This is a smart and witty romantic farce that mixes sweet and sexy with surprising aplomb.

Craven builds an interesting premise, but the ending is lame and unsatisfying. Outstanding cinematography and a good musical score enhance the film's mood greatly.

The film has a certain easygoing charm, choppiness notwithstanding, and delivers several big laughs; if leads Cuthbert and Hirsch were as charismatic as scene-stealing supporting players Olyphant and Marquette, it might have joined the ranks of memorable teen comedies.

Unfortunately, this earnest but short-sighted documentary by New York-based painter-turned-filmmaker Stefan Roloff touches only the tip of a very large iceberg.

The film's dark heart is Valentinov's mephistophelean scheming: He sets about sabotaging his former protégé's game for no apparent reason except sheer malice.

Without understanding his motives, it becomes easy to lose patience with a character so obsessively devoted to a single, largely meaningless goal. Ultimately, RUDY is an inconsequential, if moving, contribution to the sports-movie genre.

The premise is pretty simple, and at two hours the murky sound, muddy low-light images and frequently dreadful acting are a little tough to take.

This flashy fright flick doesn't break any new ground, but puts an attractive gloss on genre conventions.

What begins as a gripping adventure, thrillingly told with virtually no dialogue, eventually becomes a rather routine parable despite the unique setting and circumstances.

Not much happens, but the the filmmakers' knowing, stylized eroticization of biker culture is extraordinary.

Although it begins promisingly enough, with a documentary-like look at the options available to young African-American men who grow up in the "ghetto life," this visually polished film stumbles when it comes to actually telling a story.

Willard could have been a great horror film; instead, it just makes you want to lift your feet safely off the floor.

Where "Pitch Black" relied on shadowy threats and sharply drawn relationships between a small group of stranded victims-to-be, Twohy's bloated space opera is an eye-popping three-ring circus of fabulously freaky costumes, over-ripe declaiming and computer-generated spectacle.

It's all beautifully photographed and Schwartzberg tries to capture the country's diversity despite notable omissions, as there always will be in any movie that attempts to "define" America.

BITTER MOON is entertaining, but in the manner of ghastly car crashes and legendary theatrical disasters; you can't take your eyes off it, but you often want to.

Allen Daviau's photography is exceptional; Quinn, Mueller-Stahl, and Plowright give commendable performances. Ultimately, though, Levinson's very personal project never acquires a personality of its own.

History gets short shrift from screenwriters William Nicholson and Michael Hirst -- starting with the not insignificant fact that in 1585, Elizabeth was 52 years old – but Kapur is clearly more interested in spectacle and soap opera than dusty old facts.

Painfully undermined by its central characters.

DUNE is visually delightful but choppy, confusing, and overloaded with exposition. Moreover, most of the thematic material that made the novel work--subtexts involving incestuous desire, capitalism vs. environmentalism, and Middle East politics--is simply missing.

The film is basically a two-character piece featuring Woodward and Cobb and probably would have made a very good play. Cinematically, it's lacking on several levels.

While the characters are fairly offbeat and interesting, the film is weighed down by some tediously handled camp intrigue, political skullduggery, and $2 million worth of special effects.

Shot largely in Toronto and cast with the best of the B-list, this film has the low-rent gloss of a made-for-cable thriller.

Wrapped in a layer of psuedo-spookiness that leads viewers to think the story is going somewhere it isn't.

Henkel's directing debut isn't incompetent: It's just derivative, pointless and tediously repetitive.

The right combination of goofy character behavior, action set pieces, and narrative drive to keep the movie from ever being boring.

The combination of Lee's discomforting subject matter and distancing style -- calculating artlessness punctuated by occasional flights of lyrical fantasy -- makes this slow-moving drama a challenge that doesn't seem entirely worth the effort.

Hopkins possesses a Candide-like equanimity in the face of bizarre happenstance that is thoroughly charming and keeps the story's excesses from becoming exasperating.

The effect is hypnotically disorienting, but the less familiar you are with this period in 20th-century Chinese history, the easier it is to get hopelessly lost in the tangle of personal and political loyalties and betrayals.