With Before Night Falls, Schnabel has moved to an entirely new plane of cinematic achievement.

Temple's wonderfully entertaining film brings the era back in all its confused and tentatively revolutionary glory, and bracingly demonstrates that the Pistols still have the power to shock.

Well-crafted scenes that carry a bracingly grown-up tang: unhurried, played in a low key, with plenty of time to savor the details of character and place.

Wickedly funny, scathingly original new comedy.

Conveys not just a joy in music and The Beatles, but a joy in cinema.

Althea is a ferociously vibrant character, and Love goes all out to infuse her with a wildness seldom seen on screen. Love holds nothing back, and her energy and her heartache energize the movie.

You'll treasure this movie.

It's like a madly inventive hybrid of "Dr. Strangelove" and "The Treasure of the Sierra Madre."

Stoppard's luxuriant, richly comic language cascades and washes over you, and, for once, more than keeps pace with the sprightly pictures.

A lovely piece of work.

A movie with the power and quality of dreams, where reality merges into symbolism and oddly juxtaposed elements crystallize into a single, electrifying whole.

One of the most troubling views of the human race I've seen in years. Luckily for us, its depressing, almost pathologically ironic vision is redeemed by the sublimity of Solondz' filmmaking. I first saw the film at Cannes last May and it's haunted me, both for its nastiness and its brilliance, ever since.

Minghella shapes Ondaatje's sprawling story into something miraculously cohesive, and at the movie's center is one of the most compelling love stories in recent memory.

Keeps you engaged in this story of a memorable anti-hero for our times.

Achieves a kind of beauty through its overlaying enigmas, and Carrey.

Benigni, with great help from young Cantarini, has crafted a work of such complexity that you may find both your brain and your heart simply overloaded. Which, of course, is the rarely achieved goal of all art.

It's that very rare feeling that you're settling into a movie whose individual elements are so finely attuned they fuse into a singular construct of pure entertainment.

Quentin Tarantino's latest movie puts an epic spin on a favorite genre, taking it to time-tripping levels rarely tested by its forerunners.

For me, the experience was much like seeing Mike Nichols' "The Graduate" and George Lucas' "American Graffiti" before the hype machines kicked in.

Feels like the first truly honest attempt to deal with the horrors of combat - and the terrible responsibility shared by all survivors.

The other key part is Schindler's Jewish accountant, played with self-effacing brilliance by Ben Kingsley, who gives the movie just the touch of warmth and sanity it needs.

If we're allowed just a couple of truly singular discoveries in twelve months, it's a good year; when one of them is a film as exhilarating as Spike Jonze's feature debut, it's a banner year.

This is a waking dream of truly operatic dimensions.

Writer/director David Mamet, who's built a career in both theater and film by being a hyper-manly sort of writer, has crafted a film that is laugh out loud funny and dinner-conversation smart.

It always surprises, never bores. It's also just damn good, on every possible level -- so go see it. Now.

For all its occasional long-windedness and visual dazzle, Brazil may be the "Strangelove" of the 1980s.

One of the best films of the year. Queer in every sense of the word, it's poignant, laugh-out-loud funny and thoroughly provocative.

Van Sant and crew appear to have had a blast making this film, and I had a blast watching it. The subject matter is very dark and yet it is handled with a very light touch.