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Too formlessly turgid.

The acting is what makes this picture worth framing.

Trite is hardly the word for the plot, which was already wheezy by the time this minor classic was made in 1947, but Abraham Polonsky's script brings such tight, painful focus to the moral choices that it seems fresh and real.

Garfield's bullish performance saves the movie from its stagy moments and episodic script.

This thing is so silly and so ridiculous.

Freundlich ... directs his first big studio film on autopilot, trudging through the motions and displaying little understanding of what appeals to young 'uns.

Entering the main flow of the story relatively late, Don Cheadle steals all his scenes as a live-wire, trigger-happy old buddy of Easy's from Texas, while Sizemore and Mel Winkler, as colorful underworld figures, make strong impressions.

Sheer pleasure.

Unlike its grittily romantic predecessors, Flashdance is pure glitz.

Flashdance might be considered one of the first signs of Hollywood's Apocalypse.

The results are mainly awful, and even Roth got saddled with a mannered part that he can't comfortably play.

Four of the hottest indie directors--Anders, Rockwell, Tarantino, and Rodrigues--miss a unique opportunity to display their idiosyncratic talents resulting in a tedious anthology in which 2 segments are inept, one barely decent, and one OK (guess whose)