December 31, 1999 12:00 PM

Baby Geniuses

Easily the worst kid’s movie of the year, and that’s a competitive category. If the toddlers in this dopey comedy were so brainy, you would think they’d have been able to whip up a better script.

Crazy in Alabama

Melanie Griffith drives across the country with the severed head of the husband she murdered in a hatbox beside her. The head keeps up a steady stream of chatter. Enough said?

The Haunting

When you find yourself laughing repeatedly at what is supposed to be a scary movie, it’s not a good sign. Even sexy Catherine Zeta-Jones, parading about in Prada boots, couldn’t save this nightmare.

Message in a Bottle

Kevin Costner was at his most pretentiously lugubrious as a grieving widower who can’t let himself love again. Long, slow and way too sappy.

The Messenger: The Story of Joan of Arc

Milla Jovovich stunk worse than rotting frontage as she shrieked through this bloody pseudo-epic. Saints preserve us—from films like this.

The Mod Squad Even a totally hip and happening cast (Claire Danes, Giovanni Ribisi and Omar Epps) couldn’t breathe life into a lame big-screen version of the groovy late-’60’s TV series. Like, totally boring.

Ravenous

A black comedy about cannibalism in the Old West was as appetizing as the human carcasses upon which star Robert Carlyle fed.

Simply Irresistible

Au contraire. Sarah Michelle Gellar may rule as TV’s Buffy the Vampire Slayer, but she’s no Audrey Hepburn, which is what this dippy romantic comedy, about a woman whose cooking was aphrodisiacal stove-top magic, tried to make her out to be.

Stigmata

Trying to decide whether Stigmata or End of Days was the worse the-devil-made-me-do-it thriller proved taxing, but the dishonor goes to Stigmata; at least End of Days had Arnold Schwarzenegger trying hard to act. Either way, versatile Gabriel Byrne deserves a free copy of the Gideon Bible for playing a priest who has to save the world in Stigmata—and the Devil trying to do just the opposite in End of Days.

Wild Wild West

Even Will Smith can’t be a hoot every time. He sure wasn’t here. When a friend fell asleep during this hapless, gadget-heavy adaptation of the ’60s TV series about a 19th-century secret agent, we let our buddy snooze. It wasn’t like he was missing anything.

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