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.

Those endless end credits reveal that McKittrick previously worked at Steak & Ale, Roadhouse Grill and Friday's. He may well need to return to his line of work after a debut as dismal as this one.

You will be so put off by the bland couple (what do you expect from people named Joe and Jane?) and their dumb arguing - not to mention the grating score - that you won't really care.

Poor Keaton, a capable actor who was absent from the screen for several years, is hamstrung by the material even more than in last year's dismal "First Daughter."

A bad film with some oddly charming moments.

The acting is serviceable at best, the direction unfocused - and the special effects and makeup cheesy-looking. This is surely the most dreary-looking film ever shot by the great Vittorio Storaro ("Apocalypse Now").

Misses everything that made the first one eat into your spine like meningitis.

The plot is a watered-down grab-bag of old, tired ideas.

Like "Sex and the City 2," Marmaduke features well-coifed bitches in heat, nonstop puns and its very own Mr. Big. Unlike "SATC 2," this one is harmless and, on occasion, mildly witty.

It’s all terribly talky and low-energy; that wonderful noirish title, it turns out, was just a front for a history lecture.

With action aplenty, talking animals and enough gags to make any sane grown-up groan, "The Revenge of Kitty Galore" is a harmless but fun hot-weather diversion for the family.

Not a movie but a live-action agitprop cartoon so shameless and coarse, it's almost funny.

When Grown Ups star and co-writer Adam Sandler repeatedly slapped Rob Schneider in the face with a dehydrated banana, I was jealous of Schneider, who suffered less than I did getting slapped upside the head by this rotting fruit of a comedy.

I enjoyed the visual effects used to create some hellish creatures and the amusing nods to "The Exorcist" - cranial rotation, even a spooky staircase. But the movie slips in the last act.

With thinly drawn characters, uneven performances and tin-eared dialogue, Stonewall plays at best like a musical without the songs.

In spite of (its) flaws, Fear of Fiction is an intense film with many touching and funny moments.

Director Uwe Boll and the actors provide scant reason to care in this crude '70s throwback.

It's not to say that the adolescent humor isn't funny; some of it is hilarious. It's just that this movie lacks the overarching comic sensibility that made "Mary" and even Adam Sandler comedies like "Happy Gilmore" and "The Waterboy" so satisfying.

Marinated in clichés and mawkish dialogue.

If you stay awake, you'll certainly feel more than a little ground down after watching perhaps 15 minutes of skateboard footage padded out with nearly 90 minutes of strenuously unfunny toilet humor - all cheaply filmed on a budget that looks as if it would scarcely cover the catering bill for "Gigli."

So consistently silly and overwrought that it flirts with the elusive so-bad-it's-entertaining category.

Ineptly directed by Raja Gosnell -- the genius behind the "Scooby-Doo" features, "Big Momma's House," and "Beverly Hills Chihuahua" -- this cheesy-looking flick has lousy animation, worse special effects and the most headache-inducing, blurry 3-D since "Clash of the Titans."

A mildly funny, stereotype-stuffed comedy.

Seriously flawed - and choppily edited in the worst Harvey Scissorhands style - but there are enough good moments to anticipate a second film from writer-director Katrina Holden Bronson, whose parents were Charles Bronson and Jill Ireland.

Any one episode of "The Sopranos" would send this ill-conceived folly to sleep with the fishes.

Clayburgh is the most dignified thing about this dreadfully overwrought, often preposterous romantic comedy.

Endlessly lame.

A low-watt, low-wit comedy.