Visually striking and viscerally repellent, director Denis Villeneuve's Quebecois oddity offers a nightmarish vision of one woman's unraveling, the likes of which haven't been seen since Roman Polanski pushed Catherine Deneuve off the deep end in "Repulsion" (1965).

Occasionally melodramatic, it's also extremely effective.

The acting is similarly accomplished across the board, though it must be noted that Currie nearly walks off with the film: He's the funniest preppie seducer since Tim Matheson in "Animal House" (1978).

This is solid entertainment, and the time Caviezel and Pearce spent training for their sword fights pays off handsomely.

Wang's film offers an interesting look at the rapidly changing face of Beijing.

The creepy set pieces are repetitive and the payoff is rather unsatisfying, even though the prophecies do eventually pan out.

The look is utterly faithful to Tezuka's aesthetic -- he loved classic Disney animation, especially "Bambi" (1942) -- but it's hard to empathize with the angst of a character who looks like a Super Mario Brother.

Beautifully animated epic is never dull.

DeMeo is not without talent; he just needs better material.

Obvious and, frankly, 25 years too late.

Despite its floating narrative, this is a remarkably accessible and haunting film.

Though clearly well-intentioned, this cross-cultural soap opera is painfully formulaic and stilted.

Formulaic but not entirely predictable, it's like old-school Disney, but without Tim Conway.

The set-up revolves around a draggy love triangle, while the climax -- slo-mo leap through the air and all -- could have come out of any direct-to-video action flick.

None of this is any more fun as it sounds -- the cancer ward scenes are truly disturbing -- but to be fair, writer/director Lone Scherfeg (the first woman to make a Dogme 95 film) manages some black-humored laughs.

Formulaic but performed with some verve.

It's filled with great footage of what must have been a wild time behind the Iron Curtain, and the music itself speaks volumes.

Edward Klosinski's staid cinematography lends the film a feeling of late summer languor, a deceptive calm before a terrible storm. The spare, evocative piano soundtrack is by John Cale.

The resulting collaboration is a strange beast;

The film delivers what it promises: A look at the "wild ride" that ensues when brash young men set out to conquer the online world with laptops, cell phones and sketchy business plans.

This ORANGE is a lemon.

More of the same from Taiwanese auteur Tsai Ming-liang, which is good news to anyone who's fallen under the sweet, melancholy spell of this unique director's previous films.

This psychological sci-fi thriller was originally made as a 40-minute segment of an unrealized portmanteau picture, then expanded into a freestanding feature. That's probably why it's padded with shots of Olham running down corridors.

Fred Frith's lovely and subdued score is a perfect accompaniment.

No doubt captures some of the horror and the chaos of the actual situation, but it makes for a loud, often confusing, and always bloody two and a half hours.

Armstrong is fortunate to have the luminous Blanchett, who, along with her equally fine supporting cast, helps compensate for what the film lacks.

Penn's stark and unvarnished portrait of the challenged Sam makes even the hardest-to-swallow plot acceptable.

The widescreen photography is, however, quite beautiful, and the scenes of aerial combat thrillingly staged.