The laughs begin with the excellent title Hamlet 2 - and they end there.

No amount of actorly dedication can change the pointlessness of watching unpleasant things happening to uniformly unpleasant people.

Isn't quite insipid, although if it were a little better, it could be.

This one resembles a James Bond film about as much as Belgrade resembles London.

This film is headed quickly for DVD. In the video store, though, it isn't funny enough to be shelved in the comedy section nor dirty enough to be filed with the smut. It might be useful in propping up a wobbly chair, though.

Someday, The Bounty Hunter and last month’s “Cop Out” will be featured in a cable movie double bill as the two worst 1988 films of 2010.

A comedy for no ages, has an amazing amount of CGI - Cuba Gooding Incompetence.

Sandler's latest ode to projectile vomiting, passing gas, gay jokes and physical insults to the groin is basically a feeble cross between "The Revenge of the Nerds" and "The Bad News Bears."

As if the witless cultural stereotypes weren't bad enough, misogyny is rampant -- bare-breasted women abound, yet the protagonist remains fully clothed while having a bullet removed from his butt.

It's something old, it's something new, it's something borrowed and it's something that blows.

This movie -- G.I. Joke, The D-Team -- tries to do so little, and yet falls so short. A clue comes when the girl asks Clay, "How's your steak?" and he replies, "Meaty." Simple enough to achieve in theory, but this would-be treat for cinematic carnivores is a sawdust sandwich.

How do you inject life into a film whose central character is dull, slow, stupid and grim?If you're Arnaud Desplechin, you don't.

Besson co-wrote and produced this cheesy mash-up of elements from James Bond and "Battlestar Galactica."

Beyond-lame satire.

Everybody flirts with everyone else as director John Irvin pours on a level of shopping-mall-gift-shop-kitsch that would shame Wayne Newton.

Amazingly amateurish, the film lands wide of satirical targets that should be impossible to miss.

A strong, early candidate for the worst movie of the year.

It's "Das Bomb." It's "The Perfunctory Storm."

The writer-director of Dying of the Light is Paul Schrader, screenwriter of “Raging Bull.” The star is Nicolas Cage — Raging Tool.

One bad movie -- in the original sense of the word.

A chaotic mess.

Stinko movies often unwittingly critique themselves -- and the brain-dead romantic comedy Down to You (which Miramax understandably didn't screen in advance for critics) is no exception.

If someone ran this guy through a scanner, the readout would say: “Mark down and stock in straight-to-video aisle."

Amateurish, irritatingly gabby indie.

Thin yet excruciating, the film is a quintessential vanity production. The script feels like a first draft that aspired merely to mediocrity and fell well short.

It stumbled onto an accomplishment truly awe-inspiring: It makes “Battleship” and “The Watch” look good.

The toilet caper is the lowest point of a movie with many low points, including bad acting and a generic script.

Contains much more prosaic ingredients. Like props and sound effects that could have been borrowed from an off-off-Broadway play, a host of painfully strained performances and a plot that's almost unbearably stupid.