The worst sin is the way the film borrows and corrupts the gravity-defying action style of Yun-Fat's international hit, "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon."

Although its low-key realism is admirable, Eden doesn't really work: the long silences, the aching stares, the telling props, Breda's quivering blues, Billy's drunkenness, his distraction. There might as well be a sign stuck to the Farrells' front door: Dysfunctional family lives here.

Shot on the cheap, with cheesy animated credits and comic-panel "Bams!" and "Pows!" splashed across the screen, Super has a jokey, low-rent quality (or lack of quality) that could be endearing, if Wilson's performance weren't so nihilistically dull, and if there were somebody in the picture who had a soul.

Cold and stylish, slick and violent.

A toothless political satire set in a Maine coastal village. It plays like six subplots in search of a sitcom.

Usually Amy Adams can work all kinds of magic with her wide-eyed gaze and wistful smile. But these attributes aren't assets here, they are distancing devices.

Between Owen's quiet intensity and Mirren's showy color, they make a complementary pair for screen or garden.

Warrior has the underwritten, overproduced bluster of "Conan the Barbarian."

The script is boilerplate, the wit pretty much witless.

Watching the film is like getting hooked by a fearful angler who can't successfully reel you in.

In this G-rated movie the effects are gee-whiz, with live giraffes amid the stuffed animals and bouncy balls so manic that they could use some Ritalin.

As for The Happening, his throwback horror flick that plays like "The Birds" meets "The Blob," it's beyond good and evil. It's dumbfounding.

Yes, bestiality in a PG-13 movie. It's the end of life as we know it.

The main flaw of White House Down is that it overstays its welcome, thanks in large part to a silly climax that seems to unfold in three laborious acts. At least, Tatum keeps his shirt off.

Overwritten, over-designed, and too clever by 200 percent, the film does offer the pleasure of actors enjoying themselves.

A noisy, not particularly charming collection of skits and skirmishes.

Men, Women & Children isn't a cartoon. It wants to be real, terribly. Instead, it's just terrible.

Seven Pounds is one part jigsaw puzzle, one part "The Giving Tree" and both parts marinated in melancholy.

By Twisted's final twist, though, it's all Judd can do to keep a straight face.

The Getaway isn't going to bore anybody, but it's not going to do anything else either. [11 Feb 1994, p.03]

It's old, old hat.

Not a movie, it's a museum catalog of gorgeously rendered portraits and landscapes. What a crashing disappointment.

Directed in moody, downbeat tones by Daniel Barnz, Cake doesn't know when to stop piling on the angst.

For its amusing premise, Fanboys is scarily flat.

No one is bad in The Big Wedding, but no one is remotely believable, either.

Harmless, mindless and shameless.

What could have been an amusing and entertaining zombie flick is, instead, a slog.

The actors, individually fine although they appear to be in different films, tread warily on each other's turf, like Martian and Venusian making adjustments for an alien gravitational field.