Assisted by passionless central performances and dull dialogue, Mungiu succeeds only in exhausting our patience, not in conveying a message.

In all, this film is a major disappointment with a few powerful highlights.

Too self-consciously dark, too aware of its long, murky, art-designed descent into the underbelly of America's addictive personality.

A dud. Neither sweet nor low-down enough by half.

In the end, Butterfly is an infuriating film because it's so very contrived, so annoyingly phony.

This reprehensible and deeply unfunny film is obviously critic-proof.

The collapse of Office Space's second half is so egregious that one can't help but suspect Judge's Achilles heel may be his writing. It's not that he can't write -- it's just that his ideas tend to shine better within a pool of fellow scribes, as proven in his television career.

This overdone project dissipates its energy in strange ways (sudden shifts to black-and-white, as though hailing the spirit of Oliver Stone and that other Costner JFK movie), and makes you wish its makers had shown the same restraint the government did during the crisis.

The prolific 76-year-old British creator of character-rich, social dramas steeped in natural realism (usually) has whiffed it and whiffed it hard with this one. It’s not that it’s just “lesser Loach.” It is, in my opinion at least, humiliating.

The best word to describe it is strange, though it could have been halfway decent (yes, all the way up to halfway decent) if the third act hadn’t succumbed to the crescendo of craziness that had been building for the first hour.

Nymphomaniac Vol. 1 is the worst thing Lars Von Trier has ever associated himself with.

A film that inserts banal plot devices and endless cutesiness in place of where the “good parts” should be.

A big disappointment.

It's hard to think of a single memorable line from Restaurant, even a memorably bad one.

A shapelessly propulsive mess of pop psychology and poor drama.

The Wolverine reveals itself to be a film in desperate need of a point, in dire need of consequences and in a wandering search of any semblance of emotional weight.

I can't imagine why De Niro, who is a fine comedian, is still coasting on his gangster act, and surely Crystal can do something other than play himself...it feels a little like an exercise in laziness.

Sarandon prostitutes her blazing talent and sharp political sensibility to the service of a pile of misogynistic bullflop.

The film looks horrendous, poorly composed and staged, and the rhythm staggers.

Everyone will be indifferent, as indifferent and uncaring as the characters the film portrays.

I just really, really, really, don't like this movie, and I don't care who knows it.

Appalling because it never transcends its adolescent-boy glee at being allowed entry to the highly sexualized arena of prostitution.

It’s just boring – and boring in a way that apparently has no endgame.

The fact that isolated bits are amusing shouldn't keep us from strongly noting that this movie really is pretty awful -- not at all worthy of guilty pleasure status.

Fading Gigolo wants to be some sort of sunny tapestry about New York’s social groups, but it’s impossible to see past its absurd premise.

Hopefully, the next time around, Chadha's imagination will be in the service of not just excellent casting and directing, but a script to match those other cinematic components.

An often gorgeous, dizzying assault of ideas and visual flourishes...it's just not very good.

Derivative, cliché-ridden and old hat.

It's all quite precious, just not in a good way: "Postmodern" to a fault, deeply shallow, infuriatingly trite.

Mr Kumble: Keep your hands off the classics! You don't deserve to read them, let alone paraphrase them.

A bad movie about a great man.

A terrible, tired piece of filmmaking.

But as objectionable as its subject matter is, the most objectionable thing is that it's not funny.

Thanks for Sharing can’t quite find its footing as either a drama or a comedy, and near the end it’s actively sliding off the rails.

Never more than a dull, paint-by-numbers, overly literal transcription of the book.

In the end, Malena is an unlikable and foul farce, unworthy of Tornatore's previously gentle touch.

So relentlessly vanilla that it never springs to life.

We all have childhoods to remember. Art needs to do more than just remind us.

Naming aside, Epic could have been good, except that it wasn’t, it was stone cold terrible, something even a six-year-old might scoff at. I know, I’m just as sad as you are about the whole thing.

Mangold ultimately can't displace memories of "An Angel at My Table," "Lilith," "The Snake Pit," "I Never Promised You a Rose Garden" and other, stronger accounts of young women placed in mental institutions.

I see Austin Powers as Myers' desperate cry for help -- a plea to stop him before he does schtick again.

Loses touch with its characters.

Computer technology may be the actual phantom menace, after all.

An active affront to logic, placing us in a world we firmly know doesn’t exist.

The whole picture is lifeless and without consequence.

Atrocious comedy.

Ti West’s pointless new film The Sacrament, an exercise in talking loud and saying nothing, isn’t just bad, it’s infuriating.

Another droning formulaic thriller.

The sound is great, the explosions are great, the look and feel could have been turned into something special. It’s the words and plot that are huge negatives here.

Slouches in as a weightless, instantly forgettable picture.

It's sporadically funny but often unfunny, the latter worse than not being funny enough.

A slumming Spike Lee is still better than most directors at the top of their game, but Oldboy isn’t just Lee’s worst movie, it’s practically his “Wicker Man”.

Quite shameless in imitating its predecessors.

Exists in some kind of limbo, between hard-core porn and European art film, and it's not likely to satisfy fans of either.

“Expendables 3” has fewer nauseating clichés than The Judge.

Simplistic and non-controversial, and thus is virtually guaranteed commercial success.

The empty violence and pointless style are only the biggest problems.

A long portrait of someone who outstays his welcome fairly early on.

The real problem is that it's not a very good Hollywood film, and its flaccid style, cardboard characters, and paint-by-the-numbers plot make watching it a chore.

Stretched too thin, looks cheap, and can't quite go the distance.

The screenplay is far too obsessed with the setup, and not at all concerned with making the villains even the least bit believable or scary.

Even the love story doesn’t work, because Moretz and Blackley exhibit zero romantic chemistry, and it’s never exactly clear why the pair love each other so much.

Has its - very - occasionally funny moments, so does a car crash.

Despite this chance to experience something thrilling and new, her life is just as dull the second time around.

Appears to be several different movies spliced together, with unfortunate results.

Some things just don't translate . . . not with Lipnicki attached, at any rate. Stick with the books.

A clumsy and tone-deaf comedy.

It just doesn't work. Worse, it's downright offensive.

A relentlessly unfunny, charmless send-up of better films with better ideas.

Afailed attempt at a hipster screwball comedy. Very failed.

A nonsensical mishmash.

Vatel is really about production design, so if you're not absolutely passionate about 18th century table-settings, wigs and bodices, you might as well just stay at home and watch the Food Channel.

It does... apply Kitano's black-comic style to a different setting, and individual scenes sparkle with unexpected jokes, twists, and occasional cruelties.

It may have a good liberal conscience, and genuine sympathy for the rare perspective of a homeless person, but this movie is a fundamentally sentimental exercise.

Tina Fey is in the film, for heaven’s sake, and I love her to pieces, but by now we know to expect something humdrum when she’s on a movie screen.

It's just not funny.

Has even less directorial initiative than it has romantic spark.

What were they thinking?

In fact, The Internship rivals the aggressively bland “Larry Crowne” for sheer tepidness, if not worse due to the exhaustive product placement for a company whose real-life presence is unlikely to soon wane.

Gun Shy can't rise on wobbly legs, and its real potential is lost for good.

With the possible exception of the action sequences and the occassionally imaginitive set design, it's awful.

Despite a lead performance by the always welcome Julianne Moore it is rudderless in its presentation and outright stupid in its central conceits.

The visual fireworks and catchy score just underline the extreme superficiality of the material.

Tired, overcomplicated mix of macho bullshit.

The first sixty minutes of Pompeii are awful, bordering on unwatchable... The final forty-five minutes of the movie however are, by sheer force of will, irrefutably entertaining. At least there’s raining death in the form of fireballs smashing up the place.

Seems to be an exercise not unlike the phone-booth stuffing of the '50s; namely, let's see how much plot we can fit into a movie before it bursts.

Does this mean that Sabotage is a rich, morally complex story about the gray zone between good and evil? Hell, no. It just means it is a bungle.

An excruciating misfire.

The humor is, at best, thudding. At its worst, it's breathtakingly stupid and offensive.

Visually stunning but emotionally shallow.

You'll laugh, but you'll hate yourself by the time you're out of the theater.

Atrocious bit of by-the-numbers screen filler. And anyone who easily lapses into sugar comas is advised to stay far, far away.

Lyonne, as usual, does her best...but she's running uphill.

The small reward is the cool, confident presence of DMX, who shows signs of being a great leading man. But only in a much smarter, more original movie.

Utterly unnecessary sequel.

Hollow, uninteresting and false.

One of the least endurable films of 1999.

Limp direction, laughable production values, accent-heaving acting and dialogue and more lumps than three-day-old oatmeal.