When the hits finally do come, they are really only capable of scaring 13-year-olds making their first trip into the horror genre.

Skillfully manage to adapt some key details of the show -- namely, the high-flying car chases and hillbilly narration.

Despite a lavish budget and one of the most expensive movie sets in the world--the island of Manhattan—they (Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen) can’t buy love, talent, or a decent script.

Snoop's subtle performance in the captain's chair flips all the right switches, and Ryan Pinkston's timing as Arnold's "straight out of Malibu" son is perfect, but these two aren't enough to salvage the film.

From an audience perspective, the title’s fairly apt as well.

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

About the best thing that can be said about The Brothers Solomon is that it's harmless. It's mild, familiar, and as inconsequential as a sitcom episode.

The actor that comes off the best in The Ex is Grodin, who spouts some hilariously cranky one-liners that sound too off-the-cuff to be scripted.

Visually ugly, morally non-existent and a complete black hole in the departments of insight and wit, Chapter 27 is quite possibly the most godawful, irredeemable film to yet emerge in the 21st century.

As a fan of the genre, and someone who genuinely loves such recent horror efforts as "The Descent" and "The Host," I respectfully suggest that the atmosphere for horror movies might be better if moviemakers stopped making ones like this.

This movie’s sole purpose is to make teenage boys high-five each other, and it’s faithfulness to that concept makes the cartoon carnage almost endearing.

If you dissect Masked line by line, it would be, like a Dylan song, indecipherable. But if you take the allegory as a whole, by simply asking the questions, it somehow makes a statement. Is it muddled? Yes. Imperfect? Sure. Impenetrable? Well, that's open to interpretation.

While Repo! is obviously no "Zauberflöte," it does offer up spectacle on an operatic scale.

While the canine is a scene stealer, the movie is a dog.

When it's all over and it's apparent that entire sections of the film are irrelevant and the paper-thin love story leaves you unsatisfied, hold your tongue, and try to remember that this film is v-e-r-y important.

There is also a sense that the filmmakers weren't quite certain if they wanted to make a fun, kid-friendly adventure or a bawdy adult-skewed comedy. Walking the tightrope doesn't work.

Had the picture maintained a sense of lightheartedness, it may have better lived up to its genre. But, as is, Alex & Emma is flat, neither whimsically romantic nor consistently comedic.

An inoffensive piece of seasonal movie-muzak.

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

It’s a waste.

It’s surprisingly funny for another weak "American Pie" rip-off; Nicholas D'Agosto and Eric Christian Olsen make a hilarious pair; If you're under the age of 25 you’ll like it.

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

The leaden performances (Erik Scott Smith is the worst offender), the unlistenable musical interludes, the amateurish caricatures, and the short stories' lack of overall cohesion make this a garden party you should take a rain check on.

It was received at Sundance 2007 with a resounding thud. Not because of this controversial rape scene, but because, well, it just wasn't good. Unfortunately, even with over a year of rejiggering, it's still not good.

Imagine what someone like Danny DeVito might have done with the material, taking it in that darker "War of the Roses" direction instead of languishing in this sunny, not-nearly-sinister-enough "Legally Blonde" territory.

When your movie is nothing more than a cheap and uninteresting homage, best not to call attention to that fact with a ten minute opening scene to that effect.

I suspect that there’s an audience for this film. I’ve heard that they like "mindless" entertainment.

A disappointingly schlocky effort that gives up on trying to make a realistic Punisher movie, settling instead on a hokey, multi-colored-neon gun rave best enjoyed in Rob Zombie's family room.

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

The silver lining in the film is Paul Rudd, who brings some nuance to his character that, given his past work, you can assume was all his doing. Jason Biggs, in his role as Ashley's gay best friend and catering partner, carries out an interesting, if somewhat left-field plot twist.

Despite its preposterous leaps of logic, it somehow still emerges a reasonably entertaining summer blockbuster.

Diesel valiantly but unsuccessfully tries to raise this inane bit of Mr. Mommery above its afternoon-special standing.

Waiting is, at its root, a heaping handful of almost-funny ideas cobbled together without much skill for shaping a story. The result is that one in five provokes a smile, while the other four make the viewers slightly sick that they now have to remember what they just saw.

A clumsy, dreadfully preposterous and pedestrian thriller that seems to believe loud noises are the same as good frights.

It’s terrible enough to torture the damned.

The streetball scenes, much like the plot, have a few high points but never hit their stride.

The pumped up sound effects play like an overplayed laugh track on a sitcom that just isn't funny and only draws more attention how ineffective the filmmaking is.

Although it wasn't quite the comedy we had hoped for, the idea behind it is pretty cute; we just wished the laughs weren't so awkward and forced.

There's no question that Civil Brand has an ambitious premise, but it feels boxed in by the standard prison-movie formula.

The Hitcher's main problem is that many of the title character's dirty deeds are done off-camera. Instead of seeing Ryder trap his victims before he kills them, the audience is treated to plenty of butchered corpses that seem to magically appear after Ryder leaves a room.

Sarah Jessica Parker’s Carrie should be a cautionary tale of perpetual adolescence; her character should be out dating any number of Hollywood’s graying beer bellied frat boys. But no. Instead, we are asked to identify and sympathize with a person who gets everything she wants, but complains anyway.

Berry is giving a performance much too earnest to have been intentionally campy, setting herself up as a veritable shoo-in for this year's "Worst Actress" Razzie. Me-ouch!

While each actor is talented in his own right, the on-screen friends' relationship is barely developed.

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.

Ironically, for all of Stranger's faults, director Simon West has probably made a perfect date movie: just suspenseful enough to keep you arm-in-arm with your beau or belle; but silly enough that you'll both laugh about it afterwards.

Laughably clichéd, abominably written, astonishingly dreadful attempt at a psycho-sexual thriller.

Little Man only proves that some should just stick to the sketch comedy, and leave the big screen to "Big Daddys" like Adam Sandler who the critics tend to snub, but who know how to make an audience laugh.

The film drags by, charmlessly, endlessly. Shrieking.

And so it goes, leaving an awful taste and the inevitable question: Jane Fonda made a comeback to do dreck like this and "Monster-in-Law?"

Krasinski and Moore are an adorable couple, but marriage material they aren't, especially since they're given a mere ten minutes to form a full-fledged relationship before Williams breathlessly barges into the picture.

A clichéd and flat out boring film that doesn’t even approach the mediocrity of director Jim Gillespie’s 1997 pic in the same genre, "I Know What You Did Last Summer."

Summing up, yes, the effects are shockingly bad here, but the real tragedy is that this is a good story that was made into a movie by the wrong people.

The gags are flat, and the plot twists aren’t enough to keep the film moving.

Sometimes the only funny stuff is in the trailers, but not so here. Kristen Johnson was especially adept at stealing some scenes.

With his preferences for static, colorless visuals and exposition-laden dialogue over conversation, director Valette has now set the bar for the worst film of 2008.

Thoroughly irritating little film.

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.

Not to chastise the movie for simply being rude or crude -- since "The Wedding Crashers" proved that hormone-raging '80s throwbacks can still be harmless fun -- but this contemptible sex-com redux should be taken to task for how its infantilized yucks give license to entertaining closed-minded acceptances of very real human ugliness.

Kranks is the type of grim holiday movie that reminds you of all that is noxious and insincere about the Christmas season and then chases it down with a sickly-sweet reversal

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 do hate to say it -- it's really a drag, but why did they let this Cat out of the bag?

If raunch-comedy maestro Judd Apatow had not just an evil, but an evil-and-untalented twin, this grotesque excrescence would be his signature work.

Lacks the heart that might otherwise have breathed life into the pointless shtick.

Yet another ill-conceived big screen videogame adaptation.

Amid every action cliche in the book, outmoded stereotypes, and a plot derivative of every futuristic drama made in the last fifteen years, Ultraviolet comes off as nothing more than a pale copy of better, more inventive films.

Uncomfortable, offensive, and boring.

One of those celebrations of idiocy that never seem to go out of vogue.

I can’t say I was too surprised by how risible, grotesque, and incoherent I Know Who Killed Me is. But I can’t say I was prepared for its pretentiousness. If the picture has any use at all, it’s as a case study in what happens when the talentless attempt to emulate the inspired.