Village Voice's Scores

For 8,255 reviews, this publication has graded:
  • 37% higher than the average critic
  • 4% same as the average critic
  • 59% lower than the average critic
On average, this publication grades 7.1 points lower than other critics. (0-100 point scale)
Average Movie review score: 55
Highest review score: 100 Harvard Beats Yale 29-29
Lowest review score: 0 Strippers
Score distribution:
8,255 movie reviews
  1. Lacks development and dramatic coherence.
  2. A handheld and grainy exercise in cine-stupefaction...too spastic to connect...the movie just flails the air.
  3. Another in a line of Dogme half-wits whose madness is posited as a state of tortured grace, the young wife in Kira's Reason is a woman well past the verge.
  4. A ponderous, almost wordless sliver of grotesquerie.
  5. Mistakes self-pitying embitterment for carry-on endurance, and manages to have its causality both ways.
  6. First-timer Dylan Kidd's film isn't Molièrian in its misanthropy, but rather as boneheaded as an hour of talk-radio hobgoblin Tom Leikis.
  7. The story -- is just what fills in the gaps between slow-motion fireballs, Matrix-style frozen mayhem, and Halle Berry's notoriously undraped breasts.
  8. Begins on a note of total migraine-inducing hysteria, which continues unabated throughout.
  9. Peaks early with a vertiginous dogfight; thereafter, spotty CGI and a bamboozling plot conspire toward a colossal anticlimax.
  10. The most that can be said for Slackers -- aside from the unqualified pleasure of Schwartzman's unfaked, puppyish weirdness -- is that it doesn't abandon its putrid ideals for the sake of a neat finish.
    • 14 Metascore
    • 30 Critic Score
    Writer-director Mark Wilkinson gracefully elides backstories while arranging his converging narratives into a neat fugue, but the overall preciousness of his conception is suffocating.
  11. Allegiance to Chekhov, which director Michael Cacoyannis displays with somber earnestness in the new adaptation of The Cherry Orchard, is a particularly vexing handicap.
  12. Screwball it isn't, but it has screwy down pat.
  13. Has little to offer beyond muzzy kismet and generalized amnesia, a bit of National Geographic and a lot of cocktail jazz.
  14. Devoid of originality, Gasoline is at least a model of modesty -- a road movie that goes nowhere slowly, and ends up where it began.
    • 44 Metascore
    • 30 Critic Score
    The script is as full of holes as some of the highwaymen's bullet-riddled victims -- why not throw a drum-and-bass track over everything?
  15. Bury this in the time capsule: a memento of the Clean South, 2003.
  16. Watching the film is like reading a Times Portrait of Grief that keeps shifting focus to the journalist who wrote it.
  17. The ultimate cliché of plot-twist implausibility, the crucial revelation is so outlandishly fatuous it might have given Donald Kaufman pause.
    • 36 Metascore
    • 30 Critic Score
    Obtuse and creepy.
    • 61 Metascore
    • 30 Critic Score
    Though filled with violent smackdowns, slackjawed interviews, and bizarre characters, Hough's doc never rises above the level of first-year student project, hobbled by scattershot editing, badly written intertitles, and useless directorial voice-over.
  18. Home Room is badly acted and, running well over two hours, often mind-numbingly ponderous. Depressed rather than hysterical, it's in every way less clever and more literal-minded than "Zero Day."
  19. A grating cycle of squabbles, sloppy kissing, and rapprochements.
  20. The movie neither inspires us to pine for what might've been nor makes Gilliam-style filmmaking seem like a noble pursuit.
  21. Cynically accumulates plot twists while showing little regard for suspense or audience sophistication.
  22. Trying to act in this movie is like trying to stand upright in a blizzard.
  23. Really, any wit at all would have helped balance the playful but crass butt-seeking money shots.
  24. Rifkin milks the generic Bukowski-land setting for all its melodramatic potential, but what little grace his tale of precarious skid-row dignity achieves is pushed into the margins by predictable plotting and tiresome histrionics.
  25. Offers director Roger Spottiswoode a chance to have the worst actor in Beverly Hills play scenes with himself.
  26. The entire matter of totemistic home-team dementia is roasted on a spit and then embraced for all its sorry pointlessness.
  27. Scene-by-scene, things happen, but you'd be hard-pressed to say what or why; occasionally, a poetic moment leaps out of the soup.
  28. After simmering for an eternity, it derails, with spectacular, psychotic force, bulldozing its way toward an almost unwatchable theater of cruelty.
  29. Throughout, Tykwer reaches for mysteries he has no idea how to evoke, relying instead on his actors' empty stares.
  30. Every other line is a coy Oirishism, and Brosnan, despite being Irish, isn't any more convincing than twinkly-eyed barmaid Julianna Margulies.
  31. So feel-sniffly-good it could make you revisit lunch.
  32. xXx
    Diesel himself has the personality of a golem and a knack for dialogue delivery that suggests recent oral surgery.
    • 36 Metascore
    • 30 Critic Score
    The movie's best observations come from its sinister, unseen producer, who sneers at Berkowitz, "You're making a cartoon piece of shit . . . that ends with you jerking off by yourself."
  33. The notion of grievingly happening upon your dead beloved, young and lovely again, is simple and potent, but the film's airless amateurism, belabored ethnicism ("Oy gevalt!"), and trite dialogue kill it in the water.
  34. A lackluster screwball comedy.
  35. Gardos, an experienced film editor, has little narrative sense, and decent performances (except from Kinski, who just worries and huffs around) are left out to dry.
    • 46 Metascore
    • 30 Reviewed by
      Ed Park
    As earnest as a community-college advertisement, American Chai is enough to make you put away the guitar, sell the amp, and apply to medical school.
    • 46 Metascore
    • 30 Reviewed by
      Ed Park
    Proves infertile in more ways than one.
    • 23 Metascore
    • 30 Critic Score
    Emily Mortimer and Robert Carlyle generate heat as criminal lovers, but most of the cast just engages in embarrassing scenery-gnawing.
  36. Despite some rocking bombast by Philip Glass and reliably wicked cello saws from Yo-Yo Ma, the whole thing plays like a tired Tyco ad.
  37. 15 Minutes settles into Richard Donner-style goulash.
  38. Too lazy to be a comedy, too conventional to be a head movie.
  39. The finale is a near-abstract mess (decapitation, impalation, "Alien" birth) -- in an empathic gesture, the filmmakers end it all with a few sticks of TNT.
    • 33 Metascore
    • 30 Reviewed by
      Ed Park
    The story has too many characters, about whom we know too little.
  40. Overproduced as a Super Bowl soft-drink commercial, so much so that even its potentially insightful moments seem like movie fakery.
  41. Heartbreakers gives redemption a bad name, but gives conniving misanthropy a worse one.
  42. Isaac Eaton wrote and directed; he evidences little talent in either department.
    • 42 Metascore
    • 30 Reviewed by
      Ed Park
    So busy rehashing rom-com clichés that it shirks the genitive, prelude to other flaws.
  43. Washington directs with proficient blandness charged only occasionally by organic acting moments.
  44. Often succumbs to the craven hysteria perhaps inherent in its hoary premise.
  45. The high-concept scenario soon proves preposterous, the acting is robotically italicized, and truth-in-advertising hounds take note: There's very little hustling on view, though McCrudden does arrange for his lead gym rat to be shirtless as often as possible.
  46. Requiring an enormous amount of suspended disbelief, the original Rings may be a culture-specific phenom; despite strenuous efforts to Americanize Nakata's field of bad dreams, the preview audience did a lot of cackling.
    • 35 Metascore
    • 30 Reviewed by
      Ed Park
    Though ample time is spent mingling Murphy's jabberjaw locutions and Wilson's curveball spaciness, the film leaves only the bitter reek of a botched chemistry experiment.
  47. Since the central odd couple have no rapport, their bond never seems to progress past mutual usury.
    • 21 Metascore
    • 30 Critic Score
    Gets sucked into a gravitational cesspool of sci-fi clichés.
  48. An inert and inept romantic comedy.
  49. Michael and Mark Polish's debut feature, "Twin Falls, Idaho," was a cloying oddball love story involving adult male Siamese twins; their follow-up, Jackpot, is another piece of whimsical Americana.
    • 30 Metascore
    • 30 Reviewed by
      Ed Park
    The only possible surprise in The Tuxedo would be an extended demonstration of what was once Chan's trademark, the daffily choreographed kineticism forbidden of late by either his own age or the scruples of story editors.
  50. Thomas's fleet-footed approach suggests the anxious embarrassment of a director in an awful hurry to get it over with.
  51. Barely a movie.
  52. Stupefyingly benign.
    • 18 Metascore
    • 30 Critic Score
    Made with $980 and about as many brain cells, Cupid's Mistake is more cute than clever.
  53. Doesn't just look and sound like a car commercial. It is a car commercial.
    • 45 Metascore
    • 30 Reviewed by
      Ed Park
    Director Chuck Russell lacks the visual panache, the comic touch, and perhaps the budget of Sommers's title-bout features, which refined a historically grounded B-movie sensibility into pure, gasp-inducing entertainment.
    • 30 Metascore
    • 30 Critic Score
    Aaliyah fans, as well as fans of charisma, sex, and violence, will be sorely disappointed.
    • 50 Metascore
    • 30 Critic Score
    As a study in sororal emasculation, Zus & Zo ("This and That") is neither funny nor particularly punch-drunk.
  54. There is an odd cognitive dissonance at work between the obvious ingenuity dedicated to the film's visual details -- alien anatomies, industrial machinery, technological minutiae -- and the retarded intelligence quotient evident in its content.
  55. It's a sign of how watered-down the movie is that only the supporting actors have any bite.
  56. Steals every trick in the gaysploitation book down to the Alexis Arquette glorified cameo, but the end result -- compulsively horrible and full of unintentional poignant hilarity -- is its own mutant creature.
  57. Hollywood Homicide knows it's a dog, and it ain't too proud to beg.
    • 38 Metascore
    • 30 Critic Score
    The stream of sentimentality is endless and often sickly, and the warm afterglow is decidedly manufactured.
  58. A movie that's two-thirds flashback (and could have been called "Ex, Ex, Ex, Why?").
  59. Airy, pseudo-folkloric gibberish at best.
  60. The traumatized critic must struggle to avoid capital letters in urging patrons to steer clear of the colorfully cast but unbearable Spun.
  61. The characters exist in single dimensions (trapped in a noxiously misogynist role, even the fearless Richard stands no chance), and in an effort to keep the plates spinning, the movie quickly devolves from risqué to risible.
  62. Essentially a reheating of 1982's "First Blood" -- a psychologically wounded warrior-vet pits himself against civilized America -- but the fallout this time is simultaneously more ruthless, less emotional, and duller.
  63. Baggy and overbroad, He Loves Me is notable only as a corrective to cinema's promiscuity with fabulous destinies.
  64. The actors all function as best they can as glowering clichés, though the narrative's temporal jump presents difficulties.
  65. A show about nothing—its jokes based on stick-figure stereotypes, its lunges at humanism premised on imbecilic pity.
  66. Intermittently appealing, fundamentally dysfunctional action-comedy.
  67. A pale, patchy amalgam of the year's two unfairly reviled interplanetary adventures, "Supernova" and "Mission to Mars," the lunkheaded Red Planet distinguishes itself with a touching pretense of scientific veracity.
  68. Nothing plot-wise is worth e-mailing home about. But director John Polson's surging pace, double-flip edits, nu-metal bash-ins, and copious jump-fucks make a sure-handed tempest in this teacup.
  69. Niccol has no gift for comedy. His ongoing exploration of modern celebrity results in an industry satire that's less funny than half-empty and hyper-designed.
  70. In its own dimly reckless way, the film is riveting -- not unlike watching a tightrope walker with a bad case of vertigo.
  71. Aidan Higgins's novel undergoes a choppy, perplexing script adaptation by Harold Pinter (who enjoys a soused, belligerent cameo), further muddied by non sequitur editing inserts. Imogen and Otto's happenstance affair holds little intrigue or surprise.
  72. Hardly a project worthy of grown men and women.
  73. Despite exposition delivered so redundantly and witlessly you think you're in a Kaplan class, Stigmata manages to be incoherent.
    • 52 Metascore
    • 30 Reviewed by
      Ed Park
    The bulk of the Atlantis scenes in situ are as involving as a chakra workshop.
    • 23 Metascore
    • 30 Critic Score
    Morris Chestnut, known for his "Best Man"-style nice-guy roles, is surprisingly effective against type as the evil commando leader, but he's handcuffed by a script that never adequately explains his motivations.
    • 54 Metascore
    • 30 Reviewed by
      Ed Park
    A flatland of lowest-common-denominated retro-collegiate wackiness.
    • 34 Metascore
    • 30 Critic Score
    Her every gesture exaggerated, Blair acts as if she's performing in a silent film, but unfortunately, the film itself isn't silent -- the jam-packed alterna-rock soundtrack further emphasizes the obvious.
  74. Collapses in a heap of affirmational outbursts and metaphysical goop. The fond chemistry between the leads deserves a better movie.
  75. The film exists in a humid meta-movie ether all its own.
    • 31 Metascore
    • 30 Critic Score
    Straining to put his own stamp on this stale-from-the-crypt material, Zombie falls back on the twitchy visual grammar of his videos, splicing in dream sequences and grainy porno-snippets apparently purchased at Bob Crane's estate sale. The violence eventually becomes more inhuman than human.
    • 38 Metascore
    • 30 Critic Score
    The script, and the actors' breezy performances, work inasmuch as they get us to the chase on time.
  76. Cédric Klapisch has been compared to Truffaut, but the new-waver's weakness for glib sentimentalism seems to have left the biggest impression on L'Auberge Espagnole.

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