Cocaine Bear is a movie that will appeal mostly to people who think it’s hilarious to get their dog stoned. If you’re someone who loves to sit on an old couch with a bong between your legs, crying with laughter as your dog bangs into furniture, “Cocaine Bear” might be your “Citizen Kane.”

It’s a character study of a character who isn’t worth studying. It’s a revenge movie, but when the revenge comes, the only person you feel like getting even with is the screenwriter.

Worse than dull. It's parasitic.

A movie so filled with contemptible, ugly and unfunny characters that it is physically difficult to watch.

There’s nothing wrong with a big, dumb-as-dirt action flick. You’ve made some enjoyable ones over the years — the first “Transformers,” “Bad Boys” — but 6 Underground, a nonstop stunt reel with a few, admittedly impressive displays of your usual visual verve — is just “Fast & Furious” crossed with an old Whitesnake music video, but with fewer functioning brain cells.

Attack the Block is the other alien-invasion movie opening today, the lousy one, the one from Britain. In Britain, it's probably just a regular bad movie, but here - with accents that are barely comprehensible and in-jokes about council flats, not to mention a swerving handheld camera and some of the cheapest effects since "Night of the Lepus" - it's surprising this thing ever got released.

A shamelessly dumb movie.

As plain awful as Untraceable is, possibly the worst thing about it is that it pretends to mean something.

Misbegotten mess.

Exactly what the title implies: mindless.

She's hopeless, he's hopeless, and this movie is just ghastly.

In stiff competition for the lamest thing ever put on celluloid.

The best bits come in the first few minutes -- or maybe the jokes just seem fresher then.

One of the downsides of living in a free society is that every so often someone like Myles Berkowitz gets hold of a camera.

This sixth installment, by far the worst in the series, is bland and deadening.

Bare-bones vanity project.

It represents 2 1/2 of the longest hours on record, a jumbled botch that is so confused in its purpose and so charmless in its effect that it must be seen to be believed, but better yet, no. Don't see it, don't believe it, not unless a case of restless leg syndrome sounds like a fun time at the movies.

The most shocking thing about Harry and Max isn't the subject matter. The most shocking thing is just how tepid it is.

The Sitter is not (Funny). At all. By any definition, although an argument might be made for the alternate meanings "perplexing," "deceptive" and "slightly unwell."

Movies don't get much worse.

There's so much torture and suffering in this movie, it starts to feel like "Zero Dark Smurfy."

Birds of Prey: And the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn is more than horrible. It should not exist. Money should never have been raised for it. The screenplay should never have been filmed. Margot Robbie shouldn’t have produced it. She certainly shouldn’t have starred in it. It’s just a terrible thing to inflict on audiences, who, after all, didn’t hurt anyone and just hoped to have a nice time.

An amazing film amazingly tasteless, tin-eared and awkward, but amazing all the same. Anyone with a predilection for bad movies might want to see it, if only in an inspecting-the-wreckage spirit, since because movies this misguided come but once or twice a year.

Remember that manic, rambling Oscar acceptance speech, when Benigni leapt around the auditorium? That might have been charming for two or three minutes, but imagine two hours of it.

It's even less funny than it sounds. By the end, this soporific comedy makes 105 minutes feel more like a two-year hitch.

Despite its actors, its lush photography and its obvious seriousness of purpose, is as close to a form of torture as any film ever devised. I can't think of any individuals I dislike so much as to force them to see this picture.

After 96 minutes with these people, you’ll care even less than you do now.

There's bad, there's awful and there's horrible, and then somewhere beyond that, in its own Kingdom of Lousy -- where all the milk curdles and the jokes aren't funny -- is License to Wed, the latest ghastly exercise starring Robin Williams.