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.