Never Let Me Go isn't the kind of movie you talk about on the drive home -- it's even better. It's the kind that makes you sit quietly and think, rolling it around in your head and considering the angles.

The updated version of the familiar tale strikes a nice balance between humor, adventure and romance, making it a movie that will appeal to the whole family.

The result is a movie that is about as riveting as -- well, as your average Robert Novak column.

The whole thing is kind of comforting in a damn-the-torpedoes, laugh-at-what-scares-you-most kind of way.

Without the fantastic performances from Gandolfini, Stewart and Leo, it wouldn't hold together nearly as well as it does.

It's hard to resist the pairing of such talented actors as Robert Downey Jr. and Zack Galifianakis - and they prove why here. They are funny guys, both of whom make the most of the material.

Arriving with a savage grace, director Darren Aronofsky's nightmare-come-to-life Black Swan cements his reputation not only as one of the more daring filmmakers of his generation, but also as an actor's director of the first order.

A punch-drunk tale whose fitful ramble from Jerry Springer-style family seaminess to "Rocky"-like triumph is elevated enormously by knockout performances.

This is a dirty, stinky Western -- the kind where authenticity is the guiding artistic hand and where a layer of filth and grime have seemingly settled over everything but the popcorn in your lap.

To be clear: Despite the holiday flavor, and despite the pint-sized hero, this is no kids' movie. There is swearing. There is blood. There is an army of 180 very nude Santas coursing through the snow. That's not the kind of thing Frank Capra ever could have dreamed of -- and that change of pace is exactly what makes Rare Exports a rare, if unexpected, holiday treat.

Boasting a rock-solid academic architecture, Bhutto is a film bursting at the seams with gravitas.

Feels like a movie that belongs in June or July, with all the other comic book fare. But I'll gladly take it now, no matter what the calendar says.

Part "The Great Escape" and part "Lawrence of Arabia, " Weir's epic The Way Back is ambitious in scope, grand in vision and rich with examples of the resilience of the human spirit.

Like the original, it is a moody, atmospheric film, one boasting significantly more depth than your typical blow-'em-up.

Slowly becomes a thoughtful and interesting deconstruction and demythologizing of American celebrity.

Not the deepest stuff, but thought-provoking all the same -- and entertaining to boot.

Complemented by striking, well-conceived visuals, in Fukunaga's hands Bronte's tale of love and woe becomes one well worth repeating.

There are moments when the freak-show elements of the film threaten to overpower its message, but that message is such a fascinating one -- and the debate an important one as well -- that The Elephant in the Living Room manages to overcome them.

The kind of indie gem that doesn't come around nearly often enough -- and, when they do, often not enough people go to see them.

If you're a mom or dad bringing your own little primates to the movie, that's a good thing.

It's a film for patient moviegoers. But for those moviegoers, it stands to be a rewarding experience.

It is a thoughtful film, a serious one, and one that is sneakily affecting.

The movie is quietly affecting, as Rush offers a moving and rewarding yarn about the need to move on in the face of personal tragedy, and about the strength of human connections.

What it lacks in style, however, it more than makes up for in substance, as Shearer -- as smart as he is funny -- has assembled a vital and admirably accessible post-mortem on Hurricane Katrina.

Spurlock banks on his charm and likability -- and it's that charm and likability that make The Greatest Movie Ever Sold so much fun to watch.

Their story, as told by Pooley, also is a touching and quietly meaningful one, built around themes of tolerance, self-acceptance and unconditional love.

McGlynn's film clocks in at just a shade under two hours, which normally would be a little long for a documentary. In this case, the length not only is warranted but welcomed.

So what we have is a movie that will make at least two important groups happy. New Orleans boosters can cheer Green Lantern for its local roots and for the possibility that the inevitable future installments could return to town. And the purists can cheer, knowing that Campbell and crew have done Green Lantern justice.