A rambling revisionist western whose episodic nature was only marginally successful and which didn't come close to BUTCH CASSIDY AND THE SUNDANCE KID on any level.

Played for comedy, the film never quite works, and Curtis can't quite handle his role.

This is silly stuff, and the gooey special effects make it ever sillier. Director Girdler--who died in a helicopter crash before the film was released--does a respectable job of making it all look rather slick and professional, but the big budget and all-star cast only add to the overall absurdity.

The bones of a great Western remain barely visible under the layer of mush he and screenwriter Ken Kaufman smooth over them, reminders of the viciously memorable film that might have been.

Trumbo, directing his first film, drives home his points in a somewhat obvious, often awkward fashion that is overly talky, but so disquieting is his story and the reality underlying it that it is difficult not to be moved by the film and Bottoms' fine performance.

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

Strictly for the young ones.

The oddest thing about this movie isn't that the familiar characters have been transformed into aliens, or that dogs and cats possess human traits: It's the odd sight of futuristic fantasy in 18th-century dress.

Although Eaten Alive is not so unusual or terrifying as Texas Chainsaw, Hooper does a fine job of building up the Southern-gothic atmosphere and continues his brilliant use of sound to enhance the sense of unease and suspense.

The alien costumes are clever and show some real imagination in their design. Yet the filmmakers have forgotten a key element. Without an interesting story or characters, special effects aren't enough to sustain a feature film.

This might have been a terrific movie. It has all the right ingredients: a beautiful woman in an odd situation, a background as colorful as any movie ever made, a script by veterans Lorenzo Semple and David Newman, and a historic comic strip. So what went wrong? Blame must be laid squarely on the shoulders of John Guillermin, who directed the movie as if he weren't sure if it was adventure, comedy, or camp.

This beautifully shot, 70-minute black-and-white film remains deliberately inconclusive.

At a certain point, its sheer can you top this excess, and credibility files out the window three's no reason to continue paying attention.

An intelligent story for the kilts-and-corsets crowd.

A mixed bag of mixed moods. The somberness of Dickens's oft-filmed seasonal cautionary fable works at cross purposes with the Muppets, keeping their usual gentle anarchy at bay.

Director Altman's work, with its lack of focus and its spontaneous shooting style, can either fascinate or infuriate an audience. Unusually told and well-acted, this film, nevertheless, is forgettable.

Dillon makes an assured directing debut, neither indulging in unnecessary stylistic flourishes nor allowing scenes to run too long, a tendency in actors-turned-director.

All that charm is wasted in careless scenes that don't make much sense and the whole thing feels slapped to together with chewing gum and spit.

The film is carried by Downey, appearing in his first starring role. Ringwald, while performing adequately, just doesn't seem right for the part. Toback has devised an interesting premise that draws parallels between risking one's heart and one's wallet, but the picture itself risks little.

Colors has a tentative, ambivalent feel to it--as if Hopper merely considered himself a hired gun who should avoid imposing too personal a vision on the material.

Widely noted as a politically correct animated feature, FernGully is entertaining enough to make its occasionally overstated message palatable.

Die-hard fans will appreciate this rare glimpse of the great band at work, while mavens of unique musical instruments will delight in seeing Page "play" the seldom-used theramin (previously restricted to the Beach Boys's "Good Vibrations" and schlock horror movie soundtracks). Also, it's kind of fun watching the backstage hysterics of band manager Peter Grant, the man of legendary bad temper who was the basis for Spinal Tap's manager, Ian Faith, in THIS IS SPINAL TAP (1984).

While the original was a rather cerebral exercise in suspense, the American version has predictably been given a more visceral dimension. The new version is more simplistic, but still works on its own level.

Too disturbing for most children, too suggestive of cornball kiddie fare for most adults, this oddly affecting film is unlikely to capture the audience it deserves.

Runs out of story a good half hour before it runs out of spooky images, but it comes to a quietly chilling conclusion far more haunting than any bloody mayhem.

It is message filmmaking so blunt you might be tempted to root for the parasitic reprobate over the saintly old man, and that's just not right.

Hawn makes the most of the script, written by Nancy Meyers, Charles Shyer, and Harvey Miller, providing many funny moments in her performance.

Without Azaria's comedic gifts, the movie would be close to unendurable.