Mark Rydell shows some fine touches in his third feature, but the result is an overlong and often-dull movie that had the rare distinction of being one of the few John Wayne westerns that gasped at the box office.

This wry, low-key comedy, crafted by members of the sketch-comedy group The State, swims defiantly against the stream of contemporary comedy, eschewing bodily-function jokes and obvious gags in favor of laughs so sly and self-effacing you could almost overlook them.

It would have been nice if Hardwick had a bigger budget for retakes to work out some of the supporting actors' stiffness, but he does keep the story moving, finding the humor in characters caught up in their own machinations rather than cheap wisecracks.

The harder you try to follow the narrative the more frustrating the film becomes, but its sleekly menacing images work their way into your brain like slivers of dry ice.

Entertaining documentary.

Strikes a carefully calibrated balance between the film's darkly malicious sense of humor and its pastel sets and costumes.

Not only do the firefighting scenes evoke a feeling of gritty authenticity, but the fire itself really does seem to be alive.

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.

Touching, if cliched.

However unlikely the twists and turns in this mystery, Dead Again moves briskly forward, never weighed down by any sense of seriousness.

The writing is sharp and often blithely cynical, although not above using a shooting star to put a lump in the throat. The tone, however, is at times dangerously uncertain.

An uneasy mix of B-movie scares.

Former actor Don Taylor directs smoothly and efficiently and elicits fine performances from the cast, highlighted by the warm relationship between Zira, (a touching Kim Hunter) and Cornelius, knowingly played by Roddy McDowall, who returns in the role after being replaced in the first sequel because he was directing a movie (TAM-LIN) at the time.

Fails to capture the essence of Hesse's book, try though it may. It is more a series of filmed events than an interpretation of the story.

What distinguishes Cordero's film is his use of location.

Overly sentimental, but with its heart in the right place, THE OLIVE TREES OF JUSTICE tells the story of Prothon, a Parisian who returns to Algiers (he was raised there) during the war of independence to be with his dying father.

The soundtrack, thick with catchy tunes by artists ranging from P.Diddy to Paul Simon, is a fine counterpoint to the story and visuals.

Bettany, previously best known as a supporting player, shoulders the burden of a Hugh Grant-style romantic lead surprisingly well, revealing an offbeat charm.

Though filmmaker Nina Gilden Seavy followed Bering Strait for the better part of two years, their story is in no way over at the film's conclusion.

McKenzie's mercurial performance is the centerpiece of this sad, surprisingly absorbing story.

The result is so intoxicating, it hardly matters that you've heard it all before.

This far more modest production is a much more interesting film (than "Anywhere But Here").

This raw and raunchy drama from director Henrique Goldman offers what few feature films have ever bothered to attempt: a realistic, wholly sympathetic look at the lives of transgendered prostitutes.

This surprisingly grim comedy-drama is about as good as director Joel Schumacher gets.

It's hard not to be charmed by scenes like the one in which Briggs gives his posies a little pep talk, assuring them that just because they sprouted behind prison walls doesn't mean they can't compete with those hoity-toity flowers at Hampton Court.

Marketing-minded folks may be quick to position Guncrazy as a 90s take on Bonnie and Clyde (1967), and its title is certainly meant to evoke Joseph H. Lewis's 1949 classic Gun Crazy. But this film is by no means as brash, startling, or iconoclastic as either. Its quieter character-study nature has more in common with They Live by Night (1949), its remake Thieves Like us (1974), and Badlands (1973). Compared to these three landmarks, Guncrazy comes up lacking in lyricism and resonance, but it does give ample pleasures thanks to a subtly self-aware sense of humor and fine performances by itstwo leads.

It's not a nice movie; like The Exorcist, it is ugly, cynical, and mean-spirited. Yet it's also rendered with the same gripping, unholy conviction that has been Friedkin's "saving grace" throughout his career.

Sure, like cotton candy: It doesn't do a thing for you, but it's wickedly sweet as it melts on your tongue.