Coarse, cliched and clunky.

A few funny bits float the film for a while -- it's always nice to see Peters onscreen, no matter what she's doing -- but it's really as showcase for Marcus, who also wrote the script.

While kids of all ages will want to see it, the movie is loud and occasionally brutal, and while the body count is relatively low, it's still pretty scary stuff.

The basic problem is that most of the humor is based on things that are beyond parody. Bad television commercials and lame low-budget films are funny enough as they are; exaggerating their ridiculousness is unnecessary. What is successful is the painstakingly accurate recreation of everything from the commercials to the title skit. The talented filmmakers demonstrate that they can handle a multitude of directing chores, and, although the scripting may lack imagination, the visuals are handled quite well.

Not even a bravura performance from Woods, some steamy love scenes between Bridges and Ward, and a thrilling daylight car chase down Sunset Boulevard can pull this confusing remake out of the doldrums.

Self-indulgent wallow in privileged malaise.

The real problem with Taking Care of Business is that it doesn't even get much mileage out of what it does have going for it. Grodin and Belushi have both done their best work in buddy-buddy pairings (Midnight Run and Red Heat, respectively), but while the two demonstrate some comedy chemistry here, they aren't brought together onscreen until the film is virtually over.

Swank is painfully uncharismatic, leaving Christopher Walken, in the minor role of occultist Count Cagliostro, to decamp with any scene in which he appears. His performance may not be historically credible, but it's hugely entertaining: Would that the same were true of the film overall.

This psychological horror picture is harrowing and occasionally macabre -- you'll come away wondering what kind of father would cast his daughter in such a sexually brutal film.

The play for the heartstrings is so cold and calculated that the movie's sentimentality feels as synthetic as its hero, and the philosophy is simpleminded and lazy.

There's a lot of talent on display here: Dukakis has never been better and once again Fitzgerald proves himself to be a filmmaker of unfailing sensitivity, capable of transforming what could have been distastefully flip or overly lachrymose into something humorous but deeply heartfelt.

The movie takes a desperately wrong turn about 45 minutes in, and you can almost hear the great sucking sound as the whole thing churns down the drain in a swirl of narrative contradictions.

James Woods adds another hateful, embittered creep to his gallery of losers, neurotics and junkyard dogs with vampire slayer Jack Crow.

It's not a cheap rip-off -- it's a credible sequel to a horror classic, and a sad reminder that some things never change.

A brazen, irreverent, and wild satire that hits more often than it misses, THE MAGIC CHRISTIAN seeks to prove that people will do anything, absolutely anything, for money--if there's enough of it.

Yes, it's a testosterone cocktail, but at least it doesn't leave you feeling as though you've been tumbled around in a gem polisher for two-and-a-half hours.

At first glance, FOR LOVE OR MONEY looks like a holdover from the greed-filled 1980s, a last gasp glorification of Reagan/Bush era yuppiedom. The surprise is that it's actually an amusing, if occasionally formulaic, comedy.

Boring, contrived, and manipulative.

A few scary moments, but that's about it. Technical credits are good, actors are fair, direction is mediocre, but the public squashed Bug.

Better than most in the slice-and-dice genre, Terror Train has a couple of decent performances from Ben Johnson and Jamie Lee Curtis, great photography from John Alcott (Barry Lyndon; The Shining), and some atmospheric direction from Roger Spottiswoode (Under Fire).

Hope isn't funny, Winters misses the mark completely, and watching Diller is like scratching your fingernails down a blackboard. To be avoided.

Rob Reiner's feel-good tear-jerker, in which dying well is the best revenge, wants to be heartwarming. But first-timer Justin Zackham's screenplay is so stridently formulaic and disingenuous that the film falls flat at every inspirational turn.

The story vacillates between broad, kid-friendly gags and a series of oddly sour riffs on the theme of adult sibling rivalry.

So clotted with back story that the Romeo and Juliet-style romance between a warrior vampire and a reluctant werewolf never has a chance to breath, Len Wiseman's revisionist horror tale is all look and no bite.

The film's secret weapon is its kicky soundtrack.

As for the performances, Moore doesn't bring anything special to his role, but Hannah's slightly awkward and befuddled demeanor works to her advantage, since she's playing someone with a tenuous grip on reality. The other performers are generally left adrift by the simpleminded, juvenile script, which, devoid of comic inspiration, resorts to gratuitous profanity and crude sex jokes.

All but the most easily pleased kids will be bored as can be, and anyone who has fond memories of TV's Leave It to Beaver would probably rather not besmirch them.

An empty reshaping of Grand Hotel, held together by disaster in the sky. Airport will be remembered as the trailblazer of the disaster epic, one of the most trivial genres in the history of motion pictures.