The Chronicles of Riddick is worse than stomach cancer.

I am a different man indeed: reverential, empathetic, and fully devoted to the lives of three elderly gentlemen

I have not renounced my heterosexuality, nor have I fallen under the spell of some domineering theater major…

Cheaper by the Dozen is easily the most militantly offensive, pro-family horror show I have seen this year.

Preferably, never.

What should I expect from a movie that is directed by a grown man who calls himself McG?

I’d actually given Lucy Lui’s ass a separate credit. It gets more screen time than Bill Murray, so I think the credit is warranted.

I knew I was in for an unprecedented summer crapfest when I encountered a goddamn retard before ever setting foot in the theater.

So there we have it: Spielberg puts on a good show. But is he an artist? I have never thought so…

If it was my movie, it would have been Kleinfeld’s Way