Director Uwe Boll sticks with what he knows -- how to turn video games into dull, cheap-looking movies.

All of this of course would be forgivable if it all added up to a scary movie or made even a lick of sense, but Balaguero manages to disappoint on all possible fronts.

It never actually coalesces into a movie.

The special effects are awful (the piranhas are obviously hand puppets) and the script worse.

Even the special effects are lame in this one, offering a latex shark that is about as realistic as a fake goldfish. Poorly directed by Joseph Sargent, who relies heavily on blood and fast editing to create tension since there certainly isn't any written into the script.

Nudity and foul language make this off limits to children. Downright stupidity makes it off limits to adults.

Lazy, superficially au courant and utterly forgettable.

An ugly, unfunny frat comedy.

Dull and unimaginative.

Indifferently directed and almost aggressively tedious, we'd call it cliched if they'd even bothered getting the cliches right.

This sour coming of age story is a testament to his self-centeredness and dogged perseverance.

Mixed Nuts is a relentlessly hectic, poorly structured farce that falls embarrassingly flat. All the comedy here comes at the expense of the characters, reflecting a pronounced cruel streak in Ephron's work for the screen.

Unfortunately, the mystery isn't mysterious and the characters are caricatures; the wintery New England landscape is the most striking thing about the film, but it's not interesting enough to justify watching it for 100 minutes.

Code Word: Bad!

Once LL Cool J, easily the film's most magnetic presence, is out of the game, the whole thing falls apart in a hazy, confusing mess.

An amazing artifact; the decor and lighting mix '70s tackiness with odd '50s touches, the sound design is elaborate.

Obvious and, frankly, 25 years too late.

During all of this tediously staged action, the virginal female heroine, Rennie Wickham (Jensen Daggett), suffers hallucinations about the young Jason. Not surprisingly, these scenes — which feel as if they belong in another movie — are among the most effective in the film, a welcome distraction from the mundane mechanics of the rest of this predictable effort.

An arty fright flick that's neither artistic nor the least bit scary.

The music is lavishly overproduced pop pablum of the first order, and there's a deeply shallow irony in the fact the film's most memorable tune, KC and the Sunshine Band's 28-year-old "That's the Way I Like It," is easily twice the age of its target audience.

A butt-numbing exercise in tedium, sporadically redeemed by moments of unintentional hilarity.

Jeremy Irons, giving what is, hands down, the worst performance of his career.

The greatest mystery, though, is how this thoroughly trashy picture wound up opening theatrically, rather than going direct to video.

Bolero must rank as one of the worst major movies ever made. Many awful movies are at least funny in a campy sort of way. Bo and John Derek, however, make films so sincerely bad that they offer nothing in the way of relief.

This terrible sequel to a bad movie was directed by Fred Savage, the now-grown star of "The Wonder Years," though there's no evidence of any behind-the-scenes adult supervision.

The less said about the story's twists and turns the better, except to warn that they become increasing preposterous with each passing minute.

Not bad enough to be good.... This vigorous, pinheaded action flick asks us to accept Cindy as a lawyer.

To be fair, this is hardly the worst gross-out comedy ever made; it's nowhere as misogynistic as, say, "Tomcats," and in the end, it probably won't leave you in a state of utter nihilistic despair.

No one expects a light teen romance to be "Madame Bovary," but this is Colorforms filmmaking.

More a standard haunted-house comedy than a parody of FRIDAY THE 13TH, this uninspired farce rarely succeeds...Pitifully childish on all counts, SATURDAY THE 14TH really doesn't contain anything fresh or funny, save one gag in which the gill man emerges from a bubble bath.

The series went from self-parody back to normal with this dull entry.

Ski Patrol is lame-brained entertainment stuffed with tired gags and stale slapstick.

The film isn't even enjoyably sleazy: It's just dumb and tacky.

Burt Reynolds and a host of notable performers seem to be having a hell of a good time wandering through this meandering, episodic farce, but rarely is their good mood shared by the viewer.

One of the worst attempts at comedy ever filmed.

The only thing that redeems the film from total worthlessness is Connery's Green Knight, a frightening vision in armor.

This big-budget bore looks lovely but is so miscalculated that you can't help but wonder whether anyone involved had ever seen the original.

Apart from Bronson, this is a complete waste.

You'd have to be more than merely intoxicated to find anything about this dismal stoner comedy remotely funny. You'd have to be unconscious.

In fact, with no fewer than 17 of Donaldson's favorite rock songs and a complete lack of dramatic impetus, Cocktail would fare better as an extended-play music video.

Unfortunately, SINS OF DESIRE features a disproportionate amount of sex and not nearly enough thrills...If only the film's makers had realized the crime solving techniques and sexual exploration needn't be mutually exclusive. In SINS OF DESIRE, deducing always takes a back seat to seducing.

Not clever. Not scary. Not funny.

The gags are familiar collegiate stuff, involving horny young men, horny old whores -- horny young tramps -- silly foreigners, uptight authority figures, homosexuals and sassy fat women.

There are worse movies, but that's no excuse. Rarely has so much money delivered so little entertainment.

Painfully unfunny and misguided to boot.

None of the episodes is especially exciting, and they are all so brief that very little depth can be found in any of them.

Crass, trashy and none-too-funny comedy.

This picture is just shapeless and shrill. It's disposable, forgettable and aimed at an audience that doesn't care.

This tedious hodgepodge of martial-arts mayhem, bogus mysticism and computer-generated special effects doesn't even pretend to have a plot.

Since all these revisited series have run out of steam, this sorry sequel is only recommended for aging nostalgists.

The choice is yours: Shell out 10 bucks for this dire spoof of recent romantic comedies a la "Scary Movie" and "Not Another Teen Movie", or toss your 12-year-old nephew a quarter and get him to act out scenes from his favorite movies for 80 minutes: The entertainment value will be about the same.

There's no getting past the shockingly poorly dubbed voice work of the English speaking cast; Meyer's voice is particularly shrill and grating.

The language is filthy, the film is simpleminded, and Bronson's character is as despicable as those he murders. Death Wish II wades in gore and violence, exploiting hatred, fear, and mass murder.

Surprisingly, the special effects aren't bad but they're wasted in a film that features a vomiting contest as a highlight. Skip this one.

So ludicrous it's quite funny.

A misconceived roundelay that crosses the thin line dividing gross-but-funny from just plain gross.

The film is so dark -- literally -- it's often hard to see what's going on.

The best that can be said of this lame comedy is that it will make you run to the video store to rent Brooks' YOUNG FRANKENSTEIN.

Johnny be worthless.

It would have been better off if the casting were more believable, the acting more honest, the emphasis off the obvious sexuality, and the script destroyed before production began.

CAR 54, WHERE ARE YOU? adds nothing to the police comedy genre that another POLICE ACADEMY couldn't provide.

This amateurish comedy features some amazing sequences shot in Moscow. But everything else about it is second rate.

Douglas grins and grimaces through his role as the ultimate defender of beautiful Fawcett, and it's all pretty dreadful.

The story's broad strokes are painfully clichéd and its details make no sense at all.

Entirely too convoluted for kids and implausible even by the standards set by the original concept.

Too lazy to play your own d--- video game? Lucky for you there's horror director-for-hire Uwe Boll, who's making a career out of adapting successful Atari and Sega games into tedious popcorn fare that's the ultimate in cinematic passivity.

Attack of the Killer Tomatoes employs calculatedly bad acting, ridiculous special effects, and inane dialog. Though it succeeded to some degree in achieving its goal, it's a thoroughly dull, unfunny effort.

The musical number that runs during the closing credits funnier than anything that precedes it, which isn't saying much.

The lighting and makeup are exceptionally harsh; all the women look shockingly rough beneath their garish makeup.

Formulaic but performed with some verve.

The best part of the movie is the fetid, oppressive atmosphere Hooper works up inside the sweatshop that evocatively serves as an industrial hell. The Mangler itself is an imposing creation, and its gory activities (which are more so on an unrated video version) pack an occasional chill, but too much of the movie is devoted to slack plotting and overstated acting.

Filled with long, obviously improvised pseudo-philosophical ramblings about nothing -- and that's before the drugs kick in.

Formulaic and deeply unfunny.

Certainly, it's gross, and maybe even a bit shocking, but these filmmakers are smart enough to realize that raising the bar on crassness in teen sex comedies is a zero sum game.

As bad as the title, and much longer.

Preposterous, disingenuous, remarkably unfunny and genuinely distasteful.

A disaster. Mason founders in his poorly written role, and none of the film's endless series of gags is the least bit funny.

This is sorry stuff.

Production values are low -- though, mercifully, the sound recording is clear -- and overall the project smacks of juvenile hijinks.

Infantile fantasy reuniting the stars of Grease.

A turkey with all the trimmings.

Vulgar doesn't begin to describe it: Try one of the foulest, least funny films ever made under the rubric of black comedy.

The film tries to be a modern-day female version of THE DEFIANT ONES but fails to be anything more than 87 minutes of tripe.

Even the most ardent Cheech and Chong fans will have a hard time finding much to enjoy in this pathetic showing from the drug-oriented comedy duo.

This film doesn't even have the basic narrative coherence of the first two, and it rambles about aimlessly with little humor or action. This is commercial filmmaking at its very worst.

Dumb sex comedy...Not much here except loads of beautiful women in swimsuits.

The cast isn't bad but the movie is, and Amir's use of Holocaust imagery is cheap and unnecessary; Jo and Alexander could just as easily have died on the Titanic. At one point the dialogue is completely drowned out by the roar of the surf, and that is no doubt a blessing.

A stunningly inept and totally reprehensible film.

This rancid horror film suffers from pretensions of social significance.

A potentially amusing comic premise -- dropping a pair of anarchic stoners into the spaced-out, sanctimonious world of New Age bio-dome enthusiasts -- gets submerged in a shower of witless gags and the feeble one-joke persona of MTV celebrity Pauly Shore.

It may not be as epochal a piece of work as "Mean Streets," but packs what feels like a real-life punch none the less.

This relentlessly name-dropping comedy lacks the teeth that could have made it really interesting.

Raggedly produced, savagely funny movie.

It's all wonderfully trashy fun, but the good times come to an abrupt halt when the filmmakers, hoping to capitalize on the starlet's sensational death in 1967, cheaply dramatize the car crash that took the lives of Mansfield, her driver, her friend and lawyer, and Choo Choo.

Though the electric organ score is unnecessarily ominous in clearly comical scenes, this is a fascinating early interpretation of what has become a classic tale.

The action is lightning-fast and balletically staged, living up to the choreographic potential often claimed--but seldom truly realized--for martial arts pictures by their highbrow admirers.

There's nothing hugely original going on here, but as twisty-turny crime thrillers go, this one is perfectly entertaining.

A crazy, subversively funny film about convention-bound characters who have a hard time dealing with sexuality and freedom.