It may not be as epochal a piece of work as "Mean Streets," but packs what feels like a real-life punch none the less.

This relentlessly name-dropping comedy lacks the teeth that could have made it really interesting.

Raggedly produced, savagely funny movie.

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.

Though the electric organ score is unnecessarily ominous in clearly comical scenes, this is a fascinating early interpretation of what has become a classic tale.

The action is lightning-fast and balletically staged, living up to the choreographic potential often claimed--but seldom truly realized--for martial arts pictures by their highbrow admirers.

There's nothing hugely original going on here, but as twisty-turny crime thrillers go, this one is perfectly entertaining.

A crazy, subversively funny film about convention-bound characters who have a hard time dealing with sexuality and freedom.

Merits watching if only because it's a bracing corrective to the deeply entrenched image of Europe's Jews plodding, sheep-like, to their deaths in Nazi concentration camps.

A dark, brooding noir, with Widmark riveting as a hustling promoter who sinks into the quagmire of his own ambitions.

A perennial favorite on college campuses since it first reached the screen at the height of the Vietnam War.

A paralyzingly beautiful documentary with a global vision: an odyssey through landscape and time, which is an attempt to capture the essence of life.

This potent drama might be dismissed as therapy in the guise of filmmaking if it weren't so clear-eyed. At its core are three remarkable performances.

Zsigmond's superb photography conveys much of the lyrical quality of the story but the screenplay by Sharp ("Night Moves") falls short by comparison.

Davidson's young cast is remarkable, engaging and guilelessly funny without being so cute that their calculated actions ring false.

This film represents a perfect match of filmmaker and material. Akerman's fondness for long, static takes and circular, recurring dialogue perfectly suits the maddening repetitions that set the tone of Proust's darkest work.

D.A. Pennebaker and Chris Hegedus's record of the event is an invaluable document, its technical limitations notwithstanding.

This feverish drama examines issues of faith and redemption through the practice of prayer intercession.

At well over two hours it's merely exhausting, and the constant evocation of the fearsome power of "The Lodge," which proves Pat's salvation (Nwamu is himself a Freemason), is as silly-spooky as the White and Black Lodge hokum of "Twin Peaks."

While the film isn't entirely amateurish -- shots are cut together and the cinematography is professional if not precisely stylish -- the story feels as though large pieces are missing and the characters behave so inconsistently that there's zero incentive to care about their tribulations.

Overall, this puff piece is shapeless, repetitive and feels much longer than it is.

The occasional eerie moment can't elevate this routine piece of by-the-numbers J-horror above the pack.

Visually inventive, The Maker is a superficially compelling film that adds nothing new to the environment-vs.-heredity debate.

The rhythms of Charlotte's mannered, artificial dialogue are better suited to stage than screen -- each segment started life as a one-act play and overall the film works better as a conversation starter than drama.

Mukherjee's charm keeps the child-like Geeta from being thoroughly annoying, and the musical numbers are pleasant, if not particularly memorable.

The result is slick, mainstream entertainment with just enough surprises that you don't have to feel like a fool for enjoying it.

Clearly a labor of love and a call to action, but it's undermined by the sheer volume of topics it tackles in addition to the main subject.

This entry has more overt humor than the other PHANTASMs, and some of it strays too far on the goofy side, but Coscarelli keeps the key plot and its attendant horrors anchored in commendable seriousness.