There’s no apparent human feeling on display here, just scene after scene of protracted martial arts combat that goes on and on, while providing no rooting interest.

No matter how guilty our knucklehead-protagonist's victims supposedly are, it's difficult to maintain a rooting interest.

Fatal Instinct isn't funny, which in a comedy is a slight problem. The movie isn't funny for several reasons, but the most important reason is that the jokes aren't any good. [29 Oct 1993, p.C3]

A dull, boring, poorly acted, limply written and thoroughly unappealing fantasy, featuring bland characters locked in a struggle of no interest.

Achingly long and pointless, "Runs" is a movie about family that's dishonest in its presentation of every relationship.

It bombs, but not for lack of trying. It bombs for too much trying. [17 Feb 1990, p.C3]

Throwing your $10.25 down a storm drain is a better idea; at least that way you won't feel the added self-loathing of wasting more than an hour and a half of your life watching Eva Mendes in the worst acting job of her career.

Watching Inside is like being stuck inside a house, unable to escape. No, it’s worse than that. It’s like being stuck inside a house, unable to escape, and Willem Dafoe is there with you.

A graceless, embarrassing effort.

Gerry is ragingly bad art that contributes to a definition of independent film as something no one would want to sit through.

What garbage. Seriously. What absolute, bereft, witless, unoriginal, unrewarding, soulless garbage that’s 40 years past scaring anybody. The only power this formula retains is the power to make you feel a little sad — at the ugliness, at the cynicism, and at the pathetic waste of your own mind as you watch it.

Quentin Tarantino and Robert Rodriguez had their fun with From Dusk Till Dawn, and now they need to stay away from each other. For their own good. Forever.

Best of the Best is the wrong title. Worst of the worst would be more like it for this movie. [Nov 13 1989, p.F4]

No more than a minute into this, and it becomes obvious that the next 98 are going to be trouble.

It is possible to watch 90 minutes of this comedy without once cracking a smile. [12 Jan 1994]

It's just not enough to say that The Three Stooges is the death of comedy. Rather, it's the death, burial, putrefaction and decomposition of comedy. It is where comedy, once alive, ends up as dust blowing in the wind, like something out of a really bad Kansas song.

Dumb but also unrelentingly dark and ugly, thereby depriving the viewer of any camp value.

A poorly acted, colossal bore of a film that strikes wrong notes from beginning to end.

Belongs in the holiday hall of shame.

Snoop has obviously made a real-life impact in his community. Too bad he couldn’t make one in reel life as well.

This is a terrible movie. It has no business being as terrible as it is, because it boasts a perfectly acceptable horror premise and a perfectly acceptable cast.

Proves that it's possible to make a movie so tasteless and so crude that audiences don't laugh. This is worthwhile information. It means there's a limit.

It's so low it scrapes through the barrel and deep into the earth's core. It's the lowest piece of garbage to hit screens in months.

The only people to feel sorry for in Transformers: Rise of the Beasts are Anthony Ramos (“In the Heights”) and Dominique Fishback (“Swarm”) who play actual humans trying to save the planet, when in real life they’re just humans trying to save a movie. They’re fine, but they can’t make a dent in the awfulness.

The result is embarrassing: quick cuts and shaky, hand- held camera work, bad acting and lots of attitude.

Remarkably empty, remarkably noisy, remarkably pleasureless. It's unwatchable.

How bad does it get? How far past the basement can one elevator go?

Gives stupid, vulgar comedy a bad name.