A handsome but riotously cluttered melodrama with maybe 145 subplots, it's the latest and least in a soulless string of preordained multiplex hits from the John Grisham warehouse. [24Jul1996 Pg. 10.B]

Let others recharge that tired Die Hard formula. Cameron invents a new kind of family therapy that saves your marriage and the world. [15 Jul 1994 Pg. 01.D]

It's still a sick kick to see the little girl (with braces, no less) sink her teeth into her own mother. But doing a Sunset of the Dead might have been a more appetizing idea. [23 Oct 1990, p.6D]

Though Walt Disney's Peter Pan once implored us never to smile at a crocodile, the Irwins' own home movie is worth a couple of chuckles. Shivers, too.

This Lynch-ian knockoff is moodily monotonal, but the sameness is wearying.

While not exactly a zero, 21 lags and fails to measure up dramatically.

It's undoubtedly a daunting role, and Morgado captures the gentle benevolence associated with the messianic figure. He doesn't, however, project the authority, gravitas or depth of a spiritual leader.

This Christmas Carol seems like a pale ghost of Dickens' magical Christmas classic.

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

Sometimes the most compelling real-life stories make better documentaries than dramas. Such would seem to be the case with The Children of Huang Shi.

So much effort seems to have gone into the eye-popping production design, swooping camera work and anachronistic musical score that the result is hyper-active cacophony rather than enthralling entertainment.

The film is one long Costco joke - but the punch line is never all that funny.

Déjà Vu cannot escape the weight of its murky science, action-film formula and preposterous ending.

A classic example of a second-rate courtroom drama.

A flimsy, occasionally spooky demon tale.

Lucky Numbers is anything but lucky for stars John Travolta and Lisa Kudrow.

Ryder's commitment is impressive. If her movie only had her courage.

The movie establishes good will (or even great will) in the initial scenes because it's so gorgeous, but the rest is such a slog.

Tolerably tepid.

The tone is consistent, but consistently uneventful. [06 May 1994]

What undercuts sharper than Poseidon's trident is a script that sees its characters as cardboard, not flesh and blood. For a film meant to be spectacle over substance, it's not a fatal blow. But it is a mortal wound.

As the couple stand on the bluffs overlooking San Francisco Bay, you may find yourself wishing Forlani would push Prinze in.

Even in the junky potboilers that John Travolta has persisted in making since his "Pulp Fiction" comeback (all 5,000 of them), you usually get the sense that he's acting in his bailiwick.

While the film comes to a mildly clever conclusion, it feels like a bottle of vintage champagne that never gets to pop its cork at midnight. All that fizz potential wasted. [26 Feb 1999]

Despite an 87-minute running time, the movie takes a long time to get rolling, and even fellow Leigh enthusiasts may wonder whether the payoff is worth it, though reaction could well divide along sexual lines. [7 Aug 1997, p.3D]

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

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.

Pratt can do lovable rogue in his sleep at this point, and Brown’s got a spunky young woman down pat. Both of them have some good lines and emotional moments but they mostly feel plug-and-play rather than mining anything new and exciting.