The whole movie feels like an overlong Kickstarter set up for a The Disaster Artist-like treatment. Honestly, that would provide a far more fascinating story than the pureed plot provided here.

In the end, Who Needs Sleep is a great sleeping aid, but a horribly dull and uninspiring documentary.

Joyless, soulless.

The best thing about a movie like this is I never have to see it again.

Typical of too many films produced in Israel: plodding, verbose, badly-made and completely monotonous.

The camerawork is a smidge too shaky and the lighting/color design too dark for me to relish the Predator-on-Alien butt-kicking.

It’s Cangialosi’s writing and direction that result in a watered-down, emotionally manipulative experience.

A thoroughly awful Korean production which vainly attempts to recast the slam-bang conventions of American action-adventure flicks into the sticky world of contemporary Korean politics.

Neither fun nor funny.

You really have to be in the right mood to sit through Tony Takitani. You have to be ready to take in a thoroughly depressing story that moves...very...slowly.

Dreadful.

The directing style of Strange Nature fails to bring any atmosphere, the acting is so nondescript that it barely registers (with two notable exceptions), and a lack of cohesive vision leaves the movie uncertain of what it truly is. An absolute waste of time for all involved, especially the audience.

The Friendship Game is deplorable from beginning to end. Fans of Peyton List may get a small amount of enjoyment, as the actor is good. Unfortunately, she’s the only worthwhile part of the film, as the direction, editing, and cinematography are woefully incompetent.

A profoundly unnecessary movie, The Girl From Monday is an embarrassment.

Figgis is clueless on how to make a thriller. He falls into all the traps of a first-time suspense director, and he can't help but focus on all the depressing faults of the shockingly dull characters.

Clooney has littered his film with such a high quantity of mistakes that it is hard to know where exactly to begin finding fault.

Fans of prison flicks would do better to catch the HBO series "Oz" or the five millionth rebroadcast of "The Shawshank Redemption."

Wants to be three different films at one time but sadly never asks much from Diesel other than to grunt, stomp around, and reprise the role that made him a star.

It is just too bad that the film isn't called "Miniscule Movie" because that is a better description of this epic-less piece of garbage.

Godawful mess.

Alas, instead of a scathing critique of racial injustice, a revamping of the “man seeks revenge after his family is murdered/kidnapped” trope, the director delivers gratuitously violent, vulgar, clichéd, jaw-droppingly sexist, and racist cinematic bile.

If "Models'" comedy is a bore, the characters' redemption is sheer agony – not to mention the shameless pop-cultural referencing that repeats like a bad taco.

What could have been a cool concept movie buckles under an uninspired script and some treacherous miscasting.

The same problems that plagued the original are on display here. Most notably, the lack of any coherent plot. Lots of creepy kids jump out at us, but these scenes are never satisfactorily meshed into the story itself.

To paraphrase the play's most famous song: how do you measure the lien against your soul when you're forced to sit through something as forcibly maudlin as Rent? I dunno, but 525,600 minutes is about how long this movie felt at times.

I'm going to beat my head into a wall until I relieve myself of the memory of this film that was, well, retarded.

Sunset Society manages to abuse what little b-grade credibility it earns through its cast and premise with an unbearable slog through monotony and surprising tameness.

The thing is, these chatty, pedantic, annoying characters are simply not interesting enough to follow for five minutes, let alone over two hours.

Sommers suspends the laws of time and physics and forces his characters to spout some of the cheesiest dialogue imaginable.

Painfully boring.

One small step for bad filmmaking and one giant leap for the increasing insignificance of the former Michael Corleone.

There was a movie called “My Bodyguard” about the new kid in high school who hires the sullen loner to protect him from a bully. That was good. Drillbit Taylor is shit but, hey, I’m in Judd Apatow’s Hollywood.

A nearly complete and total disaster.

It tries to toe the line between romantic comedy and vulgar pseudo-satire and fails at both.

It's such a dumb movie, it's hard to believe it wasn't an SNL sketch first.

There's nothing but a convoluted overcast of story with a monsoon of bad dialogue.

The movie is never funny, scary, spooky, or interesting. Bakalova and Davidson are trying their best but cannot buoy the picture. Badly lit, poorly shot, and sporting even worse dialogue, the film offers nothing to anyone, though it thinks it has something important to say. Pretentious and dull is the worst combination.

The end result is stale, clumsy, and about as compelling as an average episode of "As the World Turns."

A typical end-of-the-year dump film, in that there's almost no reason to see it.

A stupid summer movie.

Affleck may finally have found a use for his obnoxious personality, because Drew is amazingly annoying.

Polson offers up a few chilling scares, but the underwritten screenplay really does show off its weaknesses.

One such feeble miscue that can't be saved by the star power of Joe Pesci and David Spade.

Designed to appeal to the lowest common denominator, in equal parts juvenile and offensive, Purge of Kingdom is the worst film I’ve seen so far in 2019. If a fart gag makes your sides split with laughter, go right ahead – otherwise, avoid at all costs.

It’s just a mess.

Lisa Kudrow, the designated comic relief, has never been so consistently unfunny, and Gina Gershon looks uncomfortable in every (pseudo-)inspirational moment.

It's performances like these that make it so easy to forget that, when he wants to, Costner can indeed act and be an appealing star.

It is definitely the weakest movie of the Weitz catalog and will certainly be forgotten faster than Hung himself.

A frozen pile of reindeer droppings. The cinematic equivalent to passing a kidney stone, Zwigoff’s unholy foray into “dark comedy” gives us a suicidal, sociopathic drunk slinging swear words with a ferocity that would make Tony Montana wince.

Who wants to be subjected to water torture for 2 hours?

The movie fails on nearly every level. The film is has good intentions and moments of energy, but it's merely a faint echo of the great 1960s counterculture pictures.

Since Equilibrium shamelessly rips off every Orwellian science fiction thriller in film history, what other reason is there besides sheer desperation for the film to be so stupidly violent?

The love story that is supposed to drive the film fails to ignite a single spark--and, hence, the film fails to generate a single iota of interest from the viewer.

Seriously, it's a bad sign for your "kids movie" when the kids in question are asking their parents, "When is something going to happen?"

Nihilistic and offensive, it leaves you with more than a sour taste – nausea, perhaps, or a need to bathe in Listerine.

The title not only describes its main characters, but the lazy people behind the camera as well.

Laughter erupts during scenes and certain close-ups that were designed to induce screams.

Add another one to the scrap heap of trendy, nostalgic, 60's and 70's TV shows reduced to cinematic rubble by the inspiration starved minds in Hollywood.

Holy Man is just a dumb romantic comedy passing itself off as something else.

Is this what Sean Penn has come to in his 40s? He hasn't appeared this retarded since he was married to Madonna.

This movie is a great, big mess. It’s never truly scary, and you get the feeling that Tobe Hooper’s been living off the original flick’s rep for so long that he didn’t give a damn if this movie sucked or not. And, believe me, it does.

There's a fine line between inspiration and manipulation, and from its first frame, Joshua crosses it and never looks back.

Tiresome, trite and choked with every lousy Dixie-fried stereotype imaginable.

All the while Madea's wit, which is refreshing on the stage, feels spurious and often misfires.

Little more than a travelogue designed to show off the grandeur of the Hermitage, with the silly actors in fancy costumes getting in the way of the paintings and sculptures on display.

This is the sort of film that fails on every single aspect it aims for.

The humor is boring and in most spots inappropriate for children.

If What Happens in Vegas... serves any purpose, it's to make me consider spending my gambling money in Reno or on a riverboat instead.

This film marks for Jon Voigt a concerted effort to unseat Christopher Walken in the competition for the Czarship of sneering, wheezing, Machiavellian, all-around weird guys. He spends much of his time standing around making a face like Beavis does when he's really freaked out.

In the end, two things prevent Big Kill from being a complete flop. First, Mark Atkins’ cinematography is gorgeous, containing sweeping vistas that would’ve made John Ford proud. And second, although most of the characters are caricatures, several of the actors clearly get a kick out of their roles, particularly Patric. If only the rest of the movie were as entertaining as they are.

A Minecraft Movie is not funny, exciting, or clever.

The whole film plays like a hunk looking at himself in the mirror.

This movie is a 21st century take on the tired switched-persons genre, with predictable and obvious gag-inducing results.

Even by Hollywood sequel standards, this is lazily conceived, cynically recycled stuff.

The wackiness that unfolds is boring, ridiculous and, to most, offensive.

Bubble is among his (Soderbergh) worst films. What in the world was he thinking with this?

It is impossible to say whether the premise or its execution is more fatal in "Death to Smoochy." One would expect something greater out of the talents assembled.

Veers between flaccid slapstick and mean-spirited vulgarity.

Clearly, Gomorrah is supposed to represent the best of today’s European cinema...and if this is the best, I would hate to imagine the worst! Gomorrah is a boring mess focusing on how the mob in today’s Naples has its tentacles stretched far and wide

The worst sin of omission in Secret Window is the removal of the fact that Rainey had actually plagiarized in the past. In the story, this is critical because it is the source of Rainey’s guilt -– and arguably the reason for his success.

The kind of movie where you shout advice at the characters on screen, because we have so much more information than they do.

Has a terrible air of been-there/done-that.

Dear Lord, this movie didn’t need to be made. It is profoundly awful. The foreshadowing is relentless. Sorry, Barry Jenkins just can’t direct animation.

The kind of film that's too romantic for younger viewers and too redundant for young teens. For both sets, the laughs come infrequent (if at all), no thanks to Lohan giving another sub par performance.

Too bad Guy Pearce who plays Kendall, the obvious villain, couldn't do the same thing. His awful performance here will almost make you forget he was "Memento" and "L.A. Confidential."

Tomorrow Never Dies, like the commercial marketing assault the Bond cast has been involved in, is a hollow experience that's egregiously trumped up by its high energy glitz and gimmickry. Somewhere, in their rush to amaze and thrill, the filmmakers forgot about Bond, the man.

Mrs. Doubtfire is overlong, barely funny, and a surprisingly bitter movie especially for a film aimed at children.

This is the sort of film that would drive Miss Daisy to upchuck at the shenanigans of its saintly, cardboard characters and its bizarre, rose-colored depiction of U.S. race relations.

The recreational vehicle has a long and storied tradition in American cinema, from "Damnation Alley" to "Lost in America" to "Stripes." Sadly, RV shares little of its namesake' nationwide appeal.

Monster Hunter is red meat to any cynical moviegoer of the modern age looking for exhibit A. It’s been commodified and globalized to the point of nonidentity.

The kind of a moron movie, which is built to be watched by people who haven’t even seen the other nine.

Here’s a would-be horror film that contains not one ounce of professional pride in its making, not one shred of technical competence. This is one of the worst films of recent times.

Mathew Broderick is likeable enough as the gizmo and gadget-toting cartoon hero in-the-flesh, but the plot, to which the FX wizardry is strung to, is in serious need of a tune up.

By far the most appallingly cretinous picture in which Keaton has ever appeared.

Neither a stimulating satire nor a serious exposure of the operations of the finance industry.

For devotees of the series, the gore is still there and the traps are just as weird as they were in the other entries but for the rest of us, your mind will forget it the second the end credits roll.

Sadly, everything is predictable, which is to the detriment of the mostly fine, young talent that appears in this ineffective retread.

It seems as if every possible cliche and story twist from any seafaring picture of the past 80 years made its way into this flick.