Airheads commits the cardinal sin of satire: it's not sure what it's making fun of.

Has a sour undertone that strangles its cheap laughs.

Filled with long, obviously improvised pseudo-philosophical ramblings about nothing -- and that's before the drugs kick in.

The film attempts to mock both slasher movies and the mentality that produces them, but its humor is so sophomoric that it's a little like the pot calling the kettle stupid

S-s-s-smokin'? Hardly, this sequel to the 1994 Jim Carrey flick "The Mask" should have been snuffed out in the drawing room.

Ski Patrol is lame-brained entertainment stuffed with tired gags and stale slapstick.

Repetitive, predictable comedy.

THE FISH THAT SAVED PITTSBURGH is about as entertaining and memorable as a sports celebrity Miller Lite commercial.

The annoying Reg Rogers, on the other hand, who plays Little Caesar creator Raoul Berman, delivers his lines like a stoned Pee-wee Herman, and the scene in which Billy Crystal mutters and drools in a restaurant is just disturbing for anyone who admired his work in the past.

Its misogyny, homophobia and overall grossness undermine the tired gags, and its relentless portrayal of African-American women as money-grubbing hootchie mamas (the sole exception is, of course, Dre's mom) would be wholly unacceptable if a white filmmaker had been at the helm.

Stiffly animated and featuring uninspired songs.

Even Bisset has to struggle to keep from looking embarrassed. Sadly, despite these numerous flaws, WILD ORCHID isn't even bad enough to be good.

The real-life Hayata plays himself with little conviction, while the rest of the Spanish-speaking cast give the impression that they don't have the slightest idea what their English-language dialogue means.

The movie has only a few bright moments, mainly provided by the fine group of supporting actors. Pryor displays none of his old manic energy, and the film follows suit, proceeding with murderous deliberation.

This tedious hodgepodge of martial-arts mayhem, bogus mysticism and computer-generated special effects doesn't even pretend to have a plot.

The film vacillates between inanity and flat-out lameness, and the decision to recut from an R-rated version to a PG-13 sucked out whatever life might have been left.

What really sinks the film, though, is the utter absence of chemistry between Perry and Willis.

The film's one saving grace is 18-year-old Ellen Muth, who gives one of the screen's most natural, non-Hollywood portrayals of a child.

Despite the futuristic setting, which relies so heavily on GGI effects that it looks like a feature-length production concept painting, this film is painfully predictable.

This dreary science-fiction/historical-action hybrid is a misfire of staggering proportions.

On the plus side, POLICE ACADEMY 6 is skillfully photographed by Charles Rosher, Jr., and has a very good soundtrack, supplied by Robert Folk. Unfortunately, high production values are wasted on films this slow-paced and silly.

Frenetic and cheerless action aside, the film's real problem is the Cat, who looks most unmagically like a second-string college sports mascot and conducts himself like a risque baggy-pants comedian.

The result is an unpleasant slog to an unrewarding conclusion that feels far longer than it is.

Surprisingly, Hurley comes off better than either of her demonstrably more versatile co-stars; she's not much of an actress, but she has an engagingly saucy swagger and her open-mouthed expression of outraged disbelief is priceless.

The best that can be said of this lame comedy is that it will make you run to the video store to rent Brooks' YOUNG FRANKENSTEIN.

So unimaginative that it's more of a remake than a sequel. Reynolds and his buddies all act as if they're in a home movie as they rehash the same tired gags and dull chases that filled the original.

POLICE ACADEMY 5 presents a patchwork of ideas borrowed from a score of wittier and better-done comedies, not to mention earlier entries in the series. In short, it's exactly what you would expect it to be.

Plenty of bone-crunching brawn, but not a brain cell in sight.