Susan Wloszczyna

As movie-going experiences go, there is nothing worse than to sit through what purports to be a comedy and never have a reason to engage your laugh reflex. Exhibit A: The gender-switch remake of the 1987 screwball farce, "Overboard."

After sitting through this rather unpolished production as it lightheartedly bumbles its way around a serious subject, I mostly wished that I could un-see it. To say that Half Magic, in which Graham also stars, is half-baked would be kind.

Still, there is more pleasure to be had in the dwindling returns of CMT's “Nashville” than in this country soap-opera.

My most basic litmus test for whether a comedy is working is whether it makes me laugh. I groaned, maybe, but no chuckles emanated from me or from my lone fellow patron.

Yes, the casual-chic interior designs shine as much as her mom’s ever did. But I never really felt at home with Home Again.

Let’s look on the bright side. The running time is barely 90 minutes. And there are but three fairly amusing characters who save this inferior attempt at family entertainment, at least for me.

One doesn’t need perfect vision to quickly surmise that this sudsy affair among Manhattan swells is a glorified Hallmark Channel melodrama.

For far too long, nothing especially creepy or unsettling happens on screen.

How to Be a Latin Lover all too quickly devolves into a nearly two-hour slog showcasing Mexican comedy superstar Eugenio Derbez’s attempt to seduce U.S. audiences with a cheesy bilingual spoof of an ethnic stereotype long past its expiration date.

I don’t think I've witnessed a film this year that managed to so completely and utterly collapse into crass garbage in its last few minutes while abusing what little good will it has.

While the intentions behind Priceless might be honorable, the results are much less so.

Let’s just say I have been to wakes that have elicited more laughs.

With a few, rare exceptions, the attempts at humor in “Suicide Squad” land with a thud—that is, if you can hear such a sound over the deafening din of gunfire and the bombastic score.

The Angry Birds Movie isn’t a total turkey. The animation itself is OK and I did laugh out loud once.

As tedious as much of this sounds, an odd thing happened around “Allegiant’s” midway point. The fairly packed audience started vocally reacting “Rocky Horror”-style to some of the more overtly melodramatic turns with “oohs," “ahhs” and even laughter.

Rather than presenting something akin to the heady youthful cravings of Leonardo DiCaprio and Claire Danes as contemporary versions of Romeo and Juliet, the equally tragic Marguerite & Julien often feels more like a version of Richie and Margot in Wes Anderson’s “The Royal Tenenbaums” crossed with the pre-teen runaways from “Moonrise Kingdom,” but minus the humor and insight.

But what might seem innocent enough on the written page is often downright silly if insulting on the big screen.

One of the loudest laughs arrives when we get to enjoy a scowling James re-imagined as a game character. Points for greater diversity in the cast as well, but, if there is a second sequel in the offing, please allow the women to be more than the sum of their body parts.

I kept thinking one thing during most of Don Verdean: What would Christopher Guest do with his company of ace ad-libbers with such material? And the answer suddenly came to me — probably toss it in the trash and start all over again.

It fails to provide the sorts of human inter-connections and deep revelations for which director Mitch Davis seems to be striving.

Although a surprising number of plot machinations from the original film remain fully intact, usually accounting for anything that seems remotely clever, what is missing is the type of hold-your-breath tension provided by good thrillers.

The more curdled-than-cuddly holiday film already had offended this former copy editor even before I entered the theater. Its crime? The lack of punctuation in its name.

To begin with, the very premise feels off. Peter Pan isn’t a superhero and doesn’t really need an origin story, especially one that opens at a London orphanage for boys during the Blitz and borrows heavily from the “Oliver Twist” handbook.

If this all sounds rather dull, that is because it is.

The story ends up being one wrong turn after another. A GPS hasn’t been invented that could get this plot-hole-riddled script back on track.

The two-hour-plus “Ride,” No. 10 in the series, at least offers a few intriguing new variations on the usual Sparks formula of pretty bland people falling in love against a backdrop of verdantly green landscapes most often located in coastal North Carolina.

Given Russell’s involvement and a fairly solid cast that includes Jake Gyllenhaal and Catherine Keener, just how awful could it be? Really awful. Unwatchably awful. As in, “Give it the Razzie now and be done with it” awful.

A comedy with no laughs. A drama disconnected from any known reality. It’s tempting to diagnose Are You Here with schizophrenic genre disorder.

What is harder to achieve than building a hospital? Producing a realistic movie about coping with grief by helping others – at least for the filmmakers behind Louder Than Words.

All in all, Very Good Girls is a very bad excuse to subject those of us who have enjoyed Fanning ever since 2001’s "I Am Sam" to seeing her flash her bare fanny, fondle herself provocatively and cavort in her underwear for no dramatic purpose. Yes, she should be allowed to grow up onscreen. But without a story that justifies it, it just feels sad and desperate.

This is one of those movies that parents will have to ask themselves if they love their child enough to sit through it. At least "The Nut Job" is off the hook as the worst indie-made animated feature of the year.

Rarely do I find a movie that is so appalling if not outright insulting to all of humanity (and particularly, in this case, womankind) that it gives me a stomach ache.

At least it's admirable that Donohue manages to do almost all his shooting with either web cams, phone cams or surveillance cameras. But that does not translate into an entirely enjoyable viewing experience. Plus, there are almost no real shocks or scares to rattle you out of the stupor that inevitably develops from observing someone else fiddle with their laptop for much of the running time.

While Lutz might possess the beefcake to fill out his chest armor, he lacks the acting chops to make us much care about the fate of his gleaming hero who looks as if he just stepped out of a Beverly Hills salon.

The balcony scene takes a tumble. This is movie's greatest disappointment. Really, if you can't get this right, then why even do Romeo and Juliet?

More moronic than demonic. [20 Aug 1990]

Under the guise of delivering one of the most overworked of messages - adults are dolts, kids rule - North fails such basics as a compelling story, fleshed-out characters and a brisk, bright pace. [22 Jul 1994, p.5D]

But Problem Child's biggest problem is its young star, 8-year-old Michael Oliver. You tend to take such natural child actors as Dick Tracy's Charlie Korsmo for granted until one comes along who should be delivering newspapers instead of movie lines. [30 July 1990]

It settles for the recycled emotions of the past despite the fact "Schindler's List" has forever made such treatment shamefully passe. [18Apr1997 Pg.03.D]

Fatally dreadful. This umpteenth parody flick of the year moves sooooooo slowly, it may be the first movie candidate for a pacemaker. The Naked Guns and the Hot Shots may not be Noel Coward cocktail parties. But those films toss out so many joke grenades, a few are bound to set off laughs. Not director Carl Reiner's latest. He takes the same five gags and grinds them into the ground like old cigarettes. Or allows each bit to drag on and on like the toilet paper that keeps sticking to femme fatale Sean Young's killer pumps. [29 Oct 1993, p.4D]

t's far too soon for an actress as vital as Jessica Lange to stoop to Bette Davis-Joan Crawford horror-hag histrionics. [6 Mar 1998, pg.04D]

The transition from Hanna-Barbera animation to manic-barbaric live action falls flatter than a granite slab, from the first of many deadly stone-age wordplays - "Steven Spielrock Presents" - to the gross-out shots of dirty tootsies. [27 May 1994 Pg. 01.D]

As a condescening moron who natters on non-stop in this simplistic comedy, Elliott doesn't just wear out his welcome, he nukes it. [14 Jan 1994]

The premise was a yummy one in the Mexican hit "Like Water for Chocolate," but it's best to pack Tums in case of heartburn this time around. [5 February 1999, Life, p.11E]

Pytka may know how to push fizzy water, but he certainly can't make a punch line sparkle. [21 Aug 1989]

As a director, Seagal isn't much on transition scenes. That would cut into the time devoted to knives slicing through heads. [21 Feb 1994, p.4D]

Before you go off to see The Wizard with your own video whiz kid, consider visiting an arcade instead. Your entertainment dollar would be much better spent on Double Dragon. [15 Dec 1989, p.6D]

Just like its albino-like villains, this Village is a pale imitation. [28 Apr 1995, p.3D]

Bless me, Father, for I actually laughed once during this gosh-awful spinoff...about as funny as an oozing fever blister.

Here's ringside entertainment for those who think TV wrestling is too intellectual and restrained.

All the Drano in the world couldn't fix what's clogging the works in Super Mario Bros. [1 June 1993, p.6D]

Not since Andy Kaufman's reign of terror has a supposed funnyman been so self-indulgently persistent in testing a fan's patience.

Unless you have a craving to watch a sluggish Ski-Doo race or want to admire Chase dressed as a hula dancer, consider this the cinematic equivalent of yellow snow.

There's probably a fall-out-of-your-seat, laugh-your-head-off comedy to be made about house guests. Meanwhile, the maddeningly mediocre Madhouse will have to do. [16 Feb 1990, p.4D]

The concept is so hypocritical, it's like Britney Spears calling Christina Aguilera underdressed and overexposed.

The bad-taste murder farce is just an excuse for a bunch of actors to go slumming and ride about in - ha, ha - Yugos.

As late Christmas presents go, Reindeer Games is best left unwrapped.

Douglas prances and chants with crimson-haired tribesmen who look like they were styled by Dennis Rodman. He talks a good game. (Why does he kill? "Because I've got a gift.") But he is trapped by the same undernourished script as the rest of the cast. Secondary characters are fleshed out so little, they should simply wear labels that say "kitty snacks." [11 Oct 1996]

But even fans of the original directed by scare-fare king David Cronenberg won't get much of a buzz from this Son of the Fly sequel. It seems that wit and originality are traits that skip a generation. [13 Feb 1989, p.4D]

But those looking for enlightenment on this boring road trip better bring along a flashlight. The sex change merely allows Erika Eleniak, who won more respect from her critters as Elly May in The Beverly Hillbillies than she does from the male animals here, to doff her duds as often as she tries to escape. Running tampon gags are never a good sign. [26 Apr 1994, p.8D]

What once was spontaneous and clever now has the stench (in Conehead-speak) of rotten chicken embryos. [23 July 1993, p.5D]

Not even scaremeister director Wes Craven can awaken this story. Murphy's pale efforts are enough to make one fondly recall Blacula. Now that was one sucker who knew how to make a film that didn't. [27 Oct 1995, p.4D]

After a half-hour or so, your clicker finger will be itching. Too bad you can't zap around the other multiplex screens. [17 Aug 1992, p.4D]

At least the original never stooped to overly graphic violence. This time, the filmmakers drench the toy-factory finale with gore galore. [09 Nov 1990, p.4D]

This is a noisy, sadistic and just plain dull rendering of a too-often-told tale about a mysterious drifter who rides into a lawless outpost and pits rival gangs against each other. The plot, based on Akira Kurosawa's samurai classic Yojimbo, isn't so much dusted off by writer/director Walter Hill (Wild Bill) as propped up. [20 Sep 1996]

When it comes to being brainless, The Skulls is at the head of the class.

The Rookie is Clint Eastwood's ultimate cops 'n' robbers fantasy, where all the cars are sex machines, all the guns shoot loud and hard, and real men say things like, ''Wanna guarantee? Buy a toaster.'' [07 Dec 1990, p.4D]

First-time director/writer Richard Stanley hammers together chunks from films past to form a clunky horror show that never rises to the level of its source material. [14 Sep 1990, p.4D]

For all its faults, Justice is never boring. But it's such a battering experience, you may find yourself checking your own body for bruises before leaving the theater. [16 Apr 1991, p.6D]

The Wal-Mart of cinematic soap operas. One-stop shopping for your emotional movie needs.

Vile, violent and less hip than it thinks it is.

Mannequin Two desperately wants to be magical. But the spell it casts is one of idiocy. [21 May 1991, p.4D]

Rain pours, snow flies, the sky is cloudy all day. Every corridor is steeped in shadow. But the artful atmosphere goes to waste as Robinson (best known for the quirky Withnail & I) skimps on character, drags out the action and stacks up overly convenient clues like dirty dishes. [6 Nov 1992, p.8D]

Chuck rhymes with bucks - the only possible reason to revive this poor excuse for a horror villain in Child's Play 3. [03 Sep 1991, p.5D]

Not just stupid, but brain dead.

Can't scare up a decent plot.

A glossy wisp of a cautionary tale.

Except for a brief episode in which singer Chris Isaak and Kiefer Sutherland make like an FBI Rocky and Bullwinkle, this is a morbidly joyless affair. You'll feel as drained as one of Cooper's mugs of joe watching homecoming queen Laura drown in a whirlpool of sex and drugs. [31 Aug 1992]

Predator 2 won't be the worst turkey at theaters this Thanksgiving. But it certainly gobbles loud and often enough. Its makers - whose previous smash-crash hash includes 48 HRS., Die Hard and both Lethal Weapons - go to great lengths to camouflage this bird with ultra-violent dressing. The plot is one bloody showdown after another, on rooftops or in subway cars. [21 Nov 1990, p.2D]

If they were going to make a movie with Phillips about a dead guy who comes back to life, why didn't they just make La Bamba II? [05 Apr 1990, p.6D]

Anemic. [30 October 1998, p.8E]

Writer/producer John "Home Alone" Hughes, the Marquis de Sade of kidcom, and director Les Mayfield manage to squeeze the very bounce out of what should have been a can't-miss update. [26Nov1997 Pg09.D]

This would-be tribute to youthful anarchy fails the junior-high acid test: Will my parents hate it? Dead is too dead on arrival to inspire much emotion either way. [07 June 1991, p.5D]

Deeply crude as an overused latrine and defiantly non-P.C., the best you can say about the aptly titled Major Payne is that it's somewhat more tolerable than star Damon Wayans' last fumbled effort, the also well-named Blankman. [24 March 1995, p.8D]

One should approach Hocus Pocus as if it were one of those households that plunk toothbrushes instead of Snickers into your goody bag. Skip it.

If "You've Got Mail" jangled your nerves with its Starbucks-fueled cuteness, here's a romance that goes down like instant decaf. [15 January 1999, Life, p.18E]

With only momentary grandmaster flashes of brainless fun, too much of CB4 belongs in the hip-hopper. [12 Mar 1993, p.8D]

Sandler mugs through a back-to-school daze. [13 February 1995, p.D1]

Eugene Levy should be stopped before he directs again. [9 March 1992, p.4D]

It's dreadful, despite a solid cast that includes art-house heartthrob Ewan McGregor, Nick Nolte, Patricia Arquette and Josh Brolin. [17 Apr 1998]

Oscar is a marathon of running gags, but few cross the finish line. [26 Apr 1991, p.4D]

It doesn't take a world-class navigator to figure out that any movie with Martin Short in the straight role and Kurt Russell in the funny role is already way off course. Captain Ron is about as amusing as an anchor dropped on your foot. [21 Sep 1992, p.5D]

Ellen Barkin is an itchy-twitchy stitch in Switch. As a murdered Casanova who comes back to life as a blond bombshell, she's a physical-comedy sensation on par with Steve Martin in All of Me. But that's only 15 minutes of laugh-worthy material. The rest of Switch is a big turnoff. [10 May 1991, p.2D]

Rascals is as painful as a grade-school play without your kid in it. The end-credit outtakes at least indicate Spheeris suffered through it as well. [05 Aug 1994, p.4D]

Besides the inevitable devious government types, there are anemic subplots about a fanatical priest and an abused mother and child. Let's see. This is your brain: MMMMMMMMM. This is your brain watching The Lawnmower Man: ZZZZZZZZZ. [6 Mar 1992, p.4D]

Making matters worse is the number of clips from old scary movies that pop up, including quintessential Dracula turns by Bela Lugosi and Christopher Lee. They only serve to mock Landis' pale efforts. One thing's for sure - Innocent Blood won't become immortal. [25 Sept 1992, p.5D]

This warm-weather variation on the original, once again set in a small Minnesota town, is in dire need of Geritol. Or a dose of ginseng. Or Ex-Lax. Anything to get things moving faster than this turgid replay. [22 Dec 1995, p.3D]

Disappointingly limp. [16 Oct 1992, p.7D]