I don't know how a movie this original got made today, but thank God for wonderful aberrations.

What blasts off the screen like a heat wave, burning in the heart, is the sheer toe-tapping, booty-shaking joy of making music.

This one's done right. Here's an intelligent movie with no special effects. You have to pay close attention, to listen hard to its cross-fires of dialogue.

The result is a film of rare restraint and surprising power.

Noyce uses his Hollywood craft to unfold this primal, powerful story, he has an epic feel for the harshly beautiful Australian landscape and he gets wonderfully natural performances from the three girls. His bold, lyrical images stay in your head, like an unaccountably beautiful nightmare.

In the hearts of losers, Zwigoff’s found a real winner.

Moore’s stunning, subtle performance as a woman trapped in the conventions of her time encapsulates the film’s brave, double-edged beauty.

The superbly acted Spider is muted in comparison: it’s a quiet nightmare, painted in hospital greens and rust browns.

Their (Murray/Johansson) brief, wondrous encounter is the soul of this subtle, funny, melancholy film.

A haunted thriller of disturbing power.

Filled with funny, gritty Tarantino lowlife gab and a respectable body count, but what is most striking is the film's gallantry and sweetness. Tarantino hits some new and touching notes with Grier and Forster.

Writer-director Ray has a no-fuss style that is quietly, thoroughly gripping.

The movie's slight, anecdotal structure is deceptive; you wouldn't guess how big an emotional wallop it packs.

A tad dark for little kids, this one-of-a-kind movie delivers 80 minutes of idiosyncratic inspiration.

Eastwood is at his effortless, slyboots best and the film is as preposterous as it is delightful.

What keeps you in your seat is the acting. Keener, crisply and coolly playing against type, commands the screen. [24 August 1998, p. 58]

Dr. Dolittle is a zoo-and a blast. [6 July 1998, p. 67]

It's the characterization of Mulan, both in voice and visuals, that makes the film a keeper.

Hilariously odd and prodigiously inventive.

The payoff comes at the end, when the myriad threads pull together with a shock like a noose tightening around your neck. Built with old-fashioned craftsmanship, Lone Star is not a movie you'll quickly forget. [8 July 1996, p.64]

The movie puts us in Maria's shoes, taking us step by suspenseful step through her physical and spiritual ordeal.

All this is good fun -- some of which is anticipating the pained reaction from conservative Hollywood-hasslers. Director Rob Reiner has a fine smooth touch, Douglas is charismatic, Bening is scrumptious -- you want to put all these dream politicos in a doggy bag and take them home. [20 Nov 1995, p.28]

Watching Moore battle the heavy odds may be formulaic fun, but it's genuine fun, and the formula is classic.

Takes the prize. It's a bloody hoot.

Few films have shown so powerfully the slashing double edge of sports fever.

It's a deliciously outrageous premise, and director Barry Levinson and writers David Mamet and Hilary Henkin know just how to spin it, savaging Washington and Hollywood with merciless wit. It's a hoot.

Marvin's taciturn performance--a moving demonstration of masculine grace under pressure--may be his finest.

DiCaprio is astonishing.