You have to work hard to make an African vacation seem unpleasant. And Adam Sandler nearly pulls it off in Blended.

Willis' performance mystifies, while Mos Def's mesmerizes.

The live-action elements — mostly in the person of Antonio Banderas as cranky pirate Burger Beard, who spends most of his time addressing a flock of seagulls — don't mesh seamlessly with the animated sequences. It almost feels like two movies awkwardly melded together.

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.

Swarms of flies, oozing pustules, alligator attacks and gaggles of frogs are vividly rendered in three dimensions in Exodus: Gods and Kings. And yet this biblical epic is still bland, overly long and otherwise forgettable.

The Black Dahlia captivates with its dark style. But as with the particulars of the yet-unsolved case, the movie is frustratingly convoluted. What it accomplishes with its stunning cinematography and set design is undercut by a lack of coherence.

With its ho-hum performances, muddled point of view, inert plot and pedestrian writing, all that's left to appreciate are the sumptuous costumes, elaborate hairstyles and rococo production design, which are not enough to sustain any movie, even one set in the gilded splendor of Versailles.

Watching this movie feels a bit like being trapped on a weekend holiday with an unpredictable and seriously unhappy group of people.

Point Break points up inherent limitations in the "star" rating system. Its purely visceral material (surf sounds, skydiving stunt work, a tough indoor shootout midway through) are first-rate. As for the tangibles that matter even more (script, acting, directorial control, credible relationships between characters), Break defies belief. Dramatically, it rivals the lowest surf yet this year. [12 July 1991, p.4D]

Almost nothing about Raising Helen rings very true, other than the camera's crush on Kate Hudson.

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

The Love Punch is a romantic comedy as painfully unfunny as a sock in the jaw.

Rather than offering new blood, Carrie is a purely cosmetic revamp.

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.

While teenage star Mckenna Grace infuses the aging property with a needed burst of youthful energy, co-writer/director Jason Reitman (son of original filmmaker Ivan Reitman) is more interested in looking backward with the sequel, leaning way too hard on old characters, story beats, plot points and zingers.

It isn't an unabashed movie-movie like the chest-thumping "Braveheart" or a cool, clinical semi-documentary like "The Battle of Algiers". There are elements of both here and they just don't dance. [11 Oct 1996, Pg.03.D]

What keeps it all watchable is Rodriguez’s magnetism.

The Glass Castle offers up a movie clan to beat in terms of complete dysfunction, though the brutal and heart-wrenching film is in its own way just as much of a mess.

Has some strong acting. But largely because of its glacial pacing, the story ends up feeling too detached to move us as it should.

At least 2 Fast is self-aware enough to know that it's trash, which is worth half a bonus point. Lack of pretension helps the viewer get over the fact that this is just another retread.

Even though the special effects and action sequences are good, the monsters conjured up are rather humdrum.

Writer/director Julie Dash pours on sounds, music and costuming for a tone more impressionistic than dramatic - and more somnambulant than either. She might have gotten away with it for 80 minutes, but merciless Dust closes in on the two-hour mark, a structural shambles in the too-earnest American Playhouse tradition. [1 April 1992, p.6D]

Not even Bill Murray could save Garfield. Perhaps the comedian -- so pitch-perfect as the sardonic actor in "Lost in Translation" -- got too deeply into character.

The movie is repetitious in some ways and superficial in others. But though Penn doesn't always seem to know where he's going, his movie doesn't altogether miss its destination. [15 Nov 1995, Pg.05.D]

The handsome production design notwithstanding, The Awakening is not an elegant thriller. It's more like solemn drivel.

The wrap-up feels tacked-on and too good to be true, with emotions the story really hasn't earned.

Action fans -- particularly devotees of brainless '80s shoot-em-ups -- may find enough to like here, particularly the preposterous mayhem of the third act.

Hoffman stores the plane fuel in his house and even enjoys sniffing it. The movie might be a lot more fun as a suspense pic were he to take on a roommate who chained-smoked.