The only thing a movie this unrefined needs is a vaudevillian in baggy pants and someone hawking peanuts in the aisle.

The movie feels more like a slightly longer episode of Disney's old "Winnie the Pooh" television series.

The movie isn't without style, but the material can't remotely sustain 100 minutes.

You keep waiting for there to be more, but there never is -- other than the fact that it all gets gorier and uglier as the dyspeptic look on Jones' face progresses from a four- to a six-a-day scotch-and-peppermint schnapps hangover.

As thrilling as the adventure sequences might be for kids, the better scenes take place on the high school campus.

The juxtaposition between the fast-paced plays on the soccer field and the color-drenched, music-infused wedding party is a highlight of this captivating film.

The interwoven stories are haunting, but also darkly funny.

Unfortunately, it's not one-tenth as interesting as what you can see at home during a nightly cable surf as U.S. war policy is debated.

It's also as good as "Out of Africa."

Compelling tale of a free-spirited record producer, played with perfect pitch by Frances McDormand.

Feels like a bad sitcom.

To cut Noe a break, it does become evident that he has a viable narrative concept. Told backward, á la "Memento."

Each actor does his own thing for his own audience demographic.

There's at least one plot element too many here; let your own taste determine which one. Yet until it dissolves into conventional melodrama during a climactic fracas, this fast-paced story is never less than watchable.

In lieu of a toga party, one scene treats us to an octogenarian fraternity member wrestling two topless townie lookers slathered in KY Gel. Hey, there's no stopping progress.

Soon, the audience feels its own sense of despair -- for a movie that might have worked but didn't.

You don't envy the three soldiers who get shot for desertion, but you do identify with their desire to flee.

Girls isn't fabulous, but you do feel its characters really have connected.

Offers up the absolute bare necessities of a sequel.

Kevin Smith shows up briefly as a lab technician in the miserable Daredevil, and that's a pity. This is a movie that desperately needs the presence of Smith's trademark sidekicks Jay and Silent Bob, with Smith as Bob, ragging worse than ever on his old pal Ben Affleck.

This genre-busting movie has the appearance of a love story but morphs into a thriller, told cleverly in a nonlinear style. Think "Sliding Doors" crossed with "The Sixth Sense," with a little "Memento" thrown in.

The star interplay and anachronisms recapture some of the surreal spirit of the Crosby-Hope Road movies, and the end-credit outtakes are funny enough to sustain that getting-hoary device for at least one more picture.

How to lose an audience in 10 minutes: Cobble together a predictable and forced romantic comedy that should have been funnier.

Agreeable and slipshod in equal fashion, The Guru illustrates the subtle distinction between stupidity and goofiness.

Though it's only 90 minutes, the film drags, making these not-so-easy riders pretty tough to watch.

A less-than-middling melodrama whose subject matter and talent never click as much as its credits portend.

That a group of creative people chose to direct their energies on this repulsive spectacle simply provokes disgust.

Amazingly, the film grows monotonous because Heller and Schmiderer can do nothing, via archival footage or even novel camera placements, to vary the program.