Ruiz has made the most ambitious adaptation of a Proust work yet.

Timeless, and as fine a depiction of human folly as you're likely to see at the movies.

Makes a term like neo-noir seem like a fatuous catch phrase.

Kiarostami's genius is elusive. His films may be unknowable, but they are undeniably hypnotic, charismatic.

It's the year's best movie sex.

Meanders around Holly Springs, Mississippi, with the fuzzy benevolence of a Hallmark Hall of Fame presentation.

Gets diagnosably schizo.

One of the most complex and powerful literary scripts in recent times.

This is a nearly miraculous conjunction of director, material and actor.

Big Night's beauty is the fact that it is about passion.

With Election, Payne announces himself as one of the keenest purveyors of the scattered pieces that once was an American morality.

Kurosawa pulled out all the stops with Ran, his obsession with loyalty and his love of expressionistic film techniques allowed to roam freely.

Ethereal.

A sweaty-browed exercise in precision filmmaking, but one that doesn't cheat you with wisps of tension and the pretense of attitude.

Elegant.

A momentously, shockingly moving fit of shape-shifting by a filmmaker grown tired of the macabre.

So phenomenal that Bill Murray can't even steal it. And he tries. So excellent that Murray's MTV progeny Tom Green can't sink it.

Minghella is an artist and he has painted himself a masterpiece.

Extraordinary, entertaining cinema.

A handbook on cinematic lucidity. All events are described clearly. Motives of all the characters are set right there on the table next to the pasta for our consideration.

It's that rare movie with a sense of timeliness that is eternal, and a protagonist whose soul-crushed angst, even at its most fatal, speaks to the little boy/girl lost in everyone.

Spellbinding.

The effect is riveting and frightening. You feel you are under siege with the combatants.

The film will intoxicate children and charm the parents in their company.

It's the film we leave most movie theaters wishing we'd seen instead.

This movie has everything but Humphrey Bogart, and I'm sure he's sorry he was unavailable.

It's a glimmering hunk of fractured brilliance riddled with Orwellian paranoia encased in a production design seemingly pieced together from the shared dreams of Franz Kakfa and Salvador Dali, and shot from cruelly low angles.

A marvelous child of Star Wars technology, the advanced sound design makes a celebratory re-viewing of George Lucas' legendary, 20-year-old space opera a thrilling experience. [Special Edition]