A pathetic stoner comedy.

Utter junk.

This pursuit farce is harmless (if stale) entertainment, but the sledge-hammer attempt to appeal to the country's fastest-growing movie-going demographic makes for a clunky narrative and one-note characters.

As a narrative, Shem, directed by Caroline Roboh, is a pointless hodgepodge, with a finale that will leave viewers scratching their heads.

Ultimately, this throwback, made-for-TV-style film takes the easy way out in a cheesy climax, but its resolute quaintness may appeal to the kind of viewers who regard electricity as disturbingly newfangled.

By the time David gets someone to unleash the gas, I was wishing he could simply erase all memories of the sorry “Divergent’’ franchise.

Never rises much above yawn-worthy.

As for the script, a wittier director would have spotted the absurd elements and delivered a horror-comedy instead of a straight-faced bore.

Sandler's bizarrely clunky kiddie flick, is a sort of upside-down "Princess Bride."

That someone as smart as Duchovny would get bogged down in such predictable treacle is a mystery worthy of investigation by Scully and Mulder.

Screenwriter Tom Schulman, who won an Oscar for "Dead Poets Society," gives us a narrative reminiscent of a pup chasing its tail, as characters struggle to catch up with inexplicably chopping and changing motives.

Isn't as relentlessly vulgar or cartoonish as "The Ladies Man" - nor is it a whole lot more realistic.

Black loses control of Virginia as it lurches from political satire to unintended black comedy to mom-and-son melodrama. But the performances and the movie's sheer crazy audacity make it watchable.

You may call the film blingsploitation but its fun-loving hoodlums know who's fooling whom.

It's hoary and clunky even by the low standards of contemporary thrillers.

A ho-hummer of a "Speed" knockoff that will leave most audiences cold.

For parents of very young children looking for a weekend distraction, “Color City” is passable fare — and will at least inspire kiddies to finish what they start, coloring-wise.

Black was already the world's biggest little kid, and he might be the only actor who could have made this movie such nimble fun.

A soul-deadening mash-up of "Kill Bill," "Showgirls" and dozens of other better flicks that's not the least bit exciting or sexy, Zack Snyder's Sucker Punch is what happens when a studio gives carte blanche to a filmmaker who has absolutely nothing original or even coherent to say.

The tin-earned dialogue and haphazard plotting are more reminiscent of Tarantino's frequent collaborator Robert Rodriguez.

This may be the most politically confusing movie about that conflict since "For Whom the Bell Tolls" -- I couldn't for the life of me figure out where Escriva stood.

Love Happens is a weepie about the grieving process, mainly my own.

The script is so overstuffed with painfully obvious clues (the constant patina of sweat on the cocky doctor's face, for one) that we don't need the ominous rumbles on the soundtrack to tell us where we're headed.

The family at the center of "Catch" is likable and authentic, but the seriousness of their plight sits uneasily with the shoddily assembled escapist goof it generates.

Director Peter Chelsom (“Hannah Montana: The Movie”) and screenwriter Allan Loeb (“Collateral Beauty”) squander countless opportunities to make this fish-out-of-water story intellectually curious or even much fun.

RV stands for "Retread of 'Vacation,'" or possibly "Robin's Vehicle," but to me it's funnier than "National Lampoon's Vacation." I always found Chevy Chase's road trip more unpleasant than outrageous, but RV has laughs spilling out of its overhead bins.

A cheesy and unpleasant splatterfest.

It's the worst of both worlds as Disney cash cow Miley Cyrus makes the most dubious "dramatic" debut of any singer since Britney Spears.