With The Fitzgerald Family Christmas, Edward Burns returns to his Irish-Catholic roots for the first time in a decade.
Alex Cross comes to theaters with the distinct timbre of a merger rather than a singular entertainment.
There’s a lot of talent and promise on display in the film, but a dispiriting obligation to formula ultimately rears its ugly head.
Jennifer Westfeldt is juggling so much, it’s a wonder there aren’t more jokes about balls.
The film looks strangely outdated, and certain production decisions scream budgetary compromise.
Spielberg’s virtuosity is every bit as luridly kinetic as it was in the best sequences from The Lost World a year before.
The only surprise to this by-the-numbers action thriller is that it didn’t go straight to video-and that it doesn’t star Jon Voight.
Echelon Conspiracy flimsily masquerades as a ticking bomb but is ultimately sans heart-pounding jolts.
To list all the contrivances strewn throughout would require more words than are warranted by Nancy Meyers’s cinematic maple syrup.
Shadowy cinematography isn’t enough to conceal Peter Hyams’s crashing directorial clumsiness.
Flight of the Phoenix is remarkably loyal to the Robert Aldrich’s 1965 action yarn of the same name, if only in plot.
The commentary is an engaging reminder that good cinema can come from very small budgets.
The times are perfect for a quirky, carpe diem movie like Life Or Something Like It.
As reductive as it is comfortably airtight, the film is a lovely romantic scruple for those weary of Woody Allen’s aging neuroses.