Dull, humorless, and thankfully, the last of the Dracula films produced by Hammer.

The film will mostly be remembered for Bisset's wet T-shirt sequences.

The amazing thing is how dull a movie crawling with gunfire, psycho tantrums and stuff blowing up can be when you just don't care what happens to anyone.

Filled with tremendous stunts and well-shot racing sequences, director Steve Boyum's loud, down-and-dirty ride through the world of Supercross motorcycle racing comes to a screeching halt for its many pit stops for Hollywood clichés.

While billed as "an intimate look" at Jay-Z, the film reveals next to nothing about him beyond the fact that he possesses a formidable ability to spin and remember lengthy rhymes, however vulgar and reductive their content.

Pinup appeal alone does not a compelling movie make.

The offbeat cast and gorgeous Barcelona locations can't quite make up for the thinness of the mystery and forced quirkiness of the characters and their tangled relationships.

The story is a bit predictable and the characters given to restating the obvious (presumably for the benefit of very young viewers), but overall this third Pokemon sequel is surprisingly entertaining.

No character development, ridiculous situations, and a miserably written script attempting to indict corrupt legal and judicial systems add up to a tiresome and pointless film where Pacino is wasted as a witness to a parade of lunatics.

Were it not for Kumar's luminous charisma, the film would be unwatchable.

The story is painfully familiar, and McIlhenney regularly stops it in its tracks by indulging the actors in arty monologues that sap the movie of any suspense or sense of momentum.

The moral message gets a bit too preachy at times, and the performances are somewhat wooden.

There is nothing original or especially interesting about this film, though in-jokes abound.

SHE'S OUT OF CONTROL would have done far better in the TV ratings than it did at the box office. It has all the production pluses of national ad campaigns: smart art direction, lighting, and costume design; a catchy mix of old and new rock'n'roll on the soundtrack. Unfortunately, SHE'S OUT OF CONTROL also resembles commercials in that it hopes to appeal to everyone and basically endears itself to no one.

For every inspired bit -- Templeton playing chauffeur to 40 I Love Lucy-era Lucille Ball impersonators -- there's one that falls spectacularly flat.

Golan barely touches on the fundamental conflicts that created the situation there and simply offers a pack of wild-eyed, swarthy Arabs preying on passive, middle-aged Jews represented by the likes of Winters, Balsam, Bishop, and Kazan. Such horrors do happen, but they do not have to be presented as a cartoon.

Despite all the props, costumes, and music, the film conveys no feel for the city, the period, or the seedy gambling milieu.

A kitchen-sink realist coming-of-age story in the venerable British tradition, with all the good and bad that entails.

A surprisingly shoddy affair that abandons the unabashed romance of its predecessor for a rudimentary action-adventure plot involving guns and drugs.

Long, lumpy and sadly charmless, this adaptation of John Berendt's nonfiction portrait of Savannah, GA, refracted through the prism of a scandalous true-crime story, tramples all over the silkily seductive voice that makes the book so compulsively readable and eerily haunting.

Given the film's focus on the importance of hip-hop, its soundtrack -- crammed with current artists though it is -- doesn't make the impression it should.

Stone Cold is a stupid, no-stakes movie, and no manner of high jinks can hide that fact.

Generally amusing -- if occasionally overly sentimental.

This heist flick is far more likely to drive audiences away than catch and keep anyone's interest in the title kid -- or more accurately, kids.

Despite the sluggish opening, Kutcher and Bernie Mac ensure that this predictably plotted comedy of preposterous misunderstandings is occasionally quite funny.

The film's flashy visuals (apparently geared to engaging video game-impaired attention spans) are entertaining, but its cynicism is distasteful.

On the positive side, Coscarelli makes ingenious use of the clips from the original film, and comes up with the occasional creepy moment. But more often, PHANTASM: OBLIVION is extremely slow-paced and works only on a scene-by-scene basis rather than as a coherent whole.

A bit more violent than the average spaghetti western.