Called everything from a feminist statement to a gay camp-classic to an anti-McCarthyism allegory. While it certainly is all of these--and more--it's about time it was acclaimed for it what it really is: a genuine western film classic.

While doing nothing to dispel the stereotype that skateboarding is the sport of brainless jackasses, Casey La Scala's directing debut does feature some nifty boarding action.

"We're not that different, but we're different from what you think we are," says 16-year-old Ebony, and no playwright could have said it better.

The film's much-vaunted stunts are deliberately unrealistic, from over-the-top wire-work to CGI-soccer balls that streak through the air like flaming cannon balls.

Surfing isn't inherently service to humanity; it's a sport whose grace and athleticism Brown captures thrillingly, and that should be enough.

Team M-I knows its way around James and ignores the lazy stereotype of Americans as gauche rubes bumbling around Paris like barbarians at the ballet in favor of sly digs at French and American mores alike.

Adventurous viewers will find this unusual genre hybrid an intriguing experience, and Donnie Yen's fight choreography is breathtaking.

Actor-turned-director Clark Johnson uses the flashy, up-to-the-minute editing and camera stunts action fans expect, but keeps the mayhem on a recognizably human scale — it's big, but not insanely overblown.

This seemingly placid community is slowly revealed to be tangle of interpersonal relationships defined by that essential rift that divides those who summer at the beach and those who remain behind at season's end.

Harmon and Murray are cardboard cutouts of ideal boyfriends; the only male performer allowed to shine is newcomer Ryan Malgarini, who nearly steals every scene he's in.

Both Robertson and Keuck are frighteningly good, and director Coccio imagines their home movies so effectively that his film comes dangerously close to being a how-to manual for aspiring classroom spree killers.

Generations of healthy spirits were twisted and deformed by the good Sisters of Mercy, all in the name of salvation.

When characters aren't quoting Alfred de Musset, they're speaking in aphorisms of their own, and the dialogue is stylized and stilted. Happily, Kaas, one of France's most popular jazz singers, has a sensuous, sonorous voice, and Lelouch uses it as often as possible; in many ways, the film is a musical.

Director Alan Rudolph, whose reputation rests on ensemble pieces, lets Scott's performance -- as skilled as his pyrotechnical turn in "Roger Dodger" (2002), but composed entirely of subtle notes -- anchor the film.

Hooking up can be as random, and as rewarding, as hitting the jackpot -- and helps makes "This Car Up" the best of a pretty good bunch.

Is this sophisticated humor? No. But it is pretty entertaining.

The spectacle of the near-naked Ricki (Lopez) striking sexually provocative yoga poses while floridly extolling the virtues of female genitalia is particularly mortifying, but it's only one of many horribly miscalculated scenes.

The brouhaha aside, this chronicle of SNAFUs foretold doesn't have much new to say but says it with biting precision, and Phoenix's sharp, sneakily sympathetic performance is a pleasure to watch.

This otherwise sober film's high ick factor is clearly designed to convince restless students that entomology is extremely cool.

A train wreck of a film whose chaotic, partly improvised story and too-tricky mix of film stocks, image sizes, split-screen effects and color/B&W footage overwhelm some phenomenally beautiful sequences and a memorable performance by Saffron Burroughs.

Imagine "The Full Monty" without any of the feel-good uplift, and you'd be pretty close to capturing what this bitter -- and often bitterly funny -- film from Spain is all about.

Overall it's a harmless disappointment, hampered by the thin story and a surprisingly dreary looking video-game setting, heavy on the floating platforms, cartoony future-cityscapes and goofy gadgetry.

Simply a series of set pieces designed to insure Angelina Jolie's status as action-babe pin-up.

The movie's secret weapons are its stellar cast, whose performances go a long way to ameliorating Ross's ham-fisted use of foreshadowing and symbols, and its brilliantly shot racing sequences -- they're heart-stoppingly suspenseful even when the outcome is a matter of record.

A sentimental look at love and middle-aged discontent thinly disguised as a comic adventure story.

The pressure often shows: For all its charm, the dramatic moments are awkward and the final act feels rushed and under rehearsed.

Though Dylan shuffles through the dramatic sequences like a dessicated mummy, the music sequences are strikingly vibrant -- he's never looked worse or sounded better.

Brilliantly edited from well over 100 hours of tape, the final two-hour film recalls Michael Apted's 7 UP series.