There's sad news to report about The Adventures of Sharkboy and Lavagirl in 3-D: Put on the cardboard glasses, and you can still see the movie.

Perhaps there was a clever germ of an idea here, but the five credited writers didn't develop characters, scenarios or rules in this sci-fi world well enough to engage the audience.

Filled with laughable dialogue, Abduction goes nowhere.

It's an unrelentingly brutal movie set in an unusually scenic locale — the coastal city of Valparaiso, Chile.

There isn't much in the way of plot to get in the way of Sandler's world: There's poo, ripped pants and hot girls falling for fat guys.

Each actor does his own thing for his own audience demographic.

The Package could be the most forgettable movie title since Michael Caine and Richard Gere did Beyond the Limit; with luck, audiences will even forget the film itself was made. And why was it? Possibly to prove that Gene Hackman, at 58, can still survive as many lousy movies as Caine. [25 Aug 1989, p.4D]

It's an idea that might have made for a mildly intriguing skit, but blown out into a full-length feature it's at best campy and at worst an amateurish, sentimental schlock-fest.

I cry for I Spy— or I would if this latest and laziest imaginable of all vintage-TV spinoffs were capable of engendering an emotional response of any kind. Comas are physical, not emotional.

A wan version of the same old tired serial killer story, despite its updated milieu -- cyberspace.

The Romantics is a misnomer. "The Spoiled Melodramatics" would be more accurate. Or better yet, "The Pretentious Ones."

The movie is what it is, a deadeningly literal look at ozone spiritualists and s-&-m purveyors (possibly one and the same) who toss some very spirited pool parties. A better title than the current marquee anonymity might be Naked Brunch. [16 Sept 1994, p.5D]

The soundtrack for the P.T Barnum biopic musical The Greatest Showman is chock full of amazing and catchy tunes you’ll be humming after the credits roll...The actual movie? Send in the clowns.

The only thing a movie this unrefined needs is a vaudevillian in baggy pants and someone hawking peanuts in the aisle.

This would-be tribute to youthful anarchy fails the junior-high acid test: Will my parents hate it? Dead is too dead on arrival to inspire much emotion either way. [07 June 1991, p.5D]

This one's aimed at those airheads who, like George, have been swinging on a grapevine and slamming into too many trees. [16 July 1997, p. 3D]

For all his talent, Martin Short has been consistently snakebitten in his choice of movies, a streak now extended by Disney's Jungle2 Jungle. Worse, this laugh-numbing venom has been transfused to co-star Tim Allen, until now a consistently successful big bwana in movies and bookstores and on TV. [07 Mar 1997, p.4D]

Deeply crude as an overused latrine and defiantly non-P.C., the best you can say about the aptly titled Major Payne is that it's somewhat more tolerable than star Damon Wayans' last fumbled effort, the also well-named Blankman. [24 March 1995, p.8D]

The shenanigans of randy soccer moms and their obnoxious blowhard husbands are intended as comic relief. But the sappy plot of this formulaic romantic comedy is just as silly as its inane attempts at farce.

Too slight and pointless.

In Roy Orbison terms, enduring this movie is like working for The Man.

Somewhere amid the mind-numbing barrage of action sequences there's a story based on Greek mythology. But its essence is buried amid the clatter.

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]

When the most notable thing a film offers is the sight of Dennis Farina in drag, you can't expect much.

Poseidon is a sodden saga, with a script that is awash in clichés. It nearly drowns under the weight of its own soggy tedium.

It’s a dunderheaded follow-up, for sure, but it’s at least buoyed by Chris Hemsworth’s charisma and the few times where Winter’s War embraces complete camp.

Don't buy a ticket for this one, even if the theater is having a fire sale on Raisinets.

Despite Paul Newman and Lee Marvin, a deserving flop about modern-day cattle hucksters; at times here (call the rest home), I think Newman sounds like Wally Cox. [01 Mar 1991, p.3D]

Despite some high-caliber voice talent and shimmering animation, it's hard to get a bead on this tale.

There's nothing exciting about this awful, over-the-top reboot.

May be a spectacularly awful movie, but it's also spectacularly drenched in color, décor and other visual oh-la-la.

Alicia Vikander worked herself into hardbody shape for Tomb Raider, which by contrast is a flabby, lazy mess.

With only momentary grandmaster flashes of brainless fun, too much of CB4 belongs in the hip-hopper. [12 Mar 1993, p.8D]

Nothing works in this over-elaborate let's-kidnap-a-kid melodrama. [24 Aug 1990]

A plethora of beats drop but little else of note — musical or otherwise — happens in the Zac Efron DJ fest We Are Your Friends.

More often the film succumbs to clichés, grows convoluted and outlandish, and winds up dead on arrival.

It's a pretty twisted concept, bordering on offensive. But mostly it's just not funny.

A movie that has neither dramatic focus nor a single memorable performance, aside from one or two that are memorable for the wrong reasons?

To be charitable, the film's point of view is consistent, and there's a clever bit (very late) involving construction equipment. There isn't however, even a fourth-cousin to a laugh in this very strange public suicide. [29 July 1991, p.4D]

All this movie has in common with its ancestor are speedboats, shotguns and drug-dealing Colombians.

This road-trip piffle is basically a male version of a chick-bonding flick.

Most Ender's fans, of course, won't care about comparisons and consider the film adaptation a long-awaited victory in itself. Those fresh to the tale — or at least expecting something fresh from it — may wonder what the fuss was about.

The story's appeal is lost in all the fights between the monsters and robots.

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

When movies have degraded to the point that Tyson is acting more than Quentin Tarantino is directing, maybe it is time for an industry shutdown, strike-induced or otherwise.

Oscar is a marathon of running gags, but few cross the finish line. [26 Apr 1991, p.4D]

A nose-bleeding mass murderer wears a mask that suggests Roger Ebert is knocking off a group of lifelong female friends.

OK, Time Warner, a joke is a joke, but the time of tolerance has passed. Get your creatures out of our faces unless you're willing to regale us by afflicting them with Mad Pokémon Disease.

Actor John Corbett, so clean-cut in "My Big Fat Greek Wedding" and "Raising Helen," goes surprisingly scruffy here as someone who apparently studied music under Grizzly Adams.

Myopic Whitey, continually passed over for a lifetime achievement athletic award, bears a passing resemblance to Columbia's all-time No. 1 animated star, the nearsighted Mr. Magoo. It's nice to think that if he ever went to this movie, he wouldn't be able to see it.

Appallingly mean-spirited.

It doesn't take a world-class navigator to figure out that any movie with Martin Short in the straight role and Kurt Russell in the funny role is already way off course. Captain Ron is about as amusing as an anchor dropped on your foot. [21 Sep 1992, p.5D]

Ellen Barkin is an itchy-twitchy stitch in Switch. As a murdered Casanova who comes back to life as a blond bombshell, she's a physical-comedy sensation on par with Steve Martin in All of Me. But that's only 15 minutes of laugh-worthy material. The rest of Switch is a big turnoff. [10 May 1991, p.2D]

The movie is devoid of laughs, except for a mildly funny segment when one of the chipmunks inhales helium. And since this is aimed at the under-10 set, it includes the requisite flatulence joke and a spit take or two.

Never was a film so visually stunning and so intolerable as To the Wonder.

Friedberg, who previously made Nielsen's golfing video and rental car commercials, knows only the low road -- and gets lost anyway. [24 May 1996, Pg.04.D]

Clumsy urban thriller.

Costner, allegedly smitten with his client, had more chemistry with the Warren Commission in JFK. [25 Nov 1992, p.1D]

Earth to Earth's young director, Mark Piznarksi : It's tough turning straw into gold, isn't it?

A disappointing effort from a master filmmaker, Billy Lynn’s Long Halftime Walk trips in all the wrong places.

There's nothing wrong in the setup: It worked fine in films like "Adventures in Babysitting" and "Uncle Buck." But director David Gordon Green populates the movie with so many soap opera asides it's hard to keep count.

There's no substitute for bad taste. And this one has it double-barreled, both in the timing of its release and as a movie, one said to be loosely based on fact.

The movie runs just 80 minutes, but it's enough time for doldrums to set in when nifty special effects and funny verbal exchanges are out grabbing a smoke. [19 Feb 1993, Life, p.5D]

With its excessive sleaze and gross-out gags, Soul Plane overshoots effective spoofery. Mostly it's a foul, eye-rolling experience.

Besides the inevitable devious government types, there are anemic subplots about a fanatical priest and an abused mother and child. Let's see. This is your brain: MMMMMMMMM. This is your brain watching The Lawnmower Man: ZZZZZZZZZ. [6 Mar 1992, p.4D]

Kris Kristofferson, as a scaled-down old gray mentor to Blade, still looks like the visual equivalent of your five worst college hangovers.

Filmmakers must have been tripping pretty badly when they made High School, a flub that's about as lucid as a stoner at a spelling bee.

There's so little action or suspense that this Cell isn't too likely to multiply itself into a sequel.

The script, based on a novel by Scientology founder L. Ron Hubbard, is deeply dumb, depressingly derivative (ripping off "Planet of the Apes" the most) and just plain nonsense.

Making matters worse is the number of clips from old scary movies that pop up, including quintessential Dracula turns by Bela Lugosi and Christopher Lee. They only serve to mock Landis' pale efforts. One thing's for sure - Innocent Blood won't become immortal. [25 Sept 1992, p.5D]

This insipid, and sometimes awkward, blend of animation, computer generation and live action wastes a ton of talent and lacks a true sense of whimsy.

This warm-weather variation on the original, once again set in a small Minnesota town, is in dire need of Geritol. Or a dose of ginseng. Or Ex-Lax. Anything to get things moving faster than this turgid replay. [22 Dec 1995, p.3D]

Director George Cosmatos brings nothing new to this Wyatt Earp saga except leftover bullets from previous films Cobra and Rambo: First Blood Part II. [23 Dec 1993, p.5D]

With its Rocky Horror meets Camelot aura, this little black movie reeks of self-satisfied smugness and pretentious perversity as only a Sundance Festival favorite can -- especially one that squanders the considerable quirky charms of indie-film darling Parker Posey. [10Oct1997 pg 04.D]

Sometimes laughably incoherent.

Mortal Thoughts is a mystery that any halfway-OK hack might turn into a halfway-OK movie by bagging all pretense to art and simply telling a story. But that isn't the style of Alan Rudolph, whose last space shot was Love at Large; the result is a quirky boo-boo I suspect is already halfway out of theaters. [19 Apr 1991, p.2D]

A substandard ebony-and-ivory buddy pic.

An American Affair is sordid business blandly portrayed and not worth meddling with.

The opening frame of Jonah Hex should say: "Caution: Made expressly for the male teen demographic. Not suitable for anyone of any age who prefers movies with coherence, an original plot or characters they give a hoot about."

Instead of Hitchcockian flair, there's Silver-ian excess: Women treated like meat, maimings in close-up, plot craters. [07 Oct 1991, p.4D]

Couldn't be murkier or less emotionally involving if it were "The Matrix 8," a natural observation because Keanu Reeves stars in both.

Mother Nature has always gotten the Cindy Crawford treatment from director Carroll Ballard (The Black Stallion, Never Cry Wolf). And he does right by Wind's splashy backdrop of America's Cup boat racing, as the camera bobs and weaves about like a wave-whipped buoy. Too bad there has to be a story, for Wind becomes so much hot air whenever it stays on land. [11 Sep 1992, p.8D]

It's a mess with sporadic flashes of creativity. Someone should have gone back to the drawing board. [19 July 1996, p.13D]

Tooth Fairy will make your teeth ache and your skin crawl.

Like fellow SCTV alumnus John Candy, Short has been shortchanged by the big screen. If anyone deserves a change of Luck, he does. [09 Aug 1991, p.5D]

Though it has flashes of promise, Bones traces the footsteps of its fantasy film predecessors too closely to blaze anything close to an original narrative.

Cradle settles for saying ''boo'' when it could have said a lot more about parental fears. [10 Jan 1992, p.4D]

It ends up choking on a never-ending stream of inept gags... A worst-case scenario of wackiness gone out of whack. [24 May 1991]

It's a dated effort.

Frequent Disney scripter Tom Schulman won an Oscar for Dead Poets Society. His latest, Medicine Man, ought to be in the Dead Movies Society. [07 Feb 1992, p.5D]

Far-fetched, flimsy and uninvolving.

The director is Rowdy Herrington , whose penchant for the silly in Patrick Swayze's Road House will serve as able cross-reference. Among the capable actors wasted are Dennehy, Robert Loggia, Ossie Davis and Cuba Gooding Jr. from Boyz N the Hood. Soft-spoken Heard is supposedly an ace traveling salesman, but won't be doing Music Man revivals soon. [6 March 1992, p.4D]

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

Unless it becomes a camp classic, Cain will soon go the way of Abel. [07 Aug 1992, p.2D]

Vardalos' comedic style is old-fashioned in the worst way; her humor is stodgier than the most retro Catskills laughmeister.

If your idea of a good time is watching a disjointed period piece featuring a scrawny dog defecating, dozens of dissipated people fornicating and a syphilitic Johnny Depp with oozing pustules on his face, The Libertine may be just the movie for you.

Don't expect the seventh Star Wars film here. Star Wars: The Clone Wars is more like a long Saturday morning cartoon.

Given its complete lack of suspense, eroticism, ensemble acting, and other mere tangibles, Paul Schrader's The Comfort of Strangers (with a Harold Pinter script) is destined to wind up lacking even a modest theatrical run. [29 Mar 1991, p.5D]