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.

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 movie does feature a nice, teasing chemistry between veteran actors Voight and Mirren (who clearly relishes the chance to break out of stuffy melodrama), but this shallow, empty puzzle requires more than playful banter to satisfy audiences willing to pay to play.

For a while, it works, until it suddenly decides to abandon the "what you don't see is scarier than what you do see" for a ridiculous and ultimately insulting explanatory ending.

It's an empty-headed look at a national problem with modern surveillance society, but if everyone acted as stupidly as the incredulous screenplay would have you believe, then it's safe to say the movie inadvertently reflects, rather than critiques, the insanity of our times.

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.

This completely rips off "Heroes," which itself ripped off a great deal from the "X-Men," so no real imagination here...except for the "Sniffs," who creepily track people by smell.

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

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.

Despite the attempts of the Academy Award-winning makeup artist behind Mrs. Doubtfire, these doubtful misfires can't pass as white or as chicks.

Director Sylvain White, whose last film was the equally unnecessary "I'll Always Know What You Did Last Summer," manages to take the joy out of a dance movie by jerking the camera around and speeding up the dance moves so much.

Like the equally dull romantic drama "Catch and Release," which was in theaters for a nanosecond back in January, In the Land of Women strains to convince the audience to that it's telling a real story about real people. But with its glossy visuals and photo-shoot ready cast, the movie ends up presenting us with the very opposite of reality.

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.

The movie suffers from convoluted plots, turgid pacing, and strange disrespect for its source material.

As coincidence would have it, Steve Carell's "The 40-Year-Old Virgin" spun comedy gold from a similar idea just last week. Virgin shares not only The Baxter's basic premise, but also two of its key cast members (Paul Rudd and the beautiful Ms. Banks), allowing audiences to see just how much better The Baxter might have been if Showalter had given us some reason to identify with his socially awkward protagonist.

Isn't quite self-aware enough to be really funny, and certainly isn't serious or genuinely exciting enough to be thrilling because of it's action.

An exhausting 90 minutes of SNL-centric mediocrity that gives one the nagging feeling that Tina Fey's inability to cut the cord is going to quickly start to cool interest in her upcoming projects.

Flashy, forgettable fluff.

Threadbare sequel.

The whole film, in fact, feels slapped together and unfocused. Though the movie’s too dopey for anyone older than ten, there are scenes where characters drink and go skinny-dipping.