As arduous to watch as your neighbor’s poorly focused vacation slides.

Kaplan's lustily awful film is to be avoided if at all possible, and if not, well, don't say I didn't warn you.

Near-unwatchable romantic melodrama.

Even the should-have-been-triumphant revelation of the Boogeyman arrives as a CGI letdown of epic proportions.

Hitman: Agent 47 is a film that bears nothing but a passing resemblance to the game that spawned it, but that shouldn’t surprise anyone, as it’s all just a cash grab, anyway. No choice but to wash, rinse, repeat: cha-ching.

A spectacular misfire – is a 180 from Locke’s lean brilliance, overstuffed with plot complications, overheated with bad acting and maudlin sentiment.

Yearning to be a tale of familial abuse and social oppression finally overcome by personal triumphant transcendence through community and love, the film is instead the plainest of generic pop songs.

The film, however, is short on genuine scares and ingenuity.

It's an obvious nod to "Rock 'n' Roll High School" that mostly serves as a grim reminder of how far comedies about the education system have fallen.

Movies like The Vatican Tapes are by nature sloppy and derivative, seeking to evoke a thrill that’s long gone.

Eminently resistible, an unclassifiable cinematic leftover best left untasted.

It keeps you off balance, all right, but not enough to obscure the sad fact that Ghosts of Mars is a muddled, derivative disaster straight on through.

Neither very scary nor very interesting, Godsend is an unresurrectable muddle.

Not to be glib but, obviously, believers will feel reaffirmed, and those looking to again enjoy and be enriched by the miraculous life and greatest sacrifice of Jesus will be rewarded. More casual viewers will find themselves glazing over from the obviousness of it all.

Furry Vengeance would be innocuous enough if only it didn't look as though no effort was made to expand the images past the storyboard phase.

It’s a shame when a movie brings together so many underutilized thespians of color – even Ajay Naidu of "Office Space" is in here someplace – and gives them absolutely nothing to do.

Adults may have a hard time swallowing this toothless tale of PG-rated bloodsuckers, but kids may relate better to its lessons.

This is exactly the sort of film I wasn't expecting from either Gorak or his producers. In many too-obvious ways this is just a formulaic riff on Spielberg's "War of the Worlds."

You could drive an 18-wheeler through the substantial number of plot holes in Paranoia.

Simply a lousy film from start to finish.

R.I.P.D. never creates a believable universe, interesting action sequences, or dynamic characters. It’s a paint-by-numbers approach in which the film’s comedy and drama both fall flat.

It’s as deadly dull as the blunt end of a rifle.

Despite a few scattered moments of visceral excitement, the only thing truly frightening about the oh-so-ominously titled Fear is how so many talented people came to be involved in so inane a project.

A smallish cast peppered with a pair of bullish performances by both Platt and the lesser-known Gleeson. The two spark some chemistry between them, which is more than can be said for Pullman and Fonda's moribund performances.

Colombiana is one long megayawn; I'd have garnered more titillating thrills rewatching freckle-faced Russkie sexbomb Natalya Rudakova strut her leggy, sassy stuff in Megaton and Besson's "Transporter 3."

The movie is as lifeless as a mannequin until Ferrell appears near the end as the absurdly coiffed villain Jacobim Mugatu.

Overlong, overplotted, and pocked with improbabilities.

Its star, who injected such life into the surprisingly unformulaic "Drumline," is adrift in a sea of cop-movie clichés, and Siega's party-to-go direction hews more closely to his music-video beginnings than to his critically noted "Pretty Persuasion."