Will Ferrell's terminally stupid, sloppy, campy and cheesy -- and thoroughly unexciting and unfunny -- experiment in "family entertainment."

The result is surprisingly engrossing -- even lively, due in part to brief musical numbers inserted amid the interviews.

An icky S&M thriller.

A twist ending does nothing to make the previous 85 minutes interesting.

I hope they have shrinks in remote Nepal, because this kid is going to need one. P.S.: The scenery is awesome.

An exquisite work of cinematic art that also happens to be the funniest, most touching, most exciting and most entertaining movie released so far this year.

Drag Me to Hell is pure cheese. Goat cheese.

Takita could easily trim 30 minutes of flab and oceans of tears from Departures. It still wouldn't merit an Oscar, but it would be a lot more watchable.

The premise has potential, but there's no follow- through. And there's no actual zombie mayhem; we learn everything secondhand -- from phone calls to the station.

That rare commodity: a film with only good things to say about public schools.

Damonically awful.

Seems to go on for several days and nights, though in fact it lasts just 105 minutes. I checked my watch. A lot.

Time for another of Steven Soderbergh's "experimental," i.e., half-assed, films.

Julie Andrews, Dick Van Dyke and a host of other notables sing the praises of the estranged siblings, whose work is illustrated by copious film clips.

A crass, heavy- handed and -- most unforgivably -- largely laugh-free adaptation of The Master's infrequently revived 1924 comic melodrama.

At 86 minutes, the film spends exactly 86 more minutes with its subjects than can possibly be tolerated. Coincidence?

Yet what makes this movie is the digital effects. It's got all the heart of a demolition derby.

The news footage, so powerful on its own, needs no enhancement. The dramatized scenes only slow the film's momentum.

It's got enough going on to sustain five blockbuster thrillers. That is its blessing and its curse.

The movie fails to add up to the sum of its laborious parts. There's no emotional investment in any of the characters, and you can see the writer-director's windup con coming a mile away.

At nearly two hours, Big Man Japan is clever (in a sick sort of way) but overlong. It needs judicious editing -- more mockumentary, fewer superhero antics.

Marlene Rhein has directed 40 music videos, including ones for Tupac Shakur and Amy Winehouse. Judging by this, her feature debut, she should stick with the music.

The final twist is completely unexpected.

The film is a failure if it can't convince us that these two people belong together. It can't, and barely tries.

Even for a French drama, Summer Hours is so slow as to be practically still.

Adoration, which hinges on a number of coincidences, contains some really fine performances.

Picture "Fargo" played with no sense of comedy, and you'll get some idea of the absurdity of this drunken floozy, clicking and wobbling on high heels, often with bits of her anatomy hanging out, trying to pull off the perfect crime.

An exceedingly silly historical fantasy.