This lame teenage James Bond will leave audiences neither shaken nor stirred.

One big hunk of cinematic moussaka with lots of appetizing shots of food.

As misconceived as it is corny and predictable.

Harris can be a brilliant actor, and there are flashes of that here. But he's done in by a script that lacks any subtlety.

For much of Flannel Pajamas I wondered if the couple's big problem was that Stuart was secretly gay. Nothing so interesting - he's just a narcissistic control freak and she's off-puttingly needy.

A low-key Field is the best thing about Two Weeks, which is set in a Wilmington, N.C., where everyone mysteriously sounds like he just got off a Los Angeles freeway.

The apolitical and well-meaning Home of the Brave is predictable and maudlin.

In the hands of the formerly promising director Joe Carnahan, this stylish, nihilistic, hugely derivative mash-up of Tarantino and Guy Ritchie (before wife Madonna ruined his career) is fun for roughly half an hour.

The cast includes Oscar winner Louise Fletcher (Nurse Ratched herself) and Henry Thomas of "E.T.," and the special effects look like they were executed on somebody's laptop.

When you awake, it may all seem like a bad dream - but why is your wallet missing $11? Scary.

Next, which makes "National Treasure" look like a model of narrative logic, is almost beyond criticism.

A bizarre quasi-documentary that more or less tries to rationalize bestiality as a harmless quirk.

Peter Krause, the fine actor from "Six Feet Under," gives a one-note performance that seriously undermines Civic Duty, a thriller mining minimal dramatic payoff from the potentially potent subject of post-9/11 paranoia.

The kind of movie that cries out for the fast-forward button.

Picks up steam when it finally arrives in Cannes just in time to wreak yet more havoc at the big film festival, but getting there is pretty tedious. A little of the wildly mugging Atkinson goes a long way.

A gorgeous snooze, somewhere between imitation Terrence Malick and a feature version of star Brad Pitt's notorious Vanity Fair layout with Angelina Jolie and their faux kids.

The opening montage raises expectations of a serious, politically incisive depiction of the region. What we actually get is an offensively pandering, Bruckheimer-esque riff on the real-life Khobar Towers bombing of 1996, a Saudi Hezbollah attack that killed 19 Americans.

Lust, Caution could have done with a lot more lust and a lot less caution.

This is the sort of movie that requires you not only to suspend disbelief, but to check your sanity at the ticket counter.

The plot contortions that very slowly unfold under Michael Radford's arthritic direction in Flawless are not much more entertaining.

It's pretty hard to make a dull movie about Henry VIII and his complicated love life, but The Other Boleyn Girl, a failed Oscar contender, manages to do just that, with yawns to spare.

Under Mark Palansky's uninspired direction, magic eludes Penelope in scene after scene.

Relentlessly depressing.

Well, nobody said The Grand was another "Best in Show."

Laughs are few and far between in the innuendo-laden script attributed to Dana Fox, who's also responsible for the reprehensible "The Wedding Date."

Feels like it was written and directed by an audience focus group in Omaha?

This movie fails so spectacularly - and on so many levels - that it's like watching a train plummet off a bridge.

Murphy has fallen back into the comfortable rut of sloppy family comedies that are low on laughs and high on toilet jokes.