Overall, it's a curiously lifeless affair.

Most of the extreme Trek fans it features are obsessed in a big way, and if they were your children you'd probably be thinking therapy.

The non-professional actors do their schmaltzy best with Gatlif and co-writer David Trueba's sparse dialogue and what appears to have been Gatlif's very limited direction.

Fraser's goofiness matches that of the animated characters and he cheerfully pokes fun at his celebrity persona, while Elfman is oddly appealing as a strong woman who must seek help from a wascally wabbit.

The film's heart is the relationship between Elsa and Julien, and stars Bouanich and Serrault have a lovely onscreen rapport that's truly endearing.

It's merely glum when it should be bracingly grim.

The story is a familiar one--Robin Hood and his band of merry men trying to save the poor folks of Nottingham from Prince John's greedy ways--but, given the Disney treatment, the legendary heroes and events seem even more romantic.

A competent, if unremarkable, espionage thriller that is enjoyable while it lasts and forgotten moments after the credits roll.

This remake of Jerry Lewis's 1963 Jekyll and Hyde comedy is slackly directed and overloaded with flatulence jokes.

Between the gratuitous climaxes that seem to occur every 10 minutes, Kasdan parades a myriad of stereotypes before us and never develops them. In fact, he never really explores any of his characters but only provides them with enough motivation to justify the slaughter of dozens of people.

Hitchcock tried mightily but didn't quite overcome the rambling, overlong script of this film--much of which was penned by producer Selznick, who sent the director scenes as he finished writing them, a practice Hitchcock hated.

Painfully undermined by its central characters.

Luc Besson is a masterly director of stylish, thrilling, and humorous action set pieces, and this film's bravura opening and closing sequences are two of the year's best.

A darkly comic trifle that follows in the footsteps of such films as Catherine Breillat's "Romance" (2000), "The Brown Bunny" (2003) and Michael Winterbottom's "9 Songs" (2004) by incorporating hard-core sex into a nonpornographic narrative.

Presenting facts in a wrapper of fiction only muddies the waters, and many of the film's subtler points are likely to slip by viewers who haven't first read Schlosser's book. Other salient points are shoehorned into the dialogue, rendering key scenes preachy, heavy-handed and dramatically inert.

John Waters's film about a suburban mom turned serial killer lacks the bite it would need to be subversive, despite a few moments of vintage Waters tastelessness.

The Tin Drum is a disturbing film, rich with black humor, that takes a decidedly bitter and horrific look at the German people.

Hoffman is uncharacteristically charming in a demanding role; the supporting cast is uniformly excellent, particularly Chief Dan George as a befuddled patriarch who takes the supernatural as a matter of course.

Unfortunately, Defending Your Life suffers from a slushy-headed pop fever.

This black sense of humor, combined with the playful performances of its excellent cast (especially Donald Pleasance, as the head of the asylum), raises Alone In The Dark a cut above the average maniacs-on-the-loose entry.

Of the Naked Gun films, 33 1/3 is the most successful in capturing the breakneck genre parody that marked the short-lived but critically acclaimed Police Squad TV series (which won Nielsen his only Emmy). Taking broad pot shots at everything from Thelma & Louise to The Crying Game, and culminating with a breathless swipe at the sacred cow of the movie industry, the Academy Awards.

Aside from Bjork's astonishing performance, it's a grim tragedy that's deliberately drab and exceedingly painful to watch.

A throwback to an age when action movies had room between shoot-outs and car chases for dialogue - real dialogue, not rim-shot-ready one-liners - and character development.

Despite outward appearances, Paolo Virzi's utterly charming fable is actually a razor-sharp political satire.

Fascinating, if slightly unfocused, film.

In a film mercifully free of the usual warm and fuzzy movie sentimentality, director Maggie Greenwald and her fine cast shatter most hillbilly stereotypes.

If ever a movie cried out to be French, it's this one, and not just because it's a remake of Claude Chabrol's notoriously icy La Femme Infidele (1968).

While the film captures all the beauty of these extraordinary pieces, the details of Saint Laurent's legendarily turbulent personal life are glossed over with frustrating tact.