Even if you love all things Yiddish, there is precious little to embrace here.

Maybe someday an enterprising filmmaker will make a film about this forgotten chapter in Muslim-Jewish relations. It would be a lot more compelling and memorable than the nonsense in Monsieur Ibrahim.

By the time the film is over it is not so much a "who-done-it?" but a "why-did-we-sit-through-this?"

In throwing hatchets at Murdoch and his silly Fox network while pretending the rest of the media world is fine and objective, the film comes across as a shrill, one-note slam against a very easy target.

Achieves the impossible in taking a genuine socio-political tragedy and turning it into an anvil drama which will fray the patience of the most sympathetic audiences.

While I admire Bishop Jakes and I frequently watch his sermons on TV, I have to question his tactic of charging people admission to generate hosannas on his behalf.

What may have seemed energetic and innovative four decades ago is fairly enervated today, and only the most rabid Godard fanatics will find reason to seek out its new theatrical re-release.

The film's screenplay is thick with major lapses in logic, resulting in a story that ultimately makes little sense.

The film presents the Rwandans in the worst possible way: venal, corrupt, vicious, stupid, barbaric and completely incapable of governing themselves. Honestly, I've seen more intelligent and sympathetic depictions of Africans in Tarzan movies.

Fairly mundane and frequently boring.

Beautifully produced but emotionally vacant drama.

It is a shame the film doesn't cast a wider net into deeper political waters – the outrage is barely scratched in this production.

Wilson overstuffs the film with endless artsy shots of nature.

Emily Blunt’s Victoria and Rupert Friend’s Albert come across like museum mannequins – utterly devoid of any genuine passion.

With a clumsy hip-hop score permeating every free inch of the soundtrack and ugly 16mm cinematography that would never be allowed out of Film School 101, the audio-visual experience is a wreck. The quality of Quality of Life is non-existent.

The Quiet is best for cheap laughs by jaded moviegoers with absolutely nothing better to do with their time.

The film is professionally made but a thorough bore at every imaginable level.

Zhang Yimou is seriously off his game with the utterly ridiculous Curse of the Golden Flower, a new epic that feels like "Hero" meets "The Lion in Winter" meets "Peyton Place." The film is worthless as a serious work of art, but it may offer the jaded viewer a surplus source of MST3K-inspired wisecracks.

Sadly, the whole affair is little more than ennui with a pedigree.

The one lesson learned from watching this film is that Canadians can make movies just as badly as anyone else.

Inert, inept epic.

A noisy, chaotic affair.

Writer/director Gary Burns offers a suffocating experience which is too boring to be accepted as a satire, too lame to be accepted as a farce, and too infantile to be accepted as a drama.

About as funny as a funeral.

Small, amateurish Israeli feature.

Perhaps it is a shame that no one thought of digitally restoring and theatrically releasing the sex videos that Crane made with the many women he pleasured...that would have been far more entertaining than anything found in Auto Focus.

Nothing more than a big old chunk of horse poop.

Easily the most surprising comedy of his career. The surprise: it's not funny.