The watchability of Extreme Days can be mostly chalked up to Hannah's playful impulses -- and his cast's infectious camaraderie.

Dreadful demonic disaster.

The only thing about this movie that will haunt you is its boggling ineptitude.

As for genuine willies, well, chances are you've had more disturbing encounters with, say, a belligerent Shih Tzu.

Alas, for now we're at the mercy of a screenplay whose beats are too often as poorly calculated as the movie's title.

An earnest but fatally amateurish and stereotypical melodrama about fraternity hazing.

There aren't even any naked chicks in it. What the hell is up with that?

A peerless indignity, a club-footed vomit launch of teen-horror clichés, overproduced self-importance, and scareless gore.

This wretched jumbo helping of Christian Fundamentalist agitprop takes itself entirely too seriously to be anything but ploddingly dull.

Sitting through the film is like Chinese water torture, for sure, and for reasons beyond the forced, idiotic campiness of the thing. For one thing, there is not one word of dialogue.

Take the G out of Glitter and it's litter.

Gamer geeks, I speak your language! And I warn you: Flee! Or, at the very least, crank down any expectations you harbor -- a few notches below "zero" should do it -- before buying a ticket.

This is sub-par Aaron Spelling sludge all the way.

It's a gleefully unfettered gross-a-thon first --also second, third, fourth, fifth, sixth -- and a movie perhaps seventh.

There's nothing wrong with Down to You that a smart script and savvy direction couldn't cure.

It's a chilling piece of legal hysteria, and ripe for nasty farce. But Pooh plays it all for buffoonish pratfalls and fart jokes.

Whipped is cinematic suicide, if not for actor, then certainly for audience.

It's a lock to pile up the honors during Hollywood's annual awards season next spring (at the Golden Raspberries and the MTV Movie Awards).