An incomprehensibly garbled, derivative attempt at a horror flick from first-time writer-director Todd Lincoln.

It isn't a movie - it's more like the world's most expensive, elaborate viral video, making a detour to the big screen before being broken up into more easily consumable segments to be consumed on YouTube.

Crazy Eyes is the third directorial effort from Adam Sherman, and is, like his 2010 "Happiness Runs," based on his own personal experiences, suggesting he either has a staggering sense of self-laceration or a just as noteworthy lack of awareness about audience empathy.

"Piranha 3D" was ridiculous, gory and fun, everything Piranha 3DD is not.

A party disaster movie targeted at kids who find the "Hangover" franchise too sophisticated.

The plot might be summed up this way: America's having a war, and everybody's invited!

As played by Heigl, Stephanie is mind-blowingly charmless.

Murky and perpetually bluish in tinge, Underworld: Awakening does and gets little with the 3-D in which it's being offered, and ends by shamelessly setting up a further and fatally unnecessary installment.

In another light the group's - and the film's - portentous resolution looks a lot like quitting, in true slacker style.

The film has the feel of something conceived and whipped together in very little time, perhaps to make its own built-in deadline.

This is a lumpy, dumb, suspenseless thing that sometimes scarcely feels finished.

It's not the addition of airships and male dangly earrings that make Paul W.S. Anderson's take on Alexandre Dumas' classic, much-adapted adventure such a drag, it's everything else - the incoherence, the anvil-heavy dialogue, the lack of anything beyond the broadest of characterizations.

That Bucky Larson's humor is stuck at a toilet-centric grade school level is less damning than how little of that or any humor it contains - the film, directed by Tom Brady (The Hot Chick), sets up scene after scene that wanders around in the general vicinity of a joke idea without ever approaching anything like a punchline.

To describe what unfolds as a slow burn is to be awfully generous.

The talking animals, though less tough to look at than those in "Marmaduke," are murder on the ears: Maya Rudolph as a neurotic giraffe and Sandler voicing a monkey could take the paint off of a Buick.

There's nothing in it to inspire excitement or even a mild glimmer of delight; it's almost offensive in its dullness.

Rubber could have been a modest horror novelty, a wicked, malevolent version of "The Red Balloon."

Punch manages to cram more slow motion into its first few minutes than a season of NFL highlights, all of "Inception" and every one of those NBC promos where the casts of whatever failing police procedural walk menacingly towards the camera.

Peep World barely seems like a movie. Withered and shrunken, it feels even too small for TV.

As you might have guessed from its title, Drinkers is as full of cheap sentimentality and predictable behavior as a Hell's Kitchen bar would have been in the 1970s.

Aside from a few arresting visuals, Red Riding Hood is just a slog through the woods.

It really is just sensory bombardment, and in two dimensions you have even less of a grasp of what's happening and of what you're looking at than the poor bastards on-screen.

Take Me Home Tonight isn't nearly as much fun as the '80s actually were. Even worse, it's less fun than most '80s comedies were - and that's bad.

If you've ever wondered how a bunch of blockheaded white boys would handle a bullet wound, you're in for a treat.

The Roommate has notched an unbelievable achievement; it makes the second rate "One Tree Hill" seems like it was about something.

It takes too long for the story to come around to the fact that Will is just plain nuts - and even then, he gets over it in a heartbeat.

The original "Saw" was smart enough to tease its audience, to literally restrain its characters and gradually dial up the dread, setting the table for a truly shocking twist. The latest just wants bigger and bigger bangs.

Skyline is a piece of junk, even in a movie climate littered with expensive - though sometimes fun - junkiness.