As to the dream sequence featuring Lonnie's and Brandy's trash-talking babies, it's just creepy.

There's about half an hour's worth of sickly amusing material here...Unfortunately, that leaves a solid hour's worth of witless screaming, running around and expiring in a welter of icky special effects.

The screenplay just isn't funny: Most jokes fall flat and just lie there in a pool of their own sick. And while Zwigoff's deadpan pacing was perfect for the wry, sophisticated humor of "Ghost World," here it's a comedy killer; that extra beat after each new outrage is just long enough for viewers to realize just how sad and disturbing it all is.

The poorly executed scenes in which Duff's singing voice was clearly post-dubbed and her own lack of emotional range keep the film from rising to whatever potential it may have had.

Pseudo sci-fi gobbledygook aside, X-Files alumni James Wong and Glen Morgan's script is little more than an excuse for Jet Li to kick his own ass, which he does energetically and often.

The tiny, impassive-faced Liu is a disaster. She looks cute in her custom commando gear, but she's not actress enough to make Sever's ridiculous, faux hard-boiled dialogue sound like anything but the formulaic nonsense it is.

There's nothing beneath the flashy editing and self-consciously cool production design but a soulless adrenaline machine that's never scary and rarely engrossing.

Hardman is a grating, mannered onscreen presence, which is especially unfortunate in light of the fine work done by most of the rest of her cast.

The film's most consistently entertaining element is Berkowitz's backer, a shady character named Elie Samaha who never appears on camera. Samaha's expletive-laden harangues, in which he orders Berkowitz to beef up the movie's T&A factor, are priceless.

Films like this are the definition of "critic proof"; if the casting, synopsis and very concept don't deter you, you'll probably find it very funny.

While this flight should have been permanently delayed due to extraordinarily offensive conditions, there are no signs instructing you to remain seated should you decide to discreetly exit before your tour of the unfriendly skies is over.

The only serendipitous touch is the casting of New York's "quality of life" watchdog, Rudolph Giuliani, as himself.

First-time feature director Andrew Douglas, whose advertising background is evident in every frame, brings lashings of style but no sense of real horror to the recycled script.

Hogan returns with what feels like a feature-length vanity project.

But by the time the big not-so-surprise ending rolls around -- no, nothing that happened was exactly as it seemed -- most viewers will have long since stopped caring.

Queen Latifah is a natural-born charmer, but there's only so much she can do when paired with a costar so irritating it's hard not to squirm when he's on the screen, which is most of the time.

This Canadian production -- while somewhat impressive for its low-budget roots and loose but inspired plot twists -- is a tedious exercise in shoddy horror that's just as forgettable as 99 percent of its straight-to-DVD kin.

What really undoes writer-director John Keitel's admirable intentions is the general lack of artistry on virtually every level.

A romantic comedy whose sour take on romance never manages to be comic.

No one expects much from movie adaptations of TV shows but complete incoherence and boredom is a bit too much to bear.

Though there's some trashy fun to be had in the film's first half, this cynical sequel -- devolves into space junk even faster than the unfortunate Ross.

It's not the bomb on the plane that scuttles this film: It's the mugging, ham-fisted direction and total absence of comic timing.

Depending on your taste, either much hilarity or a tedious barrage of tasteless, juvenile pranking ensues. Trust your instincts.

None of this is any more fun as it sounds -- the cancer ward scenes are truly disturbing -- but to be fair, writer/director Lone Scherfeg (the first woman to make a Dogme 95 film) manages some black-humored laughs.

The movie is simultaneously soft and icky; the gross-out effects are grafted onto a sub-"Tales from the Crypt" ghost story that never scares up any serious chills.

Basic knowledge of the original series is mandatory, but the more familiar you are, the more glaring this movie's considerable deficiencies will seem.

Sleek, pointless action picture.

Most of the scenes fall flatter than a lead soufflé, and the film's sight gags -- Andy dumping campers' bodies by the roadside, Gene humping the refrigerator -- are outrageous without actually being funny.