The Devil's Own (15). As woolly-headed as you'd expect of a Hollywood gloss on the Troubles, Alan J Pakula's thriller is the kind of film that signifies its Oirishness with a blast of uileann pipes and thinks nothing of casting Brad Pitt as an IRA gunman. Credible only when mute (and even then, barely), Pitt plays a Belfast terrorist who's taken in by an unsuspecting Irish-American cop (Harrison Ford). Wallowing in familiar moral dilemmas, the movie resorts periodically to earnest cliches. Warning Ford that happy endings are elusive, Pitt notes: "It isn't an American story; it's an Irish one." The same can hardly be said of this film.
Beavis and Butt-head Do America (12). A feature-length movie isn't the most flattering context for MTV's inbred kings of innuendo. For this cash- in showcase, creator Mike Judge has dumped the series' essential premise (lampooning pretentious music videos) and cobbled together an excuse for a plot that's sparked by the theft of Beavis and Butt-head's all-important television set. What follows is a cross-country odyssey that doesn't quite suck, but that's "huh huh, cool" for only about half an hour - ie, for the duration of an average Beavis and Butt-head episode. That said, there are ways in which this qualifies as the most original American road movie in years.
The Fifth Element (PG). In Luc Besson's 23rd-century universe of flying vehicles and Gaultier outfits, good wins out over evil - as does style over substance. Though too long and somewhat clumsy, this sci-fi extravaganza does at least have something approaching a sense of humour. Bruce Willis's cabbie is the nominal hero, but it's Besson's appetite for grotesquerie that's the real star. Both the production design and supporting cast are touched by madness. Gary Oldman's villain, maniacal even by Oldman standards, has the worst hair in film history, and stand-up comic Chris Tucker, as a rabid radio host, makes such an impression you feel he's in need of institutionalisation - or his own movie.Reuse content