Who would have thought an animated comedy satirizing the predictable nature of fairy tales could be so grim?

Not worth the ride.

Leaves a bad taste, not only because of its bad-luck timing, but also the staleness of its script.

Cloying and dated movie.

The film feels as calculatedly sentimental as one of those bland pink candy hearts.

Steer clear of Freedomland, the movie. Your time would be better spent reading Richard Price's much more compelling 1998 novel.

Ridiculousness needs to abound somewhat in a film like this — reality takes a seat early and often here — but Resurgence pushes everything to an egregiously over-the-top and often infuriating degree.

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.

Killers is dead on arrival: miscast, horribly paced and murderously uninvolving.

Kimberly Elise gives the best performance as a beleaguered woman with an abusive boyfriend (Michael Ealy).

Yogi Bear is a big boo-boo.

It fumbles because neither of the characters are particularly likable.

It's so-so. As in mediocre. Even gross-out comedies need the stink of genius.

One of the most violent opening scenes in screen history…Yet given such a visually adept exercise, the rest seems transparently off-the-cuff. There are obese trailer-camp porn stars, heavenly visions, a climactic rendition of Love Me Tender and no-point references to The Wizard of Oz - all of which top this two-hour farrago like a soggy tarp. [17 Aug 1990, Life, 4D]

The movie is a clunky, noisy contraption. Director Jon Turteltaub piles on gadgets and devices in the hopes we'll be dazzled enough to miss the story's lack of coherence and charm.

The best actor in Snow Dogs is a glowering Siberian husky named Demon. In fact, all the dogs in the movie do a better job than their human counterparts.

What it became was bad. A movie that hopes to blend "Lethal Weapon" with "Gladiator" winds up not being a fraction of either.

Trying to decipher all the convoluted pathways could drive you mad. Mostly, though, it is so ludicrous that it will unintentionally inspire laughter.

If you want to see actors hang from metal stairs, here's your funhouse. If you seek chills, stick with the twigs in The Blair Witch Project. [23 July 1999, p.12E]

This would be profoundly offensive, if you could tell what was going on. [15 Jun 1992, p.6D]

Desperately conceived by even the most insipid standards of contemporary teen-queen cinema, A Cinderella Story operates under a rotting pumpkin of a supposition.

The movie's premise is as dopey as they come: A serial killer with a conscience is killing other serial killers.

This come-down of a series capper is so arch and pompous amid its clanks and collisions that you can only snicker at the verbal wind that obscures the din of marauding machinery.

Instead of the inspired Brooks of Young Frankenstein, we get the middling Brooks of Spaceballs, in which you can see nearly every joke hovering like the Goodyear blimp. [28 July 1993, p.8D]

Much as they would like it to, basketball can't save the youthful inner-city players here. Nor does the ultra-fast-paced street version of the sport save this movie from predictability and tedium.

Audiences everywhere will tune out long before the projector does.

All this dreary movie has is a terrible whodunit payoff.

So unwatchably creaky that it's hard to believe director Mitchell Leisen filmed Murder at the Vanities (with its wildly demented Sweet Marijuana production number) the same year. [04 Dec 1998]