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THE SCORPION KING In the ripe-cheese tradition of Conan the Barbarian, Kull the Conqueror and dozens of grade-Z sword-and-sorcery epics that invariably featured the hammy likes of Jack Palance or Richard Lynch as the sneering villain, we now get The Scorpion King, a made-on-the-run quickie meant to transform the wrestling world's The Rock into the latest Schwarzenegger model. A prequel to last year's The Mummy Returns (which itself was a sequel to 1999's The Mummy), this relates the back story of the villainous character The Rock played in that blockbuster's prologue, showing how he once was a likable anti-hero, a mercenary with a soft spot for kids, camels and comely sorceresses. In this outing, he squares off against a ruthless Russell Crowe wanna-be (Steven Brand) and a duplicitous warrior (Peter Facinelli) who looks like Christian Bale and talks like Tom Cruise. You also get a shapely co-star (Kelly Hu) who wears just enough clothing to maintain a PG-13 rating, a slumming Oscar nominee (The Green Mile's Michael Clarke Duncan) as a fellow fighter, special effects that are often downright laughable (dig those goofy ants), and a monolith of a leading man whose undeniable screen presence constantly wages war against his wooden line delivery. Thanks to its awareness of its own limitations, The Scorpion King is watchable enough, but you'll be satisfied after an hour. 
THE SWEETEST THING While there are dozens of movies each year that can be called box office hits, there are only one or two that can be deemed influential -- that is to say, the sort of picture that's not only financially successful but that's then endlessly aped by every fledgling filmmaker desperately hoping that lightning will strike twice. One obvious example is There's Something About Mary, a critical and commercial hit whose gross-out style has since been endlessly imitated in such duds as Saving Silverman, Say It Isn't So and now The Sweetest Thing. There are two things immediately apparent after watching this feature from the director of Cruel Intentions (Roger Kumble) and one of the writers of South Park (Nancy M. Pimental): 1) Cameron Diaz, Christina Applegate and Selma Blair clearly are all gifted comediennes; and 2) all three deserve to have their efforts showcased in a movie much better than this one. Billed as a romantic comedy, this instead proves to be about as romantic as a gas station urinal (one of which is featured prominently in this film). Ostensibly a keen analysis of what happens when a party girl (Diaz) realizes it might be that point in her life when she should stop fooling around and settle down into a long-term relationship, the film quickly chucks this promising idea in favor of lathering on a series of sight gags that are so ineptly staged by Kumble that they produce apathy rather than laughs or even disgust. 1/2
