Last Man Standing is such a desperately cheerless film, so dry and laconic and wrung out, that you wonder if the filmmakers ever thought that in any way it could be ... fun.

The movie seems to reinvent itself from moment to moment, darting between styles like a squirrel with too many nuts. There is one performance that works, sort of, and it is by Marisa Tomei,

Hell Night is a relentlessly lackluster example of the Dead Teenager Movie.

The best shot in this film is the first one. Not a good sign.

Too many characters, not enough plot, and a disconnect between the two stars' acting styles.

One of the most profoundly stupid movies I've ever seen.

It's a movie with so many inconsistencies, improbabilities, unanswered questions and unfinished characters that we have to suspend not only disbelief but also intelligence.

Cool World is a seriously troubled film, so ragged I doubt if even the director can explain the story line.

The Ridiculous Six is sunk by a terrible script by Sandler and Tim Herlihy and some truly cringe-inducing work by a few of the players.

An odd, well-made and thoroughly unpleasant thriller.

Winter’s Tale is a good old-fashioned train wreck of a film. This is one of those deals where all the ingredients are Grade A, but the final product is a dud.

The writers never solved the problem of incorporating the top-heavy special effects into their thin little plot.

Laughter for me was such a physical impossibility during National Lampoon's Van Wilder that had I not been pledged to sit through the film, I would have lifted myself up by my bootstraps and fled.

The filmmakers rely so heavily on cliches, on stock characters in old situations, that it's as if they never really had any confidence in their performers.

A movie about two old codgers who are nothing like people, both suffering from cancer that is nothing like cancer, and setting off on adventures that are nothing like possible.

This is a clichéd, cynical, occasionally offensive, pandering, idiotic film that redefines shameless.

Berenger, McNamara and Eleniak perform what was demanded from them within the confines of the flimsy script. The story, though, is painfully short on laughs, never building a foundation for the attachments forged by film's end. [26 Apr 1994, p.30]

A horrible experience of unbearable length, briefly punctuated by three or four amusing moments.

Leads us down the garden path of romance, only to abandon us by the compost heap of uplifting endings. And it's not even clever enough to give us the right happy ending. It gives us the wrong happy ending.

Pitch Perfect 3 feels like an encore nobody asked for.

The January Man is worth study as a film that fails to find its tone. It's all over the map. It wants to be zany but violent, satirical but slapstick, romantic but cynical. It wants some of its actors to rant and rave like amateur tragedians, and others to reach for subtle nuances. And it wants all of these things to happen at the same time.

Seventh Son moves at a fairly quick pace and has a sense of humor about itself. That doesn’t mean it’s thrilling, or funny. Just that it’s a quickly forgotten pile of junk.

The only reason I am rating this movie at one star while Little Indian, Big City received zero stars is that Jungle 2 Jungle is too mediocre to deserve zero stars. It doesn't achieve truly awful badness, but is sort of a black hole for the attention span, sending us spiraling down into nothingness.

The result is a very unfunny movie. It's routine, predictable, and dumb - real dumb.

The movie was executive produced by Quentin Tarantino. Shame on him. He intends it no doubt as another homage to grindhouse pictures, but I've seen a lot of them, and they were nowhere near this bad. "Hell's Angels on Wheels," for example: pretty good.

Unfrosted is one of the worst films of the decade so far.

For years there have been reports of the death of the Western. Now comes American Outlaws, proof that even the B Western is dead.

We have the first serious contender for Wasted Opportunity of the Decade.