Smile feels like one man's answer to movies increasingly overloaded with sex and violence.

Has all the depth of an episode of "Joey."

The film is more of an exercise in pandering and propaganda -- give your baby up for adoption, you selfish pig! -- than the heartfelt drama it aims to be.

Film remakes of old TV shows are all the rage in Hollywood. And several, including the inventive Brady Bunch Movie, have managed to seamlessly close the generation gap. Not so Sgt. Bilko, which succumbs to friendly fire. [02 Apr 1996, p.3C]

As far as titles go, Cote d'Azur doesn't quite cut it for this topsy-turvy French comedy, in which an innocent seaside vacation gets really messy once a family full of busybodies starts poking around in one another's business.

Even if you're willing to overlook the preposterous plot holes in its premise, Accepted pushes its luck in its final half-hour.

A wobbly fantasy that relies on the actor's mischievous energy and rakish charisma for its laughs.

Kitano's most enjoyable, flat-out fun movie, provided you can stomach the violence.

Swami says, “Steer clear of The Guru, a dismally dumb sex comedy, lest you waste $9 and 90 minutes of your life you will never get back.''

A fair weekend distraction for 10-year-old girls.

An important and interesting story, but the reform school itself never seems terribly harsh.

A mesmerizing documentary about the rise and fall of a drug lord, perhaps the biggest there ever was.

The film's one great asset, a real surprise, is Robert Downey Jr. in the title role. He grabs something of the Little Tramp's innate grace and anarchic wit, and he runs with it -- pratfalls with it and waddles off into the sunset with it. [08 Jan 1993, p.G5]

The movie is all moist grime and seedy atmosphere, and it's certainly something to look at: It's beautifully lurid. But it's an empty, unengaging movie, and by the end, it has become ridiculous, too.

Only Nunn has enough charisma -- despite relying on a stereotype or two as Bradley -- to easily command attention whenever he's onscreen. If only he could have transferred some of that charisma to Ford -- and to Regarding Henry -- during the therapy sessions. [10 July 1991, p.D1]

Scott embraces the lightness of the material instead of trying to give it unnecessary weight, and even if he's far from the ideal filmmaker to choreograph bits of slapstick, A Good Year is never less than visually ravishing.

The Box is a mess, but it's a curiously haunting, intriguing, brain-tickling mess, and it delivers that "Donnie Darko" feeling in truckloads. Or should that be rocketloads?

Sporadically amusing.

Bradshaw, who is funnier than you might suspect, also turns out to be the most fearless of performers.

The fact that you won't remember any of these names for more than a minute should indicate exactly how much depth each character displays.

It's a testament to the personalities of the actors, as well as the foundation laid by the original film, that we retain an emotional connection to the main players in Revolutions.

Manages to be entertaining, largely because of the appealing Adam Brody.

You come away from the movie lamenting the missed opportunity and wondering what a stronger, bolder filmmaker would have done with this material.

Not since Brian De Palma's "Carrie" has a horror movie so effectively exploited the genre as a metaphor for adolescent angst, female sexuality and the strange, sometimes corrosive bonds between girls who claim to be best friends.

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

Thank Segal in part, because the guy is always funny, and Timberlake gets some of the biggest laughs in a particularly crude sex scene (though the song with which his character woos Miss Squirrel is perhaps the film's funniest moment).

And unlike other recent dramas such as "Rendition," the film never feels like it's preaching. Instead, it just urges: Whatever you believe, do something.

When the youngsters are out of the way and old pros Hackman and Weaver work, it's hard to really dislike Heartbreakers. Sometimes, it's even a little bit of harmless fun.

Call it a victory for sincerity and style: Despite its familiarity, Blonde 2 doesn't make you want to pull out your hair by its (touched-up) roots.

For all its noble intentions, the movie is really a work of crass exploitation -- an obvious and manipulative grab to cash in on the post-9/11 hero worship of the firefighting profession.

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.

Reminiscent of Showgirls minus the sex, nudity, sleaze, bad acting and horrible dancing, Burlesque is a typical A Star is Born story.

If anyone other than Gus Van Sant had directed Restless, the film could have well been impossible to sit through.

Flyboys is so schematic and contrived, you can anticipate exactly what scene is going to come next, and who will be the next to die in combat, once you latch onto the structure of the script, which has all the inventiveness and ingenuity of a flow chart.

Two things are going on in The Razor's Edge, the second movie adaptation of Somerset Maugham's novel. One is that Bill Murray, the comedian, is trying a dramatic role for the first time. Another is that people out in the seats are being bored to tears. [19 Oct 1984, p.D1]

Everyone, including the candidates, will recognize the importance of civic duty, leaving Swing Vote to end with swelling music and uplifting speechifying but on a completely unsatisfactory note.

He never gets the material under control. But what he has, in 1492, is dazzling. [09 Oct 1992, p.G5]

Never before has Egoyan made a picture this egregiously, relentlessly bad.

The lack of cynicism is refreshing, but someone needed to tell Redford pixie dust and a nine-iron will only get you so far.

Melding multiple genres, the movie is certainly funny, but the admirable, reckless energy that makes it worthwhile for much of the running time eventually peters out.

Goes too far in its slapstick efforts to please mainstream audiences, but there's no denying the genuine appeal of -- and I can't believe I'm actually writing this -- Richard Gere and ballroom dancing.

Hiding Out is a pleasant bit of fluff; it's Back to the Future without the fantasy. It's no breakthrough in movie- making, but it's not dumb either. There are enough funny lines and enough winning performances to forgive the implausibilities and the ridiculous action scene at the end. [06 Nov 1987, p.D5]

Young Guns II looks good, and offers -- for those in its audience who, against all odds, might care -- a mildly interesting theory on what really happened to Billy the Kid. And if this is what it takes to keep the Western alive, if not yet prospering, ride on, Guns, ride on. [01 Aug 1990, p.D1]

Falls far short of the sweep, complexity and passion it seeks.

I Saw the Light, though, doesn’t live up to Hiddleston’s efforts; it’s shallow and disjointed, handicapped by a weak, cliche-sodden script.

Janeane Garofalo is all wrong as the giraffe, whom the animators contort into all manner of weird positions so she can share the frame with pint-size love interest Benny the squirrel (Jim Belushi).

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

It's surprising to see a three-hour movie about Chicanos being distributed by a major studio, and Hackford had an opportunity to do something special. Instead, he simply gives us more of the same. [30 Apr 1993, p.G5]

The story's third-act detour into tragedy is predictable and unwelcome, providing a resolution that is too pat and familiar to be moving.

Full Grown Men marks the feature debut of director David Munro, who was born and raised in Miami and shoots Florida like a native.

Cosmatos' constant device of setting up the audience, releasing the tension and then setting up again gives the movie a pacing that is all manipulation. [22 May 1985, p.D1]

Nine Months displays its Capraesque family values with pride, and it will make you laugh, but there's something oddly mechanical about it -- much like Grant himself. Whether or not the actor lives up to his own hype remains to be seen, but judging from Nine Months, his fame has begun to dwarf his talent. [12 July 1995, p.1E]

Jordan's jokes are sometimes stereotypical barbs tossed at Americans, but the Irish director definitely can inject hackneyed Hollywood devices with high-spirited fun. Be warned, though, you'll have to stomach some dismal scenes between Hannah and Guttenberg -- the biggest stiffs in this movie. [18 Nov 1988, p.D8]

Oscar, the new Stallone vehicle, is dreadful for an hour or so, then merely bad. By the time it's bearable, the picture is almost over. And by the time it's over, no regrets. [26 Apr 1991, p.G5]

Antonio Banderas looks a little older, Catherine Zeta-Jones snares a bigger role, and the powerful charms of both are weighed down by an absurdly plot-heavy script.

Mostly silly and always frothy, as sugary at times as wedding-cake frosting but tempered with a welcome strain of sour grapes, mostly doled out by the peerless Judy Greer as Jane's cynical, slutty best friend.

The movie is slightly more sappy, and the characters are necessarily less fleshed out than they are in Audrey Niffenegger's dazzling novel, but neither shortcoming detracts from the film's appeal.

Combined with the sluggish story line, Daylight becomes a chore to sit through: The only people who want to get out of the tunnel more desperately than the characters in the movie are the ones stuck in the theater. [6 Dec 1996, p.5G]

A royal mess, a lethally stupid romantic teen comedy.

The dead-serious Man on Fire awakens a genuine sense of bloodlust in the viewer. This is a slick, big-budget, A-list production designed to stoke our basest impulses -- to make us long for, and cheer at, bloody, merciless vengeance.

Huston, unfortunately, is never really believable as a man rediscovering lost principles; he feels out of place in this otherwise fine ensemble.

Out of Bounds is a jazzy, raffish looking movie. It flirts with punk. It's also a fundamentalist summer-teen thriller, with two kids on the lam from everyone, and in L.A., too. The movie wants it both ways: stylish, safe. Mostly it's dumb. [28 July 1986, p.D5]

One of the great pleasures of the original Love Bug comes in watching all the live-action stunts, and CG just isn't the same.

The movie shouldn’t be dismissed outright, either. It’s a creepy experiment that stays with you.

Falling into the trap that sinks most horror sequels, Blair Witch amps the jolts and shocks with more visceral frights (there’s some business involving an infected foot wound that is truly unnerving and also super gross) to diminishing results.

Neither scary nor thrilling, although it's reasonably entertaining despite an abundance of haunted-house clichés, the usual inexplicable scary-movie behavior and an almost-naked John Hurt.

Oddly tone deaf.

I Want to Believe provides a welcome reminder of what made Carter's franchise a pop-culture gem.

Timing is key in a comedy like this, and Sonnenfeld keeps everyone and everything clicking. The pacing is swift and the laughs are steady.

Lands with a thud right from its painfully unfunny prologue and maintains its plodding, exasperating course straight through to its car-chase-and-shootout finale.

Undeniably charming, and kids will certainly enjoy it.

There is so much that is wrong with The Alamo that it is easier to begin with what the movie gets right: Davy Crockett. As played by Billy Bob Thornton.

The film's earnestness makes up for its high corn factor.

The whole thing is so listless and mechanical, watching it is a curiously dispiriting experience. You start hoping someone whips out a bear suit.

The script is by Chris Columbus (Home Alone), who also directed, and it's as lazy as it is maudlin. [24 May 1991, p.G13]

Chase and D'Angelo are clever and naturally funny, and they're well-matched. And yet the movie is dumb, so dumb it must have taken some work to make it that way. Perhaps next the Griswalds should make a forced march through a Hollywood executive's brain. [27 July 1985, p.B3]

Has he forgotten how to act? He can't deliver lines, he has no comic timing, he moves like a crippled buffalo -- Eastwood is so awful in this unfunny action comedy that those obnoxious movies with Clyde the orangutan now seem like Shakespeare. [29 May 1989, p.C1]

Cox's morose performance could not be less interesting, Harrison's visual stylings all feel borrowed from David Fincher movies and nine inch nails music videos, and the film's elliptical mysteries, which twist onto themselves a la Mulholland Drive, aren't interesting enough to ponder.

It'll have you wishing the villain was just another maniac with a machete or a chain saw. [30 Jan 1989, p.C6]

The film, which comes way too close to preaching, lurches away from the control of director Mark Waters (Mean Girls, Freaky Friday) and ends on a stretched-out note so sappy it makes "Must Love Dogs" look like "8 Mile."

The film adaptation of Pink Floyd's chart-topping album The Wall has all the humor and charm of a brain tumor. [21 Sept 1982, p.B4]

Mr. Jones is an even bigger disappointment when you consider it's directed by Mike Figgis (Internal Affairs, Liebestraum), who has shown talent for off-kilter thrillers. Saddled with a routine and unimaginative script here, he indulges in well-worn cliches, including setting his big scene between Gere and Olin against a thunderstorm (which inadvertently drowns out part of Olin's dialogue). [9 Oct 1993, p.G4]

The genius of a feature film based on the 1980s TV series is that it can't help but exceed expectations that are so low to begin with.

It's a strange kind of spiritual movie -- one that aims for the gut more often than the heart.

This is superficial entertainment to say the least. But if you're looking for laughs, then Just Friends is just fine.

Just plain fun.

To be fair, Secret Admirer is somewhat more clever and a great deal sweeter than the standard for its damp genre. Those who remember with affection Archie's constant flailings at Veronica with the help of lovesick Betty will feel on familiar ground here. The outcome seems fixed almost from the opening moments, and the fact that lonesome Toni, who is made out to be the wallflower, is considerably more attractive than the horsy Debora Anne ("the most beautiful girl in school") is only the first of many tip-offs. [14 June 1985, p.D2]

There's not a dull moment in the thing, and it's dumb as dirt. But who can resist? It's the ultimate guilty pleasure, the kind of movie that in years to come, when they're chronicling the decline of our culture, will turn up as an exhibit. [23 Nov 1990, p.G5]

I guess Perfect is a movie about aerobics, journalism, ethics and love and a couple of hunks. It is even more stupid than it sounds. It is the stupidest thing I have seen this year, in or out of the movies. [7 June 1985, p.C9]

If nothing else, director/screenwriter Jordan Roberts knows good music. If only we could say the same about his script.

Fiery but turgid adaptation of the 1890 August Strindberg play.

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

A late-summer delight, a sleek, handsomely made bauble buoyed by a cast much stronger than the flimsy material deserves.

Instead of a tense, emotional and psychological thriller or a thoughtful exploration of grief and guilt, what we end up with is ... soap. Whether you choose to wash your hands of it is up to you.

What we are not spared is the sort of trite movie that lacks the backbone of any good dysfunctional-family comedy: a thread of the universal amid the absurdity.

Director Daniel Petrie Jr. does a journeyman job, though he lets the air out of the thing at the end. [26 Apr 1991, p.G5]

You need lots of gifted people chasing after the same bad idea to make a movie as colossally misguided as Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close.

If any of this screams "cheap Generation X marketing ploy," you're right on the money. [31 March 1995, p.5G]