Whatever small pleasure there is to be found in this loud dud is due mostly to the residual good feelings from the first film.

Somewhere is a triumph of tedium, banality passing for depth, a vacuous embrace of nothing.

Noisy and (nearly) awful, Noises Off is the sort of movie that gives filmed theater a bad name. Based on Michael Frayn's popular, Tony-nominated play, the screen version is so lame that even without having seen a stage production of the material I can tell that the film doesn't do it justice.

"Evil" fails to triumph. Utterly.

This isn't satire, it isn't that funny and the only bits that work are the titillating ones.

The main difference between Naked Gun 2 1/2 and Hot Shots! is that almost half the jokes in Naked Gun 2 1/2 were at least slightly funny while in Hot Shots! less than a fifth are any good at all. [2 Aug 1991, p.C5]

The charm has aged right out of this silly stoner franchise.

The biggest fault of Jagged Edge is that whatever suspense it manages to generate in its climactic scenes is achieved artificially, through tricky editing and manipulative "danger" music. The mystery of the murder -- which should be generating the suspense -- is so transparent that I wasn't anywhere near the edge of my seat.

It's a fairly intriguing (and, surprisingly non-exploitative) premise, but director/co-writer Ernest R. Dickerson is lost when it comes to devising situations that would suggest what goes on inside his characters' heads. These people are all exactly what they appear to be on the surface, which isn't very involving. [17 Jan 1992, p.20]

Director Zack Snyder choreographs this like a video game, emphasizing the body count over character.

Daybreakers is a stylish but unavoidably silly sci-fi vampire thriller.

The actors are so impressed by the seriousness of their dialogue that they respectfully wait a minute or so after each line is spoken before speaking the next one. Remove the pauses and the movie would run about 20 minutes. [12 Nov 1993, p.20]

Those Jackasses from "Jackass" aren't getting better, they're getting older.

This Herefter, despite the odd engaging moment, is a terrible letdown, like investing in a belief system and discovering there's no "here" that you've been after all your life.

Far-fetched as the premise is, I was willing to give the film the benefit of the doubt for the sake of the impressive cast. But as Flatliners rolled along, its pretentiousness became increasingly toxic.

Hobo hits the screen as a grim, visually ugly, intermittently funny-occasionally preachy piece with only the estimable Mr. Hauer to recommend it.

For the most part, Life Stinks is about as far from art - or even simple entertainment - as you can get. And if I may be forgiven a small joke that's as true as it is obvious, most of the time Life Stinks stinks. [30 July 1991, p.E1]

It's not as scary as it needs to be or as clever as it thinks it is, but the new 3D version of "Piranha" is at least as gimmicky as those fabled 3D films of yore. With all the pointless 3D cartoons and joyless 3D ""Clash of the Titans" conversions, at last here's a picture that tosses its cookies, its coffee cups and its D-cups right in your lap.

It's a fitfully amusing, not remotely scary slasher picture.

A mirthless, joyless comedy with nary a hint of romance, mystery or justification for its existence.

The problem is that producer-turned-director Irwin Winkler (Night and the City, Guilty by Suspicion) simply has no idea what he's doing. I take that back. He knows what a producer ought to know: how to latch onto a hot topic and a hot star. Winkler also appears to have picked up enough from the directors he has worked with to give his film a certain second-hand slickness.

Children will undoubtedly enjoy the ninja flick a lot more than their parents will, and it probably won't even give most kids nightmares. But couldn't a steady diet of this sort of thing help to desensitize very young children to real violence? If so, that's awful - not awesome - dudes.

It's light in tone, feather-weight. But there aren't many laughs in it.

Goldberg's performance does have its moments, especially once she gets past the frenzy of the movie's first half. But like such accomplished fellow cast members as Maggie Smith and Harvey Keitel, Whoopi is wasted in this godawful nunsense. [29 May 1992, p.17]

This isn't the worst of the bunch, not by far. But my premonition is this won't be the finale this series has screamed out for these past few years. This decapitation train never seems to reach its destination.

The polished production sometimes touches and amuses despite its naïve “love conquers all” script.

There are theme park attractions with stronger plots and more compelling characters. [26 May 1995, p.17]

It's an infuriatingly static picture - actors walking around when they should be running, ruminating when they should be panicking, generally failing to convey fear and pick up the pace.