David Sterritt

In sum, Van Helsing is yet another video game disguised as a wide-screen epic. Here's hoping the box office drives a firm wooden stake through its hokey Hollywood heart.

Carpenter pulls out all the action-adventure stops, but he and coscripter Larry Sulkis forgot to write dialogue the audience could listen to without howling in disbelief.

This low-budget drama tries very hard to convey messages of tolerance and compassion, but it's too weakly acted and directed to have much impact.

Mildly entertaining for a while; think "Stand by Me" meets "Alien," with a soupçon of "Starship Troopers" tossed in.

The picture is intriguing and obnoxious in equal measure; even Berkowitz gets tired of the game before it's over, but there are some laughs and surprises along the way.

The result is a run-of-the-mill fantasy, competently produced but disappointingly familiar, from its "Forbidden Planet" premise to the digital-clock countdown near the end.

So sloppily made that it's barely coherent.

It's rare for an Egyptian movie to look so closely and unflinchingly at class conflict and other forms of social disarray, but lively acting keeps the story engaging even when it wanders and meanders.

Edwards's mess isn't so fine. In trying to revive the great tradition of rough-and-tumble farce, he strains so hard for vigorous slapstick and wild gags that he forgets to be funny...In the end, there's something basically askew when a movie gives its heroes a valuable piano to move -- a classic Laurel and Hardy situation -- and then makes it an easy job, without a single teetering bridge to carry it across! Stan and Ollie, where are you when we need you?

Crash-lands as disastrously as the heroes and never quite recovers its wits.

The picture is equally long on eye-dazzling camera work and New Age sentimentality.

A romantic comedy that's pleasant, if not exactly spellbinding.

While the story and acting are the opposite of subtle, young moviegoers may enjoy the action and suspense.

Very broad, very brash ''film noir'' satire...The action is fast, flashy, sometimes funny, always loud. [13 June 1986, p.25]

The premise is promising, but Herzfeld cares more about sensationalism than substance, and portions of the picture are far nastier than they had to be.

While it may supply giggles and shivers to preteens, grownups should think twice before entering this all-too-haunted house.

Wants to appear bold and liberated, but it seems awfully solemn about the subculture it explores.

Too bad (Arnold) can't save the movie from it's superstitious clap-trap, sadistic violence, and sheer silliness.

Starts quirky, grows steadily darker, doesn't build much excitement.

Dull despite its suspense-driven story.

It's picaresque, all right, but full of ethnic stereotypes, and filmed much too blandly to compete with the superb ''Black Stallion'' of a few years ago.

Unexpectedly entertaining, if you're willing to put up with the picture's stagy look, over-the-top moods, and heavy doses of vulgarity.

Travolta and Jackson have some effective scenes, but Nielsen is lacking in charisma, and James Vanderbilt's screenplay ought to be court-martialed.

The adventure is vulgar and violent, although the special effects are impressive.

The comedy isn't quite as crude as it sounds, but there's not much of value here beyond a little lively acting.

The plot isn't very original, but the acting and dialogue have a low-key realism that packs more emotional punch than a dozen of the standard-issue romantic dramas crowding the independent-film scene.

There's nothing special about this movie -- it's just business as usual for today's debased action-movie genre.

House of D, arrives in theaters this week, after debuting at the Tribeca Film Festival last year. I'm sorry to report it's the opposite of impressive.

Romano tries hard, but it takes real big-screen talent to draw laughs and emotions from material as flimsy and formulaic as the script.

There's a little humor, a little suspense, and not a hint of reality. You'll tune out quickly, unless you're 11.

Although it has more clever ideas than actual laughs, the screenplay by Alan Zweibel and Andrew Scheinman packs more on-target social satire than any film in recent memory, and zesty performances keep it clicking along at a rapid pace.

This remake stays close to the eponymous 1979 horror movie it's based on, except for being precisely 10,000 times scarier.

Add marvelously imaginative directing -- finally Yakin fulfills the promise he showed in "Fresh" almost a decade ago -- and you have a colorful, creative, deliciously frolicsome romp.

Keaton doesn't have quite enough filmmaking savvy to balance the story's heart-wrenching and smile-coaxing aspects.

Frankly, it's excruciating to watch.

There are a few clever lines and Cleese has some sensational moments, but that's not enough to make the farce seem fresh.

A dark comedy about a bachelor party gone awry, it is excessively violent, ghoulish, and gory. Very Bad Things is lack-of-taste taken to the extreme.

The story is inspirational in a superficial way, but the filmmakers focus so exclusively on their attractive heroine that the picture loses any real connection with Africa.

Viewers of that age may overlook the contrived situations and the awful acting, which consists mainly of frozen grins. Nobody else will.

The cast is cute and the action is colorful, but the comedy isn't as captivating as it sets out to be.

The most entertaining scenes focus on the lovable louts and losers who share the boardinghouse where the protagonist - based on a comic-book character billed as a superhero without superpowers - prepares his grisly exploits. The rest is mayhem.

A number of good actors, including Kevin Kline and Susan Sarandon, are utterly wasted in this idiotic story, which can't make up its mind whether it's a comedy or a drama. [17 Jan 1989, p.10]

Suffers from a lack of chemistry.

This dark psychological story falls short in terms of filmmaking and acting, but it's original enough to stand out from the crowd.

The movie's heart is in the right place, but it looks and sounds regrettably bogus.

As dopey as its heroes, and the cast's admirable energy isn't enough to keep the story punching through the final round.

Sol doesn't knit the complicated story into a coherent flow, but there are many visually striking moments along the way.

This low-key drama is always warm and mellow, although it doesn't build much of an emotional charge.

Burns is one of the great entertainers of all time, but he's written out of the story much too soon, leaving us little to watch except Schlatter doing an endless Burns imitation. [08 Apr 1988, p.21]

Conjures up enough involving moments to create some drama.

Alex & Emma isn't nearly as clever as Reiner's classic "Misery," a very different look at a male writer and his female companion. But it's diverting fun.

The dialogue is dumb ('zilla has the best lines, "arrrrrggh" and "maaroarrr"), New York is waterlogged, and Godzilla isn't on screen enough.

The director, Roman Polanski, is often at his weakest in the comedy field, and the insipid vulgarities of this picture are poor substitutes for inventive gags. Yet he shows some of his erstwhile ingenuity when he crowds the screen with sumptuously filmed images of richly costumed characters, much in the manner of his underrated ''Dance of the Vampires'' a number of years ago. [25 July 1986, p.23]

Muddled screenwriting and uninspired directing.

Strains to be shockingly original but winds up as cheap and cheesy as its characters.

A few mildly amusing gags don't outweigh the trite situations and mean-spirited attitude of this comedy.

Illuminating, disturbing, evenhanded.

Quirky acting combines with Ferrara's dark, brooding style to give the throwaway story a noteworthy measure of dramatic and cinematic interest.

The movie works fairly well as a pitch-dark comedy, and very well as a dead-on satire of upward mobility and its discontents.

The comedy is shamelessly stupid and flagrantly vulgar by turns.

The computer-driven effects are impressive, but the adventure is hampered by a flat screenplay, dull acting, and just a hint as to why the dark side of the Force will eventually transform cute little Anakin into the evil Darth Vader.

If the heroine really had seven days left, she wouldn't waste it watching stuff like this.

More concerned with quickening our pulses than broadening our minds.

Adam Sandler is funny as the volatile hero, and the screenplay is just abrasive enough to keep the story surprising.

Intermittently insightful, but a disappointment from the talented Munch.

The comedy as a whole is very slight.

Opium- addicted Allan Quatermain becomes none other than Sean Connery. At least he gives a real movie-star performance, which is more than the other gentlemen manage. Extraordinary? Balderdash!

At 225 minutes long, it feels like a trilogy in itself. That wouldn't be a problem if it had energy and imagination, but those qualities are missing, as is any sense of historical or philosophical context.

Beneath its regrettably banal surface, White Noise raises the creepy question of whether intimidating, even malign forces may be lurking in those fancy gadgets that fill our living rooms and offices.

Newman's magnetic face isn't enough to raise this intermittently amusing thriller above the ordinary caper-comedy crowd.

It's as forgettable as they come.

As soon as I finish writing this review, I'm going to try traveling a few hours in the past. That way, I can improve my life by skipping this movie!

The story is a string of sub-Scorsese clichés, and if engaging actors like Malkovich and Hopper seem to be sleepwalking through their roles, imagine how unwatchable Diesel manages to be.

It would take a more expert director than Newman to pull the lumpy Harry & Son screenplay into shape, with its many trite scenes that can't decide whether they're funny or sad or in between. [19 Apr 1984, p.25]

Ultimately, it's more an emotional hodgepodge than a compassionate look at real human problems.

So vulgar and incoherent that even Hackman's gifts can't score a touchdown.

This intensely topical satire tackles a wide range of important issues, from corporate whistle-blowing to the toll sexual license takes on stable family structures.

The movie's one good performance is given by the house, full of ominous inscriptions, inscrutable chambers, and fiendish machines. The human characters are played with various degrees of manic overacting.

Santa Claus's bag couldn't hold as many clichés as the screenplay dishes out.

Polson's well-filmed thriller swims down the usual lanes for this sort of story, and everyone looks way too old for senior year; but many of the suspense scenes work fine, and Bradford is terrific as the endangered hero.

The story takes place in 2013, but you'd hardly know it from the age-old clichés Kevin Costner purloins to tell this overblown action yarn, which relies so heavily on ideas borrowed from John Ford westerns that the Hollywood giant should have been credited as codirector; too bad Costner can't invest them with Ford's kind of life and originality, though.

Animated version of the Rogers & Hammerstein musical.

George Clooney looks great in a cape, but this fourth installment in the series has invested so much capital in razzle-dazzle special effects that it hardly matters whose head is under the pointy-eared helmet.

Breillat is a smart, serious observer of sexuality's often disruptive role in human life, but this existential drama is sadly pretentious.

The gentle story, told via old-fashioned "flat" animation, is perfect for the very youngest viewers.

The film means well, but each scene gets clobbered by sappy screenwriting.

Skillfully acted, idealized, uneven.

The first Revenge of the Nerds was a pretty stupid movie. But it was partly redeemed by its genuine affection for the nerds themselves - it made us like them a lot, and you couldn't help feeling good when they came out on top. Nerds in Paradise is also a stupid movie, with more than its share of cheap vulgarity, and it doesn't do so well at making the heroes really lovable.

The acting is sincere and the camera work is pretty, but this art-movie variation on "The Sixth Sense" doesn't have enough energy to fulfill the high promise of Berliner's previous picture, the enchanting "Ma vie en rose."

Rob Cohen's movie has flashes of wit, but there's little substance to the story, and Draco's charms are surrounded by too much graphic violence. [31 May 1996, p.13]

Admirers of "Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?" and other Dick literature will enjoy this nonfiction look at the writer, his career, and his eccentricities, some of which were as bizarre as his fiction.

This romantic comedy is so awfully misjudged and ineptly executed in every department that, while it isn't quite a contender for the "so bad it's good" category, this critic was nonetheless dabbing tears of laughter from his eyes.

Repetitious teen-targeted fluff.

The sweetest thing about Sweet November (a remake of the 1968 movie) is the on-screen magic between Charlize Theron and Keanu Reeves. But that's pretty much where the magic ends.

As coarse, vulgar, adolescent action comedies go, Beverly Hills Ninja comes across as relatively tame - less profanity, less violence, less sex than typical for this "Naked Gun" wannabe.

The blend of live action and animation is competently done, but the subtly mean-spirited screenplay has more sour meows than hearty laughs.

Even as they've smoothed the novel's rough edges, moreover, the filmmakers have tried to cram a maximum number of its incidents into about two hours of screen time. This gives the picture a hectic pace that adds to its feeling of weightlessness and unreality. Poor casting, especially in the major roles played by Tom Hanks and Melanie Griffith, doesn't help.

Cube is cute and Long is lovely, but the youngsters are too brash and smug to bear. At least there's a heartwarming end to the excursion.

The film tries to revive the sort of good-hearted optimism associated with Frank Capra classics of the 1940s era, but pictures like "It's a Wonderful Life" and "Mr. Smith Goes to Washington" were never so simplistic, syrupy, or tedious to sit through.

The bad thing about A Guy Thing isn't the talent of its stars but the warmed-over triteness of the material they're forced to work with.

Cartoonish effects and overacting make this more corn than catnip.

Blending animation and live action, this ferocious fantasy is hopelessly vulgar in ways never dreamed of by "Who Framed Roger Rabbit."

Frivolous but fun, somewhere between a comic "French Connection" and the craziest Nascar race you never saw.

(Jonze and Kaufman's) work is so bold, funny, and original that it's hard to believe they aren't wide-screen veterans.

Everyone tries very hard to make the story sweet and funny, but the soggy screenplay defeats them every time.

Surely it couldn't be meant as dramatic realism! But it is. And amazingly, the movie gets worse as it goes along.

The repetitious script -- cobbled together by no fewer than five writers -- shows interest in nothing beyond action-centered plot gimmicks and tame romantic shenanigans.

The acting is solid and the heroine's quirky dialogue is amusing for a while. But repetitious writing and a weakly constructed story turn the promising premise into a disappointing mishmash of crime, politics, and show business.

The movie starts with insights about the need for more humane values in health care, then buries them under an avalanche of frivolities, vulgarities, and clichés.

Sam Firstenberg directed the mindless mayhem. [15 Nov 1984, p.47]

Most of the laughs come near the beginning, before Rick Friedberg's klutzy directing becomes annoyingly monotonous.

The movie has a well-meaning message about love and loyalty being the bedrock of real family values, but its good intentions sag as the story trades its air of mischievous comedy for trite sentimentality, arbitrary plot twists, and enough maudlin melodramatics to sustain a tabloid TV series.

Even the delightful Duff disappoints.

Costner is convincing as the hero, ably supported by Joe Morton as a short-tempered supervisor and Kathy Bates as a feisty neighbor. Dragonfly has little chance of "Ghost"-like popularity, though.

Lively acting and stylish directing make this an engaging comedy-drama, although its attitude toward guns and violence is disconcertingly romantic.

In its depiction of the Las Vegas nightclub scene and in its own cinematic strategies, the film is quite instructive about the intersection of sex, money, and entertainment in some areas of popular American culture. [29 Sept 1995]

The plot is predictable, the characters are cliches, and all the actors look and sound like refugees from a movie Martin Scorsese would have made vastly better three decades ago.

As the hero, Christopher Reeve oozes with sincerity in the world-peace scenes - he helped write the story of the film, and this may be why he overdoes it. But he's also funny when he gets back to being klutzy Clark Kent, so the movie doesn't completely drown in its own good intentions.

Strenuously unfunny sequel.

The story is nonsensical, the filmmaking is monotonous, and the acting - aside from Marlon Brando's brilliant cameo as the cultist - is weak. [14 May 1997, p.14]

One thing is certain: It's a bomb trying to be a hit, and at that it'll never succeed.

Unoriginal.

Three brief comedies filmed in English for a German television series. The most thoughtful is Seidelman's contribution, The Dutch Master."

The movie's most original features are the awfulness of the dialogue and the hamminess of Richard Jordan's performance as a Nazilike policeman. He seems to have given up on the project long before director Alan Johnson ran out of film. [28 Nov 1986, p.39]

The plot is hamstrung by trite formulas, and there's too much violence and family tension for very young viewers. Shaquille O'Neal is likable as the title character, though.

It's all idiotic but energetic, directed by Jan De Bont in his usual techno-action style.

How could such a high-octane cast produce such low-octane horror?

This is fatuous twaddle with a nasty, misogynistic edge.

Violent and vapid, but the visual jolts may please horror buffs.

Rarely has a film poured so much energy into generating fiery emotions, yet remained so icy cold in its effect...Revolution has been dazzlingly shot by cinematographer Bernard Lutic in a process called System 35, but so much visual grandeur seems more embarrassing than engaging when the dramatic element is such a mess.

The picture's real interest lies in detailing the villain's sadistic crimes, though, and this is rarely fun or edifying to watch.

Its main message is that everyone should believe and behave in exactly the same way. Groupthink wins again!

The picture is a little too pretentious to achieve its artistic and emotional goals, but its ambition and imagination are impressive at times.

Intended as a parody of B-movie fantasies from the '50s, this satire more directly lampoons kiddie thrillers like "Captain Video," putting it perilously close to the pop-culture trash it aims to mock.

Has moments of real visual creativity.

Shallow and sentimental in the sappiest Hollywood tradition.

The acting is weak, largely because many of the performers seem uncomfortable speaking English. The last half-hour works up a fair amount of action and suspense, though.

A private eye enters a horrific world of degrading sex and bottom-feeding pornographers.

Not even veteran talents like Dukakis and Scheider can surmount the artificial dialogue, arbitrary plot twists, and wan humor of this disappointing comedy-drama.

Cumming's antic acting is the only asset of this boisterous comedy.

The Griswalds drive to Las Vegas "because half the fun is getting there," but the fun never begins in this disappointing sequel to the Vacation slapstick comedies.

A lovestruck Californian kidnaps a neighbor's dog as a way of getting her attention.

Sordid and sleazy, although the lead performances are hard to fault.

Different viewers might find different portions worthy of anything from zero to four stars, but anyone with a faint heart or weak stomach should stay miles away from it. [24 Oct. 1997, p.13]

In all it's a pleasant surprise if not a great comedy.

What ensues is a Halloween-style blood bath accompanied by graphic sex scenes.

There are a few amusing moments, helped by subdued performances from Affleck and Gandolfini, but this is no "Bad Santa" despite its obvious ambition to play similar holiday tricks.

The slasher-movie genre may never die, but can't its perpetrators think up variations more clever than this by-the-numbers rehash?

The acting is uneven and most of the romancing seems so mismatched.

The junior Giannini, who has inherited Giancarlo's handsome looks, portrays his mercurial character with energy and flair. Madonna doesn't. Indeed, it's hard to remember the last time a certified celebrity gave a performance so monotonous, unimaginative, and all-around tiresome to watch.

Perry and Hurley don't have much chemistry, and the story is so dumb you might want to sue it for stupidity.

So stupid you'll wish you'd brought a duffel bag of your own.

This boatload of clichés is strenuously unfunny.

Scott Wilson gives a surprisingly lively performance as the apparent villain of the story, while good guys Judd Nelson and Ally Sheedy strive to out-bland each other. The action is generally vicious, vulgar, and vapid. [9 May 1986, p.25]

Often trite and predictable but grudgingly likable in the end.

Everyone works hard, but the results are sadly short of style and personality or irony and intelligence.

Preposterous plot, bad acting, and dialogue that provokes more laughs than shivers.

Adam Sandler's creative songs and silly expressions on "Saturday Night Live" may have turned him into a celebrity, but this movie based solely on his antics doesn't work.

Paying homage to drug comedies of the '70s, Half Baked is high on getting high and low on laughs.

Hop away from this one fast!

The thriller makes up in moody weirdness what it lacks in horror-tale originality.

Downright awful.

A strong candidate for worst picture of the year.

Be warned that the results are in aggressively awful taste from beginning to end.

Fans of unregenerate underground moviemaking will have a ball.

Get cracking, filmmakers. It'll take a lot of doing to beat this creep-show for worst picture of the year. It's about a computer programmer who beats the devil in a series of spooky challenges. No fewer than seven directors worked on it, and it doesn't make any sense at all. [23 May 1985, p.25]

Pauly Shore is less a comedian than a class clown, and his dim-witted mugging makes Jim Carrey's antics seem creative triumphs by comparison. Vapid, vulgar, and more to the point, not funny.

The results are unbelievably tedious, but Mansfield buffs may find it intermittently worthwhile.

Made near the end of Buñuel's career, it's not his greatest movie, but it contains some of his most memorable moments.

With its skillful blend of documentary, confessional, and comic moods, this is one of the infrequent avant-garde movies that's as amusing and entertaining as it is artful and sophisticated.