Robert Koehler

Lacks the comic style or abandon to make its cynical turn on male-female relationships anything more than a short-lived stunt.

Has the stench less of rotting flesh than the whiff of a thoughtless quickie.

Though Muniz and Bynes make a somewhat likable team, their funniest skills are dampened by the material's insistent stupidity.

Pity the children for whom this is their intro to the world of Grimm, for while pic stays to basic outline of the original story in opening and closing sections, the large middle is stuffed with badly staged slapstick and painful stabs at hip dialogue in an arch attempt to cater to modern kids.

A collection of sentimental and emotional moments in search of a movie.

Even dumb farce has to be built on logic, but that crumbles in the face of a set of tired routines playing off of stock types.

Fires nothing but blanks.

The question isn't where is the love but where are the laughs?

Director David Zucker, a master of whacked-out visual comedy during his “Airplane!” era, drops the ball here.

A sign that the Sandler comedy empire is expanding and reaching new depths of pure gross-out stupidity.

Will greatly peeve many hardcore fans.

Amateurish, undramatic and bereft of any sense of pacing.

A lineup of comic actors running on empty long before the dust settles.

The proper mix is never found. Ill-conceived and expensive project that winds up looking like a bunch of talented thesps slumming it.

A comedy in the last century and a drama in the new one. At least, that's the dumbfounding impression left by writer-director Oliver Parker's utterly miscalculated film adaptation of Wilde's play.

Midnight moviegoers aren't so desperate that they will opt for such trailer trash.

A poorer film than the paltry original even as it strikes a self-consciously clever pose.

A shoddy vehicle for Jamie Foxx to ride into the summer season on.

A horror movie without horror, a spook pic without spookiness and a metaphysical drama without the slightest spiritual tug, Soul Survivors virtually dwindles away on the screen.

Overall aroma of movie junk food.

Patently absurd in both the details and larger aspects, the ultraserious pic is undermined by poor casting.

Perhaps thinking he had a farce to play with, Flender encourages tons of mugging; by overplaying what should be underplayed, helmer and cast deliver a fatal stab to the intended comedy-horror.

In its overwhelmingly artificial depiction of the street gangs that ruled Brooklyn's mean streets in the 1950s, Deuces Wild draws from a phony deck.

An especially insipid example of the Hollywood message movie.

Combines the most rudimentary of Catholic-inspired good vs. evil plots with visual effects that would barely pass muster in episodic TV.

Makes little impression and is sure to leave few memories for a teen.

Gruff and downright smelly, especially when star David Arquette is forced at one point to flop around in a pile of doggy doo.

There's nothing in genredom quite so unhinged as the badly made psycho-thriller, and long before it's over, The Glass House collapses from wretched design and execution.