It's somewhat more energetic than the previous year's Breaking Training, and the Japanese locations are a plus, but so much silliness has been substituted for the solid situations and characterizations of the original that it's hard to believe the same people had anything to do with both pictures.

There are a few laughs from Grodin and Cannon, but Beatty and Christie are like 400-pound gorillas chasing a milkweed seed. The more Beatty concentrates, the more glazed and distracted he looks.

Kristofferson's performance is as monotone as his singing, showing few changes in dramatic emphasis. Unmotivated story riddled with confusion and disarray.

You just can't hate anything this energetic and happy.

More a remake than a sequel, this production seems like a pointless effort. With a plot virtually identical to that of the first film, the only real difference between the two--and it is significant--is that Spielberg didn't direct this one.

As in the Friday the 13th movies the only real interest here is observing the outrageous lengths filmmakers go to in devising "Can-you-top-this?" murders.

A fine Disney product scripted by cartoonist Key, who is also credited with Gus and The $1,000,000 Duck.

All in all a very funny movie with enough solid, believable story to take it beyond the realm of teenage summer fare.

Overlong but interesting thriller.

Although Brown (Endless Summer) captured the beauty and fun of his favorite sport in his "surfumentaries," Milius, whose work always seems underlain with weighty symbolic intent, infuses Big Wednesday with heavy-handed philosophy and all-around stupidity.

Busey did all his own singing and playing, as did Martin and Stroud as The Crickets, providing a welcome sense of realism. Busey's performance is terrific.

Martin is a shocking, thoughtful reworking of the vampire myth set in a dying American steel town. Well worth a look for anyone with even a passing interest in horror, and essential viewing for serious fright fans.

The film veers wildly from decent black comedy to dumb slapstick, and director Reynolds seems unsure of his own intentions. In a few places this film is quite funny, however, although De Luise and all the scenes he's in are unbearable.

Beautiful photography from Kovacs and an excellent acting job by Stallone.

This is silly stuff, and the gooey special effects make it ever sillier. Director Girdler--who died in a helicopter crash before the film was released--does a respectable job of making it all look rather slick and professional, but the big budget and all-star cast only add to the overall absurdity.

From a technical perspective, it's undoubtedly the most impressive and authentic concert film ever made.

After slowly introducing the characters, the film accelerates pace. Directer Zemeckis handles comedy well.

Another one of those movies that was more of a "deal" than it was a picture.

This story, directed and cowritten by Joan Rivers, had been done before and somewhat better by Frenchman Jacques Demy in the 1973 film A SLIGHTLY PREGNANT MAN.

Beautifully shot and subtly rendered, but too slowly told for its ambiguities to really be effective.

The film starts in midbattle and scarcely slows up--a good thing, too, because the few slack spots are heavy-handed mystical interludes without a trace of humor.

Straight Time is a powerful film that shows a criminal as he is. The film has no tired explanations for Hoffman's behavior, no fingers are pointed, no apologies or excuses are offered.

A pleasant comedy, but any film starring Matthau and Jackson--and written by such funny men as Shulman and Epstein (among others)--should have been much funnier.

The film bogs down, however, because of De Palma's penchant for technically slick but overblown action scenes that call attention to themselves as virtuoso set pieces instead of advancing the narrative.

The kids will love all the visual gags in this pleasing if lightweight Disney film.

Set in the New York milieus Mazursky knows so well, AN UNMARRIED WOMAN has some great insights and is superbly acted by all involved. The director populates the film with his usual, very real and attractive modern characters, but you may think it cops out in the end.

Not only is this truly sick stuff, but the production is so low-budget, and the photography so muddy, that a sense of ultrasleaze prevails.

What does work in Coming Home are the small, human, unguarded moments. The performances, undeniably appealing, were deservedly praised, Dern and Voight coming off best.