Adam Sandler's latest film That's My Boy centers around Donny Berger, whose illicit after-school affair with his totally hot teacher lands his paramour in prison and leaves Donny with their baby. Of course, because Adam Sandler is incapable of playing a not-terrible parent in everything (except for the pretty forgettable film Spanglish), his son "Han Solo" moves out as soon as he turns 18 (at which point he's grown up to look like Andy Samberg), changes his name to Todd and becomes a big shot in the financial world. And because Todd had to deal with 18 whole years of what we in the real world refer to as "child neglect and endangerment" (Todd develops diabetes after ballooning up from a diet of lollipops and cake and has to drive his drunk Dad home from nightly benders before he reaches fifth grade), he's developed an anxiety disorder and major attachment issues. He's also totally ditched dear old Dad and keeps his real identity a secret from everyone, including his fiancée Jamie (Leighton Meester).

A prime example of a franchise sequel that exists purely because it can, rather than because it should, Men in Black 3 arrives in theaters feeling like a relic from a distant past when Will Smith was the biggest movie star in the world. And it's possible that he still is, in which case it's the picture that's real small. Even though it affords its lead plenty of opportunities to flash that mega-watt smile and sharp comic timing and piles effects-heavy set piece on top of effects-heavy set piece, MiB3 can't mask its fundamental pointlessness. It's so instantly forgettable that even though I saw it in the theater in all its 3D-enhanced glory, I felt as though I was watching it at home during the late-night cable run it'll receive a few years hence. You know, one of those experiences where you randomly stumble upon a sequel while surfing the movie networks and go, "Oh right -- they made a third one" before changing the channel.

Based on the best-selling life manual, What to Expect What You're Expecting is exactly what you'd expect it to be... provided what you're expecting is a glossy, obnoxious and thoroughly underwhelming ensemble comedy about the joys and terrors of impending parenthood. For a subtle, nuanced and genuinely funny depiction of this major life change, give the movie a miss and spend your time catching up on NBC's Parenthood instead, especially since the show has been renewed for another year of Braverman hijinks. But if you do decide to test your tolerance for cheesy sitcom-level writing, slumming stars and extremely forced heart-tugging moments, here are the ten most annoying things you can expect to see onscreen.

It's a real shame that Sacha Baron Cohen's rise as a comedy star occurred after Mel Brooks stopped making movies, because the two likely would have hit off both personally and professionally. Beyond their shared Jewish heritage (a background that both men gleefully skewer at every opportunity), both of them are fearless provocateurs, pushing the bounds of comic decency right up to their breaking point. For those younger audiences who only know Brooks from his latter-day kinder, gentler movie parodies like Spaceballs and Robin Hood: Men in Tights, it's hard to overstate just how revolutionary comedies like The Producers and Blazing Saddles were at the time of their release. The latter movie in particular tackled racial humor with a boldness that's still bracing and you can track a direct line from Zero Mostel's brash, unscrupulous theatrical producer to one of Cohen's comic anti-heroes. In fact, we like to imagine the elderly Brooks uncorking a bottle of Manischewitz and kicking back for a double-bill of Cohen's first two features, Borat and Bruno.

Sacha Baron Cohen may be the main attraction of The Dictator, but don't be surprised if everyone who sees the movie comes out raving about his co-star Jason Mantzoukas. Best known as the outrageous Rafi on the FX series The League, the Upright Citizens Brigade-trained comic actor steals almost every scene he's in as Nadal, a nuclear scientist that runs afoul of Cohen's dictator, General Aladeen, in their home country of Wadiya only to emerge as his equal when the tyrant is stripped of his identity and let loose on the streets of New York. On a recent press pit stop in Manhattan, Mantzoukas spoke with us about testing his improvising skills against Cohen, what scenes didn't make it into The Dictator and why he hopes that Rafi never gets his own spin-off series.

The secret to Sacha Baron Cohen's particular brand of comedy has always been its unpredictability. When you watch one of his signature creations -- be it Ali G or Borat or Bruno -- interact with an unsuspecting dignitary, celebrity or just a plain old Average Joe, you have absolutely no idea what he'll do or say... or what they'll do or say in response. His ability to improvise in the moment without breaking character is what makes him such a formidable talent. Even if a particular encounter doesn't yield many laughs, you have to admire the guy for his fearlessness.

Maybe it's because his day job is starring on a long-running CBS sitcom, but Jason Segel's third self-penned star vehicle (after Forgetting Sarah Marshall and The Muppets, where he shared equal billing with his puppet co-stars (a point of contention for some of us in the audience), often feels more like the pilot for a half-hour television comedy rather than a feature film. In fact, it feels like five pilots crammed into one movie.

There are so many questions we can ask about the very existence of a Three Stooges reboot in 2012. But rather than wax philosophical and for the umpteenth time make fun of the pointlessness of this film or analyze its quality in the context of the decades it took the Farrelly Brothers to make it, let's get right to it: It's not that bad. It's certainly not worth going out of your way for, unless, of course, you truly love the Stooges, know someone who has a deep affinity for them or have a curious child who is just dying to see it. And if you do find yourself with a hankering to see Moe (Chris Diamantopoulos), Larry (Sean Hayes) and Curly (Will Sasso) on a '90s kids-movie style adventure (complete with evil villains and a fight with a lion!), here are three solid reasons to indulge:

It might have been easier to feel more enthusiastic about American Reunion if this was the first time we had seen Jim, Stifler and the rest of the American Pie crew since the first movie became a breakout hit back in 1999. Thirteen years on, the original holds up quite nicely; dated soundtrack aside (the fact that both "One Week" and "Flagpole Sitta" are blasted without any hint of irony clearly makes it a late '90s period piece), the jokes still land, the characters remain endearing and there's a genuine sweetness beneath the raunch that gives the film heart as well as humor. A sequel to that movie would be most welcome, in the same way that Richard Linklater took his time following up Before Sunrise with Before Sunset. Unfortunately, in between American Pie and American Reunion, the brand name was tarnished by two mostly terrible sequels (2003's American Wedding was particularly dire) and a line of flat-out awful direct-to-DVD spin-offs (which, to be fair, didn't feature any of the original cast, with the exception of Eugene Levy). As a result Reunion arrives in theaters appearing less like a triumphant homecoming than the last gasp of a flatlining franchise.

If you're in the mood for a few good laughs before the serious-as-a-heart-attack dystopian action movie The Hunger Games drops next Friday, 21 Jump Street is your best option. But if the idea of a remake of an old '80s TV series -- even one that features the young year's strangest and strongest comedy duo, Jonah Hill and Channing Tatum -- makes you reflexively cringe, there are two other options this weekend: a pair of smaller comedies with some big-name talent involved. Jason Segel, Ed Helms and Susan Sarandon headline the purposefully meandering stoner flick Jeff, Who Lives at Home, while Will Ferrell ventures south of the border for the telenovela spoof Casa de mi Padre. Buyer beware, though: neither movie is as consistently amusing or as pleasantly satisfying as Jump Street. We know -- we're surprised too.