Kimber Myers

The film’s heart appears to be in the right place, but its missteps and melodrama make this a fromage unworthy of savoring.

This ambitiously titled documentary never really makes the reasons for its existence clear.

Travis Hodgkins’ script strives to inspire, but it’s trite even for a drama about the magic of Christmas. Unfortunately, A New Christmas receives little help from either the amateur acting or first-time director Daniel Tenenbaum’s hand.

This is a film that’s better off unseen despite its lovely visuals.

Wallflower is a grueling viewing experience at times, and it never truly justifies its existence and the audience going through that pain.

Jexi is such a dumb, lazy film that it might have even the most ardent cinephile reaching for their device, ready to defend their defection to the dark side when faced with this clunker of a comedy.

Director Elise Duran brings a background in reality TV to this sub-par rom-com, but there’s little of the real world here.

This teen musical comedy is set at a girls performing arts camp, but it never convinces the audience of anyone’s talent.

Despite the presence of theoretically interesting elements such as dirty cops, amnesia and money-laundering, Killerman is two hours of pure boredom.

Repetitive lyrics, nonsensical camera angles and incomprehensible edits will leave viewers feeling anything but positive.

It approaches everything from suicide to Socrates with a facile touch, dealing with serious issues with an almost startling lack of depth and intelligence.

Though Skin in the Game is earnest in its attempts to shed light on human trafficking, the good intentions are buried under a thick layer of grime from its trashy script.

There’s something special here, but it’s surrounded by drudgery.

Everyone is terrible in Extracurricular Activities, a dark comedy without any laughs and a mystery that doesn’t need to be solved.

The Hustle is profoundly stupid and it treats its audience as though they’re even less intelligent than it is.

Rattlesnakes imagines itself as a neo-noir, but that genre is more evident in its themes of revenge and ambiguous characters rather than in its nondescript style. This is a bland, unpleasant watch, all set to an equally grinding score.

Sex Trip tries to tell its audience that what’s inside is what matters, but this comedy is rotten at its core and sure to offend most people unlucky enough to watch it.

As bland as its title, Something is a horror film with few scares and a mystery without answers.

Garrison’s McNeely damns the overlong film; he’s neither a good man nor a good character, someone that we can’t care about or care to watch.

This feels like two movies for the price of one, but the audience isn’t getting a deal.

Beyond its theme of the power of God’s love, Run the Race centers on the importance of forgiveness. Viewers who can overlook its flaws will find value in its message, but those outside its target demo will be unable to see beyond its cinematic sins.

The Lears is a witlessly profane attempt at dark comedy that is beneath the talents of everyone on screen.

Berlin gives a good enough picture of its host city, delving into its complicated history and giving glimpses of its beauty. But few of the segments connect us to its inhabitants and visitors in any meaningful way.

John David Ware’s directorial debut is sloppy in its editing and camera angles, though the script from Bonné Bartron gave him little to work with. Unbridled stumbles further with clumsy product placement, making the film seem less sincere in its efforts despite its good intentions.

There’s clear affection for the ocean and its inhabitants in “Bernie the Dolphin,” but the movie’s script from Terri Emerson and Marty Poole is on the level of educational placards at a second-rate aquarium. It’s informative, but there’s little entertainment in director Kirk Harris’ film.

Its incoherent script is packed with more “Star Wars” references than Kevin Smith’s entire oeuvre, but none of the laughs.

There’s more sex than dialogue here; it’s a small win because the clunky dialogue and its flat delivery from amateur actors is nigh unwatchable, not that the sex scenes are much better.

Despite its intentions to get close to Mercury, Bohemian Rhapsody is as intimate as a sold-out stadium show, with none of the accompanying power.