A virtuoso experiment in animation that combines traditional anime aesthetics style with a variety of Western animation styles.

Carpenter's first directorial effort, an intermittently hilarious satire on 2001--A SPACE ODYSSEY. Carpenter's spaceship is piloted by four goofy astronauts who live like slobs and are bored out of their skulls by their long, uneventful mission.

Seven segments make up this melange--some of them work; some of them are dreadful. It was Allen's sixth screenplay, his third directorial assignment, and one of his weakest efforts.

Woo's career, LAST HURRAH FOR CHIVALRY gives fans of Woo's later work (A BETTER TOMORROW, THE KILLER, BROKEN ARROW, FACE/OFF) the chance to see him develop his expertise at staging action and telling stories of friendship, loyalty, and betrayal among a close-knit group of men.

What divides opinion is the film's tone: Are those naive, portentous pronouncements about media, voyeurism and the numbing, pornographic allure of atrocity footage a sly reflection of the YouTube generation's boundary-free narcissism and callow youth, or evidence that Romero – never one to underplay a metaphor – has become a hectoring, tin-eared fogey?

White Hunter is an ambitious and intriguing project that never amounts to anything more than the sum of its parts--a trait shared by many of Eastwood's other major project as an independent filmmaker, Bird.

Location shooting gives this intermittently powerful film a semidocumentary feel.

It takes place in an artificial world constructed largely from the mythology of other movies, and, though it's both seamless and stylish, some find it a little too self-conscious for its own good.

Like the hardscrabble lives of this isolated wasteland, it's equal parts unforgiving white-heat aridity and golden late-afternoon glow.

A sad blot on an impressive career.

Stuart and Margolo are genuine marvels of computer generated special effects, each feather, whisker and strand of fur beautifully rendered. But they're bland and rather boring characters, dumbed down for kids.

While not particularly dramatically compelling, the film is carefully constructed and exposes both the economic and sexual exploitation of illegal workers.

This ultra-stylish film is far more interested in exploring its own central image -- the camera -- than the forensic minutia of the mystery.

Filmed with great visual style, the film looks terrific but makes almost no sense save for its "insider" references to such films noir as Jean Luc Godard's Alphaville and Fritz Lang's M.

However unlikely the twists and turns in this mystery, Dead Again moves briskly forward, never weighed down by any sense of seriousness.

This is the rare Holocaust documentary that ends on an optimistic note, and Comforty's film might even help reinforce one's faith in humankind.

Zanuck and Dexter employ an elliptical narrative style, stringing together vaguely connected scenes that nervously cut away before their full, depressing implications can sink in. The result is a lack of any meaningful character development or narrative drive.

Unlike Woody Allen's New York City, which becomes a staging area for character angst and transformation, Martin's L.A. stifles the characters.

Once upon a time there was a feisty young woman who didn't sit around twiddling her pretty thumbs and singing "Someday My Prince Will Come." That's the revisionist spin on Cinderella, and it twirls very nicely.

A very expensive caper picture that drowns in its own artiness, using multi-images, cinematic tricks, and other pretentious film gimmicks--all of which detract from the story.

The village is filled with nay-sayers and depressing townsfolk, but Pollyanna soon changes matters by always managing to find something good in every situation, seeing the bright side of even the blackest occurrences.

The gadgets are up to the usual Bond standards, but fancy effects do not a movie make, and 007 is less satisfying floating around in space than when his feet are more or less firmly planted on the ground.

The movie races all over the place in a hurry to illuminate the "little people" who live in quiet desperation. It's a bit too noisy for that, and yet there is enough about it to warrant attention.

All the right intentions but never overcomes the essential problem of showing what's going on inside people's heads.

An enjoyable mix of fine animation, catchy songs, and outstanding voice characterizations.

Director Polanski, a master of movie atmospherics (e.g., Chinatown, Rosemary's Baby), here creates a hauntingly foreign, forbiddingly stylish Paris that seems to move to the oneiric disco stylings of Grace Jones. Harrison Ford, outstanding as an American innocent abroad, moves persuasively from complacency to confusion, rage, and paranoid desperation in a performance comparable to James Stewart's best work for Hitchcock.

Astaire and Rogers persistently upstage the romantic leads, Irene Dunne and Randolph Scott, and they simply fly, largely unburdened by the plot.

Unlike so many other recent youth-oriented independent efforts, it takes on difficult, even impossible, issues with genuinely astonishing results.