The 1992 phenomenon was creepy, tense and sexually charged in a bold yet tawdry way. This sequel lacks even a shred of those elements.

Should warm viewers' hearts globally.

Slither is old-school gooey, slimy, silly B-movie fun.

The story is corny and predictable, but Carlyle's subtle, nuanced performance saves the movie from drowning in sentimentality.

Inside Man may be a cat-and-mouse game, but it's far from predictable. What could have been a straightforward thriller is unusually clever, visually captivating and unfailingly entertaining.

Glaringly lacking in the film are any original Stones songs. The group, who fired Jones just before his death, must not have thought much of the movie if they didn't allow their music to be used. Smart fellows.

This is a perfectly pleasant, entertaining and often witty romp with engaging performances.

Visually exhilarating, provocative and disturbing.

The razor-sharp satire Thank You for Smoking is the wittiest dark comedy of the year thus far. It has appeal to all sides of the political spectrum.

Has strong performances, but the story takes too long to get off the ground. And once it does, it is told in a way that occasionally drags and goes off in meandering directions.

The premise is misbegotten, the chemistry non-existent and the dialogue leaden. Did we mention how tediously the plot unfolds?

Nothing is right about this ridiculous horror schlockfest.

May not make you howl, but it does offer a few bona fide belly laughs.

Though the film offers a meticulously rendered Depression-era L.A., it's not in the same league as "Chinatown," for which Towne wrote an Oscar-winning script. Here, the characters seem shallow, their motivations murky.

Willis' performance mystifies, while Mos Def's mesmerizes.

Despite corny one-liners and plot developments that don't always hold water, Aquamarine rises above the flotsam filling theaters this time of year with a likable tale of friendship and charming performances.

Besides being filled with Chappelle's hilarious sense of humor, the movie features life-affirming messages and great music by serious rap artists with political, socio-cultural and spiritual themes.

Joyeux Noël is gritty and disturbing with its extended scenes of war and destruction. It also is emotional, even a touch sentimental.

Though the story teeters on easy sentimentality, it doesn't succumb. Though unabashedly emotional, it isn't maudlin. Tsotsi's story feels believable. It is made all the more engaging by a wonderful soundtrack of African Kwaito music.

A potential howler done in by a tendency to wear too much body tissue on its sleeve.

Walker is adorable, but gives a one-note performance. Greenwood, a charismatic and unsung character actor, has the most noteworthy human performance as a somewhat arrogant academic whose decency keeps him from becoming a stock villain in a formulaic story.

Steer clear of Freedomland, the movie. Your time would be better spent reading Richard Price's much more compelling 1998 novel.

The film's mythology is a bit dodgy, and the dialogue is standard issue, but the over-the-top action sequences are occasionally fun, if gory. Ultimately, it's a formulaic, predictable take on a Hollywood staple: the vampire horror film.

George is cute, and the simple story has its entertaining moments.

Movies of this genre don't often engage fresh concepts, but you have to give Wong major points for dreaming up "tan-line flambé."

Firewall might be worth renting on an inclement weekend when the pickings are slim. It does have some tense moments - even if some of the technical plot points don't quite scan. But, overall, it just feels like a rehash.

Transforming Clouseau's perennial nemesis into a more urbane smoothie, Kevin Kline delivers like a pro.

The mesmerizing, heart-tugging concert film Heart of Gold confirms Neil Young's stature as a national treasure.

For the most part, Wilde's sophisticated, sardonic dialogue has been capably adapted by screenwriter Howard Himelstein and director Mike Barker.

The story's presentation is easy to take. And lot of this is because of Lathan, who is funny by not trying to be.

Bubble is a haunting film, made all the more intriguing by the use of ordinary people, not actors, in all the roles.

A hopeless if harmless boxing picture whose principals just happen to wear uniforms outside the ring, Annapolis is set in a U.S. Naval Academy where no one ever seems to attend class.

This could be the start of an awful new genre: Nannies Gone Wild.

The film's look, fashioned by production designer Michael Howells, is noteworthy for its vibrant colors and fantastical feel.

A year ago next week, Debra Messing's "The Wedding Date" arrived DOA. And now this. In terms of movies that matter, it looks as if the wedding-funeral motif will continue.

The movie is more compelling than exciting with one exception: the kind of rocket blast-off sequence for which IMAX screens were seemingly invented.

Albert Brooks may have come up with the funniest movie premise of the year in Looking for Comedy in the Muslim World.

The result isn't quite a Michael Moore movie without the hubris, but it's reasonably close. It's thoughtful, and you have to take it seriously and with respect.

At least a more satisfying basketball saga than last year's "Coach Carter."

The movie clichés are bearable mainly because the cast rises above the formulaic material. There are also some bona fide laughs to be had once the setting switches to a luxurious resort in the Czech Republic.

James Franco is a gorgeous, smoldering lover in Tristan & Isolde, but you can't help being reminded of Ben Stiller's "Zoolander" character.

Proof that Allen, who many have dismissed with his last few forgettable films, is still a filmmaking force.

There's no substitute for bad taste. And this one has it double-barreled, both in the timing of its release and as a movie, one said to be loosely based on fact.

Casanova is an entertaining if silly romp, with amusing dialogue, gorgeous production design and painterly cinematography. Venice, where the movie is set, has never been so breathtaking.

The story, though initially intriguing, is dicey. A seminal social satire has been spun off into a passionless romance and a wan comedy.

Pocahontas catching us off-guard with an impromptu cartwheel isn't the knock-you-down brainstorm of Naomi Watts juggling for King Kong, but it's still deliciously inspired. Trouble is, the bit lasts two seconds, while the movie is a long "might have been" that's doomed to be buried in a flurry of strong late-year releases.

Pierce Brosnan is the anti-Bond in The Matador. And though he's anything but suave, sophisticated or debonair, he's a joy to behold.

This is a smart and often tense work whose ultimate merit isn't completely calculable now.

Caché is unsettling and tense, even shocking. And its story of enduring tensions between an Algerian immigrant and a well-off French family is particularly timely.

Knoxville is functional only when the movie needs a bravura comic performance, but The Ringer is easy enough to take.

Give Dozen a slight edge to the mournful "Yours, Mine & Ours" as a holiday season bottom-feeder, because Martin and Levy are better at slapstick than Dennis Quaid.

There's really not much fun to be had with Dick and Jane - or anyone else in this anemic comedy.

The film takes a long time to unfold, and some scenes feel inert. But ultimately, the conclusion is moving and satisfying.

As stuffed with beguiling performances - some of them unexpectedly good - as its script is overstuffed. And though even the beguiled may feel manipulated the next morning (or when hitting the exits), the players put it over by a nose. Happy holidays.

Enough is enough. Somebody should just stop remaking The Producers.

Why would a distributor suddenly yank an animated family film from its intended wide December opening until mid-January? Could it be that the advance word of mouth wasn't very good-winked?

Jackson is a visionary filmmaker who is not only a technical wizard but also a master storyteller. With Jackson at the helm, you would expect dazzling special effects and epic action sequences, but what is most surprising is how heartfelt the romance feels.

Memoirs of a Geisha is like a sumptuous piece of silk: stunning yet ultimately flimsy. You wish it were more like a kimono, richly woven, multilayered and more substantial.

It's a heart-wrenching portrayal of unfulfilled Wyoming love, but this time, we don't mean Alan Ladd and Jean Arthur in "Shane."

It says something that during a scene in which nude chorines are turned into a fleshy backdrop, you spend as much time looking at your watch as what's on screen.

An engaging and exciting family film that at times feels a bit like "The Lord of the Rings Jr."

Slogs pokily along and never quite picks up speed.

Huffman is a woman playing a man playing a woman, which is easily the year's most complicated turn. She does a fine, nuanced job in bringing to life a character that could have become a caricature.

Because snowboarding is younger than skateboarding and surfing, Descent lacks the poignancy of past surfer/skateboarder portraits that have shown participants reaching middle age.

Ice Harvest's plot sounds like an antidote to the season's holiday sweetness. And it's being touted as this year's Bad Santa. But the only similarities are the holiday season, the criminal milieu and Thornton.

Still, there are some funny surprises, from skewering overdone Christmas decorations to casting Chris Klein as a creep.

With heavy HIV subtext and a couple of actors who have scored in other films, this La Bohème spinoff about fatal illness, drug addiction and eviction ought to be less of a slog than it is.

As an artsy but minimally bohemian type, Russo maintains her dignity, an extraordinary accomplishment.

If your idea of a good time is watching a disjointed period piece featuring a scrawny dog defecating, dozens of dissipated people fornicating and a syphilitic Johnny Depp with oozing pustules on his face, The Libertine may be just the movie for you.

A gripping and fascinating tale of political intrigue that spans three continents, its focus trained on the volatile Middle East. It's a global portrait of danger, deception and disillusionment, with no dearth of human casualties.

It's hard to beat the last movie, "Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban," and this film is not better, but it has much to recommend it.

A Johnny Cash biopic equally packed with music and frustrated love, Walk the Line goes from compelling to enthralling.

Murphy's breathy, high voice as Kitten feels forced, but not nearly as much as the film's efforts to be both whimsical and weighty.

Clumsy, miscast thriller.

Tim Robbins plays the working dad, and the movie misses him once he bails out early.

This Pride & Prejudice is a stellar adaptation, bewitching the viewer completely and incandescently with an exquisite blend of emotion and wit.

Based on the captivating novel by Myla Goldberg, Bee Season is evocative and superbly acted.

She has been compared to Lenny Bruce because of her incendiary topics, but Silverman's style, capitalizing on her innocent smile and good looks, is her own.

Movie stardom is seductive, but 50 Cent and his fans will be best served if he sticks to to his day job.

With one of the year's busiest scripts, Little launches 76 zippy minutes.

What we're left with is solid if not exceptional, though it's good to see Mendes expanding as a filmmaker.

Of all things, this movie has the same problem "Ghostbusters 2" had, which is this: You can't take bigger-than-life screen types and toss them into everyday, regular-folk situations.

Despite its title, Prime is not a cut above. This romantic comedy's predictability and rather dull love story make it the cinematic equivalent of a slightly stale hamburger.

Whether we're talking this go-round, the original or the second sequel the finale seems to promise, I'd rather try standing drunk on a see-saw (though maybe not over dirty syringes) than see Saw.

This is one glum outing, with occasional pings of wry wit and hearty chuckles.

For a big-screen disposable, Doom has a few jolts, a few good laughs and an attractive female lead to whom you want to say, "What's a nice girl like you doing on a Mars like this?"

Fanning and Russell make this watchable family entertainment, if not necessarily at today's prices.

The film ultimately lets Mirabelle down and leaves the viewer dissatisfied. A "Lost in Translation" drained of its wryly observed humor, Shopgirl is worth a browse. But it isn't always easy to buy.

All three actors give it their all, but Monaghan stands out with a sexy yet oddly down-to-earth variation on the Midwest girl gone wrong, thanks partly to a dark dysfunctional family secret.

You can't accuse this film of bogging down in cheap psychology, yet you come out dissatisfied and without a clue about what made this person tick.

Though it's no fiasco -- there's nothing mythic about its disjointed story -- it is a failure.

Stilted film squanders an intriguing premise.

The milieu here is unforgiving, which makes fighting for basic rights important. You get a sense of why Bob Dylan -- who performs on this soundtrack -- wanted to bolt this frigid part of the map.

Not for the faint-hearted.

The only things missing from making this showdown worthy of a Western is Murrow's sheriff's badge, a dusty street and maybe a spittoon for McCarthy's infamous invectives.

This is the most enjoyable film of its type in recent memory.

McConaughey will never be an actor who lets you into his soul, but he's credible as a good ole boy.

Geared to 16-year-olds who can't name the governor of their state, this movie ought to be closed down by the health department.