IMAGINE THAT:

I find Eddie Murphy infuriating. It used to be that you could count on Eddie to raise a smile or two at the movies. I loved his silly giggle in Beverly Hills Cop, his version of Greatest Love of All in Coming to America, and the “My mother was like Clint Eastwood with a shoe...” routine from Delirious is one of the funniest monologues ever, but that was when Eddie and I were both much younger. Now the prospect of a new Eddie Murphy movie is as welcome as a case of gingivitis. That makes me angry. He may be the biggest, most talented star in Hollywood who consistently makes the worst movies. Don’t get me wrong, nobody hits a home run every time but Murphy’s recent batting average is worse than most. Meet Dave, The Adventures of Pluto Nash, The Haunted Mansion and Norbit are among the most annoying movies ever made. His 2009 film, Imagine That, doesn’t plumb the depths of Pluto Nash or Norbit, but is only a slight improvement on his recent output.

PINK PANTHER 2:

There was a time when the teaming of Steve Martin, John Cleese and Lily Tomlin would have sent tsunami sized ripples through the comedy world. Mr. Wild and Crazy paired with comedy legends from Monty Python and Laugh In would have guaranteed laughs and big box office mojo. That would have been 1978. Unfortunately for us and them, it's 2009. The three comedy legends co-star in the unimaginatively titled Pink Panther 2, an uninspired and unnecessary sequel to Martin's 2006 reimagining of the classic Peter Seller's character.

MISS MARCH:

Miss March is what I call a Farch Comedy, the kind of movie that only seems to be released in the vast wasteland that is the February-March stretch. It’s a movie so unyieldingly unfunny, so relentlessly insipid it makes Dumb and Dumber seem like Les Amants magnifiques. It’s a comedy about a twenty-something who comes out of a four-year coma to find his high-school sweetheart has become a centerfold in Playboy magazine. Starring two guys you’ve never heard of, and likely won’t hear much from in future, Miss March is one of the most annoying films to come down the pike in a long while.

ASTRO BOY:

I was paid to watch Astro Boy and as such had to stay through to the end. If not, however, for the pay cheque and professional ethics it would have taken a seat belt to keep me in my chair through to the closing credits. The new film is one of those dreaded North American reworkings of Asian pop culture. In it a brilliant scientist, Dr. Tenma (voiced by Nicolas Cage), loses his son to a tragic accident. Unable to cope with his loss he builds a robot in the image of his late son. Tenma doesn’t realize how creepy an idea this is until it is too late and the young robot feelings of his own. Astro Boy’s deadly mix of bad writing, tepid action and uninspired voice work sinks the film despite the character’s long and storied history.


ICE AGE: DAWN OF THE DINOSAURS:

Ice Age: Dawn of the Dinosaurs should be titled Ice Age: Pray for Extinction; extinction for this lame animated franchise that has inexplicably limped along since 2002, spawning three movies, a couple of direct-to-video titles and several video games. These well intentioned, but dull movies (Ice Age and Ice Age 2: The Meltdown) are more an excuse to sell stuffed toys than to entertain. The new film is more of the same, introducing several new characters which seem primed and ready to take their place on toy store shelves in the movie swag section. Ice Age: Dawn of the Dinosaurs left me cold.

COUPLES RETREAT:

“Couples Retreat” starring Vince Vaughn and Jon Favreau, feels like a movie of missed opportunities. It’s not funny enough to be called a comedy and when the best relationship advice on offer is about finding the right person to take to Applebee’s, it can’t be called insightful either. What is it about comedies set on islands Remember “Club Paradise”? “Club Dread”? Sunshine and sky blue water seem to be comedy killers (except for “Gilligan’s Island” of course!). It’s certainly the case here.

KNOWING:

In the science fiction thriller Knowing Nicolas Cage bottoms out, handing in a ridiculous performance that completes (let’s hope!) his trilogy of Razzie Award worthy work. From The Wicker Man to Bangkok Dangerous and now Knowing, it’s as if Cage is engaging in an experiment with extreme b-movie acting. He’s always ridden the line between the sublime (Wild at Heart) and the ridiculous (Face/Off) but even in his most over-the-top glory the risks he takes have been interesting, if not always successful. Who else would eat a live cockroach on screen? In recent years though, it’s as if he’s all risk and no judgment. How else do you explain the bear suit in Wicker Man or the absurd wig in Bangkok Dangerous? Knowing marks the third time in as many years that Cage has played a parody of the edgy characters that he used to excel at.

CROSSING OVER:

Crossing Over, a new film from The Cooler director Wayne Cramer, came to the screen with a bit of a back-story. Shot in 2007 it languished in post production hell, including having Sean Penn demand his small cameo role be cut and distributor Harvey Weinstein threatening to bypass a theatrical release and dump it directly to DVD. It foundits way to the big screen in 2009 but something tells me Penn and Weinstein were on to something. Crossing Over takes several storylines about immigrants of different nationalities struggling to achieve legal status in Los Angeles and bangs them together into one hodgepodge of a movie. It takes an all-star-ish cast—including Harrison Ford, Ray Liotta, Judd and Across the Universe’s Jim Sturgess—and hangs them out to dry in a well meaning but ham-fisted and poorly made film.

THE UGLY TRUTH:

Kathryn Heigl is gorgeous. She’s a blonde bombshell in the tradition of Jean Harlow, a collection of curves, fiery lips and bundled blonde hair that looks as though she just slithered out of a 1950s film noir. She’s also smart, produces her own films and is out spoken about all the right causes. She should be the total package, but the trouble is, on screen, I find her cold. Her 2009 film with Gerard Butler, The Ugly Truth, feels like an updated Doris Day / Rock Hudson battle of the sexes; a look at how men and women perceive one another but The Ugly Truth is neither ugly—Heigl and Butler see to that—or truthful—the hackneyed take on relationships sees to that.

And now... drum roll please... the worst movie of the year! The bottom of the barrel, the movie I wouldn’t even make my worst enemy watch, a film so bad it should play at Abu Ghraib cinema non stop for the prisoners… a movie I gave my lowest star rating ever to… that’s minus infinity times 10….

I HOPE THEY SERVE BEER IN HELL: 

Leaving the theatre after seeing “I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell” I felt as though I was leaving behind a crime scene—a crime against entertainment. This low budget adaptation of a best selling book of the same name by Tucker Max has all the appeal of watching an autopsy. And I don’t mean the safe and sanitary kind of autopsy seen on “CSI”, but the real deal where the medical examiner is covered in gore and noxious fumes fill the air. The story is unconvincing, unrealistic and given its low production value, unwatchable. That’s to say nothing of the film’s unforgivable misogyny, sexism and a climax that rates among the most unpleasant ever filmed. Finish your popcorn before the bathroom scene… trust me. “I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell” isn’t just a bad movie; it’s a slap in the face to anyone who pays money to see it.