William Thomas

A mirthless shot in the dark that misses the target by some distance.

Most of the people who see this will own funnier home videos of wedding disasters.

This is a very patchy affair - while some of the animated pieces work, others come across as downright insane.

Strays from the boundaries of believability a little too much to be regarding anything other than a throw-away comedy.

An embarrassing mish-mash of comedy and horror which fits neither criteria.

Here's a film consisting entirely of things you've seen before. Especially indebted to the hardly classic students-on-rampage sagas Class Of 1984 and The Principal, it even takes its title from a forgotten Amanda Donohoe DTV movie of a few years back. Furthermore, it's choppily directed by Robert Manel (School Ties) and toplined by the still-in-decline Tom Berenger.

A worthy diversion for the very young, but against their more venerable stablemates - notably DuckTales - The Rescuers's identification/memorableness factor remains second division.

Spader and Cusack go through the motions as political sparring partners in this coming of age drama.

Ultimately lost in it's own contrivances, Big Business still manages a few laughs thanks to it's big name leading lady.

Little atmosphere and no surprises.

Life stinks, Brooks' character stinks and the film, after all the Brooks magic in the past, stinks.

An all-star lineup with some kookie moments, but a bit limp overall.

There's no escaping the teen angst or, for that matter, Araki's thumping message with the angry director managing to slip the odd political curve-ball into proceedings as if he's been watching too many Oliver Stone movies.

It’s hard to remember that this extremely unexceptional film was a major hit back in the 70s.

Two actors have wasted their considerable talents on this hapless comedy. With a flawed plot and far too few jokes, it's understandable why this isn't a particularly memorable film and just as well it's disappeared without trace.

Driven by cliches and almost completely ignoring the psychological growth of the children coping with the loss of their parents, it doesn't take long for this to descent into meaningless schlock.

Lacking the bite of "Attack The Block," Stiller and co. are happy to fall back on their usual shtick, with director Schaffer providing barely enough juice to power the laughs.

Slow, ponderous and as shallow as it thinks it is deep, lifted only by an impressive opening and fine work from Damon and Howard.

Unfortunately shallow characterisation, a script so laid-back you can almost hear it snoring and the occasional outburst of hokey dialogue lead to a movie a good deal less charming than it thinks it is.

One for fans only.

It’s a film that doesn’t so much invite you to switch off your brain as take it out and dump it in the nearest popcorn box.

Not fractionally as clever or as fast-paced as the television series upon which it's based.

Less a hangover of a sequel than a satisfying belch to rid the world of the original.

Despite winning turns by Lewis and an on-form Goldblum, the laughs are in short supply.

Hardly a classic given the talents of Carell, Rudd and Roach at his best. It bungles utilising plenty of talent in a lightweight comedy effort that brings little fresh to the table.

Even the excellent Gong has a tough time trying to twist her character into a tragic heroine, while the utter despair to which sympathetic characters are condemned suggests a significant point in Zhang's career, but does nothing to relieve the viewer's ennui.

The trouble with spoofing soap opera is that its dramatically deranged conventions - dead characters resurrected, hitherto unknown progeny claiming birthrights and bedrooms, characters metamorphosed into new actors - are already so absurd they are hard to send up any further.

Wildly uneven, but funny in a bittersweet tittery sort of way in places.

Even worse than it sounds.

Braindead and done to death, this somehow remains a relatively fun ride.

How did such a dream project on paper turn out so wrong. It should remain one of the great mysteries of cinema. The less said about this one, the better. For Spielberg completists only.

Decent premises and the promise of Billy Crystal pale in a film that fronts up to, then whimpers away from, the prospect of leaping out of its genre's boundaries.

It's not nearly exciting enough and at an hour and twenty minutes is overlong for animation fans, yet by virtue of the fact it's a cartoon, it presents itself as too childish for older live action devotees.

Though well directed, Thewlis and Di Caprio simply do not gel (John Malkovich and River Phoenix were the original cast choices), the latter is too hyperactive in delivery, the former too static in expression.

In flashback, we see the pair's friendship develop through their childhood, but despite the film's heavily symbolic tone, little is revealed about either of the characters or indeed the Vietnam War.

Almost a guilty pleasure. But not quite.

The big screen was where none of them had gone before, and you can tell.

A sci-fi horror dimmer than the dark side of the moon.

There is some fun to be had if you're in an undemanding frame of mind.

Take an uncharismatic leading man (Bill Campbell), an obviously pre-Oscar Jennifer Connelly, a scene-chewing Timothy Dalton and action that doesn't start until halfway through the film and what you have is one of 1991's more disappointing summer flicks.

Against the odds of a feeble script and uninspired direction the duo do, in fact, grow on you, and there are a smattering of silly laughs, most notably a sequence involving a large road kill stashed in the back seat.

What could have been an effective excoriation of US drug policy and a proper look at the violence inherent in the trade is wasted on a simplistic thriller that offers very little, especially given who is behind the camera. Sorry if that harshes anyone's buzz.

Reynolds was coasting at this point of his career, with zero risk-taking it ends up as a soulless, below-average movie.

A self-consciously grubby and silly slasher that'll be lapped up by gorehounds, but which really belongs on the rental shelves.

High hopes of magic from the Gondry-Rogen pairing are dashed. Some neat touches aside, this isn't so much eternal sunshine, more superbad.

Always a spoof rather than a homage, this comedy soon realises there's only so many laughs you can plunder from the heavy premise and the repetitive carriages.

Possibly not the worst animated feature the House Of Mouse has produced, but certainly stumbling around the darker recesses of the Disney vault.

Even while laughing at lines like, “Black people don’t do bungee-jumping, it’s too much like lynching,” you’re still left thinking that the funniest man in the building was not actually in front of the camera.

A totally unneeded sequel which does nothing whatsoever for the legacy of the original tale.

You should feel sorry for the memory of Julia - whose swansong this is - but actually it's Van Damme who commands sympathy.

The world can only hope The Swamp Thing's abode is now bulldozered and turned into a shopping mall.

Dire, B-movie cheese throughout, this gives no clue that Pitt - or anyone else involved - could ever have a career in Hollywood.

An obsequious, ring-kissing portrait of the current US administration, dressed in gauche, glossy reality-TV clothing. And yet somehow still better than Rush Hour 3.

Predictably awful fourth installment.

About as funny as contracting cancer.

The first film to be based on a line of toys, this might not be the last, but it'd take something awful to replace it as the worst.

An unredeemable failure on all levels, other than living up to our expectations.

Dodgy on every level.

However you dress it up, laughs where there should be frights is patently piss poor.

Pretty terrible sequel in every respect.

Like, so lame.

Energetically humourless, with travelogue and circus footage inserted between the dog-piss and big boob jokes.