Susan Wloszczyna

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

As funny as it can be, this underdawg comedy isn't much more than Sandler's golf-oriented "Happy Gilmore" with a Cajun accent. [6 November 1998, p. 10E]

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]

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

Michael Chiklis doesn’t get to inject nearly enough humor as Coach Lad’s more demonstrative assistant.

The story is about as good as the average TV cop drama. But here actions speak far louder than words, and Seagal is quite eloquent. Rather than weapons, he prefers a hands-on approach to his enemies. Twisted limbs are his specialty. [12 Feb 1990, p.2D]

Nichols usually can lure A-list casts to even C-grade projects, and this is no exception.

The main problem of Monster Trucks is how content it is to take its sweet time before shifting into high-action gear.

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?

This joyless coming-of-age travelogue is such a downer that not even breathtaking locales can provide a lift.

In its third go-round, the Lethal Weapon arsenal is running out of ammunition. [15 May 1992]

Instead of scoring belly laughs, there's a run on randy guy banter between Duchovny and Jones.

The Power of One plays like a plot-heavy South African fairy tale with one too many big, bad wolves. [27 March 1992, p.4D]

Final is a bad-line hoot-a-rama. Gere after aiding an Hispanic criminal: ''If Pepe is safe, then we are all safe.'' Basinger on her marriage: ''We share an apartment - emphasis on apart.'' But every joke needs a punchline. Alas, the finale of Final Analysis - the worst case of Vertigo sickness since Mel Brooks' High Anxiety - is just punch-drunk. [7 Feb 1992, p.5D]

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

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.

Wildly uneven collage of effects and live action is no Disney-bland vision of dreams gone bonkers. There's enough Freudian material to reupholster a thousand therapy couches.

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

Either you will weep uncontrollably during the final 10 minutes or so of this bittersweet fable...or the urge to gag will be overwhelming.

Ernest Goes to Jail is no yuk-a-minute - it's more a yuk-a-half-hour. [06 Apr 1990, p.4D]