The main reason to see Bandits is celebrity actors riffing with each other. That's not a bad reason, though. These two actors are also skillful comedians.

Now the movie can be seen for what it was all along, remarkable by any standards.

Watching this surrealist silliness, I would have welcomed the sight of a geezer on a riding mower.

My First Mister, which was written by Jill Franklyn, watches Jennifer with lively interest, but rarely pierces the mysteries of her soul.

Proves to be a remarkably lean and incisive film about the fateful power of sexuality.

There's plenty of scary pleasure to be had from this clever, compact thriller.

Training Day can be simplistic, formulaic and absurdly melodramatic -- but Mr. Washington is flat-out great.

Serendipity is "Sliding Doors" with no alternate versions; it's willed enchantment all the way.

Readily accessible, slyly subversive and perfectly delightful film.

This film is extraordinary on several counts: its knowledge of an arcane trade (Mr. Cohen ran his family's diamond business after his father died); its fondness for telling good life stories; and, above all, its superb starring performance.

This noirish, sourish thriller left me unmoving as well as unmoved.

It's a diverting mess, sometimes even a delightful mess.

The movie is pleasant enough, in its studied way, and Mr. Hopkins does as well as anyone could in the role of a wise man with vaguely supernatural powers. Still, it's awfully amorphous and pokey.

A marvelous story.

How could a major studio -- in this case 20th Century Fox -- put its name on a production with a dim-bulb, tone-deaf script that piles howler on howler? Why couldn't someone save poor Ms. Carey from herself?

It may be lulling to know, almost from the outset, where the plot is going, but thrilling -- or even psychological -- it is not.

The vision of office work that's offered up by Haiku Tunnel is as chilling as it is funny.

The deeper problem with Rock Star is its insistence on turning a heavy-metal fairy tale into a morality tale that's as heavy as lead.

Terrifically funny and remarkably wise, a comedy that speaks volumes, without a polemical word, about the tension between rigid politics of any stripe and the imperatives of life and love.

A turgid recycling of Mr. Carpenter's remake of "The Thing."

Fresh and flip and enjoyable, it's a sci-fi-tinged romantic comedy that I urge you to seek out.

The movie isn't terrible -- a few clever notions snap to life and pay off, at least modestly -- but it's dispirited and eventually dispiriting, a force-fed farce that falls far short of fascination.

I wish I'd brought a pair of peas to the screening. Then I could have taken in the glorious scenery without the dumb dialogue, which is delivered in a jangle of accents that makes a mockery of ethnicity.

This ripoff, directed by Jerry Zucker, has a few funny moments, but it's a sad sad sad sad example of what Hollywood is currently serving up -- and what audiences are swallowing -- as summer entertainment.

Lacks both taste and flavor.

A genuinely eccentric comedy that explodes with funny ideas and expresses most of them in wildly original animation.

Pulls you in with smooth assurance, then holds you hostage to extremely creepy developments in the most awesome haunted house since "The Shining."

You can't take your eyes off Ms. Kidman; she has never played a role with more focused energy.