A painfully sincere indie drama that isn't content to evoke only the misery of 9/11 -- it has to reference TWA Flight 800 for extra grief.

A perfectly enjoyable sci-fi thriller.

The dreary, direct-to-video quality of the script, acting and cinematography in this latest entry seemed to inspire more yawns than screams, and not a few titters.

Semicoherent.

A cut-rate ripoff of "Aeon Flux" with Milla Jovovich as a butt-kicking futuristic heroine in a midriff-baring bodysuit, is ultrastupid, ultra-incoherent, ultrasilly - and way, way ultraboring.

A skin-crawlingly unfunny riff on Woody Allen's "Bananas."

For one thing, it goes on too long. But it looks good, the cast is perky.

The problem with Gigli is that it is an inept attempt to do Elmore Leonard by Martin Brest, a filmmaker whose coarse sensibility makes him catastrophically unqualified to the task.

Not as bad as rumor would have it. It's worse.

Boring and desperately unfunny.

Even dumber than Perry's "Three to Tango," this latest sitcommy exercise is sporadically funny in spite of itself -- and not quite as dreadful as you would suspect.

John Travolta’s new film is a lot like “Misery” — just without the acclaim.

A pathetically unfunny comedy that should have been shipped straight to video, if not recycled as guitar picks.

If you mashed-up the worst parts of the infamous "Howard the Duck,'' "Gigli,'' "Ishtar'' and every other awful movie I've seen since I started reviewing professionally in 1981, it wouldn't begin to approach the sheer soul-sucking badness of the cringe-inducing Movie 43.

Fairly cringe-inducing, full of witless double-entendres and the requisite "gags" involving bodily fluids.

James Purefoy (“The Following”) makes a pretty decent bad guy. Olga Kurylenko (“The Water Diviner”) is passable as an action heroine. Neither of those facts makes Momentum any fun to sit through, crammed as it is with leaden dialogue and predictable plot turns.

Misconceived, bloated and incredibly ugly fantasy epic.

Features less than 10 minutes of music in its mercifully brief 83-minute running time.

The cinematic equivalent of a paper plate with macaroni and glitter haphazardly glued onto it, Mother’s Day is a film only its creators could love (and even they must be having some misgivings).

Stick a fork in Nia Vardalos. I've been to funerals that were a lot more fun than I Hate Valentine's Day, her second alleged romantic comedy in less than a month.

An intriguing sci-fi thriller, but in the end it doesn’t do enough with its ideas.

88 Minutes holds you in a state of acute suspense, keeping you wondering until the very last minute whether this is the worst Al Pacino movie ever made.

It's hard to believe that the distributors of See No Evil were so afraid of what critics would say about their movie that they refused to provide advance screenings. The movie's target viewers aren't the type who read reviews, if they read at all.

There is plenty of blame to go around for this laughless mess.

A pathetically inane and unimaginative cross between "XXX" and "Vertical Limit," it could only harm the careers of everyone involved in its making - including top British stage actors Rufus Sewell and Rupert Graves.

Sick, disgusting and vile. It's also demonically funny, stylish and ingenious.

Mostly ludicrous, but occasionally effective.

Stars Carmine Famiglietti, Joseph Summa and Gino Cafarelli apparently also wrote Chooch and directed it under a trio of aliases. They shoulda applied to the witness-protection program instead.

Grotesquely unfunny comedy.

This female revenge thriller starts out promisingly, but squanders its girl-power capital quicker than you can say "Rihanna."

A good cast can't save The Lodger, the utterly wrongheaded fourth movie version of a 1910 novel inspired by Jack the Ripper.

Larry the Cable Guy channels both Moe and Curly in the Three Stooges-go-to-war comedy Delta Farce.

This spoof of "The Da Vinci Code," "Pirates of the Caribbean," "Harry Potter," "The Chronicles of Narnia" and other recent blockbusters piles up sex gags, toilet gags and make-you-gag gags.

Putting it as kindly as possible, this pitiful romantic comedy directed by Scott Marshall (dad Garry did "Pretty Woman'') peaks with its animated opening credits.

Sony dumped this sleazy, inept and worthless piece of torture porn into theaters yesterday.

Predictable, rarely scary.

Sirius requires a religious faith in the notion that the same government that can barely get it together to raise the debt ceiling can suppress all evidence of aliens, via means such as engineering 9/11 as a distraction when Greer got too close to proving his case.

You cease to care as they fall back on a catalogue of clichéd shocks, tired camera angles and an ever-mounting gore quotient.

Dennis Rodman isn't half bad as a blond, multiply pierced Interpol agent.

There are some surprisingly attractive shots in director Rhys Frake-Waterfield’s low-budget film — honey drips from Winnie’s mouth in a sadistic “Silence of the Lambs” way — and the acting is committed rather than arch (even if the dialogue is lousy-to-inaudible). Yet it is impossible to recommend to the average horror fan in search of a good movie.

A low-rent, slow-witted horror flick notable chiefly for its hilariously unsuccessful attempt to pass off Luxembourg City as New York City.

Sort of "West Side Story" set in 1958 Brooklyn -- minus the music or competent storytelling -- is clearly not dealing from anything close to a full deck.

The only pro involved in this amateurish labor of love is veteran character actor Arthur Nascarella, cast as Jack's florist father.

Atrociously written.

A dumb, by-the-numbers children's movie.

Much of Tomcats is actually boisterously, crudely entertaining.

Nasty, borderline bigoted, stunningly amateurish film.

Brain-dead variant of "Risky Business."

Exploitative rubbish.

Give director Paul Borghese credit for daring in giving his movie a title that evokes Sergio Leone’s two most famous epics. The trouble with doing that, of course, is that you better be prepared to deliver a movie on the same level.

"I need something bad and fast,” criminal Graham Bricke says to a weapons dealer early in The Last Days of American Crime. The Netflix action film definitely fulfills one of those criteria: It is so, so bad — but it is ever eye-gougingly slow.

The overall result is superficial and deadly boring.

Based on a video game, far exceeds expectations -- in negative ways that inspire thoughts of less than zero stars.

The latest vanity production by writer-director-star Eric Schaeffer, who still seems to think he's another Woody Allen -- despite a growing body of work that proves otherwise.

The promising tension between Gypsy and the arrogant Lucian never amounts to much, and the climax is comically melodramatic.

This oddly scrambled new version eventually falls apart so badly you feel embarrassed for the people who made it.

With the abysmal A Little Bit of Heaven, Kate Hudson's possibly unprecedented losing streak remains unbroken: She hasn't made a good movie since Almost Famous, 12 long years ago. Even Nicolas Cage can't say that.

Presumably Zane & Co. had a lot more fun filming this inexplicable low-budget indulgence than any sane person will have watching it.

An inept, tedious spoof of '70s kung fu pictures, it contains almost enough chuckles for a three-minute sketch, and no more.

Arguably the most insipid movie released so far this century.

Helplessly clichéd, predictable and unaware of its own lameness, it could easily become a camp classic on the order of "Grease 2" and "Sergeant Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band."

Tacky-looking, incoherent, badly acted and hopelessly directed disaster is easily the dullest adventure film of 2000.

It makes so little sense on-screen that all you can do is nod along vaguely sympathetically at its sheer creative bravado.

A laughably bad B-thriller.

Except for Brolin as an unlikely born-again Jew, nobody fares well under Mulroney's ham-fisted direction.

A comedy for no ages, has an amazing amount of CGI - Cuba Gooding Incompetence.

So awful it qualifies as cruel and unusual punishment.

Makes little attempt to be credible or original. And the acting is poor.

Is it never funny? No, it’s not never funny. It’s just not funny nearly often enough.

Stinko movies often unwittingly critique themselves -- and the brain-dead romantic comedy Down to You (which Miramax understandably didn't screen in advance for critics) is no exception.

Aspires to be a highly stylized exploration of the mind of a serial killer, but it's nothing more than a gory, bloodsoaked snuff film, reveling in its own shock value.

Director Anthony Leonardi, in his feature debut, litters the film with inconsistencies.

It’s not great art (in fact, it’s pretty low-rent CGI), but it’s passably entertaining.

Unwatchably bad.

Please restore my eyes to factory settings. They have seen The Emoji Movie, a new exercise in soulless branding, aimed primarily at little kids.

So patchy in its laughs, so calculated in its grossness and so lacking in genuine comic exuberance, it makes you look at "Road Trip" in an admiring new light.

So unremittingly awful that labeling it a dog probably constitutes cruelty to canines.

No one but a convict guilty of some truly heinous crime should have to sit through The Master of Disguise, an unbearably tedious and unfunny comedy.

The toilet caper is the lowest point of a movie with many low points, including bad acting and a generic script.

None of this is remotely funny.

The Lord works in mysterious ways but Persecuted works in blundering, obvious ways, straining a Christianity-under-attack theme through a dopey thriller.

A criminally slow, all-but-laughless blaxploitation comedy.

A collection of throwaway gags from other movies, a big blue recycling barrel of comedy waiting for the trash collector. It's rated PG-13 because 13 is the maximum age of those who might find it funny.

Loud, crass and full of slapstick humor that the Three Stooges would be ashamed of. And it is almost completely lacking in charm and nuance.

This is a horror movie that’s really a supposed comedy; she’s (Lohan) a supposed comedy actress who’s actually scary.

Biehn has appeared in dozens of B-movies and evidently had no greater ambition than to come up with a grindhouse movie full of sex, gore and cheap thrills, but there is far too little of any of these to maintain interest in a straight-on story that reserves its only surprise for the final 30 seconds.

Initially amusing but finally sour sex comedy.

A genuine oddity that's more watchable than it sounds.

As if the witless cultural stereotypes weren't bad enough, misogyny is rampant -- bare-breasted women abound, yet the protagonist remains fully clothed while having a bullet removed from his butt.

Goes from being tediously terrible to downright gigglesome.

Spectacularly awful.

The movie is so inept - with its flat characters, histrionic acting, dull dialogue ("Killing him is not going to change anything"), a dreadfully overdone musical score and la-la-la flashbacks starring the kid - that its clichés grow slightly funny. But not funny enough to make the endless torture scenes bearable.

Just Tara-ble.

It is a remarkably unattractive-looking movie. I don’t know when people voted that the seasick look of an iPhone video is now a desirable style.

The rest of the cast is uniformly awful, including Carmen Electra and Kathy Griffin as a wacky medium who asks, "What do I look like? A comedian?" Not from where I'm sitting.

A low-end scam by Lions Gate Films -- whose recent "The Wash" was a masterpiece by comparison.

Schwartz throws in so many characters and implausible subplots - none worth mentioning - that Perception sinks under its own weight.

For a horny-road-trip flick that's actually funny, check out last year's "Sex Drive," which just came out on video.