Wonder Wheel seems more like a cobbled-together afterthought than the romantic melodrama it seeks to be.

A soulless jumble of ineptly assembled cliches and pabulum that plays like a 95-minute commercial for NBA properties.

Code 46 is like "Solaris" without the psychological depth and strong acting. The movie is flat, boring, pointless, and nonsensical.

One has the sense that if the level of violence had been ratcheted up a little, Paparazzi might have been more of a guilty pleasure and less of a chore to watch.

Eye for an Eye is one of three pictures currently in theaters about parents coping with the deaths of children. Both of the others, The Crossing Guard and Dead Man Walking, are vastly superior, and the latter, a thoughtful examination of some of the same issues that drive this film, makes Eye for an Eye look like puerile rubbish. Despite paying lip service to high ideals, Schlesinger's movie has no moral compass, and is only interested in delivering cheap thrills. And, while there's a place for that in movies, appropriating this particular storyline for such a base intention feels uncomfortably like a defilement.

It is now weighed down by a second half that's equal parts incoherent, tedious, and repetitive.

Unfortunately, stiff acting, an increasingly hard-to-swallow storyline, and an atrociously bad ending torpedo Eli Horowitz’s Gone in the Night, making it unworthy of even a streamed view. When the movie started, I wanted to like it. 90 minutes later, I just wanted it to end.

If there's the kernel of a good story buried somewhere deep in Cursed, it never pops. As werewolf movies go, this one is on par with "An American Werewolf in Paris," but at least that dud had plenty of gore and Julie Delpy's bare breasts to recommend it.

As a satire on the media's infatuation with violence and murderers, Natural Born Killers hits the bullseye. The problem is, this is a one-note movie. It repeatedly hammers home the same point until the audience is bludgeoned into senselessness.

Painfully unfunny and unnecessarily long, this movie is the antithesis of its predecessor, the delightfully raunchy "Horrible Bosses."

Too long and too full of itself to offer more than a few fleeting moments of entertainment. It doesn't take long for tediousness to triumph.

Most of their jokes miss the mark and the movie gets lost in action/thriller territory that’s anything but thrilling.

Alien 3 is, simply put, a mess. The writers have no idea how to tell a coherent, entertaining story. With the exception of a surprise or two, there isn't much worthwhile here.

Dull, uninspired, and redundant.

A frustrating crime thriller that incorporates too many plot threads into the overall narrative at the expense of character identification, suspense, and emotional heft.

If I wanted to be kind, I’d call Luca Guadagnino’s Suspiria remake “visually striking” and “stylish.” If I wanted to be brutally honest, I’d call it “tedious”, “pretentious”, and even “painful” (although not in a good way).

Everything about Staying Alive is cliched: characters, story, dialogue… There’s not a single original or interesting thing to be found. Even the music is tired and, although Travolta evinces the same physicality he showed in Saturday Night Fever, the sense of joy is gone.

Aspen Extreme is a predictable, pointless melodrama -- a kind of Top Gun in the snow. Ski enthusiasts might be tempted to see the film based on subject matter alone, but, unless they're undiscriminating about the quality of their movies, I would caution against it. Even as vicarious entertainment, Aspen Extreme is feeble.

It's a depressing experience to view something like Saw IV. It's not just the soullessness that's dispiriting, but the lack of invention. When a movie does little more than repeat what its predecessors accomplished with grotesque effectiveness, it's past time to tip this corpse into its grave and bury it.

Director Scott Waugh’s intention may have been to elevate my pulse, but the only thing at which he succeeded was getting me to check my watch repeatedly.

It's all about eye candy and the quick tease. It's not over fast enough.

Indian Summer is a mish-mash of mediocre formulas. Although there are several good comedy sequences, this uneven humor is unable to camouflage the essential weakness of the storyline. The script, which relies heavily on conflict, doesn't present us with any believable characters. Reunion stories have been done so often that for one to make an impression, it needs a new angle (Peter's Friends, Kenneth Branagh's recent film, fell into the same trap). Indian Summer doesn't even attempt to strike out towards new ground. It finds a comfortable, cliche-filled groove and sits there.

Like many genuinely awful movies, Queen of the Damned has the ingredients of a cult film.

A muddle of a film - an overlong bore that either mistakenly thinks it's something more than a humdrum romance or has incorporated a variety of pretentions as window-dressing.

The greatest flaw in My Father the Hero isn't the feeble laugh-to-running length ratio, the limp characterization, or the mediocre acting. Instead, it's the feeling of unease that pervades the first forty-five minutes as Nicole and Andre clash while the film tries unsuccessfully to make light of their dysfunctional relationship. There are serious issues bubbling away here that the movie doesn't know how to address properly. Lighthearted motion pictures should never cause discomfort, but this one does.

This is sloppy filmmaking, and it's likely to wipe away whatever luster still remains to Shyamalan's reputation.

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.

A "Jennifer Aniston movie" has become synonymous with "derivative, lackluster mediocrity," and it's a shame. We know she has both talent and charisma but nothing on her recent resume has allowed her to display those qualities. So we're stuck with films that are at best forgettable and at worst painful.