A movie for adolescents, and adults who willfully decide not to know better for a couple of hours.

Explores the rapture and torture of desire, and the tension between harsh reality and escapist fantasy.

Insanely subversive...functions as a visually dazzling science-fiction action picture, a philosophical challenge, and a hilarious, incisive comedy.

Ford gives one of his most commanding performances outside of a Lucas production, establishing an action formula Ford would repeat...

As for the film's suspense credentials, you know it's time to get tense when James Earl Jones intones, 'Mother of God.'

Though this political adventure requires substantial suspension of disbelief, the witty script and mature approach keep the film on track.

A latter-day Abbott and Costello flick, where the monster they encounter isn't Frankenstein, but the Bush Administration.

Overplayed: there are entirely too many beaming smiles and emotional flip-outs...the only reason to see this movie is Foster, whose overplaying somehow succeeds at charming where her costars fail.

'This night is about the American dream,' Kumar promises. And you know what? It sort of is.

Remains the gold standard for the TV miniseries format...stands among the best Western films ever made.

Proyas assembles his inspirations into a unique amalgam with the power of myth to tap the fears and desires of our collective unconscious.

A ridiculous though not entirely unpleasant way to while away ninety-two minutes.

The film's bloated ambition seems of a piece with its panting, happy-dog charm.

An unpretentious pulp adventure...

With its cool cast and classic kiss-off ending, The Lost Boys will forever be a cultural touchstone of '80s cinema.

Whatever your taste, you'll have to agree: Shine a Light is music and cinema writ large.

A bold and convincing effort to dramatize contemporary political history.

An exploitation picture given the 'A' treatment... Putting aside the nagging liberties taken with Anneliese Michel's experiences...[it's] a good scary movie.

Take it from this loss prevention specialist: don't play 21.

A reasonably well-made low-end pic that serves as a cautionary tale for callow teens.

Watchable...[but] a time-waster, with an insulting ending that unfortunately takes it down a few pegs.

Competent but somewhat slack, modest (and modestly budgeted) shocker that doesn't work quite hard enough to justify its plot mechanics.

Despite the bogus conflict...Step Up 2 The Streets is amiable enough...

The show remains on solid footing, with a writing staff still spinning crafty mysteries and inventing scenarios to get under the skin of Tony Shalhoub's obsessive-compulsive police consultant Adrian Monk.

Wilson proves again that he's a quick-witted comedic treasure—he's the sort of actor who gets hired to make mediocre movies almost good by his sheer force of comic will.

Consistently stylish, dumb, and entertaining.

You have a rendezvous with Dirty Harry's 62-year-old ass! And if you don't know what that means, you'd better figure it out!

The impact is all in the broad strokes of Scorsese's design: the corresponding coming-of-age stories of three confused and violent adolescents: Amsterdam Vallon, New York City, and America.

After the wayward kids' stuff of [Kids' WB's] The Batman, Batman: Gotham Knight's adult tone and visual wonderment are like (Bat-)manna from heaven.

Asks us to believe the terrorists would, after slaughtering countless people, risk their entire plan—and their very lives—on...well, I won't say. But from my vantage point, it was ridiculous.

Profane, hallucinogenic, and wickedly satirical, Oliver Stone's Natural Born Killers mainlined a message from hell (a.k.a. modern America, as seen by Stone) into mall theatres and multiplexes.

Persepolis is so satisfying because it works on a few complimentary levels: as a coming-of-age story tracking innocence to experience, as an accounting of revolutionary and feminist struggles, and as an artful visual experience in cartoon form.

For a movie about magical beasts, The Spiderwick Chronicles does an awfully good job of pegging childhood emotional realities, particularly in a context of divorce.

Like his wee alter ego, ten-year-old Huey Freeman, McGruder sees himself as hopefully out of step with society—radical, in fact—self-confident, and determined to effect change by any means necessary.

Among the best of the summer movie blockbusters, Men in Black comes on like gangbusters and never lets up.

Harmless but seriously wit-deficient.

The delirious idiosyncracies of the '60s Batman are all on display...a pleasant-enough romp that's just a little too-distracted with its new toys.

If Jumper too often feels like a special-effects demo reel in search of a story, at least the eye candy is pretty darn sweet.

Veteran director Stuart Gordon guts us with dark satire and twists the knife...[this] horror fable is enough to make weary gorehounds sit up at attention.

By crafting a serious-minded character study, the filmmakers bring us closer to understanding the enigmatic artist's inspiration and desperation: a life that spun out of control.

The ad copy for Grant Gee's 2007 Joy Division calls it "the definitive documentary on Joy Division," and given the roster of participants, it seems a reasonable claim.

Anderson's most mature and ambitious film yet...[though his] growth as a filmmaker remains hindered by an obsession with effect and a disinterest in depth.

A bio-epic on the order of Lawrence of Arabia, Patton is a smart, fully realized historical film.

A fine old-school picture...elevated further by its progressive themes.

Though the film makes a few egregious historical changes for dramatic effect, The Longest Day pretty much lives and dies by its scale.  

Attenborough consistently reinforces the horrors of war by depicting not only the disasterous military engagements and their toll on heroes, but also the witless political decisions that led to needless, excessive loss of life.

Succeeds in giving the general impression of a pivotal historical moment, and excels in crafting some of the most astonishing aerial-warfare sequences ever put on film.

Two years after Match Point, Allen delivers another London-set murder melodrama, with diminishing returns.

Harold Prince's original staging remains the gold standard, but John Doyle offers an intriguing alternative on Sondheim's ode to commitment anxiety.

The visions, the menagerie of women and the horrid behavior of Tommy Gavin suggest a lewd FDNY variation on 8 1/2, and one that's still going plenty strong after four thirteen-episode seasons.