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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 .