Director Uwe Boll sticks with what he knows -- how to turn video games into dull, cheap-looking movies.

All of this of course would be forgivable if it all added up to a scary movie or made even a lick of sense, but Balaguero manages to disappoint on all possible fronts.

It never actually coalesces into a movie.

The special effects are awful (the piranhas are obviously hand puppets) and the script worse.

Even the special effects are lame in this one, offering a latex shark that is about as realistic as a fake goldfish. Poorly directed by Joseph Sargent, who relies heavily on blood and fast editing to create tension since there certainly isn't any written into the script.

Nudity and foul language make this off limits to children. Downright stupidity makes it off limits to adults.

Lazy, superficially au courant and utterly forgettable.

An ugly, unfunny frat comedy.

Dull and unimaginative.

Indifferently directed and almost aggressively tedious, we'd call it cliched if they'd even bothered getting the cliches right.

This sour coming of age story is a testament to his self-centeredness and dogged perseverance.

Mixed Nuts is a relentlessly hectic, poorly structured farce that falls embarrassingly flat. All the comedy here comes at the expense of the characters, reflecting a pronounced cruel streak in Ephron's work for the screen.

Unfortunately, the mystery isn't mysterious and the characters are caricatures; the wintery New England landscape is the most striking thing about the film, but it's not interesting enough to justify watching it for 100 minutes.

Code Word: Bad!

Once LL Cool J, easily the film's most magnetic presence, is out of the game, the whole thing falls apart in a hazy, confusing mess.

An amazing artifact; the decor and lighting mix '70s tackiness with odd '50s touches, the sound design is elaborate.

Obvious and, frankly, 25 years too late.

During all of this tediously staged action, the virginal female heroine, Rennie Wickham (Jensen Daggett), suffers hallucinations about the young Jason. Not surprisingly, these scenes — which feel as if they belong in another movie — are among the most effective in the film, a welcome distraction from the mundane mechanics of the rest of this predictable effort.

An arty fright flick that's neither artistic nor the least bit scary.

The music is lavishly overproduced pop pablum of the first order, and there's a deeply shallow irony in the fact the film's most memorable tune, KC and the Sunshine Band's 28-year-old "That's the Way I Like It," is easily twice the age of its target audience.

A butt-numbing exercise in tedium, sporadically redeemed by moments of unintentional hilarity.

Jeremy Irons, giving what is, hands down, the worst performance of his career.

The greatest mystery, though, is how this thoroughly trashy picture wound up opening theatrically, rather than going direct to video.

Bolero must rank as one of the worst major movies ever made. Many awful movies are at least funny in a campy sort of way. Bo and John Derek, however, make films so sincerely bad that they offer nothing in the way of relief.

This terrible sequel to a bad movie was directed by Fred Savage, the now-grown star of "The Wonder Years," though there's no evidence of any behind-the-scenes adult supervision.

The less said about the story's twists and turns the better, except to warn that they become increasing preposterous with each passing minute.

Not bad enough to be good.... This vigorous, pinheaded action flick asks us to accept Cindy as a lawyer.

To be fair, this is hardly the worst gross-out comedy ever made; it's nowhere as misogynistic as, say, "Tomcats," and in the end, it probably won't leave you in a state of utter nihilistic despair.