Just a big chunk of waste flushed from a Hollywood studio.

You haven't heard anything until you've heard "Play That Funky Music" on the accordion.

It pains me to tell you, But really, it's true: The Cat in the Hat Is a piece of dog doo.

It runs a fast 88 minutes, is broad as the waistlines of its stars, and is remarkably family-friendly if you don't mind bathroom humor.

Harlin, with his customary visual brio, has created a film that is deliriously watchable. It's just not all that interesting. In the end, The Covenant is simply a glossier version of TV's "Charmed."

Long, lumbering and endlessly unfunny.

So bad you're nostalgic for "Gigli." So painful you need an epidural. So mindless you'll lose yours wondering, "What were they thinking?"

Really lost in space.

The scenario looms as a brain-dead invitation for the stars to embarrass themselves, and Company Man wastes little time in fulfilling that glum suspicion.

Affleck, for his part, behaves as if a Zero from "Pearl Harbor" dropped one too close to his noggin. He looks permanently shell-shocked.

If the '60s sitcom McHale's Navy was a poor man's Sergeant Bilko, the new big-screen McHale is a poverty-stricken, starving-to-death, brain-dead person's answer to last year's not-so-hot Steve Martin movie, Sgt. Bilko. [19 Apr 1997, p.D08]

The jokes are framed by a silly plot about a missing jewel - a prize sought by assorted thieves and law enforcement types and unwittingly protected by Magoo. Of course, Nielsen saves the day, but there's no way he can save the movie.

A piece of schlock from Garry Marshall.

88 Minutes proves itself to be a maddeningly mediocre, ineptly manipulative "real-time" thriller.

A tad more character development would have been nice.

The unintentional effect of movies like Bless the Child is that they are enough to make agnostics out of true believers.

Struggles mightily to find its loony essence. But Bullock's apple-cheeked larkishness is all flailing limbs and bug-eyed reaction shots - there's no there there. Cooper's character is woefully underwritten, Church's is yet another vain anchorman-wannabe cartoon.

Dark and murky, grainy and grim.

Has a dark, low-budget feel and an incongruous combination of self-consciously jokey patter and gross-out gore.

This salt-and-pepper buddy movie set in the scenic environs of downtown Brooklyn and the Australian bush is a crowd-pleaser -- for the elementary-school set.

Has the incoherent look of a movie thrown together by a committee whose members weren't on the same page.

Gets stupider as it moves along. By the end, you just don't care whether that cold-hearted snake Petrovich (that would be Reno) gets his comeuppance. Just bring on the Battle Bots, please!

As far as director Nicole Kassell and writer Gren Wells are concerned, the C in Big C must stand for cute. The film reaches into the pits of moviegoing hell when it finds Marley on a celestial white couch, ringed in billowing white curtains, communing with God. And God is embodied by Whoopi Goldberg.

Awesomely ridiculous thriller.

In this frothy beach movie, they make pop-music lite together but create an utterly unconvincing romantic couple, seeming more like siblings or best friends. From Ruben to Clay might work better.

"Zis is not verking! Zee glitter cannot overpower zee artist!" That, in a sentence, sums up what is wrong with this picture.

Much of the dialogue is the silliest sort of fantasy mush, and a good deal of the picture appears to have been shot while the lighting guys were out to lunch.

The highlights of the movie are a great song, Sam Phillips' "I Need Love,'' which comes at the end, and Stiles' affecting crying scene.