Hilariously, gut-bustingly, mind-blowingly, jaw-droppingly stupid.

The ferociously misguided new rendition of The Lone Ranger has no legitimate reason to exist.

Purists may still quail at the little bit of anthropomorphism going on, but it seems a small price to pay to broaden the audience for a family film that seeks to do more than just entertain.

Lee is not an action director, and the movie often feels like it was made in the 1940s rather than set then.

Watching Rocks shows, we know he's sharper than the average actor. But watching him flail and play funny in movies that aren't as smart as him is simply depressing. Someone give this man a good role. And please, let him do a few more takes -- these scenes can't be his best efforts.

Drowns in flat, clumsy and obvious direction.

The troubling thing about "Chuck & Larry" is the hypocrisy. It's a comedy that ridicules the people it's supposed to be championing.

The result is a frustrating and disturbing mishmash of vague philosophical noodling, which even the best-chosen cast can't imbue with zip.

The problem is that so little in this version of All the King's Men speaks to the here and now or even speaks clearly. It feels like a repertory exercise -- and not a very successful one at that.

Comes up with some decent jokes, including a talking car-based GPS system which doubles as a therapist, and a suggestive Yonica number titled "I Want to Blow You Up," but fails to surround them with a compelling story or characters who rise above the level of cliche.

A sequel that never rises to the giddy pitches of skewed humor that the original managed to toss off with such unexpected glee.

The effect is to turn a brain-optional shoot-'em-up into a military recruiting commercial, which may not be an accident.

Cobbled together from other sources without much thought to originality.

Among the lamest serial-killer movies ever made.

Refn's trying to make too little stretch too far.

Conveys an almost pulseless Nora Ephron style of homespun wisdom.

Filled with energy and visual pizzazz and at least strives for something more than dumb entertainment.

The nearest thing to W. E. is Sofia Coppola's "Marie Antoinette," which tried to make a sympathetic victim of another of history's most notorious royal wives.

The movie gets just enough right that the things it doesn't get right (beyond its overdependence on a not-so-surprising story puzzle) smack you cold in the face.

The liveliest thing here is the keen sense of regret you feel at seeing two TV icons reduced to supporting characters in a lame movie that trades on their good names.

Still, given the fact that it's August, you could do worse than hide out from the heat with the cute-as-a-bug Murphy, who manages to be funny and entertaining despite the material.

It's just another bland, junior-high-basketball riff on "The Bad News Bears" formula, one that takes every single dramatic cue from the underdog sports-movie playbook.

That cast is precisely what makes the new Arthur so frustrating.

It's a weird anti-woman message masquerading in a movie about empowerment. And there's nothing inspired about that.

Has a few pleasing stylistic flourishes and a potentially Hitchcockian plot, but the writing and rhythm are so off that when the final "shocker" arrives, we have seen it coming or have abandoned caring.

Hardcore genre fans may find some appeal in this warmed-over tale, but most viewers will be squirming in their seats even before the prolonged finale.

The Canyons comes across as a desperate gambit for relevance by a group of artists who want to reinvent themselves but don't know how. Fittingly, that's the theme of the film itself.

The trouble is, the kids seem to be in one earnest "After School Special"-type of movie, while the adults occupy a retro-futuristic world more like the original TV show.