Often hypnotic and perversely gripping, but falls apart during its final reel.

One promising note, however, was that the character of Freddy Krueger had recovered some of the evil edge he lost in previous installments.

It lacks the emotional impact and suspense of its predecessors and is spoiled by a disappointingly inane ending. What ultimately saves the film are its extraordinary sets and phenomenal Oscar-winning visual effects.

Beautifully edited by Soderbergh, the film is evenly paced, its subtleties accreting slowly, and by the end it gathers powerful emotional momentum.

With nothing in the way of performance to cling to, the audience is left to marvel at the mounting inanity of each scene.

While Parenthood crosses the border into schmaltz a number of times, the movie runs the gamut of realistic emotions, and one scene or another is bound to hit home with the parents who see the film.

Deliberately eschewing the fast pace, strenuous action, frenzied special effects and wall-to-wall songs of the standard Disney animated feature, the film allows the audience to get to know the character of Kiki and feel the emotional highs and lows she undergoes in the course of her year in training.

Five people were credited with co-writing TURNER & HOOCH, and rarely have so many labored to so little effect. There's barely enough to make up an agreeable made-for-TV movie in this film.

During all of this tediously staged action, the virginal female heroine, Rennie Wickham (Jensen Daggett), suffers hallucinations about the young Jason. Not surprisingly, these scenes — which feel as if they belong in another movie — are among the most effective in the film, a welcome distraction from the mundane mechanics of the rest of this predictable effort.

Based on Akiyuki Nosaka's semi-autobiographical novel, Takahata's alternately sweeping and intimate animated feature is a moving depiction of the fates of cast-off children who become casualties of war.

Yankovic fails to come up with anything new to freshen the stock storyline, and is content instead to let it serve as a creaky showcase for his forte, media parodies. But even the quality of these parodies is inconsistent, with the movie and music takeoffs being obvious and out of date.

Director Zelda Barron has a real affection for her characters, enabling them to retain a sweet dignity even under some excessive circumstances dictated by the unimaginative, slight script.

Hardcore Bond fans may be dismayed by some of the changes, but no one can deny that the action scenes staged by director John Glen are some of the most spectacular of the entire series and well worth the price of admission.

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.

Returning director Richard Donner seems to have smoothed over the few stylistic rough edges remaining from the earlier film to deliver here two hours of pure, breathless, high-impact entertainment.

Cutting Class does a nice job of concealing the killer's true identity, even as it leaves a trail of clues pointing to him. However, this sloppily directed, indifferently written black comedy fails to create sympathetic characters or even deliciously nasty ones.

It is a subtle and humane entertainment with a refreshingly serious view of the world.

It's difficult to figure just what is going on here, and most certainly not worth the effort.

More a sequel to the original than an extension of the action in Part II, The Karate Kid Part III is half-hearted and very dull.

Most of the cast of accomplished actors are wasted in these roles, although two do manage to stand out: Ryder as the innocent-savvy Myra and John Doe, in an underplayed performance, as her father. The musical sequences are entertaining and energetic.

Despite its interesting, grim tone and undeniably striking visuals from director Burton and production designer Furst, the film fails to synthesize its strengths into a compelling whole.

Nicely shot with a good youthful cast.

Ghostbusters II is such a lazy effort that the formula machinery is laid bare for all to see. It suffers from writing that is obvious, sloppy, and unimaginative.

But what truly distinguishes the movie is Cage's performance, which is so off the wall that even if you don't like it you have to watch in awe.

No Holds Barred is paced well, with broadly drawn good guys and bad guys. Somewhat problematic is the murky status of the wrestling fans in the film. The "goodness" of Hogan's character is so markedly contrasted with the grossness of the wrestling-bar patrons that the film actually appears to be criticizing its star's fans--who are, after all, also the film's audience.

Director Jack Sholder is a whiz at coordinating the traffic in the many catch-me-if-you-can-or-explode sequences, which provide a visceral thrill to appeal to the six year old in everyone, but which must be balanced against the lame story, offensive ethnic stereotypes, and perfunctory acting.

While the film does contain a handful of suspenseful sequences, it also suffers from poor pacing and an overall reliance on cliches.

Bad Taste was probably intended as camp, but its humor falls flat even as a parody of the horror genre. It is best viewed as a film strictly for movie makeup and special-effects aficionados.

The plot isn't much (some described it as an unsuccessful combination of Midnight Run and Betrayed), but Pink Cadillac is rich in character, containing some of the most heartfelt and engaging moments in an Eastwood film since his unjustly neglected Bronco Billy.

Despite strong acting (the slapstick energy between Ford and Connery is wasted), obligatory chases and stunts and splendid art direction, the virtuoso technique evident in every frame remains formulaic--unaccompanied by revelation, epiphany or surprise.

Director Rowdy Herrington lives up to his name: once he's seen to it that all the conventions of the western are in place, he presents an all-out brawl on the average of about every 12 minutes or so, and the battles quickly grow tiresome. Swayze is up to a part that requires him merely to show his muscles and dexterity, but Gazzara is trapped in his hopelessly evil caricature, leaving Sam Elliott (in a too-limited role) to provide the film's only real charm.

Full of cheap disability jokes, stupid car chases, and boring shootouts, and none of it is very entertaining. Wilder and Pryor struggle mightily to pull it off, but the comic duo are capable of much more than this gimmick-filled rubbish allows.

The darker hues of Amis's story, though frequently discernible beneath the gloss, are ultimately submerged beneath the usual set of artistic compromises.

Hoping to titillate, while keeping a PG rating, the film opts for tantalizing talk and a constant display of bra-busting females in stiletto heels. The acting here is respectable, but doesn't rise beyond the indifferent script and direction.

With its endless string of good-naturedly cheap jokes and its comic-book style, The Return of Swamp Thing is good campy fun, spoofing its horror premise effectively.

More subtlety or quiet introspection might have lent greater credibility to the role, though Grant and Robinson unquestionably have made their point.

Its interrogation of cross-cultural dysfunction and the colonialist legacy notwithstanding, Chocolat's foremost pleasures are visceral. Denis, even at this early stage, already seems attuned to film's power to suggest and seduce. Her debut emanates the effortless sensuality and sinewy elegance that have come to mark her movies, making it a sterling introduction to her cinema of sensation.

The plot has lots of holes, but veteran TV director Rod Daniel keeps the proceedings light and lively, and Belushi does a fine job of relating to a dog as a multidimensional character. Jerry Lee--while no Benji in the acting department--is likable and receives ample help from the film's editors.

One keeps waiting for something interesting to happen in Teen Witch, but it never does. Notwithstanding its supernatural elements, the film is basically a standard teenage love story (a squeaky clean one at that) with several unmemorable musical numbers thrown in.

LOVERBOY's "comedy" is a blend of genre-cliches and slapstick, and, not surprisingly, the film delivers few laughs.

Director Thomas Schlamme's unsure handling of scenes and indiscriminate use of unappealing close-ups of actors emoting at full steam only emphasize the material's weakness.

Ultimately, the film relies too heavily on consensual acceptance of baseball iconography as some kind of symbolic shorthand for all kinds of American values. These days, most of us prefer the NBA.

While the King source material forcefully taps into some deep-seated fears, PET SEMATARY (which was to have been directed by George Romero) squanders its potential through the ham-handed direction of Mary Lambert (SIESTA), who continually goes for visceral shocks at the expense of the more deeply disturbing psychological themes inherent in the material.

SHE'S OUT OF CONTROL would have done far better in the TV ratings than it did at the box office. It has all the production pluses of national ad campaigns: smart art direction, lighting, and costume design; a catchy mix of old and new rock'n'roll on the soundtrack. Unfortunately, SHE'S OUT OF CONTROL also resembles commercials in that it hopes to appeal to everyone and basically endears itself to no one.

Though it lacks Alfred Hitchcock's wry and macabre sense of humor, DEAD CALM is a cracklingly good, cold-blooded film that never lets up in its truly Hitchcockian suspense. Under the gripping direction of Phillip Noyce, the film sustains tension and power beautifully, right through to its startling conclusion.

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.

Martial arts fans will find plenty of action to hold their interest here, but those in search of plot and character are advised to look elsewhere.

Seldom have such complexity, emotional depth, honesty, and realism been invested in what is ostensibly a teen love story.

Unusually detailed animation glides hand in hand with the film’s aura of wonderment.

Dark, cynical, but deliciously funny, Heathers is a fascinating look not just at high school but at the way we look at high school.

The premise of TROOP BEVERLY HILLS might have worked as a comedy skit, but could hardly sustain a feature, and unfortunately the premise is virtually all the film's screenplay supplies. The lack of character development is particularly damaging for Long--since her character never becomes more than a cartoon, her reformation is never credible.

Chase delivers a one-note performance, consisting mainly of predictable comebacks and salacious leers, while the characters who become the targets of his witty rejoinders are weak and silly stereotypes. FLETCH LIVES is a custom-built Chevy Chase vehicle throughout; the other performers are only along for the ride.

Scientists in an underwater lab are picked off by a monster of the deep in this cheesy hybrid of Alien, The Thing, and The Abyss.

Cannibal Women does manage to be on target with its humor from time to time. But there are far more misses than hits as the movie also goes for the corny, the obvious, and the ancient.

The narrative is highly episodic and only intermittently engaging, but Gilliam's wildly inventive mise en scene, ably assisted by production designer Dante Ferretti, is extraordinary.

On the plus side, POLICE ACADEMY 6 is skillfully photographed by Charles Rosher, Jr., and has a very good soundtrack, supplied by Robert Folk. Unfortunately, high production values are wasted on films this slow-paced and silly.

An enjoyable, light-hearted romantic comedy with some cute incestuous undertones, CHANCES ARE is among the best of the body-switch films that cluttered movie screens in the late 1980s.

For a romantic comedy, this offers few laughs and little tenderness, and mainly evokes confusion with its muddled storyline and inept execution.

LEAN ON ME's manipulations justify Clark's drastic methods only superficially, by trivializing legitimate questions regarding Clark's actions.

Ritter lacks the charisma to bring his role off, the slapstick is tiresome, and Edwards' script fails to generate sympathy for Zach or to develop characters.

American Ninja 3 is a comic-book of a movie that goes too far to be a satisfying adventure and not far enough to be an entertaining parody.

Has an intangibly charming goofiness about it that is somehow endearing: here is a movie about teenagers that contains no excessive profanity, no drug references, and no explicit sexual activity.

The film's crisp photography and energetic soundtrack liven up a mystery that occasionally defies logic and at other times is transparent--but that never loses our interest, primarily because of Washington's masterfully understated performance.

This sequel to David Cronenberg's masterful 1986 remake is uninspired, uninvolving, and wholly unnecessary.

HER ALIBI veers with little purpose from bland drama to heavy-handed slapstick, with rhythm, characterization, and plotting better suited to television than the movies.

Candy manages to squeeze a few laughs from the crude and cliche-ridden script, but Paul Flaherty directs broadly and obviously, with little feeling for comic pacing.

Bronson does his usual violent-teddy-bear number believably, and the other actors do what they can with the formula script and hack direction.

Mississippi Burning is visually splendid. Director Parker and his crew have created a film that is unquestionably watchable. As a history lesson, however, it's laughable.

This obvious attempt to tap into the same audience that flocked to THREE MEN AND A BABY (indeed, it could have been titled "Two Men and a Toddler") is about as lifeless as they come. Not only is THREE FUGITIVES a scene-for-scene remake of Veber's French original, it is actually shot for shot the same film. Not surprisingly, the resulting film feels mechanical, despite engaging performances from Short and Nolte.

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 plot of Gleaming the Cube is far from original, but the skateboarding sequences are exhilarating and add a great deal of excitement to otherwise routine material.

About 10 minutes into DEEPSTAR SIX, it becomes clear that the film is yet another uninspired variation on ALIEN. The mechanical screenplay and flat direction fail to build suspense, and the characters are routinely drawn. While the technical work, relying heavily on miniatures, is competent, the rendering of the monster is hardly worth the wait.

Despite the participation of Moonstruck screenwriter John Patrick Shanley, a fine cast, and director Pat O'Connor, The January Man is a disappointing movie that plays like something that had languished at the bottom of Shanley's desk drawer since his student days.

Funny, touching, and ultimately tremendously buoyant--reflecting the optimism engendered by the short-lived 1980s economic boom—Working Girl is a "feel good" movie with some intelligence.

Hurt's performance is remarkably assured, and Davis beautifully captures her character's insouciance. Less than perfect is Turner, whose capable performance presents a figure somewhat hollow at the center.

The obsessive lust that drives Higgins to horrific extremes in Hellraiser was almost enough to carry that film, but Hellbound has no such straw to cling to, and the film collapses into a bloody mess of bravura set pieces that never add up to a satisfying whole.

Fueled by a brilliant performance from Bogosian, TALK RADIO is an intense experience that will leave most audiences feeling drained.

This interminable melodrama purports to be a warm, humorous, and moving look at the relationship of two women over the course of 30 years. In reality BEACHES is a trite, maudlin, and terribly superficial effort of the sub-made-for-TV quality, an insult to anyone who has ever befriended another human being.

Pfeiffer is a revelation in her part, almost stealing the film. Her relative stillness, masking internal unrest, makes her character seem more authentically "period" than her co-stars, who have adopted no formal period mannerisms.

Rain Man rises above the banality of its concept--another buddy movie crossbred with a road picture--to become a genuinely moving and intelligent look at what it means to be human.

Directed by Muppet manipulator-actor-director Oz, Dirty Rotten Scoundrels is an amusing comedy whose strengths and weaknesses both stem from the broad treatment of the material. In going for easy, lowest-common-denominator laughs, Oz loses much of the subtlety and occasionally dark humor of the orginal.

An extremely funny movie that presents a torrent of insightful gags at breakneck pace, I'm Gonna Git You Sucka features many of the stars of the old "blaxploitation" movies, adding weight and authenticity to Wayan's film. In offering up this affectionate parody of the old movies, Wayans also turns a satiric eye on black culture in general--but in an inoffensive, lighthearted manner.

Schwarzenegger proves to be mildly amusing, but DeVito seems to be coasting on his past reputation as an audience pleaser.

Had it actually been told from the perspective of the scientist's daughter, as the title suggests, it might have been more appealing, but instead a predictable, amateurish script shifts the focus elsewhere.

A continuous stream of verbal and visual gags that come so fast, you don't have time to realize how bad/old/corny they are.

Luckily, Towne has assembled a marvelous cast who somehow manage to keep the film moving, despite their obvious confusion over just what it is they're supposed to be feeling.

Neither Scrooged nor Murray, who is front and center throughout, is particularly funny.

Each character weighs the dilemma, and each has at least one breast-beating soliloquy on the subject, as COCOON II goes for poignancy in attempting to deal with the weighty issues raised in its funnier, more-upbeat predecessor. It's a commendable effort, but the result is a pretty dreary movie.

Bluth, a former Disney animator, understands that the greatest Disney films take us on an emotional journey in which all our hopes and fears are played out in a vivid fantasy world where anything can happen. The Land Before Time continues that great tradition.

Although Oliver & Company is fairly entertaining and better looking than the average Saturday morning cartoon show, the computer-assisted animation is relatively stiff and inexpressive.

Despite considerable production support and a relatively high budget (it was shot on location in Ireland and on a massive interior set at England's famed Shepperton studios), this is easily the weakest effort in director-screenwriter Jordan's solid career.

The film is flushed with bright light and cartoon hues, nicely accenting the fast-paced stew of incidents.

A combination of fresh twists, worn cliches, and frenetic camerawork, this film offers a premise that adults may not subscribe to--namely, that even Santa gets old, tired, forgetful, and in need of replacement. Still, the character with a heart of gold aims to entertain the young set and generally hits his targets.

Buoyed by a good cast, strong direction, and excellent effects, Child's Play almost works. Unfortunately, the screenplay is full of plot holes, lapses of logic, and missed opportunities.

Carpenter is trying for a satire of advertising and consumerism under late capitalism, and although the film is great fun at first--especially when depicting the world through Nada's glasses--it rarely rises above the intellectual level of a comic book.

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.

Hackman turns in his usual solid performance, and Glover is strong as the pilot who develops a deep empathy for the officer, although the device of having the men interact almost entirely by radio limits development of their relationship.

Given a distinctly playful treatment by Russell, who crams some kind of phallic imagery into almost every frame, THE LAIR OF THE WHITE WORM is solid, campy fun--much more entertaining than any of the director's "serious" films. Russell (who also scripted) enjoys himself with all kinds of fetishistic images, from a naked Amanda Donohoe slithering around in green body paint, to a white bra- and panties-clad Catherine Oxenberg suspened over a pit as a sacrificial offering to the great white worm-snake--whose flickering tongue is, no doubt, firmly in his cheek.