John Turturro

Schwarzenegger's Brewer remarks, 'If I don't do it, it seems no one else will,' but that's a lousy excuse for...a multi-million dollar mistake like this one.

A reminder that Spike Lee is one of our great American filmmakers, unafraid to address, directly and artfully, contemporary issues in a context of national history.

The film finally resembles nothing so much as its most persistent symbol: an objet d'art crafted to impress with empty trickery.

Methinks the kids to whom this superhero movie will most appeal won't be able to separate the stereotypes from the political wishful thinking.

A scathing insider look at Hollywood...De Niro gives one of his most winning performances of recent years...

Never in the field of blockbuster movies has so much been spent on so little.

Director John Lasseter pushes the credo 'Story is king,' but the sequel to the 2006 hit Cars unwittingly abdicates the throne.

Even with its mock-pretentious parallelism to The Odyssey...O Brother, Where Art Thou? refuses to take itself seriously, which is both its principal failing and its charm.

Intensely juvenile, casually sexist, and blatantly stupid in ways that few if any over the age of 'T for Teen' or bereft of a Y chromosome could enjoy.

At times thuddingly earnest...at times, jazzily, goofily endearing...Turturro's romanticism keeps undercutting the humor before it has a chance to get satisfyingly irreverent. Call it comoedia interruptus.

A biblical epic in 2014 is a strange beast indeed, walking a fine line in the hopes of pleasing both the faithful...and those audiences more accustomed to secular myths.

The film works as well as it does on the strength of its acting. De Niro is in fine, grounded form, and his verbal sparring with Ramírez, [et al]...elevates the film, the overlapping dialogue highly effective in infusing naturalistic energy.

Military-Industrial Uncomplicated...Despite the theme that “Magic does exist” (“It was found long ago. Inside a crashed alien ship”), The Last Knight is all mirthless jokes and thrill-less mayhem.

Slate cements her status as a kind of later-day Lucille Ball, gifted in physical comedy and possessed of a dithering combination of smarts and free-flowing emotion.

While retaining requisite elements of blockbuster action cinema...decidedly shifts the focus to pulp fiction...The Batman feels more like a Batman story than a Batman movie, and that's an achievement in itself.