At best, this is a late-night time-waster to be watched on Prime Video when all better options have been exhausted.

The entire affair is so badly bungled that there isn’t even a briefly satisfying moment of catharsis. The obvious next act for these Horsemen is to vanish—and never come back.

In truth, this feels more like a half-baked comedy sketch stretched far beyond its breaking point—until even the last traces of humor have leaked out like the gooey innards of a Stretch Armstrong toy that’s been tortured by a sadistic kid.

Like Nicolas Winding Refn with The Neon Demon, Tipping approaches it all with deadly seriousness, convinced he’s delivering a profound statement when in reality he’s just serving up an overwrought, futile mess.

Robinson's movie flip-flops back and forth between being inept and goofy.

We’re here for the nasty kills, the clever eviscerations, and the M3GAN vs. AMELIA rumble. And we get very little of any of those things.

Fountain of Youth is a perfect example of something that can play in the background but proves singularly unable to hold anyone’s attention for the entirety of its running length.

Part music video, part bizarro psychological thriller, and part David Lynch-inspired descent into existential purgatory (I kept looking for Michael J. Anderson), the film’s weirdness is sometimes extreme enough to exert an almost hypnotic attraction. But, as good as he may be on stage and in a music studio, The Weeknd (a.k.a. Abel Tesfaye) is not a good actor.

I can think of bad slasher sequels from the ‘80s that were more engaging than this one.

The Electric State has an epic look but that’s increasingly common in any movie with sci-fi elements. But, aside from the special effects, it feels unfinished, with the actors groping to inhabit barely-there characters. What does it say when Mr. Peanut has more personality than either of the main characters?

The screenplay fails to provide any reason to care about the characters or their circumstances, so we sit in a theater seat, trying not to be hypnotized by all the flashes of light in the muddled brown-and-white environment or lulled to sleep by the inane babbling that passes for dialogue.

This is a painfully bad movie that thinks it’s trying to be Jackie Chan-meets-John Wick and flies so far wide of the target that it might have been shot by a blind man.

Love Me isn’t bad in the sense that it is poorly assembled or incompetently shot. On a craft and technical level, it’s above average. But the narrative is incoherent and the philosophical meanderings lack depth and intelligence.

Although there are a few amusing instances when the film goes over-the-top with gore, those don’t save what’s ultimately a bad zombie apocalypse film with the undead replaced by robots.

Sanders, however, has taken a deep dive into the world of pretentious horror, where every killing has to be as stylized as it is gory. His characters have no humanity, his romance has no sizzle, and the whole thing turns into a slog where style overwhelms substance to such a degree that there’s too little left of the latter to matter.

Regardless of the reason, Borderlands arrives as a legitimate contender not only for worst film of 2024 but one of the worst videogame movies ever released.

Trap is a house of cards built on a bed of sand in the middle of a hurricane. It flies apart and collapses almost immediately and the various plot threads are so thoroughly ripped to shreds that there’s nothing left at the end but the wreckage of a movie and the recognition that 105 precious minutes have been stolen.

Everything about this movie feels both tired and tiring. Yes, it does a great job setting up a sense of deep unease but that quickly evaporates when it becomes apparent the movie isn’t going anywhere worthwhile or interesting, and the ending is downright silly.

Ironically for something titled The Watchers, this production lacks the basic quality of watchability.

Even for those who have an orgasmic reaction to kaiju confrontations, far too little of the film is devoted to them and the overreliance on CGI leeches away the immediacy and awe associated with the spectacle. This isn’t as bad as the 1998 Godzilla misfire but it’s perilously close.

There’s nothing imaginary about how bad a misfire this movie is even for the Blumhouse base.

I didn’t laugh once and the movie’s stylized and satirical tone defused any connection I might have felt for the characters. Perhaps if the proceedings hadn’t dragged on well past the two-hour mark, it wouldn’t have seemed like such a chore to sit through.

In The Beekeeper, as has been the case with pretty much anything Statham has done in the past half-decade, the actor is on hand to collect a paycheck in exchange for bringing a recognizable name to the proceedings.

Instead of offering engaging storytelling, it give us flashes, bangs, bad dialogue, and a mountain of fakery (a reminder that things that work in comic books don’t always translate to the silver screen). It’s sound and fury signifying nothing except to expose another chink in the once-impervious armor of the MCU.

Expend4bles feels like a movie that never should have been made for a franchise that, having lain dormant for nine years, didn’t deserve a resurrection.

Retribution seems especially disappointing, however, because of its untapped potential to be cheesily entertaining. The finished product is so bad that I can’t even recommend it for viewing on a streaming service – somewhere it should land very quickly.

Meg 2 (it lost the “The” somewhere along the way) is pretty awful stuff even in comparison to its predecessor.

This is cheap-looking, ugly filmmaking. It goes without saying that the story is nonsensical. The characters have the depth of crepe paper. But perhaps what’s most surprising is that the endless CGI hasn’t gotten a noticeable upgrade since 2017’s Transformers: The Last Knight. Modern video games look better.