Director Rick Rosenthal ("Halloween II") seems to have forgotten everything he ever knew about generating suspense, relying on cliched shadows and grainy, handheld images supposedly shot by the increasingly terrified students.

Five people were credited with co-writing TURNER & HOOCH, and rarely have so many labored to so little effect. There's barely enough to make up an agreeable made-for-TV movie in this film.

Finney and Keaton each have their heavy dramatic moments, but there is nothing in writer Bo Goldman's script that hasn't been seen and heard in a thousand other films.

Exactly what you'd expect. This moderately amusing formula comedy is the screen debut of sitcom star Kelsey Grammer (Frasier), who plays a naval commander charged with piloting a WWII-era submarine in war games against the high-tech nuclear fleet.

The movie's uninspired animation (including primitive, blocky computer imagery) doesn't help, nor do its astonishingly stereotyped characters.

Pryor--whose customary profanity cuts into the story's essentially sentimental nature--is able to energize the material, but in the end Bustin' Loose remains a minor effort from a major talent.

Noisy and obnoxious, this flashy action picture is so hell-bent on seeming smart that it fairly forces you to think about how fundamentally stupid it is.

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

It's an action junkie's angry fix -- 130 minutes of sound and fury, signifying nothing but big bucks and boundless contempt for viewer intelligence.

Pretty melodramatic stuff, given poor technical production by the studio, but saved by Quinn's bravura performance.

The violence is bloody, nonstop, and as pointless as the script.

Hugely smug and annoying.

It all amounts to something less than an 80-minute Calvin Klein advertisement.

Ruthlessly efficient and utterly predictable.

Parts of the film are nasty enough to grip the audience, but a large portion is muddled and sometimes laughably pretentious.

It begins with a stale Hitler joke and ends with a miraculous quick-save that demonstrates just how poorly the Holocaust is served by the life-affirming requirements of Hollywood features.

Cocky, vulgar and very noisy picture.

While the transgressive trappings (especially the frank sex scenes) ensure that the film is never dull, Rodrigues's beast-within metaphor is ultimately rather silly and overwrought, making the ambiguous ending seem goofy rather than provocative.

Corny and irritatingly simplistic though this fast-paced biography of 16th-century German religious reformer Martin Luther may be, it's undeniably entertaining.

This lowbrow romp doesn't even have the courage of its own infantile grossness.

Simply exhausting; it wants to be funny and sad and lighthearted and serious all at once.

This intermittently interesting symbolic tour through European history once again places ideas over aesthetics and technique.

The jokes tossed into this feeble effort involve Cheech and Chong in drag, herpes, and an S&M porno adventure featuring the comedians' real-life spouses Shelby Fiddis and Rikki Marin.

Executive produced by B-movie veteran Samuel Z. Arkoff and indifferently directed by TV-trained Stuart Rosenberg, the film's reputation exceeds its achievements, and the true story angle has been vigorously disputed.

The script originally began life as a stage play, but still feels underwritten.

Not everyone will be comfortable with a story that's as geared toward recruitment as any Army film, be it God's or Uncle Sam's.

The film is never dull.

A shamelessly derivative, if basically likeable, kid's picture.