The film's putrid sexism is subverted in a series of sharp and funny scenes that at least raise Sorority Boys to the level of "American Pie."

A few early laughs scattered around a plot as thin as it is repetitious. There's talent in this picture, both before and behind the camera, but virtually none of it gets on the screen.

Watching Attack of the Clones is like getting rapped on the head with a rubber mallet -- no lasting damage (I pray and hope), but bad enough to bring on an acute bout of dizziness and disorientation. Definitely do not operate heavy machinery after viewing -- this behemoth is brutal.

Since the movie has so little conviction, or personality of its own, it's a walk you can easily forget.

Spun is so hip it hurts.

It's all very pat and, ultimately, annoying.

Lots of buildings and cars explode, but there isn't a spark between any of the characters.

There's not a scrap of imagination in the script.

Serving Sara, which often feels more like serving time, is one of those tortured Hollywood romantic comedies that starts with a passable premise and turns into an inventory of flat gags and weak lines set against a travelogue backdrop.

Just the umpteenth replay of the girl-meets-boy/boy-loses-girl/boy-gets-girl story.

Mostly, the plot is busy and incomprehensible and the action sequences directed with all the art of a detonation.

Pretty much what you'd expect -- just another haunted house that happens to float.

General Boredom meets Major Tedium on the Civil War fields of Virginia.

You leave Stolen Summer with the feeling that you have watched acrobats stumble on a tightrope with no net below. Not a great show, but at least nobody got badly hurt.

Dragonfly has more plot than a figure-skating competition, and just about as much credibility.

Smith and Lawrence enjoyed some amusing chemistry in the '95 original, but their molecules sure aren't jibing here. It's a full hour into this behemoth before there's anything resembling a belly laugh.

For about 20 minutes, Phantoms, based on Dean Koontz's bestseller, keeps you guessing. After that, it barely keeps you awake.

The script is definitely mediocrity mixed with complication.

There's no doubt the cast is driven and talented; some day, it might be interesting to watch a film about what such kids are really like.

The most disturbing aspect of Cold Creek Manor -- a predictable, disjointed "Cape Fear" knockoff -- is that a script this disjointed and unoriginal could actually get the Hollywood green light.

In the right hands, Good Boy! might have been a ripe bit of mischief. But except for an endless drum roll of fart jokes, what we get is stuffy liberal humanism that would bore the Oshkoshes off Al Gore's littlest nieces and nephews.

A determined romantic comedy with a theme, and damned if it won't see it through.

A semi-intriguing abomination, the movie The Cat in the Hat takes a piece of classic childhood Americana and turns it into something garish, dumb, ugly and senseless.

The problem here isn't how the figures look; rather, it's what they do and say -- the story is lame and the dialogue no better.

Oh, it's perfect all right. In fact, The Perfect Score is a flawless example of the classic January movie release -- the kind of studio picture that even the studio loathes, and so consigns to the dumping ground of the year's frosty first month.

There ain't much to You Got Served, but at least this teensploitation flick is bookended by two frenzied sequences that fully exploit the visual potential of street dancing.

I confess to a deep uncertainty about whether this can be rightly called a movie. A bunch of scenes, maybe... I confess to a cynical belief that Lola isn't actually a role but just a succession of costume changes.

Despite being set in 1958 Cuba, Havana Nights sticks to the formula. This would be perfectly acceptable if the dancing was "dirtier" and if there was a spark between the young couple.