Johanna Steinmetz

It helps if you think of "Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure" as sort of a "Sesame Street" for teens. Beneath the self-aggrandizing plot, the rock music, the dudespeak and the humor lurks a smattering of knowledge. The premise is spectacularly silly, but harmless. Bill and Ted are a couple of woolly-brained teens who spend so much time dreaming about the rock band they're going to start that they are about to disqualify themselves from a public education. [20 Feb 1989, p.7]

Veteran director Arthur Hiller keeps the vehicle galloping along with a sure hand, careful not to let any of it sink to a fatal level of believability and always on the prowl for whatever wit can be harvested from any gizmo at hand. [17 Aug 1990, p.B]

The setup is so startlingly unlike the rest of True Colors, so moody and visually ambiguous, that it hits you both with the force of the moment and with regret for what this movie might have been. [05 Apr 1991, p.D]

The surreal is appropriate to a story based on fantasy, but the unevenness in tone here makes watching ''The Boy Who Could Fly'' a little like hitting airpockets in a puddlejumper.

It's corny, cussed and carnal.

With its old-timey special effects, multiple plots and silly humor, it scampers through its 102 minutes untethered to the demands of strict logic, continuity or character development. This film is just out to have a good time. Often, it succeeds. [27 Apr 1990, p.D]

Shapiro has constructed a by-the-numbers script that telegraphs every plot twist with the exertion of its setups. We know that a hive of yellow jackets in the orchard, a carousel in the attic and Darian's fondness for horses will somehow make it into the final minutes of the film. It is hard to work up the curiosity to stick it out and find out how. [6 Apr 1993, p.7]

In Madhouse, writer-director Tom Ropelewski doesn't so much serve up an idea as force-feed it down our gullets. It takes a game bird to sit through the entire movie. [16 Feb 1990, p.K]

As directed by Robert Mulligan, the stately pace here feels sluggish and the music is no elegiac Pachelbel's "Canon" but a medley of dreadful cocktail lounge piano and swooning strings. [21 Oct 1988, p.G]

While this production certainly ranks above Van Damme's prior efforts, it's still full of the sort of macho overkill typical of today's action genre. [09 Aug 1991, p.B]

While the actresses seem authentic in these interviews, they are forced and unconvincing in Jaglom's script, which centers on characters who might kindly be described as narcissistic Harpies. [21 Jun 1991, p.G]

A lot of nostalgia movies are so in love with their period details that they squander plot and character time on lingering shots of antique cars and storefronts. They wear their vintage with the self-conscious smirk of a 40-year-old stepping out in her prom dress. It's a hoot, of course, but it doesn't guarantee a good time. [25 Sep 1987, p.L]

Add the American work ethic to an Italian bedroom farce, give it to a director reknowned for small, natural, gently humorous films, and you come up with Loverboy, a comedy that is more often distasteful than funny. [2 May 1989, p.7C]

But while Downey is up to the material, and then some, the material is not up to him. The film plods along with the sort of creaky literalism that blunts its attempts at other-worldliness. It says something that Elisabeth Shue, in a bit part as Downey's frustrated girlfriend, has more presence than anyone else in the movie. Her sphere of real time and space is credible; the fantasy world the film attempts to create is not. [13 Aug 1993, p.C]

Pyun obviously enjoys filming Armageddon, and Cyborg is visually interesting even at its most preposterous. Everything is in ruins, with enough scenes in burnt-out factories to give new meaning to the term "loft living." Still, the plot is hopelessly confused, there are cuts that don't match and scenes that move suddenly from full sun to late afternoon. [07 Apr 1989, p.B]

Pirates is tedious round after tedious round of mutiny and rescue. Screen people are hanged and stabbed and garroted with great care, but there's nothing to put the audience out of its misery. [22 July 1986, p.5C]

Mayall`s hyper portrayal of Fred, while psychologically sound, is dramatically torture.

Hocus Pocus is harmless, but it's about as much fun as celebrating Mardi Gras under the influence of candy corn. Director Kenny Ortega ("Newsies") keeps the material moving, but he seems to have no idea how to shape its odd mixture of lugubriousness, sentimentality and goofiness.

Van Damme himself, a graduate of the blank-stare school of acting, is so without emotional inflection on the screen that his most affecting moment in this film, if one is to judge from a preview audience's reaction, is when he drops a bathrobe for a couple of seconds of magnificent gluteal exposure.

Depending on the speed of your gag reflex, "+batteries not included" is either a 21st Century "Lassie" or the worst piece of smarm to come along since "I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus."