Feeble comic one-liners and slow pacing combine for a routine fangfest in this remake of the 1985 film.

Relentlessly depressing.

Overlong and grim to the point where some scenes are virtually unwatchable.

Drab, despairing and pointless.

Bright spots in The Greening of Whitney Brown are Bob the horse, a Gypsy Vanner who teaches Whitney about friendship and her rancher grandpa (Kris Kristofferson), who gets the Philly princess mucking out stalls.

A caper comedy that forgot to put in the laughs.

A better cast this time around — Michael Angarano, Milo Ventimiglia, Sofía Vergara and Max Casella, with cameos by Jason Alexander, Stanley Tucci and Hope Davis — tries to breathe life into Goldman’s cliché-ridden plot.

The bite and bark of Underdog are both pretty awful, but little kids might take this pooch for a walk.

Chop up the film’s segments, replay them in any order, and things would make no more or less sense.

The races of Trading Paint, however, are as exciting as a Ford Taurus trying to parallel park.

This morbid, cruel movie seems leached of all things that might inadvertently give viewers pleasure.

It's a shame that the book "We Were Soldiers Once . . . And Young" fell into the hands of writer-director Randall Wallace ("Braveheart"), a filmmaker who wouldn't recognize subtlety and understatement if they were to attack him in the street.

Boring and irritating, and also mildly offensive in its ignorant depiction of both Judaism and Catholicism.

Snowden could have been a character portrait, but instead it’s like “The Bourne Identity” minus the chases and fights, which is like a ham and cheese sandwich minus the ham and cheese. As a consequence, I suspect, this film will make no bread.

There's not much story but there are plenty of colorful, almost David Lynchian drug freakouts, as well as lots of sick violence.

The ingredients are there for a cute con game, but instead the movie turns out to be a mushy melodrama.

Indeed, one never doubts that cast and crew went into Wide Awake with anything but the best intentions. Yet, spiritual kiddie flick or not, one knows what the road to hell is paved with. [20 Mar 1998, p.50]

Uma Thurman plays a flying hero who might as well be called Not Funny Woman.

None of these seemingly plot-rich questions are explored; instead, we’re stuck with a greasy-haired Mark Ruffalo, as his detective character flounders along in their wake, muttering that he doesn’t have time for this magic crap.

Has its laughs, but pretty much every single one of them is in the trailer. And even more unfortunately, the improbable new romantic comedy team of Steve Carell and Keira Knightley works about as well as you'd guess - like oil and water.

A strange Gallic imitation of a Woody Allen comedy, replete with a neurotic older hero.

Another project whose narrative gets swallowed by its design.

Sherlock Holmes dumbs down a century-old synonym for intelligence with S&M gags, witless sarcasm, murky bombast and twirling action-hero moves that belong in a ninja flick.

We keep waiting for a story, or at least some comedy, but none ever materializes. The dialogue makes Algebra II seem fascinating by comparison.

Sarah's Key belongs to the Holocaust for Dummies section of Harvey Weinstein's History for Dummies series of mer etricious glossy dramas that ransack global events and turn them into middlebrow women's weepies to fill his trophy case.

The problem is that there's not a sympathetic character among the nasty, brutish males. And the women, except for a flashy cameo by a swimsuit-clad Paris Hilton, are given short shrift.

Provides a few minor thrills, but overall is talky and implausible.

Lethally dull and self-important remake.