Kevin Thomas

They never generates any real fear until its last minutes, by which time it is too late to redeem the dull events that preceded them.

It must be said that, stuck with a script full of plot holes, director David Price doesn't flinch. Both he and his key actors are clearly up to better material than Children of the Corn II: The Final Sacrifice.

The film is no more than a tedious, over-long Bollywood soap opera.

It's too labored and ponderous to qualify as a so-bad-it's-good amusement. Original Sin is merely an old-fashioned bore.

Jean-Luc Godard’s “King Lear” is his most off-putting picture since his unwatchable political films of the ‘70s.

Ready for a singing and dancing "Reservoir Dogs"?

Turns out to be a tedious and under-inspired comedy.

Misfires badly as both an entertainment and a message movie.

Not even a brief appearance by Quentin Tarantino and a ton of references to other movies enlivens the proceedings much.

A trite psychological thriller -- all buildup and no payoff, a mystery that essentially offers only two alternative solutions, which diminishes the element of surprise and strings the viewer along way past caring which possibility proves to be true.

A dreary title for an even drearier picture.

Leaves us with a heightened appreciation of the bold and personal films made by a number of filmmakers of the former Yugoslavia.

Best of the Best is a by-the-numbers martial-arts movie graced by several celebrated actors marking time between more rewarding assignments and crowned by an appallingly brutal Tae Kwan Do competition. There's nothing here except for karate fanatics. [10 Nov 1989, p.F15]

It's too bad this Rollerball veered off-track so swiftly, derailed by bad writing and possibly also by some of that extensive post-production reworking.

Good-natured but it's a dud.

Fandango overreaches badly and sinks under a heavy weight of symbolism, bathos and sheer preposterousness that no amount of humor and incident can redeem.

All strained artifice, inhabited by individuals who either lack dimension or are merely stereotypes. The result is a movie not nearly as amusing as its makers may think.

Pretty dreadful.

Opens and closes on a jaunty note: It's the tedious, relentlessly talky 80 minutes in between that's the problem.

Whatever his intentions, Clark, in his third outing as a director, has come up with a film that is seriously flawed.

Crewson is a game, experienced actress but hasn't sufficient star charisma to lift Suddenly Naked out of the doldrums.

Unfortunately, Jodorowsky is no Bunuel -- nor a Leone, for that matter -- and El Topo’s bloody odyssey, involving endless heavily symbolic encounters with the bizarre and fantastic, expresses the eternal tug of war between the savage and the spiritual in human nature on the most obvious level and in the most ponderous fashion.

Can never rise above the melodrama of a past era, despite a splendid, impassioned portrayal by Willem Dafoe and an affecting one by Luo Yan.

Eventually, Immigration Tango throws away what little credibility it has in going for a finish of total improbability and silliness.

Psycho Beach Party is, from the start, in dire need of the electroshock therapy that Florence ultimately undergoes.

Begins on a mildly entertaining note, with each successive vignette the film grows increasingly tedious.

You can't help but feel that Disney has delivered a turkey for Thanksgiving.

Even more feeble than the 1987 original.