Soren Andersen

Watch this movie and you might die, of boredom.

You expect lots of fight scenes in a Wick movie, and Ballerina certainly delivers on that score. Overdelivers, in fact. It’s one damn dust-up after another.

By the end, it’s made glaringly obvious that the people who made Madame Web intended it to be the prelude to sequels featuring the three proto Spider-Women. Spare us.

In space, everyone can hear you yawn.

“The Last Dance” brings nothing new to the series. In fact, it brings less than the previous two movies

Mortal Engines hasn’t much in the way of originality, other than its rolling city, to distinguish it from other, better post-apocalyptic tales.

The nonstop silliness of this picture leaves one choking on stifled laughter.

Greetings from Moldova. Where surly locals stare sullenly at stupid strangers. Where the traditional regional greeting extended to said strangers is a hatchet in the forehead.

It seems director James Wan had one overarching goal in making “Aquaman.” His prime directive? Crush the audience into submission.

Mark this one down as a sequel that should never have been made.

Exposure to Alvin and the Chipmunks: The Road Chip may result in the dislocation of eyeballs in viewers over the age of 7 due to uncontrollable rolling of the eyes at the sight of the idiotic antics committed on screen. To avoid eye strain, which is to say, eye sprain, avoid this movie at all costs.

Offering only an atmosphere of deepening gloom and a premise of utter hopelessness, Man Down is like movie antimatter: It repels interest.

What say we tiptoe quietly away and pretend this movie never happened?

It’s all very bizarrely, pointlessly complicated.

Screeching, screaming, bouncing around the galaxy. Insufferable. And seemingly interminable.

With scenes of epic destruction uncorked with numbing frequency, the picture drags. It’s two hours and 10 minutes long and you feel every last second.

Imagine the worst costume epic imaginable. Imagine no more. It exists.

As terrible as it is — and make no mistake, Moonfall is epically awful — it is also undeniably entertaining. A guilty pleasure, if you will. See it on the biggest screen you can. It’s a, er, riot.

Paula Patton, playing a half-orc, half-human female warrior, is the most sympathetic character and actually gives something approaching a fully fledged performance, but for the rest of it … ugliness as far as the eye can see.

What a pestilential little picture is Fist Fight.

Gringo has no spark, no fizz. Its scenes sag like overstretched taffy. Flavorless taffy.

There is absolutely nothing new under the many suns in Besson’s universe. This is a voyage not worth taking.

The first creature feature of the new decade is here, and boy is it dumb.

All things considered, this pitifully plotted Belgian-French production represents the nadir of animated movies released so far this year, a farrago of frantic action and mindless cacophony.

The Phoenix Incident is an indigestible mess.

A colossal waste of time and the moviegoer’s dollars. That’s the bottom line of Daddy’s Home 2.

Director Corin Hardy lards on the frights so relentlessly that the moments don’t build to any sort of sustained narrative momentum.

xXx: Return of Xander Cage is the movie equivalent of cotton candy: all empty calories. Excessive consumption of this product is likely to give a body the queasies.