played for their obvious comic potential, its appealing mix of sweetness and grit, and ultimate reliance on character to carry the material, make it a pleasant surprise.

Daniel is so hopelessly immature, and played with such puppy-dog overkill by Williams, that it's impossible to root for him--until you meet his wife, whom Sally Field makes even less appealing.

In a perfect world, screenwriters would be forbidden from using cute pre-teens to make up for creaky plots; Clint Eastwood would stop churning out his patented over-the-hill-but-still-tough routine; and there would be an injunction against Kevin Costner doing death scenes, especially ones as long and meandering as a cross-Texas road trip.

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.

With even less plot and cheaper production values than usual, this is comedy for catatonics that will bore even fans of past entries in the series.

Al Pacino gives an urgent, bravura performance as the title character.

The film's greatest incidental pleasures are its supporting players. From Curry, who plays the loathsome Richelieu with his usual gusto, to De Mornay, who clearly relishes her role as one of history's great femmes fatales, to the dryly menacing Wincott and the luminous Anwar and Delpy, there's always someone or something of interest to watch in this passably entertaining remake.

Though it offers a host of fine performances in a smoothly crafted, adult drama of unfulfilled love, it lacks the cumulative dramatic impact of the team's best work.

Though the story is tired, most of ROBOCOP 3's action sequences and special effects are imaginative and effective, and the gruesomeness of the first two films has been toned down in a commercially wise attempt to make it more accessible to the younger audiences who love Robocop.

It's often a pleasant diversion, and much more entertaining than LOOK WHO'S TALKING 2, which over-extended the talking baby tricks.

There are no grand Hollywood moments in Ruby in Paradise, a drama about one intelligent woman finding herself, just a series of quiet scenes and personal epiphanies that add up to a satisfying independent film.

Unrelenting and predictable, this pretentious collaboration between a music video director and the writer of "Revenge of the Nerds" covers all of the bases now required in a road movie thriller, to precious little dramatic effect.

Campion's eye is extraordinary. She searches out the detail that makes the image, and the image that tells the story more eloquently than words ever could.

The third entry in this uneven franchise is a straightforward, gruesome, and relatively successful exercise in disturbing frights.

The cast tries but the laughs simply aren't there, despite the filmmakers' apparent conviction that homages plus penis jokes equals wit.

The first American feature from Italian cult director Dario Argento, TRAUMA is not as flamboyant and extreme as his previous films but still manages to deliver the goods.

Burton seems to waver between rooting for the scary guys and the cuddly ones, and his indecision makes it hard for us to respond on an emotional level. The result, though refreshingly different from mainstream animated fare, is ultimately more trick than treat.

Without understanding his motives, it becomes easy to lose patience with a character so obsessively devoted to a single, largely meaningless goal. Ultimately, RUDY is an inconsequential, if moving, contribution to the sports-movie genre.

In this celebratory documentary, Agnes Varda, the wife of Jacques Demy, brings some of the players and extras together back in Rochefort for some reminiscences. In keeping with the thoroughly romantic nature of the musical, she also tells the story of how Les Demoiselles de Rochefort's extras found romance and had their lives changed by participating in its making.

If it works at all, THE BEVERLY HILLBILLIES functions as a curio for a tube-fed generation nostalgic for the good old days when TV was still a safe place to hide.

An exciting, although pointless, race through the dark and menacing streets of Chicago's West Side.

The pleasant surprise about Demolition Man is that both the script, and Stallone, are funny; the film blends big-budget action and tongue-in-cheek humor in the way that "last action hero" tried, and failed, to do.

In a year that saw everyone from Burt Reynolds to Michael J. Fox to Schwarzenegger himself handcuffed to six-year-old sidekicks in high-concept cartoons, one could do worse than to exploit the image of a professional wrestler forced to play mom. That said, Mr. Nanny is of little interest to any audience other than pre-teens of all ages.

The film pretends to be seriously concerned about the intersection of madness and identity, but never explores who these people really are. Instead of showing two people developing genuine intimacy through tenderness and slow, hard-won honesty, we see hysterical behavior generating hysterical responses. This is less psychodrama than Harlequin romance.

Tony Randel, confirming himself as one of the more talented directors on the '90s low-budget horror scene, orchestrates the buggy mayhem with a good deal of skill.

Quirky, sometimes brilliant, and mostly ice-cold.

Though carefully cast and set in the most exotic of locales, the drama lacks any real excitement, the director's glacial style aligning itself all too patly with Hwang's arid rhetoric.

Cool Runnings has a great premise: a movie based on the true story of the Jamaican bobsledders who amused the world at the 1988 Olympics. But this Disney film, a stale and out-of-date offering, is far less interesting than seeing the real athletes during the Olympic telecasts.

A tricky thriller, Malice begins well but betrays its coolly calculating premise and degenerates into a silly horror story.

At first glance, FOR LOVE OR MONEY looks like a holdover from the greed-filled 1980s, a last gasp glorification of Reagan/Bush era yuppiedom. The surprise is that it's actually an amusing, if occasionally formulaic, comedy.

As subversively clever as it is unsubtle.

Expertly captures the details and textures of the time without condescending or lapsing into cheap-shot parody.

Bopha!'s intentions are all good, but it preaches (and that is the operative word) to the converted.

The Good Son is a second-rate thriller with first-rate production values. On a lower budget and without the hottest child star in America in the cast, Ruben and McEwan might have made a meaner, tougher and more successful thriller.

THE PROGRAM was a surprisingly thoughtful entry in a season glutted with sports films. (RUDY; BLUE CHIPS; THE AIR UP THERE; ABOVE THE RIM; D2; and MAJOR LEAGUE 2.) The game sequences, in particular, are deftly choreographed and charged with a real sense of drama.

A Bronx Tale tries to cover too much ground; racial conflict, family drama, first love, the lure of the gangster life, and the joys and tribulation of coming of age in a kinder, gentler New York are all crammed into the slight story. It all feels too familiar to sustain the viewer's interest, but Palminteri's and De Niro's equally compelling performances help give it life.

Its loving exploration of the arcane workings of a closed society, that of wealthy, well-bred New Yorkers of the 1870s, has more in common than one might expect with Scorsese's earlier work, from "Mean Streets" through "Goodfellas."

This enchanting adventure story about a pair of poor Irish lads and their possibly magical horse is a vivid reminder that there is more to kid film culture than animated toys, chop-socky amphibians, and Macauley Culkin vehicles.

The plot of STRIKING DISTANCE is full of implausibilities, but they're entirely beside the point, since the film delivers what it promises: tough talk, chase scenes by land and by water, plenty of explosions, and pretty girls murdered in nasty and imaginative ways, served up with a dash of sex and a generous helping of knee-jerk cynicism.

Fortunately, the movie is so flat and boring that any children who might be tempted to ape its stunts will probably not sit still long enough to see them.

Household Saints succeeds in raising issues and religious ideas like few films before it, making it a movie that's more compelling to discuss and mull over afterward than to sit through.

Blends and recycles elements of scores of crime and road movies, from "Bonnie and Clyde" to "Badlands" but it does so with enough energy and verve to create something entirely fresh and infectiously entertaining.

The non-stop insouciance soon becomes more grating than charming, and is sustained by some remarkably flat dialogue. Adding to the film's troubles is the gratuitously "cute" use made of the baby--one scene exists purely so the audience can coo appreciatively as she takes her first steps. Ten minutes of this, and Nick and Nora Charles would have ducked home for a highball.

Pure melodrama, but stylishly done, with finely tuned performances played out against meticulously realized settings.

Lynch's fatal flaw is in her handling of the leads. Sands is made to play his single-minded romantic as a spineless, groveling wimp, while Helena is a one-note ice queen for more than half the movie, never reacting realistically to her predicament. The characters are so lacking in dimension and unsympathetic that it's hard to care about them or their story.

A technically accomplished but dramatically uneven futuristic action film.

As with many Stephen King adaptations, the problem no doubt partially lies in the necessity to condense the lengthy source novel, with material that might have given the story more depth lost in favor of packing in the horrific highlights

Each new installment has become like a visit with old friends who are often annoying and frequently boring, but are missed in some strange way when they're not around.

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.

Despite her underwritten character, Mathis easily takes top acting honors with equal parts toughness and tenderness.

The Man Without a Face marks a solidly crafted directorial debut for actor Mel Gibson, who approaches his melodramatic story with commendable restraint.

Though working on a Jean-Claude Van Damme vehicle can be seen as a comedown for Woo, he rises to the occasion to create an often rousing entertainment that is almost inarguably Van Damme's best film to date.

The film's nervous, gritty style is woefully out of sync with its broadly whimsical tone. Woody Allen is an acquired taste, and MANHATTAN MURDER MYSTERY is a movie for his steadfast fans only.

Though many characters are dispatched in various gory ways, the film gives them more to do than the have-sex-and-die victims of past entries. Director Adam Marcus and writers Dean Lorey and Jay Huguely give them some personality, and the acting is also generally better than in the previous Fridays.

Though it can get laborious, and produces the odd unintended chuckle, The Secret Garden is charming and sometimes chillingly authentic.

The film's spirit is one of unbridled bawdy slapstick, which misfires as often as it hits its targets, and its attitude towards women probably won't warm many hearts in the feminist community. In short, Penthouse readers will find what they're looking for in abundance wrapped in a typically bright, fast and furious Hong Kong package that is sometimes funny and occasionally even genuinely erotic.

Unfortunately, SINS OF DESIRE features a disproportionate amount of sex and not nearly enough thrills...If only the film's makers had realized the crime solving techniques and sexual exploration needn't be mutually exclusive. In SINS OF DESIRE, deducing always takes a back seat to seducing.

The results are mildly comical and occasionally poignant. HEART AND SOULS was Downey's first film after his Oscar-nominated performance in CHAPLIN, but he refrains, thankfully, from pulling a star turn. Instead, HEART AND SOULS remains largely an ensemble effort, with skilled performances by all five of the lead actors.

Though SEARCHING finally ties up its loose ends a little too neatly, what comes before that is a joy; an engrossing, witty story about far more than chess, directed with a flawless eye for detail and superbly performed by some of the best actors around--including young Mr. Pomeranc.

The action varies from a show-stopping train/bus wreck of Schwarzeneggerian proportions, to some more ironically staged pursuits which throw a welcome dash of "Tom and Jerry" into the mix.

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.

Although Myers is a brilliant comic, any potential he has as a romantic lead remains unfulfilled.

Although sporadically funny and not quite the disaster it was initially made out to be, this ROBIN HOOD robs gags from other films while giving the poor viewer far too few laughs.

Overall, this is a fuzzy, unfocused drama that bites off more than it can chew, or viewers can digest.

CONEHEADS represents a prime example of opportunistic commercial filmmaking, with plot and character sacrificed to an endless series of comic ideas that are never developed.

Amiably undemanding...Exhausted though the action-cop-buddy-comedy genre is, Another Stakeout manages to be fairly entertaining.

Shamelessly manipulative and heavyhanded, it may be an endurance test for those not absolutely entranced by large aquatic mammals.

Under direction that can only be described as scatterbrained by choreographer-turned-director Kenny Ortega (NEWSIES), HOCUS POCUS runs off in so many directions at once that it keeps tripping over itself behind a plot that doesn't make the slightest bit of sense.

The result is a finely tuned suspense thriller, though executives who have recently laid off trained killers may experience some discomfort.

Though Kiser makes the zombified Bernie equally funny, WEEKEND AT BERNIE'S II spends too little time with him, and too much getting bogged down by subplots: two mob pawns' bumbling attempts to steal Bernie's corpse; Hummel's tailing Larry and Richard through St. Thomas, only to be arrested time and time again; Larry's failed romance with an island native whose physician father is, conveniently, versed in black magic; and Richard's being poisoned by the voodoo queen.

Aimed squarely at little leaguers and their doting parents, Rookie of the Year is a modest fantasy that makes its comic fable appealing despite sporadic slapstick missteps.

SON-IN-LAW is like too much of Disney's profligate output, undemanding entertainment for undemanding people.

Branagh's use of trendy extended tracking and steadicam shots is sometimes distracting, but overall this is a jouyous romp whose forced jollity is only occasionally wearing.

This is a professional machine of a movie that compresses huge amounts of information into its two and a half hours of screen time. But it's so weighed down by detail, it fails to generate any real suspense.

Superbly acted, beautifully photographed, and resolutely warm and fuzzy, SLEEPLESS IN SEATTLE is a romantic treat.

Fishburne and Bassett are both extraordinary, and though the story is inevitably slanted to Tina's perspective, Fishburne makes Ike a complex and compelling presence.

This film doesn't know who its target audience is. Adults will find it plodding and predictable. Parents of small children should think twice about letting them see this film: the violence is cartoonish, but still brutal, and much of the dialog will be over their heads. Perhaps teenagers will enjoy it (perhaps they'll get some really neat ideas from it, too). John Hughes' vision of Dennis is much more menacing than Ketcham's fans and parents of small children might reasonably expect.

Hero claims to be a gentle, playful parody of the action/adventure genre, but comes off as a mercenary attempt to cash in on summer movie-going habits.

An exhilarating, sometimes terrifying monster of a movie that, once it gets you in its clutches, won't put you down again until the closing credits start to roll.

It's visually intoxicating, with its lavish ruffs and furbelows, stately homes and manicured gardens, jewels and silks and elaborately curled hair, but there's less to ORLANDO than meets the eye.

Cliffhanger offers us breathtaking mountain scenery, some occasionally gripping action sequences, and a lot of gags--mostly unintentional and mostly courtesy of Sylvester Stallone.

Though one wonders if Arau couldn't have found more visual parallels for Esquivel's narrative, overall the film is a witty, charming diversion that struck a chord with audiences.

Despite eye-catching sets and smart casting, this first feature-length film to be adapted from a video game is a bloated muddle.

Sankofa succeeds, on both a personal and a political level, because of the immediacy with which it conveys human suffering.

Uniformly predictable complications ensue.

It lacks the vision, and the fully defined characters, of "Boyz (in the Hood)." Tyrin never becomes more than the sum of his conflicting impulses--he's a composite sample of a social group rather than a fully-fledged individual.

Long sequences of Stone in risque sexual situations do little to counteract gratingly bad dialogue, identikit characters, and Phillip Noyce's by-the-numbers direction.

Yeah, but at the end, he gets into hand-to-hand combat with Saddam, and he kicks the guy's butt! I love that part.

Cult New Zealand director Vincent Ward (THE NAVIGATOR) pushes perhaps a little too hard for popularity with this oddly truncated, though engrossing, epic.

POSSE remains no more than a pleasant genre diversion with unrealized ambitions.

The funniest, savviest political comedy to come our way in some time.

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.