A laughable disaster: an agonizingly long, perversely dull, childishly conceived fantasia on marital sexual angst that could only have been made by someone (like Kubrick).

As an audience member, you end up feeling like a sucker for even having tolerated that sickly sweet notion about a father, a son, and their silly radio.

The biggest piece of supernatural hooey since estranged wife Demi Moore's "The Seventh Sign."

Plays like mediocre outtakes from better bell-bottomed fare (Richard Linklater's authentic, seriocomic "Dazed and Confused"; Fox's "That '70s Show") without making any kind of impression of its own.

Even if the antic futility of attempting to get an entire shtetl to pull together in the face of genocide is your idea of a day at the races, don't laugh too hard -- the out-of-nowhere ending will make you choke on every chuckle.

It's a warped kind of romantic comedy in which the whole is substantially less than the sum of the parts.

This self-consciously kooky road movie about an unusual trio of bank robbers aims for Hal Ashby misanthropy, but hasn't a single emotionally grounded or plausible moment to justify its purely cinematic eccentricities.

An orgy of bad decisions and cheap ideas.

As though fatalistically compelled, all three leads self-destruct: Li is as flat, colorless, and stiff as a panel of Sheetrock, Karyo plays his every syllable in overdrive, and Fonda seems trapped in the midst of a failed screen test for Pretty Woman II.

If you're desperate for a James Bond fix, skip the movie and blow your 007 bucks on a copy of the soundtrack.

Invoking unpleasant memories of "Caligula" (only without the sex), Titus does no justice to Shakespeare.

The narrative disjointedness is not at all relieved by confusing editing, an uncertain tone, and a dragging pace that makes the film a progressively dreary experience.

The total lack of sexual chemistry between them doesn't help. Frankly, I'd rather see Scott Thomas play a nun than sit through another one of these turgid romancers.

Appears to have been written and directed by a grade-school dropout snorting airplane glue.

A ponderous stage adaptation that expends only the mildest effort to overcome its staginess.

If Lee's intention was to cement our loathing of blackface comedy, he's succeeded all too well.

An aimless, pointless dawdle.

A preachy, monotonous failure hyped as a follow-up to his incendiary 1991 debut, "Boyz N the Hood."

Giuseppe Tornatore has long been a master of cheap sentiment ("Cinema Paradiso," " The Legend of 1900"), but his latest film is his most shallow, reprehensible exercise in nostalgia to date.

So desperate to be rebellious and cool, that it's impossible to see it as anything more than one big case of "been there, done that" -- even if your drugs have already kicked in.

Dim and eye-rollingly foolish -- Call it Dumb, Dumber, Dumber Still, and Dumbest.

Hamilton's quasi-Luddite tale doesn't make a coherent movie under the best of circumstances, and these were, apparently, something substantially less than that.

This is nothing more than a bare-assed fart in the face of Smith's fans.

Pushes the standard tropes of gay romance movies a few more steps toward full-blown cliché-dom.

Has its share of small pleasures.

Populated with whiny, unappealing characters that are impossible to care about and flatly staged sitcomish set-pieces...this lame Canadian import's a real woofer.

An empty reminder that Martin Lawrence can be pretty funny, in a spastic, loose-limbed way -- maybe next time he'll get a worthwhile script.

One of our very few consummate movie star actors, Washington can't quite elevate this dismal material as he's been able to do in the past, but he retains his dignity.