Price of Glory won't make anyone forget "Raging Bull" or "Rocky."

You can't help but think how much better this film would be had Woody Allen directed it...How much more acerbic fun would it be to see Judy Davis playing stenographer to a neurotic, writer's-blocked Woody?

This moronic yuletide time-waster might work as a way to grab a few winks at the mall during last-minute shopping, but it's not going to end up as a highlight on the resume of anyone involved.

Surprisingly bland even within its dubious genre of "chick flick."

fFat, dull drag.

Yet another mediocre-to-lame thriller shot in Portland.

It's fitting that Black Knight, the new time-travel movie with Martin Lawrence, should arrive at the start of the Christmas season, because the season gives us the perfect word to describe it: humbug.

Its breeziness keeps it from ever being completely bland or flat.

What could have been a biting, darkly comic action flick about capitalistic health care run amok is instead a familiar, gory, post-apocalyptic slog.

Short on both life and laughs.

Tends to beat some plain unfunny material to death.

Joins the growing list of blandly made erotic thrillers that contain no eroticism, few thrills and fewer likable characters.

Nothing shakes this pathetic attempt at humor from its self-satisfied torpor.

It's hooey, but it's hooey that picks up in the second half, not exactly redeeming itself but fitfully engaging.

Flat and uninteresting, both visually and dramatically, this is a waste of two appealing actors.

More a collection of character vignettes than a full-blown story, Garden Party nonetheless shows as much promise for its makers as it gives to its characters.

Ted Danson gets in a little practice for serious dramatic roles with a solid performance in this otherwise forgettable piece of fluff. [17 Jun 1994, p.15]

Clearly based on the Japanese film series about Zatoichi, the blind samurai, Blind Fury is also openly tongue-in-cheek. It is little but violence and gags, but the violence often is so cleverly and improbably staged that it's funny too. [19 Mar 1990, p.B08]

Isn't a particularly good movie if what interests you is the art of film -- cinematography, editing, screenwriting, staging, little things like that. But if you're chiefly interested in turning off the upstairs lights and relaxing with a few laughs, you could do a lot worse.

The movie never pauses -- at least, not to waste time on anything like developing the female characters. But there's no edge to anything, either dramatically or politically.

The air stuff, aided by 10 Army and National Guard units, is super-duper and excitingly filmed. The ground stuff is choppy and perfunctory. Jones is good, Young is OK, and Cage looks distracted for most of the film. [02 Jun 1990, p.C08]

He plays it so low-key there's nothing much for him to do, apart from the clueless-dad shtick and some awkward comedy with an ostrich. The big laughs never come.

You'll forget it tomorrow, but it's fun while it lasts.

It's the kind of movie where the bloopers that run with the end credits are much funnier than anything that came before. That's a good rule for a comedy: if the blooper reel is funnier than the movie, you're in trouble.

Cop Out wouldn't be as disappointing if it hadn't been made by Smith, but for those who dig the vulgar wit of his early, funny films, it's not just stupid, it's sad. At least the worst film of the year also bears its most forgettable title.

Shrill, unfunny third installment.

In the end, the intelligence of the dialogue and crack acting are wrestled to the ground by the zealous politics, the formulaic narrative and a wan and flaccid air unusual from the reliably nifty Parker.

The process of Farrell figuring out his divine purpose finally gets so convoluted and schmaltzy, it feels less like "destiny" and more like "cruel cosmic joke."