Joe Neumaier

The Transporter Refueled should be put up on blocks.

Hitman: Agent 47 is a by-the-numbers schlock action sequel that writes its own epitaph when a character mutters the dusty insult, “You’re dead, too. You just don’t know it yet.”

Shocking. Horrific. Stunning. The plot twists in Final Girl? No, the fact that the movie itself was even made — and that Abigail Breslin is in it.

It’s slow, lethargic, utterly lacking in charm and undeserving of the Cold War setting that is its best trait.

One of 2015’s dullest.

Someone forgot to put anything fantastic into Fantastic Four.

Every joke is lame, every special effect unspecial.

Director Kyle Patrick Alvarez’s film underserves its cast of up-and-comers (Thomas Mann, Ezra Miller, Tye Sheridan), allows the usually solid actor Michael Angarano to go astray with a scenery-chewing role and buries Crudup in fretting and sanctity. Worse, the experiment’s inherent drama is exacted with a tin ear and a cheesy style.

Irrational Man plays, like so much of Woody Allen’s work over the past 20 years, like a bad Woody Allen parody.

Laughable/Bad

The brooding and emotional prickliness gets overwhelming. Kidman tries her best to flesh out her character, but writer-director Kim Farrant gives this still-undervalued actress little to do.

“Holiday” is more palatable than similar, American-bred films like “The Family Stone” or This is Where I Leave You. Still, once Connolly’s sad-eyed, hippie-ish cancer sufferer is gone, there’s little reason to keep going.

Director Benni Diez tries for schlock shocks in this giant-bug flick. Sadly, what’s left out here is the fun.

One achievement of James Cameron’s “Terminator” is that it overcame its low-rent, B-movie trappings. The great sin of “Genisys” is that it costs millions and yet isn’t worth a dime.

Corey Stoll is the only reason to sit through this muddled Jersey-set drama.

Dullness, as well as hoary preachiness, neuters the family-and-their-war-dog drama Max.

This mashup of a teenage assassin lark and high school misfit comedy misses the chance to add a supercool heroine to pop culture.

San Andreas is a disaster — literally. That’s not to take a piece out of Dwayne (The Rock) Johnson. His charm and family-man-style fearlessness as the movie’s star is the only saving grace in this thuddingly repetitive, badly written crash-a-thon.

Its creepy atmosphere aside, Maggie is a slog of the living dead.

Hot Pursuit gets cold quickly. That’s certainly not the fault of stars Reese Witherspoon and Sofia Vergara, who work to keep this blessedly brief action-comedy shaking and cruising to an unthrilling end. The blame lies with a dopey script, director Anne Fletcher and a lazy Hollywood assumption that female buddy flicks should be as half-assed as their male counterparts.

Travolta’s face looks immobile, while Plummer and Jennifer Ehle, as Cutter’s estranged, strung-out wife, look out of place. Sheridan (“The Tree of Life”), though, does seems comfortable in a movie where the colors blur sloppily.

The former “Friends” star clearly wanted something special, but sadly the result is ... this.

James' everyman appeal is stretched to the limits here, like that polyester shirt he wears.

This film, though, lacks any spine. Director Jean-Baptiste Leonetti isn’t sure if he’s making a Hemingway-lite faceoff or a hemmed-in horror flick.

This Australian movie reminds you what can happen when directors pretend to be Quentin Tarantino, complete with snark masquerading as style, slippery timelines, blood and guts and guns everywhere.

If this is your particular poison, it won’t kill you. But anyone averse to Sparks’ sappy touch may get sick from all the bull.

Get Hard isn’t edgy enough to be offensive or witty enough to be challenging. It’s just dumb.

The movie is played fast but lacks wit. The script, written by Kristin Gore — daughter of Al, and author of the book on which it’s based — mistakes frantic for funny.