Colin Firth

Oscar winner Jim Broadbent turns up long enough to say, "I wish I was dead."

Thompson can't or won't diverge much from standard fairy-tale plotting, but enlivens the familiar situation comedy with some pleasingly tart lines.

Complete fluff, and proud of it...Once you adjust your senses, however, you're bound to submit to this vacation of a movie.

Tucker delivers a stroke of casting so perfect it might seem obvious: Oscar winner Jim Broadbent as the father and Colin Firth as the son.

A highly satisfying old-fashioned comedy-drama...[with] a strong undercurrent of religion and philosophy that helps Hunt make her film profound in a way that sneaks up on you.

A period piece that may play well with those who hate period pieces.

Call me a Scrooge, but I'll pass on this synthetic version of that most humanistic of tales.

A patient and never less than gripping character study that serves as a reminder of the emotional intimacy achievable on film.

Whether coolly dispatching a fly or eating a Wimpy burger with knife and fork, Oldman carefully makes every gesture part of his quiet revelation of character.

While it's not unpleasant, this Magic disappointingly fails to capture the imagination.

Doubles down on glib ultraviolence while pressing buttons of class-consciousness and teasing out pop-culture allusions and self-aware witticisms. But this time, the postmodernism feels played out.

As artless as it can be—and as thuddingly predictable about the baby’s parentage and whom Bridget will end up with—even grumps will admit to scattered amusing bits...and the likeability of Zellweger and Firth.

Attempts to thread the needle of a moving anti-war film in that narrow space between...[war as] thrill ride and the filmic wizardry that, when examined too closely, rings as hollow as a war machine rapped with a wrench.