Batman & Robin
Tired, uninspired and just plain dreary was how this fourth (and, let's hope, final) Batman movie played. As the new pointyeared superhero of the series, George Clooney proved something of a dour disappointment.

Bliss
Lots and lots of talk about sex and not much action in this dim-bulb tale of a frustrated yuppie couple starring Craig Sheffer and Sheryl Lee. But the furnishings couldn't have been lovelier.

Crash
Cult director David Cronenberg went way, way wrong with this stupefying drama about folks who are sexually aroused by car wrecks. It turned even good actors like James Spader and Holly Hunter into crash dummies.

8 Heads in a Duffel Bag
It was a big challenge to choose between this moronic Joe Pesci comedy about a Mob hit man and Gone Fishin', Pesci's other purported comedy release in '97. But 8 Heads has the worse groaner of a title, so it makes the list.

The Fifth Element
Even stalwart science fiction fans had to admit there was little going on besides cool sets and costumes in this bombastic, artillery-heavy picture. And Bruce Willis was just coasting through in Die Hard mode, but with blond hair.

G.I. Jane
See Demi Moore do push-ups. See Demi do chin-ups. See Demi get a buzz cut. See this brutally violent, wannabe issue film collapse under the weight of both its leading lady's oh-so-serious performance and its own terminal dopiness.

Lost Highway
Although it started off promisingly enough, director David Lynch's latest journey into weirdness soon became way too bizarre for anyone but his most ardent art school fans. And what the heck was Robert Blake doing in that kabuki-like makeup?

The Postman
Did Kevin Costner learn nothing from Waterworld? Not to be mistaken for an American remake of Il Postino, this nearly three-hour, futuristic borathon featured director-star Costner front and center in nearly every scene. He played a Shakespeare-spouting drifter turned reluctant hero who inspires the common folk by delivering mail in a postapocalyptic America. Sealed with a hiss.

The Saint
Val Kilmer modeled a dozen wigs and fake beards and just as many accents, but all his hamming couldn't disguise the complete lack of a coherent script behind this pointless mess of an action picture.

Speed 2: Cruise Control
Glub, glub, glub. Despite much huffing and puffing by a game Sandra Bullock, this seagoing sequel proved a floating piece of heavy metal. And Jason Patric was no Keanu Reeves.