The idea is cartoonish in its essence but the pic is shot and played with such straight-faced realism that Swallow becomes utterly ridiculous.

While Travolta may believe he's seriously engaging with the character, following thesps like Dustin Hoffman and Sean Penn into the always-dicey enterprise of mimicking disability, his performance is all shtick and no heart.

Given the utter incoherence of the main characters' comings and goings, the pic's main point of interest is its documentation of Burning Man's many oversized art projects.

Tiresomely unimaginative feature.

Sacrifices suspense and narrative coherence for moody atmospherics and hallucinatory visuals. Uninvolving to the extreme, She's Missing misses the mark entirely.

I'm not sure who this remarkably tone-deaf, cynical-for-the-wrong-reasons film is supposed to be for, other than maybe college-hating gajillionaire Peter Thiel. As the kids used to say, thanks, I hate it.

Monotonous, unimaginative actioner.

It may seem very on the nose that the word "disaster" is right there in the title, but then nothing seems too leaden for this fiasco.

In the climactic team rollerblade race down the "devil's backbone," this Warner Bros. throwaway tries to combine "Rollerball" and "Breaking Away" for a wow finish that will leave audiences awestruck and cheering. Skaters crash into fences, hit their heads on spittoons, smash genitals-first into trees, jump over cars, slide under semis and battle each other. But this absurdly contrived hokum, poorly shot and edited, is the final insult in what is overall a new low for teen-targeted, big-screen pulp. [20 Sept 1993]

Wretched excuse for a film comedy. [12 July 1993]

In its tiresome attempts to send up its star's image and not take itself too seriously, the film becomes exceedingly laborious.

It is an airless and stilted endeavor driven by a mechanical screenplay (written by Matt Sazama & Burk Sharpless and Claire Parker & Clarkson). Its lack of imagination would be astounding if it wasn’t so expected.

This is a uniquely tiresome slog — madly over-plotted, thuddingly derivative, insanely overlong and slathered in a big symphonic score that strives to infuse momentum into a saga with minimal emotional stakes.

This sub-Hallmark dreck made by a bunch of hacks that don’t deserve to be named is the first film out of Lohan’s Netflix deal and her first feature in three years. Not to beat up on a former child star who has overcome more than her share of demons, but if this is the best vehicle she could find, waiting another three might not have been a bad idea.

When a movie is so dire you begin to suspect you’re in for a bad time before the title card drops, you cling to what tiny scraps of fun are to be found like shards of wood in a shipwreck.

Sorry, but you need to have something to think about during this latest edition of a franchise that is dead creatively if certainly not commercially.

This banal comedy is filmmaking of the lowest order.

Inspirationally impaired and dramatically retarded.

Even by the low standards of the genre it represents, this female teen comedy represents a new nadir.

The problem is that if Callahan spent even a week writing this script, he wasted four good days. The dialogue, characters and situations are distressingly bad.

There's a fresh candidate in the running for worst movie of 2007 honors.

Featuring one-note characterizations, laughable dialogue, an overwrought musical score and technically poor filmmaking values, the film ultimately is utterly reprehensible.

Crosses the line from horror to just plain sick.

There is little worse in the movie world than a spoof that falls flat on its over-costumed butt, but that's what you get with Your Highness.

Despite the dizzying array of talent involved both in front of and behind the camera, this godawful exercise is so painfully unfunny, so screamingly bad that it immediately qualifies as one of the worst films of all time.

From the opening credits -- an animated sequence so crude a junior-high art student would be ashamed of it -- to a climax in which Kate's dog is taken hostage with a crossbow, there's not an ounce of mirth in this parade of ghastly accents, tin-eared romantic montages and dime-store knavery.

Offering nary a single funny moment in its seemingly endless 84 minutes, the film...provides evidence that cinematic sketch comedy is clearly a lost art. The inevitable outtakes seen during the end credits seem to indicate that the actors, at least, were having fun. Too bad none of it managed to find its way onto the screen.

Barely managing to fill its brief running time despite its surfeit of smuttily vulgar gags, 3 Geezers! proves a less than subtle argument for euthanasia.