CORIOLANUS: 3 STARS

Anyone who tries to argue that Shakespeare is no longer relevant only has to see “Coriolanus,” the new film by Ralph Fiennes, based on the Bard’s 1608 play, to be proven wrong. The story of a banished Roman hero who vows revenge on his city has echoes of the Occupy Wall Street movement, the Tea Party and the 99%. That it also has a towering performance by Vanessa Redgrave is simply the icing on the top of a very old cake.

Set in present day Rome, the film centers on the title character (Fiennes), a great warrior who despises the people he is sworn to protect. When his run for elected office is undone by his extreme opinions, scheming politicians and an end run by his mother, Volumnia (Vanessa Redgrave) he is banished from Rome. Seeking revenge he hatches a plan with his sworn enemy Tullus Aufidius (Gerard Butler) to destroy Rome. A dramatic appeal from Volumnia changes his mind, but alienates his new ally.  

Ralph Fiennes, in his directorial debut, takes a little known play and makes it relevant for our times. In light of the world’s recent social unrest—London riots, Occupy this and that, Syria—Fiennes has reached deep into the past to place modern events in context. The four hundred old dialogue reveals the primal nature of man—and how it hasn’t changed.

The fight for power, the thirst for revenge, the bond between a mother and son, the disenfranchisement of the people; these topics are as fresh today as they were in Shakespeare’s day.

Timeliness aside, the film works as a dramatic piece. Fiennes uses handheld cameras to add a sense immediacy, as though we’re watching a live newscast. As usual the wobbly cam makes one feel seasick by the time the first double-cross has happened, but it does add visual energy. Add to that battle scenes shot by The Hurt Locker cinematographer Barry Ackroyd and you have a movie filled with lines like “Death, that dark spirit, in ‘s nervy arm doth lie; Which, being advanced, declines, and then men die,” and yet feels absolutely modern.

As for the acting, Fiennes is fine, refined yet feral. Voldemort with a nose and a habit a furiously spitting as he speaks.  Gerrad Butler surprises with his range and Brian Cox as the backstabbing politico Menenius, a two-faced senator playing both sides against the middle is powerful, but it is Vanessa Redgrave who controls the screen.

Distilling decades of performing Shakespeare on film and the stage she hits all the right notes, creating a character who would be recognizable to a seventeenth century audience, but works beautifully on screen. Her final showdown with her son on a barren road is a tour-de-force and worth the price of admission alone.

“Coriolanus” isn’t the masterful work that Ian McKellan’s “Richard III” was, but it is a passionate, interesting film that feels ripped from the headlines.

CONTRABAND: 3 ½ STARS

In the New Orleans-set crime thriller “Contraband” Mark Wahlberg plays Chris Farraday, a reformed-criminal-turned-loving-father forced to do the proverbial one last job when his brother-in-law Andy (Caleb Landry Jones) runs afoul of a local gangster (Giovanni Ribisi). To square the deal and pay-off Andy’s debt Chris agrees to go back into his old line of work—smuggling contraband goods. In this case he must illegally transport millions of dollars in counterfeit bills. But can he navigate around the police, ruthless drug lords and double crosses to keep Andy and his family safe?  

It used to be that January was the dumping ground for movies that the studios thought nobody wanted to see. It is usually the domain of movies like “Bloodrayne” and bad Freddie Prinze Jr. rom coms, the kind of movies that hover around the 2% “fresh” rating on Rotten Tomatoes.

But “Contraband” is actually a pretty good thriller. It's not brilliant, but it’s better than the spelling challenged “Thr3e” which was released this time a few years ago.

It succeeds mainly because Wahlberg can play both a believable badass and concerned family man, usually in the same scene. Maybe it’s art imitating life—Wahlberg has a checkered past, but is now a devout Catholic and family man—but that dichotomy makes “Contraband’s” unbelievable smuggling scheme easier to swallow. He’s fun to watch because he’s unpredictable, nuzzling the kids one minute, shoving the muzzle of gun in a bad guy’s face the next.

The rest of the movie isn’t as unpredictable, but it is entertaining. Fast paced—except for a brief mid-movie dip—it has some good action scenes, a suitably high body count and some over-the-top work from Giovanni Ribisi. Between the scene chewing here and his work in “The Rum Diary” Ribisi is proving himself to be the hungriest actor in Hollywood next to Nic Cage.

Less interesting are some of the supporting characters. Ben Foster, a fine but typecast actor, really needs to break away from the deadbeat kind of characters he’s been playing lately. More work like his heartrending performance in “The Messenger” please and less like paint-by-number creepy guys he plays in movies like “The Mechanic” and “Contraband.”

Even more disheartening is Kate Beckinsale who is relegated to the damsel in distress role. You’d think after kicking werewolf butt in four “Underworld” movies she’d be able to defend herself by now.

“Contraband” may not be edge of your seat stuff, but it is at least middle of your seat entertainment, and a whole lot better than the usual January fare.

CARNAGE: 4 ½ STARS

It is likely that director Roman Polanski will not be buying a condo near you any time soon. Not only because he would be arrested if he set foot on North American soil—he’s a fugitive from American justice—but because he clearly sees the confined spaces of apartment life as stifling, claustrophobic and toxic. In movie after movie—“The Tenant,” “Repulsion,” “Rosemary’s Baby” and now “Carnage”—these closed in spaces are scenes of tension and strife.

Based on Yazmina Reza’s play “God of Carnage” the film has a simple premise. Nancy and Alan Cowan (Kate Winslet and Christoph Waltz) pay a visit to the Brooklyn apartment of Penelope and Michael Longstreet (Jodie Foster and John C. Reilly) to discuss an altercation between their children in a nearby park. At first, at last superficially, all seems to go well, despite Alan’s insistence on having loud cell phone conversations and Penelope’s passive aggressive tirades. Soon, however, civility gives way to anarchy.       

“Carnage” is a comedy of manners—bad manners. The humor—and there are many laughs—however, come from the situations and not jokes with punch lines.  

Polanski deliberately keeps the style of the film simple and focuses on the performances and the dialogue. It’s all about the words—and one unexpected but spectacular puke scene—and not one syllable is out of place. Only Polanski, with the aid of two great actors—Waltz and O’Reilly—could make a conversation about toilet flush mechanisms so menacing and so funny.

It’s a sharply written war of words performed by actors who are clearly relishing the chance to get under the skins of their characters and each other. Nancy, Penelope and Michael are all as thinned skinned as the cheap veneer on Michael’s bookshelf. Only Alan, the cutthroat lawyer, seems to understand and appreciate the dynamic in play.  

As the undercurrent of tension in the early scenes gives way to the overt hostility of the climax you can see the actors stretching their muscles.

Although her character is tightly wound Jody Foster has rarely been this loose on screen. It’s a highly theatrical performance, complete with bulging forehead veins and furrowed brows, which expertly reveals not only the character’s political correctness, but also her self pity and ultimately her self loathing. When she says, “There’s no reason to lose our cool here,” you know she doesn’t really mean it.       

Waltz finds his best role since “Inglourious Basterds” and Winslet is gloriously unhinged. Only O’Reilly seems slightly out of place. He’s fine in the early scenes as the big friendly lug trying to avoid confrontation, but less effective later on when his true colors are revealed.

“Carnage” pokes fun at the middle class, constantly shifting the power from couple to couple, gender to gender, class to class and person to person. It’s a microcosm of society, a fluid dynamic that, despite an abrupt ending that may leave some scratching their heads, is a fascinating look at what lies underneath the carefully manicured facades many of us present to the public.

CONAN THE BARBARIAN: 4 FOR BARBARIANS, 2 FOR EVERYONE ELSE

These days the most famous Conan is a flame haired TV host with the last name O’Brien, but that may change this weekend when a new Conan hits screens. Instead of chatting up celebrity talking heads this Conan is beheading rival tribesmen.

The new “Conan the Barbarian” has all the earmarks of the infamous Arnold Schwarzenegger 80’s cheese fests. There’s a bare-chested hero (Jason Momoa), damsels in distress (Rachel Nichols), big swords and a character described as “a mysterious warrior of dark magic” (Rose McGowan).

It’s a revenge story sparked by the murder of Conan’s father (Ron Perlman) and the slaughter of everyone in his Cimmerian village by a power hungry bandit (Stephen Lang) and his henchmen. Young Conan witnessed the whole thing and though helpless to stop the carnage then, vows to use his giant muscles and even bigger sword to hunt down and destroy the men at the root of all his daddy issues.

With a name like “Conan the Barbarian” you know pretty much what you in for. “Eat, Pray, Love” this ain’t. Maybe “Eat, Slay, Love.” There are several epic battle scenes, a cool fight with magical sand warriors and the “Clash of the Titan’s” Kraken even makes an appearance. It’s not for the faint of heart (also, horse lovers might want think twice about this as well) but what did you expect from a movie with the word Barbarian in the title?

It’s a kind of take-it-or-leave-it proposition. If you’re a fan of sword and sorcery movies then this will be for you. If the idea of blood spurting off the screen in glorious 3D appeals, then by all means have a look. If not, well the talking ape movie is still in theatres.

THE CHANGE UP: 3 STARS

"The Change Up," a new comedy starring Ryan Reynolds and Jason Bateman, is like two movies in one. It's part gross out comedy, part heart tugger and all Hollywood switcheroo.

Reynolds and Bateman are Mitch and Dave, best friends since grade three but total opposites. Bateman is a career mind lawyer and family man, Reynolds a slacker womanizer who lives like a frat boy. Both have a bad case of "the grass is always greener" and on one freaky Friday they wake up to discover they have switched personalities. Of course no one will believe their outlandish story of personality swapping so they are forced to live each other's lives until they can figure out how to switch back. Mitch must fake being a lawyer and Dave has to... well, pretend to be a slacker. In their time in each other's bodies they discover much about themselves--Dave learns not to be so uptight and Mitch learns never to let Dave get a tatoo--and learn to rspect one another's lives.

"The Change-Up" feels as though it switched directors midway through. The first hour is all gross out--baby endangerment, diaper hijinx and pregnant sex kittens--but into the second hour the characters not only start respecting one another, but the audience as well. It's still pretty outrageous stuff, but it has far more heart than the first half and the "I can't believe they just did that" laughs morph into genuine laughs based on the story and characters.

Bateman and Reynolds have good chemistry and do a nice, subtle job of integrating the other's personality tics into their performances. Bateman adds a little "Van Wilder" to his speech and Reynolds drops his energy a few notches to match Bateman's more laconic style. It works because they are both likeable actors, with charm and charisma to burn. They can play the comedy, but later, when real life enters the story, they can play that as well. This would have been a much different movie if flat out comedians like Will Ferrell and Danny McBride or thesps like Al Pacino and Sean Penn had been cast as the leads.     

"The Change Up" feels a bit wonky, as if it can't decide whether to be an R-rated gross fest or a heartfelt rom com. Somewhere between the two is a better movie than the one we got, but for those with a strong stomach for diaper humor there ae some laughs here.

COWBOYS & ALIENS: 4 STARS

"Cowboys & Aliens," the latest movie from "Iron Man" director Jon Favreau, is the kind of sci-fi film John Ford might have made, or maybe the kind of story H.G. Wells would have told if he wrote a western. There's great scenery shots, lots of galloping horses, chiselled jaws, majestic vistas and yes, giant mysterious aliens.

Based on a 2006 graphic novel of the same name "Cowboys & Aliens" is set in the Old West in 1873. Daniel Craig plays a classic western character -- Jake Lonergan, a stranger in town -- with a twist. Waking up in the desert, he's a stranger to everyone, including himself -- his memory has been wiped clean. Odder still, a mysterious metal bracelet around his wrist. In the nearby town of Absolution, New Mexico he begins to find some clues as to his past courtesy of Colonel Dolarhyde (Harrison Ford), the settlement's most prominent citizen. Their inevitable showdown is sidelined by what may be a cowboy movie first -- an alien invasion. Soon the stranger starts to regain his memory and his wrist jewellery reveals its real purpose.

You should know going in that the ratio of cowboys to aliens is about 10 to 1. If I had to categorize this movie I'd call it a western sci fi rather than a sci fi western. It's splitting hairs I know, but the onus here is on the horse opera. And Favreau and cast pull it off. Until giant spaceships swoop in, pulling awestruck citizens into their metal bosoms, the movie plays as a credible western.

Even when the alien craft first appears, the reactions of the town folk feel real. They're obviously stunned, and decide that these creatures must be what demons look like. It's an old testament via the old west explanation for something they don't understand and it works well. So does Daniel Craig and an increasingly craggily faced Harrison Ford. Craig brings an interesting edge to the stereotypical stranger role and Ford gives the movie some old school heroics.

"Cowboys and Aliens" gets a little flabby in the middle -- unlike its buff leading man -- and takes a bit too long to get to the extraterrestrials, but has
enough Wowee moments to fill a ten gallon hat.

CRAZY, STUPID, LOVE: 4 STARS

"Crazy, Stupid, Love," a new ensemble comedy about love, lust and relationships, features a familiar premise but an unfamiliar performance.

We may have seen the "no matter how old you get you never understand love" storyline before, but "Crazy, Stupid, Love" also offers up something we haven't been exposed to -- a funny performance from star Ryan Gosling.

As man-about-town Jacob Palmer, Gosling, the usually oh-so-serious star of "Half Nelson" and "Blue Valentine," reveals a previously unseen gift for comedy. The guy very nearly steals the show and that's saying something considering he's starring opposite Steve Carell.

Carell is Cal Weaver, a happily married man whose marriage falls apart when his wife Emily (Julianne Moore) tells him she is desperately unhappy and wants a divorce. Now alone, Cal starts hanging around a trendy LA bar where he meets Jacob (Gosling), a handsome slick talker who calls his dates names like "fancy face." Jacob offers to tutor the newly single man in the art of seduction -- "I don't know if I should help you," he says to his sad sack student, "or euthanize you."  -- and dressing well. "Be better than the Gap," Jacob says in one burst of anti-product placement.

What starts out as "Pygmalion" for lounge lizards actually blossoms into a deeper friendship as Cal begins to see the world through different eyes and Jacob meets the girl of his dreams. Interwoven into this storyline are two other tales of love and life -- the trials of Cal's thirteen-year-old son (Jonah Bobo) who thinks his 17-year-old babysitter (Analeigh Tipton) is his soul mate and Hannah's (Emma Stone) search for the right guy.

"Crazy, Stupid, Love" is an ensemble comedy that is also a family drama. It's difficult to speak about the plot in its entirety without giving away some of the story's pleasures, but it's safe to say it's a sex comedy that's actually not about the sex. There's lots of talk about sex and even one very funny sex scene and one very touching non-sex scene. This isn't a prudish movie; it simply uses sex as a springboard to explore all the aspects of relationships.

This is also the movie that should go a long way to erase the image of Steve Carell as that guy from "The Office." He was masterful on that show and has been good in other movies -- particularly as the depressed Uncle Frank in "Little Miss Sunshine" and the title role in "Dan in Real Life" -- but here he absolutely nails the mix of comedy and pathos needed to make "Crazy, Stupid, Love" so memorable.

As good as he is -- and, for that matter, the rest of the cast including Julianne Moore and Emma Stone -- I have a feeling the person everyone will be talking about on the way out of the theatre is Ryan Gosling. He reveals a gift for comedy, a magnificent abdominal area and the ability to take a stereotype and turn it into a living, breathing character. This is a break through performance from the actor who has up till now done his best work in indie films. "Crazy, Stupid, Love" is a deeply satisfying movie. Funny, with adult conversations peppered in and great performances, the movie is a throwback to the kind of relationship movies Neil Simon used to write in the 70s. It's a welcome return to form.

CAPTAIN AMERICA: THE FIRST AVENGER: 3 STARS

"Captain America: The First Avenger," the latest in Marvel's roundup of superheroes, doesn't feel like the other hero movies we've seen recently. The hipness of Iron Man is absent, the jokey feel of Thor is gone. Instead this is an old fashioned action adventure movie with a person with extraordinary person at the heart of it.

After being rejected by the U.S. Army Steve Rogers (Chris Evans), determined to join his friends and country in the fight against Hitler, volunteers for Project: Rebirth, a secret military operation, where he is physically transformed into a muscle-bound super-soldier nicknamed Captain America. Dedicated to defending America's ideals, he and his handpicked team of heroes, take on the Red Skull (Hugo Weaving), Hitler's head of advanced weaponry.

"Captain America: The First Avenger" does a nice job at introducing the character into the film canon of Marvel superheroes. They wisely chose to start at the very beginning, which, as we all know is a very good place to start. The setting is WWII and director Joe Johnston has taken his lead from the propaganda movies of the period. The film, in look and in spirit is a throwback to the rah! rah! serials that would play before the main feature. To make the 1940s feel complete, in some scenes Toby Jones, who plays an evil arms expert, even seems to be channeling Peter Lorre.

It's over the top, but in a rather charming old school way. Perhaps part of the appeal is that in the complicated times we live in it's refreshing to see a movie that harkens back to a simpler time when the enemy was easily identifiable and a strong guy with a colorful shield and plenty of heart could be a hero.

Chris Evans does a nice job of playing the earnest Captain, and the technology that digitally places his head on the body of the pre-muscle bound Captain is flawless. Maybe the best performance in the movie.

Once again, however, the 3D adds nothing, save for some eye-popping subtitles and some really beautifully rendered 1940’s inspired closing credits.
The retro charm of "Captain America: First Avenger" is likely to be lost in the sequels and the "Avengers" movie, but for today it's old fashioned feel is like a breath of fresh air.

CONAN O’BRIEN CAN’T STOP: 3 STARS

This documentary about O’Brien’s 32 city pity tour after being turfed as host of The Tonight Show could more rightly be called Multi Millionaires Just Wanna Have Fun. The flame haired host repeatedly says he took his act on the road to have fun, but why doesn’t look like he’s having any? Wedged between rehearsal, onstage and candid backstage footage is a portrait of a wounded man struggling with a grave personal and professional disappointment. It’s like watching someone go through a bad breakup for 90 minutes, with musical numbers and the odd joke. For all showbiz aficionados but primarily for Coco completeists.

CARS 2: 2 STARS
 
Cars are one of the cool things about the James Bond series. From Aston Martin DB5s with pop out gun barrels and a remote control BMW, the autos have been a big part of those spy stories, so I guess it makes sense to make a spy story actually starring cars, but will it make sense to the kids it is aimed at?
 
The twelfth Pixar film, “Cars 2” comes five years after the original won a Golden Globe for Best Animated Feature Film. Once again, the story begins in the town of Radiator Springs, hometown to champion race car Lightning McQueen (voice of Owen Wilson), his pal Mater (voice of Larry the Cable Guy) and a host of other anthropomorphic cars and trucks. The action begins when McQueen and his tow truck BFF leave town to take part in a World Grand Prix race. While McQueen tears up the racetrack Mater good naturedly becomes embroiled in a top secret case of international espionage involving alternative fuel, corny jokes—“Is the Popemobile Catholic?”—and lots of frenetic action.
 
The first “Cars” film was my least favorite Pixar film—until now. The original was expertly made and wildly popular but for my money, lacked the kind of emotional punch of movies like “WALL-E,” “Toy Story” and “Up.” The new film has much of what you expect from Pixar—like beautiful animation—but seems to have left its heart at the junkyard. For the first time a Pixar movie feels more like a cynical excuse to sell merchandise—the original generated more than $5 billion in swag sales—than a fully realized film.
 
Stories laden with carefully developed messages and themes have always been Pixar’s strong point, but “Cars 2” with its overly complicated narrative and hard to follow messages about the importance of alternative fuel sources misses the mark. Before seeing the film I would have guessed that if anyone could make a kid’s movie about “big oil” and pull it off it would have been Pixar, but I would have been wrong.
 
The colorful characters will likely have the same kind of appeal for kids, especially young boys, as they did the first time around but fore me the new car smell is completely missing from the sequel. “Cars 2” is a clunker.

CEDAR RAPIDS: 2 STARS

In “Cedar Rapids,” a new comedy from “Youth in Revolt” director Miguel Arteta, Ed Helms plays a small town schlub who goes to the big city of Cedar Rapids and discovers a purpose in life. Unfortunately for moviegoers along for the ride, in Cedar Rapids, to borrow a phrase from Gertrude Stein, there’s no there there.

Tim Lippe (Helms) has worked at Brown Star Insurance his entire professional life. He’s a child-man whose boss says looked like a “kid who’s gonna go places… and then you just didn’t.” Nonetheless, when the year’s biggest insurance festival comes around Tim is sent to Cedar Rapids to represent the company and, hopefully, bring back the coveted Two Diamond Award for insurance excellence. Once there he dives headlong into a cesspool of corruption, wanton sex and drug use and learns that whatever happens at an ASMI convention in Cedar Rapids should stay in Cedar Rapids.

“Cedar Rapids” is a Sundance comedy. That means its character based and not a laugh a minute. In fact, it’s not even a laugh every five minutes kind of movie. Some of the characters are nicely defined. Anne Heche’s Joan, for instance, is an interesting portrait of a woman living life on her own terms. John C. Reilly’s Doug, however, is a caricature of the worst conventioneer ever. It makes his work in his Will Ferrell movies, like “Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby” and “Step Brothers” seem nuanced. Add to that Ed Helm’s now standard awkward man-child routine and you have a cast of characters that don’t seem to belong in the same movie.

“Cedar Rapids” stays with its characters as they forge toward a feel good ending, the trouble is, since they don’t feel like real people we don’t really care what happens to them. 

CASINO JACK: 2 ½ STARS
 
“Casino Jack” is a dark look at the American dream. Based on the true story of Washington lobbyist Jack Abramoff’s rise and fall, it recreates the heady days of DC’s greediest decade.
 
Director George Hickenlooper (who died last year at age 47) lays out a complicated story of how Abramoff peddled his influence on Capitol Hill in return for large cheques. The trouble really starts when he defrauds a Native American tribe out of millions of dollars that he then invests in a floating casino. Add to the mix a crooked mattress salesman (Jon Lovitz), a psychopathic gangster (the late, great Maury Chaykin), a kosher restaurant and a trophy wife or two and you get the essence of Abramoff’s strange tale.  
 
The film begins with a bravura scene of Abramoff (Kevin Spacey) delivering a pep talk to the bathroom mirror that sets the tone for the rest of this fast talking film. The movie moves along like a rocket, propelled by Spacey’s performance. One quibble though, throughout the movie Abramoff and his partner Michael Scanlon (Barry Pepper) stop the action dead time after time by quoting, verbatim, scenes from other movies, complete with vocal impressions and facial tics. It’s annoying in real life when people do that and it is a device that wears out its welcome VERY early on in the movie.
 
Apart from those missteps there are good performances all round, although this is Spacey’s movie. The only actor who comes close to pulling focus away from the two time Oscar winner is comedian Jon Lovitz, who has a showy and funny role as a devil-may-care sleaze bag.     
 
Hickenlooper pitches the tone of the entire movie around Spacey’s tightly wound performance. The movie is as playful as the performance, which is sometimes at odds with the story. Abramoff was a narcissistic and nakedly greedy character, not qualities to be admired, but the movie seems to be a bit too impressed with him nonetheless. It’s true that he was a complicated guy who gave away much of the money he illicitly earned but despite his occasional good works he isn’t the loveable scamp the movie tries to present. For a different, and more accurate portrayal, of him check out Alex Gibney’s documentary “Casino Jack and the United States of Money.”

THE COMPANY MEN: 3 ½ STARS

“The Company Men,” a new downsizing drama starring Ben Affleck, Chris Cooper and Tommy Lee Jones, is the flipside of last year’s hit “Up in the Air.” Where George Clooney and company gave us a glimpse into the inner workings of how companies fire employees, “The Company Men” shows us the other side, what happens to people who find themselves suddenly left out in the cold.

The story revolves around three men in different stages of their careers at GTX, a shipping and manufacturing conglomerate in the midst of restructuring and sale. Middle management type Bobby Walker (Affleck) is the first to be let go. He’s arrogant, refuses to believe he is unemployable, and is convinced there is a corner office with his name on the door somewhere out there. Cooper is Phil Woodward, a few rungs higher on the ladder, but also a few years older. When he gets fired his grey hair gets in the way of finding a new job. Finally at the top of the ladder is Gene McClary (Jones), the company’s         gruff CFO. He’s a corporate shark tired of swimming in infested waters.

“The Company Men” taps into the zeitgeist. According to the movie corporations are big bad soulless beasts that have led to the collapse of the homegrown manufacturing industry. The only way America will survive, it suggests, is by getting back to basics, switching off Bloomberg TV and putting employees in front of the bottom line. It’s not a revolutionary premise, but it is a timely and crowd pleasing one.

Performances are top notch from Affleck whose arrogant façade slowly gets chipped away until he is forced to deal with his humiliation, fear and anger to Cooper’s world weary white collar panic but it is Jones and Kevin Costner who really shine. Jones’s take on a corporate bigwig rediscovering his idealism is by times warm, by time caustic but always compelling, and Costner, as a small businessman—read: salt of the earth—who doesn’t worry about the books as much as he does for his workers is terrific in a small but important role. 

It may be hard to make us feel empathy for former highflyers whose biggest issue is where to place the second Christmas tree or how much to ask for their Porsche but “The Company Men” does a good job of shining a light on the situation as a whole and leveling the playing field, telling a story about the people and not the corporations that spawned them.

COUNTRY STRONG: 3 STARS

In “Country Strong” Gwyneth Paltrow plays Kelly Canter, a troubled country music superstar whose husband (Tim McGraw) pulls her out of rehab to plot her comeback tour. While getting clean she befriends orderly Beau (“Tron: Legacy’s” Garrett Hedlund) who also, conveniently, happens to be a musician. Beau ends up sharing the tour’s opening slot with beauty-queen-turned-singer Chiles Stanton (“Gossip Girl’s” Leighton Meester), and all four end up sharing more than just music and road stories.

The first line of Country Strong’s catchiest song, Give Into Me, is “I’m gonna wear you down,” and sure enough the movie did wear me down in the last thirty minutes. For the first hour or so I thought the film had as much authentic country spirit as a Muzak version of a Hank Williams song but it finally won me over. As a look at the downside of the country music game it pales by comparison to last year’s “Crazy Heart,” but despite a script thick enough with clichés to choke Roy Rogers’s horse and the blandest direction this side of “Hee Haw,” it comes together in its closing minutes.

Much of this is due to its star Garrett Hedlund who rebounds from his bland leading man work in “Tron: Legacy” to deliver a convincing performance as a Townes Van Zandt-style singer-songwriter and love interest. He walks away with the movie, stealing it outright from Gwyneth Paltrow—I know, I know, she did her own singing... so did he—who can’t be down home no matter how hard she tries. She has a couple of moments—a really beautiful scene with a Make-A-Wish child and a drunken backseat conversation with Chiles— but the character is so thinly written there’s very little for her or the audience to hang onto. Leighton Meester fares a bit better, but mostly because her country Barbie character has good chemistry with Hedlund.

At almost two hours “Country Strong” is too long and despite its downbeat subject matter—the flipside of fame, alcoholism and jilted love—isn’t quite authentically hurtin’ enough to qualify as real country.

THE CHRONICLES OF NARNIA: THE VOYAGE OF THE DAWN TREADER: 1 STAR

In 2005 “The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe” brought the first of seven of CS Lewis’s beloved series of fantasy novels to the screen to big box office returns. The second installment, “The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian” was a summer release and fared poorly, so the film’s producers are hoping for a return to form with “The Chronicles of Narnia: The Voyage of the Dawn Treader,” which arrives in theatres just in time for the family friendly Christmas season.

In this episode Edmund and Lucy Pevensie (Skandar Keynes and Georgie Henley) have been sent to live with their uncle in the English countryside to escape the dangers of World War II London. With no wardrobes in sight it looks like another trip to the fantasy land of Narnia isn’t in store, but when a painting comes to life, dousing their uncle’s house with sea water they (and their snot nosed cousin) are transplanted to a Narnian ship called the Dawn Treader and reunited with King Caspian (Ben Barnes). Their mission, should they choose to accept—and you know they will—is to battle against slave traders, uncover the mystery of the evil green mist and find seven enchanted swords to bring peace to all Narnians.   

The Narnia movies should be a cross of “Harry Potter” and “Lord of the Rings,” but for some reason they never caught fire the way those other fantasy franchises did. Like those other popular movies they have engaging central characters, fantastic creature creations and brave new worlds but they also have something the other movies don’t—dull storylines. The books are classic but the oomph of Lewis’s prose hasn’t translated to the screen. The movies just kind of sit there, despite all the special effect pomp and circumstance. Add to that a deadly character named Eustace—surely a candidate for the British Twit Hall of Fame—and you have a movie that is more an endurance test than enjoyable seasonal entertainment.
   
“The Chronicles of Narnia: The Voyage of the Dawn Treader” feels like a franchise that has over stayed its welcome and as it borrows liberally from “The Wizard of Oz,” the bible and even “Ghostbusters” could more likely re called “Voyage of the Retreaders.” 

CONVICTION: 3 STARS

“Conviction,” a new true-life crime drama starring Hilary Swank as a woman who believes her brother has been wrongly convicted of murder, is the Hollywood version of real events. Actors Swank, Sam Rockwell and Juliette Lewis go hayseed with Gomer Pyle accents and blackened teeth in an inspirational story where dramatic epiphanies conveniently pop up whenever the story starts to sag.

Swank and Rockwell play Betty Ann and Kenny Waters, a closely knit brother and sister from rural Massachusetts. The Kenny is a charming hell raiser, specializing in petty crimes and prone to hanging moons in bars. When a local woman is brutally murdered, however, serious attention comes his way. Everyone believes he is guilty, everyone, that is, except Betty Ann who spends more than a decade earning a law degree to help prove her brother’s innocence.
 
“Conviction” is a crowd pleaser in the vein of “Erin Brockovich.” It features fine performances from Swank and Rockwell and an unhinged cameo from Lewis that proves she is as fearless as ever, coupled with a stirring story. It has some nice emotional moments but for all its crowd pleasing ways, it is about as conventional a movie as we’ll see this year. Evidence is uncovered just in the nick of time and at one point Betty Ann and her best friend Abra (a very good Minnie Driver) even dance in joy. The by-the-book retelling of this compelling story doesn’t do it any favors; the opening half hour drags, plot points seem a bit too convenient and the emotional moments a bit too standard.

It is however, almost salvaged by some very good actors, but what should have been a memorable recounting of a remarkable story fades very quickly after the closing credits have stopped rolling.

CATS & DOGS: THE REVENGE OF KITTY GALORE: 3 STARS

There was a time when a spy movie starring Roger Moore was cause for excitement. It was a guarantee of cool gadgets, some intrigue and at least one character with a name like Kitty Galore. His new film has all those things, except instead of a Stun Gas Cigarette or a storyline about a villain trying to destabilize Western Europe or character with a vaguely sexual name we get a kid friendly romp with, as the tagline says, “real spies… only furrier.”

The story involves Kitty Galore (voice of Bette Midler), once a cat spy for M.E.O.W.S. now a villain with a plan to broadcast a sound via every cell phone, TV and radio on earth that will drive all the dogs in the world mad. Her “Call of the Wild” will “make the world her scratching post.” Between her and victory, however, is a group of dogs, cats and even birds working together to fight against their enemies—both foreign and domesticated. They vow to stop the spread of radical felineism.

Along with the appeal of the voice cast, which includes Nick Nolte, Neil Patrick Harris, Christina Applegate and the former Bond, Roger Moore, whose character’s name, Tab Lazenby, is a cheeky reminder of another former Bond portrayer, the big thing “Cats & Dogs” has going for it is cute appeal. Cute, that is if you find a cat wearing a bunny suit adorable. Or if sad puppy dog eyes are your thing. If not, maybe you should go see “Inception” again, but animal lovers, especially young ones, will find much to enjoy here.

The movie is a pleasant, if forgettable, mix of mild action for the kiddies, talking, performing animals—it really is amazing what a good trainer can do with a bottle of liquid meat, (yes, there is such a thing)—and some pop culture references for the adults. The “Silence of the Lambs” gags feel a bit tired, like something from a Jay Leno monologue, but there are some good puns and the odd quote worthy joke.

The downside, and it is an occasionally very steep downside, is the inclusion of several human characters.

My first nominee for a trip to the kennel is Jack McBrayer who plays an inept magician named Chuck. McBrayer is very funny on “30 Rock” as Kenneth the NBC page but with every film role he takes on is revealing his lack of range. Here he is only half a degree away from Kenneth, but without the charm he brings to his television work.

Next up for a visit from the dog catcher is Fred Armisen. He’s not terrible in the movie, but he’s not really good either. He just is. And that’s disappointing from a performer who has created so many memorable characters on “Saturday Night Live.”

“Cats & Dogs: The Revenge of Kitty Galore” is a rare breed, an action movie for tots that tosses a bone or two to the grown ups as well. 

CYRUS: 3 ½ STARS

Freud would have had a ball with Molly (Marisa Tomei) and Cyrus (Jonah Hill). Molly is what the Viennese Sexologist would have called an engulfing mother, a single mom with an extra strong connection to her son. Cyrus is, well, he’s Cyrus—an overweight twenty-one-year-old with an Oedipus complex and an attitude. Enter John, played by John C. Reilly, a single sad sack who falls for Molly and feels the wrath of Cyrus. As Freud said, “How bold one gets when one is sure of being loved.”

When we first meet John he’s been single for seven years and still pines for his ex wife (Catherine Keener) even though she is about to be remarried. At her insistence he goes to a party and following some of the most awkward attempts at picking up women ever put on screen he meets Molly, a pretty partygoer who is attracted to his awkwardness and honesty she begins a relationship with him. After a one night stand and the words nobody wants to hear—“My life is really complicated right now”—John follows her home and meets Cyrus, her man-child son. Cyrus pretends to be happy that John is around. “You deserve someone to love you in the way that I can’t love you,” he tells his mother, but secretly he is plotting to drive a wedge between the two.

“Cyrus” is a dark character study disguised as a comedy. Directed by Jay and Mark Duplass, a Coen-lite brother team best known for making no budget indies like “The Puffy Chair” that make the Dogme 95 films look like slick Michael Bay movies, it has a few chuckles sprinkled throughout, but don’t expect a John C. Reilly laughfest like “Stepbrothers.” “Cyrus” is about broken people, unhealthy relationships and how people act when they feel threatened. Like real life sometimes it’s funny, sometimes it’s sad, other times it’s awkward, but the brothers and actors ensure that whatever the tone of any given scene, and no matter how outrageous the situation, that it rings true.   

Tomei is the glue that holds the film together. As Molly, mother of Cyrus, girlfriend to John, she’s caught between two men she loves and must provide balance as their emotional war escalates. She’s warm and believable, but also vulnerable and unpredictable. It’s another great performance from an actor who should be a bigger star than she is.

Reilly finds a balance between the character work he does for Paul Thomas Anderson in movies like “Magnolia” and the slapstick he’s been doing lately with Will Ferrell in “Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby.” It’s his most layered performance in some time and it is refreshing to see an average-guy leading man on the big screen.

Like Reilly, Jonah Hill adds dimension to Cyrus, taking a character who could have been played for laughs and adding some intensity and depth. Freud might have been speaking about him when he said, “One is very crazy when in love.”

“Cyrus” is an odd film. Not quite a comedy, not quite a drama it falls somewhere in between. Just like real life.

CLASH OF THE TITANS: 3 ½ STARS

“Clash of the Titans,” a remake of the much loved 1981 Ray Harryhausen stop motion epic, is part history lesson, part Saturday afternoon matinee popcorn flick. Avatar’s Sam Worthington stars as Perseus, the half human, half god made famous by Harry Hamlin in the original film.

In the film’s opening minutes Perseus is rescued from a watery grave by a weathered looking fisherman (Pete Postlethwaite) and his wife (who appears to be at least one hundred years younger than old Pete). Years later, a grown up Perseus (Worthington) witnesses the death of his adopted parents at the hands of Hades (Ralph Fiennes). They are the unfortunate collateral damage of a war between the gods and the aggressive Argos, a warring culture determined to starve the gods of human prayers and thereby diminish their power. Temples are burned, statues toppled in the beginning of their heretical era of “man.” Hades makes a deal with the Argos—if they sacrifice their princess he’ll call off the attack of the dreaded Kraken, the most fearsome creature known to man or god, and save their civilization. Enter Perseus, who, as it turns out is a demigod and the only person alive capable of killing the Kraken and ending the tyranny of the gods. His odyssey is played out amid double crosses and much slow motion.      

Like the original the cheese factor is high. Bring Lipitor. There’s so much cheese on screen I could feel my cholesterol levels rising by the minute. From Zeus’s (Liam Neeson in the role originally played by Laurence Olivier) shiny Olympus disco suit to the bad jokes that litter the script it’s an unparalleled cheese fest. It’s also a lot of fun.

After a slow start the action picks up with a battle between some giant not-so-soft-shelled crabs and an exciting show-down between Medusa (complete with a hairdo of snapping snakes) and Worthington and company. The battles with the mythical creatures are a holdover from the original, but where Harryhausen used plaster and steel armatures to bring the creatures to herky jerky life this time around they’re made of binary code. It makes for a bigger spectacle, but are they better? Well, yes, in a way, but they are not as cool as Harryhausen’s handcrafted creations.

Either way the action sequences are a blast but aren’t aided by the murky 3D technology added in post production. In this post “Avatar” world convention Hollywood wisdom says that all action movies must be in 3D, but if this is what retrofitted 3D looks like, no thanks. Other than a bit of depth it doesn’t add anything to the film, except a few extra dollars to the price of the ticket.  

“Clash of the Titans” is good cheesy fun that pays homage to the original film.

CHLOE: 2 ½ STARS

Despite being a remake of a French film the new movie from Atom Egoyan bears all the earmarks of the director’s work. Continuing his career long examination of sexual taboos and miscommunication he’s made a movie that is part sexual Scheherazade, part Single White Female but is also his most straightforward movie in years.

Starring Amanda Seyfried as an escort hired by Catherine (Julianne Moore) to test her husband’s (Liam Neeson) fidelity, it’s a steamy thriller the director calls “an extreme examination of how to re-eroticize a marriage.” Add to that a layer of sexual obsession and you get a film that feels like a throwback to the erotic thrillers of a couple of decades ago.

Egoyan has crafted a feature that breathes the same air as Fatal Attraction and Basic Instinct; films made when the director was busy making his own subtly sexual films like Exotica. At the time Roger Ebert wrote, “There is a quality in all of his work that resists the superficial and facile. Even at the very start, he wasn't interested in simple storytelling.” Until now, Roger, until now.

There is no question that Egoyan is as gifted a filmmaker as we have working in this country, but Chloe, I’m afraid doesn’t denote a high-water mark in his filmography.

He does, however, bring much to the table.
      
The film is gorgeous to look at—from the beauty shots of Toronto, to the collective “wowness” of the cast. To match the rich visuals he’s brought his own sensibility to the story, and instead of simply remaking Nathalie, the French film Chloe is based on, he has populated the plot with strong female characters. And, as befits any erotic thriller there are twists and turns galore. Unfortunately most of them will be obvious to anyone who has ever read a Joe Eszterhas script and that is the film’s Achilles’ Heel.  

The movie’s closing moments play like a predictable b-movie, albeit a highbrow one, but a b-movie nonetheless.

Chloe marks the first time Egoyan has worked from a script that he didn’t write and despite its angels—nice performances and beautiful photography—it made me yearn for the auteur of the Exotica years who would have made an uncompromising movie with a more dramatic ending.

COP OUT: 2 ½ STARS

It is a generally accepted fact that the law of diminishing returns applies to movie sequels. The further away you get from the source the weaker the film. Now, of course “Cop Out,” the new buddy cop movie from Kevin Smith, isn’t a sequel. It only feels like one. One with the number 3 or 4 in the title. It is, more correctly stated, an homage to the buddy cop movies of the 1980s like “48 Hrs.” and “Lethal Weapon.” But it begs the question: When does a movie stop being an homage and start being simply a rehash?

Bruce Willis and Tracy Morgan play Jimmy and Paul, veteran NYPD cops. They are the typical wildcard movie cops who cause as much carnage as they prevent. After a drug bust gone wrong they are both suspended for thirty days without pay. The without pay part is a tough pill to swallow for Jimmy, whose daughter is about to be married. To come up with $48,000 he needs to foot the bill for her ceremony he decides to sell his prized possession—a rare, mint condition baseball card. When it is stolen before he is able to sell it he and Paul begin their own investigation, which leads them to an obnoxious drugged out thief (Seann William Scott) and a violent drug lord named after a Louisiana sandwich, Poh Boy (Guillermo Díaz).

“Cop Out” is Kevin Smith's first studio film and marks the first time in fifteen years that indie overlords Harvey and Bob Weinstein haven’t been calling the shots. Not that it seems to have made much difference. Smith’s trademarked vulgar humor is firmly in place—although in smaller doses than usual and without the sweet edge that Judd Apatow brings to this type of comedy—so fans of bodily function jokes will not be disappointed. No, all the marks of classic Smith are here and the only real difference between “Cop Out” and Smith's low budget work is the addition of more crane shots, bigger stars and higher production value. The only thing missing is a cameo from Silent Bob… and the action and laughs you’d expect from this kind of comedy.

Smith, it must be said, isn’t an action director. His ham fisted way with the climatic shootout scenes (that’s not a spoiler, you HAD to know this would end up in a shootout) is clumsy and sucks the fun out of the film’s latter moments. Worse, it’s not nearly funny enough. Smith seems to find the characters much funnier than they actually are, allowing scene after scene to drag on past their breaking point.
There are some laughs, mostly courtesy of Morgan, who, although he is essentially playing his “30 Rock” character, brings an unhinged energy to every scene he’s in.

His unpredictability, however, is the only unpredictable thing about the movie. It rehashes (there’s that word again) every cliché from the buddy cop genre, including stereotyped bad guys who make Tony Montana look subdued.

According to answers.com the meaning of cop out is “a failure to fulfill a commitment or responsibility,” and I can’t help but think that the movie’s title squares with this definition. Kevin Smith may have been committed to the project, but he failed to fulfill the responsibility of making a good movie.   
THE CRAZIES: 2 ½ STARS

Welcome to Ogden Marsh, Iowa, population 1260, the friendliest place on earth. Friendliest place, that is, until a mysterious virus rips through town turning the quaint townsfolk into homicidal maniacs. A remake of George A. Romero’s 1973 movie of the same name, “The Crazies” is a classic tale of “us” versus “them”, with an extra “them” thrown in for good measure.  

The town is picture perfect, the kind of Norman Rockwell community where the first baseball game of the year is a big event that attracts everyone in town. The season opener, however, turns into a nightmare when Rory, a local farmer, wanders onto the field with a shotgun, a blank expression and bad intentions. Gunned down by town sheriff David Dutton (Timothy Olyphant) Rory is just the first victim of the upcoming hillbilly holocaust caused by a government biochemical weapon in the town’s water supply. Soon, after several strange murders and a block on all landlines, internet and cell phones in town Dutton uses his Holmesian powers of deduction to determine that “something’s really wrong.” Think of it as “28 Days Later” without the English accents.

“The Crazies” is a dark little movie, and I don’t just mean subject wise. It’s dark as though it was shot through a long sooty chimney. The murky darkness is meant to build atmosphere, and by and large it works. Director Breck Eisner creates tension, using darkness and shadows, only occasionally showing the gory stuff and even when the screen does go red, the chills are low-fi. Probably just as well, I don’t think we need close-ups of Ben, the former high school principal, now a thoroughly koo-koo bananas crazy killer repeatedly stabbing people with a pitchfork. Blood drips and there are lotsa squibs but this is more about tension and Romero’s original intention—setting up a comparison between the mania created by the virus and the martial law actions of the government when they try to contain the outbreak. It’s Dutton versus the crazies and the government versus everybody and that dynamic is the most interesting part of the movie.          

The horror doesn’t hold up particularly well. This is one of those “everyone we know is dead” movies. A story where the hero husband says to his wife, “You wait here and don’t go anywhere,” while proceeding to leave her vulnerable and open to attack. She, of course responds, “Stop pretending everything is going to be OK!” It’s the clichéd dialogue of every couples-in-peril movie and could use a facelift.

“The Crazies” isn’t as off-the-wall crazy as the title would suggest. It gets the tone right—the atmosphere and tension are well done—but could have used a script that expanded on the government’s role in the epidemic and went a little lighter on some of the clichés and added some depth to the theme of the collapse of social order.

CREATION: 2 ½ STARS

For clarity “Creation” should have been subtitled, The Origin of The Origin of Species. Paul Bettany plays Charles Darwin, the English naturalist who revolutionized science with his theory that all species of life descended from common ancestors. We meet him in the years leading up to the publication of his groundbreaking work on natural selection, a work condemned by the church, and, closer to home, by Emma, his religious wife (Jennifer Connolly), who feared his ideas would separate them forever in the afterlife.

Based on the book “Annie’s Box” by Darwin’s great, great grandson, Randal Keynes “Creation” wipes away the popular image of Darwin as an old, bewhiskered scientist, bringing him to somewhat vivid life—he was plagued by sickness for much of his adult life—telling the story of the troubled evolution of his theory of evolution.

“Creation” is handsomely photographed, beautifully acted by real-life husband and wife Bettany and Connolly, wonderfully appointed with 1850s period details and just a bit dull. The story should be quite fascinating—between the death of his beloved daughter, his inner demons, his sicknesses and his scientific trailblazing Darwin’s life is not short of drama—but director Jon Amiel has a hard time balancing Darwin’s personal and professional lives. They are, of course, almost inextricably intertwined, but Amiel let’s the film get away from him in the middle section, placing too much emphasis on Darwin's neuroses and not enough on the story.

Keeping things compelling, however, is Bettany who does impressive work, artfully and subtly portraying Darwin’s complicated inner life, drawing whatever emotion there is to be had out of this austere and slowly paced script.   

Connolly, on the other hand, is as cold as ice as Darwin’s fiercely pious wife Emma. The expected warmth between the real-life couple is largely absent as Connolly completely disappears into the role of the hardnosed wife who put her religious values before her husband’s scientific beliefs.     

Also worth noting is newcomer Martha West as daughter Annie, the common link who binds Charles and Emma together. Without fail her scenes bring the film warmth and familial energy.

“Creation” picks up in its final minutes, giving us a glimpse of the intelligent, exciting movie it could have been, but it’s too little to late.

CRAZY HEART: 3 STARS

In “Crazy Heart” Bad Blake, played by Jeff Bridges in what will likely become his fifth Oscar nomination, is Willie Nelson if the IRS had their way with him, or Kris Kristofferson if he hadn’t written “Me and Bobby McGee.” “I used to be somebody,” he sings at one point, “but now I’m somebody else.” That someone else is a broke, drunk country music has-been whose idea of a great gig is playing a bowling alley where he isn’t even allowed to run a bar tab.

In a story that echoes “The Wrestler” “Crazy Heart” follows the tail end of the career of a man who once had everything but threw it away. Bad Blake was a big country music star whose life seems ripped from the lyrics of a hurtin’ Hank Williams song. On the road he’s so lonely he could die, so he fills his time with groupies; women who follow him back to his seedy hotel room, remembering the star he once was and not the sweaty, drunk wreck he has become. His downward spiral is slowed when he meets Jean Craddock (Maggie Gyllenhaal), a journalist and single mother who becomes his anchor.  
“Crazy Heart” is an average movie buoyed by a great central performance. We’ve seen stories like this before but Bridges’s performance and the film’s details make this a recommend.

First the details. As a general rule most movies about fictional musicians get the most basic thing wrong—the music. Forgettable songs have ruined many a music movie but “Crazy Heart” and composers T-Bone Burnett and Stephen Bruton (who died of cancer before the film was released) nail an authentic country sound. The songs sound Grand Ole Opry ready and once filtered through Bridges’s weathered vocal chords could be echoes from any small town honky tonk or dive bar. It’s hurtin’ music and is spot on.

Beyond the music there are the small details that add so much to the film. There are the nice shards of dialogue like Bad’s flirty remark to Jean as they do an interview in a dingy motel room, “I want to talk about how bad you make this room look” and the accurate portrayal of small town bars and bowling alleys.

It all helps to elevate the predictable story, but none of it would matter a whit if Jeff Bridges wasn’t firmly in control. His Bad Blake is pure outlaw country, a hard drinking and cigarette smoking poet who breathes the same air as Waylon Jennings and Merle Haggart. Bridges throws his vanity out the window, allowing his gut to peak out from behind his guitar and wrinkles to peer out from the sides of his aviators. More than that, however, he nails the troubled charm that made Bad a star and then brought him to his knees. It’s complex work but Bridges, with his smooth, relaxed way with a character makes it look easy. Don’t be fooled; this is the work of a master who is often underrated.

“Crazy Heart” has some major flaws but is worth a look for the performances from Bridges, Gyllenhaal (although she seems a tad young for the part) and Colin Farrell in a small un-credited part as Bad’s former protégé.  

THE COLLECTOR: 1 STAR

The best thing about “The Collector” is that it is not a remake of the creepy Oscar nominated Terence Stamp movie of the same name. Instead two alum of the “Saw” franchise, Marcus Dunstan and Patrick Melton, have partnered up to make the kind of film you’d expect from the writers of “Saw IV,” “V” and “VI.” It’s a gory story about an ex-con turned day laborer (Josh Stewart) who, in an attempt to get some easy money to save his family, breaks into his employer’s house to steal a rare gem. Of course, also inside the house is a nasty surprise—a psychopathic “Collector” (Juan Fernandez) who sets a series of Rube Goldberg-esque booby traps to kill both the residing family and our burglar hero.

“The Collector’s” unholy mix of gorno and heist flick plays like a mash-up of “Saw” and “Home Alone” with extra gore and no jokes. In fact there isn’t much of anything here except for some stylish photography and an anxiety inducing soundtrack.   

There are, I guess, as many inventive ways to kill someone as there are people to kill, but the audience isn’t going to care about the ways and means if they don’t care about the characters, and that is “The Collectors” downfall. These characters are so cardboard the most humane thing to do with them would be to sort and recycle them.

Josh Stewart is trying hard here. He’s the kind of character that, if he didn’t have bad luck, as the song goes, wouldn’t have no luck at all. That’s about it for character development here, but in a movie where the characters are so thin, I’ll take it.

What I can’t accept, however, is the dull, repetitious plot. “The Collector,” however, does get a couple of things right—the soundtrack effectively creates a scary atmosphere, and it looks kinda cool—but it is marred by a silly ending that sets it up for a sequel.

It’s clearly being prepped to become the “Saw” of the next decade, a never ending franchise that has kept Dunstan and Melton busy for the last few years. The difference is “The Collector” is a pointless celebration of sadism, whereas the “Saw” movies, gory as they may be, at least have a twisted morality to them—the people in the traps are being punished for their sins. Let’s just hope “The Collector” doesn’t collect enough dollars at the box office to warrant a second installment.

COUPLES RETREAT: 1 STAR

The guys from “Swingers” have finally grown up. Thirteen years after their break out hit Vince Vaughn and Jon Favreau are teamed up again but this time around the zoot suits have been left in storage and the hipster lingo is a thing of the past. In “Couples Retreat” (sic) the boys are old hipsters with wives, kids, martial dysfunction and a group of friends teetering on the cusp of major mid life crisis. They’re no longer “money,” to use the “Swingers” lingo, but they’re in for some major change.

The story focuses on four couples Dave and Ronnie (Vince Vaughn and Malin Akerman), Shane and Trudy (Faizon Love and Kali Hawk), Jason and Cynthia (Jason Bateman and Kristen Bell), and Joey and Lucy (Jon Favreau and Kristin Davis) who go to an island resort called Eden West. This isn’t Sandals or Hedonism, however, couples at Eden West are expected to follow a rigorous relationship building course, that is equal parts Tai Chi, couples therapy and Art of War, taught by Marcel (Jean Reno). Participation is not optional, and of course, each of the couples learns something new about themselves and their bond.  

“Couples Retreat” annoyed me for many reasons. First off, when did it become OK for Hollywood to completely ignore the lowly apostrophe? The title should be “Couple’s Retreat,” but apparently no one at Universal (or Vaughn or Favreau) owns a copy of “The Elements of Style.” Punctuation, however, is just the beginning of the problems with "Couple Retreat."

The movie starts promisingly. The cast is likeable enough—Vaughn, Favreau, Jason Bateman, Faison Love, Malin Ackerman and the two Kristens, Davis and Bell—and the opening half-an-hour pleases in a low-fi way. As a set up to the main action—the trip to the Bora Bora—we’re treated to a mostly well written and interesting introduction to the characters. And Vaughn and Ackerman’s youngest son is hilarious.  As I say, it’s mostly good stuff that sets up the relationship comedy that is to follow, except that once they hit the island at 40ish minute mark the movie slows to a slow grind. A grating slow grind.   

What is it about comedies set on islands Remember “Club Paradise”? “Club Dread”? Sunshine and sky blue water seem to be comedy killers (except for “Gilligan’s Island” of course!). It’s certainly the case here. The post island scenes are only intermittently amusing, slowed by therapy scenes that don’t deliver big laughs and predictable relationship “development” that should be heartfelt but feels forced.

High points include Carlos Ponce as the randy yoga instructor Salvadore and the scenes with the kids that bookend the film. Low points include every minute the usually reliable Jean Reno is on screen and the beyond shameless product placement for Applebee’s and Guitar Hero.

“Couples Retreat” feels like a movie of missed opportunities. It’s not funny enough to be called a comedy and when the best relationship advice on offer is about finding the right person to take to Applebee’s, it can’t be called insightful either.

CAPITALISM: A LOVE STORY: 3 ½ STARS

The release of “Capitalism: A Love Story” will be met with the usual hoopla that surrounds all Michael Moore exposés. Fox News will challenge his facts and call him un-American for having the temerity to suggest that one of the threads of the good old red, white and blue, capitalism, is a flawed and outdated system. Fifty years ago Moore’s habit of sticking up for the little guy, the average American who’s just been foreclosed on or had their pension disappear, would have made him a Roy Rogers type folk hero. But in today’s climate where dissent is seen as disloyalty Moore is painted as a villain, a naysayer determined to undermine the very fabric of American life. Perhaps the name callers should actually try watching one of his films, or at least stay through to the end of “Capitalism,” where, after a look at how the America he loves is in tatters, he announces, “I refuse to live in a country like this… and I’m not leaving.” It’s his “I’m mad as hell and I’m not going to take it anymore” moment and a powerful end to an information packed, if somewhat rambling movie.

Moore doesn’t waste time getting to the point. He kicks things off with a mix of archival and recent footage that compares modern culture to the fall of the Roman Empire. From there he walks us through the beginnings of capitalism—which he describes as a system of giving and taking, mostly taking—through to the Regan years when, he says, it all started to go wrong. The story of capitalism unleashed continues through several more administrations until, for reasons far too complicated to detail here, the bottom falls out and we’re left with a system that instead of creating products for people to enjoy has been co-opted by banks who specialize in schemes that make money in ways that actually harm Main Street America. Along the way we meet the profiteers, companies who take insurance on their employees and benefit from their deaths—it’s called Dead Peasant insurance—and a poor family paid to clean out their own house; a house the bank had just repossessed.

Moore narrates the entire movie in his best Uncle Mikey voice, a calm reassuring tone with just a hint of outrage. It’s become his trademark, and even when he spews unsubstantiated “facts” like “Japanese and German cars hardly ever break down” he sounds convincing. It’s Fox News in reverse. Where they rely on raised voices and hyperbole to make their point Moore keeps the volume on low, but uses masterfully chosen images and music to drive home his outrage.

A sequence describing how Regan reduced taxes on the rich is scored with demonic “Omen” style chanting to reinforce the idea of the evil that was being perpetrated. Other sections are illustrated with a mix of archival and new imagery and, as always, Moore chooses provocative pictures to create emotion. Only the hardest hearted would be unmoved by the joy on a woman’s face as Obama is named president or the tears shed by someone who has just lost their home.  

Moore’s greatest skill is creating great propaganda. He can string together info and images like no one else. It’s not documentary filmmaking in the strictest sense, he’s too agenda minded to be a purest to the form, but he knows how to entertain while slamming home his point.

“Capitalism: A Love Story” feels a bit more unfocussed than his previous films, but the ideas contained within, that capitalism has been perverted into a system that enriches the few at the expense of the many, may make this his most important film to date.

COCO AVANT CHANEL: 3 ½ STARS

If Coco Chanel was a superhero, “Coco Avant Chanel” would be called her origin story. Here we learn about the how the superstar designer went from orphan to unhappily kept woman to finding her secret weapon—the little black dress. Of course she’d never wear something as gaudy as a logo on her chest, she exemplified understated class, but she was a wonder woman who created an empire in a business primarily run by men.

As the title suggests this is the story of Gabrielle “Coco” Chanel before the fame. When we first meet her she is being shunted off to an orphanage by an uncaring father. Raised in austerity she becomes a seamstress who moonlights as a nightclub singer. While working at the club she enters into a long affair with an older playboy aristocrat named Étienne Balsan (Benoît Poelvoorde). He provides for her and elevates her social status ever so slightly—mistresses were tolerated in turn-of-the-century French society, but not celebrated—but their relationship falls apart when she meets a young English businessman who would become the love of her life, Arthur ‘Boy’ Capel (Alessandro Nivola).

Like “X-Men Origins: Wolverine” or “Iron Man” this movie gives us the background we need to fully understand how she went from zero to hero except that the hero part is barely examined. We follow Chanel just up to the point at which she becomes a major fashion force. Director Anne Fontaine is more interested in the events that drove the designer to revolutionize the fashion industry rather than the revolution itself.

Audrey Tautou, the waifish French star of “Amélie” and “The DaVinci Code,” is an inspired choice to play the iron willed designer. She’s been criticized for looking dour throughout much of the film, but I prefer to see her look as one of steely determination as she navigates the turbulent waters of Chanel’s private life. The charismatic Tautou—who bears an uncanny resemblance to the designer—slowly develops the character, showing the struggle Chanel faced to enter society, to be accepted and have her work taken seriously. It’s nicely rounded performance that breathes life into a person who, despite placing on Time Magazine's 100 most influential people of the 20th century, is a mystery to the average viewer.
      
“Coco Avant Chanel” works both as a bio pic (which could easily be followed by a sequel detailing her life at the top of the fashion field) and a romantic melodrama. Anchored by a terrific performance from Tautou and luscious production design it’s an inspiring rags to riches tale.

CHERI: 1 ½ STARS

The world’s oldest profession has experienced an on screen revival of late. Steven Soderbergh’s film The Girlfriend Experience is a thoroughly modern look at the life of an escort while Cheri, the new film from Stephen Frears (of Dangerous Liaisons and The Queen fame) is a decidedly old fashioned take on the life of a lady of the night. Based on a 1920 novel by French author Colette it tells the story of the end of a six-year affair between a retired courtesan, Léa de Lonval (Michelle Pfeiffer), and an ostentatious young man, Fred ‘Chéri’ Peloux (Rupert Friend). When the relationship is over each must learn to go on with their lives. “Living with someone for six years is like following your husband to the colonies,” says Léa. “When you come back you’ve forgotten how to act and what to wear.”

The two films share a theme, the notion of what happens when people who sell themselves actually fall in love, but while Soderbergh’s take on the situation is up-to-the-minute with its references to Obama and the market meltdown Frears has taken a different path. His movie is not only set in the 1900s, but it feels like it was made in the 1900s; it feels old fashioned and staid.

The film is beautifully appointed—the sets, clothes and period details are bang on—but the acting style is stiff (with the exception of Kathy Bates, the only live wire in the cast), and the language a touch too courtly. For a movie about a courtesan it’s a bit too mannered.

The film has lots of problems. Firstly it breaks a cardinal rule of movie making: show me don’t tell me. A narrator (the voice of director Frears) pops up now and again to clumsily fill in the details sadly lacking in the film’s storytelling. When a narrator is needed to keep the momentum moving forward something is amiss.

Secondly affairs of the heart are unpredictable things, but Léa and Chéri are so self absorbed that their dangerous liaison never comes across as interesting. Their emotions are on the surface with no real depth. It was a repressed time but the film presents it and its characters as vapid rather than simply reserved.

If the story was more interesting those faults could be forgiven but the real killer here, the thing that drags the whole movie down is the casting of Rupert Friend as Chéri. There is love sick. There’s morose and then there is whatever Friend is trying to convey here. He turns Chéri into such a doleful wet rag it’s hard to imagine that anyone would want to spend a minute in the same room with him, let alone surrender their heart.
 
Pfeiffer fares better, wringing some emotion from the affected script and bringing sophistication to the character but is undone by an underwritten story.

Cheri is a minor work from a major filmmaker and talented cast.

CONFESSIONS OF A SHOPAHOLIC: 3 STARS

You have to wonder if a comedy about a young woman plagued by debt is really timely or seriously mistimed. With stories about debt and dollars leading almost every newscast these days it may be a risk to release a lighthearted movie about living beyond one’s means. Of course Confessions of a Shopaholic was shot last year before the bottom fell out of the economy, and in fact, re-shoots were done to change the end of the movie to reflect the current financial situation, but the question remains: Will audiences want to laugh with a movie about a compulsive shopper who seems pathologically unable to live on a budget?

Based on the popular Shopaholic novels by British author Sophie Kinsella, the movie centers on Rebecca Bloomwood (Wedding Crashers’ Isla Fisher) a 25 year old college grad who relocates to Manhattan to facilitate her shopping obsession—she gets an orgasmic look in her eye when she sees a sale sign and mannequins come to life to convince her to shop—and also break into New York competitive magazine market. With her credit cards being declined at Gucci, Prada—“They said I was a valued customer,” she weeps, “but now they send me hate mail.”—and other cathedrals of commerce she looks to find a way out of her debt by taking the most ironic of jobs—a financial advice columnist.

Confessions of a Shopaholic plays like a broad comedy, so broad in fact it makes Gilligan’s Island look like Molière. Isla Fisher is a gifted comic actress in the Lucille Ball vein and isn’t afraid to indulge in some good old fashioned slapstick or face pulling, but the tone of the movie is uneven. It zigzags between heartfelt and straight up goofy and those seismic shifts are enough to give the casual viewer whiplash.

The movie’s take on the economics of being a shopaholic are equally confusing. Of course Rebecca learns her lesson about debt and the dangers of being financially over extended, a timely message if there ever was one, but it’s all a bit too easy. In the beginning she’s a mini-Madoff, spending like a drunken sailor, but instead of landing in jail she lands a great job, a hunky boyfriend and an entree into the life she always dreamed about. It’s hardly a cautionary tale, although the film inadvertently provides a bit of a history lesson. Shot less than a year ago it talks of unparalleled growth in business. In this contemporary tale the economy is still good. What a difference a few months and a couple of bankrupt banks can make.

Not that any of this matters. I’m not the target market for Confessions of a Shopalholic. You’d think I’d have learned my lesson after reviewing Sex and the City and being told to “shut my damn manhole” (as one kind viewer suggested) but professional obligation obliges me to continue.

The movie will find an audience, but lacks the lifestyle porn—the money shots of the shoes, the apartments and clothes—that made Sex and the City repeat worthy. Only one scene drew the kind of “oohs” and “aws” from the audience I saw it with, which was 95% women, as opposed to 9 or 10 in SATC, but again that probably won’t matter because as the PMC (preferred movie companion) said after the film was over, “I liked it because it was so sparkly and pink.”

CORALINE: 4 STARS

In olden days fairy tales were not meant for children. Until The Brothers Grimm came along, and despite their ominous sounding name, cleaned up folkloric tales like Snow White and Sleeping Beauty by removing all the sex and most of the violence, fairy tales were best told after the kids went to bed. So it is with Coraline, a new animated movie based on the Hugo Award-winning book by Neil Gaiman. On the surface it looks like a kid’s movie with stop motion animation and a young central character, but make no mistake this is a PG13 movie filled with creepy images that could send the little ones straight from the theater to the psychiatrist’s couch.

Coraline’s (the voice of Dakota Fanning) journey into a strange and scary new world begins when her parents (Teri Hatcher and John Hodgman) rent an apartment in a peculiar house called The Pink Palace. Upstairs in the attic is circus performer Mr. Bobinski (Ian McShane) and his troupe of musical mice. Downstairs are a pair of retired actresses, Miss Forcible (Jennifer Saunders) and Miss Spink (Dawn French), who share their apartment ith a menagerie of Scottie dogs, some alive, some stuffed. Despite the colorful neighbors Coraline is bored. Her parents neglect her and the only other kid in the neighborhood is the weeby Wybie Lovat. Things get more interesting when she discovers a mysterious door hat leads to a mirror reality, an eccentric Alice Through the Looking Glass world, where er parents pay attention to her and life is interesting. It isn’t until things take a dark turn hat Coraline realizes she may never escape the eerie Other World and return home to her eal parents.

I’ll say it again, despite Coraline’s storyline about a young girl trying to find her way back to her parents and the animation, (it’s the first stop-motion animated feature to be originally filmed in 3D), this is not a movie for little kids. The New York Times called the novel “one of the most truly frightening books ever written” and while the movie tones down some of the scares for the big screen, it is still a chilling ride.

Visually it’s a cross between Pee Wee’s Playhouse and the gonzo caricatures of Ralph Steadman. Director Henry Selick, the brains behind James and the Giant Peach and The Nightmare Before Christmas, has created two unique worlds: Coraline’s mundane day-to-day world and the heightened existence she has behind the mysterious door. Both are flights of fancy, from a garden that recreates Coraline’s face to the marching mouse band. Rendered with great imagination and beauty by Selick and his team the film is pure cinematic eye candy.

Luckily the story equals the surreal imagery. Coraline’s journey to the dark mirror image of her life is effectively scary not because it offers a thrill a minute but because it plays on primal fears, the dread of being abandoned, the unknown and claustrophobia. These basic feelings form the backbone of the story and the inventive visuals and nice voice work from Dakota Fanning and the supporting cast do the rest.

Coraline is the rare animated film that succeeds both as mainstream entertainment and art.

THE CURIOUS CASE OF BENJAMIN BUTTON: 3 ½ STARS

I once saw a bumper sticker on a car in an old folk’s home parking lot that read “Growing old isn’t for sissies.” The sentiment is too true—just ask my stiff back and aching knees—but a new film The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, based on a 1922 F. Scott Fitzgerald short story, may have the solution to the woes of old age. In the movie Brad Pitt plays the title character, an unusual man who was born old—“He shows all the infirmities of an 80 year old man,” says the attending physician—and grows younger as the years pass. By the time he’s in his fifties, when the rest of us are starting to feel the effects of old age, he’s as spy as a teenager. His biggest problem? Acne…

“I was born under unusual circumstances,” says Benjamin Button.  His strange story begins on his birthday on the last day of World War I. When his birth mother dies in childbirth his father, unable to deal with his grief, leaves the baby, who looks more like a tiny eighty-year-old man than a newborn, on the steps of a New Orleans retirement home. “You are as ugly as an old pot,” says Queenie (Taraji P. Henson), the woman who would raise him as her own. Benjamin is unique, a man who is aging in reverse. As he grows up his wrinkles fade, his cataracts clear and his bones stop aching. The question is: How can he lead a normal life—marry, be a father, hold a job—when he will one day devolve into a child?

By all accounts The Curious Case of Benjamin Button has much in common with another movie about a special young man who had an epic life—Forrest Gump. From the storyline—IMDB says it “is a grand tale of a not-so-ordinary man and the people and places he discovers along the way, the loves he finds, the joys of life and the sadness of death…”—which echoes the Tom Hanks movie, to the high tech wizardry crucial to the visual look of the movie, to the way Pitt says “Mama” in his New Orleans accent, to the movie’s catchphrase, “You never know what’s coming for you,” Benjamin Button breathes the same air as Forrest Gump. Fortunately the cloying sentimentality of Gump has been left behind.

Button will tug at your heart strings—it is, after all, a big Christmas movie—but director David Fincher has avoided most of the sentimental landmines common to movies of this type and allows the story, the characters and the situations to speak for themselves.

At the center of it all is Pitt. Could it be that Brad Pitt is turning into a very interesting actor? In Benjamin Button he appears to do very little. His performance is all reaction. As the old looking teenager he constantly looks as if he is drinking in his surroundings; figuring out his place in the world. As he mentally grows, but grows younger looking he gets more physically vital, but never loses his sense of wonder.

It’s a deceptively simple performance—doing little is a difficult choice for an actor—that shows another side of Pitt. We’ve seen serious Pitt, sexy Pitt, buff Pitt, even goofy Pitt—his take on Burn After Reading’s dim-witted personal trainer was one of that movie’s main pleasures—but now we see something else; understated Pitt.

Perhaps, like Johnny Depp, Pitt is straying from parts that simply showcase his good looks and choosing consistently interesting movies that demonstrate his talent. Now, if he could find a director and partner to nurture him—like Depp and Tim Burton—sparks might really fly every time out.

The Curious Case of Benjamin Button is a movie that could easily have been overshadowed by the state-of-the-art CGI used to strip the years off of Pitt and Blanchett but is saved from becoming an exercise in computer manipulation by nice understated performances that balance out the high tech trickery.

CHANGELING: 3 ½ STARS

The bones for the story of Changeling, the twenty-eighth film from director Clint Eastwood, are borrowed from the infamous Wineville Chicken Coop Murders, a kidnapping and murder case from late 1920s Los Angeles. The sensational child murder case made headlines around the world, shining a spotlight on police corruption by the LAPD and making a media star of Canadian-born serial killer Gordon Stewart Northcott. Eastwood personalizes the story by focusing on the mother of one of the victims, Christine Collins (a goth looking Angelina Jolie).

Changeling’s twisted tale picks up steam when single mom Collins comes home after working some overtime hours to an empty house. Her ten-year-old son Walter is gone without a trace; the front door is locked, his lunch is still in the ice box and his bed undisturbed.

Cut to five months later. The LAPD gives Collins the happy news that they have located her son and that he is alive and well. Trouble is the boy they bring home is not her son. When she protests the police, concerned for the bad press her story would generate, try and convince then coerce her to accept the boy. When she refuses they have her committed to a mental hospital that makes Shock Corridor look like a hotel spa. Luckily she has anti-police corruption crusader Rev. Gustav Briegleb (John Malkovich) on her side. With his help Collins exposes the LAPD cover-up and corruption and tries to get to the bottom of what actually happened to her son.

At two hours and twenty minutes Changeling takes its time to tell the story, expertly weaving the disparate elements—the disappearance, the police corruption and the unexpected serial killer angle—into one seamless, elegantly directed movie. It’s a complex story but one that is carefully laid it out, and while it would likely have been possible to trim a few of the “I want my son back!!” scenes, by and large there isn’t any fat here. 

Eastwood sets the tone in the film’s opening seconds by draining the picture of any bright colors. This bleak palate—at odds with sunny California’s sparkling reputation—establishes the somber feel that permeates every scene.

Angelina Jolie’s resemblance to Tim Burton’s Corpse Bride embodies that gloomy feel; her face a sallow shell of the usually beautiful woman caught by paparazzi in the pages of Us Weekly. She’s in almost every scene of the film, delivering strong work as a mother who refuses to give up hope, but for every powerful Oscar bait moment there is another where she veers toward melodrama, relying a bit too heavily on the silent movie five poses of female subjugation technique. The delicate hand clutching at her mouth in despair is effective once, but on repeated use loses impact. It’s a performance that ranges from moving to shrill, but, nonetheless, will likely be nominated come Academy Award time. 

Of the other above–the-title cast members Amy Ryan hands in solid work in her small role as a wrongly imprisoned prostitute and John Malkovich is showy, but just a bit too creepy as the fiery Rev. Briegleb. Of the new comers Eddie Alderson does stand-out work as a teen wracked with guilt while regular Law and Order guest star Jeffrey Donovan is suitably evil as Capt. J.J. Jones, the scheming and manipulative policeman.

Changeling often succeeds more as a portrait of a time and place—the recreation of 1920s Los Angeles is breathtaking, and the misogynistic attitude toward women makes the males on Mad Men seem enlightened—rather than a true-life crime drama, but despite its tendency toward melodrama Eastwood has created the first big movie of Oscar season.

CITY OF EMBER: 3 STARS

City of Ember, based on the 2003 book by Jeanne DuPrau, is the newest example of a brand new genre: post-apocalyptic kid’s flicks. Following hot on the heels of WALL-E, the Pixar cartoon about a robot in charge of cleaning up a deserted, dead Earth, City of Ember is another dark vision of an underground world solely reliant on one failing energy source (sound familiar?) that plays like a cross between a subterranean Nancy Drew’s Passport to Danger and Blade Runner.

At the beginning of the film, once again humans have destroyed Earth. In order to save mankind a group of forward thinking scientists—known as “the builders”— create a self-sufficient underground world, with the ultimate plan that after 200 years people would return to the surface and start again. Of course over time their plans get lost, only to be discovered, decaying and damaged, by twelve-year-old Lina Mayfleet (Saoirse Ronan), the great-great-great grand daughter of the seventh Mayor of Ember. With the help of Doon Harrow (Harry Treadaway) she must escape the clutches of the corrupt Mayor (Bill Murray) and find a way to the surface before Ember is plunged into darkness forever.

Think of City of Ember as Terry Gilliam lite. It breathes the same air as Brazil, his post-apocalypse masterpiece, but has had many of the rougher edges smoothed out to appeal to a teen audience. It features Disney-esque mild action, strong female role-models and engaging performances, particularly from Murray as the crooked Mayor and Atonement’s Saoirse Ronan, who is a natural in front of the camera. Best of all, the crumbling together city is beautifully rendered as a nightmarish vision of the future, complete with tilting tenement buildings, a giant gold generator that looks borrowed from the movie Metropolis and lots of futuristic grime and rust.

City of Ember drags a bit in its final moments, not really building the head of steam necessary to give the climax the edge-of-your-seat feel it should have, but it ends on a poetic note and should please the whole family from teenagers on up.           

CHOKE: 2 ½ STARS

At their best movies can transport the viewer to new worlds populated by different and interesting characters. A truly successful movie is an immersive experience that envelopes the onlooker for ninety minutes or so. Choke is successful in the sense that it creates a new world that not many viewers will be familiar with, I’m just not too sure how many theatre goers will want to visit the twisted universe of Victor Mancini, a sex addicted med school drop-out and self described evil schemer who fakes choking to death in restaurants. 

Mancini (Sam Rockwell) is a sex addict, con man and colonial theme park historical re-enactor trying to support his Alzheimer's-afflicted mother’s (Angelica Huston) treatment in a constant care facility.

She’s the very definition of a bad mother, but he desperately wants to keep her from moving to the dreaded “second floor” of the nursing home. To raise money for her care he fakes choking in fashionable restaurants and then bilks the people who come to his rescue out of money. When he’s not conning people or trolling sex addicts anonymous meetings for willing sex partners he’s at the nursing home trying to put the moves on his mom’s pretty attending physician Paige Marshall (Kelly Macdonald). When Marshall uncovers a secret about his past he must get the real story form his mother before it’s too late. 

Mancini is played to greasy perfection by Sam Rockwell, an actor of considerable talent who brings just the right amount of self-loathing to balance off the character’s tongue-in-cheek comedy. He’s able to turn from the dramatic to comedic on a dime, providing an anchor for the movie’s offbeat sensibility and tone. We have to believe that this self centered lounge lizard has the capability to scrape away the filth of his everyday life and realize that his life will never improve until he is able to love someone other than himself. For the most part Rockwell convinces us that Victor isn’t simply a dysfunctional horndog but the revelation comes long after the audience has stopped caring about his redemption.

Choke is based on a book by Fight Club writer Chuck Palahniuk and features his usual marginalized lead character and self-destructive aggressiveness, but where the book was able to use literary devices to explain Victor’s compulsive behavior and abandonment issues the film relies on tiresome flashbacks that wear out their welcome early on. On the plus side it does maintain Palahniuk’s deliciously dark sense of humor and by the end reveal a bit of unexpected heart.

Choke will likely disappoint Palahniuk fans who might expect the intense fist-in-your-face power of Fight Club, but they can rest assured that the author’s deviant storytelling has been left pretty much intact, topped off with a great performance from Sam Rockwell. He’s an actor who deserves to be better known and while I doubt Choke will do much to increase his profile, his performance is outstanding.

THE COUNTERFEITERS DVD: 4 STARS

The 2007 Academy Award®-winner for Best Foreign Language Film, The Counterfeiters is the true story of Salomon Sorowitsch (Karl Markovics), a shady character known in Berlin’s underworld as “King of the Counterfeiters.” His criminal career comes to an abrupt halt when he is arrested and sent to a Nazi concentration camp.

The German army is on the brink of bankruptcy so Sorowitsch, desperate to survive, makes a deal with the devil. He’ll use his expertise to make counterfeit money which will fund the Nazi war effort and in exchange he and a handpicked group of specialists will receive decent food, a comfortable place to sleep and fair treatment. Beginning in 1942 and continuing until 1945, Operation Bernhard becomes the largest counterfeiting undertaking in history, succeeding in forging over £130 million before the end of the war, but despite his criminal nature the moral quandary of a Jewish man helping the Nazis hangs heavy on his conscience.

Written and directed by Stefan Ruzowitsky, and based on the book The Devil’s Workshop by Adolf Burger The Counterfeiters is a study of the human will to survive disguised as a war-time thriller. Ruzowitsky carefully reconstructs the horrors of the concentration camp, effectively creating an atmosphere of fear and dread but keeps story focused on Sorowitsch and the consequences of his awful choice. It is thought provoking material that examines the moral choices and life-and-death decisions made in the face of adversity.

THE CHILDREN OF HUANG SHI: 1 ½ STARS

I would guess that Roger Spottiswoode is one of those directors-for-hire who, on the first read through of a script, is able to determine exactly how much each scene will cost,; is adept at squeezing money out of a stone and completely understands the mysterious world of international co-productions.

That’s why his films often have interesting locations—Shake Hands with the Devil was shot in Uganda, The Children of Huang Shi in China—are nicely shot and have production value that far out paces their actual budgets.

The capital “I” important stories in his films—he tends to be drawn toward serious topics like genocide and war—are generally undone not by the virtues of his technical production, but by his seeming inability to direct actors or breathe life into stilted stories. He understands how to block a scene, how to shoot it and what lens to use, so it all looks nice, but he relies too heavily on cinema clichés to manipulate the audience into caring about the mannequins on screen.

The Children of Huang Shi is a compelling true story about a brazen British journalist (Jonathan Rhys Meyers) who with the help of an Australian nurse (Radha Mitchell), saves a group of orphaned children during the Japanese occupation of China in 1937. A story that could have had Schindler List possibilities though, is rendered ineffective by his inability to effectively guide his actors through the emotional highpoints of the story. Instead each scene is broken down into a series of cookie-cutter cinema clichés.

Even worse than the predictable and tired storytelling is the inappropriate use of lame humor—“This is my favourite part,” says Chen Hansheng (Chow Yun Fat) as he blows up a building just minutes after a gruesome massacre.

The Children of Hunag Shi could have been an interesting look at an important and rarely told story from our recent past, but despite some gorgeous photography, falls far short of captivating.

THE CHRONICLES OF NARNIA: PRINCE CASPIAN: 2 ½ STARS

The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe had the most ungainly title of 2005 but that didn’t stop audiences from shelling out upwards of 700 million dollars to see the story of four children who travel through a wardrobe to a magical land where animals talk and an evil ice queen has taken power. In the inevitable sequel (expect lots of Narnia in your future—there’s seven books of source material) the same kids are catapulted back to the wondrous world of Narnia.

This time around, however, the world isn’t so wondrous. In the one year they lived in the human world, 1300 years passed in Narnia and the once lush place is now ravaged by war. The four kids—teenagers in England, Kings and Queens in Narnia—are summoned by the deposed true king of Narnia, Prince Caspian. Together they form an uneasy alliance to defeat the evil Telmarines, protect Narnia and place Caspian on throne, where he belongs.

Despite the lion king Aslan’s sage words, “things are never the same way twice,” The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian follows the template set by the first movie, for better and for worse.

On the plus side, like The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, Prince Caspian is a classic tale of good verses evil.  This time around though, the story is lumbering and takes far too long to get in gear. Aslan is largely absent—the subtitle Waiting for Aslan wouldn’t be too far off the mark—and while there are some whiz bang action sequences sprinkled throughout, the long connecting passages drag. When Trumpkin (Peter Dinklage) asks young Lucy (Georgie Henley) where she’s been for the last 1300 years, she says, “It’s a long story…”

It’s hard to disagree with her as the movie chugs past the two hour mark, with wooden performances making it seem even longer. As in the first movie director Andrew Adamson, who previously helmed the Shrek movies, is more at home with the animated characters than the flesh and blood actors. New additons, including a mouse whose personality seems cribbed from the Puss In Boots character in Shrek 2, add some dashes of humor, but overall the tone is much darker than the original.

This installment doesn’t skimp on the violence—a massive slaughter of Narnians trapped in a castle may be a tad too intense for a movie featuring cuddly, talking animals—but, like The Forbidden Kingdom, another recent family friendly action film, the brutality is bloodless. There’s loads of gouging, stabbing and general mayhem, but not one ounce of blood squirts or dribbles from any of the wounds. It takes some of the edge off the violence, and, I guess, smoothes out some of the viciousness, but make no mistake, this is a violent movie with as high a body count as any of the Lord of the Rings movies.

The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian presents interesting ideas about loss of innocence, courage and chivalry but those messages are overshadowed by a movie that is overlong and relies too heavily on action scenes. 

CLOVERFIELD: 3 ½ STARS

Film trailers are the single most important tool in the movie marketing business. Over the years the creation of movie trailers has been honed to a fine art and the right assortment of music, images and star power can be a powerful promotional tool. Cloverfield, a new monster movie from Lost producer JJ Abrams turned convention on its head recently with a teaser trailer that didn’t feature big stars or music, just one striking image.

There’s a party. Outside you hear a loud thump. Lights flicker and everyone rushes outside just I time for the head of The Statue of Liberty, torn from its body, to skid to a halt in from to them. Fade to black. No music, no title, nothing except a mind-bender of an image that knocked you back in your seat.

Not since The Blair Witch Project has a trailer stirred up so much anticipation. The only question that remains is: Can the movie top the trailer? Happily the answer is yes, but with reservations.

Cloverfield—the name is the US government code for the “incident” in which a mysterious creature destroyed NYC—is a curious mix of the production value of America’s Funniest Home Videos, (but without the crotch shots) and Godzilla. A movie shot entirely through the lens of a home video camera, complete with bad shot composition and shaky hand held cinematography.

If frenetic camera work is not your cup of tea then Cloverfield will not be for you. The occasionally nausea inducing visuals make the former jiggly-camera record holder, The Blair Witch Project look like it was shot by Ansel Adams on a steadi-cam. Having said that, for those willing to go along for the ride the intensity and immediacy of the images will leave you breathless.

As something—I’m not telling you what, not knowing in advance is part of the fun of the movie—lays waste to the Big Apple many of the scenes echo the well-known news footage of 9/11. Massive white clouds of dust billow out of buildings while sheets of paper eerily float to the ground, expelled from the skeletons of giant skyscrapers. These familiar images coupled with the immediacy of the home video footage give the film a realistic and horrifying feel.

Cloverfield takes elements from horror films as diverse as The Blair Witch Project, The Host and Godzilla and, in an economical 75 minutes, binds them together to create something new, fresh and really powerful. 

CHARLOTTE’S WEB DVD: 2 ½ STARS

Some things are better left alone. I recently read that the Jack Kerouac classic On the Road is being turned into a movie. I can’t imagine that this is a good idea as the filmmakers could never possibly translate this book, which is revered by generations of people, into a film that would be better than the book. Another, more tangible example is out on DVD this week. Charlotte’s Web is a beloved children’s book about Wilbur a little runt pig who is concerned that he is going to end up as dinner unless he takes action. With the help of a quick-witted spider named Charlotte he hatches a plan to avoid turning into Sunday dinner.

This big budget adaptation features an all-star voice cast, including Julia Roberts as the know-it-all spider and Robert Redford, Oprah Winfrey, Cedric the Entertainer, John Cleese, Reba McEntire and Kathy Bates with Dakota Fanning heading up the live action cast.

There’s an old saying, “You can’t put lipstick on a pig,” which seems appropriate here. Charlotte’s Web isn’t as charming as that other talking pig movie Babe, or the book for that matter, but it is sweet and maybe will encourage a few kids to turn off the TV and pick up the book.

CATCH AND RELEASE: 2 ½ STARS

On the television show Alias Jennifer Garner played a woman with a double life—average citizen by day, sexy super-spy by night. In her new film, Catch and Release, she plays it straight, it’s her dead fiancée who led two lives.

Catch and Release is an odd kind of romantic comedy that isn’t exactly a comedy or very romantic for that matter. There are a few laughs—mostly provided by Clerks director Kevin Smith, seen here slumming in the chubby roommate role—mixed throughout the movie in between the suicide attempts, illegitimate babies, crying jags and clandestine sex. Any movie that begins at a funeral reception on what was supposed to be a wedding day isn’t destined to be a barrel of monkeys, but that’s just what makes Catch and Release so confounding.       

It can’t quite make up its mind what it wants to be. Is it a comedy? Not exactly. Is it a romance? Kind of. Is it a change of life story involving old friends? Sorta. It all this and, I suspect more. The original cut of the film by director Susannah Grant was an epic three hours in length. Thankfully she has cut it down by an hour, but in doing so she may have lost some clarity in the storyline.

On the plus the movie features some very winning performances. The incredibly square-jawed Jennifer Garner is hard not to like, even when grief pushes her to make some questionable life choices.

Opposite her is Timothy Olyphant, best known as the foul mouthed Seth on Deadwood, this time put he has cleaned up the language and puts on his sensitive guy hat. He’s kind of an unconventional choice for this sort of role and the casting against type works well here.

Juliette Lewis pops up in a supporting role, playing one of her patented flaky, trashy characters. It’s part Mallory from Natural Born Killers, part Jesse the Bounty Hunter from My Name is Earl, but she adds some spark to the proceedings. 

Catch and Release isn’t a very good date movie, but it may have some appeal to people who like their romance with a bit of an edge.

CHILDREN OF MEN: 4 ½ STARS

Last year there was a lot of talk that Clive Owen would be the next James Bond. At the time I thought he would be a perfect choice for the role. In retrospect I’m glad he didn’t get the part because A) Daniel Craig is terrific and B) if he had been playing Bond he likely wouldn’t have had the chance to make Children of Men.

Based upon the novel of the same name by British author PD James, Children of Men is set in England in the not so distant future. A television ad trumpets that the world has collapsed and social terror is the norm but “only Britain soldiers on.” Women have lost the ability to have babies, terrorism and civil war wracks most of the planet, and the youngest person in the world has just been killed in a bar fight.

Clive Owen plays Theo, an alcoholic who spikes his morning coffee with scotch on the way to his bleak, low-level bureaucratic job. He reluctantly becomes involved with a radical group run by his former girlfriend who recruits him to courier the world’s only pregnant woman to safety.

With this film director Alfonso Cuarón (best known as the filmmaker behind the art house hit Y tu mamá también and the mega smash Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban) proves that he is one of the best directors working today. The movie takes off like a rocket from its opening moments, shot in long takes that resemble a documentary. His sense of pacing, accentuated by many unexpected thrills is flawless.

Add to that a steely performance from Owen, terrific turns by Julianne Moore, Michael Caine, Chiwetel Ejiofor and Peter Mullan as a psycho detention camp guard and you have the best movie of the year.

Children of Men was the best Christmas present I got this year.

CHARLIE BARTLETT: 3 STARS

Charlie Bartlett could be the younger brother of Ferris Bueller, the kid from Rushmore or even Hard Harry from Pump Up the Volume. He’s a child of privilege who uses his charm and smarts to get what he wants.

If Ferris made you laugh, you’ll likely enjoy Charlie. If, however, you thought Ferris was simply an annoying snot nosed rich kid you may want to go see Vantage Point instead this weekend because Charlie Bartlett, though appealing, owes a mighty debt to Ferris (and at least a passing nod to Harold and Maude).

Wealthy teenager Charlie Bartlett’s (Anton Yelchin) habit of coming up with outlandish schemes to win the approval of his peers has gotten him kicked out of more private schools than Carter has little liver pills. He’s a troubled kid—“My family has a psychiatrist on call… how normal can I be?” he says—who gets a charge out of doing things that will land him in hot water.

Since no private school will have him he must go to a regular public school run by the Principal Gardner (Robert Downey Jr.) a man so world-weary he makes Andy Warhol look like Richard Simmons.

Still desperate for acceptance he comes up with one more ploy to endear himself to his classmates—like Lucy in the Peanuts—he becomes the school shrink, providing comfort and counsel and even the occasional mood altering drug cocktail. “Bringing psychiatric drugs and teenagers together is like opening a lemonade stand in the desert,” he says of his thriving pharmaceutical business. 

When he is done helping his classmates find themselves, however, his life changes when he learns the hard way about the responsibility that comes along with great popularity.

Charlie Bartlett is probably the sweetest movie ever made about a drug dealer. As the titular character Anton Yelchin, best known for juvenile roles on Huff and Curb Your Enthusiasm, injects likeability to a character that in lesser hands could have been quite intolerable. He’s totally believable as the troubled but charming teenager, and his strong presence saves several of the movie’s more precious moments; ditto for Kat Dennings as the young rebel’s girlfriend and Toronto actor Mark Rendall as a terminally depressed Marilyn Manson fan.  

If not for this talented cast Charlie Bartlett may have seemed a bit too clever for its own good, a Ferris Bueller on steroids. Luckily the chemistry of the young cast coupled with strong performances from Hope Davis as Charlie’s delicate mom and Downey Jr as the beaten down school master, who is neither master of his school or domain, elevates the film from simply being an 80s teen movie homage to something far more poignant and interesting.

CASINO ROYALE: 4 STARS

The much anticipated rebooting of the James Bond franchise is finally in theatres after months of controversy. The unceremonious canning of Pierce Brosnan, who had played the role for the better part of a decade, and the hiring of Daniel Craig, a blonde largely unknown actor, generated hate amongst Bond die-hards. Websites like craignotbond.com—and others with names I can’t repeat here—sprung up all over the net and it seemed like the barrage of bad pre-release publicity might sink the new movie before it even opened in theatres. The Craig-bashing is likely to cease, not only because it is unwarranted, but also because after seeing the movie nay-sayers may fear for their safety.

Craig is an inspired choice to reinvent Bond for a new generation. He’s a good actor—check out his turns in Enduring Love and The Mother—and he’s good looking, but in a more dangerous way than Brosnan or Roger Moore, the slickest of the Bonds. Craig has the looks of a leading man, but is lean and mean, and seems like he could punch you in the mouth and not think too much of it. Not since Sean Connery has a Bond been so volatile.  

Craig takes the formerly bloated Bond franchise in a new direction. Gone are the high tech gadgets, the lasers and the pens that contain nuclear bombs. This Bond, built like a muscular British bulldog dispatched bad guys the old-fashioned way—with his hands. In one scene when he is asked how one of his victims died he replies with a wink, “Not well.” 

The story, based on the first Bond novel by Ian Flemming, is typical Bond. A series of missions in far-flung corners of the world leads Bond to a high-stakes poker game hosted by an international banker who launders money for terrorists. Bond’s goal is to bankrupt the banker at the poker table so the Secret Service can use financial leverage to get the banker to turn on his terrorist contacts. Along the way there are beautiful girls, exotic locations, a great bad guy who cries blood tears and lots of over-the-top action.
Casino Royale isn’t your father’s Bond. It may, however, be a little closer to your grandfather’s. Sean Connery officially hung up his Bond tuxedo in 1971 (we won’t count Never Say Never Again, the 1983 non-starter) and since then the franchise has drifted, becoming a cartoony, pun spewing vision of the Cold War spy. Craig (with the help of a script by {Paul Haggis) brings the franchise back to its roots. His Bond is a vicious anti-hero who happens to be on the side of right. He is at once the most contemporary of heroes and one of the most old-fashioned. He’s savvy enough to understand the intricacies of the international espionage but primitive enough to use force when necessary.

CATCH A FIRE: 3 ½ STARS

Tim Robbins has a reputation as being one of the most politically aware actors in Hollywood, so it is no surprise that he would team up with Phillip Noyce, an Australian director known for making bug budget action movies like Clear and Present Danger and Patriot Games, but of late, has concentrated on smaller more socially aware films.

Set in 1980, Catch a Fire tells the real life story of Patrick Chamusso, (Derek Luke), an apolitical oil refinery foreman at the Secunda oil refinery in rural South Africa who turns to radical politics after being imprisoned and tortured for a plant bombing he did not commit.

Robbins plays Security Branch Colonel Nic Vos, head of a government anti-terrorist task force who isn’t afraid to use force to coerce a confession from his prisoners. Chamusso’s wrongful arrest and subsequent torture pushes him to retaliate, join the outlawed ANC and commit an act of sabotage that lands him in the brutal Robben Island prison for a decade. 

Catch a Fire succeeds because of the complexity of the two leads. Derek Luke is winning as Chamusso, who like the hero of Hotel Rwanda, another recent film set in Africa, morphs into a rebel after seeing first hand the misuse of power. When we first meet the straight-as-an-arrow Chamusso he’s a simple family man who wants to maintain the status quo. He wants to have a good job, to buy his wife nice things, raise his kids and stay out of trouble, but those wants are stripped away when Vos enters his life. Luke gets under Chamusso’s skin, believably showing how a man can change when pushed to the limit.

Robbins rides a fine line between playing Vos as a monster, someone who tortures people and breaks the rules in the name of law and order, and an ordinary foot soldier in what he perceived was a civil war. He humanizes Vos, allowing the viewer to look beyond the surface and see him for what he is, a flawed patriot. 

Working from a strong script by Shawn Slovo, daughter of Joe Slovo who ran the military wing of the ANC, and aided by a marvelous soundtrack of South African freedom songs, Phillip Noyce has delivered a movie that takes advantage of his experience making big budget thrillers, but never lets the action overwhelm the film’s core message of fighting against oppression. 

CRANK: 3 STARS

The experience of watching Crank is like watching any action movie on DVD… on fast forward. This movie zips along at such a clip that it should be subtitled, “A Presentation of Short Attention Span Productions.”

Jason Stathan plays a hit man who has been injected with a drug that will kill him within an hour if his heart rate dips below a certain point. Too stubborn to die, he drinks Red Bull by the gallon and uses adrenaline to keep him self alive, while he does what anyone who just has one hour live would do—get revenge on the guy who injected him with poison.

It’s a wild ride with more action than any other three movies this summer. It movies so quickly that if you don’t like a certain stunt, stick around for about thirty seconds because there will be three more you might like better. Crank mixes Statham’s considerable skuzzy charm with outrageous action, great visuals, lots of dark humor and a winning performance from Amy Smart as the hit man’s stoner girlfriend.

CLICK: 3 STARS

It’s every coach potatoes dream—a universal remote that not only works the television and x-box but also can control real life. Don’t want to have an argument with your spouse? Just fast-forward through it. Are your neighbors being too noisy? That’s what the mute button is for.

In the new movie Click Adam Sandler plays an overworked architect with a demanding boss whose job leaves him no time for his wife and two cute kids. When he buys a magical remote from an eccentric clerk in the Beyond section of Bed, Bath and Beyond he soon learns that he essentially can turn his life into the equivalent of a director’s cut DVD. He can pause the action, fast forward through the bad bits and there’s even a commentary track by James Earl Jones. It’s a universal remote that controls his universe. When the remote starts making choices for him he loses not only control, but his whole life. Instead of fast forwarding through a few minutes here and there it zips through years. He becomes successful, but misses out on the important parts of life. When he finally realizes what is happening it’s too late. He has fast-forwarded his entire life away.

Like all Adam Sandler movies Click is chock full of toilet humor and his trademark angry episodes, but also has a sweet side. It’s a lesson in the need to really appreciate life's little moments and close friends and family more.

Click is It’s A Wonderful Life with better technology.

Once again Sandler rides a story arc familiar to fans of his movies—a short-tempered guy learns about love and life after overcoming some hardship. Somehow Sandler has managed to merge the on-screen personas of Jimmy Stewart and Sam Kinison blending the best of both into one character that he recycles from movie to movie. It’s effective in Click, but it isn’t anything we haven’t seen before from him.

More fun is the supporting work by Christopher Walken as the slightly sinister store clerk / master of time. His frizzed out mad scientist hair and quirky speech steal every scene he is in and provide many of the film’s laughs.

Click is that rare movie with both a moral and flatulence jokes.

CARS: 3 ½ STARS

Recently I complained that X-Men: The Last Stand blew a great opportunity to actually make their movie about something other than special effects and explosions. So often in the steamy hot days of summer Hollywood insists on making movies that entertain the eye but don’t really stimulate the mind, which is why I find it ironic that two of the most thoughtful films this summer season have been animated films laden with messages.

The recently released Over the Hedge was an anti-consumerist diatribe disguised as a kid’s comedy with cuddly animals, and now, here comes Pixar’s Cars down the track. On the surface cars is a story of a hotshot young racecar that gets sidetracked on the way to a career-making race. Stranded in the small town of Radiator Springs he learns about the true meaning of friendship and family. So far the story could have been ripped from any number of animated kid’s stories, but leave it to Pixar to deepen the story subtly adding in a wistful look at how the Interstate system of highways devastated the small towns that dotted the fabled Route 66. It’s not quite Jack Kerouac, but it is an effective comment on the high price that society pays for progress and convenience.

Not that kids will care about that. I think kids—young boys especially—
will be drawn to the colorful animation of these big-eyed cars. It took me a few minutes to warm up to the characters—the shiny cars aren’t as immediately lovable as previous Pixar characters like Nemo or Mr. Incredible—but as usual Pixar has cast the voice talent so well that it doesn’t take long to start thinking of these hunks of steel as flesh and blood. They are full of life and each has a unique personality—there is the brash Lightning McQueen, voiced by Owen Wilson, the embittered but wise Doc Hudson, brought to life by Paul Newman, a rusty old tow truck played by Larry the Cable Guy (who jokes that he gained 1700 pounds to play the part before he learned that it was an animated movie) and even George Carlin as a VW bus who doesn’t seem to realize the 60s are over.

Cars is a solid family movie with good life lessons and is touching tribute to a by-gone era in American life.

CHEAPER BY THE DOZEN 2 DVD: 1 STAR

In recent years Steve Martin has a made a career playing frazzled fathers in a series of forgettable family comedies with names like Father of the Bride, Bringing Down the House and the first Cheaper by the Dozen. The movies may be bland, but they are successful at the box office. In 2003 Cheaper by the Dozen’s brood of brats became the highest grossing comedy of all time, raking in $138 million. With numbers like that on the balance sheet a sequel was inevitable. In part two, out of DVD this week, Martin and his unruly family of twelve kids take a vacation to cottage country. To their horror they discover that they are sharing the lake with Martin’s childhood foe and a game of one upsmanship ensues. The movie fails on so many levels it’s hard to know where to start. It is crudely made, not very funny and there is more real family interaction on any episode of The Simpson’s than in this movie, but the thing that really rankles is watching the incredible comic talent of Steve Martin, once one of the sharpest comedic actors going, blunted by doing insipid material like this.

THE CHRONICLES OF NARNIA: 4 STARS

The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe about four children who travel through a wardrobe to the magical land of Narnia where animals talk and an evil ice queen has taken power, labors under the shadow of Peter Jackson’s Lord of the Rings trilogy. Jackson’s take on the world of the Rings set the benchmark for fantasy on film, and while Narnia gets most of it right, I was left with a feeling of been there, done that.

Director Andrew Adamson has extensive experience in animation, having helmed both the Shrek movies, and seems most comfortable with the non-human characters. The film doesn’t really take off until twenty minutes in when we meet Tumnus, a faun who meets the daughter of Eve, Lucy, on her first visit to Narnia. It’s a complicated performance from actor James McAvoy who is at once devious and conniving, but also kind and compassionate. 

The stand-out performance, however, is Tilda Swinton’s wicked portrayal of the White Witch. Disney has frequently featured mean characters, but this Witch makes Cruella DeVille look like Mary Poppins. She’s the Queen of Mean—she lies to kids, is unkind to animals and treats her underlings like dirt under her heal. Oh, and she has turned the entire country of Narnia into an icy prison, enslaving its inhabitants who long for the return of Aslan the lion king. She’s bound to inspire a nightmare or two.

Less successful is Adamson’s work with the four human kids who stumble into Narnia. William Mosely, who plays the oldest boy Peter, resembles England’s Prince William, but has little of his look-a-like’s charm. Of the quartet only Georgie Henley as young Lucy charms. 
  
The CG’d animals—Mr. and Mrs. Beaver, Alsan and the wolves—feature good voice work, but uneven animation. Aslan is photo realistic, while the Beavers look like refugees from a cheesy children’s storybook.

Adamson has been very faithful to the classic children's book by CS Lewis, retelling the story in a way that should keep fans of the source material happy, although I think some of the whimsy of the book has been lost in the translation. Narnia, as presented, is sort of a Lord of the Rings for kids, an epic story of good verses evil, but nowhere near as memorable as Jackson’s films. 

CAPOTE DVD: 4 STARS

It is often said that great art comes from adversity. The commentary track on the new DVD of Capote hints that, in fact, the old adage may be true. Director Bennett Miller and star Phillip Seymour Hoffman suggest that their relationship on set in Winnipeg may have been less than amicable. Perhaps it was that tension that drove Phillip Seymour Hoffman to give the best performance of his career as the prickly writer Truman Capote.

The film chronicles the six years Capote put in doing research for In Cold Blood, a true-crime book about the murder of a Kansas family. It also elaborates on the long-whispered rumours about his relationship with one of the killers, Perry Smith.

Hoffman is letter perfect as the writer, who to many people is best-known as a frequent guest on daytime talk shows in the 70s, and for his high squeaky voice. Capote captures the character before his life fell apart in a miasma of drugs and alcohol, and before he became a self-parody. Hoffman’s performance could easily have fallen into mimicry but is instead a well-hewn portrait of a complicated and troubled man.    

Curious George

Curious George is a movie for kids that harkens back to a quieter, gentler time. So much of kid’s entertainment today is frenetic and flatulent, featuring fast editing and bathroom jokes. The movie, based on the books by Margaret and H.A. Rey, is extremely G-rated and should appeal to young kids from ages zero to five or six.

Unlike Toy Story or Finding Nemo, no attempt is made to appeal to older views by layering pop culture references into the script. Curious George, tells the story of Ted (voiced by Will Ferrell) who sets out on a jungle expedition to bring back a massive idol that will save the natural history museum where he's employed.

In Africa, where he encounters a playful monkey who stows away in Ted's ship, following him back to civilization. Once back home they must deal with Ted’s failure to locate the giant idol and the imminent closure of the museum.
That’s it. Simple and to the point Curious George won’t have much appeal to adults, but should delight younger kids.

CHICKEN LITTLE: 2 ½ STARS

When I see a Disney movie like Chicken Little two things go through my mind. Firstly I’m hoping that the kid behind me doesn’t spit up on my shirt and secondly I always find myself comparing these computer-generated films to Finding Nemo. It’s not really fair because the story of the little fish who loses his mother is the Gone With the Wind of the genre and everything pales by comparison. Chicken Little, the story of the Petite Poulet who is just trying to restore his reputation after the infamous acorn-on-the-head-sky-is-falling debacle that sent his whole town into a panic, doesn’t suffer too much from the comparison with Nemo but it’s like weighing Gone With the Wind against Cold Mountain—they’re both good, but one is a classic movie while the other is just a movie.

At best, this is a sweet and funny movie which features one of the most expressive faces I’ve seen on film in a long time—animated or not. Chicken Little’s emotive eyes and furrowed feathered brow are very winning, as is the voice work by Scrubs’ star Zach Braff.

I think, however, that some of the action scenes—I don’t want to give anything away here, but there are aliens—might be a bit intense for very young viewers and I would have liked better music. I found the original tunes—with the exception of the title track by the Barenaked Ladies—quite dull, none of them had the oomph of Under the Sea from The Little Mermaid and the inclusion of tired old tunes like REM’s The End of the World As We Know It and Wannabe by the Spice Girls felt unoriginal and unimaginative.

THE CAVE: 2 STARS

The Cave is the kind of film that b-movie king Roger Corman got rich making. It’s good drive-in fare that mixes pseudo-science and spelunking and doesn’t demand much from the viewer other than to sit and watch the pictures as they fly through the air.

In The Cave bloodthirsty creatures—who look a great deal like the baddies from Alien—pounce on a pack of divers who become trapped in an underwater cave network. The movie plays on our primal fears of water, the dark and confined spaces and is most effective when it is underwater. The claustrophobia in those scenes is not quite scary, but certainly uncomfortable to watch.

Also uncomfortable to watch are some of the performances. The cast is lead by Cole Hauser—the great grandson of Harry M. Warner, the founder of Warner Brothers—who in recent years has become the poster boy for films that should have gone straight to video. Morris Chestnut, the likable actor from Ladder 49 and episodes of ER, acquits himself well enough, despite having to spout some of the most wooden dialogue this side of an Ed Wood movie. A little more humor worked in between the clichés in this script might have given the story a bit more oomph.

In all The Cave is a good air conditioning movie for one of those hot August nights when you just want to cool off in a climate-controlled theatre and give the brain a rest.

CORPSE BRIDE 4 STARS

Remember the Fractured Fairy Tales on the old Rocky and Bullwinkle show? They were updated riffs on old fables and following their candy-coated summer hit, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, Tim Burton and Johnny Depp now present a film in that same spirit. Corpse Bride is a stop-motion animated film that brings life to a century old Russian folk tale.

Far less dark than the name would imply, Corpse Bride is a grim fairy tale about an awkward young man (voiced by Depp) whose nouveau riche family has arranged for him to marry a titled but penniless young girl (voice of Emily Watson). After a disastrous wedding rehearsal the nervous groom is sent away to learn his vows. While rehearsing in the woods, he playfully slips the ring on a tree branch and utters the wedding words. In the film’s scariest sequence the hapless man discovers the branch is actually a bony hand attached to an arm—an arm belonging to The Corpse Bride (Helena Bonham Carter). In life the deceased girl with the Michael Jackson nose was jilted at the alter and now thinks she has a second chance at martial bliss in the Land of the Dead.   

The tale of the reluctant groom and his new ghoul-friend is a simple story that really comes to life in the telling. The beautifully hand-rendered animation—each movement of the puppets was done by hand, frame by frame—is a gift for the eyes. The colorful Land of the Dead is a wild underworld that resembles the heyday of the Cotton Club in a parallel universe, complete with a chorus line of skeletons; while the Land of the Living is a gorgeously somber place that reflects the mood of the story.

Far more, however, than simply a triumph of art direction or stop-motion, Corpse Bride is one of the best movies of the year featuring good performances, a story with real emotional depth and fun faux baroque music from Danny Elfman.

CHARLIE AND THE CHOCOLATE FACTORY: 4 STARS

As a director Tim Burton works best when he is able to create slightly skewed visions of the real world. From the hyper-real pastel-colored California of Edward Scissorhands and Pee Wee’s Big Adventure to the grimy Gotham of his Batman films to the idyll of Big Fish he shines when he spins reality 90 degrees to the left. He has done it once again in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, a faithful adaptation of the Roald Dahl book and not a remake of the 1971 Gene Wilder film. In Charlie and the Chocolate factory he creates two distinct worlds—the “real” world, both very modern, yet somehow timelessly retro and the weird candy world of chocolatier Willie Wonka’s factory where trees are made of spun sugar and a chocolate waterfall dominates the landscape. Of course the movie isn’t about the art direction, and Burton has ensured that the characters are strong enough to compete with the film’s strange backdrop. Johnny Depp seems to be channeling Michael Jackson’s otherworldly mannerisms as Wonka, a slightly creepy, but misunderstood outcast who has built his own fanciful universe to deal with the damage done to him by his overbearing father. His strange rendering of the parent-hating Wonka—complete with perfect fake teeth and a pageboy haircut—is an all or nothing performance that is so out there that it will either enthrall or annoy audiences. Either way it will make an impression. The other standout performance is from Freddie Highmore as the sweet-hearted Charlie. He and Depp worked together in last year’s Finding Neverland, and have real chemistry. Highly recommended.

Cinderella Man
 
Ron Howard's mostly true story of Jim Braddock is a depression era Rocky. It follows Braddock's career from his early days as a contender for a light-heavy weight title through to the dark Depression years when injuries and age prevented him from making a living in the ring right up to his amazing comeback in the ring when he became a symbol for courage in a country “that had been brought to its knees.” This is a big, good looking movie that seems to scream Oscar, except that it is a bit too long and relies too heavily on boxing movie clichés that we have seen before. The performances, however, are quite good. Paul Giamatti plays Braddock's manager Joe Gould with a lot of energy, while Renee Zellweger redefines the term "mousey" in her portrayal of Braddock's wife Mae. At the heart of the movie is Russell Crowe who shines as the humble, but driven Braddock. Crowe could be nominated for Best Actor for just one scene in this movie--where he goes back to a club frequented by his old boxing associates to beg for money from his former friends to pay his electrical bill.

CONSTANTINE

Every ten years or so Keanu Reeves makes a movie where he battles the devil. In 1997 he starred in The Devil’s Advocate in which he played a lawyer employed by Lucifer and now in Constantine he plays the title character, a chain-smoking supernatural detective who patrols the border between heaven and hell in an adaptation of the Hellblazer comics. Doomed to hell when he dies for a mortal sin he committed as a young man he battles demons on earth to earn his way into heaven.

I was a little confused by the movie’s mumbo-jumbo mythology, and I don’t think I was alone. Keanu has kind of a blank look on his face throughout the film that might imply that he didn’t really get it either. For a movie that is about large concepts like good and evil the film seems a little restrained—the action sequences never really take off; much of the CGI is video game fake and the occasional funny line seems out of place.

CHANGING LANES

Changing Lanes is a very enjoyable melodrama that keeps the viewer hooked until the last fifteen minutes. The film starts as Ben Affleck and Samuel L. Jackson turn a simple fender bender on FDR Drive in Manhattan into psychotic road rage. As the day wears on they set out to ruin each other’s lives through a campaign of dirty tricks, or as the movie’s tagline explains, “One wrong turn deserves another.” It’s a good premise, nicely acted by Affleck and Jackson, and well told by British director Roger Michell, whose work here is particularly surprising as his previous efforts haven’t been thrillers, but comedies (Notting Hill) and period drama (Persuasion). It’s familiar territory. 1993’s Falling Down breathes the same air as Changing Lanes in a story about a man pushed past his limit, and the consequences of his rage. Unlike Falling Down, Changing Lanes delves deeply into the reasons for the anger, and the characters don’t like what they see. Both Affleck and Jackson realize that they are more afraid of themselves, and what they have turned into, than each other. The movie remains strong until things start to fall apart near the end. Tacking on a happy Hollywood ending seriously undermines the power of this story.
 
CHARLIE’S ANGELS: FULL THROTTLE

It’s hard not to like a movie that features scantily-dressed fun-lovin’ women kicking butt and having a good time, but Charlie’s Angels: Full Throttle rings so hollow I can’t muster much enthusiasm for it.

The first film, 2000’s Charlie’s Angels was empty-headed, but at least had a sense of fun. This instalment ups the hip quotient, taking all the elements that worked well in the previous one and amplifying them – the actions scenes are louder, the kicks (and the skirts) a little higher, Cameron Diaz has not one, but two dance sequences and story is even more confusing than the first – jamming maximum eye candy into every frame. It has everything that summer audiences crave, everything that is, except soul. The MTV reared director McG moves the action along at the speed of light, proving that he has an attention span only as long as his name.

Last time around McG and producer Drew Barrymore (who also starred as Dylan Sanders) created a movie that paid homage to, but winked at the original 70s television series. In that daftly subversive movie the trio were at the beck and call of the mysterious Charlie, but were in no way enslaved by him, which was the uncomfortable reality of the television show. The movie Angels were playful and powerful.

This time out the film tries to hard. The fun, what little of it there is seems forced and uninspired. Instead of empowered women, Full Throttle offers up high kicking Barbies devoid of the charm that made them so winning the first time. In lieu of an actual character Cameron Diaz (look for her to earn multiple nominations when the next Golden Booty Awards are announced) simply flashes her toothy smile and underpants around, while Lucy Liu is still trading off the same hard-core dominatrix pose she perfected on Ally McBeal. Only Barrymore’s character seems rooted in reality, but even that sense of humanity evaporates the first time we see her fly through the air, kicking the stuffing out of the bad guys.
 
As the villainous ex-Angel Madison Lee, Demi Moore looks fabulous in her barely-there wardrobe. Apparently she has spent a good deal of time since we last saw her on the big screen at the gym. Too bad she didn’t skip the weights and take an acting course or two. Never a brilliant actress, I believe this is the first time Moore has actually been upstaged by her own abs.

Other supporting cast members fare only slightly better. Demi’s ex Bruce Willis is seen for under a minute, while the teenage Olsen Twins barely muster ten seconds of screen time. Other star cameos include Pink, Robert Forster, Carrie Fisher, Eric Bogosian and television Angel Jaclyn Smith. Director McG should be fully throttled for his mishandling of John Cleese as Lucy Liu’s father. It’s a funny idea to have a tall gawky Brit playing the diminutive Liu’s father, but his talent is utterly wasted. He’s given nothing to do except react with bulging eyes to a string of cheap double entendres. On the plus side Crispen Glover reprises his role from the first film as The Thin Man, delivering a delightfully unhinged performance as the hair fetishist assassin.

In the end big and bloated are two words I’d never use to describe the Angels (for fear of bring pummelled) but would use to describe the movie.

CHERISH

Cherish is one of those films that people like to call “quirky.” It is a strange little story about a fantasy-prone woman named Zoe who winds up under house arrest for a crime that she didn’t commit. She finds ways to cope with her situation, which at first doesn’t seem that bad. There are worse ways to do your time than in a huge Ikea furniture decorated loft in San Francisco, but the limitations of movement soon become obvious, and you realize that anywhere can become a prison if you aren’t allowed to leave. Robin Tunney rises above the messy script to actually give Zoe some life, while Tim Blake (O Brother Where Art Thou?) Nelson’s love-sick deputy is an understated gem of a performance. If nothing else Cherish is a good antidote to the smash-‘em-up summer blockbusters currently clogging up multi-plex screens.

THE COUNT OF MONTE CRISTO

Good old fashioned action / adventure that embodies the spirit of the swashbuckling movies of Errol Flynn. James Caviezel is dynamic as the Count, a man so set on revenge he can think of nothing else. Guy Pearce as Fernand Mondego, the morally corrupt aristocrat and object of the Count’s revenge is sleazy, shady and seedy, the kind of character you love to hate. The Count of Monte Cristo caters to its audience. Don’t look for deep meaning here, this is about keeping the audience busy. Director Kevin Reynolds gives us equal parts intrigue and revenge, then throws in some pretty girls, a few laughs, and some great action. It may not mean much, but it adds up to a rollicking good time at the movies.

CQ

Roman Coppola has worked on his father’s films since he was a teenager, doing sound on The Outsiders and directing the second unit and special effects for Bram Stoker’s Dracula. CQ is his feature film debut, although he is already well known for directing music videos. The action takes place in Paris in 1968 and involves a character named Paul, an idealistic American film student who ends up directing a sci-fi b-movie. CQ is an incredibly layered and stylistic film, maybe too much so. There are two films within the film, and Coppola cuts back and forth randomly, using Paul’s cinema verite black and white experimental film to provide the emotional core of the story, while the science fiction film propels the action. It’s a valiant try, and while it’s not completely successful, I really liked CQ. Coppola has nailed the time and place perfectly – Paris in 1968 looks like the hippest spot on earth – coaxed good performances from his actors and put together a soundtrack that actually adds to the movie, rather than just support it.