Syd is a jerk whose anger does not make him interesting. The only reason to keep watching is because you hope someone will drop a piano on his head.

Good-natured but mostly unfunny.

Director Andy Fickman (“Paul Blart: Mall Cop 2”) favors poop jokes and the cringe-humor of watching little kids court danger with a nail gun, kerosene, an ax and sometimes literally fire.

If 65 million years of evolution have been building up to this movie, then Darwin was wrong. But there's no intelligent design here either.

Bereft of inspiration, the agonizingly witless screenplay - blamed by the credits on George Gallo - resorts to pathetic cheap jokes about flatulence and impotence, lame slapstick and that juvenile gag about the horror of two men waking up naked in the same bed.

Occasionally amusing, extremely gross, but mostly tedious.

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.

Brain-dead film.

Cisneros is an appealing actor, but he and Falling Awake get buried under a welter of clichés.

Burzynski is dull, dull, dull, even for an infomercial.

The dialogue is banal and the acting, especially Wortham's, is unconvincing. Even the sex and nudity, of which there is a lot, grows tiresome after a while.

I’d rather wake up next to a severed horse head than ever watch Gotti again.

Should you get Carter? Sure - but make it the Michael Caine classic Warner Bros. is releasing on video next week.

Sporadically funny, dumbed-down version.

Exceedingly lame.

Just Before I Go is a “Garden State” retread in which filthy jokes gradually cede ground to sentimental slush.

Plays like an unintentional mashup of “Being There” and “Elf.”

Here, Saget can't even find a consistent tone, varying between all-out slapstick and attempts at dark comedy. Then again, it's hard to milk yuks out of murder, prison rape, bestiality, incest, homelessness and guns in school. [13 Jun 1998, p.023]

Captivity is torture porn without the sex. Cuthbert squirms, screams, weeps and pleads for her life with great conviction. Slick, sick sleaze.

It's all so insincere, you can almost imagine the filmmakers rubbing their hands together at the prospect of ripping off the public.

With so many worthy movies being made in Europe, it's a crime that something as mediocre as Erotic Tales gets a release here.

The Return is about bullets, bombs and boobs - the biggest boob being Van Damme, natch, but there are also mammaries aplenty.

A relentlessly dull film that's shot on eyeball-gougingly ugly digital video.

A 2010 movie that could have been made in 1940.

Do your kids a favor - and take them to see something more worthwhile than the relentlessly vulgar and stupid See Spot Run.

The awkwardly titled Unfreedom clearly waves the flag for acceptance and nonviolence — but it would be more effective if it invested as much in some cinematic nuance.

That this exercise in vulgarity was made at all is shameful. Dark Crimes is punishing to watch.

Stay Alive is D.O.A, a notion of an outline of a rough draft of a killer video-game flick.