Catherine O'Hara

Some sort of Martian comedy hell I was doomed to misunderstand...like watching Ben Affleck burn Stanislavsky in effigy for ninety minutes.

Are Guest and Levy scared of biting the hand that feeds or simply out of touch? In either case, the answer can't be good.

A twisted revamp of Rankin-Bass by way of Edward Gorey.

Its dull colors and folk-rock soundtrack...attempt to achieve the oft-chased feel of '70s cinema--in this case, Hal Ashby or Mike Nichols. It's a game try, but the transparently schematic result too often gets under the skin in the wrong way.

Flipping the cautionary themes of Mary Shelley’s original source material, Frankenweenie plays out as a primarily pro-science parable...goes out of its way to encourage free-thinking square pegs to avoid gaping round holes.

Hums along nicely as it diagnoses what Dr. Judith calls 'the least-parented, least-nurtured generation—ever.' It's funny without being broad, thanks to a fine ensemble...