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The most even-keeled, pleasant and mainstream movie Jim Carrey has made in many a moon.

Numbingly predictable and not as filled with action as the misleading poster suggests.

It's the sort of movie I admire more in retrospect than I did while watching it.

I liked the seriousness with which it has been made, the willingness to grant deep feeling to its young characters, and the way it avoids of a lot of the cliches... but the failure to enchant in the scenes in the woods leaves a hole.

Adams would be pleased.

The problem is not that the film debases the book but that movies themselves are too capacious a home for such comedy, with its tea-steeped English musings and its love of bitty, tangential gags.

Lugubrious, bumbling and sit-com predictable, Our Idiot Brother has a couple of good ideas, no style, an episodic structure and some charming incidental pleasures, not the least of which are the performances, which are good.

What I liked about the film is that there is a very good cast. I think all the women in the film are terrific actors.

Good fun.

Obviously the makers of Your Highness are competing with Zack Snyder in the race to see who can waste money fastest and in the most outrageous manner possible.

A disarmingly funny holiday comedy.

The sentiment gets a little sticky towards the end, but many will consider this the perfect antidote to traditional Christmas fare -- especially those with a fondness for Ferrell's comedy.

[A]n astonishment, so idiotic in conception and inept in execution that, after seeing it, one almost wonders whether it was real or imagined.

The Happening is an awful letdown, yet it leaves you with something new, as a gently waving tree -- that classical image of pastoral tranquillity -- mutates into a harbinger of doom.

Fans of Bongo playing narcissist Matthew McConaughey will breeze through this formulaic rom-com, though it possesses about as much charm as it does logic.

The movie's notion of humor is exemplified by Bradshaw's extended nude scene.

Distinguished by certain rodent-like features, Qualls is a bargain-basement, pre-adult version of David Spade -- and becomes just as tiresome.

It isn't very good, but it doesn't seem to care, which turns out to be rather refreshing.

A warmly satisfying comedy about dissatisfied people seeking to escape from the personal prison of their mundane lives in soulless suburbia.

I wish I could say I liked it more, but despite a smattering of priceless moments, The Good Girl gets bogged down in the very narrowness that afflicts Justine.

Midway through, Rapp loses momentum, failing to hone in on just what kind of movie he wants to make, and Winter Passing languishes in that no-man's land between tiny, meandering, indie drama and plotted, pointed family melodrama.

This flawed drama about a self-destructive young actress and her reclusive novelist father has its rewards, mainly in some good performances.

Prepare yourself for nights wandering around the house singing unshakable tunes.

The flabby, fawning film Gigantic comes across as 102 minutes of rib-nudging by one of the duo's annoyingly self-satisfied connoisseurs.

Undisciplined, unfocused, overimprovised and unevenly acted.

The characters just sit there and talk, and you start to feel you're trapped not at a movie but in a tiny diner somewhere, eavesdropping on a lot of uninteresting conversations.

Clancy's script is better than his direction, with several high points in both dialogue and scene construction. The material is darkly funny but not so dark as to be vicious.

Eulogy is dead on arrival.