PANTHER. Nobody can say that Mario Van Peebles lacks energy. His docudrama about the rise and fall of the Black Panther Party is aswirl with camera movement, Oliver Stone-esque editing, blustering rhetoric and non-stop gunplay. What Mario Van Peebles does lack is restraint, and that's a big problem. Not only does it become increasingly exhausting to try to keep up with who's who among the complicated network of key Panthers, but the facts are stretched to such extremes you leave the theater wondering if anything presented was true. The film ends by explaining that the FBI introduced cheap drugs into black neighborhoods in order to discourage black activism, and that's the reason drugs have so corroded our society.

THE PEREZ FAMILY. This rich, colorful film from director Mira Nair (Mississippi Masala) follows the attempt of a Cuban refugee (Alfred Molina) to reunite with his American wife (Anjelica Huston) after 20 years. Marisa Tomei heats up the screen as a saucy prostitute who accompanies him, and Chazz Palminteri provides low-key charm as a policeman with an eye for Huston. Though laced with themes about multiculturalism and the American Dream, the movie is primarily a tale of old love versus new. Nair's attention to detail and deft creative touches manage to give the picture both emotional weight and a buoyant, fanciful spirit.

POCAHONTAS. In their depiction of the Native American woman who helped forge peace between indians and colonists, Disney delivers everything you'd expect: a tasteful message of anti-bigotry and environmental harmony, cute animals, competent songwriting and a heroine who looks like an animated supermodel. A few of the key sequences are charming, but most of the film is so calculated as to lack any viewing joy whatsoever.

The Prophecy. Working from a kooky Biblical fantasy reminiscent of The Omen or The Rapture, the story imagines the angel Gabriel as an avaricious sort who wants to wage war in heaven and take over that big throne in the sky. Gabriel is, of course, played by Christopher Walken, who chews up the scenery like a dog in a beef jerky factory. Down on earth, Gabriel has some business to attend to, but not if detective Elias Koteas, schoolteacher Virginia Madsen and Eric Stoltz (as the angel Simon) can help it. The movie hints at a buildup that never comes, and fails to entertain in all the big, important ways. However, author-director Gergory Widen does very well with all the wry, evil bits; perhaps somebody should hire him to do script polishes on the next Stallone, Van Damme and Steven Seagal features.

PULP FICTION. Quentin Tarantino's second outing as director/screenwriter shifts from the tight plotting and characterization of Reservoir Dogs to a sprawling, meandering format that (barely) weaves three urban crime stories together. Tarantino, a talented writer, goes on several banal dialogue binges and then adds his customary unsettling explosions of violence. On a few occasions, the mixture is gritty fun; on more than a few others, it becomes tedious. With interesting performances by John Travolta, Bruce Willis, Rosanna Arquette, Eric Stoltz, Samuel L. Jackson and Maria de Medeiros.

A PURE FORMALITY. Two butt-nosed actors for the price of one! Gerard Depardieu plays a murder suspect with a severe memory problem and Roman Polanski plays the inspector who chips away at Depardieu's story over the course of a night. Directed by Giuseppe Tornatore (Cinema Paradiso), this dark, sumptuously detailed film evolves from noirish cat-and-mouse game to metaphysical character study with more than enough skill to keep the film's dreamlike elusiveness endurable. Watching Depardieu and Polanski click is a treat; their performances hold the film together long after the mystery's grip has loosened.

The Quick and the Dead. Sam Raimi, best known for the Evil Dead series, directs this surrealistically action-packed Western (based entirely on a gunfight contest) as if he'd taken the title to heart and slowing down would kill him. Every sequence spills over with visual punchlines, obnoxiously funny zoom-in shots and ferocious one-liners. It's almost too much movie for itself, and protagonist Sharon Stone can't anchor the picture the way it needs; her Clint Eastwood-style sullenness lacks substance. But the gallery of supporting actors, which includes Lance Henriksen, Leonard DiCaprio, Gene Hackman (doing a twisted take on his evil sheriff role from Unforgiven), fill the movie with so much wanton charisma that Stone's performance as the "straight man" actually starts working after a while. It's a weird picture where A-movie and B-movie qualities are blended at such a high velocity that you start to lose track of which is which.

QUIZ SHOW. Robert Redford's examination of the Quiz Show scandals surrounding the 1950s show Twenty-One is a solid, straightforward piece of filmmaking that struggles to project larger meanings onto the story's historical triviality. Through the story of contestant Charles Van Doren's fall from grace, Redford suggests that the rise of television signaled the decline of American intellectual integrity, a notion too simple-minded to qualify as enlightening. Fortunately, the film also presents an enjoyably authentic recreation of '50s TV mania, complete with cheesy game-show hosts and seedy producers who, by today's standards, look rather innocent. Starring Ralph Fiennes, John Turturro and Rob Morrow.

READY TO WEAR. Robert Altman revises the cross-stitched plotting technique he used in Short Cuts for this satire on the international fashion industry. Authentic Parisian settings, interviews with real designers and the commemorative inclusion of Italian actors Marcello Mastroianni, Anouk Aimee and Sophia Loren can't save the movie from its aimless one-joke premise. If ever there was a case of one naked Emperor pointing out the nakedness of another, this is it. Julia Roberts fans will want to note, however, that Altman extracts what is easily Roberts' finest performance in a sub-plot that pits her against Tim Robbins for a spark-filled weekend romance in a hotel room.

RED. Polish filmmaker Krzysztof Kielowski received a Best Director nomination for this crimson-hued meditation about how much our lives are determined by chance encounters and coincidence. It's easy to see what he was nominated for--his imagery, which includes everything from a visual explanation of the routes taken in a long-distance phone connection to a woman's face appearing to melt as a large cloth billboard is dismantled, is sumptuous and inspired. But the story, in which a lonely young woman (Irene Jacob) talks out the film's themes with a jaded ex-judge and full-time cordless-phone voyeur (Jean-Louis Trintgnant), lacks forward momentum. The movie has resonance, but it's the resonance of a first-rate visual experiment, not a full-bodied drama.

THE RIVER WILD. If Disney re-made Deliverance, this is what they might have come up with: a likable but rarely exciting thriller about a family taken hostage by fugitives during a river-rafting expedition. Meryl Streep makes her action-movie debut playing a tough mama and with the exception of a few embarrassing over-the-top moments, she's a fine choice. So are David Strathairn, as Streep's aloof workaholic husband, and Kevin Bacon, as a gun-weilding bad guy with a shit-eating grin. Too bad such high-grade actors are wasted on a typical fight-the-villains-to-save-the-family-unit story. It's a good-looking River, but rather shallow.

ROB ROY. Pass the Scot tissue--here's yet another highland film bent on glorifying men with heavy accents, long hair and big morals. Liam Neeson plays the honorable title character with his usual hard-to-resist charm; and Tim Roth, as the jaded, fearsome and strangely effeminate villain, is the perfect antithesis to the hero. But the movie lingers over its themes with dull reverence, never mustering up enough cinematic oomph to add meat to its message. Something is amiss when a movie about primal purity adopts the pacing of a tea party.

ROOMMATES. As a grandpa and grandson who spend much of their lives sharing living quarters, Peter Falk and D.W. Sweeney make a fairly sweet pair. Sweeney has always been a likable average guy, and Falk is an entirely effective cranky curmudgeon. But the script doesn't know quite what to do with them; instead of outlining their relationship in brief strokes, it makes the mistake of carrying us through their entire lives, from marriages to births to funerals and on and on. Peter Yates, best known for Breaking Away, directs like a baker who doesn't realize he's left the bread in too long.