Two Bomb Mr. Cranky Movie Reviews

I don't know how religious Tommy Lee Jones is, but his parable of a man, a journey, and the power of forgiveness reeks of the level of smug righteousness that only a man like Pat Robertson could hope to match.

I have no idea what use rules are in movies, because any moron knows that within five minutes of any character barking off a list of rules, that person will promptly proceed to break them.

"The Warrior" won the award for "Best British Film" in 2004 at the British Academy Awards, which is some kind of bore-fest where snobbish Brits sit around and try to figure out which of their films has the most pronounced sense of repressed emotion.

There's a point where (Henry) Winkler pulls down his pants to show Bobby a Roy Orbison tattoo and director Frank Coraci is forced to use a butt-double of a realistically sized ass because, as we all know, you can spray-paint Winston Churchill's Iron Curtain speech across Winkler's ass in one continuous line and still have space for punctuation.

It's simple: if a play was meant to be a film, it wouldn't have been a play in the first place.

Let’s get this out of the way right at the beginning: Mickey Rourke is ugly.

In "There's Something about Mary," the Farrelly Brothers fail to extend themselves much further, deviating from their obsession with male ejaculatory fluid only so far as to explore the obvious symbolism of a groin-attacking dog, a penis-meets-zipper accident, and, of course, Mary herself (the presumed "ejaculatee").

I mean, what exactly is the objective here? To beat a subject so thoroughly into the ground that people begin hurling themselves onto the electrified third rails of subways to escape the sheer monotony?

This film looks like it was shot by my grandmother.

Obviously, Cameron was going to sink or swim with this project, but couldn't he have subsumed his world-class ego for one second and given the writing assignment to somebody with an imagination?