JAMAICA INN had many interesting incidents associated with it. Unfortunately, very little of that interest reached the screen.

The story's a bore; its arrhythmic stutter of humor and drama, tension and calm never builds into any coherent emotional arc.

For the terminally hip and/or terminally adolescent.

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.

Not since Larry Clark's "Kids" (1995) has the threat of HIV infection been used so gratuitously, driving a narrative that ultimately has nothing to do with the AIDS crisis.

Bart the Bear shows more versatility in his gender-bending role than Lillard, who trots out his old, tired slacker shtick.

This broad, coarse farce is otherwise as insubstantial a piece of work as you could possibly imagine; in fact, a light breeze could blow it away.

Labored and dispiriting.

The not-so-incredible story of two girls in love.

The most impressive thing about it is that the actors manage to sound so earnest while mouthing the most shameless cliches imaginable.

This dogged journey of self-delusion is interrupted periodically by snippets of footage...that promise a dark revelation that would give an edge to the otherwise tedious goings-on but, sadly, never materializes.

This disappointing sequel to last year's horror sleeper gets trapped in the clichés it's trying to send up.

This feeble attempt to revive the characters from the popular TV series "Get Smart" copies the show, but without the sharp humor that made it so popular.

Ralston gets solid performances out of his cast, and the film has a surprisingly polished look. But in the end, there isn't much to it.

None of this is funny, the surreal touches are ridiculous and the final fantasy sequence, in which the nameless ghosts of the murdered Wiener family smile on Josef, is simply nauseating.

Despite Chantel's promise that she's letting us in on the "real deal," JUST ANOTHER GIRL ON THE I.R.T. is just another teenage pregnancy melodrama: remove the swearing and the hip-hop soundtrack and it would make a fine after-school special, complete with a smart yet sexually irresponsible teenager, a remarkably successful premature birth, and an uplifting ending in which the young mother goes to night school to finish her high school diploma.

Without an assured character at its center, the movie quickly collapses in a heap of moldy clichés and contrived (and not especially funny) situations.

An old-fashioned dinosaur opera, in the worst sense of the term. An obviously formulaic effort, designed more as a cash machine than a piece of cinema.

The kind of film only a mother could really love.

Despite the participation of Moonstruck screenwriter John Patrick Shanley, a fine cast, and director Pat O'Connor, The January Man is a disappointing movie that plays like something that had languished at the bottom of Shanley's desk drawer since his student days.

Overall, the film is occasionally interesting but essentially unpersuasive, a footnote to a still evolving story.

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

Would be too long even if it were twice as funny. And that about sums up the movie.

Each new installment has become like a visit with old friends who are often annoying and frequently boring, but are missed in some strange way when they're not around.

A clumsy, calculated attempt at warm-hearted, populist entertainment.

Shot through the bars of a barbed-wire topped cage and staged to a pounding soundtrack, the fight is quite a spectacle, but it's ultimately an empty one.

Not much acting is on display, the dialog is simplistic, the story is superficial, and the direction is faceless, but true fans won't care. Others have been warned.

If your idea of a good time at the movies is watching two grown men go at it with fists and shivs and nasty wilderness booby-traps, then you're in luck.