This is a disastrously clumsy, heavy-handed movie, one so desperate and exploitative that it resorts to putting a live grenade in the hands of a baby in order to get its message across.

The whole thing feels at least three summers too stale.

18 Again is one for the VCR. On the big screen, there's not enough Burns for your money. [08 Apr 1988, p.C1]

The liveliest and most engaging time killer to come out of Hollywood in a long while. It's junk, to be sure, but it is superbly made junk.

Moves too slowly, running out of gas in the later rounds of the plot.

Watching Wilson and Hudson toil thanklessly through this mess is more laborious than writing the Great American Novel. And a lot less lucrative.

Movies like The Wild Life are softcore porn comics for teenyboppers. It's hard to believe teenagers are really as easily entertained as the makers of this movie seem to expect them to be. What ever happened to introspection and identity crises? [01 Oct 1984, p.C7]

Much of King Kong Lives in fact seems designed by and for invertebrates. It is well known that if you leave a monkey in a room with a typewriter for long enough, the monkey will write an intelligible story. With screenwriters, on the other hand, there's no guarantee. [22 Dec 1986, p.C5]

This movie hypocritically entertains viewers by appealing to the same sadistic qualities it professes to condemn. There is real suffering going on in Latin America -- and this movie has nothing to do with it. [24 Sep 1984, p.C1]

A lot like getting socks for Christmas: Better than finding coal in your stocking but not exactly as thrilling as unwrapping a big-screen HDTV.

An oddly flat, quirky romantic comedy.

Chetwynd's design, to show the POW plight in terms as dreary as its reality, works against the movie at almost every point. [20 May 1987, p.D8]

These are things to keep in mind while the movie lumbers along from retread situation to punchleszs comic setup. Pirates looks cheap and runs long; it moves fast only when it is scrabbling for a shred of charm. [18 July 1986, p.D3]

Curiously (and contrary to what its ads would have you believe), Aspen Extreme is painfully discreet when it comes to sex. Whenever the characters engage in a romantic liaison, Hasburgh nervously cuts away right after the first kiss. It's as erotic -- or even romantic -- as skinny dipping in ice water. The skiing sequences are the movie's saving grace, exquisitely photographed and thrilling to watch. If you go, try to stick around until the avalanche scene near the end: It's impressive, and it's the only thing you'll remember. [26 Jan 1993, p.E2]

No matter how much good will the actors generate, Showtime eventually folds under its own thinness.

The sci-fi thriller Repo Men gets off to a sluggish start. But wait. You have to give the movie time to find its groove and establish its premise.

This is mildly amusing, and the scenes with Niven -- his last, and reportedly dubbed by impressionist Rich Little when Niven's illness had taken the strength from his voice -- are poignant. But there is no restoring the force that made the earlier Panthers work. [12 Aug 1983, p.C5]

What's missing is some faith in the audience's intelligence and, more importantly, the jokes.

Lucky Numbers is like stuff bought at an outlet mall. Sure, it's got the brand names and designer labels, but the color's a little strange, the style a little off, and nothing fits just right.

A rarely suspenseful thriller with a twist ending of the worst kind: It takes too much explanation.

The film will probably play a lot better in dorm rooms with plenty of beer kegs and bongs on hand, but in the confines of a movie theater, it's deadly - the sort of bad comedy Mel Brooks made late in his career, until he finally smartened up and quit.

Fans of the droll style of actor Tom Hanks will chuckle through The Man With One Red Shoe, a story that builds a comic house of cards on a mistaken identity. [20 July 1985, p.4]

The action, which bookends the movie, is atrocious, defying all laws of gravity and physics and machine gun-edited into incomprehensible lunacy.

That's My Boy more than lives up to its R-rating - including one gross-out gag repulsive enough to make you put down your popcorn.

For all of 10 minutes, Gray Matters looks like it might have accomplished the impossible: uncovering a romantic-comedy scenario audiences haven't seen a million times before.

Monumentally silly thriller.

Head Office has fleetingly funny moments -- Don (Father Guido Sarducci) Novello's attempt to lure women into his limo to listen to boring pop tapes, a Don King rap that's almost as funny as his hair -- but overall, this is one movie that's bankrupt. [7 Jan 1986, p.4]

You know a movie's in trouble when the characters babble on about long ago. In The Presidio, they have to. What's happening on-screen is dull and predictable. The movie's highlights, car chases up and down the San Francisco inclines, pale in comparison to those in Bullitt. [10 June 1988, p.D5]

Getting Even With Dad halfheartedly aims to be another Home Alone, pitting inventive Timmy against bumbling Bobby and Carl. But the hijinks aren't nearly cartoonish or ingenious enough; instead, the movie is tinged with desperate, mean-spirited humor. [17 Jun 1994, p.G4]

A fairly tedious, stupid picture.

Each of those fine actors has put in a performance or two; each has made a mark. Each has made a mark here, too, if one counts dark blots on the resume. Reynolds is good; they're awful. Perhaps this is because Reynolds was directing them. He may be too nice a guy. There must be a reason. [26 Apr 1985, p.D1]

Much of the big-surf footage is stunning; some of it is terrifying. But is it worth sitting through North Shore to get to the big sets? No way, dude. [14 Aug 1987, p.D5]

Pseudo-profound fluff.

Just one more in the plague of weak Cinderella stories released in the past year. It's too sugary to be good for you, but in the end, its over-the-top sweetness won't kill you.

Cage plays his part in exactly the mode of the maimed swain of Moonstruck -- his voice is flat, his jaw slack, his eyes glazed over. He knows it's junk, and he just can't help himself. [26 May 1990, p.E1]

Blended isn’t Sandler’s funniest movie or his best, but it is a big step up from the dregs he’s been churning out, a messy, shaggy dog of a comedy that you can’t help but like even as it sheds all over your house.

It's up to O'Donnell to carry the show, and he's simply not up to the task.

Derivative and lead-footed, Trapped in Paradise is another addle-brained comedy that portrays small-town folk as inbred, backwoods hillbillies who wear funny hats with ear flaps. Writer-director George Gallo, who penned Midnight Run and Wise Guys, tries to shoehorn holiday cheer into the formula, with stifling results. [02 Dec 1994, p.G5]

A soulless, witless, landfill contraption that Smith once would have mocked mercilessly.

Senseless. [15 Sept 1989, p.33]

The plot gimmick not only makes the sequel unworthy of Highlander, it nearly destroys the charm of the original, which was its worldliness, the idea that these guys were chosen humans. [05 Nov 1991, p.C7]

Tomb is the kind of movie you sit through dreading the expository scenes, because the acting is so bad and the dialogue so pointedly written to make sure the little ones in the audience can keep up with the plot.

There's no real artistry to this: It's as though Parker has just seen "Seven" and suffered some sort of David Fincher flashback.

Unfortunately there’s far too little magic in this clumsy attempt to marry fantasy and realism; the film doesn’t have the grace or imagination to bridge the gaps between the two.

The intended satire doesn't deliver the kind of punch you may expect, but it nevertheless poses many what-ifs.

Have you ever noticed how it's always the worst horror movies that go really far out of their way to lay the groundwork for a sequel?

Bulletproof is a lobotomized rehash of Midnight Run. [11 Sept 1996, p.4D]

It's not quite true to say that death is preferable to sitting through Over HerDead Body, but it's a safe bet that if you struggle through this witless romantic comedy the lure of being six feet under will cross your mind.

There’s exactly one good scene in all of The Hangover Part III, a hilarious bit of business halfway during the end credits that reminds you what made the original film so good.

The idea, I suppose, is that love connects us all, even when it goes wrong. Fortunately, even love doesn't usually go quite so badly as this movie does.

Here, finally, is a superhero movie your AP English teacher can enjoy.

Don't expect perfection, and you'll emerge from this goofy movie all in one piece, with reasonably entertained kids and a milder headache.

The film is so gleefully ridiculous that you start to suspect the filmmakers were in on the joke and forgot to tell the actors.

Silly, overplotted conspiracy thriller.

The original rock songs on the soundtrack, which are supposed to make Lestat ''bigger than Elvis,'' are terrible -- a common challenge for movies about fictional musicians.

The movie is a clumsy and uninspired mess, which is not to say that it's not funny.

This thoroughly unoriginal splatter flick is littered with references to Hooper's seminal work and lifts the plot directly from its predecessor. [15 Jan 1990, p.C6]

It is a grim and monotonous affair despite the overkill of bad guys -- a trio of evil spirits plus a bonus serial killer -- mixed with a few cheap shocks futilely intended to make the audience jump.

If watching people having their faces cut off, getting their legs amputated and having their throats tenderly slit is your idea of a horrific good time, you'll certainly get your money's worth here.

The film seems just right for kids, though what older fans of Cruise ("Risky Business") and Scott will make of it is far less clear. [22 Apr 1986, p.B4]

It's hard to believe there could be so much slack in a film only 96 minutes long. Director Needham blows off the last 25 or so with a race sequence. We're treated to one uninteresting crowd shot after another while a Dixieland band plays Dixie -- all of Dixie -- on the soundtrack. [02 July 1983, p.C5]

The guys are more amusing than not, and they display the easy chemistry of real-life pals.

This is a slight and unessential picture, but its quirky, compassionate tone seems destined to attract a cult following, and members of high-school drama clubs everywhere will be riveted.

He's (Sandler) trying to clone himself by supporting his buddies in making low-budget, high-grossing -- in all senses of the word -- formula films just like his own.

Better than you might expect despite its awkward, slow beginning, drawing you in gradually and paying off in surprisingly effective and bittersweet ways.

There's terrific, spontaneous chemistry between Sandra Bullock and Denis Leary. Watching them bounce lines off each other is one of the biggest pleasures of Two If By Sea, a helter-skelter concoction that's part romantic comedy, part heist film and part New England travelogue...But Two If By Sea (which Leary also co-wrote) is a mess in the story department, with so many different elements competing for screen time, its stars' considerable charm ends up too diluted. [15 Jan 1996, p.5C]

Implicit in the artlessness of this scene is the filmmakers' sense of the formulaic nature of their work, which requires no higher art than bartering with the butcher for spare parts; when the teen van moves out, like a fisheries truck loaded with trout for the spring re-stocking, it's a nod to the genre and a wink for the grown-ups in the crowd. The rest is in your face. [16 Aug 1982, p.B4]

Not as bad a movie as it sounds, just mediocre.

The germ of a better film lies in that joke, but Schaeffer doesn't quite dig it out. Instead, we get painfully unfunny scenes that make us think that when it comes to writing comedy, Schaeffer should stick to his own rule: never again.

By the end, we can guess what Newman was up to, and how warm a story he meant to make. But nothing comes together until one of the characters is written out, and by that time, it is almost always too late. [02 Mar 1984, p.D1]

Truly, a modern fable in period dress...But boring. No other word for it. Director Franc Roddam (The Lords of Discipline, Quadrophenia) is a plodder. He can make dense films, ornate films, but he brings no special life to his projects. Here, he cannot escape the sumptuous confines his art directors have created or the too-rich images of cinematographer Stephen Burum. When the movie needs to race, it lurches instead, like the monster staggering castleward at the head of a torchlight parade.

Operative marketing concept: There are thousands, not just one, born every minute. [5 Aug 1986, p.B5]

It's supposed to be funny, and first-time writer-director Tom Ropelewski wastes no time in making this known, by banging the audience over the head with gags that range from brainless to crude. [16 Feb 1990, p.G5]

So lazy and rote, it feels like a rerun the first time you watch it.

Who writes this stuff, anyway? Does this not sound like utter gibberish? Surely, this film did not actually get made, did it? Yes, it did. I have seen it. But you, oh, fortunate one, don't have to. Consider yourself lucky.

Everything that cynical moviegoers despise and the tender-minded adore.

Lee remains a superb entertainer -- like Oliver Stone, he's incapable of ever being boring -- but in She Hate Me, he comes dangerously close to seeming trivial, a crank-for-crank's-sake.

It's about time Hollywood lightened up. Introducing National Lampoon's Loaded Weapon I, a spoof that takes aim, with hilarious results, at blockbusters from Lethal Weapon to Basic Instinct to Wayne's World. But viewer beware: This is Naked Gun humor at its corniest. [11 Feb 1993, p.F6]

The set design of Thirteen Ghosts may have been expensive, but its thrills are cheap.

Richard Mulligan attempts to provide comic relief for the comedy, in the role of a grizzled archangel, but it's a thankless task. The most interesting element of the film is its premise. [26 July 1985, p.D8]

Chained Heat is your basic visit to the snakepit, with a few twists. One is the presence of Linda Blair, as the innocent (she's in for vehicular homicide, "an accident," which makes her cell-hardened fellow inmates snicker with anticipation). Another is that rarely in the history of either movies or the penal system have prison officials and guards been seen to be quite this despicable. [30 May 1983, p.D5]

Annie DeSalvo, a first-time director and screenwriter, can't escape the made-for-TV feel but does manage to give her cast, mostly once-big names fallen from grace and popularity, flashes of humanity between lessons about various saints and sermons disguised as dialogue.

Shameless in its desperate grab at the heartstrings.

Premonition is actually more daring than you might expect. Not bold enough to be memorable, maybe, but just enough to keep you from falling asleep in front of the TV.

The movie is pure product, and proud of it: There isn't a single surprising moment in all of its 88 minutes, because Domestic Disturbance is designed to stick to tried-and-true formulas, instead of shaking them up a little.

When the film isn't borrowing, it's collapsing of its own weight, slight though it may be. [28 Jul 1996, p.B4]

The ghastly first half of this romantic comedy -- is as close to unwatchable as any moment in "Bride Wars." The fact that it stars Renée Zellweger just makes it harder to bear.

The performances -- even those by Rosanna Arquette and Jeff Bridges, as Sarah and Scudder -- are simply trashy; they're throwaway stuff. [30 Apr 1986, p.C7]

Timeline gives Gigli serious competition for worst film of the year honors.

Gas -- the hot air variety -- is exactly what Driven is made of.

Pretentious, perplexing and plain rock-dumb movie.

Too inert to be titillating, too generic to be engaging.

Bloodsport offers some lurid but fascinating bits. Chief among them: Van Damme, his feet tied to two poles, performs horrifyingly painful splits. Otherwise, Bloodsport boasts bad acting, bad photography and a bad script. So much for the art of motion pictures. [03 May 1988, p.C4]

A surprisingly dull and witless film. [21 Jul 1984, p.C1]

How High is not a particularly good movie, but then again it's not trying to be. It's a project by two B-list rappers seeking to extend their music careers in the way of stars like Will Smith, Ice Cube and Tupac Shakur.

May be among the most excruciating mainstream movies to spew forth from Hollywood in years.

Too small to be a spectacle, too humorless to take seriously and too stupid to pass muster at a middle school writing workshop.

It is almost a prototypical action picture; there is never a moment when something isn't happening or about to happen, and the fact that most of the action makes no sense doesn't matter much when events move this fast. [27 Sep 1985, p.D7]