Made to win awards, and I'm here to present it with one: the Cliché of the Year honors, otherwise known as the Hackney.

Transporter 3 is made for airplane viewing, and not just any airplane: an Eastern European one, on the flight from Hrubbishnik to Slutnya.

"Rush Hour" was acceptable. It was to "Rush Hour 2" what McDonald's is to White Castle. "Rush Hour 2" is to Rush Hour 3 what White Castle is to cat food.

This intense psycho-sexual drama doesn't easily lend itself to the camera.

It's deeply frustrating to discover that this 2012 movie has precisely the same concerns as the ["The Women"] - appearance and men - with raunchy frankness about sex added and every trace of real wit siphoned out.

Heavy-handed, predictable and almost completely unbelievable.

A particularly gross exploitation of the Holocaust for financial gain.

The film as a whole goes from intriguing to irritating.

We watched a story of a Labrador. Who eats the couch and disobeys. I said to Lady, "It's a labra-bore."

Less fun than any circus movie I've ever seen - and I've seen lots. Maybe they should send in the clowns.

Essentially a downscale TV movie about spousal and child abuse.

Dopey as the film is on a plot level, it’s equally vapid in its psychology.

Rarely have I wanted to fast-forward through a movie as much as Click, a treacly and not-funny-enough Adam Sandler comedy.

Aside from these curious role reversals, though, Alex Cross is a mess. Drawing on every conceivable '80s B-movie action cliché and treating its beleaguered female characters like pieces of meat (literally, in one scene of butchery), director Rob Cohen squanders a surprisingly recognizable cast on a half-baked plot adapted from James Patterson's series of novels.

Goldblum's wobbly German accent and the staginess of the script doom this effort by Paul Schrader ("American Gigolo").

Even a hardened voyeur would require the patience of Job to get through this interminable, shapeless documentary about the swinging subculture.

A misguided exercise - a crude merger of "Fiddler on the Roof" and "Schindler's List" that somehow reminds you of "Hogan's Heroes."

Lust, Caution could have done with a lot more lust and a lot less caution.

At some point, this movie must have been a screenplay. But it's an enigma why anyone would bet tens of millions of dollars that people would laugh.

A misfiring black comedy oddly reminiscent of all those bad 1990s movies about strippers getting killed at bachelor parties.

I don't think he (Apatow) did enough research on his topic. Because no one could be as whiny, spoiled, tasteless, combative and reliant on annoying stand-up comedy riffs as the entire cast of this film, the most disappointing one of the year.

not so much a movie as an "act," one that belongs at a club called Shenanigans or maybe Chuckleheads.

It's like "Waiting for Guffman" without the wit or irony.

The voice work and the overly smooth animation mostly stink.

Its images came from a dusty box in the horror-movie attic, and the attic is where the entire picture will be in a month.

Even if Corben hadn't photographed Gatien with lighting that makes him look like a horror-movie villain, he'd hardly come off as innocent.

The plot goes nowhere glacially. Underdeveloped side characters are so far to the side, they’re out of frame.

A murky and morbid dirge of a gay romance.