Rene Rodriguez

The new version uses addiction as a vehicle to tackle larger themes, eloquently explored by Monahan’s dialogue, which sings in a way uncommon to tough-guy crime-dramas.

The scattershot nature of the script, which feels as if it had been made up on the spot, leaves the actors looking like they're enjoying some private joke not shared with the audience. Self-indulgent does not even begin to describe it.

The story's historical setting is fascinating, but the movie is populated by thin, uninvolving characters.

Everyone up on the screen appears to be having so much fun, you wish the movie found a way to let you into the party.

None of the actors is able to do much with their characters, because they are all playing game pieces on a schematic board. Rendition has passion to spare, but it is saddled with a story designed exclusively to drive home the filmmakers' message.

That's what The Sandlot repeatedly does: Confound your expectations. It's a charming and hilarious flick for kids (boys in particular will eat it up) that feels remarkably fresh, even during its occasional foray into cliche land. [7 Apr 1993, p.E1]

A continuous parade of slaughter.

Doesn't quite avoid the pitfalls of its genre, but at least the movie has the decency to make you laugh on its way to a foregone conclusion. Also, did I mention the sex?

The Conspirator hits a new nadir for Redford: Sitting through this stage-bound, talky, stiffly-acted movie reminded me of having to endure the Hall of Presidents attraction at Walt Disney World (one of the few existing bits of proof that Disney had a dark and evil side).

A mean and exceedingly well-made little B-picture, but the questions it raises are far too complex to answer with a simple gunshot.

It's like a tantalizing CliffsNotes version of what could have been.

What's missing, really, is a point. Like "Snow Falling on Cedars," Hicks composes every shot in Hearts in Atlantis as if it were his last.

Snatch is admittedly superficial, if not downright disposable. More importantly, though, the movie is also fantastic, cheeky fun.

It's crisp, efficient, well-made and strangely, vaguely dull.

The clownish humor is imbued with a great, genuine pain. Unfortunately, the twist proves too much for the filmmakers to handle. The second half of The D Train collapses into a series of plot curlicues and narrative dead-ends. The picture loses its nerve and opts for a pat, wan resolution.

Raunchy, provocative and often very funny.

Plot? There is no plot. You want plot, go read "War and Peace."

In Dodgeball, Vaughn is stuck playing the straight man to a collection of stooges, and he looks utterly bored doing it.

A mess, but an energetic, convivial mess.

Much of The Men Who Stare at Goats is indeed amusing, although mostly in a mild, setting-the-stage kind of way, and your smiles eventually turn to yawns.

What Passion ultimately lacks most, ironically, is passion, the artistic fervor that distinguished all his best pictures. This one feels like a throwaway by a gifted filmmaker who has run out of ideas.

Once the premise has been established, the film goes absolutely nowhere.

The main problem with The Hulk, really, is that there isn't enough Hulk in it.

To Rome with Love is so inviting, and most of its gaggle of characters so diverse and likable, it's doubly disappointing that Allen, who wrote and directed the movie, can't think of what to do with them.

The film also plays to the strengths of the found-footage format, proving that sometimes the scariest things are the ones you can barely see. For horror hounds, this is required viewing.

May be the grandest looking film ever made on the subject, but it lacks the most essential element of all: passion.

Shirley MacLaine pops up as Walter’s ever-forgiving mother, and Wigg kills in an elevating sequence in which she sings David Bowie’s Space Oddity at a karaoke bar. Penn only gets one scene, but it’s a great one, and it reminds you how funny of an actor he can be.

Essentially, You Don't Mess With the Zohan isn't all that different in tone and sensibility from Sandler's previous films, but he's really trying in this one, and the effort pays off.

By the time the end credits roll, you're still not sure what kind of movie The Hunting Party is supposed to be, other than just queasy.

A drama about dysfunction, spelling bees, mental illness, Hare Krishnas and kaballah. The movie is just as unwieldy as it sounds, except that it also stars Richard Gere.

There’s a fleet and funny comic-book movie nestled inside Thor: The Dark World. You catch glimpses of it here and there.

Whatever goodwill Stuart Saves His Family manages to work up disappears by the maudlin, dramatic finale. [14 Apr 1995, p.5G]

Director Stuart Blumberg’s movie, which features a surprisingly starry cast, comes off as superficial and trite.

But there's nothing in this amateurish movie that the opening credits of last year's "Go" didn't do better.

A triumph of technology over humanity, and if it falls short of a completely fulfilling experience, it also achieves the kind of primal emotion movies were invented for: wonder.

It is a grand-looking, grandly empty pageant.

It's a mean, incendiary picture that, below the surface, relies on racial hatred (as in white vs. black) to propel its story. But Trespass does deliver a roller coaster ride of blazing guns, heroic machismo and bullet-riddled bodies. The unsavoriness that propels some of those thrills is simply part of the game. [26 Dec 1992, p.E4]

Art School Confidential, the first disappointment from director Terry Zwigoff, is all glum, dour cynicism.

So I Married an Axe Murderer is a clumsy mishmash of Saturday Night Live sketches and a rambling comic-thriller plot that wastes the promise of twisted laughs presented by its '50s B-movie title. [30 July 1993, p.G7]

The enchanting A Walk in the Clouds glows in the luminous tones of a fondly remembered tale, like an old bit of nostalgia your grandfather might have recounted on a clear-skied summer night. It's sweet and decorous and familiar -- you'll be able to map out the plot 15 minutes into it -- but even that works in the movie's favor. It gives predictability a good name. [11 Aug 1995, p.5G]

Beautifully shot by the great Vilmos Zsigmond, the movie is watchable, sporadically amusing and ultimately frustrating, because Allen is capable of so much more, but doesn't appear interested -- or willing -- to push himself any longer.

Loses its nerve in the final minutes, relying on a series of contrivances to arrive at an unconvincingly pat, happy ending. The story begged for a darker, more biting resolution.

In his quest to capture truth and honesty, (Korine) has made a movie that is practically impossible to like.

As light and fluffy as it is, Return to Me still proves surprisingly inviting.

There's no bite or sting, nor is there a single moment when the film is anything close to scary. It isn't ever engaging, either; it's a dull, sluggish bum-out.

But this serious film feels strangely unfinished, as if it hadn't been fully thought out. [18 Feb 1994, p.G5]

When Escape From L.A. isn't being ridiculous, it's merely dumb. It's no fun at all. [09 Aug 1996, p.6G]

For its first hour or so, Oblivion is a visually mesmerizing, intriguing picture that doesn’t feel like the same-old: It engages your eyes and piques your curiosity. Then, gradually, the novelty wears off, the clichés start to pile up and we’re back to Post-Apocalyptic Dystopia 101.

The movie wants to be an exploration of family ties and the various ways in which the people we love respond in times of crisis, but the drama is unconvincing, the characters are ill-defined, and Fischer, so good on The Office, seems a bit incomplete without Jim at her side.

Streep is simply amazing to behold, an actress who invests every fiber of her being -- every gesture, every inflection, every strand of hair -- into her performance.

For those with the patience to latch onto Van Sant's slow, methodical groove. It's worth trying.

The movie is bouncy and zesty, its energy unflagging, and some of the big numbers are heavily tinged with Bollywood. Conceptually, it should have been a trip.

Feels so slight and trivial, like a cute but small idea blown up to proportions it does not merit. A surprisingly unfunny, belabored and unimaginative comedy, Bee Movie is a huge disappointment considering the extent of Seinfeld's participation.

Like the type of music it celebrates, Rock Star is just a lot of posing, adding up to very little.

Like a lot of anime, the movie remains entertaining even when you have no idea what's going on.

Josh Brolin and Robert Rusler star in this 1980s-era guilty pleasure that reimagines Romeo & Juliet as a war between rival skateboard gangs (yes, there used to be such a thing).

The Signal is too ambitious for its own good: The movie is built on shells of ideas and concepts that haven’t been fully thought out, and once it’s over, the movie collapses the more you think about it.

Succeeds where so many other recent horror pictures have failed: It consistently scares you silly.

There are frothy romantic comedies and then there is Jet Lag, a movie so thin it borders on nonexistence.

Its lingering hangover, however, is decidedly pleasant.

Does anyone openly admit to enjoying these things? Small kids may find Ernest's slapstick antics mildly amusing, but even the most fervent Ernest fan (if there is such a thing) will grow tired and annoyed very quickly here. [12 Nov 1993, p.E4]

Alice in Wonderland is curiously devoid of metaphors and allegories about a young woman on the cusp of adulthood, about to be engaged by arrangement to a loathsome toad of a man she can barely stomach. The lack of psychological subtext is hugely disappointing.

Why does The Big Year's trailer intentionally hide what the film is really about? Here's why: Because bird-watching - or birding, as practitioners prefer to call it - makes for a stupefyingly boring movie.

It's another portrait of amoral, hedonistic youth gone awry, a la Larry Clark's "Bully", and it is alternately engrossing and ridiculous, often in the span of one scene to the next.

Eclectic, grandly engaging documentary.

A wobbly enterprise saddled by stilted dialogue and convenient contrivances. But view it as a Woody Allen film, and the plot thickens.

There's enough outrageousness and ribald humor in Kika to please Almodovar fans, and though the movie is far from being his most accessible, even newcomers will find much to like, provided they can follow his eccentric, offbeat rhythms. [6 May 1994, p.G4]

Doesn't conclude so much as just stop, because Brooks, having come up with a great hook for a movie, didn't bother to come up with a satisfying story to go along with it.

Comes packed with so many plot twists and reversals, there's barely any room left over for a story: The movie is all clever gotchas and hoodwinks, without any substance to go along with them.

Certainly a grand-looking picture. For a film that's filled with CGI effects, there wasn't a single shot that looked artificial, and the production design is tremendous. But it's a hollow, boring spectacle.

This movie demands that the viewer -- and even its own characters -- turn into thumb-sucking 3-year-olds with no need for plausibility or logic, as long as there are lots of flashing lights and whooshing noises emanating from the screen.

Although the characters are all cartoons, Ritchie still invests them with enough personality to make them stand out as real people, which is what makes RocknRolla much more involving than your typical Tarantino ripoff.

Despite its astronomical body count, John Dies at the End never takes itself seriously, and neither should you.

If you're in the proper frame of mind -- namely, forgiving -- there's some fun to be had here, but you'll respect Don't Be a Menace's daring more than you will its humor. [15 Jan 1996, p.8C]

Hysteria never gets too preachy or ponderous, and there's something in the film to educate even the most learned viewer.

The Amazing Spider-Man 2 grows stronger and more engrossing as it unfolds.

Enemy at the Gates will pique your interest in the Battle of Stalingrad, but it leaves that interest sadly unsated.

This is a gorgeous, flashy, widescreen epic, like "Boogie Nights" or "Casino," about the most essential things in life: Family, friends and love. But most of all, love.

Milks Carter's story for maximum "inspirational" value, and at times the movie skirts dangerously close to afterschool-special territory.

It's the smartest stupid movie of the summer. [5 Aug 1994, p.G5]

There is also a last-minute "Sixth Sense" twist, although it definitely won't make you sit through the movie again to see if the filmmakers cheated.

You know something's amiss when you're in the middle of a picture that runs under three hours and you're tempted to whip out your cellphone and send friends a text message that reads "Send food."

What O lacks is a sense of spontaneity: Despite its contemporary dialogue and manner, the movie can't overcome a nagging aura of artifice.

It's fun to wonder what Romero's realistic, no-frills cinematic style and jolting shocks would have brought to good King novels like Pet Sematary or The Stand. With The Dark Half, he tries hard -- it's his best directorial work in years -- but his reverence for the mediocre novel produces merely a serviceable thriller. [23 Apr 1993, p.G5]

The worst kind of sequel -- the kind that exists only to give you more-more-more of what you liked the first time around, without ever justifying its own existence. This lavish, superbly designed film goes on for an exhausting 2½ hours.

In his debut, Alwyn comes off as a likable, sympathetic screen presence capable of handling more difficult material. He’ll have plenty more opportunities. Billy Lynn’s Long Halftime Walk, though, will be forgotten in a month’s time.

And the animation, ultimately, is what makes Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs worth seeing again on the big screen. Aladdin may have grossed more than $200 million, but even its state-of- the-art, computer-assisted animation can't surpass the detail and fluidity, the denser-than-reality feel, the astonishing palette (check out the red on the poisoned apple) of the film. Watching it, you don't forget it's a cartoon: You relish that it is. What bigger compliment is there than that? [2 July 1993, p.G5]

This Carrie becomes less involving as it goes along, ceding its emotional power to special effects and unconvincing gore, and culminating with a closing shot so lame and uninspired, it’s as if the filmmakers just gave up and called it a day.

It's hard to knock The Cutting Edge without feeling like a grouch. It aims to be nothing more than an old-fashioned love story with plenty of banter between its two leads and a straightforward plot about Olympic ice skating. The actors work hard...But the script rings false from the get-go; the dialogue is straight from the school of clever quips and snappy comebacks, and the romantic plotline has been done so many times before, it's beyond cliched. It's too flimsy to carry a whole movie. [27 March 1992, p.G13]

I'm not suggesting Costner and Kutcher should run out and remake "Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid" just yet, but in The Guardian, the two actors turn out to complement each other well enough to make a lot of this supremely derivative and formulaic picture go down better than it should.

If you can overlook the lack of logic inherent in its central conceit, In Time makes for a fun, stylish piece of speculative sci-fi.

There's nothing in Bounce you haven't seen before, but the movie is surprisingly unsentimental, the Paltrow factor cannot be denied.

The most charming bad movie ever spun off a hit TV show.

Theron's transformation in Monster goes far beyond mere appearance. As Wuornos, the actress gets to display a blunt, graceless physicality that is rarely needed in women's roles, which are traditionally internal.

Plays like a colorful but inert timekiller that you might tolerate while dozing off in front of the TV, but only because you are too sleepy to reach for the remote control.

Sometimes, love can feel like hate or annoyance — it is, as the title states, strange. But sometimes, more often than not, it can be a wonderful thing.

It's all speed, movement and blood -- lots and lots of blood.

You have to overlook a whole lot of guff in order to enjoy the slight but pleasurable entertainment of The Switch.

The Next Three Days might have fared a lot better if the screenwriters had stuck to "The Next Two Days."

Still, this is one French comedy that could have used a little more hand wringing and a little less whimsy.

This slick, sick remake of the 1977 Wes Craven cult shocker is more of a glum bummer than a horror show.

Comes off as an episode of "Beverly Hills, 90210" where, instead of spoiled rich kids, the characters are all ballet stars in the making.

The movie has an undeniable visceral power. It is also a loud, grating wallow in dime-store despair, a cheap and hollow button-puncher.

Chasing Madoff is as much a journalistic exposé of Madoff as it is a love letter to Markopolos, shot in the style of "Natural Born Killers" by a director terrified of boring his audience. In Proserman, the documentary genre finds its own Michael Bay.

In Exodus: Gods and Kings, Scott settles for sticking (mostly) to the Book, skipping the boring parts in order to dish out the razzle-dazzle. This is spectacular entertainment, practically a theme park ride, that could have used more spirituality and soul.

At its best when it is at its most freewheeling -- when it tramples past logic, motivation and basic plausibility in its pursuit of a funny, whimsical kind of nonsense.

Fallen may not scare you, but it'll certainly haunt you. [16 Jan 1998, p.4G]

The fact that the entire film is in Spanish, and Ferrell plays a Mexican named Armando, are two of the tamest elements in the movie.

300 is at its best when it settles for purely visceral thrills, such as Leonidas' battle against a hulking warrior twice the size of a normal man. The movie's broad strokes are all superlative: It's the details that keep 300 from being anything more than a striking curiosity.

If this rousing, technically dazzling movie doesn't get you going, then you probably didn't like football to being with.

Intrigues mainly for its spare style and brittle, sweat-soaked performances.

Never becomes cloying, because although Agresti does not lose sight of the great sadness at the center of his tale, he resists the temptation to overplay its bigger moments.

The film isn't as concerned with terrifying you as it is with showing you a good time, culminating with an over-the-top climax that is simultaneously utterly ridiculous and enjoyable.

In The Monuments Men, director George Clooney takes a wild, stranger-than-fiction true story and turns it into a dull, prestigious slog.

An hour after seeing it, you may not remember what The International was about. But you'll certainly remember that shootout. That is something to behold.

The movie is a bauble, but it's an enjoyably weird and original one, and it is anchored by Black's constantly amusing performance.

So needlessly convoluted, so crammed with subplots within subplots, it simply forgets about its gangland "Romeo & Juliet" premise.

The movie is so cheerfully, furiously relentless, its contagious silliness wears you down.

A facile treatment of a complicated subject.

The whole movie is at once formulaic, clichéd and predictable, yet surprising, engaging and filled with subtle, unexpected details.

The Frighteners never finds a satisfying groove -- comedy-horror hybrids are formidably challenging -- but moments in it reach giddy, frantic heights. [19 July 1996, p.5G]

A flamboyant but hollow exercise in glitz and pizzazz.

The Getaway is more of a carbon copy than a new take on the same story. This new version is a bit bloodier, considerably sexier -- there's one particularly steamy love scene here -- and just as dull and irrelevant as the original. [11 Feb 1994, p.G5]

The Golden Compass comes close, and its originality cannot be denied, but it never quite crosses over into your heart. It stops at your eyes.

The script is riddled with so many clichés, you count on the battle scenes to wake you from your stupor.

Seems to vanish from memory even as you're watching it. The movie is an exercise in minimalist storytelling.

A devilish little comedy whose urbane, satirical humor will probably sail right over the heads of audiences weaned on Scream.

Unfortunately, The Big Lebowski doesn't hang together, and it's not supposed to: That's just the way the Coens want it. In some circles, this will be celebrated as the brothers' refusal to "sell out" after achieving Oscar glory. But anyone hoping for a real movie will see The Big Lebowski as nothing more than a pleasant waste of time. [6 March 1998, p.5G]

A masterpiece of pop filmmaking -- a fantastic, exuberant entertainment that manages to be both sleek and substantial without being patronizing.

As the character grows soft and sentimental, so does La Soga, and the film's edge is terminally dulled by an avalanche of cliches and schmaltz.

The Neon Demon is a voluptuous provocation, a stylish free-fall down a gonzo rabbit hole that is as entrancing as it is maddening. Here is a rarity in this season of summer movie doldrums: A film that is guaranteed to elicit strong reactions.

There's a frothy, almost whimsical undercurrent quietly bubbling beneath the dead-serious story, and it finally bursts to the forefront in the ridiculously happy finale, which argues without the slightest bit of shame that crime sometimes does pay - really, really well.

The Brothers Grimm gives you plenty to look at, but it's not much to see.

The talented cast fails to gel into a dynamic ensemble.

The actors are fine: It's their long, arduous trek that lets the movie down.

Yes, it creaks. It creaks mightily. But The Net cheerfully plugs along, asking you to swallow one whopper after the next without burping. [28 July 1995, p.6G]

Wild Bill is handsomely mounted and nicely acted, but it's also strangely irrelevant, a big ho-hum of a movie. [01 Dec 1995, p.5G]

As a story, Mamma Mia! is a sham, a narrative so rickety it makes "Grease" seem like Shakespeare. It fails as a musical, too, since only about half of the songs have any bearing on the scene that preceded them.

The moral of Irreversible -- time destroys everything -- isn't nearly as profound as writer-director Gaspar Noé seems to think it is, which is why some critics have already dismissed the movie as the facile, misogynistic posturings of a provocateur.

Proves there are some things cartoons can't do better than live action after all.

An uncommonly playful fright machine -- a fun house factory of scares.

Casino Jack fails at its most critical mission: Laying out in clear detail exactly how and when Abramoff broke the law.

The acting is better than Ivy deserves. Barrymore is surprisingly good, bringing the right amount of sexuality and mischief to her performance without coming across as ridiculous. It's tough for someone known mostly as a child actor to break into more adult roles, but she pulls it off. [04 Jun 1992, p.F3]

The whole thing feels at least three summers too stale.

The film's refusal to take its characters anything less than seriously makes it cut deeper than a Will Ferrell lampoon.

The Fountain is probably too muddled and half-baked to even attain cult status -- but you can still see what writer-director Darren Aronofsky was striving for, and even if his reach exceeded his grasp, his intentions were both admirable and worthy of respect.

The movie is sloppy and scattershot, and proud of it. It wears its slipshod, anything-for-a-laugh structure like a badge of honor: Smith is nothing if not self-deprecating.

For all its respectable airs, The Accountant mostly induces shrugs. Sometimes, B-movies fare better when they settle for being their lowbrow selves.

It's beautiful to look at, but there's little there to savor.

If you don't have a dog waiting for you at home after seeing A Letter to True, you'll want one.

The stupendously stupid The Program purports to detail one season in the life of the football team of Eastern State University as it struggles for a college bowl berth, but the players must overcome such inflated melodramatic claptrap it's a miracle they ever make it onto the field at all. [27 Sept 1993, p.C6]

The strength of the performances, along with the good will generated by these flawed but likable characters, carry the movie through.

A crowd-pleasing comedy that makes up for its formulaic, sitcom-ready premise with likable performances and an inviting sense of humor.

Chuck Norris is also in this movie, although you should know that he gets roughly five minutes of screen time, half of those devoted to his telling of a Chuck Norris joke. That is as funny as the movie's self-aware humor gets.

The dialogue is sparse but well used -- it's refreshing to see a movie where people don't feel compelled to talk all the time.

Timeline gives Gigli serious competition for worst film of the year honors.

The film is not so much suspenseful as intriguing.

The Avengers has a knockout final 30 minutes, all gee-whiz crash and bang and eye candy that makes grand use of 3D and IMAX and all the other toys. But the Transformers movies did that, too.

Lovelace is a timid gloss over on a hardcore subject — a movie that takes a wild true story and shoehorns it into a formulaic mold.

Parkland is wildly uneven, although compulsively watchable.

When Mulholland Falls should reverberate with complexity, it simply echoes other movies. It's a glossy tribute to film noir, not a memorable entry in the genre. It's too simple-minded, yet it leaves a heap of questions unanswered. [26 Apr 1996, p.5G]

Taken is nonsense, but it's terrifically entertaining nonsense.

It's a testament to their performances -- and the spirit of this surprisingly raunchy, decidedly R-rated comedy -- that by the end credits, you've grown to like them a little bit. You just wouldn't want to live with them.

Amid such a strong cast hitting all the right notes, Caruso looks wan, though he's not bad enough to sink the movie. [21 Apr 1995, p.5G]

Reacher is so good at everything he does, and Cruise plays him in such a robotic manner, that the movie becomes a bit of a bore: The hero is practically omnipotent.

But Romeo Is Bleeding ultimately belongs to Olin. When she and Oldman finally begin to go at it, no holds barred, in the last 20 minutes, the film becomes an audacious free-for-all, a bloody battle of the sexes that reaches a frantic fever pitch that will leave you giddy. It is film noir at its funniest -- and darkest. [4 Feb 1994, p.5]

A revealing and bluntly honest portrait of a previously unknown filmmaker.

Suffers from dialogue that often sounds like convenient exposition as well as from a climax that feels too pat and prosaic. But the film is peppered with small, explosive scenes that have a refreshing complexity.

True Story marks the directorial debut of Rupert Goold, a respected British theater veteran who also co-wrote the script and knows how to engage the viewer with simple scenes of two people talking (with a few modifications, this could have easily been a play).

It makes the predictable journey surprisingly fun and enjoyable.

By the end, Turtles Can Fly becomes a lyrical and heartbreaking reminder of the human toll of war.

Hellraiser III manages to make even the fearsome Pinhead himself seem like. . .well, a pinhead. Clive, it's time to give these characters a rest. [19 Sep 1992, p.E5]

With such a large cast, none of the actors is able to turn her character into a fully realized person.

A coming-of-age film you've seen before. [20 Oct 1995, p.8G]

Red State is as profane and anti-establishment as any of his other films, but the stakes are infinitely higher this time: This Kevin Smith movie has an astonishing body count.

Everyone in Hit and Run is clearly having a good time. It's the audience that gets left out of the fun.

Planet of the Apes is never quite boring -- the movie is constantly giving you something new to look at -- but it's still a disappointingly dull and underplotted ride.

Hollow and pointless.

The best thing about this big, imaginatively detailed movie is its premise, which director Francis Lawrence, a music-video veteran, takes his time exploring.

Unfortunately, Life After Beth starts feeling more conventional the wilder and darker it gets, and the laughs become more sparse as the movie winds to its bizarre and but unsatisfying conclusion.

There is no faulting the big set pieces, which are shot and edited skillfully. But without involving characters to go along with them, those sequences make for awfully empty movie calories.

At its best when it simply lets Hoffman and De Niro play off each other .

For the most part, Tombstone is inept. Some of the performances are wincingly bad: Dana Delany, playing a touring actress with the hots for Wyatt, is particularly embarrassing. Director George P. Cosmatos (Leviathan) firmly cements his hack status: He takes nearly an hour to get things rolling, then fails to build any sort of momentum. [25 Dec 1993, p.F1]

It's a mean little movie, but it's also thin and repetitive, a premise in search of a story.

Two for the Money, which was written by Dan Gilroy (Freejack, Chasers), is so badly constructed and illogical that its inanities manage to drown the actor (Pacino) out.

In Murder by Numbers, though, even Schroeder can't keep his own boredom from showing.

The longest and talkiest installment in the blockbuster Pirates trilogy, At World's End doesn't even have the decency to provide a good action sequence until more than two hours in.

A slow, inexorable slog to the titular event -- a public execution so inconceivably violent and brutal the movie practically dares you not to look away.

Lack of any real substance.

Unfortunately, The Island grows dumber as it goes along, gradually disintegrating into a generic good-versus-evil spectacular that not only defies all known laws of gravity and physics, but also suffers from the lack of morality that plagues Bay's films.

By flaunting its own stupidity, The Ten practically dares you not to laugh at it, like a stand-up comic who sells an unfunny joke through the ferocity of his delivery.

The light-hearted fun seeps out of the movie, replaced by trite interludes of coming-out angst.

Aside from a disturbingly graphic depiction of a drowning, there is also death by fire, electrocution and giant falling objects.

Ichaso demonstrates he's ready for the big leagues: His movie is noble and slick, technically accomplished. But it never touches the heart. [26 Feb 1994, p.G3]

Every summer movie season usually has at least one spectacular, disastrous flame-out, and although the dog days of August still loom, I doubt there will come a big-budget blockbuster worse than Cowboys and Aliens.

The unrelentingly dull Where the Money Is tests his (Newman's) legendary charisma in a way no actor could overcome.

What The Four Feathers lacks is genuine sweep or feeling or even a character worth caring about.

Such smooth, crisp entertainment, you barely even notice it has nothing new to say.

Dragonheart is a silly, foolhardy epic, a movie so thoroughly misconceived it's as if its creators set out to make a big, expensive film few people would want to see -- and one that would frustrate those who did. [31 May 1996, p.5G]

As a director, Talkington has a good sense of pacing: The movie rarely stands still. But too much of Love and a .45 is simply poorly executed rehash. [18 Nov 1994, p.G19]

A psychological thriller in serious need of both psychology and thrills, Cassandra's Dream is a wan, exceedingly minor drama by Woody Allen, who has started to recycle himself in London the way he had long been recycling his New York City pictures.

By film's end, you realize you've sat through an effective rip-off of "Meet the Parents."

Because it's Pacino, though, Simone is never quite boring.

Aside from satisfying some kind of ghoulish curiosity about how such an incident could possibly happen, there's precious little in Death of a President to justify the extremity of its central conceit.

Fascinating in concept but a disaster in execution.

If Dreamcatcher ultimately feels like an unwieldy pastiche, at least it's never boring.

The best thing about this mildly diverting but instantly forgettable comedy is that it seems to have awakened something in Murphy that had laid dormant for much of the past two decades.

Demolition is so busy trying to be profound, the film doesn’t have much use for humor.

The last 40 minutes test your patience -- and intelligence -- in a way the rest of this big, dumb, crazy movie never does:

Veteran director Manuel Gomez-Pereira (Boca a Boca, Between Your Legs) falls short of the manic screwball farce he was aiming for.

Curiously, TRON: Legacy makes the same mistake the original did: All the best stuff comes in the first act. The rest of the movie is as exciting as an overnight round of computer coding.

The frustratingly uneven comedy Tropic Thunder has moments of full-on, bust-a-gut hilarity, along with long stretches where you can hear the crickets chirping in the theater.

The 6th Day gets a lot of mileage out of Schwarzenegger, who once seemed incapable of playing anything other than a cartoon but is becoming more and more of a "real" person with age.

The movie's scientific content is so fascinating that it almost feels like a bonus that Kinsey himself is such an intriguing figure.

There is absolutely nothing in this prequel/remake that improves on the first film or negates it in any way. If you've never seen The Thing - and you really should - stick with the genuine 1982 article and skip this elaborate act of mimicry.

There's enough gee-whiz bang in Richie Rich to keep young viewers entertained, though much of it is woefully uninspired. [21 Dec 1994, p.E1]

The actors, many of them now in their mid-30s, look understandably fuller in the face and thicker around the waist. The jokes, too, are starting to show their age: They wobble.

The result, as is always the case with short story collections, is a mixed bag, although unlike "Paris Je T'Aime," the duds outnumber the winners this time.

An irritatingly contrived drama.

Sporadically engrossing in a pulpy kind of way.

This is an eerie, inventively mounted movie: It's a shivery fun time, filled with dark corners, deserted hallways and sudden apparitions. But it never manages to genuinely rattle you.

The most timid in the series. There's no invention in it, no sense of discovery. Only the impressively orchestrated action sequences feel fresh.

For all its sweat and muscle, Gladiator packs a weak punch. [6 March 1992, p.G5]

Singleton's sloppiest, laziest movie to date, springing to life in fits and starts, risibly mawkish and occasionally gripping, and often feeling like it was made up on the set.

This might have been OK for cable, but as a night out at the movies, it feels like a bit of a cheat.

The shrill musical score alone will keep you awake, but for a film filled with romance, zombies, mad scientists and existential quests, Mary Shelley's Frankenstein is surprisingly dull. [04 Nov 1994, p.G4]

The Vanishing hooks you and doesn't let go for a good while, but it settles into formulaic, stalk-and-slash antics in its last 15 minutes. Which makes its failure hurt even more. [05 Feb 1993, p.G5]

The entire movie bears the whiff of a vanity project — a modestly budgeted bone Universal Pictures threw at Diesel so he would keep starring in Fast and Furious pictures. Those movies are bank; Riddick is rank.

Suffers from a fatal lack of purpose. This sleek, visually inventive but frustratingly flat movie is made up entirely of throwaway bits -- occasionally amusing, even ingenious bits. But still, they're just bits.

Beautifully crafted, intricately plotted and obviously a labor of love. It is also a mess.

If you go in expecting a serious, no-nonsense chiller in the Alien vein, you'll come away disappointed. Despite its big-name cast and dead-serious tone, Species is a spiritual throwback to 1950s cheesy sci-fi flicks like It Came From Outer Space and It Conquered the World. [07 July 1995, p.4G]

This is certainly not a movie worth going out of your way for, but don't be surprised if you happen to come across it on cable one rainy Sunday afternoon and find yourself watching it to the end. Even Lopez pulls off a few good moments.

Hilarious, but it isn't much of a movie.

If you're interested in the sheer craft of filmmaking, Cloud Atlas is required viewing - a rare example of a movie getting by entirely on technique and creative bravado.

Nine isn't so much a movie as it is a collection of standalone musical numbers, strung together by the thinnest of plots.

Slight and not exactly memorable, but it moves quickly and has some surprising twists and top-notch performances all around.

"The silence will kill you!" warn the posters for Silent House. That's only if the boredom doesn't get you first, though.

The movie's exploration of prejudice within the military is certainly on target, but it's presented with all the finesse of a classroom civics lesson.

Cleaner, cuter animal antics.

It's all very "Cuckoo's Nest," but in a glib, facile way, and it leaves K-PAX adrift in its fuzzy, New-Agey orbit.

The Mechanic remains singularly uninvolving - a rote exercise in a genre with characters so familiar they barely register.

Avary suggests much more than he shows, but his style carries such urgency, you walk away convinced you saw every bullet hit its mark. On that level, Killing Zoe should get Avary noticed -- the long, disastrous and occasionally suspenseful heist is the best part of the movie -- but it's the stuff at the edges that shows this guy has genuine talent. [28 Oct 1994, p.G4]

One of the surprises of Spike Lee’s Oldboy is just how dark the film dares to get.

You know a movie's not working when you see minotaurs, flying monkeys, "The Wizard of Oz's" Toto and Helen Mirren riding a unicorn -- all on the screen at the same time -- and you're still waiting for the thing to be over so you can go home and get on with your life.

Shakespeare purists may scoff and wonder what the point is, but Morrissette would probably shrug and say ``Why not?''

Decidedly minor Woody.

Ardor is never boring, but it’s never all that engaging, either. Here is a movie that ends with a can’t-miss scenario — a siege on a farmhouse in which the heroes are vastly outnumbered and outgunned — yet still fails to ever quicken your pulse.

Survives its surface annoyances because Lynch's script also has ambition, heart and something to say other than love conquers all.

Altman seems lost here. We expect Ready to Wear to go behind the glamour of the fashion industry, uncover the pimples and scars on those flawless faces and bodies, wrinkle a few overpriced cat suits. But the movie is as superficial as its subject. [24 Dec 1994, p.G1]

There's no denying the movie's visceral impact: It's too bad, though, that Jakubowicz isn't aiming for anything other than sensation.

Never feels like anything more than a Saturday morning cartoon pumped up to big-screen dimensions.

Isn't only the silliest, most ridiculous movie of the summer; it may also be the most flat-out fun.

Only a very stony heart could resist its pull.

There's plenty in Tokyo Decadence to titillate, and plenty to shock, too, and that should be enough to motivate some people into seeing it. The movie is never pornographic, though those who don't get out much are bound to be offended. There are also some interesting observations on Japanese culture put forth by Ai's various clients, though she remains an uninteresting cipher. Despite Murakami's best efforts, the things you'll remember most about Tokyo Decadence are the naughty bits. [23 Aug 1993, p.C5]

The message in Spanglish is thoughtful and astute; it's the delivery that could use some work.

The fact that Swept Away got made at all implies there simply is no dissuading Madonna from her movie-star aspirations. Her tenacity is admirable, but it's also block-headed.

Does serve up an inspired gag every once in a while.

Bullet in the Head is a throwback to the past with its eyes trained on the present, and it proves Hill has kept up with the times.

It's an exploitation B-flick with a grade-A cast. [17 Mar 1995, p.5G]

Regardless of its veracity, this portrait of a drug-addled star who just wants to express himself artistically contains implications that exceed the filmmakers' intentions.

Technically a prequel to "Da Vinci" but could also pass for a two-hour episode of "24," rarely stands still long enough for anyone to deliver a monologue.

You don't walk into Fortress expecting much, and the fact that it entertains as well as it does comes as a surprise. There's plenty of violence and gore here -- Gordon hasn't forgotten his Re-Animator roots -- and the plot offers enough curves and twists to make you overlook the movie's limitations. [7 Sept 1993, p.D6]

The Doom Generation is Araki's boldest -- and best -- movie yet, his most blatantly offensive, his most sexually explicit and by far his bloodiest. [17 Nov 1995, p.6G]

Cynics may roll their eyes at Hardball's earnestness, but the movie proves even the most conventional stories can move and engage you, provided they're told well.

The Mummy was certainly no "Raiders," but as far as summer movies go, it was just good enough.

You can only string an audience along for so long with scary masks and sudden appearances at the window, and after a while, the suspense starts seeping out of The Strangers, because you realize that's all there's going to be to the movie.

May not be so deep or richly imagined as J.K. Rowling's universe of magic and Muggles, but the film is populated by likable characters, great special effects and a neat premise.

Has all the depth of an episode of "Joey."

Even if you're willing to overlook the preposterous plot holes in its premise, Accepted pushes its luck in its final half-hour.

A wobbly fantasy that relies on the actor's mischievous energy and rakish charisma for its laughs.

Kitano's most enjoyable, flat-out fun movie, provided you can stomach the violence.

The movie is all moist grime and seedy atmosphere, and it's certainly something to look at: It's beautifully lurid. But it's an empty, unengaging movie, and by the end, it has become ridiculous, too.

Scott embraces the lightness of the material instead of trying to give it unnecessary weight, and even if he's far from the ideal filmmaker to choreograph bits of slapstick, A Good Year is never less than visually ravishing.

The Box is a mess, but it's a curiously haunting, intriguing, brain-tickling mess, and it delivers that "Donnie Darko" feeling in truckloads. Or should that be rocketloads?

It's a testament to the personalities of the actors, as well as the foundation laid by the original film, that we retain an emotional connection to the main players in Revolutions.

You come away from the movie lamenting the missed opportunity and wondering what a stronger, bolder filmmaker would have done with this material.

Not since Brian De Palma's "Carrie" has a horror movie so effectively exploited the genre as a metaphor for adolescent angst, female sexuality and the strange, sometimes corrosive bonds between girls who claim to be best friends.

And unlike other recent dramas such as "Rendition," the film never feels like it's preaching. Instead, it just urges: Whatever you believe, do something.

For all its noble intentions, the movie is really a work of crass exploitation -- an obvious and manipulative grab to cash in on the post-9/11 hero worship of the firefighting profession.

Reminiscent of Showgirls minus the sex, nudity, sleaze, bad acting and horrible dancing, Burlesque is a typical A Star is Born story.

If anyone other than Gus Van Sant had directed Restless, the film could have well been impossible to sit through.

Flyboys is so schematic and contrived, you can anticipate exactly what scene is going to come next, and who will be the next to die in combat, once you latch onto the structure of the script, which has all the inventiveness and ingenuity of a flow chart.

Never before has Egoyan made a picture this egregiously, relentlessly bad.

The lack of cynicism is refreshing, but someone needed to tell Redford pixie dust and a nine-iron will only get you so far.

Falls far short of the sweep, complexity and passion it seeks.

It's surprising to see a three-hour movie about Chicanos being distributed by a major studio, and Hackford had an opportunity to do something special. Instead, he simply gives us more of the same. [30 Apr 1993, p.G5]

The story's third-act detour into tragedy is predictable and unwelcome, providing a resolution that is too pat and familiar to be moving.

Full Grown Men marks the feature debut of director David Munro, who was born and raised in Miami and shoots Florida like a native.

Nine Months displays its Capraesque family values with pride, and it will make you laugh, but there's something oddly mechanical about it -- much like Grant himself. Whether or not the actor lives up to his own hype remains to be seen, but judging from Nine Months, his fame has begun to dwarf his talent. [12 July 1995, p.1E]

Combined with the sluggish story line, Daylight becomes a chore to sit through: The only people who want to get out of the tunnel more desperately than the characters in the movie are the ones stuck in the theater. [6 Dec 1996, p.5G]

The dead-serious Man on Fire awakens a genuine sense of bloodlust in the viewer. This is a slick, big-budget, A-list production designed to stoke our basest impulses -- to make us long for, and cheer at, bloody, merciless vengeance.

The movie shouldn’t be dismissed outright, either. It’s a creepy experiment that stays with you.

Falling into the trap that sinks most horror sequels, Blair Witch amps the jolts and shocks with more visceral frights (there’s some business involving an infected foot wound that is truly unnerving and also super gross) to diminishing results.

Lands with a thud right from its painfully unfunny prologue and maintains its plodding, exasperating course straight through to its car-chase-and-shootout finale.

Undeniably charming, and kids will certainly enjoy it.

There is so much that is wrong with The Alamo that it is easier to begin with what the movie gets right: Davy Crockett. As played by Billy Bob Thornton.

The film's earnestness makes up for its high corn factor.