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doesn't really add up to much . 
it's better suited for the history or biography channel , but there's no arguing the tone of the movie - it leaves a bad taste in your mouth and questions on your mind . 
an entertainment so in love with its overinflated mythology that it no longer recognizes the needs of moviegoers for real characters and compelling plots . 
a prolonged extrusion of psychopathic pulp . 
borrows from other movies like it in the most ordinary and obvious fashion . 
it's surprisingly bland despite the heavy doses of weird performances and direction . 
a chilly , remote , emotionally distant piece . . . so dull that its tagline should be : 'in space , no one can hear you snore . '
the characters seem one-dimensional , and the film is superficial and will probably be of interest primarily to its target audience . 
sorvino makes the princess seem smug and cartoonish , and the film only really comes alive when poor hermocrates and leontine pathetically compare notes about their budding amours . 
it's like a drive-by . you can drive right by it without noticing anything special , save for a few comic turns , intended and otherwise . 
everything -- even life on an aircraft carrier -- is sentimentalized . 
this would-be 'james bond for the extreme generation' pic is one big , dumb action movie . stress 'dumb . '
the movie has generic virtues , and despite a lot of involved talent , seems done by the numbers . 
when your subject is illusion versus reality , shouldn't the reality seem at least passably real ? 
it's a terrible movie in every regard , and utterly painful to watch . 
this is rote spookiness , with nary an original idea ( or role , or edit , or score , or anything , really ) in sight , and the whole of the proceedings beg the question 'why ? '
a fan film that for the uninitiated plays better on video with the sound turned down . 
too infuriatingly quirky and taken with its own style . 
there's a whole heap of nothing at the core of this slight coming-of-age/coming-out tale . 
as much as i laughed throughout the movie , i cannot mount a cogent defense of the film as entertainment , or even performance art , although the movie does leave you marveling at these guys' superhuman capacity to withstand pain . 
the type of dumbed-down exercise in stereotypes that gives the [teen comedy] genre a bad name . 
distinctly sub-par . . . more likely to drown a viewer in boredom than to send any shivers down his spine . 
plays like a bad blend of an overripe episode of tv's dawson's creek and a recycled and dumbed-down version of love story . 
unless you come in to the film with a skateboard under your arm , you're going to feel like you weren't invited to the party . 
when the casting call for this movie went out , it must have read 'seeking anyone with acting ambition but no sense of pride or shame . '
just isn't as weird as it ought to be . 
a " home alone " film that is staged like " rosemary's baby , " but is not as well-conceived as either of those films . 
[siegel] and co-writers lisa bazadona and grace woodard have relied too much on convention in creating the characters who surround frankie . 
no film could possibly be more contemptuous of the single female population . 
`hey arnold ! ' has some visual wit . . . but little imagination elsewhere . 
they're going through the motions , but the zip is gone . 
a sluggish pace and lack of genuine narrative hem the movie in every bit as much as life hems in the spirits of these young women . 
a low-budget affair , tadpole was shot on digital video , and the images often look smeary and blurry , to the point of distraction . then again , in a better movie , you might not have noticed . 
it's mindless junk like this that makes you appreciate original romantic comedies like punch-drunk love . 
the movie is like a year late for tapping into our reality tv obsession , and even tardier for exploiting the novelty of the " webcast . " 
tale will be all too familiar for anyone who's seen george roy hill's 1973 film , " the sting . " 
gets the look and the period trappings right , but it otherwise drowns in a sea of visual and verbal clichés . 
it's hard to quibble with a flick boasting this many genuine cackles , but notorious c . h . o . still feels like a promising work-in-progress . 
anyone who wants to start writing screenplays can just follow the same blueprint from hundreds of other films , sell it to the highest bidder and walk away without anyone truly knowing your identity . 
a major waste . . . generic . 
the problem with the bread , my sweet is that it's far too sentimental . 
a late-night cable sexploitation romp masquerading as a thriller about the ruthless social order that governs college cliques . 
falls short in explaining the music and its roots . 
never inspires more than an interested detachment . 
what might have emerged as hilarious lunacy in the hands of woody allen or mel brooks ( at least during their '70s heyday ) comes across as lame and sophomoric in this debut indie feature . 
despite slick production values and director roger michell's tick-tock pacing , the final effect is like having two guys yelling in your face for two hours . 
pretty much sucks , but has a funny moment or two . 
they do a good job of painting this family dynamic for the audience but they tried to squeeze too many elements into the film . 
a supernatural mystery that doesn't know whether it wants to be a suspenseful horror movie or a weepy melodrama . it ends up being neither , and fails at both endeavors . 
two badly interlocked stories drowned by all too clever complexity . 
it is so earnest , so overwrought and so wildly implausible that it begs to be parodied . 
these are textbook lives of quiet desperation . 
swimfan , like fatal attraction , eventually goes overboard with a loony melodramatic denouement in which a high school swimming pool substitutes for a bathtub . 
claims to sort the bad guys from the good , which is its essential problem . 
purposefully shocking in its eroticized gore , if unintentionally dull in its lack of poetic frissons . 
feels like pieces a bunch of other , better movies slapped together . 
almost everything about the film is unsettling , from the preposterous hairpiece worn by lai's villainous father to the endless action sequences . 
writer-director randall wallace has bitten off more than he or anyone else could chew , and his movie veers like a drunken driver through heavy traffic . 
it follows the blair witch formula for an hour , in which we're told something creepy and vague is in the works , and then it goes awry in the final 30 minutes . 
one can't shake the feeling that crossroads is nothing more than an hour-and-a-half-long commercial for britney's latest album . 
phoned-in business as usual . 
there's an epic here , but you have to put it together yourself . 
what little atmosphere is generated by the shadowy lighting , macabre sets , and endless rain is offset by the sheer ugliness of everything else . 
director-chef gabriele muccino keeps it fast -- zippy , comin' at ya -- as if fearing that his film is molto superficiale . 
tartakovsky's team has some freakish powers of visual charm , but the five writers slip into the modern rut of narrative banality . 
the most horrific movie experience i've had since " can't stop the music . " it may as well be called " jar-jar binks : the movie . " it's that painful . 
god is great , the movie's not . 
like a three-ring circus , there are side stories aplenty -- none of them memorable . 
when in doubt , the film ratchets up the stirring soundtrack , throws in a fish-out-of-water gag and lets the cliched dialogue rip . or else a doggie winks . 
a 'girls gone wild' video for the boho art-house crowd , the burning sensation isn't a definitive counter-cultural document -- its makers aren't removed and inquisitive enough for that . 
as original and insightful as last week's episode of behind the music . 
plays like john le carré with a couple of burnt-out cylinders . 
you may be galled that you've wasted nearly two hours of your own precious life with this silly little puddle of a movie . 
it's neither as sappy as big daddy nor as anarchic as happy gilmore or the waterboy , but it has its moments . 
despite the surface attractions -- conrad l . hall's cinematography will likely be nominated for an oscar next year -- there's something impressive and yet lacking about everything . 
a smug and convoluted action-comedy that doesn't allow an earnest moment to pass without reminding audiences that it's only a movie . 
[crystal and de niro] manage to squeeze out some good laughs but not enough to make this silly con job sing . 
worthless , from its pseudo-rock-video opening to the idiocy of its last frames . 
the christ allegory doesn't work because there is no foundation for it
go for la salle's performance , and make do as best you can with a stuttering script . 
it's hard to care about a film that proposes as epic tragedy the plight of a callow rich boy who is forced to choose between his beautiful , self-satisfied 22-year-old girlfriend and an equally beautiful , self-satisfied 18-year-old mistress . 
tries too hard to be funny in a way that's too loud , too goofy and too short of an attention span . 
i didn't find much fascination in the swinging . what they're doing is a matter of plumbing arrangements and mind games , of no erotic or sensuous charge . but that they are doing it is thought-provoking . 
the acting is just fine , but there's not enough substance here to sustain interest for the full 90 minutes , especially with the weak payoff . 
after collateral damage , you might imagine that most every aggrieved father cliché has been unturned . but no . 
ultimately the , yes , snail-like pacing and lack of thematic resonance make the film more silly than scary , like some sort of martha stewart decorating program run amok . 
releasing a film with the word 'dog' in its title in january lends itself to easy jokes and insults , and snow dogs deserves every single one of them . 
tedious norwegian offering which somehow snagged an oscar nomination . 
it was a dark and stormy night . . . 
a dark-as-pitch comedy that frequently veers into corny sentimentality , probably would not improve much after a therapeutic zap of shock treatment . 
this sort of cute and cloying material is far from zhang's forte and it shows . 
bray is completely at sea ; with nothing but a savage garden music video on his resume , he has no clue about making a movie . 
freundlich's made [crudup] a suburban architect , and a cipher . 
a huge disappointment coming , as it does , from filmmakers and performers of this calibre
though it pretends to expose the life of male hustlers , it's exploitive without being insightful . 
aimed squarely at the least demanding of demographic groups : very small children who will be delighted simply to spend more time with familiar cartoon characters . 
what starts off as a satisfying kids flck becomes increasingly implausible as it races through contrived plot points . 
exhibits the shallow sensationalism characteristic of soap opera . . . more salacious telenovela than serious drama . 
seagal is painfully foolish in trying to hold onto what's left of his passe' chopsocky glory . 
even with harris's strong effort , the script gives him little to effectively probe lear's soul-stripping breakdown . 
the story is bogus and its characters tissue-thin . 
whereas the extremely competent hitman films such as pulp fiction and get shorty resonate a sardonic verve to their caustic purpose for existing , who is cletis tout ? is an inexpressible and drab wannabe looking for that exact niche . 
while american adobo has its heart ( and its palate ) in the right place , its brain is a little scattered -- ditsy , even . 
 . . . a confusing drudgery . 
imagine a film that begins as a seven rip-off , only to switch to a mix of the shining , the thing , and any naked teenagers horror flick from the 1980s . 
most of the dialogue made me want to pack raw dough in my ears . 
costner's warm-milk persona is just as ill-fitting as shadyac's perfunctory directing chops , and some of the more overtly silly dialogue would sink laurence olivier . 
it's coherent , well shot , and tartly acted , but it wears you down like a dinner guest showing off his doctorate . 
directed by kevin bray , whose crisp framing , edgy camera work , and wholesale ineptitude with acting , tone and pace very obviously mark him as a video helmer making his feature debut . 
turns a potentially interesting idea into an excruciating film school experience that plays better only for the film's publicists or for people who take as many drugs as the film's characters
robin williams departs from his fun friendly demeanor in exchange for a darker unnerving role . 
high crimes is a cinematic misdemeanor , a routine crime thriller remarkable only for its lack of logic and misuse of two fine actors , morgan freeman and ashley judd . 
set in a 1986 harlem that doesn't look much like anywhere in new york . 
the chocolate factory without charlie . 
long on twinkly-eyed close-ups and short on shame . 
hip-hop rarely comes alive as its own fire-breathing entity in this picture . 
a well-crafted letdown . 
a dull , somnambulant exercise in pretension whose pervasive quiet is broken by frequent outbursts of violence and noise . 
deserving of its critical backlash and more . 
boring and meandering . 
neither a rousing success nor a blinding embarrassment . still , it just sits there like a side dish no one ordered . 
the sum of all fears is remarkably fuddled about motives and context , which drains it of the dramatic substance that would shake us in our boots ( or cinema seats ) . 
the movie spends more time with schneider than with newcomer mcadams , even though her performance is more interesting ( and funnier ) than his . 
this low-rent -- and even lower-wit -- rip-off of the farrelly brothers' oeuvre gets way too mushy -- and in a relatively short amount of time . 
it recycles every cliché about gays in what is essentially an extended soap opera . 
i'm all for the mentally challenged getting their fair shot in the movie business , but surely it doesn't have to be as a collection of keening and self-mutilating sideshow geeks . 
may offend viewers not amused by the sick sense of humor . 
many of benjamins' elements feel like they've been patched in from an episode of miami vice . 
it aimlessly and unsuccessfully attempts to fuse at least three dull plots into one good one . 
most folks with a real stake in the american sexual landscape will find it either moderately amusing or just plain irrelevant . 
if you're not fans of the adventues of steve and terri , you should avoid this like the dreaded king brown snake . personally , i'd rather watch them on the animal planet . 
cherish is a dud -- a romantic comedy that's not the least bit romantic and only mildly funny . 
feels as if the inmates have actually taken over the asylum . 
all of the filmmakers' calculations can't rescue brown sugar from the curse of blandness . 
the movie's gloomy atmosphere is fascinating , though , even if the movie itself doesn't stand a ghost of a chance . 
 . . . post-september 11 , " the sum of all fears " seems more tacky and reprehensible , manipulating our collective fear without bestowing the subject with the intelligence or sincerity it unequivocally deserves . 
the exclamation point seems to be the only bit of glee you'll find in this dreary mess . 
no matter how you slice it , mark wahlberg and thandie newton are not hepburn and grant , two cinematic icons with chemistry galore . 
godard's ode to tackling life's wonderment is a rambling and incoherent manifesto about the vagueness of topical excess . . . in praise of love remains a ponderous and pretentious endeavor that's unfocused and tediously exasperating . 
humorless , self-conscious art drivel , made without a glimmer of intelligence or invention . 
the movie's progression into rambling incoherence gives new meaning to the phrase 'fatal script error . '
solondz may be convinced that he has something significant to say , but he isn't talking a talk that appeals to me . 
more tiring than anything . 
nelson's intentions are good , but the end result does no justice to the story itself . it's horribly depressing and not very well done . 
 . . . the efforts of its star , kline , to lend some dignity to a dumb story are for naught . 
a good-natured ensemble comedy that tries hard to make the most of a bumper cast , but never quite gets off the ground . 
isn't it a bit early in his career for director barry sonnenfeld to do a homage to himself ? and it's a lousy one at that . 
overly long and worshipful bio-doc . 
i'll go out on a limb . it isn't quite one of the worst movies of the year . it's just merely very bad . 
writer-director ritchie reduces wertmuller's social mores and politics to tiresome jargon . 
about amy's cuteness , amy's career success ( she's a best-selling writer of self-help books who can't help herself ) , and amy's neuroses when it comes to men . 
everything about girls can't swim , even its passages of sensitive observation , feels secondhand , familiar -- and not in a good way . 
feels aimless for much of its running time , until late in the film when a tidal wave of plot arrives , leaving questions in its wake . 
less than fresh . 
in my own very humble opinion , in praise of love lacks even the most fragmented charms i have found in almost all of his previous works . 
the script is too mainstream and the psychology too textbook to intrigue . 
muddled , simplistic and more than a little pretentious . 
meandering and glacially paced , and often just plain dull . 
a disaster of a drama , saved only by its winged assailants . 
a road trip that will get you thinking , 'are we there yet ? '
director elie chouraqui , who co-wrote the script , catches the chaotic horror of war , but why bother if you're going to subjugate truth to the tear-jerking demands of soap opera ? 
dong never pushes for insights beyond the superficial tensions of the dynamic he's dissecting , and the film settles too easily along the contours of expectation . 
if there was any doubt that peter o'fallon didn't have an original bone in his body , a rumor of angels should dispel it . 
an occasionally interesting but mostly repetitive look at a slice of counterculture that might be best forgotten . 
what could have been right at home as a nifty plot line in steven soderbergh's traffic fails to arrive at any satisfying destination . 
the movie is like scorsese's mean streets redone by someone who ignored it in favor of old 'juvenile delinquent' paperbacks with titles like leather warriors and switchblade sexpot . 
this pathetic junk is barely an hour long . nevertheless , it still seems endless . 
it isn't that stealing harvard is a horrible movie—if only it were that grand a failure ! it's just that it's so not-at-all-good . and i expect much more from a talent as outstanding as director bruce mcculloch . 
dolman confines himself to shtick and sentimentality -- the one bald and the other sloppy . 
is it possible for a documentary to be utterly entranced by its subject and still show virtually no understanding of it ? 
it's supposed to be a romantic comedy - it suffers from too much norma rae and not enough pretty woman . 
the leads are so unmemorable , despite several attempts at lengthy dialogue scenes , that one eventually resents having to inhale this gutter romancer's secondhand material . 
the script ? please . 
staggers between flaccid satire and what is supposed to be madcap farce . 
not that any of us should be complaining when a film clocks in around 90 minutes these days , but the plotting here leaves a lot to be desired . 
brainy , artistic and muted , almost to the point of suffocation . 
plays like the old disease-of-the-week small-screen melodramas . 
like life on the island , the movie grows boring despite the scenery . 
the truth about charlie is that it's a brazenly misguided project . 
caso você sinta necessidade de sair da sala antes do término da projeção , não se preocupe : ninguém lhe enviará penas simbolizando covardia . 
displays the potential for a better movie than what bailly manages to deliver
so exaggerated and broad that it comes off as annoying rather than charming . 
an awkward hybrid of genres that just doesn't work . 
the latest vapid actor's exercise to appropriate the structure of arthur schnitzler's reigen . 
snipes is both a snore and utter tripe . 
ritchie's film is easier to swallow than wertmuller's polemical allegory , but it's self-defeatingly decorous . 
chalk it up as the worst kind of hubristic folly . 
it's the kind of under-inspired , overblown enterprise that gives hollywood sequels a bad name . 
rosenthal ( halloween ii ) seems to have forgotten everything he ever knew about generating suspense . 
even murphy's expert comic timing and famed charisma can't rescue this effort . 
rodriguez . . . was unable to reproduce the special spark between the characters that made the first film such a delight . 
a sleek advert for youthful anomie that never quite equals the sum of its pretensions . 
some body smacks of exhibitionism more than it does cathartic truth telling . 
this isn't a terrible film by any means , but it's also far from being a realized work . 
apparently , romantic comedy with a fresh point of view just doesn't figure in the present hollywood program . 
a lame comedy . 
depressingly thin and exhaustingly contrived . only masochistic moviegoers need apply . 
a movie that's held captive by mediocrity . not bad , but not all that good . bacon keeps things interesting , but don't go out of your way to pay full price . 
what's next ? rob schneider , dana carvey and sarah michelle gellar in the philadelphia story ? david spade as citizen kane ? 
can't seem to get anywhere near the story's center . 
the problem , amazingly enough , is the screenplay . 
it's a frankenstein-monster of a film that doesn't know what it wants to be . 
upper west sidey exercise in narcissism and self-congratulation disguised as a tribute . 
on its icy face , the new film is a subzero version of monsters , inc . , without the latter's imagination , visual charm or texture . 
i can't say this enough : this movie is about an adult male dressed in pink jammies . 
it's a mindless action flick with a twist -- far better suited to video-viewing than the multiplex . 
after a while , the only way for a reasonably intelligent person to get through the country bears is to ponder how a whole segment of pop-music history has been allowed to get wet , fuzzy and sticky . 
we get light showers of emotion a couple of times , but then -- strangely -- these wane to an inconsistent and ultimately unsatisfying drizzle . 
summer's far too fleeting to squander on offal like this . 
the film is grossly contradictory in conveying its social message , if indeed there is one . 
often lingers just as long on the irrelevant as on the engaging , which gradually turns what time is it there ? into how long is this movie ? 
too bad kramer couldn't make a guest appearance to liven things up . 
deuces wild is an encyclopedia of cliches that shoplifts shamelessly from farewell-to-innocence movies like the wanderers and a bronx tale without cribbing any of their intelligence . 
it's a barely tolerable slog over well-trod ground . 
epps has neither the charisma nor the natural affability that has made tucker a star . 
it's sweet . . . but just a little bit too precious at the start and a little too familiar at the end . 
a dull , dumb and derivative horror film . 
an awkwardly contrived exercise in magic realism . 
demme gets a lot of flavor and spice into his charade remake , but he can't disguise that he's spiffing up leftovers that aren't so substantial or fresh . 
this is a heartfelt story . . . it just isn't a very involving one . 
these self-styled athletes have banged their brains into the ground so frequently and furiously , their capacity to explain themselves has gone the same way as their natural instinct for self-preservation . 
the fact that the 'best part' of the movie comes from a 60-second homage to one of demme's good films doesn't bode well for the rest of it . 
richard pryor mined his personal horrors and came up with a treasure chest of material , but lawrence gives us mostly fool's gold . 
the band performances featured in drumline are red hot . . . [but] from a mere story point of view , the film's ice cold . 
built on the premise that middle-class arkansas consists of monster truck-loving good ol' boys and peroxide blond honeys whose worldly knowledge comes from tv reruns and supermarket tabloids . 
a laughable -- or rather , unlaughable -- excuse for a film . 
the sequel is everything the original was not : contrived , overblown and tie-in ready . 
like a grinning jack o' lantern , its apparent glee is derived from a lobotomy , having had all its vital essence scooped out and discarded . 
a sentimental hybrid that could benefit from the spice of specificity . 
familiar and predictable , and 4/5ths of it might as well have come from a xerox machine rather than ( writer-director ) franc . reyes' word processor . 
give shapiro , goldman , and bolado credit for good intentions , but there's nothing here that they couldn't have done in half an hour . 
it's so devoid of joy and energy it makes even jason x . . . look positively shakesperean by comparison . 
a little objectivity could have gone a long way . 
one of the worst films of 2002 . 
i believe silberling had the best intentions here , but he just doesn't have the restraint to fully realize them . 
plays like an unbalanced mixture of graphic combat footage and almost saccharine domestic interludes that are pure hollywood . 
mctiernan's remake may be lighter on its feet -- the sober-minded original was as graceful as a tap-dancing rhino -- but it is just as boring and as obvious . 
high crimes carries almost no organic intrigue as a government/ marine/legal mystery , and that's because the movie serves up all of that stuff , nearly subliminally , as the old-hat province of male intrigue . 
this movie is about the worst thing chan has done in the united states . 
the explosion essentially ruined -- or , rather , overpowered -- the fiction of the movie for me . 
this ludicrous film is predictable at every turn . 
an incredibly irritating comedy about thoroughly vacuous people . . . manages to embody the worst excesses of nouvelle vague without any of its sense of fun or energy . 
the film desperately sinks further and further into comedy futility . 
instead of a balanced film that explains the zeitgeist that is the x games , we get a cinematic postcard that's superficial and unrealized . 
the crassness of this reactionary thriller is matched only by the ridiculousness of its premise . 
i wish it would have just gone more over-the-top instead of trying to have it both ways . 
the superior plotline isn't quite enough to drag along the dead ( water ) weight of the other . 
the film doesn't really care about the thousands of americans who die hideously , it cares about how ryan meets his future wife and makes his start at the cia . 
adrift , bentley and hudson stare and sniffle , respectively , as ledger attempts , in vain , to prove that movie-star intensity can overcome bad hair design . 
after an hour and a half of wondering -- sometimes amusedly , sometimes impatiently -- just what this strenuously unconventional movie is supposed to be , you discover that the answer is as conventional as can be . 
'linklater fans , or pretentious types who want to appear avant-garde will suck up to this project . . . '
a woefully dull , redundant concept that bears more than a whiff of exploitation , despite iwai's vaunted empathy . 
screenwriter chris ver weil's directing debut is good-natured and never dull , but its virtues are small and easily overshadowed by its predictability . 
if you really want to understand what this story is really all about , you're far better served by the source material . 
it's mildly sentimental , unabashedly consumerist . . . studiously inoffensive and completely disposable . 
like its title character , esther kahn is unusual but unfortunately also irritating . 
the star who helped give a spark to " chasing amy " and " changing lanes " falls flat as thinking man cia agent jack ryan in this summer's new action film , " the sum of all fears . " 
a summary of the plot doesn't quite do justice to the awfulness of the movie , for that comes through all too painfully in the execution . 
every conceivable mistake a director could make in filming opera has been perpetrated here . 
snoots will no doubt rally to its cause , trotting out threadbare standbys like 'masterpiece' and 'triumph' and all that malarkey , but rarely does an established filmmaker so ardently waste viewers' time with a gobbler like this . 
[the film's] taste for " shock humor " will wear thin on all but those weaned on the comedy of tom green and the farrelly brothers . 
any enjoyment will be hinge from a personal threshold of watching sad but endearing characters do extremely unconventional things . 
if legendary shlockmeister ed wood had ever made a movie about a vampire , it probably would look a lot like this alarming production , adapted from anne rice's novel the vampire chronicles . 
hardly a nuanced portrait of a young woman's breakdown , the film nevertheless works up a few scares . 
interminably bleak , to say nothing of boring . 
things really get weird , though not particularly scary : the movie is all portent and no content . 
it's difficult to discern if this is a crazy work of disturbed genius or merely 90 minutes of post-adolescent electra rebellion . 
bogs down badly as we absorb jia's moody , bad-boy behavior which he portrays himself in a one-note performance . 
the camera whirls ! the camera twirls ! oh , look at that clever angle ! wow , a jump cut ! 
demme finally succeeds in diminishing his stature from oscar-winning master to lowly studio hack . 
the action scenes have all the suspense of a 20-car pileup , while the plot holes are big enough for a train car to drive through -- if kaos hadn't blown them all up . 
it almost feels as if the movie is more interested in entertaining itself than in amusing us . 
it puts washington , as honest working man john q . archibald , on a pedestal , then keeps lifting the pedestal higher . 
ultimately , the film amounts to being lectured to by tech-geeks , if you're up for that sort of thing . 
far more enjoyable than its predecessor . 
[gayton's script] telegraphs every discovery and layers on the gloss of convenience . 
full frontal , which opens today nationwide , could almost be classified as a movie-industry satire , but it lacks the generous inclusiveness that is the genre's definitive , if disingenuous , feature . 
a ragbag of cliches . 
this rough trade punch-and-judy act didn't play well then and it plays worse now . 
a reality-snubbing hodgepodge . 
the three leads produce adequate performances , but what's missing from this material is any depth of feeling . 
it's possible that something hip and transgressive was being attempted here that stubbornly refused to gel , but the result is more puzzling than unsettling . 
this painfully unfunny farce traffics in tired stereotypes and encumbers itself with complications . . . that have no bearing on the story . 
short and sweet , but also more than anything else slight… tadpole pulls back from the consequences of its own actions and revelations . 
has its moments , but it's pretty far from a treasure . 
what more can be expected from a college comedy that's target audience hasn't graduated from junior high school ? 
collateral damage offers formula payback and the big payoff , but the explosions tend to simply hit their marks , pyro-correctly . 
the plan to make enough into ‘an inspiring tale of survival wrapped in the heart-pounding suspense of a stylish psychological thriller' has flopped as surely as a soufflé gone wrong . 
instead of letting the laughs come as they may , lawrence unleashes his trademark misogyny -- er , comedy -- like a human volcano or an overflowing septic tank , take your pick . 
you know that ten bucks you'd spend on a ticket ? just send it to cranky . we don't get paid enough to sit through crap like this . 
an even more predictable , cliche-ridden endeavor than its predecessor . 
the whole thing plays like a tired tyco ad . 
the film doesn't show enough of the creative process or even of what was created for the non-fan to figure out what makes wilco a big deal . 
the soupy end result has the odd distinction of being playful without being fun , too . 
no , i don't know why steven seagal is considered a star , nor why he keeps being cast in action films when none of them are ever any good or make any money . 
even by the intentionally low standards of frat-boy humor , sorority boys is a bowser . 
one well-timed explosion in a movie can be a knockout , but a hundred of them can be numbing . proof of this is ballistic : ecks vs . sever . 
halfway through , however , having sucked dry the undead action flick formula , blade ii mutates into a gross-out monster movie with effects that are more silly than scary . 
weighted down with slow , uninvolving storytelling and flat acting . 
we can't accuse kung pow for misfiring , since it is exactly what it wants to be : an atrociously , mind-numbingly , indescribably bad movie . unfortunately , we'd prefer a simple misfire . 
there isn't one moment in the film that surprises or delights . 
'wouldn't it be nice if all guys got a taste of what it's like on the other side of the bra ? '
the movie is essentially a series of fleetingly interesting actors' moments . 
most of the information has already appeared in one forum or another and , no matter how broomfield dresses it up , it tends to speculation , conspiracy theories or , at best , circumstantial evidence . 
this movie , a certain scene in particular , brought me uncomfortably close to losing my lunch . 
the secrets of time travel will have been discovered , indulged in and rejected as boring before i see this piece of crap again . 
smug , artificial , ill-constructed and fatally overlong . . . it never finds a consistent tone and lacks bite , degenerating into a pious , preachy soap opera . 
chelsea walls is a case of too many chefs fussing over too weak a recipe . 
every joke is repeated at least four times . every joke is repeated at least four times . every joke is repeated at least--annoying , isn't it ? 
comes across as a fairly weak retooling . 
the lousy lead performances . . . keep the movie from ever reaching the comic heights it obviously desired . 
its and pieces of the hot chick are so hilarious , and schneider's performance is so fine , it's a real shame that so much of the movie -- again , as in the animal -- is a slapdash mess . 
[creates] the worst kind of mythologizing , the kind that sacrifices real heroism and abject suffering for melodrama . 
the movie resolutely avoids all the comic possibilities of its situation , and becomes one more dumb high school comedy about sex gags and prom dates . 
earnest and heartfelt but undernourished and plodding . 
a sugar-coated rocky whose valuable messages are forgotten 10 minutes after the last trombone honks . 
romanek keeps adding flourishes -- artsy fantasy sequences -- that simply feel wrong . they cheapen the overall effect . 
has all the complexity and realistic human behavior of an episode of general hospital . 
an acceptable way to pass a little over an hour with moviegoers ages 8-10 , but it's unlikely to inspire anything more than a visit to mcdonald's , let alone some savvy street activism . 
[allen's] been making piffle for a long while , and hollywood ending may be his way of saying that piffle is all that the airhead movie business deserves from him right now . 
an exercise in cynicism every bit as ugly as the shabby digital photography and muddy sound . 
mildly amusing . 
not good enough to pass for a litmus test of the generation gap and not bad enough to repulse any generation of its fans . 
the movie is silly beyond comprehension , and even if it weren't silly , it would still be beyond comprehension . 
watchable up until the point where the situations and the dialogue spin hopelessly out of control -- that is to say , when carol kane appears on the screen . 
the scriptwriters are no less a menace to society than the film's characters . 
fairly run-of-the-mill . 
merchant hasn't directed this movie so much as produced it -- like sausage . 
the film has a nearly terminal case of the cutes , and it's neither as funny nor as charming as it thinks it is . 
more a gunfest than a rock concert . 
it's a frightful vanity film that , no doubt , pays off what debt miramax felt they owed to benigni . 
a muddy psychological thriller rife with miscalculations . it makes me say the obvious : abandon all hope of a good movie ye who enter here . 
mildly entertaining . 
it's not original enough . 
a listless sci-fi comedy in which eddie murphy deploys two guises and elaborate futuristic sets to no particularly memorable effect . 
terrible . 
little more than a super-sized infomercial for the cable-sports channel and its summer x games . 
degenerates into hogwash . 
a generic bloodbath that often becomes laughably unbearable when it isn't merely offensive . 
julie davis is the kathie lee gifford of film directors , sadly proving once again ego doesn't always go hand in hand with talent . 
an unholy mess , driven by the pathetic idea that if you shoot something on crummy-looking videotape , it must be labelled 'hip' , 'innovative' and 'realistic' . 
the story's pathetic and the gags are puerile . 
 . curiously , super troopers suffers because it doesn't have enough vices to merit its 103-minute length . 
so bland and utterly forgettable that it might as well have been titled generic jennifer lopez romantic comedy . 
i was sent a copyof this film to review on dvd . for free . i still want my money back . 
it plods along methodically , somehow under the assumption that its " dead wife communicating from beyond the grave " framework is even remotely new or interesting . 
it's hard to believe that a relationship like holly and marina's could survive the hothouse emotions of teendom , and its longevity gets more inexplicable as the characterizations turn more crassly reductive . 
all too familiar . . . basically the sort of cautionary tale that was old when 'angels with dirty faces' appeared in 1938 . 
…passable enough for a shoot-out in the o . k . court house of life type of flick . strictly middle of the road . 
although purportedly a study in modern alienation , it's really little more than a particularly slanted , gay s/m fantasy , enervating and deadeningly drawn-out . 
after the first 10 minutes , which is worth seeing , the movie sinks into an abyss of clichés , depression and bad alternative music . 
no one can doubt the filmmakers' motives , but the guys still feels counterproductive . 
a very slow , uneventful ride around a pretty tattered old carousel . 
with little visible talent and no energy , colin hanks is in bad need of major acting lessons and maybe a little coffee . 
 " feardotcom " has the makings of an interesting meditation on the ethereal nature of the internet and the otherworldly energies it could channel , but it simply becomes a routine shocker . 
a meatballs for the bare-midriff generation . 
well-meaning to a fault , antwone fisher manages the dubious feat of turning one man's triumph of will into everyman's romance comedy . 
seemingly disgusted with the lazy material and the finished product's unshapely look , director fisher stevens inexplicably dips key moments from the film in waking life water colors . 
formula 51 promises a new kind of high but delivers the same old bad trip . 
everything that was right about blade is wrong in its sequel . 
a few energetic stunt sequences briefly enliven the film , but the wheezing terrorist subplot hasn't the stamina for the 100-minute running time , and the protagonists' bohemian boorishness mars the spirit of good clean fun . 
the film was produced by jerry bruckheimer and directed by joel schumacher , and reflects the worst of their shallow styles : wildly overproduced , inadequately motivated every step of the way and demographically targeted to please every one ( and no one ) . 
disney again ransacks its archives for a quick-buck sequel . 
 coarse , cliched and clunky , this trifling romantic comedy in which opposites attract for no better reason than that the screenplay demands it squanders the charms of stars hugh grant and sandra bullock . 
anyone who suffers through this film deserves , at the very least , a big box of consolation candy . 
how much you are moved by the emotional tumult of [françois and michèle's] relationship depends a lot on how interesting and likable you find them . 
they presume their audience won't sit still for a sociology lesson , however entertainingly presented , so they trot out the conventional science-fiction elements of bug-eyed monsters and futuristic women in skimpy clothes . 
collapses after 30 minutes into a slap-happy series of adolescent violence . 
the following things are not at all entertaining : the bad sound , the lack of climax and , worst of all , watching seinfeld ( who is also one of the film's producers ) do everything he can to look like a good guy . 
attal's hang-ups surrounding infidelity are so old-fashioned and , dare i say , outdated , it's a wonder that he couldn't have brought something fresher to the proceedings simply by accident . 
obvious , obnoxious and didactic burlesque . 
the most surprising thing about this film is that they are actually releasing it into theaters . 
michele is a such a brainless flibbertigibbet that it's hard to take her spiritual quest at all seriously . 
ultimately , clarity matters , both in breaking codes and making movies . enigma lacks it . 
potty-mouthed enough for pg-13 , yet not as hilariously raunchy as south park , this strangely schizo cartoon seems suited neither to kids or adults . 
has its moments , but ultimately , its curmudgeon doesn't quite make the cut of being placed on any list of favorites . 
a distinctly minor effort that will be seen to better advantage on cable , especially considering its barely feature-length running time of one hour . 
most of the movie is so deadly dull that watching the proverbial paint dry would be a welcome improvement . 
in the end , tuck everlasting falls victim to that everlasting conundrum experienced by every human who ever lived : too much to do , too little time to do it in . 
rather less than the sum of its underventilated père-fils confrontations . 
mckay shows crushingly little curiosity about , or is ill-equipped to examine , the interior lives of the characters in his film , much less incorporate them into his narrative . 
plays like a series of vignettes -- clips of a film that are still looking for a common through-line . 
new yorkers always seem to find the oddest places to dwell . . . 
amid the shock and curiosity factors , the film is just a corny examination of a young actress trying to find her way . 
yes , spirited away is a triumph of imagination , but it's also a failure of storytelling . 
a characteristically engorged and sloppy coming-of-age movie . 
a somewhat disappointing and meandering saga . 
whenever you think you've seen the end of the movie , we cut to a new scene , which also appears to be the end . but , no , we get another scene , and then another . you begin to long for the end credits as the desert does for rain . 
an empty , ugly exercise in druggy trance-noir and trumped-up street credibility . 
the screenplay , co-written by director imogen kimmel , lacks the wit necessary to fully exploit the comic elements of the premise , making the proceedings more bizarre than actually amusing . 
the milieu is wholly unconvincing . . . and the histrionics reach a truly annoying pitch . 
unfunny comedy with a lot of static set ups , not much camera movement , and most of the scenes take place indoors in formal settings with motionless characters . 
each story is built on a potentially interesting idea , but the first two are ruined by amateurish writing and acting , while the third feels limited by its short running time . 
except for paymer as the boss who ultimately expresses empathy for bartleby's pain , the performances are so stylized as to be drained of human emotion . 
will no doubt delight plympton's legion of fans ; others may find 80 minutes of these shenanigans exhausting . 
the laughs are as rare as snake foo yung . 
for a film that celebrates radical , nonconformist values , what to do in case of fire ? lazily and glumly settles into a most traditional , reserved kind of filmmaking . 
knockaround guys plays like a student film by two guys who desperately want to be quentin tarantino when they grow up . but they lack their idol's energy and passion for detail . 
mattei so completely loses himself to the film's circular structure to ever offer any insightful discourse on , well , love in the time of money . 
it briefly flirts with player masochism , but the point of real interest -– audience sadism -- is evaded completely . 
holland lets things peter out midway , but it's notably better acted -- and far less crass - than some other recent efforts in the burgeoning genre of films about black urban professionals . 
for every articulate player , such as skateboarder tony hawk or bmx rider mat hoffman , are about a half dozen young turks angling to see how many times they can work the words " radical " or " suck " into a sentence . 
there's not a fresh idea at the core of this tale . 
an impenetrable and insufferable ball of pseudo-philosophic twaddle . 
it's unfortunate that wallace , who wrote gibson's braveheart as well as the recent pearl harbor , has such an irrepressible passion for sappy situations and dialogue . 
i liked the movie , but i know i would have liked it more if it had just gone that one step further . i'm left slightly disappointed that it didn't . 
dreary tale of middle-class angst
for a movie about the power of poetry and passion , there is precious little of either . 
[jackson and bledel] seem to have been picked not for their acting chops , but for their looks and appeal to the pre-teen crowd . 
lillard and cardellini earn their scooby snacks , but not anyone else . 
like schindler's list , the grey zone attempts to be grandiloquent , but ends up merely pretentious -- in a grisly sort of way . 
an unremittingly ugly movie to look at , listen to , and think about , it is quite possibly the sturdiest example yet of why the dv revolution has cheapened the artistry of making a film . 
[screenwriter] pimental took the farrelly brothers comedy and feminized it , but it is a rather poor imitation . 
it's kind of sad that so many people put so much time and energy into this turkey . 
friday after next is a lot more bluster than bite . 
its juxtaposition of overwrought existentialism and stomach-churning gore will have you forever on the verge of either cracking up or throwing up . 
a decidedly mixed bag . 
meandering and confusing . 
there are cheesy backdrops , ridiculous action sequences , and many tired jokes about men in heels . 
ice cube isn't quite out of ripe screwball ideas , but friday after next spreads them pretty thin . 
not everything in the film works , including its somewhat convenient ending . 
the characters , cast in impossibly contrived situations , are totally estranged from reality . 
everything else about high crimes is , like the military system of justice it portrays , tiresomely regimented . 
just dreadful . i don't blame eddie murphy but shouldn't owen wilson know a movie must have a story and a script ? 
sweet home alabama certainly won't be remembered as one of [witherspoon's] better films . 
hard as this may be to believe , here on earth , a surprisingly similar teen drama , was a better film . 
this is just lazy writing . even kids deserve better . 
the pretensions -- and disposable story -- sink the movie . and diesel isn't the actor to save it . 
bravo reveals the true intent of her film by carefully selecting interview subjects who will construct a portrait of castro so predominantly charitable it can only be seen as propaganda . 
 . . . a preachy parable stylized with a touch of john woo bullet ballet . 
frank capra played this story straight . but the 2002 film doesn't really believe in it , and breaks the mood with absurdly inappropriate 'comedy' scenes . 
how about starting with a more original story instead of just slapping extreme humor and gross-out gags on top of the same old crap ? 
the problem is that for the most part , the film is deadly dull . 
handled correctly , wilde's play is a masterpiece of elegant wit and artifice . here , alas , it collapses like an overcooked soufflé . 
 " sorority boys " was funnier , and that movie was pretty bad . 
a bizarre piece of work , with premise and dialogue at the level of kids' television and plot threads as morose as teen pregnancy , rape and suspected murder
paul bettany is good at being the ultra-violent gangster wannabe , but the movie is certainly not number 1 . 
it's a gag that's worn a bit thin over the years , though don't ask still finds a few chuckles . 
an uplifting drama . . . what antwone fisher isn't , however , is original . 
often likable , but just as often it's meandering , low on energy , and too eager to be quirky at moments when a little old-fashioned storytelling would come in handy . 
certain to be distasteful to children and adults alike , eight crazy nights is a total misfire . 
elaborate special effects take centre screen , so that the human story is pushed to one side . 
showtime isn't particularly assaultive , but it can still make you feel that you never want to see another car chase , explosion or gunfight again . 
all the characters are clinically depressed and have abandoned their slim hopes and dreams . 
this tuxedo . . . should have been sent back to the tailor for some major alterations . 
i have no problem with " difficult " movies , or movies that ask the audience to meet them halfway and connect the dots instead of having things all spelled out . but first , you have to give the audience a reason to <b>want</b> to put for that effort , and " i
been there , done that . . . a thousand times already , and better . 
what's most offensive isn't the waste of a good cast , but the film's denial of sincere grief and mourning in favor of bogus spiritualism . 
sunk by way too much indulgence of scene-chewing , teeth-gnashing actorliness . 
fans of plympton's shorts may marginally enjoy the film , but it is doubtful this listless feature will win him any new viewers . 
barrels along at the start before becoming mired in sentimentality . 
none of this sounds promising and , indeed , the first half of sorority boys is as appalling as any 'comedy' to ever spill from a projector's lens . 
the kind of movie that leaves vague impressions and a nasty aftertaste but little clear memory of its operational mechanics . 
'punch-drunk love is so convinced of its own brilliance that , if it were a person , you'd want to smash its face in . '
at once overly old-fashioned in its sudsy plotting and heavy-handed in its effort to modernize it with encomia to diversity and tolerance . 
the trashy teen-sleaze equivalent of showgirls . 
while the production details are lavish , film has little insight into the historical period and its artists , particularly in how sand developed a notorious reputation . 
a crass and insulting homage to great films like some like it hot and the john wayne classics . 
what's the most positive thing that can be said about the new rob schneider vehicle ? well , it's not as pathetic as the animal . 
with all the sympathy , empathy and pity fogging up the screen . . . his secret life enters the land of unintentional melodrama and tiresome love triangles . 
the problematic characters and overly convenient plot twists foul up shum's good intentions . 
what 'blade runner' would've looked like as a low-budget series on a uhf channel . 
doesn't add up to much . 
has all the values of a straight-to-video movie , but because it has a bigger-name cast , it gets a full theatrical release . 
with its lackadaisical plotting and mindless action , all about the benjamins evokes the bottom tier of blaxploitation flicks from the 1970s . 
it never quite makes it to the boiling point , but manages to sustain a good simmer for most of its running time . 
loud , silly , stupid and pointless . 
mandel holland's direction is uninspired , and his scripting unsurprising , but the performances by phifer and black are ultimately winning . you'll find yourself wishing that you and they were in another movie . 
a yawn-provoking little farm melodrama . 
did no one on the set have a sense of humor , or did they not have the nerve to speak up ? 
crummy
seriously , rent the disney version . 
as david letterman and the onion have proven , the worst of tragedies can be fertile sources of humor , but lawrence has only a fleeting grasp of how to develop them . 
like its parade of predecessors , this halloween is a gory slash-fest . it can't escape its past , and it doesn't want to . 
 " abandon " will leave you wanting to abandon the theater . 
problem is , we have no idea what in creation is going on . 
a live-action cartoon , a fast-moving and cheerfully simplistic 88 minutes of exaggerated action put together with the preteen boy in mind . 
a loquacious and dreary piece of business . 
what the audience feels is exhaustion , from watching a movie that is dark ( dark green , to be exact ) , sour , bloody and mean . 
director hoffman , his writer and kline's agent should serve detention
dodgy mixture of cutesy romance , dark satire and murder mystery . 
meticulously mounted , exasperatingly well-behaved film , which ticks off kahlo's lifetime milestones with the dutiful precision of a tax accountant . 
time of favor could have given audiences the time of day by concentrating on the elements of a revealing alienation among a culture of people who sadly are at hostile odds with one another through recklessness and retaliation . 
i'm not sure which will take longer to heal : the welt on johnny knoxville's stomach from a riot-control projectile or my own tortured psyche . 
while serving sara does have a long way to go before it reaches the level of crudity in the latest austin powers extravaganza , there's nothing here to match that movie's intermittent moments of inspiration . 
i'm not sure which is worse : the poor acting by the ensemble cast , the flat dialogue by vincent r . nebrida or the gutless direction by laurice guillen . 
the only reason you should see this movie is if you have a case of masochism and an hour and a half to blow . 
whatever about warning kids about the dangers of ouija boards , someone should dispense the same advice to film directors . 
as with so many merchandised-to-the-max movies of this type , more time appears to have gone into recruiting the right bands for the playlist and the costuming of the stars than into the script , which has a handful of smart jokes and not much else . 
the irwins' scenes are fascinating ; the movie as a whole is cheap junk and an insult to their death-defying efforts . 
if routine action and jokes like this are your cup of tea , then pay your $8 and get ready for the big shear . this is one baaaaaaaaad movie . 
a man leaving the screening said the film was better than saving private ryan . he may have meant the internet short saving ryan's privates . but windtalkers doesn't beat that one , either . 
may puzzle his most ardent fans . 
starts as a tart little lemon drop of a movie and ends up as a bitter pill . 
we never feel anything for these characters , and as a result the film is basically just a curiosity . 
those unfamiliar with mormon traditions may find the singles ward occasionally bewildering . 
ritchie may not have a novel thought in his head , but he knows how to pose madonna . 
the story , touching though it is , does not quite have enough emotional resonance or variety of incident to sustain a feature , and even at 85 minutes it feels a bit long . 
feels like the work of an artist who is simply tired -- of fighting the same fights , of putting the weight of the world on his shoulders , of playing with narrative form . 
while you have to admit it's semi-amusing to watch robert deniro belt out " when you're a jet , you're a jet all the way , " it's equally distasteful to watch him sing the lyrics to " tonight . " 
the whole mess boils down to a transparently hypocritical work that feels as though it's trying to set the women's liberation movement back 20 years .