Pete Vonder Haar

Reviewing it is a wholly meaningless exercise, but I do it against my better judgment that anyone even seeks a second opinion before plopping down their hard-earned money for garbage like this.

Vlahakis's tale should be compelling, but a weak script and mostly dull performances (one exception: Billy Zane . . . I know!) make A Green Story more monotonous than mythic.

An indolent, PG-13, Disney "biker" flick that does for comedies what Exxon did for Prince William Sound.

Bound to Vengeance strains credibility (seriously, she never calls the cops?) and swerves dangerously close to exploitation often enough that its semi-clever premise can't keep it on course.

It's an inferior remake (of a movie that wasn't that great to begin with), it's poorly acted, and it's yet another in an unending string of PG-13 "horror" movies that do nothing to build even the most rudimentary sense of real dread.

Compared to Norbit, “Date Movie” is "Casablanca." If I thought hijacking a plane carrying prints of the film and crashing it into Murphy’s house would put a stop to it, I’d go out and buy a box cutter right now.

That legendary adolescent tolerance for garbage may be severely tested by Supercross.

It isn't as if any of the actors do an especially bad job or anything – Fox is capable enough as the lead, and Whitley and Wilson especially carry themselves quite well – but you can't help asking yourself, what's the point? Are there that many more broad topics in need of shallow examination by a Hollywood studio picture?

The endless hidden connections and coincidences eventually become ridiculous.

The original movie One Missed Call is based on was pretty tame, at least by Miike standards. And since it appears studios have no intention of halting this flood of abysmal rehashes, allow me to suggest that they at least have the stones not to pussyfoot around and give us a remake worthy of Hollywood, of America, and of an audience that lacks the willpower to stop buying tickets to half-assed crap.

Vaxxed is, in the words of Sheriff Bart, the last act of a desperate man. It’s Andrew Wakefield’s Hail Mary, thrown — I hope — as his time in the public arena finally runs out.

Yoga Hosers is lazy, unfunny, and self-indulgent.

Home Sweet Hell is a pleasantly unpleasant dark comedy, one that gives new meaning to "detached and subdivided" in the mass production zone.

Locker 13 brings the hurt, and not in a good way.

Writer-director Clément Michel can't escape the usual infant-related movie pitfalls.

Hey, Crave, the jerk store called, and they're running out of you.

What starts out as a moderately interesting thriller in the vein of Blue Velvet and Angel Heart ends up less than the sum of its portentous parts.

Veers between flaccid slapstick and mean-spirited vulgarity.

One small step for bad filmmaking and one giant leap for the increasing insignificance of the former Michael Corleone.

Criminal negligence of Dolph is far from Black Water’s only sin — there’s also the sluggish pacing, murky musical score, and somnambulant lead — but it might be its most egregious.

Elapsed time before I walked out: 29 minutes Total laughs (in that period): 0

Scary Movie V murdered my capacity to feel joy.

L.A. Slasher isn't perceptive, shocking, or funny, and if it's remembered for anything, it will be for the tastelessly tone-deaf decision to have the Slasher kill a black actress by dragging her behind a van.

While his story is moving, Godspeed would perhaps have been more powerful if Barry spent more time balancing Jones's relative good fortune with the monumental hurdles faced by the less fortunate with similar injuries, instead of touching upon the issue in the film's final minutes.

Convergence ends up squandering too much of its setup time and rushing to a largely unsatisfying conclusion instead of actually coming together in a meaningful way.