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

Lacks thrills, narrative, emotion, believability, character development--and frankly--watchability.

From less a purist's standpoint than a seeker of serviceable junk food, this comprehensive waste of time is too bouncy to be an "Elektra" bummer, but should make Marvel mascot Stan Lee think twice about burning another lucrative bridge with unintentional hilarity.

As bad movies go, The Jacket belongs to a relatively rare but extremely intriguing/irritating genus.

To be fair Deep does have one thing going for it. While the movie never seems to end, and when it does… oh man. Think "Aquaman" meets "Training Day." It proves that sometimes a crappy drama is sometimes just a comedy in disguise.

We loved this movie the first three times we saw it, when it was called "Life of Brian," "Wholly Moses," and "History of the World Part 1."

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.

Tron: Legacy will only be enjoyed by men in their thirties and early forties searching for a Proustian moment.

There's never any real danger in the movie, which makes The Expendables feel like one of those chummy Rat Pack flicks that were just excuses for a bunch of pals to get together and goof off.

As for me, watching this overripe, ignorant parading of Hollywood privilege an hubris put me in mind of a different song--Neil Young's "Revolution Blues." Specifically the bit about Laurel Canyon being filled with famous stars . . .

Suffocatingly boring.

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

It’s a waste.

There's enough estrogen gone awry in this bitchy teen comedy to make "Mean Girls" look like a Disney after-school special.

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.

Uncomfortable, offensive, and boring.

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.

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.