1. Little Man
Even though it’s supposed to be a broad, lewd, lowest-brow Wayans brothers comedy about a midget jewel thief posing as a boob-ogling toddler, this crotch-centric burlesque dips lower and lousier than any Wayansite should have to endure.
Even though it’s supposed to be a sappy lesson in the conservative joys of family togetherness as well as a zany road trip with Robin Williams in his caring-dad mode, this dumb lesson in healing through fecal sight gags is so poopy that it’s not clear whether director Barry Sonnenfeld was going for group therapy or high colonic.
Even though we know what to expect by now in the umpteenth derivative Harrison Ford action pic in which the taciturn star saves the world (or at least his family) by violently busting the heads of bad guys, who knew the aura of sour peevishness Ford exudes would become its own firewall against tolerability?
4. Art School Confidential
Even those who have come to expect artsy existential bleakness in the work of director Terry Zwigoff and art-house cartoonist Daniel Clowes didn’t sign up for this bilious portrait of art-student miserabilism, a smugly sullen downer that treats viewers as outsiders.
Even though the subtitle An Imaginary Portrait of Diane Arbus should have been a tip-off to creative indulgence, I was dumbstruck by the torpid, strenuous wrongness both of the story and of the casting — Nicole Kidman as the late photographer, and Robert Downey Jr. as a hairy mystery man who unleashes her freak love.