Allen Daviau's photography is exceptional; Quinn, Mueller-Stahl, and Plowright give commendable performances. Ultimately, though, Levinson's very personal project never acquires a personality of its own.

Irons's canny performance dominates the film. He plays the role with apparent frankness and dignity rather than melodramatic villainy.

Part of the problem is its length; at two hours and ten minutes it meanders rather than building up a head of steam and barreling straight through logic and plausibility on the way to Hell.

WELCOME HOME ROXY CARMICHAEL is less a movie than it is an example of what the studios refer to as "product," the kind of toothless comedy that features big stars in frenetic and forgettable farces.

To a post-Vietnam War generation put off by militarism, David Puttnam's inspiring account of the final and most-harrowing WWII mission of the B-17 bomber The Memphis Belle may seem hopelessly dated, but older viewers are likely to find much to enjoy in the film.

Mr. Destiny is by no means a good movie, but James Belushi is unquestionably a good actor, and his portrayal of Larry Burrows almost makes the film worth watching.

Any attempt to obscure the names of those involved in the making of this fiasco can only be construed as an act of mercy. Troll 2 is really as bad as they come.

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.

Those bothered by crunching violence and plot lapses won't find much here to enjoy, but action fans will find it delivers just about all they want from a film.

Kaufman tries to project a kind of professorial sobriety, hoping his film will seem classy and serious instead of raunchy. We think it could've used more raunch, and we're sure Henry Miller (whose favorite film was L'AGE D'OR) would have agreed.

Taken as a whole, the film is dragged down by the same old incoherent plotting and characters, driven by the same old half-baked machismo and mealy-mouthed misogyny that have come to define Cimino the auteur. As a result, and despite the efforts of Rogers and Hopkins, Desperate Hours is more than a title; it's a description of a movie-going experience.

Jane Campion has established a reputation for making slightly off-center films in which regular folks get glimpses of the darkness that lurks beneath the surfaces of their lives. An admirer of Frame's novels since she was a teenager, Campion builds her film around a heroine who defies Hollywood conventions; she's not beautiful or sexy or sophisticated, and her adventures are mostly intellectual.

Alternately grim, playful, and gripping, PACIFIC HEIGHTS breathes new life into what was becoming a moribund genre.

As movies go, it's far from perfect, but it's always human.

To his credit, writer-cinematographer-director Peter Hyams (RUNNING SCARED) doesn't pretend he's reinventing the wheel here--he just sees to it that all the pieces are in place and that there aren't too many opportunities for the premise to trip over its own implausibilities.

Visually, State of Grace joins Miller's Crossing as one of the best-looking movies in ages. But, as it nears its bloody ending, the film just gets dumber and dumber.

Although Death Warrant resorts to several familiar plot devices, its storyline is a little more complex than those of most films of this genre. Moreover, secondary characters like Hawkins and Priest are believable and likable enough that we care what happens to them.

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.

The only really good thing that can be said about REPOSSESSED is that it makes Exorcist II look like a classic. To hell with it.

Although billed as a sci-fi film, HARDWARE is unquestionably a horror. In his calculated enthusiasm to shock, first-time writer-director Richard Stanley has filled the screen with gratuitous violence and psychosexual perversion but failed to present a plausible, reasonably coherent plot.

Postcards is a mixed bag. There are a number of entertaining moments; however, potentially rich characters and situations wither from lack of development for the sake of the central relationship, which is never wholly convincing.

Scorsese's rich tapestry is both broader in scope and more detailed than a mere recounting of the events in the trio's life of crime.

For Western viewers unfamiliar with Hong Kong gangster films, there's no better introduction.

Director James Foley and cinematographer Mark Plummer deftly conjure the sense of stifling containment that drives these characters to drink or sin, but Robert Redlin's screenplay fails to fully animate their personalities. Patric gives a tremendous, smoldering performance, but Ward fails to convey the mysterious radiance of a convincing femme fatale. Dern rounds out the unappetizing triangle with an unpleasant performance, proving himself a worthy contender in the Dennis Hopper/Harry Dean Stanton creepstakes.

Despite its ample flaws, Men at Work is never boring and often is a lot of fun; however, it would have benefitted from the pruning of a few of its misfired visual gags, particularly those involving excrement.

The Witches weaves many classic childhood fears into its entertaining--and genuinely eerie--action.

Bad teen film unredeemed by aspirations toward significance.

Exorcist III may not have the visceral impact of the first film, but it gives viewers far more than they had any reason to expect.