Desmond Ryan

Vera retains her dignity throughout, which is more than can be said for human company, and she seems to be having more fun. That's as it should be in an elephant comedy one soon forgets. [04 Nov 1996, p.D06]

Sorely needs the injection of skepticism - a quality that would have been even more useful when Pollack was mulling over doing Random Hearts in the first place.

Surely there is a good comedy to be framed around that strange limbo of powerless celebrity we reserve for our ex-presidents. My Fellow Americans merely proves that it has yet to be made. [20 Dec 1996, p.45]

The jokes are framed by a silly plot about a missing jewel - a prize sought by assorted thieves and law enforcement types and unwittingly protected by Magoo. Of course, Nielsen saves the day, but there's no way he can save the movie.

Feeble and formulaic.

Tedious sports inspirational that genuflects before the mythology of Notre Dame football with the story of a walk-on who fulfilled a lifelong dream of suiting up for the Irish. [26 May 1994, p.E05]

Has its moments of charm, but it's ultimately a fascinating failure that surely looked better on paper than it does on the screen.

A comedy that belongs back on the drawing board.

The muddled huddle that is Necessary Roughness is one long fumble strewn with offensive lines.

Leaves you in no doubt of where the talent is in what would otherwise be a throwaway picture.

There is no discernible train of thought in Under Siege 2, but it serves up exactly what Seagal fans want - a movie where the body count is higher than the IQ needed to enjoy it. [17 July 1995, p.D01]

Strictly for adventurous moviegoers, a peculiar experience -- a polemic that is at once watchable and repellent.

It's an awkward mix, and Simon Wincer, a director with considerable experience in animal movies, can't make the ingredients work consistently. [28 Jul 1995, p.14]

Illsley's fine cast, with a riotous contribution from William H. Macy as the sheriff who falls for Harry, plays out the comedy without condescension.

In returning to what is basically the same premise, Carpenter gives us an update as well as a sequel. [09 Aug 1996, p.5]

The stiff banalities and trite dialogue of the genre hardly suit his flamboyant comic style. And whatever life Murphy manages to bring to the few moments between crashes and explosions are done in by the lifeless, if beautiful, presence of Ejogo and the completely wasted talent of Michael Rapaport as his partner. Ejogo's London accent is gratingly out of place on the streets of San Francisco. So, too, is Murphy. [17 Jan 1997, p.03]

Lame and misguided homage, which reduces satire to vulgar silliness for kids.

The scenario looms as a brain-dead invitation for the stars to embarrass themselves, and Company Man wastes little time in fulfilling that glum suspicion.

First Kid is a surprisingly apolitical comedy that settles for general purpose humor aimed unabashedly - and pretty lamely - at kids. [30 Aug 1996, p.03]

Piously acted, stiffly directed, and infused with a view of world politics that might charitably be described as delusional.

Plunges into a void created by a stale and incredibly derivative plot.

In his peculiar, confused and grossly violent debut, Texas writer- director C.M. Talkington doesn't seem to know whether he is dumping on the road-movie genre (felony division) or celebrating it. [09 Jan 1995, p.D02]

A temptation that can be easily and safely resisted.

If you are unlucky enough to stray into the presence of Bats, I strongly recommend you follow their wise example. Hang from the ceiling and go to sleep.

If Fleming had played everything as a black comedy with a satirical send-up of high school life - like Heathers - he might have had something. But The Craft has no consistency and certainly no art as it drifts into an unprepossessing display of special-effects magic. [03 May 1996, p.08]

A pointless modern morality play set in various sleazy locales that offer sex, drugs, assorted perversions, bare-knuckle fights, and even Russian roulette where lives are wagered for money.

Really lost in space.

The Frighteners approaches the mysteries of near-death and out-of-body experiences with a script that is - even by this summer's prevailing standard of dumbness - out of its mind. [19 July 1996, p.03]