A good story and some good effects, but it's a subject that could stand a better, more defined script and more attention to the issues involved.

The nonstop pace may eventually numb viewers to the thrills, although Spielberg must be congratulated for adding some shades of character to his archetypal action hero this time around.

Malkovich pulls out all the gaudy stops.

Winslet and Keitel are perfectly matched, go-for-broke actors handed dramatic license to do a psychic striptease.

While there's no denying that the film's animation is technically impressive and is sometimes quite clever, its inventiveness is frequently at the service of gags so distasteful that gag is the operative word.

A frighteningly good horror movie with enough solid scares to freeze the blood of ardent fans and newcomers alike.

Not just an engaging melodrama that explores the class conflict and sexual mores of feudal Japan, but a work of extraordinary beauty; you could literally hang any random frame on the wall and call it art. No doubt the master would have been pleased.

It's hard to tell whether Attal means the fictional Yvan to be such an colossal jerk. His abrasive obnoxiousness undermines the film's generally light tone, and seriously deflects sympathy away from his character's dilemma.

Although an extremely violent movie, THE LAUGHING POLICEMAN benefits from skillful pacing, a literate script, and fine performances by Walter Matthau and Bruce Dern.

With its fades to blinding white and its atmosphere of testosterone-fueled paranoia, Carpenter's remake hews more closely to the source material — John W. Campbell, Jr.'s 1938 novella "Who Goes There?" — than THE THING FROM ANOTHER WORLD and is a masterful exercise in claustrophobic suspense.

A free-wheeling, uninhibited all-star romp, Ocean's Eleven set the pace for the "caper" films of the 1960s and 1970s.

Bond spends an awful lot of time being rescued from peril by supporting characters.

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.

Ambitious, but only sporadically engaging.

Mayer knows how to tug at the heartstrings, and his admirably restrained cast keeps the family drama from becoming too sugary.

Francis Ford Coppola's lavish version of Bram Stoker's classic novel is a visual cornucopia, overstuffed with images of both beauty and grotesque horror.

A must-see for martial arts enthusiasts.

Both enjoyably lighthearted and proof that even the most stridently purist approach to filmmaking can produce a cliched romantic comedy.

Overall it's a harmless disappointment, hampered by the thin story and a surprisingly dreary looking video-game setting, heavy on the floating platforms, cartoony future-cityscapes and goofy gadgetry.

The result is often quite funny, without ever managing to say anything especially new or perceptive about fame and the culture of celebrity.

This cautionary tale, complete with the swank cars, cool clothes and depraved babes that inevitably accompany degradation Hollywood style, is based on former sitcom scribe Jerry Stahl's lurid tell-all memoir of his descent into heroin addiction. Under the witty surface, the moral seems to be "The devil made me do it." Even by sitcom standards, that's old.

A fairly clever sendup of both heavy-metal music and the paranoid parental-action groups that want it banned.

The crisply photographed and edited Body of Lies reveals some ambition, for while it certainly works as pure entertainment, this tale of a good man trying to extract himself from an impossible situation offers some commentary on America's feelings about being in Iraq.

The movie belongs to the fifth-billed Bishil, a truly gutsy young actress who captures the essence of young female desire in all its adolescent confusion.

The film's mix of cheap gags, macabre coming-of-age story, social satire and Cronenbergian body horror is apparently meant to gel into black comedy, but it never quite does.

The technical razzle-dazzle that lets Jordan dribble on the cartoon court and inserts Bugs and Daffy into the "real" world is, sad to say, less than dazzling: This is no WHO FRAMED ROGER RABBIT. Can we go now, please?

Leguizamo deserves real kudos for making what he does of T.C., who is the film's walking lesson in how to undermine elitist clichés about working-class Long Island.

Thanks to a landmark performance by Al Pacino, SCENT OF A WOMAN is an agreeably watchable film. If they'd made it half an hour shorter and re-written the ending, it could have been a great one.