The latest labored take on the old British legend, Robin Hood is little more than a pitch-black war film, complete with rudimentary medieval bombs and blood spatter on the camera lens.

This mostly laugh-and scare-free turkey offers an utterly bored -- and boring -- Eddie Murphy taking a back seat to special effects, elaborate sets and a wispy story slapped together by David Berenbaum (the overrated "Elf").

Charmless and underdeveloped knockoff of "The Santa Clause."

It's so incoherent that at first you wonder if the reels are being shown out of order.

Relentlessly grim.

The laziness of this filmmaking (which assumes you know that Gray killed himself in 2004) is of a piece with the emphatically uninteresting tales told by a classic dinner-party bore who once referred to his ramblings as "creative narcissism." He was half-right.

There is virtually nothing in Mac Carter’s horror flick that deviates from the standard haunted house plot (or, in this case, plod).

The climax is as dull as reading the dictionary of a language you do not speak.

Family Tree, which seems to have been written using indie-film Mad Libs, devolves into way too many quirky subplots.

The acting, script and direction - not to mention the syrupy score - conspire to make this a perfect storm of a hoot that will find its most appreciative audience among renters who have had a few glasses of wine beforehand.

An exceedingly silly historical fantasy.

A lobotomized attempt to make a no-budget John Waters movie, Men Cry Bullets is a painful reminder of just how bad indie cinema can be - especially when it plays with gender roles. It's desperately unfunny and dreadfully acted, written and directed.

A wan effort at "Annie Hall"-style comedy, has about as much Manhattan sophistication as a gas station in Chippewa Falls, Wis.

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.

At its best, the movie is an unbearably precious slice of stale imitation Wes Anderson. But at its worst, it's dull and strangled by its own would-be jaunty deadpan.

Watching Robin Williams as a pastor giving premarital counseling to lovebirds John Krasinski and Mandy Moore in License to Wed is like having a laugh chastity belt cinched up tight around your funny bone.

A 2 1/2-year-old collection of mediocre stand-up routines and dull backstage chatter, Vince Vaughn's Wild West Comedy Show demonstrates why comedy clubs require you to have a couple of drinks.

It largely consists of Franco musing about depictions of homosexual activity on film. As well as gay cast members speculating whether Franco will take off his clothes and perform in explicit footage. He doesn’t.

Draft Day is lumbering and predictable, and its hero general manager is so dumb it should have been called “Dummyball.”

Like some hybrid beast out of Greek mythology, this young-adult sequel has the body of a “Harry Potter,” the head of a “Twilight,” the feet of a “Hunger Games” and the tail, oddly, of a “Raiders of the Lost Ark.”

A big, incoherent bore, interesting only as an example of assembly-line movie-making gone awry.

Some of the powerful characters you thought were good are evil and vice versa. It’s like “Wicked,” but wretched.

How can it be that a movie as beautiful to look at as Saawariya is so . . . boring?

Fifty Shades will make you dumber.

The characters are so wacky you don’t believe them as killers or strategists or even just bystanders who are in the right place at the right time. You simply don’t buy anything about them. Ever.

A loud, coarse and witless family comedy.

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

Japan's Takashi Miike has the formula down pat, but Eisener has no idea how to give violence a touch of class.