Kevin Maynard

Like its accordion-filled score, it's nothing but a golden moldie.

Works best as romantic melodrama and is least convincing as a psychological suspenser.

A mockumentary about small-town beauty pageants that's so confidently unfunny it's DOA.

Duller-than-a-Vitalife-convention compilation of talking heads.

This is one of those movies in which there are only two types of people: officious yuppie pricks, and the beautiful folks who stop and smell the daisies. What keeps it (barely) from being completely intolerable is Keanu Reeves' hilariously awful lead performance.

Plays out like a raunchy episode of "Felicity."

The backdrop of exotic pagodas and wartime woe isn't nearly potent enough to buoy the feeble drama that plays out in the foreground.

The film has an unabashed romantic tone that's matched by Wenders' usual flair for visual drama.

Offers little in the way of splendor in the grass.

Should be shot at sunrise. Or strung up by the neck from a tall tree. Or at least run out of town by a big posse.

This grade-Z programmer is a painfully earnest, clichéd, amateurish waste of time.

Who the heck green-lit this garbage heap anyway?

Engagingly silly sub-"Moonlighting"-style banter.

A sleek rip-off of "The Birds" that is fast, furious, and watchable, but lacking in the two elements most essential to a silly screamfest like this: scares and laughs.

I'd rather go on an all-Crisco diet than sit through Poor White Trash again.

A miserable western that is clearly headed downward toward the latter destination.

There's no spirit of adventure to separate this one from the pack.

Black, who is creatively marooned in the thankless Chris Farley fat-boy role, deserve better, and so do we.

It's a sugar rush that'll leave you feeling like a rotten cavity.

This talky, self-important flick is a bore of biblical proportions.

Frankly, there wouldn't have been enough shtick here to warrant an SNL skit. And if the material isn't even up to those standards, then who the hell green-lit it as a feature?

A vanity vehicle for the dubious acting talents of Pras.

Take the G out of Glitter and it's litter.