A clumsy, witless cartoon version of E.B. White's rather uncelebrated children's story.

So wretched that it practically defies description.

Hard to watch -- not because of its unflinching realism, but rather for its mawkish reliance on every boy hooker flick from "Midnight Cowboy" to "Johns."

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

Should be shot at sunrise. Or strung up by the neck from a tall tree. Or at least run out of town by a big posse.

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.

The backdrop of exotic pagodas and wartime woe isn't nearly potent enough to buoy the feeble drama that plays out in the foreground.

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

The Forsaken discourages one from caring in the least how its breed of vein-tappers came to be, or even what will happen if they take over the world.

Once the action starts to kick in, Megiddo morphs, minute by minute and scene by scene, into a Mystery Science Theater smorgasbord.

Slow as a funeral dirge, the movie's all talk about art and passion and obsession without anything to show for it.

An early scene inside a theater seems intended to wink at Sin's critics: "Disgusting! Cheap melodrama," a lady sniffs during intermission. It's a neatly reflexive acknowledgement of what we ourselves are watching, but even at that, our filmmaker is praising himself too extravagantly by half.

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

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

Yet another leaden, witless, cliché-drunk, teen romantic comedy starring the preposterously good-looking stars of mediocre TV series.

I'd write it all off as something that is, after all, intended for young viewers -- but then I'd be insulting their intelligence as cruelly as the movie does.

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

A trial of cliche, strained optimism, and dire quasi-comedy.

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

Such a witless, bombastic, by-the-numbers hunk of millennial hooey it made me nostalgic for Commando. This one throws in every hoary hellfire cliché.

This poor movie is like an abandoned car without plates: Nobody wants to admit it's theirs.

Dracula 2000 is a stake in the heart.

Greenaway has hit a brick wall, and it's no fun to watch.

Thinking (logically or otherwise) about this movie is a waste of your brain cells.

Go see this movie and you'll be...yup. You should save your money; Norm Macdonald should save his career, by quitting movies altogether.

Struggles like a fat kid on the gym rope to conjure up even a single decent laugh.

First the TV show, then the video games, the playing cards, the books, the clothes, and now the movie -- the dreaded movie.

Virtually unwatchable.