Feels like little more than a stale rehash with a promising cast whose talents haven't been tapped.

Dennis Quaid is mostly lost at sea as Lawrence Wetherhold, the Carnegie Mellon lit professor; he apparently saw fit to tinker with his performance as filming went along, greeting us in some scenes as a noticeably swishy highbrow, while at other moments he's channeling the smiling, drunken menace of Nicholson's Jack Torrance.

Zombie's film plays more like an experimental pastiche than an outright homage to those classic road-trip-gone-wrong movies.

Too slack to do much harrowing and falls back on some very raggedy commonplaces at the points when it should be delivering knockout scares.

There's a lot of "stuff" here, and Kelly's biggest problem -- he's got more than a few -- is that he can't tell his good material from his bad.

This is a perhaps even more misbegotten remake than the Farrelly Brothers' update of "The Heartbreak Kid."

Not charming, but not cynical, The Spirit is wholly unrecommendable, but made with greater care than many movies that are.

It would be sad if Tinseltown used this poorly executed remake as proof that there's no audience for female-driven films, because that's not the case at all.

All told, however, this bland little movie fits right into it's late January slot. It's a little bawdy - the fat-lady thong bit was funnier in "Shallow Hall" - and it passes the time.

For his fourth paycheck-cashing run through “J-Bruck’s” action-hero gauntlet, Cage lazily plays Benjamin Franklin Gates-the first of many overstuffed social-studies references.

For adults -- even adults with fond memories of the TV series -- this is one bizarre mess.

The filmmakers may have wanted to deconstruct any sense of a formal, cohesive narrative; instead, they have merely demolished it.

Unstylized, inconsistent, unconvincing, and familiar to a fault.

Time doesn't just slow down while you're watching Catch and Release -- it actually comes to a dead stop.

The reason for all this dull-to-offensive story stuff is, of course, the dancing, which has its moments but overall seems so calculated to impress that it loses all other reason for being.

Clunky and riddled with clichés from start to finish, which is a shame because the cast is able and is led by Oscar-nominated director Mike Figgis.

With its cheap scares, its defiant lack of special effects, and the most blatant usage of a red coat as a stand-out prop since Schindler’s List, Godsend is as much an experiment-gone-wrong as its Frankensteinesque plot.

Affable Ted Danson makes few ripples as Bridget's husband Don; while Roger Cross and Adam Rothenberg also glide through the film in their minor "significant other" roles to Nina and Jackie, respectively.

It’s not cynically bad, it’s simply a case of movie malpractice.

A relatively harmless (and thankfully, not entirely laughless) trifle.

To find a comparison for You Don't Mess With the Zohan in Adam Sandler's filmography, you have to go back to 2000's "Little Nicky," a film with a fantasy slant that allowed for jokes of unencumbered silliness.

The movie is a leaden, slow-moving beast.

Wan wants to have something both ways, and in the end, he gets almost nothing. As Clint Eastwood said in yet another genre picture: A man’s gotta know his limitations.

The premise of the film is serviceable, but the execution is flawed and entirely underwhelming.

With its ho-hum hero and lackluster love story, The Order would likely be one big implausible bore if it wasn't for production designer Miljen Kreka Kljakovic.

I suspect Scott sees Domino as the ultimate provocation, his way of grabbing Hollywood by the throat and shouting, "You want reality??! I'll give you REALITY!!!" Sort of.

Absence of motive makes the movie provocative; the explanation renders it irrelevant and defuses any interesting debate the film might have inspired.

It is the overwhelmingly acrid sense of humor that leaves a bad taste in one's mouth at the end of the film.