Rarely has a children's picture been so stagnant, so bereft of passion. [18 Dec 1987, p.8]

A disastrous follow-up to Peter Bogdanovich's The Last Picture Show, one of the seminal movies of a generation. [28 Sep 1990, p.7]

Perhaps the NCAA should investigate how Necessary Roughness ever made it to the big screen. The movie-making team that fielded this fiasco would receive more sanctions than the universities of Florida, Oklahoma and Houston combined. [27 Sept 1991, p.13]

There's a lot of money in the sets, costumes, cinematography and soundtrack of The Big Town, but the movie has no soul. [29 Sep 1987, p.4D]

Most annoying is John Carter's scarcity of action. This much buck should buy more bang.

Niccol fashioned an uninspired and downright dull sci-fi gimmick and doesn't even explain how it happened.

It's sad to see mercurial talent unused, and even more disheartening to see it completely wasted. Color of Night, the first film in 14 years from director Richard Rush, is a dreadful miscalculation of a comeback; a sexual thriller equally lewd and ludicrous. Rush has already disavowed the reworked version opening nationwide today, promising his original vision will be available later on video. [19 Aug 1994, p.7B]

Everybody's cyber-pal Ashton Kutcher is perfect casting for Killers, since the screenplay is shallow as a Tweet and the movie appears to have been shot with a Nikon point-and-click camera he plugs on TV.

It's difficult to not be cynical and redundant to declare this sequel needless for anyone except accountants, considering the studio involved. But this ranks among Disney's most shameless shirkings of its responsibility to creatively entertain, in order to pursue profits.

The Next Karate Kid is equally pointless; a fourth installment of a series that stopped kicking and started creaking in round 2. [11 Sep 1994, p.18C]

For the love of movies, stay away.

Final Analysis is overwrought, overwritten, overscored pseudo-Hitchcockian drivel. With more twists than Lombard Street has curves, this San Francisco-set psychological thriller is the biggest disappointment of the new year. [8 Feb 1992, p.3D]

It's amazing how much slobber $ 20-million will buy. [28 July 1989, p.6]

There are some laws of nature we might as well accept: Gravity exists, the world is round, and movies with Pia Zadora, Robin Leach, Dr. Joyce Brothers and Annette Funicello are not funny. [24 March 1989, p.7]

The Last Airbender makes the cartoon version with its ratchet-jawed characters and clunky animation seem like a Pixar classic.

It's too easy to say that only fans of Adam Sandler and Damon Wayans should consider seeing Bulletproof, since it would be excruciating to anyone else. It's also unfair, because those fans would be better served to respectively watch "Happy Gilmore" or "The Last Boy Scout" another time than suffer through this latest - and possibly all-time worst - entry in the buddy-action-comedy genre. [7 Sept 1996, p.2B]

Shore's new "comedy" Son-In-Law proves without question that this MTV maniac is one of the most tedious one-note performers in any branch of show business today. Considering that his brain-addled manner serves as a role model for many teenagers is more offensive than his lack of talent. [2 July 1993, p.9]

This messy mix of sci-fi horror and post-Superbad raunchiness didn't make me laugh once. Not a single snicker, chortle or smile.

A comedy abomination, tasteless and useless to a stunning degree, with storied actors smugly collecting paychecks for sullying their careers.

A wheel-spinning homage gone terribly awry.

I'm Still Here is amateurishly shot and edited, as if ineptness equaled some higher level of veracity. Ironically, it's the only Joaquin Phoenix movie anyone has cared about in years.

Doremus captures each insipid moment with hand-held camera urgency and clumsy jump cuts.

Who's That Girl is a stern test of your MQ (Madonna Quotient). It is quite possible to hate this movie before the animated credits sequence is over. [10 Aug 1987, p.1D]

You don't need to watch National Lampoon's Loaded Weapon I to understand what a sloppy comedy concoction it is; just listen. What you won't hear is laughter, even in a crowded movie theater. I haven't experienced such a silent audience for an alleged comedy since last year's horrid Stop, Or My Mom Will Shoot.

End of Watch is a repellent movie, first for its shaky-cam conceit rendering much of the action incomprehensible, and finally for seeking to entertain viewers through the thuggish execution of a police officer.

The Change-Up is the "Human Centipede" of gag-me comedies.

Save the money you might spend for a ticket to see For a Good Time, Call... and just read a dive bar's restroom wall for free. That's the sub-level of comedy here, with a litany of crude sexual euphemisms and phallic images passed off as jokes.

It's all megalomaniacal junk from Snyder, but that isn't his most offensive move.