Robert K. Elder

As scary and minor-chord heavy as FearDotCom can be, there's no big payoff, no logical resolution.

Offers the most onscreen explosions in recent memory. It's almost pornography for arsonists.

With Clockstoppers, Frakes hobbles along with a high-concept film that doesn't live up to its potential.

Black delivers the best line (“Do you want me to get naked and start the revolution?”), and Lithgow scores a giggle for calling his ex-wife “coyote ugly” to her face, but neither of them can disguise this lemon.

Neither drama nor comedy, Summer Catch is a long, slow lob of a movie that never crosses the plate.

This low-budget comedy will most likely try the patience of a paying audience with its uneven pacing, wavering tone and poor production quality.

Were it not for young star Amanda Bynes' energetic good nature in the face of drab dialogue and wooden stereotypes, What a Girl Wants might have been a career-ending movie violation rather than just an embarrassing fender-bender.

Serves as both an homage to and shameless thief of its influences. The result: a sprawling, deformed, undisciplined piece of cinema that hobbles along on weak, genre-splicing tactics.

When a movie keeps repeating its title, you know it's a stinker.

Like all B-movies (or in this case, pseudo B-movies), "Skeleton" contains sparkling moments of promise and camp performance.

Is it a political movie? Yes. A movie with strong ideas and issues? Yes. But propaganda with its heart in the right place is still propaganda, and seldom easy to watch.

Ultimately, Stateside ends up a diluted, scattered drama--less than the sum of its parts, but with an impressive cameo list.

The "Showgirls" of superhero movies. This is not a compliment. A vacuous lingerie show posing as feminism, it's the biggest movie hairball this side of "Garfield."

So dark and dirge-like are its first 85 minutes that a few uplifting minutes at the end can't dissipate the somber cloud Noel summons.

If only they didn't cannibalize their source material so much, then take an extreme rule reversal just before the end credits, they might have achieved something original, rather than just a fan-fiction derivation of George A. Romero's canon.

Knoxville, Jed Rees and Bill Chott act daffy and more impaired than their counterparts, and that never sat right with me. This may not be the equivalent of acting in blackface, but it's awfully close.

It's tempting to call traveling on Juwanna Mann, except it never goes anywhere. This film fouls out.

Commits the cardinal sin of all bad IMAX films: It favors visuals over narrative, glitter over substance.

Plagued by continuity problems, ham-fisted storytelling and a problematic voiceover by Da Brat, Civil Brand feels less like a prison movie than a prison sentence.

Limps along on a squirm-inducing fish-out-of-water formula that goes nowhere and goes there very, very slowly.

Slow and dragging, Pootie Tang is worse than a below-average sketch-to-screen Saturday Night Live film.

Not only does American Outlaws distort history, but the filmmakers have created a dull, one-dimensional pop icon out of James' complex character and legend.

At the end of 83 unmerciful minutes, audiences will be exclaiming, "Dude, I can't believe I sat through that movie!?" Stick to the trailer.

Good performances in bad movies are nothing new, but it's sad that Moore's first major cinematic outing scrapes the bottom of the melodramatic barrel.

It breaks director Billy Wilder's most important movie commandment: Thou Shall Not Bore. It's just not funny.

99 minutes of excruciating "reality."

Caruso, who showed flair in the Val Kilmer vehicle "The Salton Sea," has a penchant for the dark side. In this case, it's the plodding, predictable ZIP code of the dark side.

In a case study of how to screw up a simple, powerful revenge story, director Jonathan Hensleigh punishes audiences with an unbearably sluggish action movie that requires the word "action" to be placed in quotes.