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A preposterous, expansive and self-conscious attempt to resurrect the historical spectacular.

A big, vacuous, sometimes exciting glamour-puss of a movie.

In uniting to honor Arenas, Bardem and Schnabel create something extraordinary.

Clearly this is Bardem's show. And Bardem walks away with it.

It brings a mordant, crackerjack wit to the world of chest-busting, head-ripping creepazoids from beyond.

It satisfactorily recycles the great surprises that made the first movie so powerful. And most significantly, it makes a big hoot of the whole business.

Style over content, sure, but what style...

[Features] a heartfelt romantic core and some handsome, acrobatic action sequences that do justice to Lee's undoubted martial mastery.

Talk Radio...is a nearly perfect example of how not to make a movie of a play.

It's midnight in America and there's a lot of angry people out there in the darkness. If that's the main point to Oliver Stone's Talk Radio, it's the only one.

Director Kathryn Bigelow comes closer than any other filmmaker to turning movies into a virtual reality trip.

Once the premise has lost its promise, and Fiennes's brave attempts at characterization are sacrificed to pseudo-dazzle, everything appears awfully humdrum and, yes, distinctly dated.

Messages, as Sam Goldwyn famously advised, are better left to Western Union.

A very impressive feature debut with this brutal western revenge thriller.

There isn't a boring shot anywhere, and writer-director Schnabel is clearly enjoying himself as he plays with expressionist sound, neo-Eisensteinian edits, and all sorts of other filmic ideas.

Even at half speed, Freeman excels: He knows how to whip out his badge at a crime scene and make it seem as if he had been doing it his whole life.

There are popcorn movies, and then there are movies like this one, which, by its conclusion, make you want to toss your empty popcorn bag at the screen.