People will react very strongly to this movie – they will either love it or hate it. And after some consideration, I’ve decided that I love it.

Those who will enjoy it are people who have a lot of tolerance for all-night college dorm discussions of the meaning of life, because this entire movie is a series of monologues and dialogues that are variations on that theme.

It does not really tell a story. It is just a journey by an unnamed main character (played by Wiley Wiggins) who wanders through an Alice-in-Wonderland-style journey that may or may not be a dream, meeting all kinds of very odd people, many of whom tell him their views on consciousness and the purpose of existence.

It recalls director/screenwriter Linklater’s first film, “Slackers,” which showed us a series of loosely linked people expressing views on everything from Madonna’s pap smear to the assassination of William McKinley, and his later film, “Before Sunrise,” in which a young couple meets on a train and spend the rest of the movie walking around Vienna and talking about just about everything.

The couple from “Before Sunrise,” Julie Delpy and Ethan Hawke, reprise their roles in one scene in “Waking Life,” lying in bed talking about consciousness after death. Other actors and characters from Linklater’s earlier films flicker through this one as well, their out-of-context familiarity adding to the dreaminess and disorientation.

But there is a crucial difference between this film and Linklater’s earlier works. This film is animated. Actually, it is rotoscoped, which means that it was originally shot on film (digital film, in this case). Then, instead of creating animation cells or computer pictures from scratch, animators paint over the photographed images of real people. Each scene or character had a different group of animators, though the overall look of the film is very consistent.

The combination of the floating animation on top of real images also adds to the dreamlike quality of the film, especially in contrast to the very authentic-sounding audio. Animated films, highly artificial, usually have pristine, tightly controlled audio (with rare exceptions, like the pioneering John and Faith Hubley). But in “Waking Life” we get an extraordinary sense of documentary, even hyper-reality from the ambient noise of the audio and the fact that many of the monologues are delivered by people who are not actors. For example, some of Linklater’s college professors deliver portions of their lectures. This “real”-sounding audio contrasts with the vibrating fluidity and impressionism of the visual images.

At times, shapes shift to reflect the discussion. As a man says he would rather be “a gear in a big deterministic physical machine than just some random swerving,” his face briefly turns into a purplish gear. Another character briefly turns into clouds or smoke. But mostly, the images stay close to their original form and shape, except that the settings around them float, shift, and quiver, perhaps like “some random swerving.” Animation serves the dialogue in this movie as it served the music in “Fantasia.” Instead of Mickey Mouse carrying buckets or hippo ballerinas, we get a literally red-faced prisoner threatening the direst revenge on just about everyone and a man in a captain’s hat driving a boat on the road.

The monologues themselves are like jazz improvisations, wildly playful, bringing in an astonishing assortment of references and concepts. I think the secret to enjoying this movie is not to engage too much with the individual arguments and points of view but just to allow your ears and spirit to enjoy the fact that there are people who feel passionately about these ideas and who are willing to talk about them to other people with an openness that is both humbling and touching.

I enjoy that kind of talk, whether I agree with it or not, and it is a pleasure to see language used to create such intimacy and connection. The Delpy-Hawke scene shows how purely sexy conversation can be, something pretty much lost to movies since they started permitting nudity. The people who want “real human moments,” or “holy moments” of genuine connection come across as authentically vulnerable. Of course, other characters come across as people who talk all the time and barely notice if anyone is listening, but most of the people Wiggins meets want to help him in their own way.

Parents should know that the movie has some very strong language and scenes of cartoon violence, including a shoot-out and a self-immolation. Some teens may be upset by the discussions of death.

Families who see the movie will want to talk about their own views on the meaning of life and which, if any, of the characters are closest to their own thoughts about dreams and reality. Is it possible to create “lucid dreams?” Is there a reason that a film-maker might be particularly attracted to this idea – could film be a kind of generalized lucid dream? When you are dreaming, are you aware that you are dreaming? How do you know? What does it mean to say that there’s only one moment or to talk about the eternal yes? Does this movie make you want to know more about any of the authors or ideas it raises?

Families who see this movie will also enjoy “Everyone Rides the Carousel” with animation by Faith and John Hubley, based on the works of Erik Erikson.

Think “Fatal Attraction” crossed with “Poltergeist” and considerably dumbed down, and you have an idea of what this movie has in store for you. There are a couple of surprises and chills, but I am sure it is nothing compared to the horror in store for whomever persuaded Harrison Ford to follow up “Random Hearts” with another movie that fails so miserably.

And that horror is nothing compared to what is in store for the idiot who decided that the advertising campaign for this movie should give away one of the two big surprises. To the extent that the first half of the movie had any suspense or interest whatsoever, it has been destroyed by telling the audience that it is all a red herring before they even come in the door.

The story is about Norman (Harrison Ford), a professor of genetics, and his wife Claire (Michelle Pfeiffer), a former cellist who is a bit at a loss after her only daughter leaves for college. But it turns out that her empty nest is not quite as empty as she thought. There seems to be a malevolent presence in the house. Norman, a scientist, does not believe in such things, and sends her to a psychiatrist (the wonderful Joe Morton). At first, Claire thinks it is the spirit of a murdered faculty wife. I won’t compound the mistakes of the ad campaign and give away any more developments, except to say that there are some scary surprises (usually telegraphed by the music and camerawork), some tense and creepy moments, and what lies beneath turns out to be, well, lies. In case you need help on that last part, a store that literally plays a key role is called “The Sleeping Dog.”

The movie seems to try to follow a recipe — two parts Hitchcock to one part ghost story — with elements from “Rear Window,” “Vertigo,” and “Rebecca.” Doors swing open. Hinges squeal. Shadows loom. Music swells. And Michelle Pfeiffer, looking a little skeletal herself, gasps and runs from menaces from this world and the next.

This movie tries to do for baths what “Psycho” did for showers. But it doesn’t work. Hitchcock knew that suspense had to be about something. He brilliantly universalized his own neuroses to tap into the audience’s horrified fascination. Director Robert Zemeckis (“Forrest Gump,” “Back to the Future”) tries to do that here, enticing us with the messy reality under the surface of the apparently perfect couple. But Norman and Claire (and Ford and Pfeiffer) don’t draw us in. Norman’s insecurity over his father’s achievements and Claire’s loss of a sense of self over giving up her career seem colored-by-numbers. And, though they are two of the most talented and entrancing stars ever, neither of them is up to the tasks set before them by this script.

Parents should know that the movie may scare young teens, especially those without much exposure to the conventions of horror movies. Younger teens may also be concerned about the marital conflicts and adultery displayed in the film. The movie has sexual references and situations, brief strong language, and many scenes of peril, suspense, and betrayal.

Families who see this movie should discuss whether they believe in the supernatural, and what they might do if they felt a ghost had moved into their home. Some teens will be interested in finding out about the paranormal research facilities at Duke. Families should also talk about the way that all actions have consequences, on a psychological level, if not a supernatural one.

Families who enjoy this movie will also enjoy Hitchcock suspense classics like “Rear Window,” “Suspicion,” and “Notorious” and, if they like ghost stories, “Poltergeist.”

You don’t have to ask where the heart is in this movie – it’s all heart. As you might expect from a movie based on an Oprah book and starring several of Hollywood’s most talented actresses, this is a chick flick that is as yummy as eating bon-bons in a bubble bath.

All of the elements are there — a plucky heroine with adversity to overcome; a love interest who is cute, patient, and endlessly devoted, and who completely adores the heroine’s daughter; an abashed ex-love interest to realize the error of his ways; and an assortment of women friends, also endlessly devoted, to support and be supported, and everyone just as colorful and quirky as can be. If you loved Fried Green Tomatoes and Steel Magnolias, grab some popcorn and a handkerchief and settle in for another juicy classic in that genre. (Why is it, by the way, that these movies always take place in the rural South? Aren’t there ever any colorful and quirky and endlessly devoted people anywhere else?)

Natalie Portman plays Novalee Nation, a pregnant 17-year-old abandoned at a Wal-Mart by her boyfriend. She moves into the Wal-Mart, keeping careful track of everything she takes, and becomes something of a sensation when she ends up having the baby in the store.

Sister Husband (Stockard Channing), a dotty but affectionate recovering alcoholic, takes her in, with the baby. Novalee makes two other friends — Lexie (Ashley Judd), a kind-hearted nurse who is always looking for Mr. Right but finding herself pregnant instead, and Forney (James Frain) a brilliant librarian with a sad secret.

Novalee and her friends cope with tragedy and learn to “let go of what’s gone and hold on like hell to what they’ve got.” They acknowledge the sadness and unfairness and meanness in life, but they “hold on to the goodness and pass it on.” Novalee and Lexie also have to learn to acknowledge that they deserve to be loved and cared for. Lexie finds out that because a man drives a Buick does not make him a winner. The winner is the man who traded a fabulous car to get custody of his stepchild. Novalee learns that she does not have to endure hardship as punishment for her failings, and that she is good enough for the man she loves.

This movie is worth seeing just to watch five of the finest actresses in movies. Natalie Portman is radiant as Novalee, and it is a pleasure to see her bloom before our eyes. Ashley Judd is delicious as Lexie, casually explaining how she named her children after snack foods and lighting up over each new husband prospect. And then she is heart-wrenching when she must deal with the unthinkable. Joan Cusack is sensational as a music promoter who has seen it all and has no illusions. Sally Fields contributes a magnificent cameo as Novalee’s wayward mother. Just the way she smokes a cigarette tells us everything about her life. And Stockard Channing makes us see how Sister Husband’s life may have left her a little addled on minor details, but utterly clear about the important things.

Parents should know that the movie has some strong language and that Novalee and Lexie have children without being married. Sister Husband prays for forgiveness for “fornication.” Women have sex with men who abandon them. One character has sex with someone who has suffered a loss, and the implication is that this is a form of comfort. A character abuses drugs and alcohol, and three others are alcoholics (two recovering). One character is killed and two others are badly injured. A man attempts to molest two children (off-screen).

Families who see this movie should talk about one character’s view that people lie because they are “scared or crazy or just mean,” about another character’s statement that “home is where they catch you when you fall” and about what makes it possible for some people to survive deprivation and tragedy. They should also talk about what made it difficult for Lexie and Novalee to accept love from good men. And they should talk about the extraordinary kindness the characters show each other, particularly the thoughtful way that Sister Husband invites Novalee and her baby to live with her, making it sound as though Novalee is doing her the favor.

Families who enjoy this movie will also enjoy Fried Green Tomatoes and Steel Magnolias.

Like “Lady and the Tramp,” this story is told from the perspective of dogs, this time two dalmatians, Pongo and Perdita, the cherished pets of Roger and Anita. Anita’s old friend, one of the most notorious villains in movie history, is the aptly named Cruella De Vil. Her henchmen kidnap Perdita’s puppies and eighty-four others so she can make them into a dalmatian fur coat. Pongo and Perdita, with the help of their animal friends, undertake a daring rescue. The puppies are adorable, and the movie is exciting, funny (with a sly poke at television and the kids who watch it), and fun.

Movieline magazine once asked actresses to name the most memorable female villain in the history of the movies — Cruella was at the top of the list. Families who enjoy this movie might also like to see the 1997 live- action version released in 1997, with Glenn Close as Cruella. Close is wonderful, but the movie relies too much on slapstick and the real dogs do not have the personality and range of expression of their animated predecessors. The 2000 sequel, “102 Dalmatians,” also featuring Close, is disappointing.

In “101 Dalmatians,” all-time movie villian Cruella De Vil (Glenn Close) is sent to jail for dognapping with the intention of making the dalmatian puppies into a fur coat. As the sequel begins, Cruella has been rehabilitated through the experimental efforts of a behaviorial scientist. Now, she wants to be known simply as “Ella,” a friend to all animals. So, she is released from prison and assigned to a sweet parole officer named Cloe (Alice Evans), who just happens to own a family of dalmatians. Ella tosses away all her furs, and takes over the “Second Chance” dog sanctuary, run by the adorable Kevin (Ioan Gruffudd).

But “Ella’s” rehabilitation, it turns out, can be reversed by the chimes of London’s famous clock tower, Big Ben. A couple of gongs later, she is back to Cruella and her old passion for a dalmatian puppy coat, only this time she wants it with a hood. And that means that she will need 102 of them. With the help of fashion fur designer Monsier LePelt (Gerard Depardieu) and her loyal henchman Alonzo, they capture the puppies, making it look as though Kevin took them, and take off for Paris, followed by Cloe, Kevin, and their assorted animals, including a parrot who thinks he’s a dog.

It’s better than the first live-action version, though still not as good as the original animated classic. The problem is that other than Cruella, the human characters are bland. In the live-action versions, the dogs do not talk, which makes it much harder to connect to them as characters. That leaves us with not much more than a plot that is already very familiar (Cruella takes dogs, dogs get rescued) along with a great villain, cute puppies, and sensational costumes. Although there are some nice moments and a satisfyingly silly fate for Cruella, the movie is slow going — the credit sequence is livelier than the movie that follows. In a particularly poor choice, there is a scene in which the dogs watch a video of “Lady and the Tramp,” enjoying the “Bella Note” scene while Cloe and Kevin, out on a date, share a plate of spaghetti. It may be intended to induce nostalgia and a sense of connection, but what it induces instead is regret that we are watching this movie instead of that one.

Kids may find parts of the movie confusing, like the brief scenes with “Dr. Pavlov,” who explains that he has cured Cruella with behavior modification and her subsequent relapse, triggered by a clock striking. One of the dalmatian puppies has no spots, and is named “Oddball.” As we expect, she feels bad about being different and then proves her worth. But this mild little message is undercut by having her then develop spots as a part of the happy ending.

Parents should know that the movie includes a lot of comic peril and slapstick humor. A character’s repeated injuries are treated as jokes. The overall theme of catching puppies so that they can be killed to make a fur coat may be upsetting to some children.

Families who see this movie should talk about why Oddball felt bad about not having spots and the way the people who love her tried to help. Kevin explains that he was arrested once for kidnapping dogs from a laboratory, and families may want to discuss how people decide to break rules in defense of more important values. They may also want to talk about what does happen to people in jail and how decisions are made about releasing prisoners.

Families who enjoy this movie should see the original animated version of “101 Dalmatians” and “Lady and the Tramp.”