The residents of Beauty Shop never quite gel. Instead of camaraderie, the feeling is one of bare tolerance.

Bad Company is about an undercover brother, but it will never be confused with "Undercover Brother."

Lackluster in narrative and in no way original or innovative, the movie is pretty much generic Disney, a film about universal brotherhood stitched together from parts that worked better in other films.

Kids, except for the very youngest, are going to be bored.

Little more than an electronic press kit for the band, produced for the benefit of its fans.

Crush is the kind of movie that gives friendship a bad name.

Unfortunately, nothing in it rings with the faintest tinkle of truth.

8 Women would probably be a looser, giddier salute to show-biz ideas of femininity if it were performed by eight drag queens.

Catwoman is a mess, there's really no other way to describe it... It doesn't work as high art, and it's too ponderous to be truly high camp. As a fashion shoot for the pin-up crowd, however, it's the cat's meow.

Maybe this is a psychological thriller after all: Every thinking member of the audience will be driven insane.

Sheila Bernette, as an aged pickpocket, is less a stereotype than an escapee from some provincial British comedy of the early 1950s. But she steals necklaces and knickknacks with such finesse and gusto that she also steals the movie.

If it worked, The Fast and the Furious would put viewers in the same position as the policeman protagonist, attracted to speed but appalled by crime. Instead it sentences you to an hour and a half in a high-decibel limbo.

The serial-killer thriller of the week, should have gotten a life of its own instead of trying to steal it from Michael Pye's novel of the same name and several other movies.

Most of the film is one big blooper reel. There's not enough of a gap between the rejects and the finished movie.

Starts out mixing social burlesques and melodrama and ends up one more failed thriller about men behaving badly - and stupidly.

Two of the most insistently unlikable movie creations to afflict audiences in some time, a pair of self-obsessed anti-romanticists who spend some two decades doing stupid things at each other's behest. They also whine a lot.

There's less here than meets the eye, not to mention the ear, nose, tongue and fingertip.

The story is without an original thought, the characters little more than caricatures (unappealing ones, at that) and the filmmaking so uninspired that it's hard to imagine anyone embracing it with anything more than a shrug and a wonder why they didn't wait to catch it on TV.

17 Again errs not only by covering such well-trod ground, but also by doing so through a main character - played by a game but ill-served Zac Efron - who's about as dense as they come.

Misfires on nearly every possible level.

Ends up neither fish nor fowl. It's a misanthrope's "E.T."

What kills Max Payne is that the characters think and feel in slow motion. Half the time, mentally, they're just running in place.

The low points in this movie aren't just catastrophic: they're bewildering.

In this movie, when the honeymoon is over it's really over.

To his (Snipes) credit, there are few other stars who could breathe a degree of credibility into a film like The Art of War.

Sttrictly movie-of-the-week stuff. And not very good stuff, at that.

A mistaken message is a price a filmmaker pays when he tries to load weighty themes like the cycle of violence on an overgrown boy who scoots around on a bicycle.

At some point the foul language, lascivious sight gags, references to sex toys, violence against animals and cruelty toward children simply ceases to be funny.