Jason Statham is back as the fast-driving, fast-kicking Frank Martin, but this sequel fails to deliver the charm of its predecessor.

The film wraps up in a neat, environmentally friendly package that might keep some kids entertained but will leave adults yawning.

If you subtracted from the story and style components recycled from landmark sci-fi films of Hollywood past, you’d be left with Will Smith wisecracking over a box of unformatted floppies. I, Unimpressed.

Television-loving children will scream for Rugrats Go Wild!, and in this case, their parents can go ahead and let them—they won't be missing much.

An inoffensive piece of seasonal movie-muzak.

A moderate success, if a bit clunky. Somewhere beneath the syrupy melodrama and the scenes that should have expired long ago, there is an intelligent, thoughtful western in waiting.

In my cut of the film, it ends after Jones opens the parcel from his son that's been sitting on his kitchen table since shortly after he left. I recommend viewers leave the theater at that point. You won't be sorry that you did.

Favorably, Atkinson’s family-friendly, rubber-limbed professionalism can revitalize even the most vapid of material, which this certainly is. Anyone who has seen an episode of Black Adder can tell you that he’s leaps and bounds funnier than this sitcom-grade bauble.

As preposterously awkward, naïve and contrived as this movie is, it's still a curious sort of pleasure to witness-especially the gospel singing scenes.

I hold Soderbergh in high esteem, but as handsome a technical achievement as it is, The Good German plays to me as a failed experiment.

When confronted with real problems--and there's enough melodrama here to top a movie-of-the-week marathon on Lifetime--these otherwise empowered characters seem helpless to defend themselves.

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.