Stephen Whitty

The Assignment is a movie about a heartless assassin, a mad doctor and a forced surgery. But it’s the movie that should be sued for malpractice.

The Dark Tower is simply dim.

Hugely expensive and extravagantly stupid, Alice Through the Looking Glass is just one more silly Hollywood mashup, an innocent fantasy morphed into a noisy would-be blockbuster.

Sure it’s got big, blurry action scenes, a plane crash, and an army of dusty, mindless zombies. But I think some of them may have been the screenwriters, because the movie’s practically lifeless.

The only thing that's revolting is how dull the series has gotten.

Pretty as Bratt and Munn are, they're not distracting enough to cover up for the screaming Hart and grating Jeong, who seem to be in a race to see who can play a more annoying character. In the end, it's a tie — they both win.

While the first "Independence Day" was genuinely big, dumb fun, its sequel only manages to be a bigger, dumber bore.

Badly cast, broadly directed, and hampered by a book that hasn’t aged well since the musical’s 1981 West End debut, it’s hard to imagine just who this film’s target audience is.

There are no surprises, and the addition of a supposedly mysterious killer fails to add any mystery.

But the real problem is that the picture feels padded. There are endless, and pointless, scenes of radio hosts debating the vigilante violence. And the wildly mismatched shoot-outs — every criminal Kersey goes up against is slow, stupid and a lousy shot — waters down the thrills.

Got your holiday turkey yet? Well, don't worry, Diane Keaton and John Goodman have one waiting for you at the movie theater.

It’s not a great movie, but it’s a good reminder of why Rockwell’s admirers have happily stuck with him for decades.

Remember “Olympus Has Fallen”? This one is worse.

This Simone film hits all the wrong notes early. What is it trying to say about this enraged, iconic singer? Why does it want to say it? Since screenwriter Cynthia Mort apparently never asked those questions, director Cynthia Mort can't offer any answers.

The first-time filmmakers have little idea of pace, or imagery. Flatly lit, squarely staged, the scenes just plod on.

Director Alex Proyas’ movie feels like a bad video game.

This isn't a movie, it's a rapsheet, a series of assaults committed against its cast and its viewers.

Admittedly, Travolta, who produced, is sure having fun. What ham wouldn’t? Chewing on the scenery like it was a meatball hero, he swaggers around in shiny suits and silver wigs, barking orders.

This movie has almost nothing redeeming. And it’s flat out gross.