All the tunes are forgettable, and Reynolds and Dom DeLuise, who plays a crusading moralist, ham it up mercilessly.

A convoluted exercise in shifting perspectives and fractured storytelling.

While the film completely unravels shortly after the opening scene, there a few good performances (notably from Robert Loggia) and the gorgeous cinematography of Robby Muller to cling to as it sinks into a confused abyss.

Favors light action over character dynamics.

This third--and, at $30 million, most expensive--go-around gamely attempts to jump-start the viewer's interest with the canny switch of locations (and centuries), but the new recipe can't change the fact that this Turtle soup has grown cold.

Stanford's script is painfully obvious, right down to the line of dialogue spelling out the title's significance.

There are two stunning battle sequences, and that rose-tinted bloodbath is a stroke of the eccentric genius for which Stone is famous.

The movie is a succession of shticks--which, when they succeed, are very funny. Unfortunately, not all of them succeed.

This slight slice of L.A. life is distinguished by two fine, subtle performances. Redgrave is quietly heartbreaking-- Penn accomplishes the daunting task of revealing the spine beneath Melanie's sweet-natured tolerance of her perpetually disagreeable husband.

So formulaic it starts to fade from memory before the last punch is thrown.

Although it looks like an action thriller with a sci-fi twist, the bad guys aren't scary (Biehn's soul patch notwithstanding), the sci-fi element is silly and the action is limited to some extreme bike riding and computer-generated zipping around.

It's a beautifully constructed, often disturbing look at a day in the life of several down-at-the-heels denizens of Recife.

But for those jonesing for a loosely connected string of comedy sketches, heavy on the scatological humor, this is the fix.

The film is compelling, albeit pretty silly in its elaborate "what if?" plot.

The supporting cast is stocked with far better actors than Seagal -- Kristofferson, Harry Dean Stanton and Stephen Lang among them -- and country music personalities ranging from Mark Collie, Levon Helm, Randy Travis and Travis Tritt to Loretta Lynn's twin daughters Patsy and Peggy, to whom Seagal's character makes some vaguely suggestive remarks.

It's a silly, stupendously artificial enterprise.

This obvious attempt to tap into the same audience that flocked to THREE MEN AND A BABY (indeed, it could have been titled "Two Men and a Toddler") is about as lifeless as they come. Not only is THREE FUGITIVES a scene-for-scene remake of Veber's French original, it is actually shot for shot the same film. Not surprisingly, the resulting film feels mechanical, despite engaging performances from Short and Nolte.

From the proposed constitutional amendment banning gay marriage and the president's opposition to the morning-after pill to his pandering to fundamentalist family groups, Cho has all things Bush-related in her crosshairs, and she's taking no prisoners.

Bello is phenomenally good as the embittered Marcia, while Stuart and Christensen do their best with their less complex roles, but they're all undermined by Alfieri's shrill, mannered dialogue and cliched backstories that wouldn't be out of place in a dysfunction-family-of-the-week movie.

Would be more appealing if the women's behavior weren't alternately moronic and venal.

There's no faulting this movie's Capra-esque concept, equal parts optimism and sad recognition of the world's intrinsic harshness, but its manipulative execution may rub you the wrong way.

It's not a total shock when this gay romantic comedy suddenly veers into to heavy S&M, non-consensual sex and suicide.

There's never a dull moment and seldom one that isn't sublimely ridiculous.

Shot on location in Manhattan, the film is steeped in understated New York City ambiance and discreetly tinted by Jeffrey M. Taylor's subtle score.

Episode number five of the APES series, is the last and least of the bunch, with a juvenile script and parsimonious production values more befitting the various APES merchandising tie-ins (including toys, comic books, and action figures) than the fourth sequel to one of the finest science-fiction films in history.

This is the kind of film most of us don't really want to admit we've seen, let alone laughed at. Nevertheless, Ernest Goes To Jail gives Varney fans more or less what they expect, and they keep coming back for more.

A few moments of good, visual storytelling aren't enough to save this frustrating film.

Directed by John Glen (For Your Eyes Only), this movie has all the standard Bond components--beautiful women, picturesque locales, thrilling chases--but the time-tested formula is more than a little threadbare here. Moreover, Walken doesn't have the lines, the strength, the presence, or the dastardliness required to be a top-notch Bond adversary.

if you're in the mood to watch some high-class head-kicking, Double Impact is a perfectly adequate piece of work.

Though it ultimately devolves into megabudget Hollywood action-movie cliches by way of John Woo, Lee's handsome blockbuster is an entertaining variation on the American formulas that have colonized world cinema.

A schmaltzy variety-show routine inflated into a rudderless mess of a fantasy.

Unfortunately, that imagination flags early in the first sequel to the grisly 2004 sleeper hit, though the bang-up ending nearly makes it all worthwhile and it opens with a set piece worthy of its predecessor.

Plagued by cliched characters, ridiculous situations, and a bombastic John williams score, SPACECAMP is just not a very good movie. All the stock shuttle footage or good looking special effects proffered can't disguise its tired treatment of well-worn ideas. SPACECAMP is just a conglomeration of overworked notions, coupled with a wholly unmemorable ensemble.

Though the story is tired, most of ROBOCOP 3's action sequences and special effects are imaginative and effective, and the gruesomeness of the first two films has been toned down in a commercially wise attempt to make it more accessible to the younger audiences who love Robocop.

Amateurish performances from nonprofessional actors undermine this ultra-low-budget crime drama.

The extremely intimate violence is more explicit than is the mainstream norm, and Dalle's mouth is the stuff of nightmares.

Ricci brings her trademark gravity to the wary Suzie, but Blanchett's role is the dazzler.

Supremely silly but undeniably fun sequel.

The second sequel to the hit 1982 haunted-house extravaganza is an erratic affair, containing some promising ideas and clever effects that, unfortunately, are haphazardly presented in a narrative so perfunctory as to be almost nonexistent.

The cloying odor of therapy hangs over this preachy holiday fable about a boy whose neglectful dad dies and comes back as a snowman.

A Kiss Before Dying is one of those films that may play absurdly in a theatre, eliciting hoots, groans and sighs of relief at its end from the audience, but on video provides a mindless, undemanding diversion.

A three-hankie weeper in disaster-movie drag, and its tear-jerking bull's-eyes are separated by long stretches of tedium.

While not as ponderous and overblown as STREET FIGHTER, another video game-based 1994 movie, DOUBLE DRAGON is depressingly lightweight, making constant and unnecessary concessions to youthful audiences at the expense of any real bite or impact.

It's lewd, it's crude and it's funny - don't try to say you didn't laugh.

The quintessential cotton candy movie: It's pleasant, brightly colored and the minute it's done it's as though it were never there.

Pretty good as science fiction thrillers go, but sadly, there isn't much more to say about it.

SCREAM, BLACULA, SCREAM benefits from a slicker presentation but the script is fairly unimaginative and fails to capitalize on the more intriguing aspects of the clash between voodoo religion and the vampire legend.

The impish Wood is a little light as Sean, who's inextricably bound by same family ties that robbed him of a promising future and made him a fugitive from the only life he's even known, but the supporting cast is top-notch.

The costumes are phenomenal, the set design ravishing and the sadistic inventiveness extraordinary.

This soft, formulaic comedy/drama has a far better cast than it deserves, and they work their hearts out trying to bring life to a cliched script.

Expanded by writer-director Randall Miller from a nostalgic half-hour short he made while a student at AFI, this well-intentioned film about loss, grief and new beginnings gets bogged down in syrupy cliches and blunt self-help dialogue.

The result is something close to a textbook example of how NOT to visualize spiritual principles of the "be here now" variety.

The plot soon disintegrates into dumbness, despite Scott's believable portrayal of an aquatic Dr. Dolittle. The screenplay chooses some poor times to relieve tension, and the jokes fall flat.

Wrapped in a layer of psuedo-spookiness that leads viewers to think the story is going somewhere it isn't.

Pascal's low-key presence is particularly important, since in another actor's hands Alain's whining and waffling could easily be insufferable.

Irving's dead-serious sense of spiritual purpose is here replaced with weepy sentiment and saccharine comedy. But knee-deep in syrup, the film manages to stand on its own -- mainly due to a terrific performance from young Smith and a host of winning supporting players.

Grown-ups will come away feeling violated by the film's clumsy comedy, ancient plot, and unimaginative action sequences.

Not as awful as its notorious reputation would indicate, but certainly not the neglected masterpiece its small cult of supporters has claimed, Boorman's gorgeously shot sequel to The Exorcist has isolated moments of breathtaking imagery, but its parts do not add up to a satisfying whole.

Despite energetic dance sequences and appealing leads, the film falls prey to pat psychologizing and some stunningly puerile notions of history.

Cynical and contemptuous of its audience, this lazy sequel oozes an insufferable air of self-satisfaction.

Originally an off-Broadway play, EXTREMITIES projects the powerful rancor of the play, but the film also retains some deadening theatricality that doesn't work on screen.

Katey and Javier's dramatically expedient relationship is nowhere near as interesting as the Cuban Revolution, which is relegated to window dressing.

Tierney's so-serious script lacks any trace of humor, which might actually have made this depressing film feel a bit more real.

Strictly for small children, this animated feature will bore anyone over the age of puberty. It might also enrage anyone with a knowledge of movies as it poaches many other pictures.

The plot is almost as old as Hollywood itself, yet the film's ironic, cynical tone gives the material a new spin under the direction of veteran Peter Yates. The script is savvy about the power structures both inside and outside the prison gates, and the fine cast makes the most of the well-crafted dialog and sharply drawn characters.

Like virtually every Disney comedy released for the last several years, Captain Ron starts well but gets soggier as it goes along.

CONSENTING ADULTS shows that the urban thriller genre spawned by FATAL ATTRACTION has run out of gas. Viewers who have seen such films as THE HAND THAT ROCKS THE CRADLE, SINGLE WHITE FEMALE and UNLAWFUL ENTRY are unlikely to enjoy this derivative effort; it's the same paranoid mayhem--and not as much fun.

This small-scale film isn't for all tastes. But veterans of the dating wars will smirk uneasily at the film's nightmare versions of everyday sex-in-the-city misadventures.

Foxx is a charmer, and he makes Alvin's unlikely evolution from relentless hustler to reasonably solid citizen believable, and even rather touching.

A series of outrageous situations and generally manages to walk the thin line between poking fun at racial stereotypes and reinforcing them.

The boys' laddish catchphrase -- "Shut up!" -- is particularly irritating, especially since they never do.

This one is superior in almost every respect to the first, with slam-bang action, many humorous moments, and an excellent performance by Steve James.

An admirable attempt at a fresh version of an old genre, Teachers falls short, but not by much.

The supersonic jet takes center stage, sparing audiences from most of the babbling of the two-dimensional characters.

Hardly a feather in the cap of anyone involved, the film starts out well enough, but the last half degenerates into complete implausibility.

With its unpretentious moral tale of good and evil, CARE BEARS MOVIE II does a good job of meeting the needs and expectations of its target audience.

A shameless puddle of romantic slop.

Although the "story" is almost wholly without depth or plausibility, it's carried off with great style.

For all the gushy feelings, the plight of women like Kiranjit, bound not only by domineering, often physically abusive husbands but by racism and oppressive cultural traditions as well, is poignantly portrayed.

They’re baaaaack.

Wobbles unsteadily between broad humor and paranoid thrills. The result is a bland muddle.

Cinematographer Alain Dostie's stunning, painterly cinematography is the best -- and perhaps only -- reason to endure this stunted epic.

A dreary, turgid melodrama.

Not only do the firefighting scenes evoke a feeling of gritty authenticity, but the fire itself really does seem to be alive.

A cliched throwback to the early 1980s slasher genre, DR. GIGGLES transplants the heart of a NIGHTMARE ON ELM STREET sequel--wisecracking killer--into the body of HALLOWEEN--psycho killer returns to his hometown to slash anew--but lacks the wit of the former or the tension of the latter.

Formulaic and derivative, but sufficiently well made to work as both teen-angst melodrama and bone-rattling brawl picture.

You don't have to be aligned with the forces of evil to despise this infantile, obnoxious sequel to 1992's surprisingly enjoyable 3 NINJAS.

A crudely executed affair that doesn't play well to Western sensibilities.

Despite a certain loopy charm, the film's appeal ultimately hinges on the musicians.

Lots of gore and some decent artistic effects may keep audiences interested; if not, then the scantily clad.

Its seductive stylishness is undermined by one narrative twist too many; by the time the last revelation has been unveiled with a "But wait!" flourish, the contrivances have entirely overwhelmed the characters.

Director-writer Mike Marvin is obviously working out of his element, which consists of ski films and features with titles of things you eat or drink (Six Pack; Hot Dog--The Movie; and Hamburger). The best thing here are the cars, which have no dialog and just stand around looking fast. Sheen's is a specially built Dodge pace car that cost over $1.5 million.

This movie is a reedited version of the television series, with the addition of Sensurround. Just as bad as the failed series. Lorne Greene should never have sold the Ponderosa.

James plays it safe. And, short of unfunny, safe is the worst thing a comedian can be.

What could have been an interesting and funny period piece under the directorship of original screenwriter Edwards is turned into a tedious, infantile mess by director Benjamin.

Unfortunately, Virtuosity ignores character development in favor of slick set design and mindless action sequences. Consequently, it plays like an outdated video game.

The film seems longer than its 93-minute running time, but kids will probably enjoy its potty humor, many scenes of 4-year-olds getting the better of harried adults and the inevitable moment when a cute little girl kicks the fat guy in the nads.

Though once capable of writing distinct characters, Toback now populates his pictures with one-dimensional conceits who all talk like undereducated hustlers, from college professors to bottom feeders and international lions of business.