Turn away from your screens. Go for a walk. Start your own wheat-threshing collective. Anything but suffer through this.

Something lazy, slow, shallow, stupid, amateurish, unfunny, unsuspenseful, uninformed, unspeakably dull and witlessly written, directed and acted (the special effects suck, too).

There's no telling how the unflatteringly photographed Applegate delivers a comic line on the big screen, because Tara Ison and Neil Landau haven't written her any. And it's painful to see pros like Joanna Cassidy and John Getz stuck in this sewage. Director Stephen Herek does what you'd expect from the man who gave us Critters and Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure, i.e., grinds out the film equivalent of processed cheese.

What DePalma has never made is a dull movie. Until now.

Never comes as close as spitting distance to a laugh.

Film critics have been asked to say as little as possible about M. Night Shyamalan's new scare film about the perils of messing with Mother Nature. Fair enough. But I will say this: It's not happening.

This unholy mess shouldn't happen to a King, much less a paying customer.

It’s 94 minutes that you won’t remember seconds after its over. You could always just throw down the white flag before shots are fired and save yourself the trouble.

Big, loud and lurid, but no less entertaining for that.

It's not easy hanging talents like Ferrell and Hart out to dry. But Get Hard gets the job done. It's one limp noodle.

Jeez, did the "surprise" climax have to be this eye-rollingly stupid?

What When Harry Met Sally made clear is that the keys to a good romcom are a tight, witty script (RIP Nora Ephron) and likable leads that can make it sing. Ghosted, like so many modern-day romcoms, opts for the everything-but-the-kitchen-sink approach. Sometimes less is more, Hollywood.

Demolition Man is sleek and empty as well as brutal and pointless.

One look at the dreadful mess that is Ghost Rider: Spirit of Vengeance will turn your whisper into a primal Cage scream: MAKE THIS MOVIE STOP!

Thunder Force is another of McCarthy’s collaborations with her partner, Ben Falcone (who has a small role), and bears all the effortless likability of a well-oiled machine, which cannot help but feel like a real limit on what McCarthy et. al. are capable of while also making a great case for how watchable these actors are when they lean in to being a little washed, a little lo-fi.

The script by Linda Woolverton stays surface faithful to the characters created by Lewis Carroll, but the film has lost its soul.

There's something pernicious about a toxic mix of sitcom and snickering sex jokes getting packaged and effectively sold as wholesome fun for the family.

For some reason — maybe it’s because the seminal, ’74 original holds such a special place in so many die-hards’ hearts (this one included), and still feels like such a potent example of channeling primal fear — this latest ransacking of a landmark title feels less like just another killer-versus-final-girl rerun and more like the final straw.

Just isn't enough.

Their (Travolta/Jackson) teamwork was classic. Basic breaks up the team. What's up with that?

What we have in the misbegotten mess called Kings is a film of countless good intentions – one that starts going bad in its first scene, gets worse form there and then dissolves into pure chaos.

Call it "Apocalypto" for pussies -- a PG-13 rating, puh-leese! -- or prehistory for peabrains. Just don’t call it friendo. 10,000 B.C. will take your money, rob your time and hit your brain like a shot of Novacaine.

Zoolander 2 sweats its silly ass off to please. The results are scattershot. But when it works — oh, baby. There's a bit with Justin Bieber and a selfie that, well, no spoilers.

Valentine's Day is a date movie from hell.

I hate Safe Haven. It's a terrible thing to do to your Valentine.

The fifth entry in the Ice Age series is a loud, lazy, laugh-starved cash grab that cynically exploits its target audience (I use the term advisedly) by serving them scraps and calling it yummy. Even two-year-olds can see through the hustle.

Witless.

Breathlessly boring.