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She's All That feels like it could have been made by a team of septuagenarians from the glory days of American Intl. Pictures.

It's often impossible to distinguish what's meant to be cartoonish from what's meant to be dramatic, but the confusion seems appropriately adolescent.

Miyazaki's flying contraptions are a sight to behold, rivaled only by the film's epic sweep and nonstop parade of action set-pieces.

Liable to strain the patience of adults and the attention spans of children.

Welcome to the one of the best fourth parts of a horror franchise ever made.

Scream 4 is fun, but more clever-clever than fiendishly ingenious.

This slick and twisted effort should enjoy lengthy shelf life as a Halloween perennial.

As in most bad horror flicks, intimations of unspeakable evil are supposed to distract us from the yawning gaps in story logic and character motivation.

Even as the darkness closes in, there is never any real sense of dread. The slow-burning terror soon fizzles out, as does the damp squib of an ending.

From bumbling infants to majestic adults, a flock hasn't been this charismatic onscreen since Hitchcock went bird-watching.

The script fails to establish the likability of any of the main characters, which dulls the sense of urgency during the dramatic moments.

What ensues is a couple of days of confession and mild debauchery. It's all sketchy and banal.

Sweetie and An Angel at My Table have taught us to expect startling as well as beautiful things from Jane Campion, and this assured and provocative third feature (1993) offers yet another lush parable.

Campion never underestimates the power physical obsession exerts over human souls, and, for once, a modern film treats erotic passion honestly.