Despite some strong performances, never rises above the level of a telanovela.

"Double Indemnity's" darkly poetic carnality is timeless. Trashy, throwaway fluff like De Palma's film can only look bad by comparison.

Although sporadically funny and not quite the disaster it was initially made out to be, this ROBIN HOOD robs gags from other films while giving the poor viewer far too few laughs.

The novelty value of seeing 17th-century French swordsmen fight like Chinese martial artists doesn't compensate for the film's generally wooden performances and clichéd dialogue.

Lame and surprisingly awkward from start to finish.

Most of it comes across as overheated nonsense, but Page's egomaniacal telephone soliloquy at the film's climax is reason enough to tune in.

A train wreck of a film whose chaotic, partly improvised story and too-tricky mix of film stocks, image sizes, split-screen effects and color/B&W footage overwhelm some phenomenally beautiful sequences and a memorable performance by Saffron Burroughs.

The best parts of the film come when he (Doillon) just lets the camera roll and lets the kids be kids.

The film pretends to be seriously concerned about the intersection of madness and identity, but never explores who these people really are. Instead of showing two people developing genuine intimacy through tenderness and slow, hard-won honesty, we see hysterical behavior generating hysterical responses. This is less psychodrama than Harlequin romance.

Energetic and ambitious, and its likeable cast marks a welcome return of non-white faces to the center of a gay-themed film.

if you're in the mood to watch some high-class head-kicking, Double Impact is a perfectly adequate piece of work.

The identity of the bad guy is ludicrously obvious; and his public unmasking relies on the dopiest contrivance in recent memory.

Even on a purely sentimental level, Free Willy this ain't: The product placements are the most promiscuous in recent memory --perhaps in history -- and all but the smallest children will sense the cynicism underlying this superficially noble shaggy fish story.

All too often, dramatic confrontations feel like barely dramatized debates.

Marred by lack of a clear strategy and an over-reliance on audio-visual trickery.

This neo-noir pastiche is so preposterously overwrought that you keep figuring it must be some kind of joke, except that it's not funny.

The movie's "shock" payoff still feels like a cheap trick.

Dull, derivative horror anthology.

All of this of course would be forgivable if it all added up to a scary movie or made even a lick of sense, but Balaguero manages to disappoint on all possible fronts.

Happily, a feeling of genuine comradeship among these athletes shines through, and their irreverent, go-for-broke comments are a jolt of fun compared to the usual canned epigrams from pampered sports multimillionaires.

This imitation of the classic AMERICAN GRAFFITI is set on Halloween night, 1965, when a group of teenagers decides to get back at the grown-ups for closing down the main drag street in Beverly Hills. Gags involving urination, obscenities, and racism are included in the fun; ripoffs from GRAFFITI include the sabotage of a police car and a disc jockey who plays tunes all night long.

SIDE OUT might interest a few beach bums, volleyball fans, and product-placement buffs, but otherwise it has limited appeal.

Rather than converting messy, real-life experience into slick, formulaic entertainment, Well's script transforms it into a shapeless, internally inconsistent mess of artificial contrivances.

A rather tepid anthology film, CAT'S EYE is a pastiche of leftover Stephen King notions, connected by a ubiquitous cat that ominously appears to set off each tale.

Fun for the kids, but no Beauty and the Beast or Lion King. This child-friendly retelling of Hercules' story takes the predictable liberties with a story originally chockablock with sex, violence and generally sordid behavior. After several passes through the Disney wringer, a sanitized, blandly blond Hercules (voice of Tate Donovan) emerges, ready to enter no pantheon other than that of muscle-beach pinup boys.

Bond spends an awful lot of time being rescued from peril by supporting characters.

Predictable and dull, though sleazy brothers Borgnine, Martin, and Elam are terrific.

Call it Death Wish Goes Suburban.