It may not matter to audiences that this film...is junk. But shouldn’t it matter at least to Hawn and Schumer?

All I can say is, I certainly hope this dreary, bleary comedy doesn’t end up serving as a referendum on anything. That would be a disservice to women, not to mention movies.

I persist in believing that Melissa McCarthy is capable of starring in a movie that not only makes a scads of money but is – you know – good.

The effect is intended to be ghastly – which it certainly is – but I was equally repelled by this film’s conceit. Oppenheimer allows murderous thugs free rein to preen their atrocities, and then fobs it all off as some kind of exalted art thing. This is more than an aesthetic crime; it’s a moral crime.

I squirmed in my seat throughout Identity Thief, a colossally unfunny and misguided comedy.

It's a mash-up of blah buddy comedy and gross-out CGI monster splatter, with nary a laugh to be had.

The script is replete with howlers. My favorite, from Kitsch, after the aliens strike: "I've got a bad feeling about this." Indeed.

Sit this one out.

Dislikable movie characters don't always result in dislikable movies but that's certainly the case with Sam Levinson's Another Happy Day, a dysfunctional family meltdown movie about an impending wedding that only grows more aggravating as it unwinds.

The coarseness wouldn't be so bad if at least the steady stream of obscenities were funny.

Numbingly inane comedy.

It's as if the filmmakers were hungover from the first film and wanted to make a violent action movie instead.

Full disclosure: I have to say I did laugh during Your Highness. Twice, I think.

"The idea evolved and expanded," he (Snyder) says, "and took on a life of its own." Unfortunately, all of that life must have dribbled away as the project developed, because the resulting nonsense has none.

A suggestion to screenwriters: Stop telling stalkers that their passion isn't misplaced and that the girl will come around in the end. It is, and she won't. Just give it up.

Such a feeble excuse for an action comedy that it's already taken pride of place in my upcoming worst-movies-of-2011 list.

The script by Allan Loeb careens all over the place without ever coming to rest on anything interesting.

A movie of such stupendous uninspiration that, watching it, I didn't know whether to be affronted or hornswoggled. Movies this monumentally dreadful, after all, don't come along every day.

To see Johnny Depp and Angelina Jolie in The Tourist is like watching a chemistry experiment gone horribly wrong.

The Last Airbender is like a Care Bears movie that got waylaid in the fourth dimension. It's insufferably silly.

Maybe Hackford, and his screenwriter Mark Jacobson, were attempting to convey the dullness of vice. If so, they vastly overcorrected. But what about the dullness of the performances?

A movie that at best is irrelevant and at worst is unwatchable.

Caine acts dignified throughout, but there's no way to dignify dreck.

Critics who come out against Kick-Ass are leaving themselves open to that worst of contemporary accusations: a failure to be cool. But pretending that Kick-Ass is just another good-time comic book blowout is the greater failure.

Notable only for being a catalog of just about every kid-pic cliché ever committed to film.

Why are Steve Carell and Tina Fey wasting their time, and ours, by appearing in the miserable comedy Date Night?

At points, the film sinks below the level of competent.

Whitaker and Schreiber, both of whom are capable of brilliance, are stuck in one-dimensional roles. It’s not only the characters who have mechanical organs; the film itself is equally lifeless and cold.