James Berardinelli

The motion picture version of Bewitched is a travesty of monumental proportions that belongs in the "What the hell were they thinking?" category.

This is the film to watch when pretty much everything else has been sold out and the only remaining choices are The Back-Up Plan and the latest Rob Schneider opus.

Perhaps in the hands of a visionary genius in touch with their inner child, it might have been possible to achieve something better than an overlong throwaway distraction for a preschooler. In the hands of these filmmakers, however, it feels like a soulless cash-grab – an attempt to tap into the family-friendly frenzy that has emerged this summer.

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.

It's a little sad that The Messengers is ultimately a good candidate for burial in a toxic waste dump because there are some good elements contained herein.

To be fair, The Forest boasts a promising premise but squanders most of its goodwill as a result of narrative shortcuts and contrivances, horror film clichés, and haphazard editing.

Lacks the kind of forceful, attention-grabbing chemistry that elevates a movie in this genre from a passable diversion to a lasting source of entertainment.

Doesn't have the decency to end when it should.

Words cannot express how weary I am of watching lifeless, hollow movies like My Life in Ruins - generic romantic comedies that have no clue when it comes to either "romance" or "comedy."

The Happening is a movie to walk out of, sleep through, or - best of all - not to bother with.

The Dark Tower isn’t a bad movie even though there’s a clumsiness to its narrative and a cheapness to its appearance.

The Last Witch Hunter feels like the first episode of a would-be series although, unlike some similar endeavors, it tells a stand-alone story.

Chock-full of unfunny humor, bland characters with nonsensical motivations, and tedious subplots, the entire endeavor might have been shelved if not for the participation of De Niro, Uma Thurman, Cheech Marin, Jane Seymour, and Christopher Walken. A cast like that doesn’t get swept under the rug or sent direct-to-video.

It's dull, childish, and uninspired.

Dumb, juvenile comedy has its place when it's funny. Unfortunately, too often in Get Hard, it's not.

At least there are some decent special effects to distract the viewer's attention from the story, right? Wrong. The visual effects aren't much better than those found in any typical video game system. They're repetitive and unimaginative.

The biggest problem with Law Abiding Citizen, however, is that the plot is just plain dumb.

Yes, this film is worse than "Cliffhanger," Stallone's last venture into chaos.

If all you're looking for is breasts, blood, and gore, this film hits pay dirt. None of the killings are terribly inventive, but they are plentiful, and why bother being devious when axes, machetes, knives, and pointed sticks will do the job just as well?

Celtic Pride has numerous weaknesses, most obviously an overly-happy ending that seems distressingly sincere (as opposed to lampooning this kind of finale). The film also exhibits an unwillingness to divorce itself completely from sports film cliches and conventions. On the whole, however, Celtic Pride is surprisingly effective and entertaining. You don't even have to be a Celtics fan to appreciate it. In fact, considering who becomes the butt of the film's ultimate joke, perhaps it's best if you're not one.

For acting to be this bad in movie not directed by Michael Bay or George Lucas, it has to be intentional.

Belly-flopping into the superhero movie pool, Thunder Force illustrates what happens when filmmakers take a moderately interesting premise and surround it with witless writing, cringe-inducing acting, stagnant action, humor-deprived comedy, and feckless drama.

I found the most extreme material to be so tasteless that it voided all comedy.

Outside of a clever re-invention of how the North Pole works, Red One doesn’t do a lot right, which is surprising considering that the project re-teams director Jake Kasdan and actor Dwayne Johnson, who made the thoroughly enjoyable Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle.

The final minute of Halloween 4 remains as unsettling today as it was during its 1988 theatrical run. The real reason to see this movie is not for the predictable build-up, but for the cliffhanger provided by director Dwight H. Little and screenwriter Alan B. McElroy.

A dreadful, hackneyed piece of cinema.

At best, this is a late-night time-waster to be watched on Prime Video when all better options have been exhausted.

The movie is frequently incomprehensible and, on those occasions when it makes sense, the viewer may wish it didn’t.

The Man from Toronto is derivative and forgettable; nothing about the venue in which it is seen will change that.

Jingle All the Way is forgettable, and that, more than anything else, is why I recommend passing up this holiday offering.

The result is not entirely uninteresting, but it suffers from some ill-advised decisions. In fact, the film's "hook" may be its greatest detraction.

There’s nothing imaginary about how bad a misfire this movie is even for the Blumhouse base.

A bunch of IQ-challenged characters traipsing through a laughably bad scenario brought to life using silly dialogue, banal direction, and questionable special effects.

Siberia is effectively well-paced, offers instances of tension, and doesn’t cheat at the end.

Comes across as a cheesy, fundamentally unsatisfying experience.

If you like Alicia Silverstone, you'll probably enjoy Excess Baggage. This dubious road movie/romance/caper flick is clearly a vehicle for the spritely starlet, and her winsome charm is one of its strengths.

Unfortunately, where the movie falls apart is in the storyline. While Spawn fans may be delighted by this effort, the uninitiated may have a hard time getting beyond the fancy special effects and often-incoherent plot.

One doesn't expect intelligent scripting or deep characterization from Roland Emmerich, but the film's lack of energy, poor special effects, and monotonous pacing lead to an inescapable conclusion: 10,000 B.C. isn't only brain-dead, it's COMPLETELY dead. It's inert and without a heartbeat.

Zoolander would have been better left as a stand-alone cult classic.

The film's main problems are script-related. Most of the stories aren't merely perfunctory; they're superficial.

Reading a Sparks novel allows one's imagination to enter the equation. Watching one of his stories adapted on screen has exactly the opposite effect: it neuters the imagination. This is soap opera, pure and simple.

It is, at best, an oversized, overbudgeted Saturday morning cartoon.

A colossal disappointment. Not because it's superficial and shallow –- those characteristics pretty much go with the territory –- but because it's boring.

Although the film is clearly trying to follow in the footsteps of the Beatles' classic, it's several long strides behind, lacking the same sense of originality, spontaneity, high energy, and joi de vivre.

Unless you’re a fan of extreme sports photography, the 2015 Point Break lags behind its predecessor in most areas.

While the material forming the basis for The Crush can't make any claims of originality, there's certainly enough there to craft a decent film around. With a challenging story, a real script, and actors willing to take a few chances, The Crush could have been enjoyable. Essentially, all that would have been necessary for a success is a complete scrapping of the film that was actually produced. Even lovers of formula thrillers will find this picture hard to swallow.

One of the least effective comic book-to-movie stories to have come along in the past few years. Without a viable screenplay, there's nowhere for the character to go, and no way to avoid making her look silly.

Narratively incoherent and full of cheese and camp, this movie makes it clear that the mummy should have remained dead and buried.

Ed Helms, a Hangover veteran, is a perfect choice to take over the reins from Chase.

This is a painfully bad movie that thinks it’s trying to be Jackie Chan-meets-John Wick and flies so far wide of the target that it might have been shot by a blind man.

My Best Friend's Girl isn't just a misfire; it's a misfire compounded by a chain of miscalculations, and it's hard to figure out who this could appeal to (except, perhaps, Dane Cook's fan club).

Never boring. It is, however, frustrating.

He's still big and burly, but, at age 54, Schwarzenegger is starting to look a little too old to be involved in this kind of stuff. Action films are the province of younger stars.

All-in-all, what we have here is classic Seagal. And that means, for anyone who isn't an admitted fan, an uninspired outing.

One of those romantic comedies that never quite clicks. At times, its humor is effective, provoking chuckles and laughs. At other times, the comedy feels forced and awkward.

This is one of those movies where you stay rooted in your seat just to see how bad it can really get.

There are some problems but most are related to the uneven screenplay and not the performances of Cage or his co-star, Robin Tunney.

Ghost House is a generally well-made but ultimately unsurprising excursion into the supernatural.

Allegiant tries to cram too little story into too much time. This results in dead spots and uneven pacing.

Horror fans will be disgusted by the lack of gore. Romance fans will be disgusted by the presence of gore. One is tempted to applaud the filmmakers for trying something this daring, but the result isn't good enough to warrant any acclaim, however lukewarm it might be.

After My Life's in Turnaround, one could reasonably expect something more than this -- a Generation X picture that takes angst to absurd levels -- from Eric Schaeffer. Unfortunately, what we are saddled with is a whiney, talky, stagnant movie that's more pretentious than romantic, and more dull than funny. If Lucy Fell trips early on, and keeps stumbling for most of its ninety-two minute running length.

Detroit Rock City possesses three characteristics: an irreverent attitude, a high energy approach, and a loud soundtrack. While these qualities don't necessarily add up to a good movie, they keep the proceedings from becoming dull.

This is a rare time when young ones will get more out of a Sandler movie than their parents, who may have grown up with him when he was on "Saturday Night Live."

Welcome to Mooseport's satirical edge is dull and pitted, the screenplay is overlong and uninteresting, the comedy is soft and shapeless, and the actors perform like they're on a sit com.

The movie is pretty much what you might expect from a big-screen adaptation of a once-popular '60s TV series: good-natured, appealing, and sophomoric.

As a motion picture (in the traditional sense of the term), Five Nights at Freddy’s is disjointed and ultimately unsatisfying but as part of a larger cog in a cross-platform franchise, it does everything (and more) that is expected from it.

The only arena in which Gulliver's Travels plays an adequate game is in visual effects.

Awake is short enough (about 85 minutes) that it doesn't wear out its welcome. It's not a good movie but it's silly and lively enough to keep most viewers from dozing off, even if that might be a more profitable use of their time.

It isn't difficult to identify those who will and won't like this film. There's plenty of violence, lots of fights and explosions, and the miniatures special effects work is impressive. A sizable portion of the Seagal crowd will likely be annoyed by the environmental message and the Eskimo religious practices because they interfere with On Deadly Ground's pacing. In the end, however, there's probably enough bang to overcome these flaws for Seagal's fans, if not anyone else.

This movie isn't bad in the way some incompetently made movies are bad; this is bad because there's much skill evident in a pointless endeavor.

Is this a movie or a feature-length advertisement for Qwest? We're not just talking one product placement; this brand name is nearly omnipresent.

The Space between Us is what it looks like when a promising premise is betrayed by a dumbed-down, hackneyed screenplay.

For a movie being touted as a sophisticated farce suitable for family viewing, North turns out to be surprisingly immature.

On those rare occasions when RV stumbles across a comedic moment that is legitimately funny, it drains the humor out of it by milking it dry.

It stands alongside this year's other werewolf disaster, "Blood and Chocolate," in illustrating why the moon should set on the werewolf movie.

The movie feels like a vanity production, although it's difficult to determine whose ego is being stroked by this expensive adaptation.

The Amityville Horror fails as a movie, but, if you are searching for are a few good scares, you'll find them here.

As a video rental, this film will probably play a lot better than it does at the local multiplex.

One of Mindhunters' strengths is that it's difficult to guess who the culprit is because Harlin and his screenwriters don't play fair with the audience.

Unless you're among those who admit to an inexplicable admiration for Shore, Son-in-Law will rate as one of the most unpleasant, grating experiences of the summer.

By making the key participants in The Valley an Indian-American family with many traditional values and customs, Kariat emphasizes the universality of the problem.

This is a bad film - at times it’s nigh unwatchable - but that doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things.

Akin to watching a bad sit-com that never ends.

The problem is, while the thriller aspects of the movie are serviceable, they aren't good enough to form the basis of anything more serious than a sit-com, and by spending as much time on them as Code Name: The Cleaner does, it makes the film at times seem drawn-out and tedious.

Where About Cherry fails is in its depiction of interpersonal relationships. Nearly all of them are flat and uninspired.

The sad truth about After Earth is that not only is it difficult to find things it does well, but there are numerous examples of outright incompetence dotting the landscape.

Boring and uninspired, this movie gives ghost stories a bad name.

Unremarkable. A more honest description would be to label it as mirthless, pointless, and banal.

The tone, which veers uncertainly between dark comedy and suspense, is uneven, and the characters are not vivid enough to stabilize the load of a shifting, runaway plot.

The storyline is at times muddled and incoherent. This won't bother readers much since they have the "inside track" on what's happening. Then again, the narrative is so predictable that maybe it doesn't matter.

Levy and Jackson save the day, and the film. The Man isn't great entertainment, but it contains enough laughter-provoking material to make it worth a look.

Straight viewing could result in brain damage.

Director William Friedkin has created a stylistic picture, but this is an example of style without substance.

The storyline is generic apocalyptic science fiction and feels a lot like an uninspired fusion of "Independence Day" and the TV mini-series “V”.

Too often, the film is more like a soundtrack with visuals than a well constructed, fully developed motion picture.

For all of its existential posturing, Being Human ends up being a rather shallow motion picture.

As a romance, a drama, or even a sports movie, The Longest Ride never reaches a satisfying destination.

We believe the dislike at the onset but not the romance at the payoff. And that's a major flaw.

If I see another send-up of Sharon Stone's character in Basic Instinct, I think I'll walk out of the theater. It wasn't funny the first time, and, by now, it's gotten downright annoying. Who cares if she uncrossed her legs without any panties on? Let's move onto something new. Belaboring that issue is like watching this movie: pointless.

The Punisher isn't Frank Castle; it's Jonathan Hensleigh. And the punishee is anyone sitting in the audience.

Isn't just bad, it's very bad.

Aside from Snipes' well-tuned performance and a few clever scenes detailing superstar marketing, this picture is a veritable wasteland. Even watching the horror show that the real Giants have become during the 1996 season is more fun than this. The advertising slogan may be "fear strikes soon", but, when it comes to The Fan, fear, like the movie, strikes out.

This is a charmless, lifeless affair that had me leaving the theater in a mood more appropriate to a funeral than a wedding.

The movie is populated by dislikeable individuals doing unpleasant things but isn't redeemed by the vein of viciously black comedy that made "The War of the Roses" and "Bad Santa" such devilish pleasures.

Has some promise as a throw-away, lighthearted romance. Unfortunately, once those elements are gone, what's left only has a running time of about 13 minutes.

This is as excruciating a movie as is likely to be experienced by anyone, anywhere. It isn't merely that the story is insulting, the characters are bland, the action is dull, and the CGI is everywhere - it's that all this goes on for nearly three hours. That's three hours of your life you'll never get back.

There's a sense that a much better movie is trying to get out but it never attains escape velocity.

After this disgrace, it's time to shut the hills' eyes for good.

However, once you realize there's no "pleasure" to be had from something this wantonly dumb and idiotically constructed, all that's left is "guilt" - guilt that you actually spent money to see this.

Tarnishes the image of its predecessor but the original Independence Day wasn’t all that good to begin with.

Chock full of high-tech action, with a lot of chasing and shooting and explosions.

There's some potential in this storyline, but the movie doesn't do much with it besides giving Martin Short an opportunity to put on the fat suit.

Screenwriter Aaron Sorkin and director Danny Boyle aren’t interested in offering another re-enactment of the truth-is-stranger-than-fiction story. They have something more ambitious in mind. Their goal is to illustrate the tyranny of genius and how a “great mind” doesn’t always mean a “great person.”

Warcraft provides the shell of a great fantasy adventure saga but never effectively goes beyond that. This is much more like the bad fantasy of the 1980s and 1990s than the better brand we have recently become accustomed to.

An individual’s appreciation of Cats may rest on a previous love of the stage play; others are more likely to throw up a hairball than purr in contentment.

The film's heart is undoubtedly in the right place, but so what? Fine ideals don't mean much when they're couched in an inert, pointless storyline.

A turd of T-Rex proportions, Land of the Lost makes one remember last summer's "Speed Racer" fondly.

Although Sinister 2 continues the story begun in Scott Derrickson's creepily effective "Sinister," it feels more like an unnecessary retread than an organic extension of the original.

Few authors have been as badly victimized by Hollywood as King; this is just another title to add to the list.

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."

The script isn't just "dumbed down," it's lobotomized.

Disgusting, offensive, and utterly without merit. And, on top of that, it's boring and pretentious.

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.

Aspen Extreme is a predictable, pointless melodrama -- a kind of Top Gun in the snow. Ski enthusiasts might be tempted to see the film based on subject matter alone, but, unless they're undiscriminating about the quality of their movies, I would caution against it. Even as vicarious entertainment, Aspen Extreme is feeble.

The moment Showtime begins to take itself even remotely seriously, it loses whatever edge it might have had -- and that occurs less than 15 minutes into the proceedings. The best time for Showtime is no time.

Part documentary, part parody, and part something indefinable, the film manages to succeed on its own terms and entertain on just about anyone's.

Unfinished Business is bad - not epically bad but bad enough. Little contained in this misfire of a film works and the few successful things are dragged out to the point where they die a lingering death.

Perhaps the biggest (and most noticeable) fall-off from the first film is the lack of chemistry between Reynolds and Jackson. The two never connect. Rarely have I seen the volcanic Jackson look so disinterested; this is the closest he’s ever come to phoning it in.

Chernobyl Diaries is afflicted with a fatal flaw that damages many horror films: after a better-than-average setup and a promising first half, everything falls apart.

One problem with Repo Men is that there's not enough material to sustain a 111-minute motion picture.

The film is too energetic, too jaw-droppingly campy, and too silly not to be enjoyed and celebrated on some level. "Cheesy" doesn't even begin to describe it, yet that's at the heart of its perverse charm. Now, that's entertainment!

Regardless of how low your expectations are regarding Fired Up!, it will still surprise you, and not in a good way.

The film provides ample opportunity to attack the MPAA's hypocrisy. Max Payne is a bloodbath, yet it manages a PG-13 rating by keeping the explicitness of the killings just a whisker shy of what would be necessary for an R.

When it comes to waterborne movies, Wolfgang Petersen’s "The Perfect Storm" (not a horror film) is more terrifying than Mary.

Delpy's injection of class into an otherwise classless production raises the specter of what this film could have been with a better script and a better cast surrounding her.

As a streaming offering available as part of a subscription package, it might be considered an adequate way to pass 90 minutes but as a reason to venture out to a theater, it’s hard to imagine anyone willing to go to those lengths for something this forgettable.

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.

It packs in a few scary moments and offers a nicely ambiguous conclusion. In Silent Hill, atmosphere trumps storyline.

The Lazarus Effect begins with an intriguing premise then proceeds to squander all the early goodwill through a slow, inexorable descent into cheap horror gimmicks.

If there's the kernel of a good story buried somewhere deep in Cursed, it never pops. As werewolf movies go, this one is on par with "An American Werewolf in Paris," but at least that dud had plenty of gore and Julie Delpy's bare breasts to recommend it.

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles doesn't so much provide brainless enjoyment as it pummels the viewer into submission. "Shell-shocked" is a reasonable description of the experience.

A movie so inane that it fails to rise to the level of "good trash."

Most of the humor in Your Highness is obvious, tepid, and often crude. There are some amusing one-liners but the majority of the comedy makes one realize how brilliant "Monty Python and the Holy Grail" is.

This Means War is not funny enough to succeed as a comedy. It's not emotionally deft enough to succeed as a romance. And it's not exciting enough to succeed as an action film. It's a high-energy, fast-paced explosion of moments that can be edited together to make a compelling trailer.

This movie isn't afraid of venturing into the realm of bad taste -- in fact, it revels in it.

The 2018 Death Wish has been developed with a specific audience in mind – those who enjoy these kinds of thoughtlessly violent outings. The direction is workmanlike, although without the flourishes that have added some visual razzle-dazzle to similar orgies of brutality like "John Wick" and its sequel.

The movie is a pointless retread with nothing to recommend it beyond McShane’s commanding presence.

A failure on pretty much every level, Hounddog would never have been known beyond Park City had it not been for the notoriety surrounding the rape scene.

It's remarkably appropriate that Envy is about turds, because that's what the movie is.

Monster-in-Law is appalling misfire of a comedy - a motion picture that takes a situation ripe for the blackest vein of satire and reduces it to a puerile and edgeless pile of goo

Not a masterpiece, but it's an example of how imagination, craftsmanship, and technological bravura can fashion superior entertainment out of something that is far from flawless.

Affable, but, as something with more ambition, it disappoints. Herek has once again found the feel-good path to mediocrity.

A delightfully loopy comedy about the hijinks that occur when families collide.

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."

To succeed, Deception requires viewers to be both inattentive and stupid. There's not a twist in this flimsy and moth-eaten plot that isn't both contrived and transparent and not a character who hasn't been hopelessly manipulated by the needs of the narrative.

The movie The Road is nowhere close to its literary sire, but it's probably the best one could hope for from a movie version.

There is a perverse enjoyment to be had from something this cheesy, although not enough of one that I can recommend sitting through it. Still, as bad as Creature is, it can be fun, although the level of enjoyment is probably in direct proportion to the viewer's level of intoxication.

What's missing from Blended? Two key ingredients: it doesn't touch the heart and it doesn't tickle the funny bone (at least not often enough).

Despite a few effective “gotcha!” moments and Pegg’s performance, the movie is too artificial and undercooked to work. Logic and consistency are often overlooked qualities in today’s cinema but when they’re ignored to this degree, their absence is noticed.

Lawrence is often more irritating than funny, and it doesn't help that the direction is pedestrian and the screenplay dismal.

There's hardly an area in which Hot Pursuit is not found lacking. The comedy is unfunny with joke after joke falling painfully flat.

Okay, there are worse movies out there, but I'm hard-pressed to figure out why I'd waste my time and money watching something that's a half-baked retread of better movies I can stream from Netflix.

Suspension of disbelief is an oh-so-tricky hurdle for a movie like this to overcome and The Book of Henry fails to achieve it.

Feels perfunctory and obligatory and, despite the return of several familiar characters, is more like an afterthought than an organic third piece of a trilogy puzzle.

There's just one problem: it's not scary and it's not funny...Idle Hands transcends that mundane level of badness into the realm of gross ineptitude.

The picture is neither flawless nor foolproof, but it's smart and tight enough to keep audiences off-balance and entertained for the running length.

On a purely narrative level, Winter's Tale missteps early and often. Its earnestness is its downfall, resulting in opportunities for unintentional humor.

Several strokes short of a respectable finish.

This feel-good motion picture is intelligently written and expertly directed.

Although the problem lies primarily in the difficulties associated with condensing an epic tale into a short-ish movie, the lack of elegance with which that is accomplished makes Artemis Fowl a failure for anyone hoping for the next great fantasy film.

Sanders, however, has taken a deep dive into the world of pretentious horror, where every killing has to be as stylized as it is gory. His characters have no humanity, his romance has no sizzle, and the whole thing turns into a slog where style overwhelms substance to such a degree that there’s too little left of the latter to matter.

By-the-numbers, generic plots no longer work and that, unfortunately, is what Seventh Son delivers. Impressive set design and visuals, excessive CGI, and a loud score from Marco Beltrami can't fully compensate for bland character development and a predictable narrative that rushes along on a linear trajectory.

There's nothing in Alex Cross that argues another installment is warranted, but much will depend on whether Tyler Perry's audience crosses over and continues to follow him in this new, very different role.

This is essentially a Steven Seagal movie without the Ponytailed One, and may appeal to those who enjoyed Seagal's rather bland, cookie-cutter action films.

There are good things to be said about The Spirit, but not enough of them to outweigh the bad.

If you're tired of routine, "feel good", Hollywood fare and are looking for something a little Tarantino-ish and a lot unusual, Feeling Minnesota will leave you feeling pleasantly surprised.

The result, while not horrifically bad, is as mediocre a motion picture as you're likely to find in a multiplex this season. It's tough to hate the movie because it doesn't generate enough emotion for that kind of passion.

You may find sperm jokes hilarious, but it's doubtful you'll find them hilarious in The Babymakers, which has serious composition problems.

It’s an adequate horror movie with the requisite atmospherics and jump-scares, and it provides Conjuring fans with their fix. However, as the latest chapter of what is now a trilogy, it’s a disappointment.

"The Hangover" was high octane fun. "The Hangover Part II," despite its repetitive nature, was enjoyable. The Hangover Part III is some kind of hideous experiment in mass consumer torture.

Offensive because it offers little more than unleavened stupidity in the place of the family-friendly action and comedy it promises.

In a summer of high-octane action and testosterone-boosted thrills, this movie is out of its league.

If ever there was a movie that could cause even the most restless sleeper to fall into a deep slumber, this is it.

It's badly directed, poorly edited, and features some of the most unconvincing acting this side of a soup commercial.

Like many genuinely awful movies, Queen of the Damned has the ingredients of a cult film.

Expend4bles feels like a movie that never should have been made for a franchise that, having lain dormant for nine years, didn’t deserve a resurrection.

White Noise has nothing. You'll have a better time staying home, tuning your TV to a station that doesn't carry a local signal, and staring.

The Electric State has an epic look but that’s increasingly common in any movie with sci-fi elements. But, aside from the special effects, it feels unfinished, with the actors groping to inhabit barely-there characters. What does it say when Mr. Peanut has more personality than either of the main characters?

Instead of vying for a so-bad-it’s-entertaining categorization, it falls squarely into the hell of cinematic mediocrity.

Turns out to be hopelessly mediocre -- a poorly scripted, preachy fable that forgets about unfolding a coherent, believable story in its zeal to spread propaganda.

No one in their right mind goes to an Adam Sandler movie for any reason other than to laugh, and Grown Ups delivers.

Maybe approaching The Unborn as horror is the wrong approach. Perhaps this should be seen as a comedy. It is quite possibly the most egregiously laughable high-profile supernatural tale since Roman Polanski and Johnny Depp impaled themselves on "The Ninth Gate."

The ending is weak, and may be the result of the filmmakers writing themselves into a corner and not wanting to conclude things in a burst of nihilistic excess. Yet, even though it's a cheat, it retains a degree of resonance.

Two if by Sea has a drab, dreary tone that's due as much to the unenthusiastic performances as to the bland direction. If anyone was having fun making this film, it doesn't come across. Star Wars' gold droid C3P0 had more humanity than all of Two if by Sea's characters combined. Because I never cared about Frank or Roz, the "feel good" ending left me cold. And, to think, I wasted over an hour and a half in a theater with this movie when I could have been outside shoveling snow.

Sadly, as apt as comparisons to "Underworld" might seem, I, Frankenstein can't even clear that very low bar.

You know you're in trouble when 50% of the running length is devoted to plot exposition, and the movie still doesn't make any sense.

The "special effects" employed to have the animals' mouths form words might have been state-of-the-art 20 years ago, but they're outdated today, and the gorilla looks like a guy in the monkey suit that was abandoned after the 1976 version of "King Kong." I guess CGI was too sophisticated for the technical crew.

She Hate Me is a mixed bag, but at least it's interesting and almost never boring.

Basically, this film is stale -- as unappetizing as week-old bread. With much better fare of this sort available on video (Airplane, The Naked Gun, etc.), renting a tape will be more satisfying, not to mention cost-effective. Loaded Weapon 1 is good for a few laughs, but there's no compelling reason to spend $5+ to see such a feeble feature-length comedy.

The similarities between Daddy’s Home 2 and last week’s release, "A Bad Moms Christmas," are striking. Not only are the two films sequels to successful first installments but they follow the similar template of bringing back the most popular elements of the first movie, stirring veteran actors into the mix, and finishing everything off with a big kumbaya moment.

In general, thrillers are among the easiest movies to do poorly and the hardest to do well. Body of Evidence takes the easy road, and ends up as a shambles. This is the kind of poor effort that's difficult to forgive.

So bad that it will annoy and/or bore those who have minimal standards and a high tolerance for sewage.

The star and the more overwrought aspects of the plot are mainstream but the philosophical implications will not appeal to those who prefer easily digestible cinematic portions. It's also true that the more deeply one considers the movie's themes and structure, the less sense it makes.

It's a wretched attempt at entertainment, ephemerally redeemed only by the appearance of several attractive girls.

Peppermint isn’t preaching a message; it’s intended as escapist fun. The problem is, there’s nothing “fun” about sitting through this 100-minute exercise in robotic butchery.

The movie has little to recommend it and more than a few things to encourage those who pursue quality cinema to stay away.

Boring and repetitive.

Part music video, part bizarro psychological thriller, and part David Lynch-inspired descent into existential purgatory (I kept looking for Michael J. Anderson), the film’s weirdness is sometimes extreme enough to exert an almost hypnotic attraction. But, as good as he may be on stage and in a music studio, The Weeknd (a.k.a. Abel Tesfaye) is not a good actor.

--- Ho, ho, ho - the joke's on anyone who pays to see this.

The film is critic-proof and it will find an audience, but it's hard to imagine even the film's target demographic (teenage boys) being overly enthusiastic about the product. It's disposable entertainment of the worst kind.

Overall this is a compelling and sometimes disturbing motion picture.

The level of quality is such that this does not deserve a theatrical distribution and will only find appeal among pre-teen kids or those who have been fans of the games since their inception more than a decade ago.

The movie isn't entirely successful as a romance or as an adventure, which makes the experience of watching it feel shallow and hollow, sort of like the stars and the plot.

At least the werewolves in Red Riding Hood have teeth and, when in human form, they don't parade around shirtless.

In order to show the "happiness" noted in the title, director Peter Chelsom ventures into some dark territory to provide a contrast. This results in a surprisingly unpleasant scene of torture and deprivation that may shock some viewers expecting to see a lightweight Simon Pegg dramedy about the meaning of joy.

It's watchable, but barely.

If you take The Postman at face value - that it's a straightforward, post- apocalyptic adventure tale, then it could seem like one of the worst movies of the year, if not of all time.

Unappealing for children and adults alike, The King and I will likely bring families together in their mutual boredom.

It's not scary, it's not chilling, and it's not interesting.

This film, which places yet another actor in the batsuit, has all the necessary hallmarks of a sorry sequel -- pointless, plodding plotting; asinine action; clueless, comatose characterization; and dumb dialogue.

Hitman: Agent 47 might offer a passable diversion for action junkies but, for everyone else, it's best avoided.

Halloween 5 is the movie that pushed the Halloween franchise into the generic slasher film category.

Two agonizing hours of lifeless, mind-numbing hogwash.

We have entered generic action movie territory and the idiosyncrasies that made the series special at the outset have been leeched out, papered over, or turned into obligatory inserts.

One of the most positive comments that can be made about Hick is that it advances Chloe Grace Moretz's claim to be one of the best young actresses emerging into today's spotlight.

About as frightening as Walt Disney's Haunted Mansion.

Even Cowgirls is as close to an unwatchable film as there is available at this time in the theaters.

Scream is a rarity: a horror movie spoof that succeeds almost as well at provoking scares as laughs.

Howard the Duck is a bad movie. It doesn’t work as a comic book adaptation, a comedy, an action/adventure film, a fantasy/science fiction pastiche, or a combination of any of the above. The humor is juvenile. The action is cheesy and unexciting. The costume is embarrassing. The script feels like it was cobbled together by people with no knowledge of comic books but who were pretending expertise.

As action-thrillers go, this one provides what the previews tease. Maybe that’s enough for an evening’s mindless, throw-away entertainment, but I can’t help but be disappointed that the filmmakers couldn’t have brought something more inventive to a genre that too often relies on worn-out tropes.

Murphy in particular deserves better, but at least she got a boyfriend and a paycheck out of the deal. No such benefits await those who sacrifice both cash and time to see this movie.

For anyone who saw this movie while yet unaware of its horrifying potential for stealing money and time, you have my condolences. For those who stubbornly proceed while knowing the awful truth, you deserve what you get. Don't expect any sympathy from me if you're arrested while trying to burn the film or kill the projectionist.

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

Even with ILM providing nearly-flawless special effects, Dragonheart lacks a much-needed spark. It's obvious and plodding, and only occasionally impressive.

The concept may not be bad, but there are times when the execution borders on embarrassing.

It's tired and dated with too few laughs to justify the stultifying attempts at drama and the impossible-to-swallow plot contortions.

Dirty Deeds boasts a passably entertaining idea that is butchered in the telling.

This is a mechanical gore-fest that offers preposterous stunts in place of escalating tension and waxwork mannequins in place of marginally interesting characters.

Although the satire is biting and the tone is irreverent, Drop Dead Gorgeous lacks the killer script and top notch performances necessary to make this a wholly successful production.

This movie is the worst kind of offender: it thinks its funny and clever, but it is neither. The filmmakers have mistaken banality for wit and silliness for humor, and that doesn't begin to address how visually clunky this motion picture is.

The film has a nihilistic tone and its gallows humor may turn off more viewers than it seduces. Not since "Killer Joe" has a film exerted this mix of attraction and repulsion.

Season of the Witch teeters on the edge of slipping into the "so bad it's good" camp, but ultimately ends up being merely bad.

The only thing that differentiates it from far too many other uninspired rom-coms is that some of the material is funny and there is an occasional edge to the repartee. Beyond that, however, it's a cookie-cutter movie, and the cookies are pretty stale.

When it comes to comedy, Deck the Halls is remarkably tedious.

The "characters" vary from slightly annoying to unbearable - this is a film in which a viewer can be forgiven for rooting for the old video game icons to annihilate humanity. God help us if the best savior we can muster is Sandler.

Beverly Hills Ninja is essentially a one-joke film.

This a neutered Garfield, one part tomcat and three parts pussy, recognizable only by his orange coat and love of lasagna. This feline's got a serious case of mange.

Despite being one of the shortest theatrical releases of the year, clocking in at about 75 minutes (not counting end credits), The Happytime Murders feels overlong. That’s probably because the plot is nonsensical and pointless.

The problem here isn't as much the talent in front of the camera as it is the weak and hackneyed script. Vampire in Brooklyn is in need of an infusion (or should that be transfusion?) of originality and creativity -- two qualities that are blatantly absent.

What we get is a mediocre remake of a mediocre original – not exactly must-see cinema.

It's astounding how a movie this long could accomplish so little.

Did You Hear about the Morgans? Yes and, to be perfectly frank, I wish I had been spared the experience.

In a way, it's probably unfair to blame director Tamra Davis exclusively for this debacle. After all, she's toiling in the shadow of a would-be multi-media superstar, making her essentially a hired gun.

If ever a romantic comedy is going to fail at the box office, this is it. The movie isn't a guy's thing, a girl's thing, or anybody else's thing.

A catastrophe. This motion picture is an embarrassment to all involved.

In terms of storytelling, excitement, and overall entertainment value, Blacklight is a black hole.

I wonder if Gamer might make a good game; it certainly doesn't make a good movie.

Wild Hogs is more tired, worn out, and sagging than its protagonists - an arthritic comedy whose humor is below mediocre and whose drama is cringe-worthy.

For better or worse (emphasis on the latter), it was unlike anything else on the multiplex landscape. In 2017, it’s becoming difficult for Bay to distinguish his brand of brain-dead spectacle from the brain-dead spectacle of many other sequels, prequels, and remakes.

This is Diane English's directing debut, and it shows. Also in evidence is her familiarity with television. The movie is shot like a TV show, with frequent intercut close-ups.

The movie ends with a bizarre and unsatisfying denouement. The epilogue, which is designed either to set up a sequel or lampoon "Halloween 2," plays like a sour last note. I suppose someone thought it was clever, but it doesn't work.

A sloppy, poorly focused comedy.

Unfortunately for the poor viewer trapped into sitting through this 95 minute mess, the humor is both conventional and unfunny, the script never takes any chances, and the ending is a cop-out.

It's crass, cruel, and borderline offensive, but the laughs that could redeem all of that are missing. Material as bad as the tripe that comprises Norbit can be endured only if there's a payoff. In this case, the point seems to be that some actors will do anything for a buck.

The result is sometimes enchanting, but, more often than not, it's frustrating, because the disparate elements of the plot never quite gel.

A mediocre diversion -– a movie better watched at home where the remote control can be used (if necessary) to fast forward to the film's best part: the obligatory end credit outtakes.

At its best, Terminal is a tasty, tangy parfait – a kaleidoscope of neon-tinged visuals and a twisty storyline with a tortured time line.

Watching Little Fockers is a depressing experience. Rarely does a comedy bring such an overpowering sense of sadness.

Perhaps surprisingly, it's no better or worse that the other superhero movies of 2015.

Twisted is a D-grade thriller with an A-list cast. It's a disappointment from start to finish...But, in the final quarter-hour, it committed the unpardonable sin of insulting my intelligence.

Despite being rooted firmly in "chick flick" territory (with a high "cuteness" index), it has the capacity to please to viewers of both genders who appreciate the genre.

The lackluster acting and horrendous dialogue don't help.

Echelon Conspiracy is a more evocative title than a movie this stupid deserves.

Even Charles Barkley's big-screen acting debut can't camouflage a wandering script built on formulas and cliches. As for John Travolta and Kirstie Alley, suffice it to say that their pets steal every scene, and, when the dogs aren't present, the furniture takes the honor. Look Who's Talking Now has about as much appeal as the pile that Rocks leaves on the back seat of James' cab.

Regardless of the reason, Borderlands arrives as a legitimate contender not only for worst film of 2024 but one of the worst videogame movies ever released.

Sadly, Madame Web fails to rise above its pedigree as a lesser superhero movie. It does nothing to convince viewers that there’s value to be found in a story not featuring a marquee comic book character.

This film is unable to involve, entertain, or titillate. Basically, it stinks.

The kind of film that will work for an audience that's just interested in having an emotional experience (with a happy ending) without caring how obviously or clumsily they are manipulated. I find this sort of sledgehammer film making to be offensive, but there are those who enjoy it.

Tideland is, by turns, a complete bore and a creepy experience. And I don't mean "creepy" in a positive sense.

Every once in a while, a movie comes along that is so boring and pointless, that those faithful movie-goers who never walk out on a film have to find some alternative to watching the mind- numbing stupidity unfolding on the screen.

A horror film that starts out creepy but ends up disjointed and borderline- incoherent. It's a shame that the final product isn't a little better packaged because, unlike many lame entries into the genre, this one actually contains a few interesting, philosophically titillating ideas.

Just because it's not boring, that doesn't mean it's worth plunking down the price of admission.

Taken 3 is exactly what one might anticipate from an unnecessary sequel in a mediocre franchise.

Looking back at Psycho Killer as a whole, the missteps in the final 20–30 minutes easily overwhelm some of the earlier, better material. It's tough to recommend this even as a streaming time-waster.

Just plain bad. Boring. Unwatchable.

With its grim tone and sickening content, this gruesome gore-fest might have limited appeal for "Death Wish" lovers who wished Charles Bronson hadn’t been such a wimp.

The film has energy but isn't well paced. Nothing about it quite gels.

This movie is bad from top to bottom, front to back, and start to finish.

Director Rick Friedberg (who made the "bad golf" videos with Leslie Nielsen) has crafted a dreadfully unfunny comedy that takes Naked Gun-like sketches and rehashes them without a whit of style or energy.

It is neither deep nor intelligent, but it's not intended to be either. The saving grace of the otherwise generic product is that Bell's vivacity and Duhamel's rakish charm allow the viewer to root for them.

In R.I.P.D., we have a legitimate train wreck of a motion picture: a film that doesn't work on any level. It's not funny. It's not exciting. It's not engaging. It's a waste of time and money.

Once it gets beyond a hard-to-swallow setup and into the meat of its story, Boxing Helena is surprisingly involving...The movie discloses its terms early, and expects the audience to buy into them, making no apologies for what it is or intends to be.

Too much of Jason X plays it straight, and that means boredom. Murder and mayhem of this sort quickly becomes monotonous.

This is a tedious and insulting motion picture. The only ones likely to be surprised by the payoff are those who understandably dozed off fifteen minutes into the proceedings.

Eye for an Eye is one of three pictures currently in theaters about parents coping with the deaths of children. Both of the others, The Crossing Guard and Dead Man Walking, are vastly superior, and the latter, a thoughtful examination of some of the same issues that drive this film, makes Eye for an Eye look like puerile rubbish. Despite paying lip service to high ideals, Schlesinger's movie has no moral compass, and is only interested in delivering cheap thrills. And, while there's a place for that in movies, appropriating this particular storyline for such a base intention feels uncomfortably like a defilement.

Surprise of surprises, Revolver turns out to be worse than "Swept Away" - and not just by a little bit.

This film is like a shiny, red apple that's rotten to the core -- despite slick direction and a glossy sheen, it reeks of decay. Showgirls isn't a good drama, a good thriller, or even good pornography.

Perhaps the only way to approach Abduction that will not result in a 105-minute boredom-induced coma is to think of it as a comedy, preferably with a drinking game attached. There are laughs to be had, although none of them are intentional.