The film hardly aims to be serious entertainment, and, to its credit, it's never uninteresting visually.

I haven't watched "Fargo" in a few years, but I still remember almost every scene. I saw Thin Ice two nights ago and cannot in all honesty tell you how it ends.

You watch it in stunned disbelief, wondering how a movie that started so strongly devolved into something so absurd.

Unfortunately, disappointingly dull, a lumbering Bore-us-saurus of a movie.

The 6th Day gets a lot of mileage out of Schwarzenegger, who once seemed incapable of playing anything other than a cartoon but is becoming more and more of a "real" person with age.

The movie is a lowbrow showcase for an equally lowbrow comedian, and how much of it you can endure depends entirely on how you feel about Kattan.

You can tell they're desperate when they unashamedly resort to showcasing cutesy sea-creature behavior. Sandler is a funny guy. Let him work for his own laughs. He doesn't need a puking walrus to prop him up.

The result, as is always the case with short story collections, is a mixed bag, although unlike "Paris Je T'Aime," the duds outnumber the winners this time.

This inventive family movie sets up the most delightful premise, then squanders it on the kind of yawn-inducing CG adventure you might expect from one of those long, plot-heavy cut scenes that slow down video games.

A momentary diversion.

The movie will disappoint basement-dwellers who worried a female-centric Ghostbusters would somehow ruin their childhoods, because it isn’t bad enough to hate. But the film is an even bigger letdown for fans of Melissa McCarthy, Kristen Wiig, Leslie Jones and Kate McKinnon, who are forced to play most of this material straight, with no room for comic improvisation.

Much of The Men Who Stare at Goats is indeed amusing, although mostly in a mild, setting-the-stage kind of way, and your smiles eventually turn to yawns.

As is usual for this durable genre, victim and villain are well matched. Though House on Sorority Row does not have a single screeching-cat red herring, and though power tools are not employed, it does have a classic of low camp, a scene in which a girl who has just been nearly brained by a falling corpse repairs immediately and alone to her bedroom, where she changes into a baby-doll nightie and stands with her back to an open window. [23 Feb 1983, p.B4]

It's not that Sahara is offensively bad: It's just that the picture, loud and busy as it is, never really finds its own identity.

The best thing about this mildly diverting but instantly forgettable comedy is that it seems to have awakened something in Murphy that had laid dormant for much of the past two decades.

When Collet is interacting with other kids or with his girlfriend and partner-in-crime Jenny (Cynthia Nixon, who played Mozart's maid in Amadeus), The Manhattan Project is a witty, enjoyable teen-age movie. But when, laughs and all, it is addressing the nuclear perils -- timely as the topic might be in the aftermath of Chernobyl -- the project dries up under the spell of sophisticated visual values, glossy props and sexy laser lights. [13 June 1986, p.D3]

Technically a prequel to "Da Vinci" but could also pass for a two-hour episode of "24," rarely stands still long enough for anyone to deliver a monologue.

Detention has a frenetic visual style that's fun and appealing in a lot of ways, but there are way too many elements fighting for attention.

Last Man Standing is utterly bereft of humor -- Hill plays every scene perfectly straight -- and it's a drag. There's no cleverness to Smith's machinations, no joy in watching his plans come to fruition. [20 Sep 1996, p.6G]

Has some very funny moments, it is weighed down by gooey sentimentality.

Doesn't conclude so much as just stop, because Brooks, having come up with a great hook for a movie, didn't bother to come up with a satisfying story to go along with it.

Coolidge knows he's not making "Death of a Salesman" here (he names the store managers Glen Gary and Glen Ross in tribute to David Mamet's elegy to the American Dream), but he's got the same eye for detail that made "Office Space" great. What he lacks is Arthur Miller's (or even Mike Judge's) sense for character.

There are a few flashes of wit in the romantic comedy Austenland, but for the most part, the humor lands not with Dear Jane’s grace and style but with all the subtlety of a cholera outbreak.

The actors all suffer beautifully, but their pain doesn’t register: It’s all affectations and red-rimmed eyes.

As it spins along at a reasonably good clip - no one is going to mistake it for the slicker, more action-packed "Salt" - The Double unravels its secrets, which prove to be its undoing.

Jodie Foster gives a bravura performance in Nell, but the film lets her down. If only the screenplay had been half as daring as Foster's portrayal of a backwoods recluse who's never ventured into the modern world. [24 Dec 1994, p.G1]

A shapeless, chaotic, overly frantic comedy that manages to make almost no sense, even if you're paying close attention.

Comes packed with so many plot twists and reversals, there's barely any room left over for a story: The movie is all clever gotchas and hoodwinks, without any substance to go along with them.

Rose made the perfectly splendid and terrifying Paperhouse, a film-festival thriller from 1988, which Candyman resembles not at all. Paperhouse scared you because it was quiet and subtle and eerie. Candyman is just Barker stuff -- all hook, no suspense. [19 Oct 1992, p.C6]

Still, this is one French comedy that could have used a little more hand wringing and a little less whimsy.

Rita, Sue and Bob Too is ultimately like a one-night stand. When it's all over, it leaves you, not laughing, but feeling soiled and rather depressed. [23 Nov 1987, p.C6]

Cannot sustain the level of comic insanity the filmmakers hoped for -- no movie could -- although it's bound to play much better on late-night cable TV, especially when accompanied by a few beers and the occasional bong hit.

In his debut, Alwyn comes off as a likable, sympathetic screen presence capable of handling more difficult material. He’ll have plenty more opportunities. Billy Lynn’s Long Halftime Walk, though, will be forgotten in a month’s time.

A movie about grief for people who don't want to be upset too badly. It's a half-a-hankie tearjerker, a meek, polite weepie.

Fool's Gold isn't so much a film as an opportunity to pay homage to Matthew McConaughey's impressive physique.

In Murder by Numbers, though, even Schroeder can't keep his own boredom from showing.

It's too civilized by half and never quite funny enough. [31 Jan 1986, p.D1]

The Illusionist is dogged by an inert, stale aura that overcomes everything and everyone in the movie.

Fury aims for history, and the contrived resolution shows a timidity by Ayer that is uncharacteristic of his previous work. Still, the action sequences, which use actual vintage tanks and little CGI, are pretty extraordinary and, at times, incredibly gruesome. War is hell. That’s entertainment, folks.

The effects are well-made and gruesome; the set is 'used-car tech,' a la Alien -- a space station that looks real and lived- in. Even the music is OK. But good gore only works in movies when the story is good, and this story is stolen, almost scene for scene. [01 Jun 1982, p.C6]

Blake Edwards returned to direct this time, and seems to have made the miscalculation that Benigni could carry the movie. One with less noble lineage, maybe. But the Pink Panther movies, largely because of Edwards' own brilliance at physical comedy, are very hard acts to follow. [01 Sep 1993, p.E3]

May be dumb, but it must be noted that the screenwriters of this slight, silly comedy have borrowed from the best.

Every now and then, there is even a funny line, as when the wife of one officer insists on joining the force herself: "We can wear matching uniforms, share ammo -- everything that makes a marriage work." [24 Mar 1986, p.D7]

Belongs to that genre of movie that works hard to achieve a certain twisted and demented wit.

Kudos to the production team for finding a perfect chimp for the lead role. Little Virgil has a look of such perfect solemnity and clearness of intent that not only do we not doubt that he could fly a plane, but we begin to suspect that he could craft a better script as well. [17 Apr 1987, p.D1]

For all its splendor, The New World is really a love affair between Malick and his camera.

There's no bite or sting, nor is there a single moment when the film is anything close to scary. It isn't ever engaging, either; it's a dull, sluggish bum-out.

The problem with Men, Women & Children — and it’s a big one — is that the movie isn’t telling us anything we don’t already know.

This is an affair to forget.

Ultimately done in not just by its familiarity -- anyone who can't figure out where the story is heading hasn't watched enough Scorsese -- but also by the convenient coincidences and contrivances Gray relies on in order to pump the story into something greater than it needs to be.

A film based on this information is potentially interesting, but Conspiracy of Silence, set in modern-day Ireland, is incoherent and often hard to follow.

First-time writer-director Robert Resnikoff's visual style is bland at best, and his script has nothing memorable in it -- except for unbelievable occurrences. [12 Apr 1990, p.F8]

Ends up as colorless as Reeves' first Superman suit.

A handsome but empty romantic thriller with the most passionless love triangle you may ever see. [9 Oct 1987, p.D1]

It's not only the mythical, mind-reading creature at the story's center that prevents the film from taking flight. A worn-out plot and a novice actor also contribute to the disappointment.

The film emits a subtle yet distinct John Hughes vibe.

The big trouble with John Carpenter's Big Trouble in Little China is its tone. This time out, the director of Halloween and Starman has concocted a cartoon with human characters -- or, as it is described in the movie's press materials, a mystical action-adventure comedy-kung-fu monster-ghost story. Any film that needs that many adjectives to explain itself is already in trouble. [03 July 1986, p.D9]

Shockingly, it's an understated but amusing Ferrell who keeps Winter Passing from growing unbearable.

What's missing most in the film, though, is a palpable sense of tension.

Considering its superlative title (second only to George Stevens's New Testament epic, "The Greatest Story Ever Told"), I'm sorry to report that The Greatest Game Ever Played ranks somewhere in the murky middleground of sports movies.

It feels like three movies stitched together.

Guggenheim managed to turn a Power Point presentation into a crowd-pleasing Academy Award winner, but he can't do much to free Gracie from its constraints and clichés.

With a script co-written by Penn himself and based on a well-regarded novel by the late French crime writer Jean-Patrick Manchette, this one has to have some meat to go along with the gunplay, right? Sadly, no.

At its best when it simply lets Hoffman and De Niro play off each other .

Whoopi Goldberg gives a first-rate performance in Clara's Heart, enough to atone for the sins of her Fatal Beauty period. But it's nifty work in a lost cause. The movie is sickly sweet, shot through with the kind of confectioner's sentiment that Hollywood used to crank out on assembly lines until the formula slid into disuse. [21 Oct 1988, p.E10]

Navy Seals is all action, no talk, and it never slows down enough to let you see how dumb it is. But the sudden lack of enemies in a world gone crazily, treacherously peaceful is a problem for Hollywood. [20 July 1990, p.G5]

It's the damndest thing, watching this light but genial movie self-destruct. It's as if writer-director Barry Levinson set out to sabotage his own film by gradually turning what should have been a minor subplot into the story's main subject.

The movie, which has more than 10 credited producers, feels like one of those slick, for-the-money projects Hollywood studios cook up via graph charts and marketing surveys.

Director Hector Babenco's sentimental, unconvincing adaptation of Varella's book, is a soft, simplistic look at a tough, complicated subject.

What most hurts The Day After Tomorrow is its unfortunate, lecturing tone.

F/X doesn't have the surprises when it needs them. [8 Feb 1986, p.C7]

At several points, Strange Brew is so unhinged that it works -- when it looks as if Hosehead the skunk/dog will be late for Oktoberfest, he jumps into the air and flies there -- but as Bob and Doug seem to concede in the film's opening, they are simply not interesting enough to carry a movie. Neither is anyone else involved, and there you are: small beer. [29 Aug 1983, p.C6]

It's a shame that no one involved with Flight of the Phoenix knew what a hit phenomenon "Lost" would be, or else they might have taken greater care in developing the challenges this crew would face.

Beautiful to look at but aimless as a broken compass.

The whole thing means to come down to big, round tears and mass sniffles, but though Spielberg invokes as many golden-era cliches as he can recall, he never gets the romance really working. It's tough being compared to Spielberg, and perhaps unfair if you happen to be Spielberg, but this is easily his least substantial film to date. Some tears, yes. No sparks. [22 Dec. 1989, p.G5]

The result is like a low-rent "Wizard of Oz" or "Labyrinth," sticking close to the formula of a kid who falls asleep and wakes up in a fantastical wonderland where everything's just a little bit off.

Schwarzenegger doesn't at all seem too old for the part; his bulging muscles still fill the action-hero's suit just fine. It's what he's doing that is tired and, maybe, played out.

Real Men is too goofy for its own good, but not nearly funny enough. [21 Oct 1987, p.D5]

Sporadically amusing.

SpaceCamp is perfectly harmless and perfectly dull, but it comes at a time when NASA could use an esteem booster. For all those who get just a touch queasy at the Top Gun lesson, in which shooting down planes in peacetime is presented as role-model behavior, SpaceCamp offers a nonviolent corrective. [6 June 1986, p.D6]

The Best of Times will make points with football fans, and it might even score with believers in the human comedy. But, oh, what a disappointing first half. [1 Feb 1986, p.C4]

The uneven Goldmember seems to take a big step toward the extremely juvenile, with more scatological and fewer sex jokes

Unfortunately, Insurgent can’t quite live up to its intriguing set up. Even if you’re curious about it, the movie is often plodding and frequently nonsensical, with action that never feels novel or exciting.

You don’t buy into their romance the way you buy into, say, Emma Stone and Ryan Gosling in the upcoming “La La Land.” All you see are two big movie stars playing make-believe.

If you're not a rabid fan of Texas hold 'em -- the poker phenomenon that swept the country a couple of years ago but is hardly cutting edge now -- you might want to step quickly away from Lucky You.

Reacher is so good at everything he does, and Cruise plays him in such a robotic manner, that the movie becomes a bit of a bore: The hero is practically omnipotent.

The title's only the beginning of the many puns, and the story takes enough twists and turns through the Irish countryside to be engaging. But in the end, too much talk, too much forced quirkiness, and too many scenes we've seen before bring it down. [1 July 1998, p.2d]

The problem with I Love You, Beth Cooper is that aside from Denis' speech at the start, everything else seems familiar.

Sounds like Dirty Harry, looks like Dirty Harry, plays like Dirty Harry. The big difference is that Norris is not so mean as Eastwood, nor so interesting. Eastwood's Harry is flawed, even philosophical in his grumpy way; Norris' Sarge is just a nice guy who can kill you a hundred different ways. [06 May 1985, p.B6]

To Rome with Love is so inviting, and most of its gaggle of characters so diverse and likable, it's doubly disappointing that Allen, who wrote and directed the movie, can't think of what to do with them.

It''s loud and flashy and fun to look at, but you''ll grow tired of it very quickly.

Highbrow entertainment this isn't.

Just amusing enough to provoke a few chuckles and just short enough to keep you from glancing at your watch.

Saving Mr. Banks is two movies crammed into one cumbersome, overlong drama.

However clumsily done, the handoff has now been accomplished, and it will be interesting to see how the new crew carries the torch in subsequent movies that aren't asked to carry such weight. [18 Nov. 1994, p.5]

It might have all seemed hip and edgy 10 years ago, but today, it just feels tired.

Great messages, of course. But Glee: 3D is not good enough, it's not smart enough, and doggone it, well, you get the gist.

I'm not suggesting Costner and Kutcher should run out and remake "Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid" just yet, but in The Guardian, the two actors turn out to complement each other well enough to make a lot of this supremely derivative and formulaic picture go down better than it should.