Dan in Real Life takes a pleasant premise and calls upon the talents of engaging actors and generally squanders both.

Consider The Other Sister emotional quicksand. [26 February 1999, Life, p.5E]

It's hard not to wish the same wholesome message could be conveyed with a bit more finesse and originality.

Those who teach public speaking sometimes advocate telling your audience what you're going to tell them, then actually telling them, then telling them what you've told them. Sidewalks reproves this isn't a wise path for movies.

Longs to be a smutty film with a heart of gold. Instead, it's a funny concept whose execution does not live up to its potential.

Passenger 57 already has been labeled Die Hard on a plane. Die Lite is more like it. [06 Nov 1992, p.2D]

A pale imitation that challenges credulity and tries too hard to win our hearts with schmaltz.

A supernatural action thriller, is jangly, jarring and violent. But more disconcerting is watching the sweet-faced Dakota Fanning swear, get drunk and pack heat -- in both fists, no less.

But for all the fancy-schmancy effects (budget: $90 million-plus), the vision of a hypercongested metropolis is not much more sophisticated than an episode of "The Jetsons." [9 May 1997]

Though sometimes boldly captivating, the movie is also occasionally pretentious and lurid simply for shock value.

A blah romantic comedy that has the bad taste to force the heavenly Ashley Judd into being an insecure, date-desperate, quirky career gal.

Perhaps there's a legion of 10 and unders who don't know The Bad News Bears from the Care Bears. If so, they're the likeliest candidates to sit through this junior-high Slap Shot, a peewee- hockey riff on the sports-underdogs-make-good scenario. [02 Oct 1992, p.4D]

Until it coughs up a ridiculously convoluted explanation of why an isolated town in Colorado suddenly goes deader than a weekday matinee of "The Postman," Phantoms delivers the shivers.

The actors seem as frozen as the landscape in this unsuccessful attempt at a grand and profound Western about the California Gold Rush.

There's some heavy-duty Oedipal stuff going on underneath all the running gags about Hooters restaurants. [25 June 1999, Life, p.8E]

Gracie is ably played by Carly Schroeder, and the tale of her uphill battle to play competitive soccer is based on the youthful activism of actress Elisabeth Shue. Shue was the first person in her New Jersey community to break down the hurdles erected to keep girls from the sport.

Valiant is voiced by Robots' Ewan McGregor, an actor apparently no longer in a "Trainspotting" mood.

Action star Chow Yun-Fat's latest is as thin as the buzz cut he sports in Bulletproof Monk.

A weak whinny of a horse opera tailor-made for those who can't quite locate "Young Guns" or "The Long Riders" in their video store.

The movie is so silly I found myself snickering a couple of times, just before slumping down in my seat in mortified embarrassment.

While the visuals are lovely to behold, this unremarkable version of the classic 18th century Japanese legend is stiff and uninvolving.

Mr. 3000 isn't nearly as fun as an afternoon of America's Pastime.

While McConaughey does his part, there’s just not enough treasure here in Gold to dig.

The concept's execution is sloppy, full of inconsistencies and plot holes. The situations teeter on funny, but never achieve it. And sections meant to be heartwarming feel lukewarm, far-fetched or inappropriately comical.

The story starts out well, then becomes contrived and goes on too long.

Director Joel Schumacher, whose pastel color schemes vitalized St. Elmo's Fire, gives this a sensual, at times even erotic, sheen. And a few subplot issues - single motherhood, runaway kids, midlife dating - hint that at least someone involved with this project intended to go after bigger game. [31 Jul 1987, p.4D]

Director Frank Sinatra (on screen, he's a medic) was probably going for Kurosawa-like profundity here. Unfortunately, the other actors include Clint Walker and Tommy Sands. [05 Apr 1991, p.3D]

As clunky and humorless as its title.

The movie for anyone who has dreamed of watching young dinos in love.

Half a howler but not nearly funny enough.

A comedy without much zing but with an occasional zing-er that enables the film to pick up . . . well, if not nine yards, maybe an inch or two on the gridiron.

Edited like the world's most expensive car ad. The screen opens and closes like a nervous accordion, and the action shifts speeds like crazy.

The movie's exploration of obsession and a sliding scale of what’s right vs. what’s wrong is among the aspects that Little Things does well. And there’s always some positive with Washington in a thriller like this.

The movie throws in a little murder mystery and an alien-invasion angle with its coming-of-age themes, features a host of up-and-coming stars (including Johnny Depp’s daughter Lily-Rose Depp), and rockets to some interesting places when it comes to science and what makes us us. What undermines all that, however, is when the film shifts into being an intergalactic Lord of the Flies as the kids turn on each other and go tribal.

As in "Arachnophobia", director Frank Marshall can't decide whether he's making a thriller or a laff-it-up lark. [09 Jun 1995, Pg.03.D]

As it turns out, “Bohemian Rhapsody” the song is a sonic masterpiece and Bohemian Rhapsody the movie is just a conventional rock flick, one all too ordinary for a man and a band that exemplified the extraordinary.

Though Bond may never die, this time he's on life support. [19 Dec 1997, p.3D]

This overly sentimental, unduly earnest journey based on Richard McGuire's graphic novel is more gimmick than substance, one overflowing with moments and characters that proves ultimately unfulfilling.

Out of Time seems out of another time and place. Remember "Presumed Innocent?"

Though it's meant to be pulse-pounding, After Earth is a lethargic slog.

Though it's no fiasco -- there's nothing mythic about its disjointed story -- it is a failure.

For novelty value, you can do worse than seeing Sean Penn in a rare chance to don evening-wear on screen, but this isn't a sight to sustain a two-hour haul.

Almost by himself, Jackson transforms the film's final chapter into a serviceable view -- faint praise, perhaps, but a crumb to savor, given what has come before. [11 June 1999, Life, p. 6E]

Aniston's portrayal feels honest, but the film doesn't rise to the level of her performance.

Even if audiences can get by the tasteless shock title, it's tough to figure who will ever watch this movie - even when it's on cable.

Newell's rendering of the iconic novel is dull and creatively off-kilter, lacking the surreal magic and robust passion of Márquez's signature magical realism style and never fully engaging the viewer.

But even by the dull standards of movies so far this year, it seems mighty piffling.

While the attractive cast is willing, the translation into '90s teen culture is weak -- like a clueless adult's notion of cool.

Disappointing. [6 Mar 1991, Life, p.9D]

Fast & Furious 6 might have just as easily been called "Planes, Tanks and Automobiles."

The story isn't a grabber.

Philandering pilot Cliff Robertson overprotects sister Jane Fonda's virginity in a comedy as queasily dated as Ask Any Girl, Shirley MacLaine's 1959 office politics primer. It probably rates a few points for skewering the sexual double standard, and the era's New York locales are still as attractive as Mel Torme's title tune. [04 Oct 1996]

Some books are not meant to be adapted to the big screen. Alice Sebold's best-selling The Lovely Bones falls into that category.

The biggest mystery in this wannabe thriller is why such topnotch actors would sign on for such a dreary movie that amounts to a mediocre soap opera.

The First Wives Club has a femme casting coup for the ages, and sometimes it only takes the right performers interacting to give sprightly fluff indispensable showmanship. [20 Sep 1996 Pg.01.D]

Copycat, despite two tough-babe leads to kill for, flies in more directions than scattered kitty litter. [27 Oct 1995, pg.02D]

Only a few charming tidbits are nestled snugly in this over-stuffed Christmas stocking.

Fox's innate likability does go a long way to make sitcom- shallow Doc Hollywood mildly entertaining. [02 Aug 1991, p.5D]

Recapturing magic proves elusive -- or maybe the late Darren McGavin was just irreplaceable -- in an OK follow-up to 1983's beloved A Christmas Story. [11 Aug 2006, p.15D]

There's nothing like dumbing down a movie grown-ups love so it can be "sold" to teens who aren't going to go anyway. The savvy flyer will proceed to the gate marked The "Aviator" instead.

I.Q. is a limp period comedy essentially distinguished by two of its haircuts, with Meg Ryan sporting a pert peroxided trim and Walter Matthau decked out in a free-form Albert Einstein coiffure. Fortunately, in the latter case, Matthau is actually playing Albert Einstein. [22 Dec 1994, p.3D]

The film clocks in at under two hours, but the last 20 minutes feel like 40.

Yet another take on the human-as-prey-for-hunters theme seen most recently in last summer's Hard Target. [18 Apr 1994, p.3D]

A year ago next week, Debra Messing's "The Wedding Date" arrived DOA. And now this. In terms of movies that matter, it looks as if the wedding-funeral motif will continue.

Looked at from the vantage point of more than three decades later, the movie is frequently incoherent; the dialogue sounds like it was being made up on the spot; and the acting is spotty in many cases. [01 May 2004, p.70]

Has such dull patches that as a Volvo races to the scene of a massive shootout, a distracting thought comes to mind: Can Volvos even go that fast?

Feels slight and repetitive, even when there is no actual rewinding going on.

David Mamet handled such small-town whimsy better in 2000's "State and Main." Hackman could play his role in his sleep, but Romano IS asleep. Result: Welcome to Mildport, and that's being kind.

This movie has a little something, and part of it is subtext. Walken, who wants to use drug money to build hospitals, is embraced as a New York celebrity; this rings true. Plus, King reunites director Abel Ferrara and screenwriter Nicholas St. John of Fear City/Ms. .45 cultdom. [1 Oct 1990, p.5D]

Jumps at chance to be silly.

There’s a Miracle Mop at the heart of Joy, though the movie is such a mess that even it would have a hard time cleaning up.

The new version has a few jolts, some occasionally effective smoke-and-mirrors photography and a lead (7th Heaven's Jessica Biel) who could teach a grad course on walking provocatively in blue jeans.

Not a movie to cozy up to. The twisted tale is only mildly intriguing, worth seeing mainly for the striking performance of Jamie Bell (Billy Elliot) as Hallam Foe, a creepy teenage voyeur beset with an Oedipal complex.

Angels doesn't know when to quit: Just when you think it's over, it continues.

Where it should be light and graceful, Leap Year trips and thuds.

There's definitely some paradiso in watching Malena walking, but not enough to sustain almost two hours of cinema.

The movie isn't without style, but the material can't remotely sustain 100 minutes.

It's easier to take Hi-Heel Sneakers by Tommy Tucker- more seriously. [20 Dec 1991]

It's tough to make it through Nights in Rodanthe without wincing at its sticky-sweet sentimentality.

There's really not much fun to be had with Dick and Jane - or anyone else in this anemic comedy.

Dialogue is terse and predictable, and the sci-fi thriller portion is even less compelling than the Western saga.

The plunk-ing of a rap/disco soundtrack onto a movie about debtors' prisons and 18th century British highwaymen?

The detective is aces aboard Murder on the Orient Express. It’s the crime — and the ensuing whodunit — that doesn’t play.

Like the last two "Pirates" movies, Australia is ambitious more than awe-inspiring, grandiose rather than grand, full of spectacle but not spectacular.

Though they have plenty of lethal weapons at their disposal, the Losers are nowhere near as fun as the '80s action-flick heroes they emulate.

Tim Robbins plays the working dad, and the movie misses him once he bails out early.

Truth be told, the movie isn't among the worst sequels of this summer.

One would be hard-pressed to name another submarine movie that lingers so little in the memory two days after seeing it.

Don't be surprised if, in the middle of The Guardian, you get an overpowering sense of déjà vu. Assuming you've seen "An Officer and a Gentleman," "Top Gun" or any of the myriad basic-training films Hollywood churns out, you've seen The Guardian.

Though there are some funny sequences, the frothy Bubble Boy evaporates without delivering enough belly laughs.

Long on imaginative design but less substantial in narrative, this dreary story of fighting the power is more numbing than thought-provoking.

Exhale and enjoy Keenen Ivory Wayans' culturally disreputable I'm Gonna Git You Sucka, a sendup of black street comedy that's equally crude, funny - and sentimental. [26 Jan 1989, p.2D]

This is a romantic comedy, not a sci-fi adventure tale. But the actions, choices and general behavior of the characters are oddly removed from what goes in the real world.

This is a slow if stylish slog through familiar terrain.

Even though the film can’t focus on one subject, Hands of Stone does boast notable performances from its leads, especially Ramirez.

It's fun to see somebody revive the amnesia genre - how long has it been? - but the conceit quickly grows irksome. Only Thompson, who manages to be appealing in both of her roles, will likely reap much from this DOA folly. [23 Aug 1991, Life, p.4D]

Like a politician who waters down his message to gain favor with the masses rather than truly serving his constituency, Man of the Year seems determined to play it safe on all counts.

Heaven is saved only by the power of an occasional hypnotic image.