Full of fake pieties and potty-mouthed ‘comedy,’ Tyler Perry’s writing-directing-acting debut proves he can’t do any of those things worth a damn.

Science fiction made by people who don’t understand science or fiction.

When people say they ‘hate art films,’ this is the kind of thing they mean: a slow, boring, slack waste of time ‘inspired by’ the death of Kurt Cobian that has none of the energy of Cobain’s life.

I understand that Hollywood likes super-hero flicks because they make money. But if Hollywood has to make these films, can’t they at least try to make sure they have real scripts and real directors, which these two films sorely lack?

J-Lo vs. J-Fo(nda)! But that’s not a movie; it’s a poster. And the end result is just as thin.

Another indulgent art-house film that can’t hold our interest as three great directors lather, rinse and repeat minor themes from other, major works.

Watch Get Shorty. Watch this. And shake your head at how far the follow-up landed from the original.

A‘50s showbiz mystery undermined by no mystery, ruined by Alison Lohman’s mis-casting and sold with scandal about sex instead of on it’s merits.

Technically impressive? Sure. But so over-praised it’s nauseating, especially by comic book nerds who don’t understand the genre Sin City’s plundering so clumsily – and one of the most sexist, least sexy films of the year.

Cameron Crowe takes another sentimental journey, but recycled Jerry Maguire-isms and pixie-ish angel girls can’t make this movie more than sentimental Baby-Boomer saccharine.