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

A tediously unfunny comedy.

More than lives up to its name with ultra-campy performances, high-glucose direction, laughable dialogue, cheesy effects and a back-lot simulation of a Manhattan street that wouldn't pass muster on an after-school special.

The misleading trailers for the supremely goofy The Adjustment Bureau promise action-packed sci-fi. What you actually get is a love-struck Matt Damon running for the US Senate as he's stalked by fedora-wearing angels.

By the end I was getting a bit antsy from the rambling script and direction.

It's an interesting story, but the presentation is more like a home movie than something you'd pay to see in a theater.

It's also sugary and has a silly tear-jerker ending. But I found myself laughing at the film's gentle humor, anyway.

With its poky pacing, thin characters, obvious message and predictable plot, the movie amounts to a cinematic sermon that, like many of those given in houses of worship, has a good-hearted message that will be difficult to deliver to a snoozing audience.

An example of style over substance. There's lots of slo-mo and jittery hand-held camera work, and references to the French New Wave (especially François Truffaut), but little depth.

If there's an awkward moment, it's the scene in which the monks take part in a sort of Last Supper, drinking wine while Tchaikovsky's "Swan Lake" plays in the background. You keep waiting for Natalie Portman to twirl into the room.

If you go, be sure to stick around through the closing credits. By far the funniest part of the movie is a blackly humorous fantasy sequence starring Merchant.

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.

The Chaperone squanders nice locations and an expert comic performance by Yeardley Smith (the voice of Lisa Simpson) as the teacher trying to supervise the trip.

A deeply felt evocation of a place and a people by writer-director Matt Porterfield, who set this largely improvised film in his own lower-class Baltimore neighborhood.

A labored romantic farce whose only asset is Carlos Leon, best known as the father of Madonna's daughter Lourdes.

The film achieves a mild uptick in the final act, with a surprise change of heart and a race to save a little girl, but up till then it's thickly earnest -- a conquista-bore.

Morbidly funny art-house horror tale.

Not as elaborate or entertaining as Anderson's last feature, "Transsiberian," but it's got enough shocks for an entirely respectable addition to the post-apocalyptic genre.

Unknown actually has enough of a sense of humor to admit what it is: hybrid corn. But it's been crossbred from Hitchcockian stock.

For all of its homicidal aliens and toothy beasts, I Am Number Four did contain one element that genuinely unsettled me: the line "produced by Michael Bay." Nooooooo!

Fortunately, Winters' legendary inventiveness as a comedian has not diminished with the years.

Beautifully composed documentary.

Wind power plus solar power equals hot air in the propaganda piece Carbon Nation, a documentary so disconnected from reality it could have been produced by President Obama's speechwriters.

A technical and performance success. The chemistry between Sosa and Lujan heats up the screen as their lives spiral out of control.

Poetry, which rightfully won the best-screenplay prize at Cannes, never resorts to exploitation. Under Lee's guidence, it is a mature film for mature audiences.

This "Alfie" meets "Boogie Nights" bio fizzles because, although Sassoon never stops talking, he never says anything.

The film slowly builds up to Justin's first appearance at Madison Square Garden, where his show sold out in 22 minutes.

The clever screenplay, co-written by director Kelly Asbury (who co-helmed "Shrek 2"), follows the DreamWorks template of combining pop culture references, sight gags and action for the kids, and more sophisticated humor for adults.