Susan Wloszczyna

A substandard ebony-and-ivory buddy pic.

Directed by Tony Scott (Top Gun) with his usual testosterone-injected verve, Scout is never boring but hardly edifying. With a nod to the '90s, the formula does digress to allow the pals to expose their emotional wounds to each other. [13 Dec 1991, p.4D]

The opposite of entertainment, a self-satisfied soap opera from hell. But anyone itchy to see Ricci in her fleshy glory will adore her femme fatale for the Jerry Springer age, a Stanwyck stoked on steroids and SweeTarts.

To Gibson's credit, Face's essential hokiness doesn't sink in until later. Let's hope, though, the Mel Man has flushed this scarface stuff out of his system. [25 Aug 1993, p.3D]

Instead of Hitchcockian flair, there's Silver-ian excess: Women treated like meat, maimings in close-up, plot craters. [07 Oct 1991, p.4D]

Instead of hip, though, Tank Girl is prefab and purified, a calculated cult attraction. It's Danger by Mattel, and Petty, in her ripped stockings and torpedo bra, is a cyber-Barbie. This is one chick flick that at least has bite. Too bad its teeth are false. [3 Apr 1995, p.4D]

Mother Nature has always gotten the Cindy Crawford treatment from director Carroll Ballard (The Black Stallion, Never Cry Wolf). And he does right by Wind's splashy backdrop of America's Cup boat racing, as the camera bobs and weaves about like a wave-whipped buoy. Too bad there has to be a story, for Wind becomes so much hot air whenever it stays on land. [11 Sep 1992, p.8D]

Like fellow SCTV alumnus John Candy, Short has been shortchanged by the big screen. If anyone deserves a change of Luck, he does. [09 Aug 1991, p.5D]

Kasdan hasn't lost his touch at gathering terrific ensemble casts, although the performances are uneven.

PCU is less a blatant ripoff of Animal House than a fond homage. This '90s update on campus life never reaches that landmark comedy's inspired heights (or depths, as it were) of anarchy. It also could use a waggle or two of John Belushi's bushily subversive eyebrows....But actor Hart Bochner's directing debut - aided by zippy camerawork - still offers a laugh-propelled good time while tweaking political correctness gone amok at Port Chester University (PCU). [29 Apr 1994, p.5D]

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

Cradle settles for saying ''boo'' when it could have said a lot more about parental fears. [10 Jan 1992, p.4D]

It ends up choking on a never-ending stream of inept gags... A worst-case scenario of wackiness gone out of whack. [24 May 1991]

It's a dated effort.

Star Trek was never about gizmos, but about relationships - both among its crew members and with its audience. Star Trek VI more than upholds the tradition, making it a satisfying send-off for a mighty ship of foils. [6 Dec. 1991, p.1D]

Too bad Boys has more gas than wind beneath its wings. [03 Feb 1995, Pg.04.D]

Perhaps Look Who's Leaking Now would be more apropos: Dirty diapers are replaced by pooch puddles in this second sequel. [5 Nov 1993, p.4D]

As shallow as a shot glass.

Don't look for any belly laughs, but Quick Change will help you put on a happy face. [13 Jul 1990, p. 4D]

It's as disturbing a movie as you are likely to witness this year. [21Feb1997 Pg.04.D]

Besides displaying a tin ear for dialogue, King stoops to such conventions as having the sleepwalkers vulnerable to just one thing - cat scratches. [13 Apr 1992, p.6D]

At a certain point, Bean goes beyond awful to surreally awful, like the rug Burt Reynolds sports in a cameo. The last-ditch plunge into pathos does nothing to redeem the feeling. Let's hope no sequel is in the offing. The only thing worse than Bean would be a hill of Beans. [07Nov1997 Pg08.D]

While it doesn't exactly reek like week-old refuse, there's a certain stale odor about Men at Work - like a Saturday Night Live skit that goes on too long. And any film whose soundtrack is divided between reggae and classical definitely has identity problems. [27 Aug 1990]

When it comes to eloquently telling it like it is, Election puts the nation's political pundits to shame.

All about macho my-weapon-is-bigger-than-your-weapon posturing and far-fetched coincidences that slam together in an entertaining rush.

Pretentious and show-offy, the noirish drama fairly reeks of film-student overkill.

Schneider, with his cherub curls and scrawny physique, adopts a pussycat persona that engenders goodwill.

Its deadpan wit, ingenious fairy-tale premise and superbly accomplished cast will leave you feeling positively oxygenated.