Spoiler alert: It can leave you feeling kind of empty and sad! It's pretty, icky and boring all at once, and feels like nothing so much as an unusually depressing Ban du Soleil commercial.

Corky Romano is merely grating. Until he finds a better director than Rob Pritts, Kattan's best bet is to stick with "SNL" impresario Lorne Michaels.

Myers' Cat, with a voice that crosses Bert Lahr's Cowardly Lion with Mel Blanc's Bugs Bunny, is generally fun, possessed of an anarchic playfulness that balances his sometimes bawdy tendencies.

An ugly and insipid film.

Once in a great while -- usually late August -- a movie comes along that's so lame, it doesn't deserve a bad review. It deserves a war-crimes tribunal. Ladies and gentlemen, Underclassman is that special film.

Has all the gross-out humor but none of the goofy sweetness. It also has neither of the Farrellys, which is agonizingly evident throughout.

A dull parade of violence, calculated sleaze and midlife angst. [08 Feb 1989, p.D05]

Has a curious train-wreck quality to it that keeps you watching and thinking. (Even if you are thinking things like, Why were these lines ever written? When you hear the "turkey" line, your jaw will drop.)

A lazy, trite comedy that's made by people who don't care either.

It's a lame, gender-mixed, mistaken-identity, cross-dressing comedy: "Some Like It Tepid," if you will.

A forehead-poundingly bad picture.

Fails to be resonant and, more important, scary.

There are moments of pleasure, humor and, yes, terror to be had here all the same.

A shabby, joyless, 90-minute slab of "advertainment."

A movie of such rank stupidity and appalling taste.

Some clumsy nips and tucks later, Fair Game still doesn't make sense, and Crawford's performance still cracks you up. [03 Nov 1995]

A disappointing venture. If only it had been more clever, perhaps darker.

A caustic, raunchy, often hilarious examination of how men use women.

A ghastly, unappealing mess that lacks a single absorbing character, engaging story line or entertaining snippet of dialogue.

Tommy Wiseau's film oozes sincerity, which is then slathered in a thick coating of oblivious narcissism, and sadly serves as an example that not everyone should follow their bliss...It's the emotional earnestness that places The Room squarely within Susan Sontag's famous definition of pure camp.

I am not qualified to refute every claim made in this movie, but I have seen enough topical documentaries to have a good idea when a filmmaker is not being entirely honest with viewers.

Director Hirokazu Kore-Eda ("Maborosi") brings gentle irony to the samurai genre with Hana.... It's a winner. [4 May 2007, p.38]