The most disappointing aspect of Planet of the Apes is that, despite its presentation, the film is so very ordinary, without urgency or revelation.

A punishing tragedy that could best be described as the anti-"Shine."

Swordfish is exactly the kind of nominally high-octane actioner that breeds legions of apologists who will encourage you to "check your brain at the door" before seeing it.

For all its pretense of critiquing our tabloid culture, it amounts to much ado about nothing.

Vapid, humorless, screeching, and utterly suckworthy.

Far from creating a pungent portrait of a society gone mad with blood and greed, Schroeder's movie strives for political points while it's whiffing on simplicities like character, motivation, and believability.

The only reason to sit through On the Line is for some entertaining, if fleeting, musical moments.

Kids deserve better than this. They deserve more respect than P2K is willing to give for the price of a Saturday matinee.

Oddly, Bully's only moments of power come at the film's end, after the crime takes place.

A big disappointment. It's toe-tappin' tripe aimed squarely at the undiscerning Britney Spears set.

Whenever we're not at the ballpark, the film falls back on teenage relationship clichés. That's most of what's wrong with it, actually.

One more attempt to pass off chopped liver as foie gras.

It's dull, two-dimensional, and totally toothless.

A mockumentary about small-town beauty pageants that's so confidently unfunny it's DOA.

An absurdist semi-romance between two traumatized somnambulists.

This predictable romantic comedy outing has occasional flickers of ingenuity.

Messy, frantic, and repetitive, Everybody Famous! takes on both vapid pop culture and the mindless hoi polloi that consumes it.

Even Foxx's lively comedy is lost in the noise.

This one's all labor pains, and, in the end, nothing gets delivered.

Pie 2 has neither undercurrent, and hence what was passably cute the first time seems much more puerile and shrill here.

This is nothing more than one more run-of-the-mill, surprise-free, suspense programmer.

Struggles for any kind of movement and cohesion -- and most of all for any kind of humor.

Reitman has truly lost his gift for comic rhythms, cluttering up the film with running yuks that aren't that funny the first time and certainly don't improve with repetition.

By the time Rock Star reaches its cop-out, "All About Eve"-ish ending, the only thrashing that should be going on is of the filmmakers, for bungling such a promising premise.

Indulges in enough grubby histrionics and costume-adventure cliches to give you fifth-grade flashbacks.

What comes before and after the sound and fury of the bombing raid are reams of banal dialogue.

All that this really amounts to is a lot of hot-headed, hairy men threatening each other -- whenever they're not dancing on table tops, that is.

The most obvious casualty ends up being Jennifer Jason Leigh, an actress known for her fearless choices, who is literally pissed on for her trouble.