Shock to the System demonstrates that merely subverting genre conventions doesn't quite make for compelling entertainment.

A horror film dealing with the terrors lurking via our computers, cell phones and other electronic devices, Pulse isn't nearly as scary as watching your hard drive crash or having your BlackBerry conk out in the middle of a vital call.

This ludicrously plotted drama of incestuous sexual abuse is only partially redeemed by its strong performances.

It's the kind of sprawling ensemble piece that screams out for a Pedro Almodovar, but in the absence of an Almodovar it simply screams out -- in persistent, tedious intervals.

Unlikely to inspire a passionate following similar to the original, the film, which opened Friday without being screened for the press, ultimately induces more titters than dread.

Although Sutherland is an amiable and charismatic figure, his lack of emotional expressiveness doesn't help matters here. The film does, however, offer the spectacle of his getting a tattoo of the film's title (one of the band's songs) in Icelandic.

A lame and disappointing affair.

Fails to find the genuine drama in its story of love and intrigue.

To borrow a cliche from another medium, Santa might have jumped the shark.

You sense in every frame the strain to be lighthearted. Consequently, A Good Year is at times downright clumsy. You know what the filmmakers are trying to achieve and see the labor going into the attempt, but for them to fall so short is unsettling.

While Adam Sussman's screenplay can be admired for its emphasis on subtle atmospherics rather than cheap scares, it is a gimmicky slog of an affair that lacks narrative coherence or strong focus.

Jackman does everything required of him, and his range is quite admirable, while Weisz, who has nothing to prove, does looking gorgeous very nicely.

It all begins to fall apart around the midway point, before completely unraveling into a confused, murky mess.

The script is not without some perceptive observations about family dynamics, but the problematic tone keeps getting in the way. A little absurdist levity in these instances always helps to prevent things from becoming too maudlin, but in Stockman's hands, the played-for-laughs elements in this tragicomedy feel forced rather than organic, ultimately creating an emotional disconnect with the viewer.

Director Levy struggles to find a uniform pitch that would agreeably blend together the gags, the visual effects and the obligatory heart moments. In its absence, there's a stop-and-start hollowness that confuses noise and chaos for comic energy.

This implausible plot full of holes does pave the way for a series of Cedric the Entertainer skits and physical gags. None of these is very funny. A few are painfully unfunny. In either case, the movie comes to a standstill. It's a pity no one thought to screen old Bob Hope movies to see how to integrate comedy into genre filmmaking.

The lead performers certainly are highly attractive, making this one of the more sensual werewolf pictures in quite a while -- and to their credit, they do manage to keep a straight face throughout. But ultimately, the anemic Blood and Chocolate could have benefited from a little less chocolate and a lot more blood.

Part war drama, part political thriller, part romance -- and wholly uninvolving.

Heavy-handedness prevails, with the schmaltzy original score as unconvincing as the script. An over-reliance on song, from pop to Puccini to Ellington to hip-hop, doesn't compensate for what's lacking in the storytelling.

The blues music in "Moan" is superfine, but my oh my, what to make of the ripe Southern cliches and this absurd story. The film is so jaw-dropping awful that it just might become a boxoffice hit.

In I Think I Love My Wife, Chris Rock does something entirely unexpected. He isn't funny.

The usually likable Bullock, obstructed by glaring continuity problems and often baffling character motivation, comes across as unsympathetically dazed and confused here, giving the viewer little reason to care about this desperate housewife's puzzling predicament.

The Hills Have Eyes 2 proves that even grisly, gory violence can be awfully boring.

Redline is the cinematic equivalent of a sports car ad in Maxim magazine.

Poker has proven itself a popular spectator sport on television -- at least in the short run -- but as scripted drama, where you can pretty much guess the winner of a given hand, it's dull, dull, dull.

The sort of cheesy thriller that would prove mildly diverting on late-night cable, Slow Burn at least features a terrific cast to enliven its familiar elements.

The drama never comes together in a smart, meaningful way; indeed, most revelations border on the banal.

Despite an outlandish premise, Next suffers from being too conventional.