A particularly egregious array of Kodak moments.

Mildly satisfying.

The single worst movie David Lynch never made.

Two points save "Lousy 2" from the absolute abyss. One is a couple of imaginative touches in the art design: Cori drives an old Citroen, and a couple of Vespa-like motor scooters are briefly glanced. The other is the performance of Frewer, who played the lead in TV's "Max Headroom." He endows the character with more sardonic humor than we have a right to expect from the junky script by TV-oriented director Farhad Mann.

There are episodes of "Rugrats" with stronger sexual suspense.

Lacks genuine magic.

Clooney's stiff cornball delivery and tendency to smile during the most tragic moments bring this as close to the cartoonish Batman television series of the 1960s as any of the movies have come.

Timely in that it joins an already mammoth list of bad movies about post-hippie static, including the recent "Steal This Movie."

Marshall has an astounding instinct for popular entertainment. He's done it again with The Other Sister.

Moore can't help but be rotten. She has no grace and little nuance, which is why she's always best as a hard-ass in movies.

Of course, there's little else of interest about Pokemon beyond the consumption factor. Buy more.

It should be renamed "Drop Dead Ghetto" and hauled off to the "Jerry Springer" hall of shame.

If your name's on the marquee, chances are your agent's already dead.

A depressing show of how truly, madly, deeply outmoded Hollywood can be.

Vampire is hardly a consequential film, nor does it suggest hitherto buried reserves of Murphy's talent. But it's a diverting mixture of horror, romance and comedy.

Doesn't have what it takes to be truly terrible.

Dead Man on Campus, a supposed black comedy produced by MTV, is simply awful.

A gooey-sweet, beautifully photographed romantic fantasy…It's also -- at the risk of sounding like a Grinch -- a mess.

Highfalutin swill determined to pass itself off as a jazzy caper.

Could have been maudlin from start to finish. Instead, more than half the 154-minute film is riveting - filled with funny, touching bits that don't stoop to cheap sentimentality.

Godawful.

Any movie that opens with a Goo Goo Dolls song and ends with a line like "I'm going to live -- just not as long as you" is bound to leave somebody reaching for a Kleenex.

There are enough mullets to win this movie a Stanley Cup.

This movie may not be brilliant, but every now and then it's really funny.

Schlesinger, working from a script by Amanda Silver ( "The Hand that Rocks the Cradle" ) and Rick Jaffa (he produced that film), gives the film a zippy pace and a natural momentum as direct as a hot knife negotiating a butter stick. Schlesinger is also still canny at casting.

That Berkley cannot act is indisputable. But her dancing looks like a seizure.

Fails to be the histrionic bubble bath that you want to carry you away.

Brainless thriller.