With Scott Pilgrim, Wright leaps over the line from chattery cleverness to all-out self-consciousness.

Rubber could have been a modest horror novelty, a wicked, malevolent version of "The Red Balloon."

Paranormal Activity 2 sinks much lower than it needs to in order to get a rush out of us - and in the end, the rush isn't even that great. The movie puts us through the paces with minimal payoff.

A moneygrubbing extravaganza, ugly to look at and interminable to sit through. No movie about the evils of excessive taxation should be this taxing.

If you've ever wondered how a bunch of blockheaded white boys would handle a bullet wound, you're in for a treat.

As you might have guessed from its title, Drinkers is as full of cheap sentimentality and predictable behavior as a Hell's Kitchen bar would have been in the 1970s.

It isn't a movie - it's more like the world's most expensive, elaborate viral video, making a detour to the big screen before being broken up into more easily consumable segments to be consumed on YouTube.

A party disaster movie targeted at kids who find the "Hangover" franchise too sophisticated.

The problem is, whether real, not real, or some Spector-headed stepchild of the two, meltdowns are still not inherently interesting.

Big-name star Liam Neeson looks on, trying to add some class to the joint, though even he seems to know it's a losing battle.

Taken 2 grabs everything that was surprisingly enjoyable about the original film and batters it into the ground.

The whole exercise has the trying-too-hard vibe of a bad toupee.

Devil packs a lot of business into 80 brisk minutes but is shockingly short on fun or fright.

Take Me Home Tonight isn't nearly as much fun as the '80s actually were. Even worse, it's less fun than most '80s comedies were - and that's bad.

There's nothing in it to inspire excitement or even a mild glimmer of delight; it's almost offensive in its dullness.

The plot might be summed up this way: America's having a war, and everybody's invited!

The Virginity Hit feels forced, hollow and ultimately scattershot. Never has watching an on-screen teen trying to lose "it" seemed so empty.

Murky and perpetually bluish in tinge, Underworld: Awakening does and gets little with the 3-D in which it's being offered, and ends by shamelessly setting up a further and fatally unnecessary installment.

Sorry to disappoint the fanboys, but this is the first film in the Resident Evil series in which Milla Jovovich neither begins nor ends the movie stark naked.

It really is just sensory bombardment, and in two dimensions you have even less of a grasp of what's happening and of what you're looking at than the poor bastards on-screen.

It's not the addition of airships and male dangly earrings that make Paul W.S. Anderson's take on Alexandre Dumas' classic, much-adapted adventure such a drag, it's everything else - the incoherence, the anvil-heavy dialogue, the lack of anything beyond the broadest of characterizations.

Punch manages to cram more slow motion into its first few minutes than a season of NFL highlights, all of "Inception" and every one of those NBC promos where the casts of whatever failing police procedural walk menacingly towards the camera.

Crazy Eyes is the third directorial effort from Adam Sherman, and is, like his 2010 "Happiness Runs," based on his own personal experiences, suggesting he either has a staggering sense of self-laceration or a just as noteworthy lack of awareness about audience empathy.

The talking animals, though less tough to look at than those in "Marmaduke," are murder on the ears: Maya Rudolph as a neurotic giraffe and Sandler voicing a monkey could take the paint off of a Buick.

This is a lumpy, dumb, suspenseless thing that sometimes scarcely feels finished.

Aside from a few arresting visuals, Red Riding Hood is just a slog through the woods.

Infinitely worse than you dared to hope it wouldn't be, You Again dumbfounded and then defeated me.

Peep World barely seems like a movie. Withered and shrunken, it feels even too small for TV.