Hoot peaks during its wordless opening credits sequence, which swoops delightfully around Florida scenery. That, the cute owls and the easygoing songs by Jimmy Buffett, who also plays one of Roy's teachers, are the only things worth your trouble.

The story never quite gets into the groove.

The film never pretends to be other than what it really is: soft-core porn for the ladies, diluted with an “R” rating.

The gospel according to The Gospel is this: There's a party at God's house, and you're invited.

A genially scattershot mockumentary.

For those of you who thought Al Pacino yukked it up too much as Jimmy Hoffa in “The Irishman,” get ready for this ham dinner.

Ron Howard's splendid The Da Vinci Code is the Holy Grail of summer blockbusters: a crackling, fast-moving thriller that's every bit as brainy and irresistible as Dan Brown's controversial bestseller.

Turns out to be formulaic and broad but also skillfully paced and big-hearted, with a sharp cast of comics that makes the most of a sunny script.

No phrase terrifies me more than “for the fans,” because in the movies that tends to mean “awful and incomprehensible.” And so it does for “Mortal Kombat II,” an onscreen bucket of slop that people will give a pass to because losers cheer whenever a character, such as they are, is impaled or sliced in half.

By far the best and cutest thing about How the Grinch Stole Christmas is the dog Max.

Exploitation curiosity.

Raises an interesting question. Do you clamp down on corporations in order to protect the environment or do you let them go about their business because they help feed countless families.

One of those exercises in romantic whimsy that misses its mark: It's alternately sappy and uncomfortably harsh.

Much of the movie's gentle charm comes from Mehta, the director's younger brother, making his acting debut.

The actors don't seem to have been directed at all, and the movie is very sluggishly paced.

A beautifully shot film with a funny French-twist ending.

Manages to create a creepy atmosphere, even if the plot itself is somewhat unfocused and the scares scarce.

Promoted as "the year's scariest movie," it's anything but.

Touches on issues raised in "Bad Education," but without Pedro Almodovar's flamboyant elegance.

You've seen him be funny on TV for nothing, but you'll have to shell out $10.75 to see Ray Romano unwrap a Subway sandwich.

Heavy on slapstick and may appeal to very young viewers who won't need to bother much with the subtitles.

No surprises here, though the stars make it surprisingly watchable.

Director-writer Seth Grossman provides a lazy narrative, with stereotypical characters and plot.

As for the magical-realist horns, they make a nice bad-boy look for Radcliffe and a handy plot device, but are never really explained in a satisfactory way. They have the side effect of making anyone who sees them immediately forget them — which I suspect may be the case with this movie as well.

She also doesn’t satisfy. At all. After experiencing Meg, you’ll crack open your Little Shark Book and call up Jaws.

For nearly two and a half hours, director Todd Phillips’ pathologically unnecessary movie cycles through so many potential reasons to exist. But, as “Deux” grows increasingly disturbing, repulsive and strange on the hunt, it ultimately never finds a satisfying one.

There is no way you could make this movie stupider or more pointlessly noisy than it already is.

Even at a supposed celebration, the well-bred and well-off aren't really happy at all. So the title is ironic. Thanks for that profound insight.