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.

For anyone unfamiliar with pentacostal practices in general and theatrical phenomenon of Hell Houses in particular, it's an eye-opener.

The film's uniformly excellent performances are a delight, and fans of Irish actor Farrell (whose pitch-perfect American accent has served him well in Hollywood) can hear both his natural inflections and his singing voice.

The result is undeniably offensive and occasionally very funny, but the gags fall flat as often as they hit their mark.

Grand Canyon successfully recreates the random, haphazard ways in which individual lives intersect, and captures the sense of menace and disintegration that permeate contemporary urban life.

A sometimes hilarious farce and a holiday favorite.

Director John Dahl keeps a firm hand on Christopher Markus and Stephen McFeely's razor-sharp hit-man-in-rehab comedy, which mines the same dark vein as "Gross Pointe Blank"(1997) and "Matador"(2005), and the payoff is both slily funny and startlingly fresh.

Ostensibly an "adult comedy" about serious things, screenwriter Richard LaGravenese's disjointed directing debut rings profoundly false, a story about class distinctions and suffering conceived and executed in privilege.

The result is flashy -- first-time directors Larry and Andy Wachowski never miss an opportunity to show us red, red drops of blood against brilliant white -- but pretty good fun, especially if the thought of Tilly in a succession of thigh-high bandage dresses makes you sweat.

It shifts the focus from Charles and Sebastian's youthful idyll to the stronger, more provocative relationship between Charles and Julia, wherein lies Waugh's concerns with materialism and velvet-gloved dual grip of family and religion.

It's a gripping, understated thriller with a solid emotional undercurrent that builds to an unexpectedly moving denouement.

Title notwithstanding, there's nothing particularly funny about this political drama from the tireless Claude Chabrol.

An efficient but shallow fright show.

FOOL FOR LOVE is a great play, and the performances from the cast are solid--especially Stanton's and Shepard's--but as a film the whole thing seems rather contrived and stiff.

Their subtle, complex performances could put far more experienced and better-known actors to shame.

Filmed in glamourous black and white (with vampire POV sequences shot in arty Pixelvision), it's one of the most mannered horror flicks ever made.

Micki & Maude has some very funny scenes and excellent acting from all the performers. It begins a bit slowly but builds well and winds up in a comic celebration.

Eastwood, ironically, is the weak link in the cast, a less-than-ideal choice to play a screw-up who squeaks through life on personal magnetism: He's got star quality, sure, even a certain remote sexiness, but he's no charmer.

CROSS OF IRON is anything but a standard WWII movie, especially compared to its mythicizing contemporaries. Shot superbly by cinematographer Coquillon, the film shows war as hideously brutal, inglorious, and insane.

A cut above the noisy, pop-culture joke-larded norm, and it's much more than a "Happy Feet" knockoff.

The film's dark heart is Valentinov's mephistophelean scheming: He sets about sabotaging his former protégé's game for no apparent reason except sheer malice.

Casting a film set in Latin America with Spanish-and Italian-speaking performers acting in English misfires; the actors' diverse accents clash, some are clearly more fluent than others and the sense of relief when anyone speaks a rare line in Spanish is palpable.

(Tykwer's) unpredictability has become predictable, and the only thing genuinely uncanny here is the unsettling — and unintentional — sense of déjà vu.

Subtle performances and the "you are there" immediacy conferred by digital video give Roy's film the feel of a series of stolen moments.

Offbeat documentary filmmakers Fenton Bailey and Randy Barbato dissect the history and legend of perhaps the best known and most profitable pornographic movies ever made.

Winner of the John Cassavetes Award for Best Feature Under $500K at the 2006 Independent Spirit Awards, Henry's film is beautifully shot and extraordinarily well acted by Williams.

Despite Trevor Nunn's direction, this gorgeously photographed travesty of history doesn't omit a single cliche of the costume genre and feels even longer than its 142-minute running time. Fans of RSC-style scenery-chewing will not, however, be disappointed.

Questions the efficacy and, above all, the humanity of what even steadfast Bush supporters like Tony Blair have condemned.