Almodovar lets his movie become boring, and insufferably so.

It's not that Climax is a poorly made movie. It's that it's an abjectly mean movie. Some would try to excuse it as arthouse cinema. In reality, it's frighthouse cinema. And that's not meant as a compliment. The ultimate message, at least in this case: Just say no -- to Noé.

Beautifully shot, but terribly dull.

Every narrative twist is telegraphed, every dramatic choice is expected, every character is one-dimensional, and every scene of heightened emotion is built around tin-ear dialogue.

A tedious mock-medieval adventure yarn that's easily the worst film so far this year...Without a single clever line of dialogue (by contrast, Arnold Schwarzenegger's one-liners rank with Oscar Wilde's) or a story of even marginal coherence, the movie relies entirely on visual overkill to bludgeon the viewer into a state of comatose submission. [19 Feb 1993, p.L23]

The problem is that there's nothing of substance to hold together those occasionally fun moments of often-grotesque absurdity.

The fight sequences are briskly choreographed at least, gruesome though they are -- and, to be honest, that goes a long way in a film such as this. In fact they may be the only reason to see it, other than the chance to see Van Damme in full Col. Kurtz mode, all face-painted and droopy-eyed and bat-poop crazy.

"Fast and Furious" movies are supposed to be unchallenging, but Fate of the Furious is full-on brain-dead.

In other words, For a Good Time is not a good time. For that, you'll have to dust off your Nintendo and reacquaint yourself with "The Legend of Zelda" -- and hope that one of these days somebody can give "Bridesmaids" some real competition.

The United States vs. Billie Holiday presents Holiday as a victim and little more. Ignored is the fact that the self-destructive Holiday bears at least some culpability for the slow-motion tragedy that was her life — and for her all-too-early death at 44 years old. Daniels, who seems to have made the classic mistake of falling in love with his subject, apparently doesn’t have time for such nuance.

The new Superfly is, simply, a terrible movie. It is slick, and it boasts action, hot tunes and style to spare. But beyond the polish that a deep-pocketed studio backer can buy -- in this case, Sony's Columbia Pictures shingle -- this is a shamefully hollow movie that fails on multiple levels.

It feels more like a poor man's "Poltergeist, " minus the static-filled TV.

Unimaginative and painfully generic.

The sheer abundance of bare bosoms and coyly choreographed hanky-panky is exceeded only by the syrupy swell of violins at every climax. [06 Mar 1998, p.L31]

While it has its moments of passable action -- ends up feeling every bit as toothless as its dinosaurs are toothy.

No, Funeral Kings isn't quite dead on arrival -- but it's not too far from needing life support.

You can't just cast an appealing actress in the lead role -- in this case Queen Latifah ("Valentine's Day, " "The Secret Life of Bees") -- and expect her to do all the heavy lifting.

In the half-baked American Reunion, though, they might have accomplished what no previous chapter has: They might have just killed it.

There's little refreshing or charming about it.

There's really nothing definitive about Emperor. Or memorable, for that matter.

The chief problem with such gimmick films -- including Maniac -- is that storytelling so often takes a back seat to the gimmick du jour, resulting movie that can be interesting from a technical perspective but not nearly as compelling as one would want.

It features predictable humor and an underdeveloped story.

You'd never know, watching a loud, shrill, relentlessly stupid comedy called Airheads, that this 90-minute waste of celluloid is by Michael Lehmann, the ostensibly talented director of "Heathers," a wickedly sharp black comedy released in 1989. Unless, of course, you happen to recall that Lehmann is the same guy who more recently gave us the atrocious "Hudson Hawk." [5 Aug 1994, p.L26]

This is the kind of film that feels like a dream - but not in the good way. Rather, it resembles a dream in that it is made up of disjointed, loosely connected bits of surrealist craziness - ideas that might have seemed interesting in the twilight hours but that don't come close to standing up to the light of day.

What on Earth is Tom Berenger doing in a picture as awful as "Sniper"? [2 Feb 1993, p.D7]

But artistically interesting only takes a film so far. What it needs are laughs- - or at least a compelling narrative. It's got neither -- with the result being a film that arrives as dead as a certain parrot from a certain skit. One of the funny ones.

Where's a wooden stake when you need one?

A message movie that struggles mightily to make an impact but never comes close to capturing the gritty realism on which any blues singer builds his career.