Despite a predictable plot and an abundance of stereotypes--the product of a surprisingly clunky script by Barry Levinson and Valerie Curtin--this is a well-meaning film with strong performances all around.

It's not a cheap rip-off -- it's a credible sequel to a horror classic, and a sad reminder that some things never change.

Stylish but shallow story.

The puzzle pieces are all there. But when you put them all together, the result is a bit of a gyp — neat but utterly forgettable.

This tale of crime and punishment is wrapped in a veneer of flashy attitude but founders on mundane details.

Fast-paced, fully aware of its own foolishness, and with lively dance sequences, BREAKIN' 2 is an enjoyable diversion for those who like breakdancing.

But while the material is interesting, it's not substantial enough to sustain a feature-length treatment.

A simple story is lost in the film's complex structure, and only when O'Neal and Julia are on screen together does this directorial debut of cinematographer Caleb Deschanel come to life.

Director Jeff Renfroe and screenwriter Andrew Joiner's flashy psychological thriller wants to say something important about the dangers of a fear-mongering media and resultant ethnic profiling in an age of terrorism, but their warnings are undone by a tricky plot that tries to have it both ways while leaving the audience arguing among themselves as to what it all means.

Clearly, neither screenwriter Randall Wallace nor director Michael Bay ever met a cliche he didn't embrace.

The thin story line of NEPTUNE'S DAUGHTER revolves around swimming star Esther Williams as Eve Barrett, a partner in a bathing suit company (with Keenan Wynn), who must continually fight off the advances of millionaire playboy Jose O'Rourke (Ricardo Montalban).

Our favorite parts, though, were the moments of unintentional humor, mostly courtesy of Ms. Archer. Her insufferably goody-goody performance makes you wish Glenn Close would show up brandishing a kitchen knife.

The film's woozy, digital-video gorgeousness is undeniable, and the glittering shots from atop the Brooklyn Bridge could make a tough guy weep.

It's all wonderfully trashy fun, but the good times come to an abrupt halt when the filmmakers, hoping to capitalize on the starlet's sensational death in 1967, cheaply dramatize the car crash that took the lives of Mansfield, her driver, her friend and lawyer, and Choo Choo.

One youngster -- even a youngster as talented as Rossum -- can't transform a mess of clichés into a little gem.

Sex and psychosis mix in this nice looking, Super-8 psychodrama from Patrick McGuinn, the son of former-Byrd Roger McGuinn.

A worthy successor to the original movie, NIGHTMARE PART 2 is surprisingly optimistic and moral. The power of love and kindness wins out over evil and violence--something not often seen in modern horror films.

Like its star, Howard's movie is affable, but has limited range.

DeMeo is not without talent; he just needs better material.

Though apparently conceived as a revisionist Western, Tombstone falls prey to the cliches of the genre, and its last third is a muddle.

Depending on your level of Elvis fandom, you'll either find this a typically fluffy Presley vehicle with mainly forgettable tunes--save the hit I Can't Help Falling in Love--or none of that will matter.

Under the veneer of hip lies a bland romantic comedy wrapped in a layer of less-than-biting lifestyle satire, whose single most authentic moment involves an old woman and her scruffy mutt Buddy. Not cool.

Wang's film doesn't really have anything more to say about power, manipulation and the wild unpredictability of sexual energy than "Last Tango" did 30 years ago.

Whip together TV's The Invaders and V. Fold in cult classic Enemy From Space and season with a dash of Species. The yield: an agreeable cocktail of paranoid sci-fi conventions that bubbles along energetically, despite surprisingly low-tech trappings

Benigni wants to tell a poignant fable rooted in the love between a father and son, but everything hinges on whether one finds his gags inspired or tasteless. Humor can only save some of us.

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

It was the first time that homosexuality and cannibalism had ever been handled by a mainstream studio as a commercial venture. Let's hope that it remains the last time those two practices will be presented in tandem.

Like a delicious pasta salad, ruined with intermittent slabs of Velveeta cheese.