With splashy digital effects and punchy stuntwork, the solid T3 slides along enjoyably, but doesn't have the impeccable story and visual design of the previous entry.

Pulls out the stops, setting the gold standard for expensive, explosive summer blockbusters.

The screws tighten to an almost unbearable tension by season's end, when Dexter must answer the threats posed by Lundy, Doakes, and Lila without hurting anyone he loves—and preferably without losing his life or liberty.

Playful but inconsequential...the interpretation of Dick's intriguing concept is a street which mostly just dead-ends into noisy silliness.

One of Hollywood's all-time most appealing magic realist fantasies.

Strands good actors in mushy, movie-of-the-week material.

With fine acting all around, and Fincher's typically meticulous filmmaking engagingly, if coldly, transportive above and beyond Roth's mediocre script, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button bears examining.

Willfully stupid and obvious for most of its running time, this serial-killer thriller lulls the audience into one gasp-worthy, rug-pulling moment that, while stupid, isn't exactly obvious.

They say that still waters run deep. Suffice it to say that the waters of Without a Paddle are raging...a soggy embarrassment for all involved.

Sometimes all we really want from a movie is to spend some time with beloved actors.

It's this Star Trek's greatest stroke of genius to conceive of Kirk and Spock as two rebels looking for a cause...

That ultimate vulnerability of putting it all on the line through and for their art...is the beating heart of Bennett's work and Every Little Step's fine return to it.

The archetypal haunted house story might be more effective as a campfire story which takes ten minutes to tell...as a 90-minute movie, it's a crushing bore.

A full-fledged mutant jamboree, but one that blunts thematic and character development in favor of narrative expediency.

A next generation Eddie Haskell, Ferris Bueller redefined "cool" misbehavior for Generation X....Hughes has a knack for memorable set pieces.

Unlike the rest of the Class of '09 thus far, The Uninvited marches to an off-beat, and thank goodness for small favors.

Runs hot and cold, but mostly satisfies with its "upgraded" science-fiction razzle-dazzle.

The Last Kiss isn't afraid of exploding romantic conventions--um, at least not at first.

Zachary Quinto: 'There is an optimism that lives in the heart of this film and in the heart of the franchise that I think is a really great thing for us to be able to share with the world right now.'

Retrograde, sexist, and gleefully sadistic... pitiable and fearful in the language we go to the movies to learn. The old cop line 'There's nothing to see here' hardly applies.

Like Heathers with the edges filed down a bit...the kind of smooth, clever (and rare) entertainment that critics and audiences can all enjoy, guilt-free.

Arctic Tale isn't a documentary. They say it right there in the title, see? It's a tale.

The training was great...it was sort of like simulating the Starfleet Academy. And it just felt like we'd gone through something together.

Like his characters, Oshima is determined to explore and transgress sexual boundaries, if they even exist, by posing a challenge to conventional morality.

More of a mess than the pleasant surprise one might have hoped.

Even dog skeptics might be surprised how deftly Marley & Me adapts newspaper columnist John Grogan's book...into the equivalent of a kid's movie for adults.

Darren Aronofsky’s character study...[has in Mickey Rourke] an actor unusually in sync with a role, indeed what seems to be the role of his career.

A classic suspense film...also the screen equivalent of a classic existentialist drama...The chemical reaction Clouzot gets from these genres is pure dynamite.

Primo kids' stuff, but under-satisfying for adults.

Though in story The World Is Not Enough is not one of the best Bonds, pound for pound it delivers as much thrilling action as any of them.

Connery proved plenty fit for one more outing...a likeable but somewhat mediocre adventure handsomely mounted in the traditional Bond style...

You can't stop him or crop him/He's in widescreen and large/
He ain't playing when he's baggin' Curtis Hanson for Sarge...

Given the shortage of dancing and soaring vocal melodies...Minnelli must lean heavily on personality and a spectacle defined by the pageantry of historic locations, sets and costumes.

Most of all, 12 serves as a reminder of the ultimate responsibility one can take, for a human life. As Arthur Miller might have said, these men deciding the fate of a teenage boy are all his fathers.

The coup de grace comes in the form of Ginormica, a clever metaphor of figurative and literal female empowerment...Plus there’s lots of explosions.

Good to the last drop: the guilt-drenched final line is a prism revealing new facets of character and theme to ponder on the way out of the theater.

The most fascinating element of the film is its formal linking of its multiple, no-nonsense protagonists.

Guilty-pleasure action sequences...amped-up visuals and hearty, young stars...the problem is that the stilted dialogue and style-over-substance form seem instantly dated.

With its ballsy, bar-raising disregard of sense, this solid sequel mildly improves upon the original...summer movie camp 2 gleefully preposterous 2 be dismissed.

On par with the rest of the series....it's all fun and games until someone gets hurt, and then it's off the hook!

It’s wonderful for me to see it with audiences now because they just laugh, or they’re really scared or they’re really touched, you know? It’s got all the elements of the '50s movies, but with the added layer that it’s funny.

Vainly attempts to elevate Riddick into a mythological hero in a political-intrigue contest meant to be Dune in an action context, though it's a lot more like Stargate in a crap context.

A triumph for tireless dance advocate Kelly, the Freed Unit, and the American musical itself.

A masterpiece of mood...Donnie Darko is made less obscure—for better or worse—in Kelly's expanded director's cut.

A docudramatic TV movie at heart, and there's something unseemly about the film's inherently predictable build to Pearl's climactic grief.

This batch of fourteen episodes doesn't mess with a proven, winning formula: a balance of parody, satire, and Peanuts-esque observation about being a kid.

It's the workmanlike Forster who evinces a lack of feel for the material, shooting the kite competitions like WWI dogfights and applying an overbearing score by Alberto Iglesias.

A loving account of the literal and figurative romance of the stage, even under the most trying of social circumstances.

An enduring masterpiece...Truffaut's autobiographical fiction shows an admirable equanimity by depicting the highs and lows of boyhood.

The 22nd Bond film too often seems like an old friend on the wrong anti-depressant: still the person you love, but the rhythm's off and the precious moments fewer and further between.