There's an argument to be made that the film's ending is the logical conclusion of its notion that everyone's trapped in a limbo of disappointment, uncertainty and paralyzing fear of change. But it feels like a cheap cop out: The cast, and the audience, deserve better.

The charismatic Mac has stepped into leading man roles with surprising ease, but Bassett -- a fine actress in all respects -- is clearly struggling with the film's broad comedy.

Attal's characters are one-note position statements, which forces the unsubtle soundtrack - mostly American pop songs that range from the Velvet Underground's "Sunday Morning" to Radiohead's "Creep" - to bear the brunt of clarifying their thoughts and feelings. Without it, you'd be entirely in the dark.

Director Paul Schrader's dreamlike, stylishly atmospheric remake of Val Lewton's 1942 horror classic needs to be taken on its own terms: viewers who assent to its Freudian logic and creepy sexuality will likely be entranced, but just a little critical distance renders the whole thing irretrievably ludicrous.

Would be more appealing if the women's behavior weren't alternately moronic and venal.

Given Argento's willingness to attempt the controversial book at all, she pulls a surprising number of punches. What at first appears to go too far in reality doesn't go far enough: Argento doesn't even broach the subject of child prostitution.

The extremes of this production's assets and liabilities are embodied by Caleb Deschanel's cinematography and Gabriel Yared's score: One is as glorious and transcendental as the other is execrably sappy.

While movies like "The Long Riders" (1980) and "The Great Northfield, Minnesota Raid" (1972) aim to be serious considerations of the outlaws' lives and legends, this picture just wants to have fun.

The extremely intimate violence is more explicit than is the mainstream norm, and Dalle's mouth is the stuff of nightmares.

Despite a crowded cast of famous actors, this WW II adventure falls flat because of its claustrophobic sets, cliche dialog, and hackneyed story.

This film wants to be bleak, nihilistic, and darkly hilarious but Catch-22 emerges as an exercise in frustration for those unprepared for Nichols's episodic, detached, and surreal treatment of the novel. Like a nightmare, the film shifts from one bizarre episode to another, with Alan Arkin's dazed Yossarian reacting to the madness that surrounds him, but second only to the viewer.

There is much to enjoy in this movie, but just as much to yawn over. One has the feeling that this was a play that was never produced on stage but went directly to the screen from the typewriter. Since so much of it is dialogue with very little cinematic action, it just feels stagebound.

Not one of the team's best, but enough fun flowed from the combined pens of Barry (who wrote the play) and Stewart (who wrote the screenplay) to make it a pleasant comedy.

When it's not wasting time with character, this deliberately dumb collegiate comedy is good for a few laughs of the big butts and sex variety, but not much else.

Enjoyable and funny enough.

Isn't nearly as bad as it might have been.

There's not much substantive food for thought.

It is ultimately a simplistic film that will play better to youngsters who wish their grandpas were this cool and to parents who are nostalgic for the kind of exceptional childhood they neither had nor can provide for their own children.

Though filled with strong performances from all the principals, THAT WAS THEN...THIS IS NOW is thin material. We watch as Estevez's tortured character tries to come to grips with adult emotions and responsibilities, but we never really get a handle on what is inside him. Screenwriter-actor Estevez fails to provide any insight. What is refreshing about the film is that the teenagers seem real, with a keen sense of detail in the portrayal of their environment.

While far from the worst adaptation of Poe's work (there are so many candidates for that dubious honor it's hard to know where to start), Two Evil Eyes breaks no new ground.

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

Aside from an inspired bit involving a pair of sycophantic starfish, it's amazing how unimaginative a movie about a mermaid can be, and it's sad how thoroughly its girl-power stylings devolve into a muddle of mixed messages.

This is director Luc Besson's first attempt at combining animation with live-action, and while the look of the film is impressive, he should have focused more of his efforts on fleshing out the script that he adapted from two of his own "Arthur" books.

Herek does capture the rush and crush of a stadium concert, and the music (more Leppard than Priest) isn't half bad -- in a disposable, arena-rock sort of way.

There's nothing much new going on here (we feel compelled to point out the resemblance to one of the worst-ever episodes of The X-Files, "Teso Los Bichos"), but it's all slickly done, with the requisite big jumps, false leads, weird science and scary trips down dark corridors.

But good intentions aside, Tucker and codirector Petra Epperlein only further confuse the issue: Their rap-video stylings and use of non-source music create the impression that you're watching characters trapped in a Tom Clancy Xbox game.

SCREAM, BLACULA, SCREAM benefits from a slicker presentation but the script is fairly unimaginative and fails to capitalize on the more intriguing aspects of the clash between voodoo religion and the vampire legend.

Photographed as harsh spectacle in brown and gray with unfailingly overcast skies, the story is affecting and suspenseful enough when focusing on Vassili, the humble peasant youth, and his patrician adversary playing a chess-like game of cat-and-mouse.