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

But there are kicks a-plenty besides the times J-C flings his tootsies of terror at opponents. [14 Jan 1991, p.6D]

If you're of a mind to believe a dreary and far-fetched thriller about numerology-crazed alien life forms, then you may find the movie mildly diverting.

It's a thoroughly family-friendly film, with a subtle message about the importance of father figures. Don't expect anything resembling believability, but enjoy the blend of strikingly colorful visuals and banter between odd couple Johnson and Caine, which combine for a mild escapist treat.

Alpo is served with a burrito chaser in Beverly Hills Chihuahua, Disney's fish-out-of-water comedy in which the fish is … well, read the title.

Hanks directs with assurance. Perhaps if he had teamed with a more agile writer, less given to cheesy yuck-fests, Larry Crowne would be the nuanced adult love story it aims to be.

The movie starts out cleverly enough but grows insipid as the girls' antics become more predictable.

Moviegoers will come up empty with Mad Money. This lifeless comedy and uninventive caper feels as if it were cobbled together at a studio's obligatory consciousness-raising diversity seminar.

But most of the humor is about as fresh as the air left behind whenever Witherspoon uses a toilet.

May be dull, but the familiarity of it all makes it feel ceremonial, a reassuring ritual.

What audiences should expect is a tone-deaf, superficial, charmless ensemble rom-com, focused on five attractive, but uninteresting, couples.

This is Johnson’s baby, a film spotlighting a complicated antihero he has championed for years. It wins some battles and packs plenty of punch, yet it just can’t get past familiar tropes and flaws.

A more sure-footed shoot-'em-up that finds some heart, wit and perhaps enough momentum to spawn a formidable action franchise.

Has the refined taste to crib from classics like "Double Indemnity."

Machete Kills dulls more than anything. It's not that Robert Rodriguez's sequel lacks any of the camp or exploitative violence of the 2010 original. The mayhem has just become boring.

The slapstick would put Curly and Moe to shame. The raunch is crude as often as it is clever.

It takes more than an awkward title attempting to sound cool to overcome its mundane plot and silly dialogue.

First-time director/writer Richard Stanley hammers together chunks from films past to form a clunky horror show that never rises to the level of its source material. [14 Sep 1990, p.4D]

Mostly, Battleship is a noisy, overlong and numbing military-vs.-aliens saga with laughably bad dialogue.

There's nothing wrong with fairy tales, but they don't have to be formulaic. A movie like this would have benefited from a blending of the fanciful and the inventive.

The cycle thrills here are everything: flips, collisions, a chase across the top of a fast-moving train and even a zoom down the aisle of one of the train's cars as the passengers take it in stride.

The result is another middling comic-book adventure for the fan-favorite Spider-Man antihero that leans kooky and earnest and even saps some of its title character’s bite, though does give the snarling Venom a new aspect: a big baddie daddy.

Tango is a Lethal Weapon without lethal wit. [22 Dec 1989, p.7D]

If you'd like to know about the famously eccentric psyche of surrealist artist Salvador Dali, whom Pattinson plays, you're better off consulting written biographies. Little Ashes does nothing to illuminate the iconic Spanish artist.

The Rookie is Clint Eastwood's ultimate cops 'n' robbers fantasy, where all the cars are sex machines, all the guns shoot loud and hard, and real men say things like, ''Wanna guarantee? Buy a toaster.'' [07 Dec 1990, p.4D]

Makes its point ham-fistedly and then devolves into a blood-spattered slasher movie. It also unashamedly cribs from more disturbing films like "Straw Dogs," "Funny Games" and "A Clockwork Orange."

It's been a long time since a movie wasted as much talent as Stand Up Guys, a film that aims to be a geezer "Goodfellas" but whose execution is a misfire.

If "You've Got Mail" jangled your nerves with its Starbucks-fueled cuteness, here's a romance that goes down like instant decaf. [15 January 1999, Life, p.18E]

Unfortunately, Leo is the only well-developed character in a handsomely mounted but tedious drama with an impressive international cast.

Hart is much like Murphy: fast-talking, mischievous and irresistible. He's so confident and good-natured that we see how Angela fell for her pint-sized slacker.

Based on a popular children's book by Chris Van Allsburg and directed by that "Honey, I Shrunk the Kids" guy Joe Johnston, Jumanji is a calculated but very entertaining special effects extravaganza. [15Dec1995 Pg. 01.D]

This may be the most laugh-free comedy of the year.

It seems as if no professional actors were hired in the making of this motion picture.

As funny as it can be, this underdawg comedy isn't much more than Sandler's golf-oriented "Happy Gilmore" with a Cajun accent. [6 November 1998, p. 10E]

All coy and fey -- and painless to digest.

It's an awkward jumble whose only value is as a forum for movie junkies to track the progress of half-a-dozen screen careers at once.

As thrilling as the adventure sequences might be for kids, the better scenes take place on the high school campus.

It's a silly good time, and that's something these days.

A misguided attempt at comedy that needs to go last on anyone's list of movie options.

This is for those who like their political thrillers far-fetched, far-reaching and filled with pretty people.

Kick-Ass is a prime example of a movie that never should have bothered with a sequel. Not only is its successor played-out, but it revels in carnage while lacking the visual style and gleeful humor of the original.

Hell Baby is what happens when you try to parody a parody. The result is a film that's less than half as funny as its predecessor, and a sliver as clever as the original.

After a half-hour or so, your clicker finger will be itching. Too bad you can't zap around the other multiplex screens. [17 Aug 1992, p.4D]

Just like its albino-like villains, this Village is a pale imitation. [28 Apr 1995, p.3D]

And as nice as it is to see dishy Jennifer Connelly roller-skate down the store's aisles, the scene is just one more instance of obvious padding to push the running time to (just) past 80 minutes. [2 Apr 1991, p.6D]

As clunky and humorless as its title.

The result is a generic saga with a cast of forgettable one-dimensional characters

Glaringly lacking in the film are any original Stones songs. The group, who fired Jones just before his death, must not have thought much of the movie if they didn't allow their music to be used. Smart fellows.

An all-star slow-burn mystery for much of its 102-minute runtime until it suddenly decides to become a vomitous reveal-fest doling out all its twists as fast as possible. A storytelling choice, for sure, and one that wastes a talented crew of actors and fails to pay proper homage to the old-school films it references.

The improvised dialogue has a no-holds-barred quality that can hit or miss. But when it hits, it can be hysterical.

The story is about as good as the average TV cop drama. But here actions speak far louder than words, and Seagal is quite eloquent. Rather than weapons, he prefers a hands-on approach to his enemies. Twisted limbs are his specialty. [12 Feb 1990, p.2D]

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

It might be that Jarmusch (Broken Flowers) is experimenting with creating a pastiche of dreamlike sequences that audiences can interpret as they wish. Or it may be merely pretension and hubris that fuels such a stylized and insubstantial story.

Young directed under his preferred nom de plume (Bernard Shakey), and you'll either want to see this or you won't. Will it influence your decision to add that Devo - yes, Devo - plays nuclear power workers who glow? [01 Sep 1995, p.12D]

Nichols usually can lure A-list casts to even C-grade projects, and this is no exception.

A potential howler done in by a tendency to wear too much body tissue on its sleeve.

Indisputably the most violent film of the year and disputably the worst.

G-Force is unlikely to keep anyone older than 10 on the edge of his seat, and the bathroom humor may annoy adults. But the message of unity, while unoriginal, is consistently sweet.

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]

What keeps it all watchable is Rodriguez’s magnetism.

Fans of the stars should be satisfied. Those allergic to car chases, casual killings and the phrase "Oh, s - - -!" may suffer hives. [7 April 1995, p.3D]

The film has its funny moments, but they are too few to make the holiday excursion worthwhile.

What we get is a tweaked variation on the litany of men-disguised-as-women comedies: "Some Like It Hot" and "Tootsie," just for starters. Obviously, this sassy farce sounds recycled and certainly appears to be in the coming attraction. Yet it's also funnier than expected in ways you wouldn't expect.

Chappie is meant to inspire questions about what it means to be human, and at times it does. However, director and co-writer Neill Blomkamp doesn't explore its intriguing premise deeply enough.

The movie's appeal is largely the result of the perfectly cast James Marsden as Fred, a lovable slacker who accidentally injures a floppy-eared rabbit who calls himself E.B. (perfectly voiced by Russell Brand).

While there is a pleasantness about this faithful Shakespearean reboot, there also is some woeful miscasting and a lukewarm feeling about the straightforward production.

Dog lovers will instantly warm to the handsome stray collie mix, but they may struggle to fully embrace the amiable but toothless adult story surrounding him.

When the cast starts wondering where the roadkill is, someone says, "Follow the smell." Good tip: That's how you'll know where Wax is playing.

What it isn't ... is a particularly compelling contribution to the impressive and by now enormous collection of Holocaust movies.

You keep waiting for there to be more, but there never is -- other than the fact that it all gets gorier and uglier as the dyspeptic look on Jones' face progresses from a four- to a six-a-day scotch-and-peppermint schnapps hangover.

This joyless coming-of-age travelogue is such a downer that not even breathtaking locales can provide a lift.

In the last five minutes the film shifts gears and offers a tribute to law enforcement. But this tacked-on resolution is as sticky and fake as Sean Penn's make-up job.

In its third go-round, the Lethal Weapon arsenal is running out of ammunition. [15 May 1992]

Instead of scoring belly laughs, there's a run on randy guy banter between Duchovny and Jones.

Turns out to be a tepid thriller that promises more than it delivers.

There's virtually nothing new in the dull Paranormal Activity 4 except for a modification in the method of documenting the spooky shenanigans.

The Power of One plays like a plot-heavy South African fairy tale with one too many big, bad wolves. [27 March 1992, p.4D]

Except for one good recurring gag with a brakeless Cadillac, Fletch Lives is best when it's most offensive. What an unprecedented thing to say about a Chevy Chase movie - but it's true. Compared to much of the rest here, Chase's airplane nose-picking is pretty funny. [17 March 1989, p.4D]

Employing Navy troops as stars is a clever idea for an action thriller. But the soldiers' awkward line readings are glaring enough to distract from the potency of the story.

The raucous comedy fails to keep up with its charismatic star.

This ill-conceived sequel to 2011's entertaining Horrible Bosses is base, moronic, insulting and vulgar. It's also cringingly unfunny.

Final is a bad-line hoot-a-rama. Gere after aiding an Hispanic criminal: ''If Pepe is safe, then we are all safe.'' Basinger on her marriage: ''We share an apartment - emphasis on apart.'' But every joke needs a punchline. Alas, the finale of Final Analysis - the worst case of Vertigo sickness since Mel Brooks' High Anxiety - is just punch-drunk. [7 Feb 1992, p.5D]

If Mel Brooks were to team up with Tim Burton, the result might be something like the loony and colorfully tantalizing animated film Igor.

When the comedy connects, it can deliver with funny force

Clumsy, miscast thriller.

It's dreadful, despite a solid cast that includes art-house heartthrob Ewan McGregor, Nick Nolte, Patricia Arquette and Josh Brolin. [17 Apr 1998]

This would be a lot more amusing if at least one street in town ran uphill; maybe it's generational, but does even Corey Feldman know what the title means? [11 Aug 1989, p.3D]

Compared to its ilk, Suicide Squad is an excellently quirky, proudly raised middle finger to the staid superhero-movie establishment.

The comedian's braggadocio here is more wearying than that of the most self-absorbed rapper. And worse, it comes at the expense of humor.

The real shocker is how many grown men it took to conceive and write this lamebrained tale.

Scotsman Gerard Butler does a fine job as the charismatic, ghostly character.

Dance Flick occasionally hits its mark with nimble execution. But too often it stumbles clumsily into bad taste.

It’s a lot of soapy melodrama and underdeveloped characters that never really go anywhere.

Wildly uneven collage of effects and live action is no Disney-bland vision of dreams gone bonkers. There's enough Freudian material to reupholster a thousand therapy couches.

At least this movie has flashes of humor, thought nearly all come courtesy of Newman. [12 February 1999, Life, p.8E]

The result is a convoluted mess that has one good twist and two good car chases. But it's hardly enough to bring this spy flick in from the cold.

Though the film opens with an intriguing burnished look, it bogs down about halfway through with talkiness and uneven pacing.

Overall, it's a gently bittersweet and affecting portrait.