Flaws are outweighed by Crash's intricate construction and intelligent.

Though the journey ends on some fun notes after a sagging middle, Galaxy never fully breaks out.

At least this movie seems more aware of its trashiness than "National Treasure" was. It's therefore freer to have some off-the-cuff fun the way Steven Seagal's more tolerable vehicles once did.

With major stars, a name director and grown-up subject matter, this middling drama is less a movie to recommend with vigor than to covet on general principles.

The chuckles here come from the leads' interplay, crying on each other's shoulders and cheering each other up.

The film's most climactic moments involve the chilling audiotapes of avaricious Enron traders as they toy with California's energy crisis, wringing millions in profits from the misfortune of an entire state.

But Game really isn't a performer's movie. And the climactic contest (in which the Americans amazingly eked out a 1-0 win against England, considered by many to be the world's finest team at the time) is only serviceably staged.

In this Amityville, the performances are bad, the special effects ho-hum, and it's not even particularly scary.

The movie tries to be both comical and touching, as befitting the coming-of-age genre. But it feels forced, derivative and sometimes sappily sentimental.

The film clocks in at under two hours, but the last 20 minutes feel like 40.

By contrast, other Hornby screen adaptations are "About a Boy" and "High Fidelity"- superb comedies both and, in Fidelity's case, a treatise on male obsession with far more depth and even more laughs.

Hustle's approach to a simple good-vs.-evil plot is eccentrically exuberant.

Occasionally very funny, the picture tends to coast on its cosmetics. A first-rate script might have made it a twisted masterpiece.

The plot progression can be guessed early on, but the film is more about humor and heart than a clever story.

A succession of tired race jokes made worse by the bad comedic timing of the bland, under-talented Ashton Kutcher.

But even by the dull standards of movies so far this year, it seems mighty piffling.

Sporadically amusing but sometimes slogging.

Parents and kids should be heartened to see a G-rated movie that is not dumbed-down or saccharine-sweet. Rather, it's subtly inspiring.

Watts has proven herself a Lady of the Rings, but twice is enough. No burning need for a trilogy.

Smart, satisfying and compact but so modest in scale that only true-blue fans will sense - immediately - that it's Woody Allen's best outing in many years.

Hostage is really about sleek Bruce - buff, bald and clean-shaven - as he goes to town on two sets of assailants.

The voice talent behind Robots reads like a who's who of comic actors...But too much reliance is placed on their star power and not enough on an interesting and fresh idea.

The primary upside to The Upside of Anger is the presence of Joan Allen in the lead role.

Mostly avoids being cloying but flirts with being precious. Yet Boyle is enough of a stylist to make it all passable. It's one of those films for which fans and detractors can see the others' viewpoint.

Boorman's troubles usually come from going over the top (atop Exorcist II, there's always Zardoz). But this is one of his few misfires that almost anyone would call tepid.

Despite a cast and production that seem to promise one of the year's first movies of any note, Cool never translates its promo-photo flashiness into authenticity on screen.

The Jacket is a confused attempt at headiness that feels like a poor man's "Memento."

Low on Diesel fuel, though probably amusing enough if you're part of the intended demographic, which appears to be the age group that likes to stick fingers up noses.