Directed without wit or energy.

Incoherent, laugh-free comedy.

A drippy romance that makes Nicholas Sparks look like Leo Tolstoy.

An Iranian comedian named Omad Djalili plays Picasso, that sexually combustible Spanish bull, with all the earth-shaking allure of, say, Andy Richter.

A smarmy, smirky but ultimately boring film.

This overlong drama plays like a threefold infomercial: for Christianity, the cheesy resort chain Sandals and Jeff “Ja Rule” Atkins, the rapper-turned-actor playing drug kingpin Miles Montego.

Featuring eyeball-rolling performances by Vivica A. Fox, Patti LaBelle, Clifton Davis and the singularly named Leon, Cover would be a candidate for the year's most unintentionally funny movie so far - if it weren't also the most homophobic.

Even duller than the original, but will fulfill its function as a feature-length commercial for Pokemon merchandise.

Scary Movie 4 concludes by satirizing Cruise's couch-jumping orgy on "Oprah." Funny, but nowhere near as hilarious as the real thing.

Dire musical interludes are sprinkled throughout the sprawling mess Beloved, an uninvolving would-be romantic epic that spans 45 years in the life of a mother and her daughter, starting in the early 1960s.

Lazy, shallow and repetitive, Phil Donahue's Body of War is one of the most incompetent documentaries to emerge from the Iraq war.

Anyone interested in this remarkably prolific author would be better off visiting a library or bookshop.

Not even Sandra Oh, as Phoebe's boss, and Elodie Bouchez ("The Dreamlife of Angels"), as Ashade's sister-in-law, can keep Sorry, Haters from becoming a sorry mess.

A great-looking but stupefyingly incoherent supernatural thriller adapted from a popular video game that ransacks the entire catalog of horror film tropes for more than two mind-numbing hours.

The Caller qualifies as something of a Holocaust movie, with flashbacks to World War II France. Guess who the two boys we see grow up to be?

Domino, though, is the dregs: This thriller may be randomly set one year in the future, yet it’s hopelessly regressive — a parade of lame stereotypes that feels directed by an out-of-touch Old Hollywood old guy (De Palma is 78).

Though Wilkinson gives an atypically restrained performance that lends the movie its best moments, and Watson manages to breathe a little life into her underwritten character, the movie is hopelessly simple-minded, with corny fantasy sequences, slathered-on folksiness and a plot twist that it would take a miracle of self-delusion not to see coming.

The American Muslim comedian Ahmed Ahmed does lots of jokes about how he isn't a terrorist. How odd: As I sat through his tepid act, I could have sworn he was bombing.

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

Lumpy, preachy and soporific.

It's not a bad premise for a movie, but writer-director Omar Naim, a 26-year-old Lebanese native making his feature debut, proves equally inept at handling plotting, actors and pacing.

This whole half-baked sequel is a forced exercise, willed into being by the so-called “Keanussance” — society’s renewed love affair with Reeves. He’s a nice guy and a decent actor, but he’s made a lame movie. It’ll let down even hardcore fans.

Excruciatingly bad.

At the start, “The Cut” is an adequate, typical gloves-and-shoves picture. And then, with a snap of the fingers, director Sean Ellis’ film turns absolutely interminable.

The leaden pacing, somnambulant performances and incessant symbolism in nearly every shot will soon have you thinking that The Three Marias is three too many.

Shapeless, sloppy, badly paced mess.

Spectacularly awful.

An example of lazy, dumb and couldn't-care-less hack movie making.