The occasional amusing one-liner can't compensate for the broad caricatures and awkwardly structured story.

Turturro's sweaty, lumpen Cain is a profoundly disagreeable guide down the rabbit hole of hallucinatory paranoia.

Demonstrating just how different literature and filmmaking can be, filmmaker-turned-writer-turned filmmaker Dai Sijie botches an adaptation of his own best-selling short novel.

Screenwriters Maibaum and Mankiewicz attempted to downplay the gadgetry this time around, but their attempts at adding more humor hinder plot development. The film's pace lags until the climactic finale.

A rapper doesn't make the story fresh.

It's not nearly as funny as "The Waterboy" and has little of "The Wedding Singer's" goofy charm, but die-hard Adam Sandler fans -- whose numbers are legion -- will find plenty to laugh at.

Witless comedy.

Without sympathetic characters or laughs, THE STONED AGE has little to offer beyond a classic '70s soundtrack featuring Blue Oyster Cult, Black Sabbath, Deep Purple, Ted Nugent, and Foghat's "Slow Ride" (which was used over the closing crawl in the far more ambitious DAZED AND CONFUSED).

The mere sight of strapping men in micro-mini skirts suffering the indignities of thong underwear, catcalls and pushy pick-up artists is good for a couple of lowbrow laughs, but they're buried pretty deep in dreck.

The story is moving, and the animation includes some powerful images, although some of the early scenes depicting the suffering of the mice in Russia may be too frightening for younger viewers.

Ridiculous haircuts and clothes can't compensate for the absence of real characters, which consigns much of the cast to cameo-like performances.

Though Dylan shuffles through the dramatic sequences like a dessicated mummy, the music sequences are strikingly vibrant -- he's never looked worse or sounded better.

Kudos to writer-director Eric Schaeffer for doing a sexually graphic romantic comedy about fiftysomethings without being patronizing or cutesy. With both heart and guts, he honestly depicts how that moony-eyed, falling-in-love rush of endorphins is the same at 55 as it is at 15.

Mediocre documentary squanders a terrific subject.

The film delivers a few slick thrills before beaching itself on an ending that would be chilling if its depiction of unimaginable horror's lingering legacy weren't so muddled.

A clear, unbiased documentary examining of the UNSCOM debacle would benefit anyone attempting to make sense of the dire situation. This, unfortunately, is not that documentary.

It careens from coarse comedy to smart-ass stylization to vicious violence without ever becoming convincing on any level.

Although SWAMP THING was definitely aimed at a different audience than THE HILLS HAVE EYES, Craven fails to capture the gothic quality of its comic book inspiration--which had some genuinely frightening and grotesque moments. Instead, the whole thing is merely silly and not much fun.

While Aiken couldn't be cuter or more-well suited for his earnest role, the script is utterly predictable and often falls into the saccharine trap. The pooches add a little life to this otherwise lackluster effort.

Exceedingly well-shot (by Jack Cardiff) action film that will evaporate from the memory shortly after the end credits roll.

Director Forest Whitaker, who appears to have been typed as a female-friendly director in the wake of "Waitinh to Exhale's" runaway success, drags out the already painfully slow proceedings with syrupy dissolves, slo-mo sequences and redundant flashbacks, underscoring it all with an intrusively obvious country soundtrack that matches lyrics to emotions with cringe-inducing exactness.

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.

The music is surprisingly good and there's a skateboarding bulldog that you've just gotta see to believe.

Episodic, pretentious, and more than a little silly.

It's merely glum when it should be bracingly grim.

To make the package look fresh, there's a pile of complications.

Directed by Steve Miner, who got his start working on the Friday the 13th films, Warlock aspires to more than many genre movies, though it actually achieves very little.

Unfortunately, it only hints at the real fire the purple one brings to his shows.