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

The dialogue itself is not interesting or funny. Ostensibly sophisticated remarks--lazy references to Freud or Dostoevsky or whatever--pack no dramatic or intellectual weight.

Each segment introduces new characters and a radically different scenario, which suggests that Hancock's structure may actually be an insecure attempt to deliver a horror movie.

Paycheck is a bogus journey.

Isn’t like a lot of modern horror movies. It’s not about torture, or dead children, or weepy vampires with great hair. It’s an attempt to reinvent the monster movie, which we're all about. It’s too bad it couldn’t have been contemporized. Period movies can so easily become parodies of portentousness, and that’s what happens with this one.

As a fan and well-wisher of Coppola's, I wanted very much to like this movie, and I'll probably give it another shot once the DVD comes out. But, at first sight, Youth Without Youth's striving for exuberance reveals an almost desperate effort too much of the time.

Surrounding Council and Moore in this cacophonous, bleak New Jersey are a set of cops, neighbors, and relatives played by actors that the unimaginative Roth yanked directly from various TV gritty crime shows; it's like he thought HBO was his personal casting agent.

What doesn't work at all -- saving the worst for last -- is a ship-sinking performance by John Leguizamo as Lorenzo.

So tasteless, so fiendishly puerile that it’s hilarious.

The climax is the only thing for which the rest of this flick exists.

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

Trust the Man mainly feels like the work of a New Yorker who hasn't left his trendy neighborhood in ten years.

If only the love story were a little more convincing, she might have saved the world and the movie.

Threadbare sequel.

Winds up being rather fun. It's not great, but it's certainly not the worst monster movie that I've sat through -- that might be 2003's "Darkness Falls."

By straining to make a respectful war film for everyone, Winkler and Friedman have wound up with a toothless picture that won't satisfy anyone.

Close is the best and worst thing about the film, delivering a performance that upstages even Christopher Walken (!), taking her over-the-top Cruella de Vil turn to its saccharine-sweet opposite.

This terminally ill, terminally awful dramedy marks a sad cinematic milestone: The Bucket List is the first film in history to feature a truly wretched Nicholson performance -- and we're not talking about the character he plays.

Silly, heartwarming, and fun.

Riddled with ammunition for what Alfred Hitchcock called the "Plausibles"--those poor-sport moviegoers who insist on pointing out a movie's inconsistencies instead of simply enjoying the ride

Feels like a re-hash.

The storyline was actually believable, surrounding a family willing to do anything to save one another. A horror film turned feel-good.

Borderline reprehensible, High Tension is a living nightmare, but then, why else would you see it?

One of the film's few virtues is Danny Glover as the voice of Miles the mule.

While the concept is interesting, the whole thing comes off as a rather hilarious, um, disaster.

Although mixing teen humor with sentiment will never be done as well as in "American Pie," John Tucker Must Die has just enough heart to entertain the "MySpace" set.

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.

Perfectly harmless but by no means cinematic. It is unapologetically vying for the same moviegoers that "Greek Wedding" connected with last summer.