Hype Williams is a trend-setting music video director who has decided to take the plunge into feature films. One devoutly wishes he hadn't. [06 Nov 1998, p.L31]

As his character’s cognitive abilities decline, Neeson’s repeated on-a-dime transition from killing machine to stuttering, doddering pawpaw — and then back again — feels eye-rollingly, almost offensively contrived.

At last! - a movie that combines the most lurid and irresponsible aspects of the "Mandingo" black-exploitation yarns of the '70s with the gratuitous violence and ubiquitous gore of today's horror cheapies. [17 Mar 1995, p.L34]

A textbook example of ye olde two-joke movie.

The characters aren't fully formed enough to care about, the humor is baseball-bat dull, and the story - such as it is - is never treated as anything more than a half-hearted means to get the audiences from one spectacular snuffing to the next.

While infants and imbeciles might get caught up in whirlwind action, most viewers should brace themselves for a less-than-wondrous return to Wonderland.

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.

One other problem. Parodying movies like "Basic" and "Attraction" is an inherently dicey proposition. After all, such oversexed morality tales are practically parody themselves. [2 Nov 1993, p.C10]

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

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 we end up with is a meandering mishmash of tasteless jokes and a tendency for extended non sequitur riffs.

Nobody has an excuse for being surprised by how low Sandler and company stoop in That's My Boy.

This is an alternate-history rock 'n' roll saga. It is not Elvis, but Elvis-ish.

While it shows fleeting moments of promise, there's precious little great about The Great Wall. Instead, it should be called "The Ridiculous Wall."

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.

Unimaginative and painfully generic.

Gritty to the point of sleazy, the noir-tinged Bayou Caviar shows flashes of visual flair, and Gooding -- who wrote the screenplay in addition to directing and starring -- demonstrates he’s still got the sort of screen presence and million-dollar smile that made him a star some 27 years ago. Beyond that, however, Bayou Caviar is a thoroughly nasty and messily plotted affair, a straight-to-VOD crime drama that slips and slides around in its own ooze for at least 20 minutes too long.

Sometimes it's stupid-funny, but mostly it's just plain stupid. And sloppy.

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

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

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

It so shamelessly borrows from so many other movies, and then does absolutely nothing to add to them -- nothing to raise the bar, nothing to make it more interesting, and really nothing to make it the least bit appealing.

This blunt-edged, in-your-face comedy, however, is simply too obtuse to provide enjoyment for post-adolescent viewers. (Youngsters, I suspect, will eat it up.) Its mile-a-minute gag attempts yield groans far more frequently than laughs, and its humor is so unsubtly deadpan as to undercut the wit that lurks behind its premise. [9 Feb 1993, p.D7]

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.

Lazy and stupid and unwilling to put forth the effort needed to distinguish itself even from a mediocre Internet video, it all amounts to a forgettable, slapdash bit of comedic nothingness.

It features predictable humor and an underdeveloped story.

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

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.