Don't expect many answers from the movie, for Stone hedges his bets toward the end and vacillates, leaving the whole thing infuriatingly ambiguous.

The film's standout moments include a photographer's (Vittorio Congia) death in front of a moving train; a car chase the streets of Rome; a sequence involving poisoned milk (a clear tip of the black leather gloves to Alfred Hitchcock's 1941 Suspician); and a final rooftop battle between Giordani and the elusive killer. Morricone's music fits tightly into this sophomore suspenser by Italian giallo specialist Dario Argento.

The whole sorry business is incontrovertible proof that Hollywood learned all the wrong lessons from 48 HRS.: Bring back Nick Nolte and Eddie Murphy, please!

It quickly becomes clear that Nijinsky's disordered thoughts are simply the rantings of a man losing his grip on reality. They're sad and occasionally evocative, but they're not especially interesting in and of themselves, and do nothing to evoke or illuminate Nijinsky's genius.

Sticky sweet sentimentality, clumsy plotting and a rosily myopic view of life in the WWII-era Mississippi Delta undermine this adaptation of an unpublished novel by David Armstrong.

Mines familiar territory and does nothing especially new with it. On the plus side, Kishitani is a spectacular villain.

The best thing about the whole sorry enterprise is the soundtrack, which features choice tunes by Bruce Springsteen, Starsailor and, of course, Parsons himself.

Unfortunately, Flicker wasn't able to rise above the limitations of his microbudget, and his message is compromised by student-film production values and performances that range from adequate to pretty awful.

This simplistic animated feature falls firmly within the long tradition of bland, upbeat and earnest religious instructional films.

The film isn't even enjoyably sleazy: It's just dumb and tacky.

A preposterous wilderness adventure (the kind that makes kids think sneaking into the zoo's bear pit is a cool idea) laid over a touchy-feelie story about good parenting.

You can't help but wish the set up were shorter and the dilemma longer.

Tatou IS adorable, but Michele is a such a brainless flibbertigibbet that it's hard to take her spiritual quest at all seriously, and if you don't feel in your heart that she's really TRYING to grow and mature as a spiritual person, then who cares about her idiotic antics?

The war between highly specific coming-of-age angst and icky-sticky overcoming-adversity cliches eventually brings the whole thing down.

A disappointment that mines the same vein of gross-out romantic comedy as"There's Something About Mary," without that film's oddball charm.

When Prince really performs on screen, he's terrific. If he'd take some acting lessons and team with a competent scriptwriter and director, he might be capable of creating a first-rate musical.

Intermittently amusing, forgettable action spoof showcasing Whoopi Goldberg and helmed by Penny Marshall.

As a debut it holds out the promise that Montias might do something more interesting in his next film.

Lee obviously wants to portray Ethan as something other than the dutiful No. 1 son, but Ethan isn't entirely convincing as a doped-up street hustler.

A movie that looks nice and moves along efficiently, but offers little reason for anyone to watch.

Despite her underwritten character, Mathis easily takes top acting honors with equal parts toughness and tenderness.

Patwardhan offers no solutions, but poses disturbing questions.

Characters lip-synch their dialogue -- badly.

With a wholly derivative concept, confused scripting, and incredibly sloppy direction, THE RUNNING MAN is a frustrating experience.

Is there anything remotely new left to be said about the world's oldest profession?

It's all surprisingly predictable. As for Sorvino, she can wear the clothes, but they don't necessarily make the man.

Favors light action over character dynamics.

Slick and glib when it means to be profound yet ruefully witty; its rhythms are pure sitcom, complete with emotional rimshots.