Dan Kois

Spalding Gray himself has the last word on his life, something this exacting storyteller would surely have demanded.

If Richard J. Lewis's film can't re-create the novel's complex stew of grievances, dirty jokes and misremembered anecdotes, it's still a warm tribute.

The Way Back diligently catalogs the outrages through which extreme cold, hunger and thirst put the body, and Weir's camera finds the terrible beauty in his actors' chapped lips, windburned cheeks and tenderized feet.

Kato's often the best part of the movie. Britt calls him a "human Swiss army knife," and he's right; Kato is not a sidekick, but a fully formed hero who's full of surprises.

An uninspired studio product that demands as little from the audience as it did from its writers, directors and actors.

In Faster, it's a car, not actors, that drives movie.

Assayas's actors are so fascinating that I wished at times he had given the house less screen time and let his performers explore their characters more freely.

Jackass is also a touching ode to male friendship at its most primal.

What's disappointing about The Crazies, though, is the lack of care that Eisner and screenwriters Scott Kosar and Ray Wright put into their film's atmosphere. There's little in the way of Romero-esque dread; Eisner substitutes a grim lack of humor and frequent splashes of gore.

Igor may be the most important composer of the 20th century, but he is a mere human. Coco, in this beautiful but indulgent French film, is a work of art.