Limping along on a scant plot, HOT PURSUIT succeeds largely because of Cusack's handling of his character. Loggia is always a pleasure to watch, even when his part is as mindless as it is here.

This eighth film in the Bond series marks the first appearance of Roger Moore as the superspy. Less macho than Sean Connery's Bond, Moore's fastidiously dressed 007 survives by his wits and injects more humor into the proceedings.

Hartley's score is lovely and he makes excellent use of digital video, but the film's paucity of provocative ideas is its undoing.

Spare, rough around the edges and unsentimentally melancholy.

This package of three short films originally produced for German television is sex-themed without being especially sexy.

Based on the popular television series, Twilight Zone--The Movie is a frightfully lopsided omnibus that begins with two wretched episodes by John Landis and Steven Spielberg and finishes with an engrossing pair by Joe Dante and George Miller.

The result is a glossy, engaging suspense film that jettisons much of its predecessor's sadism and subtext in favor of crowd-pleasing revenge violence.

Ultimately, Schrader pulls us into a mind-over-matter kind of purgatory: Fun and original as his film is, it lacks feeling and heart.

The film's epic look is undermined by his narrow focus; in the end it feels rather thin and less than the sum of its handsome parts.

Screenwriter and co-director West -- who works in gay porn -- evinces an easy and even-handed familiarity with the milieu, and his characters only occasionally lapse into broad caricature.

Though the clash between old-world parents and their American-born children is familiar territory, New Jersey-born, Taiwan-raised director/cowriter Bay-Sa Pan gives the conflict a culturally particular spin and elicits strong performances from her appealing cast.

Surprisingly, some of the best moments come from supermodel Crawford and singer Connick, two acting tyros not generally known for their dramatic skills.

Vampire in Brooklyn, a purported "comic tale of horror and seduction" that is neither funny nor frightening, just unpleasant.

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.

Without any deeper consideration of the matter, the film is a grueling experience, and 90 minutes is simply far too long to spend in the company of Jesse Power.

What do you get when you cross a serial-killer movie with a sappy father/son drama and give it a time-travel twist?

SON-IN-LAW is like too much of Disney's profligate output, undemanding entertainment for undemanding people.

This gorgeously shot film is a trifle long at just over two hours; much of the racing footage could have been dispensed with, along with the sudsiest of the emotions.

Part The Great Escape, part standard sports movie, Huston's Victory limps along until hitting full stride with a brilliantly staged soccer sequence that provides the film's climax.

Director Harold Ramis, star and co-writer of STRIPES (1981) and GHOST BUSTERS (1984), keeps this film moving and heightens the humor with his inclusion of comic cameos from a variety of actors.

One hopes Koury will return to this interesting project to flush out the bigger story that continues to lurk just below the surface.

There are effective scenes and powerful performances scattered among long sequences in which various members of the family gaze into space as they contemplate the burden of the past, walk aimlessly through Atlanta or have odd encounters with strangers.

Little works in this contrived mess, but by far the worst aspect of it is Roberts' over-the-top histrionics. The film tries hard to create a relationship similar to that of Harvey Keitel and Robert DeNiro in Martin Scorsese's Mean Streets, but the actors' performances are so out of sync that the effort quickly becomes hopeless.

Youngblood is little more than a star vehicle for Lowe, who handles the role well enough.

All's well that ends well, and rest assured, the consciousness-raising lessons are cloaked in gross-out gags.

Hill's action scenes here are surprisingly perfunctory, but his narrative exposition is superb--a model of minimalist restraint in lurid circumstances. Hill also maintains his ability to push his actors in interesting directions here, though Rourke's laconic performance fails to pay off.

The whole enterprise has the sweaty sheen that comes from trying too hard to be cool.

Considering its queasy subject matter, Junior is surprisingly restrained, although it doesn't carry many laughs to full term.