Quite a slog, with most of the acting strictly amateurish save the veteran Ed Lauter as a fish and game inspector.

A twist ending does nothing to make the previous 85 minutes interesting.

Fans of the cartoon should stick around for Lewis’ after-credits sequence, which introduces a dastardly rival band. It’s the movie’s best scene, setting up a sequel we’ll never see.

A crude, manic and embarrassingly unfunny satire that feels off from beginning to end.

Second films in trilogies are often the toughest to pull off. Maybe Green’s final chapter, Halloween Ends, will redeem what he’s done here, which ultimately feels like very little progress at all.

If you want to punish your kids, send them to bed without dinner. If you want to disturb, frighten and depress them while making sure they fail biology, take them to the animated feature Barnyard.

Just because two people are miserable doesn’t mean they’re interesting.

This lame teenage James Bond will leave audiences neither shaken nor stirred.

A surprisingly tone-deaf combination of two wildly different stories that simply don’t work in concert.

Director Tom Harper (“War Book”) defaults too often to gotcha scares, which is disappointing.

Unfortunately, “Arthur” is rarely at its best, bogged down in countless CGI sequences of battlefields or monsters.

The result is an intermittently instructive and amusing jumble that might have been seen as daring and "transgressive" in both form and content if it had been released, say, three decades ago.

Fitfully funny at best, it's a sophomoric, facetious road comedy.

I wouldn't have thought it was possible to make a prison picture as utterly boring as Jailbait.

Last week I thought watching women take their clothes off was sexy. This week I saw A Wink and a Smile.

Splinterheads might suffice some late night on cable, but that's about it.

On the plus side, Derek McKane's moody camerawork makes Gotham look grand. Too bad it's wasted on The Last New Yorker.

The landscapes are exotic and Kilcher is erotic, but the film plays like a generic made-for-TV biopic.

UH-UH. Non. Nein. Negative. Sept. 11 is not to be used as the setup for a cheesy disaster prophecy flick.

With cheesy-looking effects including a ride on the backs of giant bees and dubious literary references, Journey 2: The Mysterious Island comes dangerously close to giving books, never mind 3-D, a bad name.

The film is Beverly Hills Chihuahua. The audience is the fire hydrant.

If you're looking for a movie you can take your parents or young children to without fear of embarrassment or the need for endless explanations, this is the one.

Never-quite-believable crime drama.

A slumber-party classic that belongs on the same shelf as "Bring It On" and "10 Things I Hate About You." This high-school comedy should do for its 20-year-old star, Brittany Snow, what those movies did for Kirsten Dunst and Julia Stiles.

Holmes, with Alice Cooper hair and crazy Jim Carrey eyes, looks terrible and acts worse, unless this movie is unintentionally a lobotomy documentary. Whatever could have happened to her in the last couple of years to zap the talent out of her like this?

The parallels between the kids' war and the real one are made far too obvious by Christophe Barratier, who made the equally treacly "The Chorus" and infests the movie with nonstop musical goo.

Comes off as nothing more than a TV soap opera, with overwrought acting, simplistic dialogue and a generic plot.

The whole movie is so ineptly written and directed that its 90 minutes seem to take twice as long.

Heck, it's great to have the big guy back.

While it certainly isn't good, Expecting isn't as charmless as you might have feared, largely due to a cast working furiously to sell every scene.

The Rock arrives with the power of a pebble in the new action movie “Black Adam,” in which the popular star plays the titular anti-hero in his first solo outing. It’s just as thoughtless and rancid as the rest of DC Comics’ crummy catalog.

Watching the film, I did manage to retain my empathy for the narrator, though: I was as desperate as he was to escape the situation I was in.

It's hard to say what's worse in the strange Portuguese drama Two Drifters: the insufferable wordless stretches, or the sudsy dialogue.

Willis is at his relaxed best this time.

It’s a pleasant watch with some solid jokes.

Writer-director Kay Cannon has shattered Cinderella’s glass slipper. And we, the audience, are forced to walk across the shards barefoot.

A cast almost talented enough to distract you from Ted Griffin's gimmicky screenplay.

Entertainingly gruesome in parts, and not without a certain anarchic wit, it’s the kind of movie you pause to watch when it’s on TV, but after half an hour, you’ll click over to something else.

The movie pretty much exists to sell tie-in products, and it's about as entertaining as watching little kids playing with their toys in the sandbox.

It makes "Top Gun" look like the work of Orson Welles. At least the Tom Cruise movie remembered to cast actual actors.

Harmless, fish-out-of-water fluff.

You don't have to be gay or Italian or live in Canada to enjoy Mambo Italiano, but a tolerance for ethnic mugging helps.

It's a simple-minded celebration of speed that pretends to be nothing else, even throwing in the occasional wink to acknowledge its own silliness.

A sporadically amusing curiosity that falls short of effectively satirizing the public's fixation with the minutiae of celebrity lives.

Although a quick summary would suggest that Our Little Secret is the simplest and most domestic of Lohan’s trilogy of terror, the devices that lead to its wrap-up are anything but Hallmark happy.

What puts the bonkers premise of Home Again inside the realm of possibility is the brilliant casting of Candice Bergen as Witherspoon’s mom, a former cinema siren.

The charming cast...brightens up the screen, but the TV-sitcom script does them in.

The ending means to stir our emotions, and it does inspire one: relief that it’s over.

An exceedingly silly historical fantasy.

There's also a refreshing lack of wrapping everything up in a neat, happy bow at the end.

There's plenty of material here for a dark comedy, but director Martin Curland isn't up to the job. His film - like Luke - plods along, unsure of exactly what it's supposed to be.

After a wickedly promising start, this pointed political satire quickly deteriorates into a fairly routine, if sporadically quite effective, home-invasion thriller.

Shoot ’em up, run ’em over, blast ’em with flame-throwers, who cares? These creatures are only there to go splat.

Painful, misshapen and a little gross. It's an enlarged prostate of a movie.

It's a nice, mud-free way to spend a bit of time rocking out in the rain with the Scots.

Calling Child 44 a mash-up of “Dr. Zhivago” and “Silence of the Lambs” doesn’t do enough to capture how strange it is.

This painfully unfunny mockumentary about obsessive collectors of frozen-food entrees takes potshots at anti-abortionists, Christian rockers, aversion therapy for gays and the disabled -- and misses almost every time.

Ride Along tries to be a comic version of “Training Day,” only there’s nothing in it as funny as Denzel razzing Ethan. There’s nothing much funny in it at all.

The insult comedy is sometimes brilliant.

Among cutesy pop musical trios aimed at nondiscerning audiences, I'll take Alvin and Co. over the Jonas Brothers any day.

Daniel Lee’s elaborate Chinese historical action epic Dragon Blade certainly gets points for creative casting, as well as its gorgeous widescreen visuals.

Indeed, Clancy has written 20 books featuring John Clark. But, even with a star as charismatic and physically formidable as Jordan, audiences won’t be hungry for a single sequel.

Never amounts to anything more than a rambling, studenty exercise in undergraduate cinema vérité. Some expressive, arty photography and a mildly satiric attitude toward stage poseurs do little to make the picture bearable.

Recalling the lesson about bringing a knife to a gun fight, a British documentary filmmaker brings a spoon to a hatchet job in the film Sarah Palin: You Betcha!

Prime date fare, but cotton-candy light and occasionally just a little too whimsical.

A non-starter.

Should have gone straight to video. It'll be there soon enough.

Laughs are few and far between, and the film feels brutally long.

The cheap-looking special effects, embarrassingly clunky attempts at humor and one-dimensional characters are bad enough, but the PG-rated movie's most offensive crime is its uncomfortably lewd interactions between adults and kids.

It says a lot about the sequel that the funniest moment belongs to none of the big stars, but to Owen Wilson.

Even for a surreal black comedy, Jesus Henry Christ requires massive suspension of disbelief.

On paper, “Moonfall” has all the hallmarks of an Emmerich blockbuster — natural disasters, parents separated from children, the total annihilation of Manhattan — but with a twist so baffling, you pinch your arm to make sure you are really awake. No need to reach for your dream journal — it’s all painfully real.

A dopey psychological thriller that combines elements of “The Sixth Sense” with an overbearing sentimentality, The 9th Life of Louis Drax flat-lines from beginning to end.

Most of the movie's plot becomes obvious before you even meet the brother, 10 minutes into it. Even the sex scenes turn out to be tasteful and tame. You've seen hotter stuff on Oxygen.

A heist comedy in which the audience gets robbed.

This unapologetic B-movie at least keeps the action rolling, and the time goes by quickly. To put it another way, I’d rather see Gerard Butler stab a terrorist in the neck than flirt with Katherine Heigl.

I do get a chuckle out of movies with wildly inappropriate behavior, rude language and ultramayhem, especially when they involve children, but Kick-Ass 2 sometimes felt like being trapped in a room with the funniest guy in seventh grade.

The birth of the titular infant — what the whole movie’s leading up to — is just an anticlimactic mess.

It’s unspeakably depressing to see Anna Paquin playing the mom (of a teenager!), but the pointlessness and mediocrity of the Paquin-produced Free Ride is even more depressing.

A film so self-serious that it demands to be remade as a Seth MacFarlane farce, The Truth About Emanuel mixes the ludicrous and the pretentious in a story about mommy issues gone wild.

A trite, incoherent and pretentious bomb.

The movie’s one saving grace — so to speak — is Raymond Cruz (Tuco from “Better Call Saul”) as a priest turned shaman. He, at least, injects a little wry humor into a film that otherwise bored me to tears.

Spun is quickly exposed as being all flash, no substance.

A campy, brightly colored musical comedy.

Crude and cheerfully sophomoric teen sex comedy.

The last time I saw this much talent in a losing cause was Super Bowl XLII. Trying to mix farce with heart, Drillbit Taylor is instead as soulful as Kenny G and as wacky as public television.

Such a comedy cannot depend solely on its supporting cast, especially when they’re tasked with lifting up subpar material.

A campy guilty pleasure that serves up a “Gladiator’’ knockoff as an appetizer to the impressively flame-filled main course.

Stoned carries a freaked-out buzz of nostalgia for the era when celebs willfully destroyed themselves for our amusement.

Alas, the complications don't arrive nearly quickly enough for the overlong and slow-paced Lucky to really cook.

The long-gestating thriller The Woman in the Window, based on A.J. Finn’s novel, is here, and it sure is dusty.

Only the French could or would make a movie like this. You'll enjoy it if you turn off your brain and concentrate on the eye candy.

Nearly as good as the average episode of TV’s “Friday Nights Lights,” which makes it better than most movies and one of the better sports films of recent years.

One of that film's funniest performers, John Michael Higgins, is on hand as a maniacal European celebrity handler who keeps swearing, "I am no homoist."

If the filmmakers had spent $14.98 of that $100 mil on a DVD of "The Mummy," they might have learned a few things: You need a head villain who is surpassingly evil, you need some jokes that get laughs - and a few sword-fighting skeletons wouldn't hurt.

This is one of those movies that's too cool to have a plot.

The dreadful acting, direction and script make Nowhere Man a nowhere movie.

A lukewarm film about what might happen to three New York City friends if the draft were reinstated, proves that even the most controversial of topics can be the basis for the dullest indie films.