James Berardinelli

Offers slim pickings for viewers, regardless of whether they're fans of Woody Allen or not. And I'm sure the French will love it.

Seen today, Going My Way looks and feels like a quaint, old-fashioned production that deserves to have been forgotten long ago.

Four Christmases is waste of time and a disappointment, but it's also relatively painless.

By aiming his film at children, director David Mickey Evans strips the movie of all potentially interesting elements, leaving behind material likely to appeal to only the least discriminating viewers.

Carrie is just a bad movie, with only Spacek's performance making significant portions of it watchable. And the film has not improved with age. It looks just as cheap, cheesy, and ineptly made today as it did when it was first released.

For those who do not consider themselves to be among the Sex and the City faithful, this is a painful experience, perhaps the longest 148 minutes likely to be spent in a movie theater this year. Watching grass grow is more dramatically satisfying.

The visuals of a blasted city are impressive but hardly reason to spend $10 to sit in a theater seat and watch a bunch of underdeveloped characters get chased by zombies for an inordinate amount of time.

The Pursuit of Happyness is long, dull, and depressing.

The Long Day Closes is very much the visual equivalent of a verse or a poem: beautiful images, but no narrative.

It's amazing how a lifeless, pointless remake can provoke pangs of nostalgia about a mediocre movie.

As high camp, Willard might have something going for it, but not as a horror movie.

Although Drag Me to Hell mostly fails as horror, it achieves sporadic success as a comedy.

Although not without its merits, it’s far from a standout even when one considers how lackluster the current indie/art house landscape has become.

Eastern Promises is a jumbled string of mob-related clichés that mesh into something that’s derivative and at times uninteresting.

Feel-good tripe: a string of clichés lashed together by a formulaic plot that features underwritten characters and sit-com style humor.

Haphazardly plotted, it not only falls prey to absolute predictability but chooses to have nearly every important conversation (except one) occur off-screen. That sort of laziness is unacceptable and results in a strong sense of audience dissatisfaction.

What Linklater does exceptionally well is open the door on an era seventeen years in the past. This is 1976, from the music and cars...to the people and their attitudes. You'd have to climb into a time machine to get a better view...However, this is light entertainment -- nothing groundbreaking or even especially noteworthy.

Someone please get director Ric Roman Waugh a tripod! Snitch might be a passable action-thriller but it's hard to say because every time an action scene comes along, the image shakes so badly it's impossible to keep anything in view or focus.

Those who love to cry at movies will doubtless get their money's worth from The Man Without a Face. Others, I imagine, will discover in this movie what I did: a curious mixture of scenes that work and situations that seem hopelessly contrived or overly-sentimental. I didn't hate the film, and after the jarring first half-hour, it kept my attention, but The Man Without a Face never strays far from familiar territory.

Like most unintended second installments, this one is superfluous – a remix of moments, scenes, and images from its predecessor infused with the need to make everything bigger and louder.

The film, which has the ingredients for a thoughtful, tense thriller throws away a compelling first half so it can descend into silliness and clichés.

In the end, however, it’s all a rather hollow experience (as is too often the case with existential horror).

Had Home of the Brave presented credible stories about believable characters, it might have been a powerful drama.

The Proposal follows a paint-by-numbers script, it fails one key acid test: it doesn't sell the romance.

Lazily written and indifferently filmed, this sendup of action/spy movies rarely works as a satire and becomes downright unbearable when it attempts to do things like character/relationship building.

Contains multiple ax murders, lesbianism, incest, a hanging, and a storm at sea -- yet, despite all of this seemingly enticing material, it's a bore.

This mean-spirited and unpleasant production is unlikely to find favor with many either inside or outside of Elvis’ fan base.

Kaufman once again reminds us that, without a Jonze or a Gondry to shape and prune the writer’s constructs, we’re destined to become stuck in a frustrating morass of eccentricity and self-indulgence.

"28 Days Later," while not terribly original, was suspenseful and involving. 28 Weeks Later is neither. The characters aren't as sympathetic or interesting.

Perhaps it's the lack of sex or perhaps it's the incessant, banal chattering of the characters, but this movie is more likely to inspire sleep than interest. Breillat has done something I never expected from her: made a boring film.

Despite its name, Beautiful Girls is actually about a group of irritating, twenty-something males whose adolescent attitudes have remained with them well into adulthood.

In terms of checking off the genre’s requisite boxes, You, Me & Tuscany does just enough to earn a passing grade for rom-com devotees who prioritize "vibes" over cinematic standards.

Written without much concern for logic and coherence, the movie wavers between being a drama and a thriller and, as is too often the case in situations like these, doesn’t work as either.

While the story doesn't score points for originality, the themes addressed are important and immediate, and ultimately it's a failure in execution that keeps this film from joining the ranks of a number of recent, memorable pictures chronicling life on the streets and in the ghettos.

A little like watching an episode of the TV show of which Adam Sandler is an alum: "Saturday Night Live." Zohan feels like an extended collection of skits tied together by a flimsy umbrella story.

There’s still quite a bit to like here, from the strong sense of atmosphere to the layers of a Hitchcockian plot, but this is not a complete movie. And when viewers are laughing at a movie rather than with it, something has gone awry.

First-time director Jonathan Watson crafts a film that’s neither funny nor exciting, although it often seems to be straining to be one or the other. It’s a tonal mess and its inconsistencies make it a frustrating viewing experience.

Inept storytelling is one of Lords of Dogtown's great frustrations.

Pretty Persuasion reminds me of a half-hour TV series that has a great pilot episode, then falls apart in subsequent installments. Movies need to grow and change to keep things interesting; this one is stagnant.

Elements of Across the Universe are shockingly awful and the film lasts at least 30 minutes past the bearable stage. But if you like the Beatles and the idea of hearing about 20 covers of their work fills you with a perverse joy, this may be the movie for you.

If not for Bornedal's stylish approach to the material and a couple of effectively chilling sequences, Nightwatch would have been a complete waste of time and effort.

Other than a high cuteness factor, there's not much here. This is a warmed-over, low-end recycling of director Rob Reiner's own "When Harry Met Sally."

Death of a President is celluloid mediocrity. It's neither interesting nor convincing.

This is yet another early 2025 movie where there’s just enough material in the film to assemble an intriguing three-minute trailer but not enough to make the other 120 minutes of more than passing interest.

The comedy is mostly restricted to one-liners, some of which aren't funny. And the action is uninspired, barely tapping the vast potential of an amusement park chase film.

There's enough in the film to assemble an intriguing two-minute trailer. Unfortunately, the movie has an additional 92 minutes to fill and that's not something it's able to do with much success. The problems with Oh, Hi! relate not to its conception but its execution.

A profoundly unsatisfying experience - and that doesn't consider the derivative nature of the plot and a lackluster performance by the lead actor.

Although there are numerous problems with Fifty Shades Freed, the third and final installment of E.L. James’ trilogy, the fundamental one is also the most obvious: the lack of a compelling story.

Bridesmaids is bipolar filmmaking at its most disconcerting, with changes in tone so abrupt that they can cause whiplash. In part because of this and in part because the writing is often lazy and self-indulgent, the movie rarely works.

Unevenly paced and with a miscast lead, the movie fails to get us to care about its automaton main character as she goes through the motions in a generic spy thriller.

Today, it feels like a parody and at times slips into “so bad it’s enjoyable” territory.

Is it A Bigger Splash or A Bigger Bore? Despite a strong cast, gorgeous cinematography, and a suffocating sense of sexual tension, this movie takes far too long to get off the ground.

While it’s possible to conceive a compelling story constructed out of the strands forming Joy Ride’s threadbare cloak, that narrative would require a better screenplay and a series of grounded, less ostentatious performances.

It's easily the weakest entry into this ever-expanding category and is inferior to its subtitled source material. Quarantine implies "stay away" and that's not bad advice.

The length is the film's undoing. No matter how tantalizing the premise, overexposure leads inevitably to boredom.

The most disappointing aspect of The Iron Lady is that some of the most memorable hallmarks of Thatcher's time in power are glossed over.

Insultingly, Frankenheimer concludes the movie with a short sermon about the fine line that separates man from beast. If the director actually wanted to get this point across, he should have worked it into the film rather than tacking it on as an afterthought. It is, after all, an integral aspect of the source material. That it has been so thoroughly excised from the main plot isn't The Island of Dr. Moreau's only problem, but it's symptomatic of the flawed mindset that went into planning this occasionally incoherent and ultimately disappointing motion picture.

Legend seems like a movie Scorsese might have made if he wasn’t paying attention - the elements are present but they are clumsily assembled and the outcome underwhelms.

It’s a surprisingly flat bio-pic of King’s life between 1972-73 with little attempt to make Riggs into anything more than a two-dimensional caricature/foil.

This is a dull, lifeless production that will find favor only with those with an insider's perspective or who feel compelled to praise the acclaimed director's every film, no matter how out-of-touch and pretentious it may be.

Sluggish, conventional, and almost completely lacking in energy.

The delicate air of romance that often makes this sort of film worthwhile is absent. French Kiss does it by the numbers, not from the heart.

Domino is a lackluster, hard-to-swallow police procedural with soap opera-ish subplots and flat characters.

This new interpretation does few things better than the original, and many things worse.

A mostly failed attempt to merge sci-fi with satire, Mickey 17 suffers from a fragmented narrative and a scenery-chewing performance from Mark Ruffalo that belongs in a different movie (perhaps Poor Things).

The good news first: The Alamo is probably the most historically accurate depiction yet to reach the screen of the famous siege. The bad news is that "historically accurate" does not necessarily translate into "dramatically successful."

The best segments of the film occur early, as the setting is established with a dose of "Friday Night Lights" normalcy followed by an invasion that recalls "Independence Day."

Polanski abandons all attempts at subtlety. The resulting production ends up far too heavy-handed to be considered powerful drama.

I'm almost embarrassed to admit that I liked parts of Bordello of Blood -- it is, after all, a pretty sick motion picture. Alas, the sense of bloody good fun gets stretched too thin. There's not enough material here to sustain the running length, and the film goes through dead patches (most of which occur when Miller isn't on screen). All of the stuff with Chris Sarandon is a waste of time that should have been relegated to the cutting room floor -- except that would have trimmed Bordello of Blood to an unacceptably short sixty minutes or so.

With a theatrical trailer far better than the actual picture, Schroeder's film delivers little more than a healthy dose of disappointment. The picture is watchable, but nothing about it will linger, except perhaps the feeling that, with a more polished script, it might have been significantly better.

This isn't a family-friendly film - anyone over the age of about 8 will immediately recognize that significant chunks of the story don't make sense.

Criminally underwritten characters result in actors like Hugh Jackman, Sigourney Weaver, and Dev Patel (Slumdog Millionaire) having little to do.

Half of what's going on is never explained, and what is explained, doesn't make much sense. And that's just the beginning of the problems encountered in director Paul Anderson's ("Mortal Kombat") poorly executed endeavor.

Taken as a whole, Mad Dog and Glory is a disappointingly mixed bag. What's on the screen is passably diverting, but I often felt as if I was seeing only half the movie. With this intriguing premise and cast, the film should have offered more complete entertainment.

The core problem with Girls Trip is its length. What might be a fun, frivolous affair at 90 minutes turns into an endurance contest as the clock ticks toward the two-hour mark.

Unfortunately, although there’s an opportunity here to do something compelling, that opportunity is largely wasted. Perfunctory characterization, lackluster acting, an inability to sustain tension, and an incoherent ending waste most of the goodwill resulting from the premise.

For those who are interested in observing the habits of real lions and viewing genuine life-and- death struggles in Africa, I direct your attention to The Leopard Son, which is still in theatrical release. That well-constructed documentary has stronger drama, tension, and cinematography than the supposedly-real story told in The Ghost and the Darkness. True, it's missing Tom Wilkinson sneering, Michael Douglas smirking, and Val Kilmer looking bored, but no movie can boast everything.

As good as the lead actor is, he's not enough to save this picture from landing on the scrap-heap of uninspired, derivative, and grotesquely distasteful character studies. Ferrara is definitely no Martin Scorsese.

The Devil Wears Prada 2 is harmless enough, although it exists more as an afterthought than a legitimate continuation of a story that was fully told twenty years ago after the first 105 minutes.

Ant-Man and the Wasp offers nothing close to what we have come to expect from entries into the MCU. Plodding, repetitive, replete with technobabble nonsense and lifeless action, this is easily the worst-written of any of the 20 MCU offerings and may be the worst all-around film featuring a Marvel superhero since Sony rebooted Spider-Man.

Because of the potential of the idea and Cronenberg's reputation as a film maker, it's a real disappointment to watch eXistenZ fall apart the way it does.

What "Eternal Sunshine" did with magic and whimsy, The Science of Sleep accomplishes with confusion and pretentiousness.

It's tame and rather bland, and the laughter it generates is half-hearted. Director Jesse Peretz commits the unpardonable sin of wasting the considerable comedic talent of Paul Rudd.

In a way, it’s almost worth recommending Men for the first 70 minutes. At that point, a quick exit would preserve the illusion that this is some sort of modern horror classic. For those who stick around, however, the final assessment isn’t likely to be nearly as favorable.

Any curiosity surrounding the film may have been misplaced – it’s a bit of a bore.

Despite its flashy production design and big budget, it's shallow and unsatisfying and primarily interesting for what it says about the views of society when it was made.

With a cast featuring Ben Stiller, Owen Wilson, Robin Williams, and Ricky Gervais, one has a right to expect something amusing from Night at the Museum. Oddly, not only is the movie unfunny, but it rarely tries for laughs.

Relies on uncomfortable black humor and moments of sincere drama to involve viewers. But everything is encased in artifice and the movie becomes a chore to take in.

Your reaction to Double Team will probably depend largely on how you feel about concussive action films. While this one is better than most, it still falls considerably short of what I consider to be a "good" movie. One thing's for sure, though: like most flicks that boast more stuntmen than cast members, Double Team is unlikely to function as a Sominex. You may not enjoy it, but you won't fall asleep. And that's the best thing I can say about this loud, brash, ultimately pointless morsel of eye candy.

After a promising beginning, this movie crashes and burns.

The best thing that can be said about Welcome to Me, as written by Eliot Laurence and directed by Shira Piven, is that it attempts to portray the real Borderline Personality Disorder as opposed to the Hollywood movie version of the disease. Unfortunately, that's about all it does.

From that point on, the movie becomes distressingly predictable, with nary a surprise to be found.

In his latest diatribe, Moore throws everything at the viewer including the kitchen sink and hopes something – anything – will stick. Sadly, not much does.

It's tough to make a good tearjerker - one need look no further than this misfire to understand why.

Jumanji takes approximately one-hundred minutes for four people to play a board game. The result isn't much more fun or involving than watching a few friends play Monopoly.

There are moments that sparkle, but the whole is not a worthy sum of its parts, and, while much of what Moretti does is interesting, that doesn't mean that it's enjoyable.

Jamie Foxx, compelled to take the role for personal reasons, turns in what could arguable be the best performance of a varied career. (Others might say that the distinction belongs to his work in Ray.)

Unfortunately, Never Say Never Again is a poor excuse for the veteran actor's return. The humor is over-the-top, the direction is pedestrian, and the storyline drags. Were it not for the simple pleasure of seeing Connery playing 007 one more time, this film would have been nearly unwatchable. All things considered, it's not a very good movie, but at least Connery's charisma salvages parts of it. Unfortunately, Never Say Never Again is a poor excuse for the veteran actor's return. The humor is over-the-top, the direction is pedestrian, and the storyline drags. Were it not for the simple pleasure of seeing Connery playing 007 one more time, this film would have been nearly unwatchable. All things considered, it's not a very good movie, but at least Connery's charisma salvages parts of it.