THE WOMAN IN BLACK: 4 STARS

Once again Daniel Radcliffe finds himself butting heads with the supernatural. No the Death Eaters and Lord Voldemort haven’t come back to haunt him, but a certain forlorn female ghost has. It’s not quite “Harry Potter Meets the Woman in Black,” but it’s almost as entertaining.

Radcliffe is lawyer Arthur Kipps. Leaving his son behind in London, the widower travels to a remote English village to settle the affairs of Alice Drablow. Ms. Drablow may have shuffled off this mortal coil but the locals are convinced she still haunts her old house. Worse, because she still mourns her son Nathaniel, a toddler who drowned on her estate, whenever she is seen, a village child dies. His presence on her at her home, the dilapidated Eel Marsh House, stirs up her spirit, and soon the local children start dropping like flies. The question is, will he be able to get to the bottom of her sad tale before his son arrives from London and becomes a victim of the curse?

Based on Susan Hill's novel of the same name, and interpreted by the storied Hammer Films, “The Woman in Black” is letter-perfect gothic horror. A sad gloom hangs over the entire picture, from the perma-dour look on Radcliffe’s face—his own son draws a picture of him with a downturned mouth explaining, ”That’s the way you look daddy.”—to the melancholy mist that envelopes the town to the dark shadows that color every scene.

And, as haunted houses go, this is a doozy. It’s remote, old and rambling. Doorknobs turn by themselves, faces appear in windows and there are stuffed monkeys and creepy Victorian children’s wind-up toys everywhere. With toys like this to play with it’s a wonder Victorian kids weren’t scared half-out-of-their-minds all the time.

Add to that the titular ghostly presence and you have a movie with lots of scares, but not the kind we’ve become used to. “The Woman in Black” revs up anticipation, playing on its ample atmosphere to create an aura of tension. When the frights do come, they’re effective because we’re primed for them. It’s an anti-torture-porn movie, an old-school horror film—there’s no blood and guts—but the shocks are effective and lasting.

Radcliffe is in virtually every scene and despite a lack of dialogue—most of the key scenes in the house are completely silent save for some spooky music—he anchors the film. It’s difficult not to see Harry Potter in his face but here he takes a good stride to step away from the typecasting of his most successful role.

BIG MIRACLE: 3 STARS

Like the title suggests, " Big Miracle" is a big movie with big stars like Drew Barrymore and John Krasinski, big ideas--culture clashes, network news parodies--big running time--almost two hours--but most of all it has a big heart.

Krasinski plays Adam Carlson an ambitious television reporter paying his dues in Alaska. When he uncovers a story about three whales trapped beneath the ice in the remote community of Barrow the story goes national, attracting the attention of everyone from his ex girlfriend, a Greenpeace activist played by Drew Barrymore to an oil baron (Ted Danson) to the American public and even Ronald Reagan and Gorbachev (Favorite line in the movie? "Gorby, it's Ronnie!").

"Big Miracle" has many story threads running throughout. The plight of he whales is the starting int for the film to examine the culture of the north, the ruthlessness of the news business, Cold War co-operation between the US and Russia, the oil business and there's even a love story thrown in for good measure.

This many ideas shouldn't really work, but somehow the film's earnestness helps everything gel. No great answers are provided and most everything is painted in broad family friendly strokes, but like I said in the intro, the film has heart and in this case that goes a long way.

Having said that it also has to be noted that the whale puppets used throughout are smarter and have more soul than many of the human characters. Barrymore in particular seems like hysterical stereotype than effective activist but it's worth getting past her histrionics to catch a glimpse of a certain Alaskan celebrity who makes a brief, unexpected cameo near the end.

W.E.: 2 STARS

In recent years filmmakers haven’t been content to simply tell one story. Recently Steven Soderbergh semi-successfully wove together a multitude of storylines to create the germ-o-phobic tapestry of “Contagion,” and “360” sees Antony Hopkins leading a mind bogglingly large cast of characters vying for screen time.
Madonna is a little less ambitious in “W.E.,” melding only two stories together. But you know what? It’s still one too many.

Cutting between 1990s New York and the scandalous 1930s love affair between Wallis Simpson (Andrea Riseborough) and King Edward VIII (James D’Arcy) that shook the world, the film struggles to make a connection between the two story threads.

In New York Wally Winthrop (Abbie Cornish) is a desperate housewife, the wife of a doctor who becomes obsessed with the decades old love story. She visits Sotheby’s every day, admiring the Simpson artifacts up for auction. There she meets a handsome security guard (Oscar Isaac) who helps her see happiness through her fog of depression.   

Running parallel to this is Simpson’s story.

If you squint, and look very closely you may be able to find a thread of logic that connects these two stories, but as presented it’s a stretch. The Winthrop story is simply tiresome and takes away from the historical aspect of the story, which, in light of the recent success of “The King’s Speech,” might have worked as a love story.

Certainly it doesn’t work as an historical piece. It is sumptuously laid out and shot, but Madonna (who also co-wrote the script) seems content to ignore Simpson’s Nazi sympathies and some of the unseemly aspects of her relationship with Edward. Nonetheless Andrea Riseborough as Simpson and James D’Arcy as Edward acquit themselves quite well, it’s just a pity they don’t have a more focused movie to showcase their talents.

ALBERT NOBBS: 2 ½ STARS

The title character of “Albert Nobbs” is described as “the strangest an I ever met,” which makes sense because he’s actually a woman. Glenn Close, in an Academy Award nominated role, plays a woman who escaped a life of poverty by dressing as a man and taking a job at Morrison’s Hotel in 19th century Dublin.

When Albert meets the house painter Hubert Page (Janet McTeer), another woman living in drag and married to a woman, he is encouraged to escape the shackles of conservative Ireland and live a happy life. Her fatal attraction is Helen (Mia Wasikowska) a young maid who has eyes for the handsome new handy-man Joe Macken (Aaron Johnson).

Close played the part of the fastidious butler Nobbs on stage thirty years ago and one can only imagine that the intervening years have deepened the performance. She embodies not only the physicality of the man, but the spirit as well.  It’s a stunner of a performance, equally ingrained with repression, gentleness and secrecy.

Unfortunately the towering performances from Close and McTeer are blunted somewhat by a script that isn’t as interesting as the character study that is at the center of it.

It stumbles when it tries to address the larger issue of female poverty in a male dominated society and simply takes too long to make any point at all.

“Albert Nobbs” is a noble failure, a movie with great performances that wants to be important, but is done in by a shallow script.

THE GREY: 4 STARS

“The Grey,” the new Liam Neeson film, is an art house action movie. The bravado that colors most action flicks is gone, replaced by equal parts despair and intestinal fortitude.

Neeson plays John Ottway, a sharpshooter and Wolf Whisperer hired to keep predatory wolves out of an oil station in the remotest part of Alaska.  He becomes the leader of a ragtag group of survivors when the plane transporting them to their oil job crashes in the wilderness. Hunted by wolves and exposed to the elements Ottway’s know-how is the only thing between freezing to death, or worse, becoming the big bad wolf’s dinner.

The thing that separates “The Grey” from other man versus nature movies is the characters. At first glance they are the usual assortment of rough and ready characters, the edgy chatterbox, the ex con, but soon nuances appear.

The point of the whole thing is survival, but along the way the cast (Dermot Mulroney, Frank Grillo, Dallas Roberts, Joe Anderson, Nonso Anozie, and James Badge Dale) discuss the intricacies of life, shed tears, question faith and even recite poetry when not fighting off steely-eyed wolves. You won’t find this kind of behavior in other action movies because those films are about setting up the action and the payoff. “The Grey” isn’t, it wants you to get to know the men so when something awful happens to them, you care.

Mostly it works. (MILD SPOILER) The climax of Frank Grillos’ Diaz character is particularly effective as it gets to the very heart of why—or why not—this man will survive.

As good as the ensemble ism, this is Neeson’s movie. He plays a broken man who has recently lost his wife and the memory of her haunts him. He’s suicidal and lost, but learns a new lust for life in this adverse situation. Whether the tragic loss of his wife in real life informed this role, I wouldn’t presume to day, but there is a haunted quality to his performance that seems deeply felt.

Be warned, however, as intelligent as “The Grey” is, it’s also borders on horror, playing on fear of barren spaces—bring an extra scarf, the howling wind effect alone will chill you to the bone—and well, corpse eating wolves. But even though it is sometimes graphic, it still resonates emotionally.

MAN ON A LEDGE: 2 STARS

If I had to choose one word to describe “Man on a Ledge,” the new heist drama starring Sam Worthington and Jamie Bell, it wouldn’t be thrilling or even breathtaking. No the word that best sums up the movie is implausible. Your enjoyment of the film will depend on how often you are willing to suspend your disbelief.

Worthington plays Nick Cassidy, a former cop sentenced to twenty-five years at Sing Sing prison for a diamond heist he may or may not have committed. After a daring escape he launches an elaborate plan to prove his innocence. Step one is perching himself on the ledge of the twenty-first floor of a Manhattan hotel. From that vantage point he orchestrates a “Mission: Impossible” style scheme to uncover the plot that sent him up the river.

“Man on a Ledge” is not what Hitchcock called a Refrigerator Movie. That is, one that seems to make sense while you’re watching it, but later, when you’re at home in front of the fridge thinking about it, the inanity of it becomes clear. Nope, this one is loud and proud in its complete lack of logic.

Plot wise so many things don’t add up that according to this movie’s way of thinking one plus one must equal five. But, as I said earlier, if you can suspend disbelief and go along for the ride “Man on a Ledge” proves not to be a bad movie, just a silly one.

Stereotypes abound—there’s the ruthless reporter who knows that  jumpers are good for ratings, the troubled cop, the coldblooded businessman—and an  overly elaborate plan that plays itself out just a little too easily. Add to that a bit too much talk about “how far you would go to clear your name” and one scene of completely gratuitous almost nudity and you end up with a poorly plotted time waster that skates by on the strength of its characters.

ONE FOR THE MONEY: 1 STAR

“One for the Money,” the first adaptation of a book in author Janet Evanovich’s popular Stephanie Plum series, wants desperately to be as slick an entertainment as “Get Shorty” but ends up a little lower on the scale,  closer to “Jersey Shore.”

Set in Trenton, New Jersey, the story begins when Plum (Katherine Heigl, who also produces) confesses to her family that she lost her job… six months ago. With her car in the repo shop, her rent due and fridge empty, she blackmails her cousin into giving her a job as a skip tracer, a.k.a. bounty hunter. Her first gig is to bring in a former flame named Joe Morelli (Jason O'Mara), which lends a double meaning to the cop slang she uses when she talks about “nailing” him. The job becomes much more complicated as she gets pulled into a much larger criminal conspiracy.

Amazon.com describes the fictional Plum of the books as smart, honest and funny, three things her cinematic counterpart is most definitely not.

Heigl plays the character as a romantic comedy reject with a gun with all the nuance that implies. What should have been a plum role for her (pun intended) falls flat. Tough one second, vulnerable the next, she’s all over the place, and as a result never finds anything interesting to say about Plum.

It doesn’t help that she is surrounded by cardboard-thin characters, each one quirkier than the last. How about a grandmother (Debbie Reynolds) who has a one liner for every occasion, or a hooker (Sherri Shepherd) with an attitude and an appetite?

There is room for colorful characters in a movie like this, just not so many of them. “Get Shorty” worked because it had one flamboyant character at its center, not one (or more) in every scene.

It might be tolerable if any of them had interesting dialogue, but when Morelli spouts lines like, “We are ancient history… like the pyramids, baby,” and Plum solemnly declares in her fluctuating Jersey accent, “Now it’s personal,” it only reinforces the idea that not a lot of effort went into this sloppy movie.

That, and obvious gaffes like the fastest sunset in history—it’s daylight one second, darkness the next!—and a character who frees himself after being handcuffed to a railing, without pulling a Houdini on the handcuffs themselves! That’s a magic trick David Copperfield would like.

Worse, “One for the Money” doesn’t respect its audience. Though the story is by-the-book, Plum constantly interrupts the flow with exposition and voice overs that explain the extremely obvious. Well-crafted crime thrillers are like puzzles hat offer the audience to do some of the detective work.

Former “Grey’s Anatomy” director Julie Anne Robinson chooses not to allow that audience that pleasure, instead she spoils the fun by providing blow-by-blow commentary from Plum.

“One for the Money” cold have been the beginning of a fun franchise for Stephanie Plum fans, but is, in its place, a ninety-minute exercise in how not to adapt a book to the big screen.  

TYRANNOSAUR: 4 STARS

“Tyrannosaur,” a new drama from actor-turned-director-and-writer Paddy Considine—best known for his work in films like “In America” and “24 Hour Party People”—is a grim but compelling look at a man hell bent on destruction, until he meets a woman who gives him a glimmer of hope.

I know, it sounds like the kind of thing we’ve seen a million times before, but Considine’s camera is so unflinching in showing the details of this man’s descent and devastating search for redemption that it makes the movie a singular experience.

It takes a special kind of movie to start with the killing of a dog… and then get harsher from there but “Tyrannosaur” does, and in doing so paints a harrowing portrait of the cycle of violence that has so stained its protagonist.

Joseph (Scottish character actor Peter Mullen, currently also on screen in “War Horse”) is a deeply damaged man. A widower and a drunk, he is the product of abuse, guilt ridden and prone to rages.  “I’m not a nice human being,” he says, which may be the understatement of the new century. By contrast, Hannah (Olivia Colman), a worker in a nearby charity shop who befriends Joseph, is sweetness and light, but hides a terrible secret; she is abused by her bully husband James (Eddie Marsan).

Considine, who based this screenplay on his award winning short film “Dog Altogether,” weaves their stories into one, creating a character study and a look at class in Britain—highlighting the differences and similarities of working class Joseph to James’s middle class life.

It’s a grim task, but the result is spectacular for viewers with the stomach for it. He cuts no corners, avoids easy sentiment or resolutions but is aided ably by his cast. Mullen’s tight grimace says more than most of the lines of dialogue about Joseph, while Marsden is an unsettling presence, but it is Colman who dominates.

Best known as a comic actress—her credits include “Hot Fuzz” and the Britcom “Beautiful People”—she is utterly authentic—desperate and heartbreaking— in every frame handing in one of the great under appreciated performances of the year.

“Tyrannosaur” is a tragically beautiful film It’s not a journey everyone is going to want to take, but it’s a rewarding one for those who go along for the ride.

HAYWIRE: 3 STARS

“Haywire,” a new action film from “Ocean’s 11” director Steven Soderbergh isn’t so much a movie as it is a showcase for the lithe athleticism of its star Gina Carano. Imagine an MMA match with a storyline and you get the idea.

Carano, the former champion mixed martial arts fighter, plays Mallory Kane, a mercenary who specializes in the dirty jobs that governments like to freelance out. Her idea of relaxation is “a glass of wine and gun maintenance.” Following a successful hostage rescue in Barcelona her handler Kenneth (Ewan McGregor) dispatches her to Dublin. There she teams with an MI5 operative (Michael Fassbender) only to discover she has been double-crossed. Angry, she Muay Thai’s herself back to the United States searching for clues and revenge.  

Does the story mater? Nope. Not one bit. It’s the usual medium to complicated undercover spy tale—the kind that wraps up all the loose ends with a bit of exposition and some well chosen flashbacks at the end—but you don’t go to see “Haywire” for the story.

The movie is at it’s best when Carano is on the move, running, jumping, and kicking the snot out of her opponents. Soderbergh tosses in an action scene every ten minutes or so, but the violence here feels different. Sure necks get broken and people get shot in the face but unlike most action flicks Soderbergh doesn’t amp up the sound to go along with the punches, kicks and gunshots. Many films exaggerate the combat noises to add excitement, “Haywire” doesn’t. It trusts the fight choreography and because the violence isn’t particularly cartoony it doesn’t need to be juiced up.  

The fights feel authentic—no CGI, few stunt people—a testament to Carano’s obvious fighting skills and Soderbergh’s wise decision to underplay the violence.

“Haywire” feels like a grrrl power version of a mid-80s Jean-Claude Van Damme movie. Of course it is elevated by the presence of actors like Fassbender, Antonio Banderas, Michael Douglas and Bill Paxton but at its heart it is a scrappy action movie that would play best in drive-ins and grindhouses.

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.

RED TAILS: 2 ½ STARS

“Red Tails” feels like a 1940s war movie. It has soldiers who utter liens like, “Take that Mr. Hitler!” as they blow up ammunition ship and amazing aerial photography. The only difference is the color of the soldier’s skin. A study of the classic war films shows no indication of the contribution of African-American soldiers. By telling the heroic story of the Tuskegee airmen “Red Tails” hopes to right that wrong.

Based on true events (though dramatized for film) the movie focuses on a group African American WWII pilots, the top guns of the 332nd Fighter Group, the Tuskegee Airmen. Fighting the racial discrimination of the US military they prove their mettle by taking on dangerous assignments in active combat.

You can’t accuse Red Tails of being subtle. It plays like a Saturday morning matinee with a social conscious; unabashedly patriotic, unapologetically melodramatic and an unashamed throwback to the propaganda movies of yesteryear. The mix and match of those elements works for the first hour, but the time one of the pilots whoops, “Let’s give those newspapers something to write about!” the once charming tone of the movie starts to wear thin.

George Lucas produced this—although “Treme’s” Anthony Hemingway directed—and it is a Lucas movie with all the good and bad that implies. It’s corny, over-the-top, wildly uneven and episodic but when it takes flight, literally, it soars.

The aerial scenes (aided by Lucas’s computer tweaking) are breathtaking. I do wish, however, there was less dialogue during the dogfights. I think fighter pilots in attack mode have better things to concentrate on than making wisecracks or talking about girls.

“Red Tails” mostly suffers from a poorly told story. Just as it seems to be working up to an important point or climatic moment, it shies away, instead focusing on a superfluous love story or melodramatic moment ("My head, it hurts… I must have passed out").

The actors do what they can with what they’re given—Nate Parker as Martin "Easy" Julian and David Oyelowo as Joe "Lightning" Little are the standouts—but the stars here are the planes and the historical context, not the actors.

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.    

A DANGEROUS METHOD: 3 ½ STARS

With the release of “A Dangerous Mind,” the tautly told story of two psychoanalysts you’ve heard of, Dr. Carl Jung (Michael Fassbender) and Sigmund Freud (Viggo Mortensen), plus one you’ve probably never heard of, Sabina Spielrein (Keira Knightley), director David Cronenberg is still exploring uncharted territory in his films.

On the surface the story seems simple enough. Two pioneering figures of psychoanalysis have a falling out over an intelligent, beautiful but troubled patient. In the hands of Cronenberg and writer Christopher “Dangerous Liaisons” Hampton however, the movie becomes an enticing stew of psycho-sexuality and repression that challenges commonly held beliefs about what is normal and what is not.

Cronenberg, always known for his crisp filmmaking, has rarely ever been this simply elegant. Shot compositions and camerawork are kept simple so as not to distract from the star of the show—the dialogue. As you can imagine, in a drama about three therapists (Spielrein became a doctor after her treatment with Jung), there is a great deal of talk. Separately and together they talk about their dreams, their pasts and, in the case of Jung and Spielrein, their future. It may be the most inward looking movie of the year, but in its introspection—and buried in the film’s subtext—is a restrained but fascinating glimpse into the lives and minds of these characters.

Keira Knightley delivers a brave, strange and Oscar worthy performance as Spielrein, while Fassbender expertly plays the repression that plagued Jung. Cronenberg muse Viggo Mortensen may seem an odd choice to play Freud, but he leaves behind the physical performances that have marked his best work to create a convincing portrait of Freud.

“A Dangerous Method” won’t be for everyone. The combo of love story and birth of modern analysis is an odd mix. The almost total lack of physical action—Cronenberg’s fireworks here are in the small moments and the ideas expressed in the script—means the focus is on the words, but where some will see a film rich with dialogue, others will see it as verbose. But that’s just the kind of duality the movie explores.

THE IRON LADY: 3 STARS

The film begins in the present with Margaret Thatcher, the longest serving British Prime Minister of the twentieth century, diminished by age. Once the most powerful woman in Europe she now goes unrecognized at her local convenience store. She daydreams conversations with her late husband and reflects on the past, which leads us into the "greatest hits" biographical format that makes up most of the movie.

What follows is the inevitable mega montage of newscasts, archival footage, snippets from Thatcher's speeches and some behind-the-scenes intrigue all framed by more private moments--both past and present.

It's all rather standard, elevated by a performance which, once again, displays what a great technician Meryl Streep is. She embodies Thatcher, from the flamboyant hair to the ever-present pearls although the real heavy lifting is done in the "lion in winter" scenes. It's there she goes beyond the showy impersonation and becomes an emotional, well rounded portrait.

THE DEVIL INSIDE: 0 STARS

A title card near the beginning of “The Devil Inside” reads “The Vatican does not endorse this film.” I know how they feel. I can’t endorse it either.

Set in 2009, it’s a mock documentary—think the “Blair Witch Exorcism”—about a daughter’s search to find out the truth about her mother. In 1989 Maria Rossi (Suzan Crowley), mother of Isabella (Fernanda Andrade) murdered three people during an exorcism. Twenty years later Isabella, documentary camera in tow, travels to Rome where her mother is being treated in an institution. There she hooks up with two rogue priests who perform unauthorized exorcisms. Their examination of Maria—to determine if she is mentally ill or is actually possessed—results in a devilish domino effect.

“The Devil Inside” is an exceedingly silly movie. The naturalism that makes other “found footage” movies like “Paranormal Activity” so effective is missing, replaced with stilted acting, clunky dialogue—When good old mom tells Isabella that her actions are “against God’s will,” Isabella pronounces, “That means something, right?”—and WAY too much pointless exposition. Is it really necessary to explain that the possession of one body by several demons is known in the profession as—wait for it!— “multiple demonic possession”?

Worse, there’s more talk of exorcism than actual exorcisms. They prattle on and on about the particulars of possession, but when they actually do one it is with all the out-of-focus, wobbly camera anti-panache these “found footage” films are known for.

There’s no pea soup, no head spinning, just some contorting and hard to see special effects. Even the battle between good and evil—the thing that made “The Exorcist” the benchmark of devil possession movies—doesn’t register. If you don’t care about the characters you certainly won’t care about whatever may be living inside them.

In its slight 80 minute running time—just about the best thing I can say about this movie is, ‘Hey, at least it wasn’t longer!—“The Devil Inside” has one or two fleeting moments that will raise the hair on the back of your hand. The rest of the time you’ll be resting your head against the back of your hand trying not to fall asleep.

MARGIN CALL DVD: 4 STARS

“Margin Call,” a new Wall Street drama with an all-star cast including Kevin Spacey, Paul Bettany, Jeremy Irons and Demi Moore, deserved a better run at the theatres. Now on DVD and download, this overlooked movie of the beginning of our recent financial crisis has a compelling story and great acting but didn’t find an audience theatrically.

A fictionalized account of what may have happened at Lehman Brothers et al, “Margin Call” is set at a Wall Street firm following a brutal round of layoffs. Using information passed on by one of the outgoings execs an analyst, played by “Star Trek’s” Zachary Quinto, discovers that the firm is wildly overleveraged. Saving the company will affect not only the employees but the entire economy of the United States.

The way I have described it would sound melodramatic if it wasn’t bound so closely to fact and that’s the beauty of the movie. It takes complex financial transactions, dramatizes them and presents them in a way that makes sense and shines spotlight on the terrible mess the greed of these Wall Street firms caused.

But without great characters a movie solely about the crisis wouldn’t be necessary in the wake of Inside Job,” the Oscar winning documentary that covered pretty much the same ground.

Luckily “Margin Call” abounds with interesting characters even though doesn’t exactly avoid the stereotypical portrayal of Wall Street types—there is the de rigueur associate obsessed with his colleague’s pay cheques, the over indulgent CEOs. But despite its occasional typecasting, actors like Spacey, Tucci and Simon Baker imbue their characters with humanity, creating multi-layered people concerned with the ethics of what they are doing.  

Perhaps “Margin Call” flopped because people don’t want to be reminded of the financial meltdown that left tens-of-thousands of Americans stuck with sub prime mortgages and made foreclosure signs the hottest landscaping feature of the 2008-2009 season. Perhaps it was because the star wattage of Stanley Tucci and Kevin Spacey wasn’t enough to put bums in seats. Whatever the reason, “Margin Call” remains a gem that will hopefully find its audience on the small screen.

THE WINDSORS FROM GEORGE TO KATE DVD:
For Royal Watchers: 4 Stars
For Everyone Else: 2 ½ Stars
From “The King’s Speech” to the Royal Wedding the royals have been at the center of popular culture. Not that they have ever been far out of the spotlight, but lately it seems that light is shining a bit brighter than it has for some time.

Taking advantage of that newfound enthusiasm for all things regal is “The Windsors From George to Kate,” a new DVD made up of old footage. Offering up everything from George V’s Silver Jubilee to a host of royal funerals, the coronations of George VI and Queen Elizabeth and wedding footage—Charles and Diana and William and Kate (the latter only in the bonus material)—it’s a greatest hits package of royal public life but barely touches on anything that didn’t happen in front of a television camera. There’s more crowns on display here than in an whole season of “Toddlers and Tiaras.”

The result is an educational look, filled with pomp and circumstance, at one of the most fascinating families of our age. There’s no insight, but watching the ancient rituals of coronation played out in modern times is anthropologically interesting.

WAR HORSE: 3 STARS

“War Horse” is one part “Saving Private Ryan,” one part “ET” and all Spielberg. Pulling its inspiration from both a children's novel set during World War I and the 2007 stage adaptation of the same name, it is the kind of movie that used to win Best Picture awards. It’s handsome, well crafted and emotional, but also old-fashioned and a bit too traditional for its own good.

Newcomer Jeremy Irvine stars as Albert Narracott, the son of Ted (Peter Mullen), a poor but proud Devon farmer. In the months before the outbreak of World War I Ted gets caught up in auction fever and wildly overpays for a thoroughbred horse in the local village. The horse, named Joey, is a beauty, but Ted needed a workhorse not a purebred. His son Albert, however, bonds with the horse and rains him to plough fields and earn his keep. When war is declared the horse is recruited into the cavalry as an officer’s official ride.  Heartbroken, Albert vows he will be reunited with Joey at the end of the war. In the coming years the horse changes hands several times, passing from the British to German armies, to a French farmer and his granddaughter, before winding up, alone, in No Man’s Land. He’s the little horse who could… could save the family farm, fight a war, bridge the gap between enemies, but most of all, survive.

“War Horse” is an old-fashioned, inspirational horse movie, fueled by big emotional moments and Joey’s even bigger soulful eyes. Combining epic, realistic battle scenes with smaller emotive moments Spielberg has made a traditional feeling film that nonetheless feels uneven.

For every scene that really works, like shooting part of one sequence through a reflection in the horse’s eye, there are two others that feel unnecessary. It’s frustrating because the things that work are spectacular.

Spielberg has an unerring eye when it comes to shot composition and he knows how to suck every drop of emotion out of a scene. Few moments on film this year are as effective as Joey’s entrance into the No Man’s Land between the German and English trenches. Wrapped in barbed wire, writhing and snorting, it’s magnificent in its tortured beauty (although horse lovers may find it hard to watch).

But for all its highlights the first twenty minutes drag, Irvine has almost negative charisma and the end is coated in an almost sick-making thick layer of Spielbergian sugar.

“War Horse” is a beautiful looking film, handsome in both its craft and intention, but runs out of racetrack because of too many moments of unearned emotion.

EXTREMELY LOUD AND INCREDIBLY CLOSE: 3 ½ STARS

If there is one movie this year that should be a guaranteed tearjerker, “Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close,” should be it. It has all the elements to make eyes water—a trailer that hits all the right emotional notes, a sad-eyed child protagonist, a dead father and to top it all off, 9/11. Whether the water works are turned on or off will likely only depend on whether you are made of stone or not.
 
Based on the novel by Jonathan Safran Foer, the movie explores the horror of 9/11 through the eyes of a gifted ten-year-old named Oskar (Thomas Horn). His father (Tom Hanks) was killed in the attack, leaving behind Oskar, his mother (Sandra Bullock) and grandmother (Zoe Caldwell) who lives in the brownstone next door. A year after the “worst day” Oskar finds a blue vase containing an envelope simply marked “Black” and a key. Thinking the key must unlock something special—a message from his father perhaps—he embarks on a well organized, if somewhat daunting mission to find out what the key opens.
 
“Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close” is a 9/11 movie that isn’t about ideology but the human cost of ideology. There’s no talk of Osama Bin laden or Al Quaida, instead it is about a young boy’s search to make sense of something that doesn’t make sense. His search isn’t for answers as to why 9/11 happened, but rather to keep a connection to his father alive.
 
Horn does much of the heavy lifting here, carrying the movie while veterans Hanks, Bullock and Max Von Sydow watch from afar. In most scenes he is supremely effective, his doe eyes conveying the pain, hurt and confusion that comes along with great loss.
 
Only occasionally does he fall into precious kid actor territory. It’s a tough character, an old-beyond-his-years boy, who may or may not have Asperger’s Syndrome. He’s smart but awkward and Horn usually finds the balance, but every now and again the character becomes all quirk. Are we meant to believe Oskar would have a WWII gas mask on him in preparation for his first subway ride? In moments like that we’re taken out of the story as Oskar becomes a more a vessel for some of director’s Stephen Daltry’s quirky character ideas.

His strongest scenes are the most emotional. A long conversation late in the movie with his mom is a show-stopper. His reaction when he figures out why his father has left so many phone messages on 9/11 is heartfelt and tragic. Like asking to kiss the first woman he goes to see on his journey. The movie gets it right in those tender moments.

Hanks is barely in the movie, seemingly cast because of the goodwill he naturally inspires in audiences. The film needs a lovable dad who is largely absent through the story and Hanks fits the bill.

Bullock is given more to do and her every-woman appeal brings great empathy to the mother's character. Von Sydow is brilliant in a character whose presence is completely unnecessary to the success of the film. He doesn't forward the action or add much overall, but he's such a joy to watch I'm really glad he's there.

On a tear-jerker scale of one to ten this young boy’s discovery that his connection with his dead father will be a metaphysical one rather than a physical one, is a seven. A bit over long, with a drawn out ending, but a few moments guaranteed to trigger the water works.

THE DARKEST HOUR: 1 ½ STARS

Slipped into theatres with little fanfare on Christmas Day, "The Darkest Hour" is a holiday gift even less welcome than Aunt Edith's stale fruitcake.

Before the bleak time referred to in the title, Ben and Sean (Max Minghella and Emile Hirsch) arrive in Moscow, get screwed in a major business deal, and meet some hotties (Olivia Thirlby and Rachael Taylor) in a bar. Just as things are getting cozy with their new friends the lights go dim. In another kind of movie that would mean a start to some hot and heavy romance but the only sparks that fly here are from the evil aliens who have invaded earth and use electrical impulses to disintegrate the puny humans in their path. The new friends band together to fight against the ETs, collecting a ragtag bunch of high wattage commandoes and hangers-on to form an Electrical Resistance Army to stand against the creatures.

"The Darkest Hour" could easily have been titled "The Dorkiest Hour" as it contains every nerd cliche from almost every sci fi film ever made. There's the obvious "Red Shirt" character, doomed to die with only a few lines of dialogue under his belt.

The other characters aren't exactly blessed with great dialogue. An endless stream of cliches--"We can't be the only ones left!"--all have a been-there-heard-that feel.

Then there's the human dustification annihilation scenes lifted from "War of the Worlds," and the eerily empty city streets borrowed from "I Am Legend" and "28 Days Later," are just a couple of the movie homages that make up this science fiction pastiche. The entire thing plays out like a cut and paste job.

Still, cut and paste jobs are nothing new in movies and even the most cliche film can be rescued if it has compelling characters. Unfortunately "The Darkest Hour" falls down on that score as well. I'm sure they all have character names but they're so uninteresting they may as well be called Generic Girl Number 1 or Unexpected Hero with an Attitude. Quick! Somebody call Central Casting! Some of their stock characters have escaped their cages!

"The Darkest Hour" almost lives up to its name. It's a dark, dull way to spend, not hours, but ninety minutes.

THE GIRL WITH THE DRAGON TATTOO: 4 STARS

In book form the "Millennium series," Stieg Larsson’s trio of novels about the adventures of investigative journalist Mikael Blomkvist and hacker Lisbeth Salander sold tens of millions of copies. The original set of Swedish films made Noomi Rapace s star and Salander an icon. So the news that Hollywood was doing a quick-draw remake of the Swedish noir was met with skepticism.

And in some cases hostility.   

One writer said the movie should be called “The Girl with a Knife in Her Back.” Tensions eased when David “The Social Network” Fincher was announced as director and Daniel Craig as star.

The remaining question was, who would have the unenviable task of reshaping the Salander character?

Rooney Mara, that’s who. Get used to the name. After this, you’ll likely be hearing a lot about her. More about her later.

The original series of “Girl” movies started strong with “The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo,” and rapidly went downhill in parts two and three. There’s no way of knowing how future installments of the Anglo franchise will go, but it’s off to a good start.

The crisp crunch of the snowy Swedish setting is still there, maintaining the stark, icy feel of the original stories. The movie begins with Blomkvist’s (Daniel Craig) humiliation, a loss in a libel case brought against him by a Swedish industrialist. The verdict endangers everything he has worked for, in particular Millennium magazine, where he’s editor-in-chief and head muckraker.

In the midst of this he accepts an intriguing job. Hired by Henrik Vanger (Christopher Plummer), the scion of an industrial dynasty, he is charged with solving a forty-year-old murder. In the late sixties Vanger’s favorite niece disappeared, leaving no trace except for framed, pressed flowers which arrive every year on Henrik’s birthday. It is a cold case, one that the police haven’t been able to solve, but Vanger feels that Blomkvist’s dogged style might be able to uncover some new clues. Aiding the journalist in his search is Lisbeth Salander (Rooney Mara), a trouble computer hacker with a massive tattoo of a dragon on her back.    

Purists can relax, Fincher’s version of the story doesn’t take many liberties with the story. But where the original film was a pulpy exercise in lowbrow thrills—Nazis! Bondage! Revenge Tattooing!—Fincher has smoothed out some of the edges to make a more elegant film.

All the original elements are more or less in place, but he has trimmed down the story shards from the book (and the original movie), condensing the source material’s myriad characters into a more streamlined package.

But he hasn’t taken away the edge. This is a brutal story, no matter how elegant the execution. Rape and violence are part of the tale’s vocabulary and despite a few discreet camera cut-a-ways Fincher doesn’t soften the tone. Months ago they were calling this The Feel Bad Movie Of Christmas, and they weren’t far off (only “New Year’s Eve” disturbed me more, but for different reasons).

The film’s main asset is Mara, who finds the balance between giving the people what they want—the goth clothes, tats, piercings and attitude—and making the part her own. Her take has the same kind of quiet menace Rapace radiated, but adds in a healthy dose of vulnerability and complex anti-social sexuality.

Who’s better, Rapace or Rooney? Who cares? The role is the thing and each woman brings something interesting to one of the most interesting female characters the screen has seen in a long time.

Plummer and Craig do predictably good work and Fincher brings his unerring sense of style, but the movie is Mara’s.

THE ADVENTURES OF TINTIN: 3 ½ STARS

Steven Spielberg has used the most modern performance capture 3D film technology to tell an old- fashioned action-adventure story. Binary code brings us “The Adventures of Tintin,” inspired by a series of comic books created by Belgian artist Hergé, about an intrepid boy reporter and his dog Snowy.

Based on three of the original books, “The Crab with the Golden Claws,” “The Secret of the Unicorn” and “Red Rackham's Treasure,” the movie is a long series of clues strung together to form the story and connect the action scenes. The intrigue begins when Tintin (Jamie Bell) buys a model ship at a flea market. He soon learns his new purchase comes with a steep price when a “sour aced man with a sugary name,” the sinister Mr. Sakharine (Daniel Craig), kidnaps Tintin and his dog. Shanghaied on a cargo ship bound for North Africa they meet an eyelidless sailor (among other unusual characters) and another key player in the mystery, the ultimate drunken seadog Captain Haddock (Andy Serkis). Together they piece together the mystery of the Haddock family curse and why Sakharine was so desperate to lay his hands on the model ship.

Near the end of the movie Tintin asks Captain Haddock, “How’s your thirst for adventure?” If, like the old seadog, you answer, “Unquenchable,” then “The Adventures of Tintin” may be for you. It is paced like the Saturday morning serials that inspired Spielberg’s “Indiana Jones” series.

But this isn’t Indy. It’s more like the Hardy Boys with English accents, more exotic locations and a bigger effects budget. As a character Tintin is more of a catalyst for the action. He asks the right questions and has a skill set beyond his years—how does he know how to fly a plane?—but he’s the least interesting character on screen.

It’s rare to find a modern kid’s movie that uses an alcoholic flashback as a plot point, but “Tintin” goes there and in doing so finds its best character. Andy Serkis as the boozy Captain Haddock is a gem. Perhaps it’s because he’s such an unlikely character in a film like this—not since Dumbo got plastered hallucinated pink pachyderms have the effects of alcoholism been such a major part of a kid’s flick—or perhaps it’s because Serkis is a master of the motion capture. He brings personality to the dots and dashes that make up the physical appearance of his characters, whether it’s King Kong or Gollum.  

But despite the well-loved characters and Serkis’s work, this is a Spielberg movie through and through. Using a mix of motion capture and CGI he is finally able to recreate the giant set pieces he has always been fond of in boldface. The motorcycle chase through a North African town, a plane crash in the desert and a swashbuckling flashback are all spectacular, exhilarating sequences but they feel more Spielbergian than Tintin-ian. I’m not sure if Hergé purists will appreciate the director’s vision imposed on their beloved characters but for everyone else “The Adventures of Tin Tin” is good, escapist fun.

WE BOUGHT A ZOO: 3 ½ STARS

When Benjamin Mee was shopping around for a new family home he ended up buying the ultimate fixer upper, a ramshackle house with an even more ramshackle zoo attached. Director Cameron Crowe has taken some liberties with the true story of a single father turned zookeeper—he relocates the story from Britain to Southern California for a start—but he maintains the most important part of Mee’s journey --the emotional core.

At the start of “We Bought a Zoo” Mee’s (Matt Damon) wife Katherine (Stephanie Szostak) has already passed away. The thrill seeking journalist is cut adrift, left with two young kids, teenage Dylan (Colin Ford) and 7-year-old Rosie (Maggie Elizabeth Jones), and a hankering to change his life. Leaving Los Angeles he buys a rural house nine miles from the nearest Target store, attached to an eighteen-acre property called the Rosemoor Animal Park.

The zoo has seen better days, as have its staff, de facto zookeeper Kelly Foster (Scarlett Johansson) and out-of-control maintenance man Peter MacCready (Angus Macfadyen). Mee’s commitment to the zoo and his family almost bankrupts him financially and emotionally but his commitment to doing the right thing for everyone—the two and four legged characters—puts both the zoo and his life back on track.

“We Bought a Zoo” shouldn’t work. It is too sentimental and manipulative by half but luckily Matt Damon is there to ground the flighty story. Even a postscript (and no, I’m not going to tell you what it is), that even Steven Spielberg would find schmaltzy, works because Damon hits all the right notes.

Johansson is sweet yet strong as the ambitious zookeeper, but like many of the supporting characters her role feels underdeveloped. That’s particularly true in the case of Lily, the farm girl played by Elle Fanning. It’s a likeable performance in search of some meaning within the movie.     

As usual, however, Crowe’s dialogue sings. A father and son argument is a showstopper and you’ll likely never use the word “whatever” again without thinking of this movie.  

Floating above all this is another pitch-perfect Crowe soundtrack, featuring the usual suspects—Neil Yonge and Randy Newman—to the unexpected—Sigur Rós frontman Jónsi.

“We Bought a Zoo” is a crowd pleaser with emotional truth provided by a Matt Damon’s portrayal of the courage not to let grief rule his life. It’s a performance ripe with decency and integrity and it elevates the entire movie.

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.

MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE - GHOST PROTOCOL: 4 STARS

Like a cat, Ethan Hunt (Tom Cruise), the indestructible secret agent star of “Mission: Impossible - Ghost Protocol,” has nine lives. Maybe more. He packs more death defying hero activity into one afternoon than... Scaling buildings and crashing cars, he's always on the go.

There's the usual assortment of exotic locations, international intrigue, beautiful assassins, clocks ticking down to zero, subtitles in various languages, but despite all that, MI4 makes WAY more sense than its predecessors. Clarity of story has never been a strong suit of the MI series, but “Ghost Protocol” trims down the convoluted plots of the first three movies.

The IMF—that’s Impossible Missions Force for the uninitiated—is disavowed after Ethan Hunt and his team Jane (Paula Patton) and Benji (Simon Pegg) are accused of bombing the Kremlin. Under the rules of Ghost Protocol they are left on their own with no support and must go rogue to clear their name.

“Ghost Protocol” is by no means a comedy but there are more light moments--usually courtesy of Simon Pegg--than in all the previous movies combined. There's even a short joke at Cruise's expense.

The jokes are place holders for the wall-to-wall action. If nothing else Ghost Protocol will make you chew your popcorn a little faster. Spectacular set pieces, like Cruise repelling down the outside of the tallest building in the world, and a car chase in a dust storm, should satisfy any action fan.

The various subplots may not, however. Too much time is spent on Jeremy Renner’s back story, a long-winded tale of combat fatigue that reveals a connection to Hunt. The movie is best when it is running and jumping and while the story doesn’t slow the overall momentum, it feels unnecessary.

In the end “Ghost Protocol” has everything you expect from a MI movie. There's action galore, a cool gadget for every occasion, the patented Tom Cruise Run--hands extended, determined look on face, hair blowing from the sheer velocity of his stride--and sneering bad guys.

ALVIN AND THE CHIPMUNKS: CHIP-WRECKED: ½ STAR

I could have been a lawyer. Or a doctor. Or a truck driver, aerobics instructor or even a pastry chef. But instead I ticked off the film critic box on career day and began a journey that brought me to a screening of "Alvin and the Chipmunks: Chip-Wrecked," a movie that chipped away at my will to live.

Once again Jason Lee returns as Dave, the owner, manager and father figure to Alvin, Theodor and Simon, chipmunk singing superstars and their sister group, the Chipettes. On cruise before heading off to the International Music Awards the critters raise havoc before becoming castaways on a remote island inhabited by a stranded UPS worker who has been searching for the island's hidden treasure for ten years. It plays like a rodent "Gilligan's Island," with bits of "Survivor" and "Treasure Island" thrown in for good measure.

"Alvin and the Chipmunks: Chip-Wrecked" isn't a movie, it's marketing, an excuse to sell plush toys and soundtracks filled with chirpy--chippy?--versions of pop hits like "Vacation" and "Bad Romance." (Parents be warned! Buy the soundtrack and spend the holiday season listening to Lady Gaga songs cutified to the point where they make Miley Cyrus sound like Megadeth.)

For all the film's family friendly messages about family and responsibly and the occasional adult joke--"I can see Russia from here!"--I can't help but see these Chipmunk movies as more an excuse to sell products than entertain young minds. I know not all kid's flicks have to have a redeeming social message or an educational angle, but I do think they should aspire to something more than consumer culture.

The film's two main human stars--Lee and David Cross--both started their careers doing much more alternative kinds of work. Lee as a skateboarder and Kevin Smith protégé, Cross as the evil genius behind TV’s “Mr. Show with Bob,” so it must come as a surprise to them how much time they now spend acting opposite furry co-stars whose idea of a great joke is initiating a dance-off with a group of "Jersey Shore" castoffs.

Cross, at least, seems to be in on the joke. He's taking the paycheck and every now and again gets a good line like, "Hate, anger and resentment aren't just the names of a girl group I once signed," but Jason Lee, what is he thinking?

He's a usually charming, edgy and funny performer force fit into the role beloved family entertainer. He fits the part well enough, although, frankly it could be anyone playing the role, but every minute spent working opposite wisecracking chipmunks makes it harder to remember when he made cool movies like Chasing Amy.

As commercials for kids toys go "Alvin and the Chipmunks: Chip-Wrecked" is state-of-the-art. As a movie it's ninety minutes of product placement.

SHERLOCK HOLMES: GAME OF SHADOWS: 2 ½ STARS

When we last saw Sherlock Holmes (Robert Downey Jr.) and Dr. Watson (Jude Law) they had just solved a case involving deadly cult leader Lord Blackwood (Mark Strong). This time around they are against an even more diabolical foe, James Moriarty (Jared Harris), university professor and world class purveyor of world chaos.

The new puzzle begins with the death of the Crown Prince of Austria. Written off as a suicide, Holmes deduces there is more to the story. Enter Watson, who should be on his honeymoon, a beautiful fortune-teller (Noomi Rapace, the original girl with the dragon tattoo), the unspeakably evil Moriarty and more intrigue than you can shake a deerstalker hat at.

The first Guy Ritchie “Sherlock Holmes” movie was an empty but elegant looking thriller that owed as much to the “DaVinci Code” as it did to the detective’s creator Conan Doyle. This time around the glass is half full. Or half empty, epending on your point of view.

There is no question that RDJ and Law bring a certain joie de vivre to the usually staid portrayal of the great detective and his loyal sidekick. They look like they’re having a ball… probably more fun than the audience, in fact.

It’s enjoyable to watch these two riff off one another to a point, but soon it becomes clear the whole movie is a contrivance for their banter.

Every witty line of nineteenth century English that spills casually out of Downey’s mouth and all the action scenes are trailer-ready. Each are

easily consumed in the moment, but soon the film becomes a showcase for the charm of its stars and not a story.

The quips and extravagantly edited sequences are fun in the moment but don't add up to much of a movie. Confused and confusing, the plot zips along at such a rapid pace you'll barely know it doesn't make much sense because Ritchie fills the screen with atmospheric, wildly edited scenes anchored by Downey's flamboyant performance.

As Moriarty Jared Harris has one seminal psycho moment--is there anything crazier than belting out an aria while torturing your nemesis?—and Noomi Repace is eye catching as Sim, but isn’t given enough to do to be truly memorable.

“Sherlock Holmes: Game of Shadows” is handsome big budget filmmaking with charming stars and loads of eye candy. The only thing missing is a compelling story. Maybe next time out (and for sure there will be a next time for Holmes and Watson) the detective can uncover a good story.

YOUNG ADULT: 4 STARS

Every now and again Charlize Theron has to remind us that there is more to her than flashy perfume ads. In "Monster" she showed off her dramatic chops. In her new film, "Young Adult," she goes one better, displaying her rarely seen facility for dramedy, a pitch perfect blend of drama and comedy.

Written by "Juno" scribe Diablo Cody "Young Adult" centers on Mavis Grey (Theron), a ghostwriter of novels for teens. She's a small town girl who made it big in the city, Minneapolis--or "Mini Apple" as he locals call it--but she hasn't matured much beyond the teen queens she writes about. She was the pretty mean girl in high school who was used to getting everything she wanted. trouble is, she's now 38 and things don't come as easily anymore. When an invite to a baby shower from her ex-boyfriend arrives, she decides her route to happiness leads back to her hometown and the arms of her ex.

Like Jason Reitman's other films—"Juno," "Thank You for Smoking" and "Up in the Air"—"Young Adult" is character driven and as much about the drama as it is the laughs.

Theron isn't known for her lighter roles, but reinvents herself as Mavis. She's equal parts "psychotic prom queen bitch" and woman on the edge, teetering between narcissism and alcoholism. Theron nails the part to the wall. It's rare to find a part that balances her etherial beauty against a tragic-comic premise. She has most of the movie's best lines, wears too much make-up, likes to "get loaded" and casually sniffs glue. The casting may have seemed counter intuitive but now I can't imagine anyone else playing the part. Hopefully this expansion of her range means she will never again say yes to movies like Aeon Flux.

Her love interest is played by Patrick Wilson, but the more interesting supporting performance by far is Patton Oswald as a guy Mavis used to ignore in high school. He's funny, bittersweet and brings a great deal of warmth to the movie.

"Young Adult" can’t rightly be called a comedy. It’s not “Bridesmaids,” but will amuse and move in equal doses.

TINKER TAILOR SOLDIER SPY: 3 ½ STARS

Now that the "Harry Potter" franchise has come to an end the British acting community has been forced to look for alternate employment. Luckily for them "Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy" was casting, putting together an ensemble cast comprised of several Potter cast-a-ways and an Oscar winner. The acting is top notch but a serious casting flaw costs the movie much of its suspense.

Based on the John le Carré bestseller the movie begins with a bungled secret mission in Budapest before bringing the action back to the highest levels of British secret service. Veteran spymaster George Smiley (Gary Oldham) is brought back from the Old Spy’s Home to uncover a Soviet mole from within the top echelons of MI6.

It's a world of secret files, Cold War paranoiac intrigue, suspicious glances, loyalty and intelligence gathering. No James Bond stuff here, just pieces of a puzzle being put together from the edges inward. It’s an occasionally complicated story—the BBC made this into a six hour miniseries in 1979-about facts, figures and flashbacks, which is all well and good, except for one fatal casting mistake.

CAUTION! SORTA-KINDA SPOILER ALERT! The key to the story is suspense, which it has in spades, but it tips its hand by casting an Academy Award winner in a seemingly minor role. From the first appearance of this

actor (I'm trying hard not to completely give anything away here) it becomes clear that he is peripheral to the story--or is he? As the intgue comes to a close it’s apparent the high profile actor has more to do with the outcome of the story than director Tomas “Let the Right One In” Alfredson would like you to know. In a world where all is not as it seems he might as well be wearing a big sign that says, "I'm the guy you're looking for!" around his neck.

END OF SORTA-KINDA SPOILER ALERT! One bit of inspired casting is Gary Oldham as the tight lipped but relentless spy, the ironically named George Smiley. Years spent in the Potterverse as Sirius Black haven't dulled his edge. He's a quietly coiled snake, patiently waiting to pounce. Smiley is a character who in lesser hands might have appeared too disconnected, to removed, but Oldham displays a fierce intelligence behind his over- sized bifocals that brings the character to vivid life.

"Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy" is a cerebral thriller. Not much happens--a trio of bullets is about it for the action and it has one of the most melodramatic tears in recent cinema history--but the prolonged suspense will make your palms sweat.

IRON LADY: 3 STARS

The film begins in the present with Margaret Thatcher, the longest serving British Prime Minister of the twentieth century, diminished by age. Once the most powerful woman in Europe she now goes unrecognized at her local convenience store. She daydreams conversations with her late husband and reflects on the past, which leads us into the "greatest hits" biographical format that makes up most of the movie.

What follows is the inevitable mega montage of newscasts, archival footage, snippets from Thatcher's speeches and some behind-the-scenes intrigue all framed by more private moments--both past and present.

It's all rather standard, elevated by a performance which, once again, displays what a great technician Meryl Streep is. She embodies Thatcher, from the flamboyant hair to the ever-present pearls although the real heavy lifting is done in the "lion in winter" scenes. It's there she goes beyond the showy impersonation and becomes an emotional, well rounded portrait.

NEW YEARS EVE: ½ STAR

"New Year's Eve" isn't so much a movie as it is a cavalcade of familiar names in situations geared to make you understand why everybody hates December 31st.

This mishmash of easy sentiment, romance, illness, musical numbers, product placement—Disaronno anyone?—tradition and a version of "I Can't Turn You Loose" that makes the kids from Glee sound like Otis Redding, flip flops from story to story so often it’s like a five-year-old grabbed the remote and is wildly channel surfing.

There’s Robert De Niro as a terminally ill man; Halle Berry as his kindly nurse. Then there’s Michelle Pfeiffer as a dowdy "executive secretary who decides to tackle her unfulfilled resolutions,” and Zac Efron as the courier who makes her reams come true. Hillary Swank is the acrophobic producer of the Times Square New Year's Eve show, Katherine Heigl and Jon Bon Jovi are a caterer and a rock star with a romantic history, Ashton Kutcher as a curmudgeonly cartoonist who gets trapped in an elevator with back-up singer Lea Michelle and even Ryan Seacrest pops up playing—who else?—himself.  

Have I left anyone out? Probably, there are more stars here than in the heavens, but rest assured, by the end of the movie stories have woven together and no hearts are broken.

Like its predecessor "Valentine's Day'" "New Year's Eve" takes a bunch of stars with little or no box office cache on their own—Zac Efron, Jessica Biel—and packages them into one large, over-stuffed package that somehow, in terms of star power, is bigger than the sum of its parts. To quote the movie, "there's more celebrities here than rehab."   

Too bad they are wasted in a movie that is little more than a collection of clichés salvaged from every romantic comedy, Hallmark holiday special and sitcom you've ever seen. From its generic opening song played over generic shots of New York City, every moment of "New Year’s Eve" inspires déjà vu, the feeling of been there and done that.

There are Walmart commercials with more real emotion than director Gary Marshall manages to bring to this manipulative mess. His idea of romance is Josh Duhamel doing the rom com run through the streets of New York as the ball drops in Times Square. His idea of humor is old people saying inappropriate things and by the time Mayor Bloomberg kicks off the New Year's Eve countdown with the words, "Let's drop the ball," its already abundantly clear that Marshall already dropped the ball with this movie.

THE SITTER: 1½ STARS

You’re first clue that “The Sitter” isn’t “Mary Popins” is star Jonah Hill’s name above the title. Hill, the star of “Get Him to the Greek,” “Superbad” and “Funny People,” is no Julie Andrews. The second clue comes in the first thirty seconds of the movie, which cannot be described in this family friendly place without me blushing and turning beet red.

Hill plays Noah Griffith, a university drop out and general coach potato, roped in to babysitting for the neighbor’s kids. Even though he tells the kids-- ten-year-old celebutant wannabe Blithe (Landry Bender), troublemaker Rodrigo (Kevin Hernandez) and anxiety ridden Slater (Max Records)—he’s a “sit on the coach, at a burrito, do what I say or I’ll kill you, kind of babysitter” he takes the kids on a “field trip” to buy cocaine for a girl he has a crush on. Their night out involves accusations of pedophilia, cherry bombs, a baby dinosaur egg filled with drugs, stolen cars, a theft at a Bat Mitzvah and, in the end, like “Mary Poppins” a greater understanding of the importance of family.

What?!

That’s right, “The Sitter” is actually a bit more like “Mary Poppins” than you might first think. But in most ways it’s completely unlike the practically-perfect-in-every-way nanny. Take away the drug turf war, the grand larceny and racial stereotypes and you are left with a movie about familial relationships, doing the right thing, acceptance of others and loyalty. Trouble is the drug turf war, the grand larceny and racial stereotypes take up ninety percent of the movie.

Hill doles out advice like, “You shouldn’t waste your feelings on people who don’t value you,” between buying cocaine and robbing his father’s jewelry store.

I wouldn’t mind the warm-hearted sentiment if it didn’t simply exist as a lame attempt to temper the movie’s raunchier elements. It’s not a kid’s movie by any stretch so why the kid-friendly—and seemingly out-of-character—platitudes from Hill? I don’t think audiences primed for a raunchy comedy will care about the G-rated messages, and the only family who could possibly sit down and enjoy this together would be the Addams Family.

The slapstick is low energy, but at least Hill, in his last role before his extreme weight loss, raises the occasional laugh with his spot on comic delivery, but it’s a not enough to rescue this hybrid of R-rated jokes and family friendly sentiment.

THE ARTIST: 4 STARS

“The Artist,” a new film about old Hollywood, is a silent movie about talking pictures. When we first see star George Valentin (Jean Dujardin) in the movie’s film-within-a-film, a title card reads, “I won’t talk! I won’t say a word!” and so it is for the next ninety minutes.

Beginning in Hollywood before the advent of sound, when we first meet Valentin he is a big star, a screen idol who headlines action-adventure movies with melodramatic titles like “The Thief of Her Heart.” A chance encounter with a pretty girl named Peppy Miller (Bérénice Bejo) sets her on the path of movie stardom in the talkies, just as Valentin’s star fades, ruined by his pride and inability to change with the times. Soon the story takes on “Hollywood Babylon” overtones as Valentin becomes a Hollywood castoff. Will the former superstar end up like Karl Dane and Marie Prevost, real life silent stars, now forgotten? Or will he find the humility to reenter the movies?

“The Artist” could have simply been a glossy tribute to the silent age. The details are all there, the luscious black and white photography, classic soundtrack and the old school 4:3 aspect ratio, but the film is much more than that. Director Michel Hazanavicius has made a joyous movie that shows the tricks of modern day cinema aren’t necessary when you have interesting performances, a good story and chemistry.

Shot on Hollywood sound stages and on locations like the Bradbury Building, “The Artist” has an authentic look and feel, but it is the actors that clench the deal. Dujardin shimmers with charisma as he brings echoes of John Gilbert to the screen and Bejo finds the kind of balance of innocence and vamp that elevated the likes of Clara Bow from starlet to It Girl. To paraphrase Norma Desmond, they don't need dialogue; they have faces! Luckily Hazanavicius allows their faces to do the talking, figuratively, not literally.

Ditto the other members of the star studded cast—John Goodman, James Cromwell, Penelope Ann Miller and Uggy, who hands in the pluckiest on-screen dog performance since Rin Rin Tin was the canine king of Hollywood.

“The Artist” is a treat, a film that forces the viewer to reexamine how we watch movies. Unlike so many of today’s films that do all the work for you, it allows imagination to become part of the experience. Every time you expect dialogue the movie remains silent which prompts the viewer to connect with the characters and the story in a much different way than we are accustomed to. In doing so it becomes one of the most engaging movies of the year.

THE EYE OF THE STORM: 3 ½ STARS

Patrick White’s novel “The Eye of the Storm” is the only Australian book honored with a Nobel Prize for literature, and it is perhaps the novel’s intimidating reputation—and dense prose—that has kept filmmakers away for almost forty years.

The action centers around socialite Elizabeth (Charlotte Rampling), the terminally ill matriarch of the Hunter family. On her deathbed she lives life as she always has, controlling and manipulating everyone around her. That includes her nurses (one of whom is played by the director Fred Schepisi’s daughter, Alexandra), a flamboyant housekeeper and her two sycophantic kids, the lecherous stage star Sir Basil (Geoffrey Rush) and down-on-her-luck princess Dorothy (Judy Davis). Elizabeth has decided to dictate the terms of her passing, Basil has decided to try and bed younger women and Dorothy wants to et her hands on some much needed cash.

There’s a taste of “King Lear” in “The Eye of the Storm.” The similarities in the family dynamic are obvious, but beyond that, there is a theatricality to the movie which works well for the material. Normally I would find the movie’s monologues and posturing distracting, but it is a pleasure to watch Rush, Davis and Rampling clearly relishing the opportunity to immerse themselves in Patrick White’s world.

SHAME: 4 STARS

Michael Fassbender and director Steve McQueen are not suffering from a sophomore slump. Following up their first brilliant collaboration “Hunger”—the story of Irish republican Bobby Sands’s hunger strike—with “Shame,” a story of sexual addiction with lots of movie star nudity, they prove there’s no slump, sophomore or otherwise.

Fassbender plays Brandon, a New York high roller with all the trappings of a perfect life. His shame is also the thing that informs almost everything in his life—he’s a sex junkie. He’s a functioning addict until his sister (Cary Mulligan) unexpectedly comes to stay with him and turns his life upside down.

“Shame” is rated NC17 and with good reason. There is a great deal of nudity, but bodies aren’t the only things bared here. Playing polar personality opposites Fassbender and Mulligan each reveal enough neurosis to keep Psyche 101 textbook writers busy for years.   

He’s tightly wound, ordered in his addiction; a clean freak with control issues. She’s a free spirited musician who, much to his horror, drinks OJ right out of the box. She’s emotional, craving the kind of spiritual intimacy that he replaces with meaningless physical intimacy.

Still, despite their differences, they have a connection. At a nightclub he weeps as she sings a maudlin version of “New York, New York” and a late story development proves he loves her despite his apparent anger at her behavior and the effect she has on his life.   

Fassbender uncovers the inner workings of Brandon, subtly portraying the change in his character as it dawns on him the impact his addiction has on him and those around him. It’s a completely physical performance in and out of the sack. Fassbender shows Brandon’s slow decline through a carefully modulated physical performance that tells us more about the character than pages of dialogue could.

Mulligan is a raw nerve, as emotional as Brandon is detached. The two don’t connect, but there is a bond between them that can’t be broken.

“Shame” won’t be for everyone. It’s explicit and impressionistic, but as a character study it is fascinating, thought provoking filmmaking.

MY WEEK WITH MARILYN: 3 ½ STARS

The Oscar battle of the biopics is in full swing with the release of “My Week with Marilyn.” Michelle Williams hands in exactly the kind of performance the Academy loves. As Marilyn Monroe she turns the camera on Hollywood, playing one of its biggest stars at the peak of her career.

Based on two books by Colin Clark, “The Prince, The Showgirl and Me” and “My Week with Marilyn,” the movie’s main character isn’t Munroe, but Clark (Eddie Redmayne), the third assistant director on “The Prince and the Showgirl” starring Sir Laurence Olivier (Kenneth Branagh) and Munroe. It was the summer of 1956 and Clark was a twenty-three-year-old, who, like the rest of the planet, was smitten with Monroe. The two form a bond, and for a few days it looks like his love for her might actually be reciprocated. Perhaps this should have been titled “The Week I Almost Made It with Marilyn.”

Everyone has been predicting Oscar success for Williams and rightly so, she’s very good, but the bulk of the movie is carried by Redmayne. It is his coming of age story that really fuels the movie’s dramatic arc and his youthful excitement at meeting and, possibly mating with, the movie star is infectious. Of course he’s playing against Williams and Branagh in much showier roles, so I suspect he’ll get the sort shrift attention wise.

As for the above the title stars, Branagh shows two sides to Olivier, the flamboyantly theatrical public persona contrasted against his testy frustration of having to work overshadowed the unprofessional movie star from America. “She’s all instinct, no craft,” he says.

Branagh is very good, but when placed against Williams’s Monroe his work seems to lack the soul she brings to every frame of film. He does have many of the film’s best lines, however. His delivery of lines like, “Trying to teach Marilyn to act is like teaching Urdu to a badger,” is letter perfect and adds much to the movie.

Even almost fifty years after her death Monroe is still one of the best-known actresses in the world. Her famous face adorns everything from wine bottles to Volkswagen commercials, and yet Williams manages to bring something new to someone we thought we knew so well. Her off-screen life, as dramatic as anything she ever did on screen, is tenderly portrayed here but the story isn’t as interesting as the performance.
Williams plays Monroe as a coddled woman-child, crippled by nerves, insecurity, but long on instinct but she goes beyond the little girl lost act so often associated with Monroe. She digs deep, cleaving the role into two parts—the sex-bomb and the vulnerable real life counterpart.

“Shall I be her?” she asks Colin as a crowd descends on them in public. She then shifts effortlessly from the private to the public Marilyn, blowing kisses and turning the flirt up to eleven. But when she is behind closed doors the performance glows. While some of the dialogue is a bit too Psyche 101—“Why do the people I love always leave me?” she pouts at one point—the complexity behind her eyes isn’t.

Williams has perfected playing dour characters in movies like “Blue Valentine,”—so it is a bit of a revelation to see her smile here—but this is something else—well rounded and revelatory.

“My Week with Marilyn” feels a little old-fashioned. The show biz story about, as they say in the film, “a great actor who wants to be a movie star and a movie star who wants to be a great actor,” is overtly theatrical, but Williams brings real soul and heart, handing in the Oscar worthy performance that eluded Monroe in real life. 

SARAH’S KEY DVD: 3 STARS

Near the end of “Sarah’s Key” star Kristin Scott Thomas says, “When a story is told, it is not forgotten.” The story she’s referring to is the Vel’ d’Hiv roundup, a 1942 mass arrest of Jews in Paris by the French police.  To tell the tale “Sarah’s Key” jumps between past and present.

Based on Tatiana De Rosnay's international best-seller, Scott Thomas plays Julie, an American writer in Paris working on an article about the little known incident which saw ten thousand Jews—including 10-year-old Sarah Starzynski (Mélusine Mayance) and her parents—ripped from their homes and sent to internment camps.  While researching the story she finds a connection between her French in-laws and the Starzynski family.

Overlooked on its theatrical release “Sarah’s Key” is getting a well deserved second life on DVD. Although it has a tendency to dip into melodrama from time to time the movie’s story of survival and guilt is buoyed by two remarkable performances.

Scott Thomas is at the center of the movie and delivers a beautifully restrained and natural performance as a woman in an unhappy marriage but it is Mélusine Mayance as young Sarah that brings fire to the movie. Her take on a young girl who escapes from a concentration camp humanizes an unimaginable atrocity.

“Sarah’s Key” is a tearjerker that peters out in its final third, but is nonetheless a potent story of survival.

THE MUPPETS: 4 STARS

It’s time to put on make-up. It’s time to light the lights…. again. For the first time since Muppets from Space in 1999 Kermit and his felt friends are back on the big screen.

The story begins in Smalltown, U.S.A., with brothers Gary (Jason Segel) and Water. Gary is human while Walter is a puppet and the world’s biggest Muppets fan. When Walter tags along with Gary and his girlfriend Mary (Amy Adams) on a trip to Hollywood he is disappointed to discover that the Muppet Theatre has fallen into disorder. Fozzie’s Joke Room is closed for repairs and worse, an evil businessman, Tex Richman (Chris Cooper), has discovered oil under the theatre and because of a clause in Kermit’s contract, plans to tear down the theatre to drill. Gary, Mary and Walter help Kermit put the old gang back together for The Greatest Muppet Telethon Ever to raise the $10 million needed to save the theatre.

It’s been twelve years since the Muppets last visited the multiplex and much has changed since then. The question is, as Kermit says in the movie, is his green turning to grey? In other words is there room for the Muppet’s old-fashioned brand of humor in an increasingly cynical world?

The answer, I’m happy to say, is yes. The movie’s response is to create a tribute act, The Moopets, a rough and tumble Reno show band featuring a razor blade flipping Miss Piggy. They’re a “hard cynical act for a hard cynical time,” says Richman. While the Moopets may better reflect the tenure of today, the Muppets exist to remind us about the importance of concepts like friendship and loyalty while lobbing corny jokes at us along the way.

Star and co-writer Jason Segel combines wide-eyed enthusiasm with some social commentary—“I think kids are smarter than…” Kermit starts to say in a TV pitch meeting before a television executive physically shuts him down—post modernism—the actors and puppets frequently comment on the movie they’re in—and a large dollop of sweetness.

None of it is cloying, however. The film’s sweetness and sentimentality may be from another age but it is self-consciously so. It celebrates its past as much as it looks forward to the future.   

HUGO: 4 ½ STARS

The man who introduced us to big screen outsiders like Travis Bickle and Jake LaMotta isn’t the first person you’d think of to direct a big budget kid’s flick, but Martin Scorsese’s latest film is just that. Based on the graphic novel “The Invention of Hugo Cabret” by Brian Selznick “Hugo” is a sophisticated children’s 3D fanasy. And, it’s also one of the best films of the year.

Set in the 1930s, the new Martin Scorsese mystery is the story of orphan Hugo Cabret (Asa Butterfield) who lives in the walls of a Paris train station. Left a broken antique automaton by his father (Jude Law) the youngster becomes obsessed with repairing the robot. Stealing spare parts from a toy shop the boy is caught and forced to work with the shop keeper’s (Ben Kingsley) niece, Isabelle (Chloë Grace Moretz). When the robot is finally fixed they discover the shopkeeper isn’t just a grumpy old man, but forgotten film pioneer Georges Méliès.

"Hugo" is the kind of movie that could only be made by someone who has studied and absorbed one hundred years of movie art. Scorsese effortlessly pays tribute to what has come before—the staircase at Melies' house, for example, was borrowed from Truffaut's The 400 Blows— but makes it his own. This is the director's homage not only to the filmmakers who shaped his youth--an asthmatic, he passed be time in darkened movie theatres--but to the art form itself.

"Movies are like seeing dreams during the day," Hugo explains to Isabelle. Later Scorsese doesn't hide the fact that he thinks movies are divinely inspired when he introduces a montage of classic clips emanating from a religious themed painting.

I won't go as far as to say "Hugo" is divinely inspired but I will say it is like seeing a dream. There is a sense of wonder imprinted on every frame. Add to that Asa Butterfield's face, reminiscent of the moon faced children of early cinema, the dulcet tones of Christopher Lee, 3D that enhances not overwhelms, and you have a movie about the magic of film with plenty of its own magic.

ARTHUR CHRISTMAS: 2 ½ STARS

When your last name is Christmas you'd better be filled with Yuletide spirit. Luckily Arthur Christmas, the titular star of a new animated holiday flick, is brimming with the tidings of the season. That's a good thing because his father, grandfather and brother--better known as Santa, Grand Santa and Santa-In-Waiting--are positively scrooge-like in their appreciation of the holiday.

In the high tech world of "Arthur Christmas" Santa travels the world in a souped-up sleigh which converts milk and cookies to bio fuel. The modern Kris Kringle (Jim Broadbent) is aided by an army of elves and his eldest son Steve (Hugh Laurie), who will one day take the reigns himself. In the background is the one-hundred-and-thirty-six-year-old Grand Santa (Bill Nighy) who did 70 Yuletide missions on his own. He thinks the new technology reduces Santa to "a postman in a spaceship," and longs for the old days. More supportive is Arthur (James McAvoy), Santa's youngest son, who works in the Letters Department. He's a bumbler, but when one present goes undelivered, he's willing to travel around the world to make sure it arrives before Christmas morning.

"Arthur Christmas" has the look of a slick Rankin and Bass claymation Christmas special. It's computer animation, but without the slickness associated with Dreamworks or Pixar movies. But what it may lack in execution it makes up in subversive good fun.

It tempers the sweetness of its main character with jokes you might not expect in a kid's movie--Grand Santa tells Arthur its not impossible to deliver the present, because "they used to say it was impossible to teach women to read."--the Yuletide "Mission Impossible" style opening is lots of fun and a sequence featuring flying animals and magic dust is positively hallucinatory.

Layered on top of that is a father and son story--who knew Santa isn't good with kids--and the obligatory messages about the virtues of working together, respecting your elders and general kindness.

"Arthur Christmas" is a sweet movie, but ultimately feels like it would have made a better one hour TV special than a feature film.

MY WEEK WITH MARILYN: 3 ½ STARS

The Oscar battle of the biopics is in full swing with the release of “My Week with Marilyn.” Michelle Williams hands in exactly the kind of performance the Academy loves. As Marilyn Monroe she turns the camera on Hollywood, playing one of its biggest stars at the peak of her career.

Based on two books by Colin Clark, “The Prince, The Showgirl and Me” and “My Week with Marilyn,” the movie’s main character isn’t Munroe, but Clark (Eddie Redmayne), the third assistant director on “The Prince and the Showgirl” starring Sir Laurence Olivier (Kenneth Branagh) and Munroe. It was the summer of 1956 and Clark was a twenty-three-year-old, who, like the rest of the planet, was smitten with Monroe. The two form a bond, and for a few days it looks like his love for her might actually be reciprocated. Perhaps this should have been titled “The Week I Almost Made It with Marilyn.”

Everyone has been predicting Oscar success for Williams and rightly so, she’s very good, but the bulk of the movie is carried by Redmayne. It is his coming of age story that really fuels the movie’s dramatic arc and his youthful excitement at meeting and, possibly mating with, the movie star is infectious. Of course he’s playing against Williams and Branagh in much showier roles, so I suspect he’ll get the sort shrift attention wise.

As for the above the title stars, Branagh shows two sides to Olivier, the flamboyantly theatrical public persona contrasted against his testy frustration of having to work overshadowed the unprofessional movie star from America. “She’s all instinct, no craft,” he says.

Branagh is very good, but when placed against Williams’s Monroe his work seems to lack the soul she brings to every frame of film. He does have many of the film’s best lines, however. His delivery of lines like, “Trying to teach Marilyn to act is like teaching Urdu to a badger,” is letter perfect and adds much to the movie.

Even almost fifty years after her death Monroe is still one of the best-known actresses in the world. Her famous face adorns everything from wine bottles to Volkswagen commercials, and yet Williams manages to bring something new to someone we thought we knew so well. Her off-screen life, as dramatic as anything she ever did on screen, is tenderly portrayed here but the story isn’t as interesting as the performance.
Williams plays Monroe as a coddled woman-child, crippled by nerves, insecurity, but long on instinct but she goes beyond the little girl lost act so often associated with Monroe. She digs deep, cleaving the role into two parts—the sex-bomb and the vulnerable real life counterpart.

“Shall I be her?” she asks Colin as a crowd descends on them in public. She then shifts effortlessly from the private to the public Marilyn, blowing kisses and turning the flirt up to eleven. But when she is behind closed doors the performance glows. While some of the dialogue is a bit too Psyche 101—“Why do the people I love always leave me?” she pouts at one point—the complexity behind her eyes isn’t.

Williams has perfected playing dour characters in movies like “Blue Valentine,”—so it is a bit of a revelation to see her smile here—but this is something else—well rounded and revelatory.

“My Week with Marilyn” feels a little old-fashioned. The show biz story about, as they say in the film, “a great actor who wants to be a movie star and a movie star who wants to be a great actor,” is overtly theatrical, but Williams brings real soul and heart, handing in the Oscar worthy performance that eluded Monroe in real life.

THE TWILIGHT SAGA: BREAKING DAWN: 3 STARS

"The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn" packs a lot into its first half hour. There's Taylor Lautner's abs (twenty seconds in), teen brooding, a vampiric confession, an overprotective werewolf and the most anticipated teen wedding of the decade. Well, she's eighteen, he's over one hundred years old but looks like a youngin'. It's the next-to-last in the popular series and takes Twihards to the bedroom and beyond.

In case you don't know this is the episode in which the passionate, but chaste relationship between vampire Edward Cullen (Robert Pattinson) and Bella Swan (Kristen Stewart) become official and sexual. Everyone is pleased with the pairing except werewolf Jacob (Taylor Lautner), the lobo who is loco for Bella. He doesn't approve, but when Bella gets pregnant with her dead lover's baby and a tribe of werewolves vows to kill her, he chooses to follow his heart, not his heritage.

Like the most successful of recent teen movie franchises "Twilight" treats its characters with respect. Their trip from page to stage has been an easy journey, with most of traits that endeared author Stephanie Meyers's creations to readers intact. The movies value the integrity of the characters and I think that is what has kept audiences coming back for more.

It's not because they're great movies. They've gotten better, and this Bill Condon directed episode is one of the best of the bunch--although he pads out the almost two-hour running time with so many music montages I lost count after the deflowering montage--but misses greatness because of its slavish loyalty to the book.

The story readers expect is there--family values intact, even if they are more Addams Family than Family Ties--with traditional morays celebrated, but the presentation of Bella's pregnancy misses an opportunity to explore the darker side of this vampire story. What could have been a cool Cronenberg-style play on body horror instead becomes melodrama with a pro-life twist.

But "Twilight" has as much to do with horror as Pauley Shore does to comedy so I shouldn't expect real scares, but stranger than any supernatural element in the story is its attitude toward the physical relationship between Bella and Edward. Despite containing a tasteful sex scene the movie seems afraid of sex.

What message does it send to the young audience that Bella can declare how happy she is, while covered in bruises after a night of wild vampire get-it-on? And don't even contemplate the horrors of pregnancy, it seems to say.

If it was a horror film the odd messages could be taken for what they are--plot devices--but in this context they read more like unnecessary cautionary tales about the dangers of sex between consenting adults.

"Breaking Dawn" isn't likely to recruit many new Twilight fans, but despite some odd sexual politics should please fans of the series.

HAPPY FEET TWO: 4 STARS

Five years ago I wrote, “Penguins are the new dogs. Not since the heyday of dog movies like Benji and Lassie has one species won over the hearts of so many. “ Penguins were all the rage, appearing in movies as diverse as “March of the Penguins,” the R-rated parody of that movie, “Farce of the Penguins,” family flicks like “Madagascar,” even something called “Penguins Behind Bars” and, of course the Oscar winning dancing penguin movie “Happy Feet.” You couldn’t swing a haddock without hitting a flock of movie penguins, but that was in 2006. The question today is, will people still want to watch waist-coaters do the soft shoe?

“Happy Feet Two” is a series of stories set against a similar theme. Eric (Elizabeth Daily), the son of Mumble (Elijah Wood) and Gloria (Pink) doesn’t have the natural grace of his dad, and like all kids is slightly embarrassed of his old man. Meanwhile Bill and Will (Matt Damon and Brad Pitt), leave the krill swarm, they have grown up in to make a life for themselves in the outside world and the Mighty Swen (Hank Azaria), an odd looking penguin, impresses Eric with his ability to fly. When a catastrophic natural disaster threatens the very existence of the penguin population, however, Eric, the krill and Swen learn what it really means to be a part of something large than yourself.          

The original “Happy Feet” and its sequel don’t look or feel like other movies for kids. Director George “Mad Max” Miller is a maximalist director who opens up the usual kid flick palette with swooping cameras, wide-open vistas and beautifully effective 3D. Featuring a cast of thousands—animated penguins as far as the eye can see and “krillions” of krill—the movie is made on a scale that would make Cecil B. DeMille proud.

Story wise the movie also takes a different approach. It’s a blend of musical theatre—many of the story points are introduced or at last supported by epic tunes—inspired by the Emperor penguins who use heart songs to attract mates—and some traditional family themes—father and son conflict, the importance of family—but Miller also digs a little deeper and really examines why people form families.

Mix in a “free to be me and you” subplot about the consequences of conformity and a subtle environmental message and you have a movie that dispenses with the easy morality of most animated films. Who else but Miller would create Bill and Will, two new bug-eyed characters who can only be described as existential shrimps? Actually they are krill, a tiny marine crustacean, but just because they are small doesn’t mean they don’t have aspirations. And most of the movie’s best lines. They banter back and forth like Ionesco and Beckett discussing the vagaries of their limited lives. “I fear the worst,” says Will, “because fearing the best is a waste of time!” Small but mighty they are a highlight of the film.    

“Happy Feet Two” is a step above most kid’s movies. It is joyful, beautiful to look at, and has more to say about life, love and the pursuit of happiness than most movies aimed at adults.

Go for the penguins, stay for the krill!

THE DESCENDANTS: 4 ½ STARS

George Clooney may be the above-the-title star of “The Descendants,” but the movie cannot rightly be called a George Clooney movie. Although he may get nominated and may even win an Oscar for the performance, this movie belongs to his director Alexander Payne, who once again keenly observes the human condition through his camera lens.

Clooney plays Matt King, a work-a-holic Honolulu lawyer, descendant of Hawaiian royal blood and the heir (along with his cousins) of a huge chunk of valuable, unspoiled land. His life is turned upside down when his wife Elizabeth (Patricia Hastie in cinema’s least rewarding role ever) is gravely injured in a boating accident. He’s always been the “back-up parent,” the distracted dad who left the raising of his two daughters, impulsive Alexandra (Shailene Woodley) and ten-year-old Scottie (Amara Miller), to his wife. Now, Elizabeth’s diagnosis isn’t good, Alexandra is a wildcard and Scottie is acting out. To make maters worse Matt discovers his wife had been having an affair with a realtor named Brian Speer (Matthew Lillard), and was contemplating divorce.

Simply put, “The Descendants” is one of the year’s best movies. Payne keenly observes Matt’s life, effortlessly mixing the heartache, humor and hate which make up the character’s journey. It’s complex but understated, focusing on small moments to create a larger whole that is deeply satisfying.  

Clooney leads the uniformly terrific cast with a performance that puts aside the sly grin and charm that have been his trademarks till now. He’s raw, flawed and heartfelt in his search to rise above the domestic turmoil.

The supporting cast is equally strong. Shailene Woodley is a revelation playing a character trapped between childhood and an uncertain future. In the supporting cast Judy Greer as Speer’s unsuspecting wife, Beau Bridges as a greedy relative and Robert Forster as a grieving father-in-law all leave us wanting more, in the best possible way.

“The Descendants” is a hard movie to define. It’s a contradiction, a dramedy, a drama with comedic elements, but more than that it’s a small movie with big emotions.

JACK AND JILL: ½ STAR

"Hey! There's a new Adam Sandler movie coming out," is the first part of a sentence no discerning movie fan ever wants to hear. That's bad enough but it's the next part that really rankles. "And it co-stars Al Pacino." Yes Virginia, it's been a long time since Pacino’s name was mentioned in the same breath as Brando and DeNiro, but his reputation as one of the great actors of his generation shines a little less brightly today.
 
Sandler plays both title characters in "Jack and Jill." They're womb-mates--twins--who live on different coasts. His California based advertising agency is about to lose their biggest client, Dunkin' Donuts, if they can't convince Al Pacino to appear in a commercial for a new product, the Dunkaccino. Jill is a singleton, having devoted her life to looking after their parents back home in the Bronx. She's the kind of plain talker who says things like, "Are you going bald? No, you getting fat and your hair doesn't realize it has more face to cover." Now the parents are gone and Jill comes to visit, turning Jack's life upside in the process. On the upside Pacino becomes smitten and agrees to do the commercial if he can play twister with Jack's sister.

Sandler has corralled a number of his friends to make cameo appearances--including one of the biggest stars in the world (wearing a Justin Bieber t-shirt), Bruce Jenner and the usual suspects like David Spade--and they get the movie's biggest laughs. The rest of the movie makes some of Sandler's other films, like the odious "Little Nicky," look like the Marx Brothers.

For his part--or rather, parts--Sandler does his usual schick times two. Once in a wig and painted nails and once in his trademark t-shirts and sneakers. We don't expect much more from him, so he doesn't exactly disappoint, but it is hard to understand what Pacino was thinking.

Like Neil Patrick Harris in  "Harold and Kumar go to White Castle" the Oscar winner is playing a heightened version of himself, but his "Pacino related shenanigans" as Jack calls them, aren't funny. Instead it feels like we're witnessing a slow slide into self parody and the movie's references to Stella Adler and Marlon Brando only add insult to... well, insult.

Near the end of the movie Pacino says (SLIGHT SPOILER), "Burn this. This must never be seen by anyone." Certainly not anyone who cherishes his performance in the first wo "Godfather" movies. He is, of course, free to do what he wants, but we are just as free not to watch it happen.

I don't blame Adam Sandler for showcasing Pacino in this way, but I do have some advice for him. If he keeps making movies as bad as "Jack and Jill" he might end up like Pacino--appearing in bad Adam Sandler movies.

J. EDGAR: 3 STARS

Given the significance of J. Edgar Hoover to very fabric of his country it's not surprising that he is the subject of a big screen biopic with a-list talent both in front of the camera--Leonardo DiCaprio in the title role and Naomi Watts--and behind--Clint Eastwood. No, what's surprising is that it to this long. The man credited with creating the modern method of crime investigation died almost four decades ago. It's almost as though he has hidden files on everyone in Hollywood, stashed away. Waiting...

“J. Edgar” spans fifty years, focusing on its subject’s career and the information he both gathered to use as leverage against his enemies and the secret he guarded which could have ruined his carefully constructed image as America’s top cop. Controversial, enigmatic and tyrannical, the power hungry Hoover used his position to bend the law to its breaking point in the name of reform, patriotism and personal glory. Trusty sidekick and constant companion Clyde Tolson (Armie Hammer) and faithful secretary Helen Gandy (Naomi Watts) assist in Hoover’s efforts to build the FBI, find the Lindbergh baby and discredit Martin Luther King, but this is Hoover’s story, warts and all.

"J. Edgar" is a handsome film. Eastwood brings a classic sensibility to the story, shooting on his now trademarked desaturated film stock, which gives an almost sepia tone to the movie, as though we're actually looking at footage from years ago. It's a nice touch that visually establishes a sense of history to go along with the period costumes and sets.

So far, so good. But as J. Edgar himself understood, appearances can be deceiving. Underneath the fine performances--more on those later--and craftsman like filmmaking is... not much. Or too much, depending on your point of view.

Lance Dustin Black's script is ambitious, covering fifty turbulent years, both politically and personally for Hoover. But as the story jumps from decade to decade, interweaving old and young versions of the characters, you can't help but wish Black and Eastwood had chosen one aspect of the story and told it well instead of this scattershot approach. It's a case of too much information and too little insight.

DiCaprio is remarkable--and Oscar worthy--in his ability to convincingly play Hoover over the span of fifty years, although it must be said he is aided by some impressive makeup. Too bad Hammer as Hoover's right hand man—and possible love interest—Clyde Tolson and Naomi Watts as the ever-faithful secretary Miss. Gandy, aren't given the same advantage. Hammer, although effective in his role, resembles a burn victim for much of the movie and Watts, with her running eyes and wrinkled visage, a living Dorian Grey portrait.

The relationships between Hoover and, well, everyone, don't feel genuine and as a result there is no emotional impact when the story could use one. We never get a true sense of why these two faithful companions give over their lives to Hoover, who, at best is a cold, calculating tyrant. Eastwood is clearly trying to create a real person out of Hoover, but having him writhing around on the floor, wearing his mother's jewelry and dress, is a rather melodramatic way to go about it.

IMMORTALS: 3 STARS

Take the best parts of “Troy” and “300” and mix with the excesses of “Clash of the Titans” and you have “Immortals,” a stylish, new Greek mythology drama that effortlessly mixes glistening abs, amour and l’amour.

Loosely based on the Greek myths of Theseus and the Minotaur and the Titanomachy “Immortals” sees a peasant named Theseus (Henry Cavill) on a mission of revenge against the man who killed his mother, the ruthless the Titan Hyperion (Mickey Rourke). Hyperion is searching for the Epirus Bow, a legendary weapon which will allow him to free the rest of his vicious Titans army from their eternal prison. The By law the Olympians—like Poseidon (Kellan Lutz) and Zeus (Luke Evans)—are anable to help, but with the aid of a beautiful fortune teller Phaedra (Freida Pinto) and a slave thief named Stavros (Stephen Dorff) Theseus goes to war.

Greek mythology hasn’t faired well on the big screen in recent years. From 1960s the heyday of the sword and sandal epics Greco-Roman stories have fallen out of favor. Occasionally a movie like “300” will beak through, but that had more to do with the action, violence and considerable physical charms of its cast as it was about the story.
 
“Immortals” has some of the same appeal. The violence is amped—giant hammers squish enemies’ heads in a display unseen on film since David Cronenerg filled watermelons up with fake blood and used shotguns to spray the set of “Scanners” with gore and a castration scene will make at last have the audience very uncomfortable—and the unusually attractive cast is suitably semi-clad, although the Gods look more like club kids ready for a night out at Limelight than deities, but it lacks some of the punch of its predecessor.

Cheesy dialogue is often a trademark of sword and sandal movies, but even Steve Reeves would have a had a hard time uttering, “I am a thief my lady, and if not for these chains I would steal your heart,” as Stephen Dorff valiantly does in mid movie.

Couple that with an emphasis on style above story—it’s a beauty of a movie, every frame designed to look as good as the actor’s sculpted faces—and you have a movie that often feels like a Rubens painting come to life more than a narrative.

“Immortals” tells of another kind of Greek tragedy than the one playing out in the newspapers right now. What it lacks in cohesive storytelling it makes up in beauty, but one can’t help but wonder, if Greece has fortune telling oracles, why didn’t they warn us about the debt crisis?

MELANCHOLIA: 4 STARS

Near the end of “Melancholia,” the latest film from professional crank Lars Von Trier, his star Kristen Dunst wonders aloud if anyone would grieve if the world was gone. It’s the great existential question in a film which may be the most audience friendly study of depression ever.

Von Trier breaks the film into three portions. A montage of strange slow motion images and soaring symphonic music serves as a prologue. In its final image Von Trier lets us known how the story will end, establishing a tension that runs through every frame of the film.

Part One starts off happily enough with a young couple, Justine (Dunst) and Michael (Alexander Skarsgard), on the way to an opulent wedding reception at the home of (Charlotte Gainsbourg), Justine’s sister. Soon, however, it becomes apparent that all is not right. Justine’s inability to feel happiness and her family’s recriminations at the reception ruin the day.

Part Two shifts the focus to Claire. She is obsessed with the news that a newly discovered planet, Melancholia, may be making a bee-line to planet Earth. In this half Justine takes a more passive role as Von Trier explores Claire’s fixation.

I’ve kept the synopsis sketchy because the plot details are less important than the sense of gloom Von Trier builds slowly over the course of the movie’s 135 minute running time. From the haunting images of the prologue to Dunst’s gravely restrained performance the film creates slow grind suspense. It’s a disaster movie in which the end-of-the-world theatrics are secondary to the disastrous relationships on display.  
    
Dunst has rarely been better, and Von Trier’s muse, Charlotte Gainsbourg, is a coiled spring of emotion, and even if they aren’t believable as sisters—they look and sound nothing alike—the strained relationship between them feels real.   

They are the film’s centerpieces, and the best used of all the actors, although Udo Kier as a testy wedding planner steals a scene or two.

“Melancholia” is, undoubtedly, Von Trier’s attempt to visualize his very public struggle with depression. It’s a feel bad movie, heavy with symbolism—Justine literally bathing in the light of the oncoming destruction for example—and in no hurry to explain itself, but in its own claustrophobic, closed-down way is a naturalistic and compelling look at people in distress.  

TOWER HEIST: 2 ½ STARS

Eddie Murphy’s journey from edgy comedian to beloved family entertainer has been rough trip. Kiddie comedies and daddy roles sidelined him for much of the last twenty years, and for every highpoint, like the Donkey character in “Shrek” there is a “Norbit.” For every “Dreamgirls,” there’s a “Haunted Mansion” or “Imagine That.” It’s been tough to be an Eddie Murphy fan, watching his trademarked acerbic comedy dulled by fat suits. Anyway, his transformation was never entirely convincing because Murphy always had too much edge to be Bill Cosby or even Steve Martin.  

“Tower Heist,” his new film with Ben Stiller and an all-star ensemble cast, sees him turning to the style that made him famous in movies like “48 Hours” and “Beverly Hills Cop.” Question is, will audiences still care?

Directed by “Rush Hour’s” Brett Ratner, the movie has a ripped-from-the-headlines story. Allan Alda is Arthur Shaw, a Bernie Madoff character whose Ponzi scheme defrauded his clients out of millions of dollars. Among those burned by his scam were the employees of his luxury high rise. Having lost their pension plan the building’s manager Josh Kovacs (Ben Stiller) concocts a plan to break into Shaw’s apartment and steal his personal $20 million stash. When his posse of employees—Matthew Broderick, Casey Affleck, Michael Pena and Gabourey Sidibe—prove to be less than criminally adept Kovacs brings in an old friend and ex-con, Slide (Murphy) to run the operation.

It's nice to see Eddie Murphy in a movie that allows him to drop his beloved family entertainer guise and bring back some of the bravado that we loved in movies like 48 Hours. It's just too bad the movie feels like it was made thirty years ago. Despite its Bernie Madoff storyline it feels old fashioned.  

For the most part it’s rescued by the chemistry of the cast who bring some much needed fun to this preposterous story.

Of the ensemble Michael Pena and Gabourey Sidibe are the standouts. Pena has great comic timing and perpetual dazed look on his face and Sidibe shows that she can do something other than the ennui of “Precious.”    
 
Also interesting is watching Ben Stiller as the straight man to Murphy's wisecracks. The movie definitely picks up when Murphy is on screen. Loved hearing Murphyisms like, "I will blow your face clean off your face!"

Despite the cast, however, I just couldn't shake the feeling that the actual robbery, despite a few twists here and there was completely unbelievable. I don't mind suspending part of my disbelief but the sheer lunacy of the crime took me out of the movie.

THE WAY: 3 ½ STARS

“The Way” is a way better movie than you would imagine from a director who was once a Brat Packer whose most famous character admitted to taping “Larry Lester's buns together” in “The Breakfast Club.” It’s also a family affair with Emilio Estevez directing his father Martin Sheen in the lead role.

Sheen plays Tom, a complacent optometrist whose adult son (Estevez) is killed in a freak accident while walking El camino de Santiago from France to Spain. After collecting his son’s ashes in France Tom decides to continue his son’s journey and walk the 800 plus km pilgrimage. What begins as a physical trek turns into a spiritual journey as he spreads his son’s ashes and forms a small family of fellow travelers (Yorick van Wageningen, Deborah Kara Unger and James Nesbitt) before reaching his goal of seeing the burial site of the remains of the apostle Saint James at the Cathedral of Santiago de Compostela in Galicia in northwestern Spain.

“The Way” is a road movie. Not the Bob and Bing kind of thing where people burst into song and Dorothy Lamour does the samba, but a movie that really is about the journey and the lessons learned along the way.

Estevez has made a thoughtful film with beautiful scenery, complex characters and just a few too many walking montages. The characters walk and walk, which is fine because mostly they are going somewhere both physically and mentally, but fewer steps might have made for a tighter film.

Estevez allows the story to breath, but sometimes, like the hikers themselves, the story breathes a little too heavily. There aren’t many lighthearted moments here and Sheen brings dignity and gravitas to his role, but clearly several moments meant to tug at the hearty strings fall flat.

“The Way” is a heartfelt and interesting film, that occasionally over reaches but succeeds in telling a life affirming story.
     
TRESPASS DVD: ½ STAR
 
It's not often you find two Oscar winners headlining an almost direct to video movie (it played at TIFF and a week in limited release), but "Trespass" features Nicolas Cage and Nicole Kidman in a movie so forgettable it's possible the studio simply forgot to schedule a run in theatres.

The movie takes place almost entirely inside the multimillion-dollar home of Kyle and Sarah Miller (Cage and Kidman). He's a hotshot real estate agent with a secret; she's a bored Stepford wife. The suburban ennui of their lives is shattered by a home invasion. When Kyle tries to negotiate with the baddies the situation escalates until the lives of everyone are at stake.

As a tribute to the thrillers of the 1980s "Trespass" is on the right track, except for the complete lack of thrills. Told without an ounce of urgency, the story begs for some twists and turns, but they don't come. No twists, no turns, not even a slight veering off course. The movie unfolds in such predictable ways not even Nicolas Cage's usual histrionics can breathe life into this zombified script.

First of all, he's badly miscast. The ideal part for him would have been the lead villain, but it's not the movie star role. His face would have been hidden for much of the movie and he's far from the hero of the piece, but at least he's halfway interesting. Cage's take on Kyle Is so by the book you cold bet paper cuts simply by watching him go through the motions.

As for Nicole... it's time to bring back the fake nose and once again do movies worthy of her talent.

Having said all this, I doubt "Trespass" will hurt the careers of anyone involved because in a couple of months no one will remember this movie ever existed.

PUSS IN BOOTS: 2 STARS

Sometimes less is more. Often a supporting character who flits in and out of the action, brightening up every scene s/he is in, is the cat's meow. But promote that same character to center stage and the results can be as much fun as coughing up a hairball.

In "Puss in Boots" Antonio Banderas gives the character Puss in Boots, the plucky ginger cat, a tenth life as the leading feline in an all new animated spinoff to the popular "Shrek" series. This is a prequel, the origin story of how an orphan cat became a boot-wearing legend, and how his curious friendship with Humpty Alexander Dumpty (Galifianakis) almost killed the cat.

"Puss in Boots" is more an action movie than a comedy, more cute than good. The sharp writing and the fairy tale in-jokes of the "Shrek" series are both MIA, replaced with a standard story with some romance, some intrigue, some action and even a quick lesson in why you shouldn't declaw your cats.

There are some inventive, fun scenes, like a Sergio Leone inspired cat dance fight featuring a move called the Litter Box, and Banderas has a great character voice, but too often the movie is content to take the easy route story wise. Also please, can we call a moratorium on "The first rule of Fight Club" jokes?

Puss in Boots brightened up the "Shrek" movies, but here, a weak voice cast--Zach Galifianakis and Salma Hayek bring little more than name recognition to the roles of Humpty Dumpty and Kitty Softpaws--and an even weaker script render a once effective character neutered.

THE SKIN I LIVE IN: 4 STARS

Proof that Pedro Almodóvar’s reputation as provocateur is secure came after a recent screening of “The Skin I Live In,” his new film starring Antonio Banderas as an obsessed plastic surgeon. As I was filing out another critic came to me and said, “Wow, that was weird, even for an Almodóvar film.” It’s a skin flick (literally) about Oedipal revenge, sex and plastic surgery.

Based on Thierry Jonquet's novel “Mygale,” Banderas plays Robert Ledgard a brilliant plastic surgeon with a troubled life. His luxurious mansion house not only an operating room, and recovery facility, but a dark secret. Hidden from the world is Vera (Elena Anaya), a patient—or is she a prisoner?—who acts as a guinea pig for the doctor’s experiments. He’s trying to perfect a new kind of skin resistant to burns and bites. There’d be no more malaria, no more burn victims. Trouble is, his experiments are completely illegal.

There’s more. Lots more, but part of the please of “The Skin I Live In” is allowing Almodóvar to reveal the story at his own pace. It’s part “Frankenstein (with better skin) or Plastic Surgeons Gone Wild, but all Almodóvar. It’s audacious, diabolical, unexpected and possibly the kind of film Hitchcock might have made, but only in his wildest imagination.

Banderas, in his first pairing with the director in twenty years, is a revelation. His US work, while often successful, is dwarfed by his performance here. Working with Almodóvar and in his native tongue brings out nuances often missing from his English films. It’s an understated but powerful performance that conveys the doctor’s evil compulsions without ever dipping into the Central Casting mad scientist box of personality tics.

He leads the strong cast, including the impossibly beautiful Elena Anaya as Vera and Marisa Paredes as Marilia, the exposition giving housekeeper.

This may not be Almodóvar’s strongest film—it lacks some of the self aware humor of his early efforts and requires massive leaps of faith from the audience—but the man is a master. What it lacks in strong story telling it makes up for in his strong sense of style and audaciousness.

ANONYMOUS: 4 STARS
 
Coming from director Roland Emmerich, you might expect “Anonymous” to be a large scale action movie about the end of the world, a prehistoric beast or giant Japanese monster. Instead the German director has left the disaster motifs of his previous work behind and created a large scale period piece about the importance of literature set against a backdrop of intrigue and sexual peccadilloes in seventeenth century England.
 
With a plot that mixes and matches themes from history and Shakespeare’s plays, “Anonymous” uses the backdrop of the struggle for succession between the Tudors and the Cecils as the Essex rebellion moves against Queen Elizabeth I (Vanessa Redgrave) to set the scene for the debut of Shakespeare’s plays. But were they actually written by Shakespeare?  The movie supposes it was Edward De Vere, Earl of Oxford (Rhys Ifans)—the Anonymous of the title—who penned plays attributed to William Shakespeare. He kept to the shadows to save his family the embarassment of havimg a common writer in their midst and because thee plays were openly critical of the Queen's advisors Cecil and Raleigh.
 
In a story ripe with mystery the only real question is how this got made at all. Big budget Shakespearean movies don’t get made much anymore, so I guess the next best thing is to make a big budget movie about Shakespeare, and Emmerich, despite his tendency to try and juggle too many story threads at one time does a good job at bringing the elegantly filthy world of Elizabethan Britain. Powdered faces, filthy fingernails and velvet jackets abound and the atmosphere adds much to the story.  

This is a sprawling story with many twists and turns. The downside is the film's sketchy casting. In flashbacks the queen and Edward appear to be the same age, but later after a major twist, are revealed to be sixteen years apart. This kind of lack of attention to detail muddies the waters in the flashbacks, making it difficult to follow the story in the first hour. Soon enough, however, all the players are straightened away and the pleasures of the story take hold.

A liberal mix of fact and fiction--there is no real life evidence that the Earl of Oxford penned the plays--"Anonymous" is a twisted tale about how politics and art intersect, and the written word's ability to instigate change.

IN TIME: 2 STARS

"In Time," a new sci fi film starring Justin Timberlake and Amanda Seyfried, is as timely a movie as will be released this year. It's an allegory for the haves and the have nots. In this case 1% of the population controls 99% of the world's most precious commodity--time. Instead of occupying parks, however, our hero JT sets out get time back on his side.

This movie has a lot of time of its hands, or should I say forearms. "In Time" takes place in a world where people are genetically engineered to stop aging at twenty-five. Sounds like Eden, but this is a dystopian world where once the calendar clicks on your twenty-fifth birthday the clock starts ticking. Literally. A digital readout appears on your forearm and you have one year until time runs out. But, because time is money--again, literally--your wages top up your clock, buying more time. When a time millionaire willingly gives Will Salas (Timberlake) a century of his time, Salas finds himself on the run from the Time Keeper police and one step closer to discovering the secret link between immortality and poverty.  

Insert the word "money" for "time" at any point during "In Time" and the story reveals how run-of-the-mill it is. Stripped of its sci fi premise it should have been an interesting comment on the divide between rich and poor but, is instead, content to be a tepid action film. Not smart enough to be an interesting metaphor and not wild enough to be a thriller it falls between the cracks.

JT hands in a performance that makes you wish he would bring the sexy back. The more leads he does in movies, the more i can't help but think his triumph in "The Social Network" was some kind of fluke.

But, as bad as the movie is Amanda Seyfried somehow remains compelling. She is so unusual looking, like an alien cupie doll, and that otherworldliness gives some flavor to her disconnected rich girl character.

Neither is helped by a script which provides as many unintentional laughs as genuine ones and whose idea of witty banter is: "You forget I almost killed you a few times." "I'm willing to overlook that."

“In Time” has an interesting-ish premise, but unfortunately there is not enough quality time in the movie to earn a recommend.

THE RUM DIARY: 2 ½ STARS

Hunter S. Thompson wrote “The Rum Diary” in 1961 before he became the revered gonzo journalist who penned “Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas.” It’s very loosely based on a period of time he spent in San Juan, Puerto Rico in the early days of his writing career, before, as his alter ego Paul Kemp (Johnny Depp) says in the film, he knew “who to write like me.”

So don’t expect the surreal poetry of “Fear and Loathing” or the disjointed charm of “Where the Buffalo Roam.” This is an origin story, the roots of gonzo, but the gonzo spirit of its creator is sadly missing.

Depp plays Kemp using a slight variation on the clipped Thompson accent he made famous in “Fear and Loathing.” He’s a hard drinking, failed novelist who thought he’d try his hand at selling some “words for money” to a newspaper in Puerto Rico. His plan to “lift the stone on the American Dream,” however, is kiboshed by an editor (Richard Jenkins) more interested maintaining the status quo than exposing the country’s ills. Assigned to writing an astrology column Kemp peers into the bottoms of lots of glasses of rum and becomes obsessed with Chenault (Amber Heard), the girlfriend of a shady PR man (Aaron Eckhart).
 
Kemp is a struggling writer, an artist still struggling to find his voice, which echoes the main failing of the film. Despite a director, Bruce Robinson, who made one of the funniest and best films about boozing (“Withnail and I”) and Depp’s close friendship with Thompson, the movie feels as if it is searching for a purpose. A voice. Despite the presence of a Hermaphrodite Oracle of the Dead, countless ounces of rum, one drug trip and some major movie star mojo from Depp, the movie falls flat.

It’s a story about perception—Eckhart’s PR man is selling one vision of the island, Kemp wants to reveal another—and how gazing into that chasm helped Kemp discover his voice and integrity but in the end it is neither the savage indictment of lazy journalism it should be, or (because of an ambiguous non-ending) the celebration of the power of the written word it couldn’t have been.

As the main curator of Thompson’s cinematic legacy Depp breathes some life into Kemp, although by times the broad performance feels at odds with the tone of the rest o the story.

As for the rest of the cast, Michael Rispoli embodies the boozy spirit of the piece. Giovanni Ribisi goes one swig over the line and will someone please give Amber Heard a job on “Mad Men?” Her face screams 1965.

Of course the film’s main character’s name is Paul Kemp and it takes place before the finely crafted persona of Hunter S. Thompson came into being but a healthier dose of the writer’s “ink and rage” might have given “The Run Diary” the spark it needed to really ignite.

THE THREE MUSKETEERS: 2 STARS

"The Three Musketeers," a new 3D look at an old story, misses an opportunity to inject some much-needed spark into its storytelling by focusing on the wrong characters. In thirty some odd cinematic retellings of the classic Alexandre Dumas tale of bravery and swordplay, the focus has always been on the men. The new version finally features some grrrrl power, but squanders a great character by not giving her enough to do.

Shot on sumptuous sets in Germany, the first half of the film adheres closely to the Dumas novel. When we first meet D'Artagnan (Logan Lerman) he is a brash young man, leaving the countryside on his way to Paris where he intends to become one of the legendary Musketeers, just as his father had been. The elite swordsmen -- Athos (Matthew McFadyen), Porthos (Ray Stevenson) and Aramis (Luke Evans)-- however, have fallen on hard times. Warriors with no war to fight, they have become obsolete, more prone to drinking and womanizing than doing the King's bidding. Soon enough the four men find a reason to pick up their swords again in the form of an English enemy, Lord Buckingham (Orlando Bloom), a devious holy man, Cardinal Richelieu (Christoph Waltz), the double crossing Milady DeWinter (Milla Jovovich) and the disappearance of the Queen Anne Diamonds.

"The Three Musketeers" looks beautiful, with costume and set decoration second to none, but beauty, as we all know, is only skin deep. It's what's underneath that really matters, and unfortunately, there's not much under the surface.

The Musketeers themselves are empty suits, beautifully costumed without any substance. Only ray Stevenson as the head-bashing Porthos brings any sense of adventure or fun to his character. The rest are seat fillers for actors you would have rather seen in these roles. The silky-voiced McFadyen makes one wonder what Alan Rickman could have done with this role, while Evans begs comparison to no one because he barely registers. Lerman, the film's lead, is a pretty face delivering lines ... badly.

Even Orlando Bloom, who some "Pirate of the Caribbean" style experience with this sort of epic story is mostly distinguished by his Elvis-bedhead hairstyle. Even Waltz, who has playing a bad guy down to a science, fails to really make an impression.

The men mostly strike out but Jovovich as the film's resident evil character, the double-crossing Milady, is tons of fun but underused. Flip-flopping her loyalties she's a dastardly, but underused, piece of work. If she—and her stylish corsets and even more stylish fight scenes—had been the star of the show "The Three Musketeers" might have been able to distinguish itself.

As it is it's simply a retread of an already familiar story mixed with "Wild Wild West" style anachronisms -- the old school airships, for instance, have been done before and better in "Time Bandits" -- which makes the sequel-ready ending seem overly optimistic.

PARANORMAL ACTIVITY 3: 3 1/2 stars

I'm a bit of a sucker for things that go bump in the night. The "Paranormal Activity" movies have made a series (and a fortune) playing up on the fear of noises in the dark. The sound in the kitchen. The rustle of a curtain when the window is shut. No other movies have made the switching on and off of a light so sinister. Now, even though the series should be a little long in the tooth by now, the inventively named "Paranormal Activity 3," still made me jump.

As Southside Johnny would say, "Third verse, same as the first." The new film is a prequel to the first films and follows the template set by the first two movies. Set in the VHS era of 1988, recurring characters Katie and Kristi Rey are little girls, living with their mother (Lauren Bittner) and her boyfriend (Christopher Nicholas Smith), a wedding video editor. When they start hearing strange sounds in their new Carlsbad, California house, he sets up video cameras to find out what's keeping them up at night. The movie asks the question, Is the boyfriend obsessed or is the house possessed?

"Paranormal Activity 3" is 99 per cent anticipation, 1% payoff, but the 1 per cent is pretty good. I think the low-fi feel of the movies -- the picture really does look like home video most of the time -- combined with really natural performances from unknown actors make the "Paranormal Activity" movies feel like real "found footage" movies. Most movies of the genre are a little too slick. These aren't. There's no music, no stars and it feels like you're watching something that could be real.... almost.

I say almost because the premise is stretched a little far in number three. Why does the boyfriend videotape things when he should be running for his life? But the underlying idea that these demons (or whatever they are) terrorize the characters at home, usually at night during the sleeping hours when they are most vulnerable, is still effective and giddy ghouly good fun.

DIRTY GIRL: 2 1/2 stars

I liked "Dirty Girl" more last year when it was called "Easy A" and starred Emma Stone, but despite its similarity to that year old comedy, it has one very big thing going for it -- the scrappy charm of star Juno Temple.

It's 1987 in a small god-fearing town. Temple plays Danielle, the school dirty girl who reluctantly befriends an overweight, gay classmate Clarke (Jeremy Dozier). They are two kids who go on a road trip, one who wants to reconnect with a father she's never met and another who wants to get away from a father he knows all too well. Their friendship dulls her hard edge and allows them both to be themselves.

The "Easy A" reference comes from the early part of the film. Danielle does Clarke a kindness and pretends to be his girlfriend so his homophobic father (Dwight Yoakum) will leave him alone. Beyond that it plays like a low budget, raunchy John Hughes comedy. It deals with real issues -- teen rebellion, abandonment and coming out of the closet -- but for every moment that feels authentic there are two more that feel forced or farcical.

Temple rises above it all with bluster that covers real vulnerability. It's the kind of performance that gets young actresses noticed. Too bad it is in such a lackluster movie. Not to worry, though, we'll see much more of her in the new "Three Musketeers" reboot.

FOOTLOOSE: 3 STARS

When I went to high school people didn’t dance as much as they swayed, or maybe gyrated when the music really hit them. The adventurous among us occasionally tried the Hustle or the Bump, but that was about it. According to “Footloose,” a remake of the 80s classic from “Hustle and Flow” director Craig Brewer, now-a-days high school seniors have moves that would make Mikhail Baryshnikov green with envy.

Ren MacCormack (Kenny Wormald) is a big city kid forced by circumstance to move to the small town of Bomont, Georgia to live with his uncle. He’s a rebel who soon finds a cause in town. Three years prior a group of teens were killed in a car crash after a dance. In reaction the town banned public dancing, amplified music and other rites of teenage passage. Ren, a former gymnast and dancing fool, challenges the law, butts heads with the local preacher Reverend Shaw Moore (Dennis Quaid in the John Lithgow role) and falls in love with the minister’s daughter Ariel (Julianne Hough). Will the town lift the ban? Will the love birds ever get to break dance in public?  

“Footloose” is a little grittier than you would imagine a movie starring Ryan Seacrest’s girlfriend to be. Director Brewer’s roots are in indie filmmaking and it shows. The slickness normally associated with contemporary teen fare is by and large missing here, replaced with the steamy Southern feel that permeates his other films. You won’t hear a line like, “You’re sexier than socks on a rooster,” in any of the “Twilight” movies.

MacCormack and Hough shine the brightest when they are in motion on the dance floor, but Miles Teller as Willard (played by Chris Penn in the original), Ren’s dance-challenged best friend steals the show on and off the dance floor.   

Rebooting a well-loved classic is a tricky business. Brewer has wisely not messed with the formula too much. There are slight changes, Ren is now from Boston instead of Chicago, the tractor game of chicken from the original is now a bus race and the dancing has been updated but upbeat rebellious core (and most of the songs) of the ’84 movie is intact.
   
TAKE SHELTER: 3 ½ STARS

Fear of the end of the world is a predominant theme at this year’s Toronto International Film Festival. I blame the Mayans. Lars Von Trier’s “Melancholia” is a study of depression and family dysfunction set against a backdrop of impending disaster and “Taking Shelter,” starring “Boardwalk Empire’s” Michael Shannon and Jessica Chastain explores pretty much the same thing but from a much different point of view.

Shannon plays Curtis a hard working husband and father who begins to have visions the apocalypse.

Plagued by nightmares, hallucinations and panic attacks, the terror he feels extends beyond his dreams. “It’s a feeling,” he says. “Something is coming.” He can’t describe what it is coming but finds solace by building a storm cellar in his backyard, a sort of panic room for him and his family to hide in when the end of the world comes. But a question remains: Is he mentally ill or is he a prophet?

“Take Shelter” is a strong effort that is marred by a disingenuous ending that feels like a cheat compared to the rest of the film. I won’t tell you what it is, and it didn’t sour me on the whole film, but it was a disappointment.

Other than that—maybe go and get a popcorn refill I the last five minutes of the film!—there’s much to enjoy here. Shannon has usually been seen playing larger-than-life characters so it’s refreshing to watch his empathic work as an everyman who doesn’t understand what is happening to him. Motivated by a great fear we feel his anxiety grow as the character surrenders his self control.

Chastain in her fourth movie this year once again proves she is as versatile as anyone working today. She brings strength, resilience and purpose to a character that could have been very one note.

“Take Shelter” is an interesting movie with beautiful cinematography, effective performances and an intriguing story. Too bad it sells itself short in the closing minutes.

THE BIG YEAR: 3 STARS

Not since The Beverly Hillbillies' Miss Jane has there been such a bird crazy character. "The Big Year," a new comedy starring the tryptic of comics Steve Martin, Jack Black and Owen Wilson, is based on a true story of birders trying to break a world record.

"This is a true story," the opening credit reads. "Only the facts have been changed." Wilson is Bostick, the world's best birder (they don't like being called bird watchers). He is the king of The Big Year, an annual competition to see the greatest amount of birds in North America in a calendar year. There's no prize other than bragging rights, but, jokes Brad Harris (Jack Black), "the bird seed endorsements are huge." The film follows Bostick and the efforts of two newcomers to the Big Year, Stu (Martin), a wealthy CEO who is finally taking time to smell the roses and look at the birds, and Harris, an unhappy office grunt who loves anything that flies, as they vie for the top spot.

Whether or not audiences will migrate to "The Big Year" depends on their tolerance for a soundtrack stuffed like a Thanksgiving turkey with bird songs like a jazz version of "Blackbird," and the trio of leading men.

Each plays to his strength. Black provides the slapstick, martin is the silver haired charmer and Wilson plays the edgy jerk he's perfected in movies like "Drillbit Taylor." The three different styles work well together even though nothing about it really feels fresh. Despite its subject it never really takes flight. There's a more ripple of giggles throughout but the big laughs are fewer and further between. Surely some Blue Footed Booby jokes could have spiced things up just a bit.

Having said that, "The Big Year" is enjoyable enough, particularly if you like footage of our fine feathered friends. The final third tugs at the heart strings when it becomes more about the characters than their birding obsession. Not really memorable, but at least it’s not another installment of Martin's dreadful Inspector Clouseau series.

REAL STEEL: 2 STARS

Part Rock'em Sock'em Robots, part “Rocky” with a dollop of “Transformers,” “Real Steel” is a family drama about redemption, romance and robots.   

Hugh Jackman is Charlie Kenton, a former boxer left behind when the game changed. To keep up with audience demand for more action promoters axed human fighters, replacing them with behemoth thousand pound battling bots. Kenton and his broken down robots barely eke out a living on the circuit, but he sees a chance at making some quick cash when his estranged son reenters his life.

Kenton makes a deal to sell his son for $100,000 to a wealthy relative. The glitch is the adoptive couple will be out of town for the summer, so he’ll have to spend three months with young Max (Dakota Goyo) until he can collect his cash. The kid turns out to be a chip off the old block—stubborn and cocky—but he loves boxing almost as much as Kenton does. When they uncover a robot named Atom at a junkyard they bond in ways neither could have imagined.

“Real Steel” is a strange movie. It’s a father-and-his-son-underdog-romance-redemption-road-trip movie with robots. The funny part is almost all the individual elements work well enough, but when they are slapped together something seems wonky.

The father and son bonding aspect works well enough, although I think if this was real life, child protective services might disagree with me on that one.

The underdog story is predictable, but who doesn’t like a bit of redemption?

The romance and the road trip aspects are played down, but are both important to the story.

Trouble is the movie is so thick with syrup—even the robot Atom has a heart of gold—that it feels like director Shawn Levy has a tendency to let his inner Spielberg get the better of him. By the time little Max says to his estranged father and boxing coach, “I just want you to fight for me… it’s all I’ve ever wanted,” the metaphors are flying thick and fast.

The movie tries to be all things to all potential audiences, and, as a result, feels like less than the sum of its parts.  

Sports movies are never about the sports, they’re always about the subtext but here you have boxing robots! That’s something new—they’re not exactly Transformers—but the story insists on ignoring the cool characters—like the robot Zeus, the mechanical Mike Tyson—and focus on the more predictable aspects of the story instead.   

THE IDES OF MARCH: 3 ½ STARS
 
In “The Ides of March,” George Clooney (who also directs) plays a Democratic Party candidate. He’s the kind of guy who would make the top of Bill O’Reilly’s head pop off. He’s pro-ecology, anti-oil. He wants to tax the rich and legalize gay marriage. If he leans any further left he'll topple over. Although Clooney has spoken out about many of these topics in real life, hasn't made a left wing fm. Instead he's made a warts and all political movie.
 
The movie focuses its story on Stephen Myers (Ryan Gosling), an idealistic campaign manager who will do anything to win, as long as he truly believes in the candidate. He is devoted to Governor Mike Morris (Clooney), a candidate in the Democratic primary. The first hour is spent getting into the campaign, learning the machinations of a big league primary run, the behind the scenes. Clooney sets up the themes of the piece--loyalty, ethics and the hard edge that comes from playing in the bigs--before taking a right turn--story wise, not ideologically--into different territory.

I'm not going to give away the twist, but it is really then that the movie picks up steam. The first hour is good stuff, great acting from Paul Giamatti, and P.S.H. and a fascinating, if occasionally dry look at life in the political fast lane. Then comes the blackmail, the meetings in darkened stairwells and double crossing journalists.

Gosling impresses as he makes his way from idealism to stark realism, and Clooney looks like he was born to sit in an oval office, but it is the supporting cast who really shine.

Giamatti and Hoffman reek of the backroom. They play opponents but are cut from the same cloth, men who are two steps ahead of everybody else in the room.

“The Ides of March” takes a bit too long to get to the game changing moment, but when the acting is this good, it’s worth the wait.

FRENCH IMMERSION: 2 STARS

It’s hard to know how the ROC will react to “French Immersion,” a new comedy from the makers of “Bon Cop, Bad Cop.” ROC, if you don’t know, is Rest of Canada, a term the small town French characters in the film use to describe any part of the country that doesn’t fall within Quebec’s borders.   

“French Immersion” sees a disparate group of five English speakers—a chef (Jacob Tierney), a flight attendant (Olunike Adeliyi), a mailman (Fred Ewanuick), a firefighter (Martha Burns) and a Member of Parliament (Gavin Crawford)—enroll at a language camp in a remote town to learn French and have a Quebecois experience. That means no English, not even “American Idol” on TV. One by one they become immersed not only in French culture but in the crazy goings on in this deceptively quiet town.

“French Immersion” is a willfully silly movie about a subject that lies at the very center of Canadian culture. It’s an equal opportunity bilingual comedy which gently, but not so subtly, pokes fun at both sides of the language issue.

It plays like a silly sitcom and like a sitcom if you scratch the surface there's not much underneath. Despite tackling one of the country's most divisive topics it doesn't add much to the language debate other than a few one liners like "I love Canada, but I hate the English.” 

50/50: 4 ½ STARS

50/50, as Kyle (Seth Rogen) says, is pretty good odds. “If you were a casino game you’d have the best odds!” But he’s not a casino game, he’s Kyle’s best friend Adam (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) who has been diagnosed with a rare form of cancer.

Twenty-seven-year-old Adam is a clean living guy. Doesn’t drink, doesn’t smoke, he even recycles but yet after having some back pain a routine check-up reveals he has a rare form of cancer. The main people in his life, girlfriend (Bryce Dallas Howard), best friend (Seth Rogen) and mother (Anjelica Huston) all react in their own, distinct ways. Only two fellow chemotherapy patients (Philip Baker Hall and Matt Frewer) seem to understand what he is going though. A bubbly but inexperienced therapist (Anna Kendrick) provides some comfort, but may not be able to keep a professional distance.

Cancer is no laughing matter, we all know that. But “50/50” breaks taboos left and right, using Adam’s cancer as the basis for a comedy. Luckily it’s tempered with great performances, a smart script and real emotion. There’s no a false moment thanks to a script written by Will Reiser, the real life inspiration for the story. Reiser, a pal of Seth Rogen (who also produced the movie) and cancer survivor, finds just the right balance between mortality, romance and cancer jokes—one character says the more syllables the name of your tumor has, the worse it is—in a script that will have you laughing and crying at the same time.

Gordon-Levitt is the film’s centerpiece, giving a natural, authentic performance as a person facing his own mortality even though he can’t quite believe he’s in that situation.

Rogen, not surprisingly, is the comic relief. Once again, after getting sidelined by super hero movies and the like, Rogen is doing the work that reminds us why we liked him in the first place. As Adam’s skirt-chasing best friend he’s lewd and rude but he’s also brimming with warmth. His talent is his likeability.

The rest of the cast performs well. Bryce Dallas Howard, who seems to be making a career of playing villainess characters, brings her a-game. Ditto Angelica Houston who breathes life into Adam’s over dramatic mother. Kendrick also impresses as the therapist in over her head both professionally and personally.

“50/50” is a unique film. It takes a realistic approach in portraying a cancer patient’s life, but doesn’t forget to present a fully rounded view. It never pokes fun, but also doesn’t deny its darkly (and not so dark) humorous moments.   

MACHINE GUN PREACHER: 2 ½ STARS

“Machine Gun Preacher” is set in a world where the line between mercenary and humanitarian is very thin. Gerard Butler plays the title character, a man who preaches fire-and-brimstone and can shoot the tail feathers off an ostrich at fifty yards.

When we first meet Sam Childers (Butler) he’s a tough guy fresh out of jail. He finds that old habits die hard—especially old drug habits. When his hell raising ways catch up to him something remarkable happens; he finds God. The former biker shifts gears and becomes a model citizen, even funding and building his own church. A sermon about the plight of Sudanese children prompts him to become a crusader for thousands of orphaned African children. He earns a reputation as a gun toting savior but his faith is severely tested when all his efforts to save the children seem to be for naught.  

“Machine Gun Preacher” is based on the real life story of Sam Childers, a former trigger-happy biker who founded the Angels of East Africa orphanage. It’s a very compelling story, almost in the territory of stranger than fiction, but this fellow’s colorful life hits a few rocky patches in its translation to the screen.

In an effort to hit all high points of Childers’s life director Marc “Monster's Ball” Forster speeds through the early part of the story, the transformation from hellion to angel, very quickly. The conversion is a crucial plot point and if we don’t buy into it we’ll have a hard time being on side for the rest of the story.

The rest of the movie skips and jumps around as well, as though it was cut down from a much longer movie. Luckily it moves along at such a clip that the strange blend of revenge and religion is never given the chance to settle for too long. That’s a good thing because it’s an uncomfortable mix. One minute he’s preaching, the next he’s gunning down Sudanese rebels. He’s Rambo with a bible.

The movie is inspirational and shines a light on some poignant issues, but feels more movie-of-the-week than serious drama about a man’s transformation.

Butler brings some intensity to the role, but Michael Shannon and Michelle Monaghan, as the junkie biker who learns to walk a different path and the born again ex-junkie stripper wife respectively, are wasted in roles that give them little to do.  

“Machine Gun Preacher” suffers from playing fast and loose with the events that lead up to the story’s main thrust—one man’s ability to change not only his life, but the lives of people around him—and as a result the transformation doesn’t have the impact it should.

WHAT’S YOUR NUMBER?: 3 STARS (FOR ANNA FARIS)

I'm not going to suggest “What's Your Number?” is a great, or even good movie. It has a typical rom com plot gussied up with some Judd Apatow style barbs and some gratuitous shots of its almost naked stars, but it also has Anna Faris, and for me that's enough. She has crack comic timing and an unpredictable way with a line that takes a Kathryn Heigl level script and turns it into something watchable.

Faris is Ally, a young Bostonian with a bad relationship track record. Weeks before her sister is due to tie the knot she reads a magazine article which suggests the number of sexual partners a woman has had will determine her romantic success later in life. More than twenty, it says, and you have virtually no hope of ever settling down. She does the math and realizes she’s in the danger zone. To prevent going over twenty partners she revisits all her ex-boyfriends in hopes of finding a husband.  

“What’s Your Number?” is a strange movie that mixes and mingles both the standard old cell phone switcheroo plot device AND edgy rape jokes. It doesn't have the laughs of an Apatow movie or the heart... but once again, I'll say it, it has Anna Faris.

Faris is working hard here, playing against a script that casts her as the most clichéd of all rom com characters, a desperate woman on the hunt for a man. She’s a harlot with a past but her male next door neighbor (Chris Evans), who has hundreds of notches on his bedpost, is a charmer who simply hasn’t found the right woman yet. Just another example of how wrong headed the sexual politics of rom coms are, even in 2011.   

A love scene with a puppet and Andy Samberg is a highlight and one of the things—did I mention Anna Faris?—that make this movie almost special. There are just enough funny scenes (and shots of co-star Evans's abs) to almost make this an in-the-pocket rom com, but then the good stuff is followed by long stretches of by-the-book writing. It's a shame to see this kind of potential wasted.

BREAKAWAY: 1 STAR

Two things occurred to me while I watched “Breakaway,” a new hockey comedy set against Toronto’s cultural mosaic. 1. Russell Peters does the worst drunk impression ever. 2. Only one letter separates the word “hokey” from “hockey.”

Vinay Virmani plays Rajveer Singh a first generation Canadian with a passion for hockey and a father (Anupam Kher) who wants him to join the family trucking business. Determined to follow his dream, he cobbles together a team, the Speedy Singhs, and takes on the reigning Hyundai Cup champs. Cultures clash on and off the ice as his traditional father pushes him toward devotion and truck driving and the predominantly white hockey league looks down on his team.  

It’s amazing that a country which professes to love hockey makes such lame movies about the sport. Ripe with sports clichés—goals scored just as the buzzer rings, determined underdogs and a life flashing in front of a player’s eyes as they storm down the ice—bad puns—Mahatma Gretzky anyone?—and jokes so old they were moldy when Bob and Bing used them seventy years ago—“You just have to stay positive.” “Oh, I’m positive. Positive we’re going to embarrass ourselves!”—“Breakaway” isn’t so much a story but a place where sport movie truisms go to die. The movie has some heart, but feels like an echo of many other sports movies, most noticeably “Bend it Like Beckham.”

There is probably a good movie to be made about the colour wall of hockey, or the first generation Canadian experience of the game but “Breakaway” isn’t it. 

ABDUCTION: 1 STAR

In "Abduction," "Twilight" werewolf Taylor Lautner is Nathan, a typical teen who discovers his life isn't what he thought it was when he finds a photo of himself on a missing person's website. His investigation into the origin of the picture makes him a pawn in an international game of intrigue involving the CIA, an encrypted text message and the pretty girl from next door.

There is a certain percentage of the population who would pay to Lautner stand shirtless in a field, abs rippling in the wind. That would be a better movie than "Abduction." He's got the teen angst eye roll down to a science but other than that hands in the most wooden performance since Geppetto carved Pinocchio out of a block of oak.  Beware of woodpeckers.

He's in every scene and despite a tense fight scene here or a loud gun battle there; "Abduction" is sunk by bad acting and even worse dialogue. Even old pros like Alfred Molina and Sigourney Weaver can't get past lines like "there's a bomb in the oven," one of the most hilairously bad lines this year.

"Abduction" will leave you wondering how, exactly, that bomb got into the oven and how exactly, this bomb made it into theatres.

MONEYBALL: 4 STARS

“Moneyball,” the new sports drama starring Brad Pitt and Jonah Hill, begins with the Mickey Mantle quote, “It’s unbelievable how much you don’t know about a game you’ve played all your life.” The legendary New York Yankees outfielder and first baseman played eighteen seasons in the big leagues but likely wouldn’t recognize the game as played in this behind-the-scenes drama.

Based on the book of the same name by Michael Lewis, Pitt plays Billy Beane, the real life General Manager of the Oakland A’s. Faced with having to piece together a pro team with a budget a fourth as large as the New York Yankees he breaks with one hundred years of baseball tradition—using scouts, instinct and guts—to find a scientific method to build a team on the cheap. With a Yale trained economist (Jonah Hill) he creates sabermetrics, a mind boggling combination of facts, figures and computer algorithms to recruit his team.

It all sounds very dry, but so did "The Social Network" before you actually sat down and watched it. "Moneyball" takes what cold be a dry subject of baseball stats and spices it up with complex, interesting characters, a compelling human story while leaving the usual sport’s movie clichés behind.

It moves at about half the speed of "The Social Network" but that's OK we're not dealing with the fast moving world of cyber space here but the more relaxed pace of America's favorite pastime.

But this isn't a baseball movie. Pitt and Hill, in a rare serious role, dominate the movie with their behind the scenes stories. Like "The Social Network" "Moneyball" places the onus on the characters and not the technology that drives the story. We've seen baseball movies before, but we've never sent the game from this angle. It's a new take on the game, one that may leave Mantel scratching his head but should leave audiences rapt.

DOLPHIN TALE: 3 STARS

There's been boy-and-his-dog movies before and earlier this year James Franco starred in a-boy-and-his-chimp movie but  not since "Flipper" has there been a boy-and-his-dolphin story on the big screen. "Dolphin Tale," a new movie based on the real life relationship between a lonely boy and an injured bottlenose dolphin, is an aquatic love story for kids.

Inspired by the true story of a dolphin named Winter rescued off the Florida coast, the movie stars Nathan Gamble as Sawyer as a young boy who finds the injured dolphin stranded on a beach. Taken in by the Clearwater Marine Aquarium the fish loses his tail to infection but a VA prosthetic designer, an Iraqi war vet and some very determined kids are determined to put a new end on this tale. By the time the kids start praying to their dead parents for help, literally no stone, natural or supernatural has been left unturned in seeking help for this dolphin

Despite its PG rating "Dolphin Tale" is gently paced family entertainment. Feeling like old school live action Disney, it wears its heart on its sleeve as well as a rubber tail on its main character. It sometimes stretches a bit too far in search of a big moment, but without a cynical bone in its body it never seems too cloying.

Director Charles Martin Smith blends in several story threads guaranteed to pluck at the heart strings. There's precocious performances from the kids, a cousin who comes back from Iraq with an injury and, of course, the brave and plucky dolphin. It's old fashioned in its enthusiasm and heartfelt in its tone, which might not appeal to kids who demand the thrills of recent kid's entertainment, but with its messages about cooperation, loyalty and rights and respect for disabled, it wholesome entertainment.

KILLER ELITE: FOUR STATHAM STARS; 2 ½ STARS FOR EVERYONE ELSE

Statham has made this movie several times before. Different title, and usually without the big name supporting cast—Robert De Niro and Clive Owen—but the story of a tough guy who wants to go straight is directly in the actor’s wheelhouse. Either Statham is remarkably consistent or just really enjoys playing guys who can break your neck with his steely gaze. Whatever the case, when you pay your money for Statham flick you know what you’re getting and “Killer Elite” is exactly what you expect it to be.

Based on a true story Statham plays Danny Bryce, an ex- specials ops agent. He’s mad, bad and dangerous to know but trying to cool it on the whole killing people thing. But like Michael Corleone, every time he thinks he’s out they pull him back in. He’s convinced to strap on a gun once again when his mentor and friend Hunter (Robert De Niro) is kidnapped. In return for Hunter’s release Staham agrees to hunt down and murder the assassins of a rich sheik’s sons. He doesn’t count on is a shadow world of government intrigue and a renegade ex-SAS agent (Clive Owen).

Statham movies aren’t about the scripts, which is a good thing because this is a cliché-o-rama from its opening minutes. For example, he’s an ex-mercenary who’s “done with killing” (although it appears that killing is not done with him. He gets called a “crazy S.O.B.”—or some form of that—frequently and is a man who knows when people are lying to him. How does he know? Because their lips are moving. He lives in a world where “everybody knows the rules; there are no rules.”

Every line from the action movie manual is here, along with the prerequisite Statham droplet of romance, the expendable female character who may, or may not become a plot device in the movie’s third act.

It’s predictable as hell. “You gotta be kidding me!” you’ll be tempted to say at some of the plot twists in this movie, if only the characters in the movie didn’t beat you to it first. It’s a cliché-a-thon alright, but because Statham understands his audience and his persona his movies work. His super macho presence is more important than the script. As long as he is in motion, running and leaping, kicking and punching, and giving voice to action movie clichés in his distinctive English grumble his movies work.

AFGHAN LUKE: 2 ½ STARS

In his new film Mike Clattenburg makes the trip from the trailer park to Afghanistan. The director, who made his name creating and directing “The Trailer Park Boys,” takes a gonzo look at the journalists who cover the war.

Nick Stahl is Luke, a hotheaded reporter crestfallen when his story about an out-of-control Canadian sniper is suppressed by his newspaper. Determined to bring the story to light, he and sidekick Tom (Nicolas Wright) return to Afghanistan to gather more information and report an unsanitized version of the war. In his absence the war torn country has changed, and he finds himself struggling to “make sense of a place that makes no sense.” 

Shot in British Columbia and Nova Scotia “Afghan Luke” does an admirable job in recreating the unpredictable feel of life in a war zone, complete with dark humor and unexpected twists and turns. 

I DON'T KNOW HOW SHE DOES IT: 1 STAR

In "I Don't Know How She Does It," a working mom comedy based on a popular book of the same name, Sarah Jessica Parker plays Carrie Bradshaw in a different time and dimension. This time out she's traded New York for Boston, her Manolo Blahniks for children, Mr. Big for Mr. Joe Average and all that sex in the city she used to have for bake sales and kid's birthday parties.

Fans of "Sex and the City" will recognize some of the style of "I Don't Know How She Does It." if you've missed SJP typing on her laptop or doing ocassionally witty voice over, then you may find something here to like. Otherwise it's a tedious fourth-wall breaking exercise in female empowerment.

Where "Sex and the City" broke ground in its portrayal of female relationships, "I Don't Know How She Does It" settles for rehashing truisms we've heard ad nauseum. "Trying to be a man is a waste of a woman," may sound like a Carie Bradshaw line, but its minus the freshness that made Carrie's quips so memorable.

What it lacks in substance it tries to make up for style. Graphics adorn the screen and characters address the audience. So is it a documentary? Nope, it's an underwritten comedy where the acors break the fourth wall to make up for the story's shortcomings.

"I Don't Know How She Does It" tries to play off SJP's previous successes, but only manges to be even more forgettable than "Sex and the City 2."

DRIVE: 4 ½ STARS

The key piece of dialogue in “Drive,” a new thriller starring Ryan Gostling, happens early on before any of the hard core action begins. Bernie Rose, a shady character played by Albert Brooks extends his hand to Gostling. The younger actor stares at the gesture of friendship for a moment before declining to shake. “My hands are a little dirty,” he says. “So are mine,” replies Rose.

That quick conversation tells us that nobody in this movie is above boards and they don’t care who knows it.

Gostling is a man with no name, simply known as Driver, a movie stunt driver/grease monkey by day and get-a-way wheelman by night. Befriending his neighbors Irene (Carey Mulligan) and young son Benicio (Kaden Leos, who dials the cute kid factor way up) he makes a deal to drive get-a-way for some criminals to square a debt Irene’s husband ran up and safeguard the mother and child. When the deal goes bad he unwittingly becomes involved in a treacherous situation involving Irene’s recently paroled husband, one million dollars in cash and some angry mobsters.  

“Drive” is an art house thriller. It’s stylized, with lighting effects, lots of slow motion and interesting camera angles that create a sense of unease that permeates every scene. For every instance of brutal violence director Nicolas Winding Refn (“Valhalla Rising,” “Bronson”) also escalates the movie’s sense of heightened reality. Very long pauses punctuate most every exchange of dialogue and how is it that no one seems to notice that the Driver is drenched in blood as he walks through a tony Chinese restaurant? “Drive” exists in its own world, and it is a fascinating place.

Here Gostling isn’t the easy charmer of “Crazy, Stupid, Love,” he plays Driver like a coiled spring. There hasn’t been a leading man this close-mouthed since Rudolph Valentino was the king of the silent screen. He’s a man of very few words, but his silence hints at an active inner life and his actions certainly speak to having a past. It’s a brave and strange performance, either emotionally shut down, or simply cool-as-a-cucumber, take your pick.

As for his co-stars, Mulligan isn’t given much to do except use her subtly expressive face to make physical whatever is going on in her head, but Albert Brooks, cast against type as a mobster and Bryan Cranston as an unlucky garage owner are stellar. Refn clearly loves his actors, stroking them in long close-ups, allowing the camera to luxuriate on their faces. It’s the exact opposite of what we usually find in thrillers, but here it adds atmosphere and star power.
 
“Drive” is long-on silence and big on anti-heroes, and is one of the most intriguing movies of the year so far.

CONTAGION: 2 ½ STARS

If "Jaws" kept people out of the water, "Contagion," the new film from "Erin Brockovich" director Steven Soderbergh, will keep them from touching their faces. The average person touches their face upwards of three thousand times a day, and in the world of "Contagion" everything that comes in contact with your skin--an elevator button, a glass at an airport, a handrail on a ferry--could be fatal.

Set in the present day in far flung locations ranging from Hong Kong to London to Minneapolis with several stops in between, the story begins with patient zero, Beth Emhoff (Gwyneth Paltrow), an executive on business in Hong Kong. En route to Minneapolis, when she lives with her husband (Matt Damon) and young son she develops a fever and a cough. Twenty-four hours later she is dead and a modern day plague has begun. The mutating disease spreads rapidly despite the best efforts of medical emergency personnel and Centers for Disease Control and Prevention scientists (Marion Cotillard, Laurence Fishburne and Kate Winslet). Add in a meddlesome logger (Jude Law) and widespread panic and you have SARS, Soderbergh style.

"Contagion" is “The Towering Inferno” with germs, an all-star disaster movie in the mode of Irwin Allen’s 1970s spectacles. It's a generally more serious affair than the Allen cheesefest but they both beat with the same pulpy heart. Each movie takes itself a bit too seriously--although the scene which gives new meaning to the phrase, "picking Gwyneth Paltrow's brain," seems geared for gruesome laughs--has too many characters and tries with varying levels of success to pluck a your heartstrings.

"Contagion" suffers from an international story that stretches the story almost to its breaking point. Plot shards come and go and while it is easy to keep track of what's going on, they don't all feel necessary. A plot line featuring Marin Cotillard in China could easily have been removed with no noticeable (except for the absence of the lovely Ms. Cotillard) effect and the blogger story feels forced.

Other than that "Contagion" is an effective medical procedural. It's a bit clinical at times, like an episode of "CSI" set entirely inside the lab, but in the light of SARS, H1N1 and West Nile it's a chilling movie premise.

It'll make you want to go home and hug someone you love... Just remember to wash your hands first.

WARRIOR: 3 ½ STARS

“Rocky,” the classic Sly Stalone movie set the template for many underdog sports movies that followed. How can you improve on the story? Add another Rocky! In the new MMA (Mixed Martial Arts) inspired film “Warrior” there’s two! two Rocky’s in one!

The story involves a pair of brothers, Tom and Brendan (Tom Hardy and Joel Edgerton), on very different paths in life which lead them to the same place—an MMA cage match. Tom is a broken man, an Iraq war vet and former champion wrestler who returns home to see his father for the first time in fourteen years. Brendan, like so many people, is a victim of the recession. A former UFC fighter and current high school physics teacher, he’s three months away from foreclosure on his family home. Both men look to a grand prix, winner take all, knock down called Sparta, the War on the Shore in Atlantic City to solve their problems.

“Warrior” is a good mix of drama and action. Much time is spent establishing the back stories of the characters and while some of the plot machinations leading up to the final fisticuffs are a bit melodramatic, by the time the beating begins the audience is invested in both main characters.   

Edgerton, an Australian actor best known on these shores for playing armed robber Barry 'Baz' Brown in “Animal Kingdom,” hands in a heartfelt performance as a man who will do anything for his family, and Nick Nolte brings some believable grit to the role of the newly sober father. But it is “Inception” star Tom Hardy’s brooding turn as a tortured soul battling demons, both internal and external, which steals the show. He’s a menacing mass of muscle-bound machismo that makes other tough guys like Vin Diesel look like your Aunt Mary. He’s intense.

So, go to “Warrior” for the acting and stay for the brutal finale, a MMA fight that spares no graphic detail. Punches are thrown, torsos pummeled and old wounds are healed. It’s a surprisingly emotional climax to a macho movie.

SHARK NIGHT 3D: 0 (THE SHARK ATE THEM ALL!)

Didn’t Hollywood learn anything from “Jaws 3D”? Killer sharks in 3D didn’t work then, and they don’t work in “Shark Night 3D,” a movie so awful that charging the extra 3D premium per ticket seems like usury. Quick, somebody call the movie police!

The set up is just as dumb as the movie. A group of good looking college students decide to spend the weekend at school hottie Sara’s (Sara Paxton) family home in the Louisiana Bayou. One by one the friends become shark bait for an inexplicably hungry shark (or sharks!) lurking in the salt water lake.

“Shark Night 3D” could have been a fun homage to the Roger Corman exploitation films of the 1970s. It has all the ingredients—an unlikely premise, scary swamp people with facial scars, hungry creatures and, of course, the holy trinity of these movies, bikinis, babes and finely sculpted abs. There’s even a redneck who lectures one of the students about “moral relativism.”

All the ingredients are there except for a sense of fun. “Piranha 3D” from earlier this year was an unexpected box office hit because it didn’t take itself seriously. It doesn’t have the gory good fun of that movie although it does have some unintentional laughs, one of the dumbest action scenes ever (a motor boat speeds across the bayou, but is later revealed to have only travelled about six feet) and the cascade of bubbles that comes flying off the screen every time the camera submerges has to be one of the most annoying 3D effects EVER. Couple that with characters so uninteresting you hope they get eaten by sharks, and quickly, and a cheesy Littlest Hobo moment and you have the worst fish experience since Uncle Jed ate that rancid sushi.  

At one point in the film a character emotes, “Stay out of the water!” I’ll amend that line, “Stay out of the theatre!” You’ll be better off. 

THE DEBT: 3 ½ STARS

Helen Mirren seems to be in a new phase of her career. The English actress, best known for her Oscar winning portrayal of her majesty in The Queen and for recently taking top honors in the L.A. Fitness body of the year poll at age 66 is now also an action star. In “Reds” she was an ex-CIA agent alongside Bruce Willis, wearing pearls and shooting AK47s and this weekend she's an ex-Mossad agent with a secret.

When the movie opens it is 1997. Retired Mossad agents Rachel, David and Stefan (Helen Mirren, Ciarán Hinds and Tom Wilkinson) are heroes, acclaimed for their brave capture and execution of a notorious war criminal in 1966. But when new information about the case turns up, it threatens to expose a long held secret. Cut to an extended flashback sequence detailing the real details of the operation (with Jessica Chastain, Marton Csokas, and Sam Worthington as the younger versions of the trio), including the romantic entanglement that complicated the mission. Back in 1997 Rachel comes out of retirement to uncover the truth and repay an emotional debt.

The flashback sequence makes up the bulk of the film so it's fair to say this isn't Helen Mirren's film, but her character Rachel's.  Dame Helen and Chastain (in her third film this year) provide the movie's emotional core. Unusual for an espionage movie, the story is told through the eyes of a woman. Rachel is as tough as the men, but adds depth to what is essentially a pulpy spy story with a twist.

Performances are top notch (although some dodgy accents appear) but Sam Worthington, last year's it boy, underwhelms. Luckily Mirren, Chastain and the film's powerful sense of suspense pick up the slack.

OUR IDIOT BROTHER: 3 ½ STARS

The title is a bit of a misnomer because the brother in question isn’t exactly an idiot. He’s more a trusting soul who naïve ways get him, and those around him, in trouble.  

Paul Rudd plays Ned, a Mr. Nice Guy unsuited for life outside of his organic farm. Imagine R. Crumb’s Mr. Natural and you’ll get the picture. When he innocently sells marijuana to a uniformed policeman he is arrested and thrown in jail. His good nature stands him well in jail, where he earns an early release—he won Most Cooperative four months running. Unfortunately in his absence his hippie girlfriend found a new boyfriend and has decided that Willie Nelson, Ned’s beloved dog, is better off with her than with him. His three sisters (Elizabeth Banks, Zooey Dechanel and Emily Mortimer) take turns putting a roof over his head, but in each case his willingness to believe the best in people causes chaos.

“Our Idiot Brother” is a low key indie comedy with a much different feel from the movies that made Rudd famous. His Apatow years have been spent doing broad comedy in movies like Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy, The 40 Year Old Virgin and Knocked Up but this is more character based—and less funny.

There are laughs here, but instead of going for the jokes Rudd is concentrating on playing he character and allowing the humor to flow naturally from him and the situations. The result is a character driven comedy with a lot of compassion and some very good supporting performances from the women playing his sisters.

Banks, Dechanel and Mortimer each bring a different flavor to their roles. Banks is a driven writer with sketchy ethics, Dechanel a free-ish spirit with commitment issues while Mortimer plays a mousy mom. They all stand in stark contrast to the innocence of their brother but their presence buoys, and gives heart to, the film’s family first message.

“Our Idiot Brother” is a likeable comedy elevated by a strong cast who bring empathy to characters who, in less experienced hands, might not have had any.

DON’T BE AFRAID OF THE DARK: 2 ½ STARS

“Don’t be Afraid of the Dark,” a reimagining scary 1973 TV movie of the same name, is a modern day gothic horror produced by shock maestro Guillermo del Toro. Set in Rhode Island it features things that go bump in the night, lots of shadows, mysterious voices, a creepy kid and even creepier little creatures.

Blackwood Manor, a stately old house where years earlier a famous painter had lost his son and mysteriously disappeared, is now it is the property of an ambitious designer (Guy Pearce) who is restoring the home in hopes of landing the cover of Architectural Digest. Instead his young daughter awakens some mysterious creepy-crawlies with a taste for little girls.

“Don’t be Afraid of the Dark” has a slow build to an exciting climax. The opening hour is chock-a-block with atmosphere and the hallmarks of gothic horror—like a groundskeeper who knows more than he is letting on, mysterious voices and hidden chambers—but is light on action. It plays like a family drama—the youngster is collateral damage in a nasty breakup between Pearce and his ex-wife—as seen through the lens of a genre filmmaker.  

Mostly the first hour is Bailee Madison, as the young girl the little beasties find so appealing, alternatively acting out, whimpering or staring blankly in the age old creepy-kid horror film tradition.

It all leads to a satisfying climax, however, featuring swarms of cool creatures and enough ferocious fun to make the slow start worthwhile.        

THE GUARD: 4 ½ STARS

The synopsis of “The Guard” reads like a standard police procedural. Renegade cop finds dead body, the FBI gets involved. Throw in some deadly drug smugglers and you have a Steven Seagal movie. Except this time you don’t. This time you have one of the most unexpectedly delightful movies of the year.

Brendan Gleeson (probably best known as Alastor “Mad-Eye” Moody in the Harry Potter series) is Sergeant Gerry Boyle, a small town West Ireland cop. He’s the opposite of a by-the-book policeman. In fact he’s more interested in escorts, pilfering LSD from traffic victims and drinking beer at the local pub than he is in the drug ring that has landed in his village. Or at least that’s how it seems to FBI agent Wendell Everett (Don Cheadle) who comes to town to bring down the drug cartel.

Despite having all the earmarks of a cop fish-out-of-water picture “The Guard,” by virtue of its setting and Gleeson’s central performance, is anything but. The bucolic Irish countryside location gives the movie a chance to establish a fresh setting, unfamiliar to most viewers, far from the city streets where most cop dramas are placed.  

Then there is Gleeson, the real reason to see the movie. He’s an Irish Columbo, under estimated by everyone around him until the chips are down. It’s a complex performance, amusing on the surface, but rich with pathos as Boyle’s life is slowly revealed. He’s brilliant but unhappy, a man mired in existentialist muck as only someone who has read all the Russian classics can be. (Did I mention he and his cancer ridden mom, played by the amazing Fionnula Flanagan, quote the Russian masters?)

“The Guard” is 100% Gleeson’s movie. The open-ended story leaves room for the possibility of a sequel, and for once I hope they continue the story. Boyle is a character I’d like to see more of.

FRIGHT NIGHT: 4 STARS

Think about it; Las Vegas is the perfect place for a vampire to hang out. There are no castles or creepy forests but there are lots of potential victims who don't go out until the sun goes down. It's a town that lives at night which makes it the perfect place for Jerry (Colin Farrell) the new vampire in town.

Based on Tom Holland’s 1985 camp classic original of the same name, "Fright Night" sticks to the basic plot of its namesake but this isn't a traditional vampire thriller. It's more "True Blood" than "Dracula."

High school senior Charlie (Anton Yeltin) doesn't believe his childhood friend Ed's (Christopher Mintz-Plasse) claim that Jerry, the new guy on the block, is a vampire. Doesn't believe him, that is, until their friends start to go missing. With the help of his girlfriend Amy (Imogen Poots) and a swishy vampire expert named Peter Vincent (David Tennant in the role Roddy McDowell made famous) Charlie tries to put a stake through Jerry's reign of terror.

Even though "Fright Night" starts as a high school horror, this ain't "Twilight." It's more concerned with thrills and chills and laughs than romance or teen ennui. This is a horror film, and a pretty good one too once it gets past the set up.

The first hour threatens to get bogged down by deliberate pacing and a slowish unveiling of the plot points but is rescued by engaging performances by Yeltin and Poots, and an eerie turn by Farrell. At the sixty minute mark the horror hits, the pace picks up and the blood starts spurting.

"Fright Night" is popcorn horror with just enough bite to appeal to horror audiences and more casual vampire fans.  

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.  

ONE DAY: 3 STARS

The subtitle for “One Day,” a new romance starring Jim Sturgess and Anne Hathaway, should be “Carpe Diem!” Seize the day, it seems to be telling us, particularly if you’re in love.

Sturgess and Hathaway each affect English accents for their roles—his is real, her’s clearly isn’t—of people who meet on July 15, 1988 and play romantic cat and mouse for almost twenty years. In the beginning Hathaway is an earnest poet who thinks she can change the world. How earnest is she? She plays Tracy Chapman’s “Talkin’ Bout a Revolution” as seduction music. That’s pretty earnest. He’s a rich kid with a yin yang symbol, representing the perfect union of opposites, tattooed on his ankle and, as it turns out on his heart. This pair of opposites spend most of their lives trying not to fall in love until one day, July 15th, no less, they take the leap.

“One Day” is many things. It’s a style parade of hair and clothes from the past twenty years and it’s an interesting take on how to tell a story but it’s also a little disconnected. I think the year-by-year format—we drop in on Jim and Anne every July 15 for twenty years—is the culprit. It begins to feel gimmicky by the early nineties and by the millennium almost feels as though it is playing out in real time.  

Luckily the story is rescued by the chemistry between the leads. Sturgess brings an easy charm to the character, and his transformation from happy-go-lucky student to lounge lizard TV presenter is effective. Hathaway’s charm lies in the intelligence she brings to her characters. Here she plays a smarty-pants young woman set adrift in life, someone who is slowly finding thye self confidence to be who she really wants to be. In Hathaway’s hands you never doubt that she’ll get there.

The decades long dance they do as they pretend not to be in love shows the chemistry between the two. The film has some serious structural flaws but the spark between the two of them forgive many of the film’s sins.  

We’ve seen the ‘can men and women be friends’ thing a hundred times before but “One Day’s” “whatever happens tomorrow… we’ve had today” theme is effective and may even wring a tear or two from the most hard hearted of viewers.

THE HELP: 3 STARS

“The Help,” an adaptation of a 2009 best seller of the same name by Kathryn Stockett, has a tricky story to tell. Make it too uplifting and it will ring historically false; make it too realistically downbeat and summer audiences might stay away. Luckily, the story of a Southern Belle’s social awakening and the women who made it possible, hits most of the right notes.

Set in the weeks and months leading up to the 1963 death of African American civil rights activist Medgar Evers, “The Help” is the story of Jackson, Mississippi native “Skeeter” Phelan (Emma Stone), who comes home from four years at school to discover the woman who raised her, a maid named Constantine (Cicely Tyson), is no longer employed by her family. Her mother says she quit, but Skeeter has doubts. Meanwhile Skeeter takes a job writing a domestic maintenance column for the local newspaper. When she asks a friend’s maid, Aibileen (Viola Davis) for housekeeping tips she realizes there is more to the lives of the maids who raised her and her friends than she previously thought. With the help of a courageous group of housekeepers she tells the real story of the life of the maids, writing a book called “The Help.”

“The Help” is set at a time in the South when groups like the White Citizen’s Council had an office on Main Street and those same citizens didn’t see the irony of arriving at a charity event called The African Children’s Ball in a White’s Only taxi cab. The film gets the casual racism of the time right, offering up a sense of the era, but in a sanitized Hollywood sort of way. The brutal details of the book—stories of lynchings and corporal punishment for trifling matters—have been wiped away. Even the death of Evers, a turning point in the Civil Rights movement, happens off screen and goes largely unexplored.

There are some subtle moments that really ring true however. In one scene Skeeter visits Aibileen as she does her chores to try and convince her to be interviewed for the book. She’s meeting with her person to person, but when it starts to rain Skeeter rushes to get out of the rain without offering to help Aibileen gather up the rest of the laundry she had been bringing in from the clothes line. Skeeter wants to level the playing field between them, but she hasn’t yet completely let go of the idea of what is maid’s work and what is not.    

But having said all that, this isn’t a history lesson. If you want real life grit rent “Eyes on the Prize”—Harry Hampton’s 1987 documentary on the American Civil Rights Movement from 1952 to 1965—because you won’t find it here. What you will find is a portrait of the South painted in broad strokes, performed by an eager and talented cast.

Some of the performances are pitched a bit over-the-top—Jessica Chastain, so understated in “The Tree of Life” seems positively ready to burst in the first half of this movie—but in the Southern Belle category, Emma Stone (and her football-sized eyes) brings some curly-haired determination to the role. She’s obviously different, the filmmakers seem to be telling us, because she’s the only one without a pulled back Beehive hairdo. Allison Janney as Skeeter's dramatic mother—“My daughter has upset my cancerous ulcer,” she cries at one point—really shines and Bryce Dallas Howard as Hilly Holbrook, the town’s well-born racist, is a chilling reminder of the genteel face of intolerance.

The performance that sells the picture, however, belongs to Academy Award nominee Viola Davis. As Aibileen she is the soul of the film, a woman who has been hurt by life but is still capable of nurturing the very people who wounded her. Even though she doesn’t have the movie’s showiest role—that’s Octavia Spencer as Minny Jackson—she’s still the film’s strongest and most memorable character.

“The Help” is a heartfelt and sincere story that could have benefited from a little less of those qualities and a little more realism.

30 MINUTES OR LESS: 3 ½ STARS

The plot of “30 Minutes of Less” is simple. That’s a good thing because this movie burns along at such a clip there isn’t much room left for subplots, story arcs or narrative aesthetics. It’s a bottle rocket, a small but entertaining burst of bad taste and action adventure.
   
Very loosely on the Collar bomb case, a strange Erie, Pennsylvania bank robbery, the story involves a slacker pizza delivery boy (Jesse Eisenberg) who is kidnapped by two moronic criminals (Danny McBride and Nick Swardson) who strap a bomb to his chest and order him to rob a bank or, in ten hours, everything will go boom.

That’s it.

There’s more about a best friend (Aziz Ansari), his sister (Dilshad Vadsaria) and a psycho killer (Michael Peña) but their stories are add-ons to keep the action moving a bullet-like pace.

There’s nothing genteel about “30 Minutes or Less.” The presence of Danny McBride assures that. For me the “Eastbound & Down” star is a love-him-or-hate-him actor. There’s no middle ground. If you don’t find his brand of foulmouthed, anything-goes humor, then you’ll find very little to like here. He isn’t the star, per se, but his toxic style sets the tone for the movie.

But, if McBride turns your crank, you’ll find much to like here. “Social Network” star Eisenberg gets in a good joke about facebook, Ansari is a ball of manic energy and there’s way more wild action than you usually find in a comedy.

I guess “30 Minutes of Less” the spiritual, but foul mouthed cousin to Eisenberg’s “Zombieland,” a mix of unexpected action and jokes.

GLEE: THE 3D CONCERT MOVIE: 3 GLEEK STARS, 2 STARS FOR EVERYONE ELSE

And the award for the most unnecessary movie of the week goes to…

In a summer jam packed with remakes, reboots and retro 80s nostalgia, along comes “Glee: The 3D Concert Movie,” and exercise in instant nostalgia. “Remember when we could sit around and watch “Glee” on TV every Tuesday night… Wait! We can do that now!”

"Glee: The 3D Concert Movie " literally sings to the choir. If there ever was a movie made for fans, this is it. A concert film, with real life fan testimonials tucked in between the pop songs and show tunes, the music loses most of its context when there isn't a storyline to play off of. What's left is essentially karaoke with some nifty dance moves thrown in.

First the music. Highlights include Lea Michele warbling through a Barbara Streisand tune, and a dirge like “I Wanna Hold Your Hand” sung with great charm by Chris Colfer but when Mark Salling sings “Fat Bottom Girls” it doesn't sound so much like a Queen classic as it does the death of rock and roll. Ditto a truly odious version of “Safety Dance” that recreates a pivotal moment from Glee's first season. Finally, when the entire ensemble sings “Don't Stop Believin'” I really hoped that, like the season finale of The Sopranos, the screen would fade to black and someone would whack all the performers.

Better are the interstitials, the “Glee” testimonials provided by hardcore fans of the show. A host of real life Gleeks begin their stories with lines like, "Glee changed my life," and, by inviting us into their lives tell us how the show has helped them through hardships. It's all a bit Oprah, but the stories--told by a young gay man forcibly outed in grade eight, a woman with Asperger syndrome and a little person--have resonance.

I get the appeal of the show--a group of outsiders who sing inspirational song—but as they say in the movie, everyone can see themselves in the cast of “Glee,” but unless you are a fan already, I don't think you need to see this movie.

FINAL DESTINATION 5: 4 STARS FROM THE JUDGE FROM SPLATTERVILLE / 2 STARS FROM ME

The popularity of the splatter movies that gave birth to several late 90s/early naughts movie franchises seems to be on the wane. “Saw’s” blades have been dulled and “Hostel,” once the beastly spokesmnodel for torture-porn, is becoming an amusement park ride (seriously). Only “Final Destination” continues unabated. Despite the prominence of the word “final” in the title we’re now on number five with no end in sight.

Here’s the story, or as it is known in the “FD” world, the dull stuff that happens between the gory stuff: Someone has a premonition that all his/her good looking friends die in the most terrible way imaginable. When the vision comes true—usually preceded by the tell tale line, “Something’s wrong!”—whoever survives ends up dying anyway, in increasingly complicated ways. In “#5” a gymnast earns a 9.5 from the Splatterville judge and if you’re thinking of getting laser eye surgery any time soon… well, go see “30 Minutes of Less” instead.

What “Final Destination 5” lacks in story it makes up for in gore and cheesy special effects. It’s not enough to kill these kids, the “Final Destination” folks find it necessary to crush, spindle and mutilate them usually not just once, but twice. It’s the kind of movie which makes audiences shout, “No, you didn’t!” and “Awwwwwwwwwwwww! I can never un-see that!” usually while laughing and having a pretty good gruesome time.

If you’ve seen and enjoyed previous “Final Destination” movies then this chronicle of carnage may be for you. If you’ve never seen any of the films in the series, however, you may want to keep it that way.

RISE OF THE PLANET OF THE APES: 3 STARS

Earlier this year a documentary called “Project Nim” detailed the life and sad times of Nim Chimpsky, who was taken from his mother and taught sign language before being abandoned once he outlived his usefulness as a laboratory experiment. It would make a good double bill with “Rise of the Planet of the Apes,” a big budget prequel to the famous sci fi films. Man does ape wrong in “Project Nim,” and in “Rise of the Planet of the Apes” the chimps get even.

The time is modern day San Francisco. James Franco plays Will Rodman, a scientist working to create a drug that will slow, or even reverse the effects of Alzheimer’s disease. When one of his chimp test subjects goes berserk the project is shut down and the remaining apes are ordered euthanized “in the most cost effective way possible” by Rodman’s boss, the ruthless CEO Steven Jacobs (David Oyelowo). The scientist rescues a baby chimp, the son of one of his test subjects. Soon he discovers that the drug given to the baby’s mother has filtered through his system, giving him extraordinary intelligence. Raised completely by humans the chimp, named Caesar (after the emperor, not the salad), doesn’t realize he has simian cousins until he is removed from his comfortable home and placed in an ape sanctuary. Soon Caesar becomes like Chimp Guevara, organizing a revolution against his human captors. This ape is mad as hell and he’s not going to take it anymore.

The original “Planet of the Apes” movie was an allegory for racism and nuclear war topped off with Charlton Heston’s hairy chest and some cool monkey masks. “Rise,” on the other hand is a generic action movie with state-of-the-art primates and the occasional moment that elevates it above Tim Burton’s remake, but it doesn’t come close to the emotional realism that made the first movie a classic.

Andy Serkis's performance-capture work as alpha ape Ceasar is one of the movie’s strengths and weaknesses. There is no doubt that his facial expressions, particularly the use of his eyes, add much to the character of the chimp but the computer generated imagery used to bring Caesar to life, while impressive, lacks an organic feel. It seems fake even though much has been done to ensure a lifelike visage. The Roddy McDowell era apes were obviously fake—sometimes painfully so—but somehow they had more soul.

Emotional apes aside, the movie plays it a bit too cute in the beginning, but when the revolution begins—Caesar uses cookies to bribe his fellow apes into joining him, proving once and for all that an army does indeed march on its stomach—the movie kicks into gear. Some of the action is a bit too showy—since when can apes do martial arts?—but the scene of Caesar on horseback leading the charge against the heavily fortified cops is a real crowd pleaser.              

“Rise of the Planet of the Apes” plays fast and loose with the mythology established in the previous movies and takes a bit too long to get to the movie’s exciting monkey business, but delivers an exciting finale that would make Nim proud.

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.

THE WHISTLEBLOWER: 2 ½ STARS

Instead of running the title card “based on a true story” up front, “The Whistleblower,” a new drama starring Rachel Weisz, Monica Bellucci and Vanessa Redgrave, begins with the disclaimer “inspired by true events. Some of the characters may be composites or fictitious.” No “just the facts ma'am” for this movie. The filmmakers decided to take a perfectly serviceable and important story and tart it up with Hollywood story elements. Because facts are often stranger than fiction, it’s a shame they didn’t stick more with the truth and less with the movie contrivances.

Weisz plays Kathryn Bolkovac a Nebraska policewoman based on a real life person of the same name. Divorced, she’s desperate to move across country to be closer to her kids but can’t lay her hands on either the job transfer or the money to make the trip. To raise the cash she takes a six month job as a peace keeper in Sarajevo, Bosnia. War has ended and a company called Democra Security has been contracted by the U.N. to help smooth the transition from strife to peace. Soon, however, she uncovers a human trafficking ring specializing in young women sold into prostitution. Uncovering a far reaching conspiracy she finds herself making some powerful enemies.

“The Whistleblower” is a well intentioned film that more often than not plays like an episode of “Law & Order: SVU,” albeit with more exotic locations. It’s a police procedural with many of the tried and true plot devices of the genre. Evidence seems to show up when needed, progress is inevitably slowed by bureaucratic process and the main character is true blue. “I’m an American police officer,” she says to a young woman afraid that the U.N. isn’t going to be able to help, “it doesn’t matter who I work for.” No that’s plucky.   

Where it differs from other procedurals is in its uncompromising imagery. A dank dungeon brothel is identified by close-ups of chains, dirty mattresses and used condoms and a scene involving the bad guys disciplining one of their captives is too grim to be described here. Those scenes have impact and underline the importance of telling this story from a humanist standpoint, but from a cinematic perspective it all feels kind of standard and often borders on the sanctimonious.   

Weisz, in the role that Mariska Hargitay would have played if this was a TV movie, brings some depth to the gritty cop stereotype we’ve seen a hundred times before, conveying urgency and determination.

“The Whistleblower” is topped by an effective and exciting final reel but for my money it takes just a bit too long to get there.         

THE DEVIL’S DOUBLE: 2 STARS

"The Devil’s Double," a new drama starring Dominic Cooper in the dual role of Saddam Hussein’s eldest son and heir apparent Uday and his look-a-like body double and body guard, captures much of the surface details of the decadence of the life of the son of a dictator, but what it lacks is insight into the mind of a madman.

Out of Sundance “The Devil's Double” garnered lots of attention for Cooper's performance. He plays two characters, one a pampered party boy with a taste for sex, drugs and disco music. The other an unwilling participant in the madness who was forced to become Uday’s body double. Its attention grabbing work which displays his range as an actor, but unfortunately he is hemmed in by a script that values overkill (literally) over nuance.

Painted in very broad strokes Uday simply comes off as a Tony Montana clone without the snappy one liners or depth. He's unpredictable yet, on film he's a completely predicable bad guy. Imagine a casting call for the son of a dictator and this is who Central Casting would send over. Perhaps it's because Uday had so little character in real life that Cooper has such a hard time finding the character on the big screen.

Also, it doesn't really help that for much of the movie Cooper resembles the late, lamented lead singer of Queen, Freddie Mercury, more than Uday.                   

Better is his take on Latif Yahia, the stoic stand in. With the theatrics of Uday gone he reveals a more understated and more interesting performance, but his better work is overshadowed by the bombast of the rest of the movie.

“The Devil's Double” isn't about the stunt double performance, or the violence. In fact, it isn't about anything much at all. With no insight as to how Uday became a murderous playboy—he's insane, we’re told once or twice—the movie comes across as a unilayered sensationalist portrait of the absolute corruption of absolute power, but little more.

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.

THE SMURFS: 3 SMURFIN' STARS

This live-action/animation hybrid reintroduces the little blue creatures of Smurf Village -- a place where there is no sadness and feeling blue is a good thing -- to a new generation not raised on the effervescently perky pint -- they may be blue but there's not a melancholy one in the bunch -- sized blue creatures.

I was a bit too cynical to buy into the Smurf craze of the 1980s -- they were so popular one writer called them "kiddie cocaine" -- but now I can see it as something other than an hour and a half advertisement for Smurfs Are Us. The new incarnation is a sweet kid's movie with just enough grown-up material to keep the parents interested.

Of course the Smurfs are the main attraction, but it is bad guy Hank Azaria and his evil cat sidekick Azrael who provide the movie's biggest laughs. The live action Gargamel is a classic kid villain, a baddie who's not as smart as he thinks he is, and Azaria plays him with pantomime relish in a performance that is as big as the Smurfs are small. His evil feline sidekick is almost as big a scene stealer as he is.

Voice work is uniformly good, with Jonathan Winters leading the way with his warm and fuzzy take on Papa Smurf's voice. Also clever is the Narrator Smurf (voice of Tom Kane) who provides a play-by-play of the action in dulcet tones.

"The Smurfs" trades on its inherent cute factor and nostalgia for much of its appeal. There are some good messages for kids woven in and the animation is relentlessly adorable but is there anything here for anyone over the age of five? Silly question. Is a Smurf's butt blue?

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.

FRIENDS WITH BENEFITS: 2 1/2 STARS

The success of “Black Swan” last year didn’t open the floodgates for more adventurous movies or even more psycho ballet flicks. Nope, instead it enabled the stars of that movie to go on and make two virtually identical rom coms released in the same year.

Natalie Portman teamed up with Ashton Kutcher earlier in 2011 to make “No Strings Attached,” a story about a couple who find that being friends with benefits is more complicated than they thought it would be. Now Natalie’s “Black Swan” co-star Mila Kunis and boy toy Justin Timberlake discover pretty much the same thing in a ??? movie opening this weekend. Isn’t that the actress version of wearing the same dress to the prom as your best friend?

Kunis and Timberlake are Jamie and Dylan, newly single twenty-somethings—she was dumped by her boyfriend Quincy (Andy Samberg), he by Kayla (Emma Stone)—who decide to have a relationship based entirely on sex. "It's just a physical act," says Dylan, "like playing tennis." No strings attached as Ms. Portman might say. But like many before them (including Portman and Kutcher) they soon realize that getting physical also means getting personal.

Rom coms needn't be as long winded as "Friends with Benefits." At almost two hours the inevitable conclusion--I'm not telling you want happens but if you've ever seen a romantic comedy you already know--is WAY too long in coming. The set up on these things is pretty basic, and while filmmakers have to throw in some other story elements to keep things interesting "Friends with Benefits" stretches things a little too thin.

JT and Mila acquit themselves well enough, although they don't exactly sear the screen with their chemistry. Too bad, they're both likable, attractive performers but for me they didn't seem to click, and for this story to really work sparks should be flying.

"Friends with Benefits" has some fun supporting performances--Woody Harrelson as a gay sports writer and Patricia Clarkson as Mila's free spirited mom have fun with their roles--too bad the leads aren't in on the fun as well.

PROJECT NIM: 4 STARS

“Project Nim,” a new documentary from Academy Award winning director James Marsh, is a portrait of an adopted child who goes on to have a troubled life. The twist here is that the child is a chimpanzee, removed from his mother’s care as an infant to be raised by humans as part of linguistics experiment.

The idea, initiated by Columbia professor Herbert Terrace, is that the chimp will be raised by a human family, taught sign language, all in an effort to see if the animal can learn to form full sentences that indicate grammatical communication. Little Nim wears a diaper, breast feeds from his human mom and develops an impressive vocabulary before being handed from caretaker to caretaker and then, having outlived his usefulness as a learning tool, sent to an animal research lab. Animal lovers should know there is a happy-ish ending, but there are a few harrowing scenes before the end credits roll.

First and foremost Marsh is a storyteller. He breaks down Nim’s tale into a narrative, complete with heroes—the various caretakers who seemed to really love Nim, especially Bob Ingersoll —and villains—the dispassionate Terrace—and everything in between—that would be the naïve Stephanie LaFarge, Nim’s first human mother who moved the primate into her NYC brownstone. Its riveting stuff, expertly told, that will raise questions of the benefits of nature versus nurture and the ethics of animal experimentation, no matter how benign.

Ultimately we learn more about the human cast members than Nim. Much of the behavior in the film is excused by the participants with a dismissive, “Hey, it was the Seventies,” but it’s a justification that rings hollow.   

“Project Nim” details a little known case of scientific selfishness coupled with a naïve free-thinking hippie vibe that didn’t work out well for anyone, human or chimp. Perhaps it’s true that this kind of experiment could only have happened in the Seventies, the same decade that gave us the bulk of the “Planet of the Apes” movies. Coincidence? I think not.

HARRY POTTER AND THE DEATHLY HALLOWS PART 2: 4 ½ STARS

Someone once said, “The trick is growing up without growing old,” and as we reach the end of the Harry Potter film cycle that saying rings true. The series has matured but not over stayed its welcome. “Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 2,” the eighth, and final film in the franchise is a fitting end for the Boy Wizard and friends. It’s a mature movie that puts a period on the story without being maudlin or overly sentimental.

This is the one muggles far and wide have been waiting for, the final face-off between lightening-bolt-scarred Harry Potter and his nemesis Lord Voldemort (Ralph Fiennes). Elder Wand in hand the merciless leader of the Death Eaters attacks the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, bringing about a fiery showdown between Harry (Daniel Radcliffe), Hermione (Emma Watson) and Ron (Rupert Grint) and the dark forces who put both the Wizarding and Muggle worlds at risk.

As close to a all out action movie as there is in the Potter series Deathly Hallows puts the pedal to the metal early on, effectively using 3D in the action sequences (although not as well in the talky exposition scenes). Harry's Horcrux hunt (say that fast three times!) takes up much of the movie leading up to some major revelations, an existential train station scene and a heartwarming conclusion, but along the way along the way it’s an exciting ride.

It's worth it to see beloved thespian Maggie Smith engage in a fireball duel, hear Alan Rickman deliver the best evil vocal tics since Boris Karloff and watch Fiennes wave his wand with wondrous aplomb but despite the bombast this isn't your average summer blockbuster. There are quiet moments, and the death scene of major character is played out off screen. Of course, it is made all the more horrifying because of what we don't see, but the typical summer movie doesn't want you to use your imagination.

Potter does. I've been critical in the past because I found the movies to be a bit too inside. If you haven’t read the books and aren’t familiar with the Potterverse—it's grown to big to be called Potterworld—then you'd be lost. All the talk of Horcruxes and Death Eaters can boggle the muggle mind, but in the new film the Potter-parlance doesn’t get in the way. This time out the Sword of Gryffindor and the like are McGuffins, things that propel the story but in the end aren't as important as the underlying themes of friendship and good versus evil.
“Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 2” may be the most metaphysical summer blockbuster ever. It deals with large questions of life and death, examines what goes on in the souls of men (and evil lords) all wrapped up in the comforting Potterverse. It has been a long strange journey with its own set of rules, internal logic and kooky creatures but the Potter cinema saga ends with dignity and without cutting corners.

Probably the most satisfying film, not just in the Potter series, but of the summer so far.

WINNIE THE POOH: 4 STARS

The gentle humor of Winnie the Pooh has been a childhood staple for almost a century. From the original A. A. Milne book in 1926 to radio, television, film and even philosophical adaptations like the Tao of Pooh, the little stuffed bear with a jones for hunny and his pals Piglet, Owl, Rabbit and Eeyore, is a pop culture superstar.

After years of new Pooh stories his latest big screen adventure, simply titled “Winnie the Pooh,” goes back to the source for its inspiration. Disney has woven together six chapters of Milne’s stories to form one satisfying whole. 

The movie starts, as all great Pooh movies do—and there’s 51 of them to choose from—with Pooh searching for hunny. Along the way he helps Eeyore, the pessimistic stuffed donkey, find a replacement for his lost tail and searches for a mysterious creature called a Backson.

Directors Stephen Anderson and Don Hall have wisely updated the story—the pace is snappier than the classic 1960s cartoons—but kept the elements that have made Pooh an indispensable character for the under ten crowd. The gentle humor is in place, along with the beautiful water color backgrounds of Hundred Acre Wood and the voices so connected to the series (they’re done by different people now, but are true to style established by Walt himself).
 
Disney has done something special with this reboot; they’ve created a movie that feels modern without sacrificing its nostalgic charm. And at just over an hour “Winnie the Pooh” is geared to the attention spans of a young audience.

A BETTER LIFE: 2 ½ STARS

This character study from the director of About a Boy and featuring Weeds star Demián Bichir as an illegal immigrant gardener in Los Angeles, is a low key and timely drama about building a new life in a new country. Heavy on melodrama, story wise it doesn’t offer much we haven’t seen before in similarly themed stories, but acting wise it is a powerhouse. Bichir hits all the right notes in an award worthy performance that brings heart and soul to a story that unfortunately feels like a Hollywood-ized take on the plight of illegal immigrants in California.

HORRIBLE BOSSES: 3 STARS

Everyone has fantasizes about if not killing, then at least doing grievous bodily harm on an employer. The guys in “Horrible Bosses,” a new comedy starring Jason Bateman, Charlie Day and Jason Sudeikis, actually do something about it.

Chances are you've never had a boss as mean, manipulating or just plain odd as the bosses in this movie. These people make Genghis Khan look like an equal opportunity employer. Bateman works for Kevin Spacey, a corporate shark not above exploiting his workers and then taking a promotion and pay raise for himself. The cast's other Jason, Sedaris, is saddled with Colin Farrell an unscrupulous coke head with a bad attitude and an even worse comb over. Finally Day works for Jennifer Aniston, a dentist who uses laughing gas as a sex toy.

All are stuck in their jobs and fed up with the daily humiliation offered in their workplaces decide to do the only thing a reasonable person would do—kill their bosses.

OK, I was joking about the reasonable person part. Of course no reasonable person would try to hire a hit man on the Internet or break into their bosses homes looking for ways to kill them, but this is a comedy so we'll accept that. Or will we? The movie stars off strong, funny and well paced but it's central premise—let's kill our bosses!—seems forced and it sucks some of the funny from the middle part of the movie.

There are laughs for sure, but the bungling of the crucial set up scene left me feeling like I was watching a funny enough movie marred with a silly premise.

The cast holds up well. The Jasons bring their usual brand of well practiced funny, and “It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia” star Charlie Day is a funny find but thesis rises here are Farrell and Aniston. We've seen Spacey do this kind of thing before, the manic boss with no scruples (ie: “Swimming with Sharks”) but his cast mates are breaking some new ground. Farrell throws vanity out the window to play a drug addled loser with a penchant for cocaine and masseuses. He's funny and edgy and does work here unlike we've seen before from him.

Aniston leaves her America's Sweetheart persona behind to play a foul mouthed predator with a bad habit of using gas as foreplay. If this doesn’t wipe away any traces of Rachel left over from her TV work, I don't know what will.

"Horrible Bosses" is a darkly funny employee revenge film that mostly works, I just wish the motivation felt more authentic.

ZOOKEEPER: 3 STARS

“Zookeeper,” or as any Kevin James movie could be called, “Fat Guy Falling Down... A Lot,” plays like “Dr. Doolittle” if “Dr. Doolittle” was a romantic comedy for kids.

James is Griffin, a schlubby zookeeper who has never really recovered from being dumped by his girlfriend (Leslie Bibb) five years earlier. When she turns up in his life again, he is determined to win her back. Problem is, he has no confidence. When the zoo animals catch wind of his dilemma they decide to help him out by becoming his life coaches. After all, animals are experts in mating.

Your enjoyment of “Zookeeper” will depend on two things. One, your tolerance for talking animals. Two, whether or not you find Kevin James charming. If your answer to either is yes, or if you are under ten years of age, then “Zookeeper” might hold some promise for you. If not, go see “Tree of Life.” It has dinosaurs but none of them speak.

“Zookeeper” carefully adheres to the Kevin James Comedy Template ™: goofy guys tries to get the hot girl and even though it may seem like an un likely pairing, he’s sweet and inevitably irresistible. This is basically “Paul Blart: Mall Cop” with animals and Rosario Dawson. That means it’s a sweet-natured if largely forgettable. There are good messages for kids about accepting people for who they are and respect for animals, but mostly this is an old school comedy with pratfalls for the kids and a bit of romance for the parents sitting next to them in the theatre.

There are a couple of very funny scenes. There’s visit to TGIFridays that no veterinarian would condone and the monkey from “The Hangover 2” (starring in his second big film of the year! Who is this primate’s agent?) has some of the film’s best lines. Adam Sandler, who also produced the movie, provides the monkey voice, but also listen for the vocal work of Cher, Nick Nolte, Don Rickles and Sylvester Stallone.

“Zookeeper” is harmless family fun, with a few more giggles for the kids (who might not get the romantic stuff) than the parents (who might not care about the poop jokes). Luckily for Kevin James, and "Zookeeper's" audience almost everyone laughs when someone falls down.

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.

PAGE ONE: INSIDE THE NEW YORK TIMES: 3 STARS

This documentary spends much time trumpeting the New York Times’s storied past and making predictions for its uncertain future. What it doesn’t cover as well is the here and now. A portrait of a business deeply wounded by online news sources and an exodus of advertisers, it shows us an American tradition in flux. Luckily for them and for us, the New York Times may have no feistier proponent than David Carr, the central figure of the film. The passion the grizzled writer shows for the paper and its place in the history of journalism elevates the doc from infotainment puff piece to compelling argument for the survival of the analogue newspaper.

TRANSFORMERS: DARK OF THE MOON: 4 STARS

You can’t say Michael Bay doesn’t try to give you your money’s worth in “Transformers: Dark of the Moon.” With a running time of two and a half hours the third part of the Hasbro saga has a story epic enough to hold up to Bay’s overblown style. It’s loud and proud filmmaking and for the first time in the series, it really works.

Set three years after the last movie Sam Witwicky (Shia LaBeouf) has an Ivy League education under his belt and a new girl on his arm. A new job for a multinational company places Sam, once again, smack dab in the middle of a showdown between the nasty Decepticons and the heroic Autobots. The former are the bad guys, the latter are the white hats, other than that, you’re on your own. There’s a lot going on here, including an ulterior motive for JFK’s space race, Chernobyl and an almost Shakespearean double cross.

While it is unsettling to see good actors like Frances McDormand grab a paycheque for acting opposite giant robots, “Transformers: Dark of the Moon” is the most satisfying blockbuster of the year. Its heavy metal filmmaking, all bluster and bee stung lips (more on that later).

Bay has never been known for his restraint and in the past his overblown ascetic has gotten in the way of his storytelling. This time out he reigns in the story and yet pulls it off. It’s jammed packed—the long prologue plays like a “Forest Gump” tribute, featuring everyone from JFK to Nixon to Walter Cronkite—and likely the subplots with Sam’s parents and John Malkovich as a horrible boss could have been cut to save on time, but the movie’s relentless pace ensures it never drags. By amping up the action and playing down the story Bay greases the wheels and has created a satisfying summer movie.

Bay has also finally figured out how to shoot the frenetic action scenes so the clashing robots are no longer just blurs of glinting metal but clearly defined warriors. The action scenes, particularly the extended battle that eats up the film’s last forty minutes, are exciting in a visceral way. There’s not a lot of substance here, but who cares, it’s the movie’s silly season and nobody blows things up like Bay.

People go see “Transformers” for the robots—and their transformation scenes remain the coolest thing about the series—but it should be noted that Megan Fox’s is not missed. Her replacement, former Victoria’s Secret model Rosie Huntington-Whiteley, has a mouth that redefines the term “bee stung lips” and is confident enough to allow Bay’s camera to assess every inch of her body as she makes her debut as Sam’s latest fling.

In “Transformers: Dark of the Moon” Bay shifts into third gear and delivers the best robot porn yet.

LARRY CROWNE: 3 ½ STARS

“Larry Crowne” is a boomer comedy. Squarely aimed at audiences with memories long enough to remember when gas only cost 54 cents a litre, none of your neighbors had foreclosure signs on their front lawns and Tom Hanks and Julia Roberts ruled the box office.

Larry Crowne (Tom Hanks, who also directs), the man not the movie, is the kind of guy proud to wear his My Name Is tag. That is, until the day U Mart downsizes him because he doesn’t have a college education. Divorced and stuck with a house that isn’t worth what he owes on it he turns his life around by going back to school and getting an education in life and love from teacher Mercedes Tainot (Julia Roberts).

“Larry Crowne” has an old fashioned feel to it, like a nineties sitcom updated with references from the 2000s. There’s something reassuring about seeing old pros Hanks and Roberts effortlessly glide through threw this like hot knives through butter, but occasionally the material feels a bit out of date.

Larry’s classmate, played by the charismatic Gugu Mbatha-Raw, takes great pains to update his look, but unfortunately her efforts didn’t extend to the script. He may start wearing his shirts untucked and show up at school with a jaunty scarf around his neck, but when a blogger is the villain of the piece and facebook and twitter are blamed for running kid’s attention spans (really grandpa?) you get a story that feels out of step in 2011.

Tom Hanks has been playing the “Da Vinci Code’s” oh-so-serious iconology professor Robert Langdon for so long now it’s easy to forget that he was once known as an accomplished comedic actor. Here he turns the dial back to movies like “Joe and the Volcano” and “Sleepless in Seattle,” playing a likeable character you want to root for. He brings the funny but also oozes an everyman charm that makes it hard not to get onside with the character.

The combination of Hanks and Roberts (yes, she does have her trademarked laughing scene), backed by a talented, quirky and eclectic supporting cast including Cedric the Entertainer, George Takei, Pam Grier and Bryan Cranston (who is actually wasted here as Julia’s one-note porn loving husband), elevates what might have been a simple sitcom premise into something that is occasionally touching and more often than not sweetly funny.

“Larry Crowne” understands its audience. It’s an uplifting comedy about middle age, brave enough to tackle modern problems like downsizing and foreclosure, but non-challenging enough to weave all the bad stuff into a pseudo romantic comedy that makes great use of its cast. It’s timely enough, but its sunny “it’s never too late to change your life” outlook is pure Hollywood.

MONTE CARLO: 1 ½ STARS

“Monte Carlo” sees three small town girls thrust into a world of Polo, fancy balls and good looking princes with exotic accents. It’s a buddy comedy plus one, (3 is the new 2 in comedy duos!) showcasing the talents of Disney star (and Bieber BFF) Selena Gomez, and Gossip Girls' Leighton Meester and Katie Cassidy.

Gomez is Cinderella… er… Grace, a recent high school grad who saved four years worth of tips from her waitressing job to pay for her dream—a trip to Paris. Along for the ride are her free-spirited best friend Emma (Cassidy) and evil step sister Meg (Meester). Instead of finding the new life she was expecting in France she finds nothing but pushy tour guides and fat men in berets until she is mistaken for heiress Cordelia Winthrop-Scott. For a few days she lives Winthrop-Scott’s glamorous life—it’s not stealing, she says, “it’s seizing the moment”—with her two American ladies-in-waiting before real life brings her crashing back to earth. But, because this is based on a fairy tale you know that by the end all three will wind up with the Prince Charmings they deserve.

Try as it might “Monte Carlo” doesn’t have the joie de vivre it should have to go along with its screwball premise. Mistaken identity is one of the cornerstones of the screwball genre, yet this movie is not screwy enough by half to be really entertaining. There’s some slapstick and attempts at comedy, but the pace is so s-l-o-w it sucks the funny out of what could have been an amusing little tween romp.

The Lisa Kudrow-esque Katie Cassidy gives it a go, bringing some spunk to the proceedings and Leighton Meester can do earnest rather well, but the film’s heavy lifting is left to Gomez who, as a lead actor, proves she’s charismatic, but not quite ready to headline a film.

For Gomez’s fans the setting, romance and clothes may be enough to sell the movie but anyone old enough to not know what “Wizards of Waverly Place” is may have a harder time finding enjoyment here. 

“Monte Carlo” doesn’t fall down because of the predictable story—if you can’t figure it out on your own the trailer pretty much spells it out for you—or because of Gomez’s appalling English accent. No, it’s the film’s blandness that brings it down. If you’re in the mood for rags-to-princesses stories this weekend better off to rent either “The Princess Diaries” or “What a Girl Wants” instead.

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.
 
BAD TEACHER: 3 GOLD STARS
 
In the new Cameron Diaz movie, “Bad Teacher,” she plays – you guessed it – a bad teacher! More concerned with hooking up with a wealthy co-worker (played by her real life ex Justin Timberlake) than with her students, she doesn’t make much of an effort to actually educate until she learns there’s a cash bonus for the teacher with the highest classroom grade average.
 
Diaz will never be the funny, fresh face she was in "There's Something About Mary" and "The Mask," and in "Bad Teacher" that's a good thing. The very slight patina of age and experience in her manner adds some extra desperation to Elizabeth, who is pretty on the outside but ugly underneath.
 
It's a daring character to build a comedy around, and luckily, as good as Diaz is, she is leading a well cast ensemble. English actress Lucy Punch (last seen over here in the Woody Allen film You Will Meet a Tall Dark Stranger) brings some off kilter energy to Amy, a tightly wound teacher uses cute sayings,--like "I have weapons of math destruction."—to teach her class. Also strong are "The Office's" Phyllis Smith, Justin Timberlake, who performs the year's most uncomfortable sex scene, and Thomas Lennon, but the movie's heart and soul belong to Jason Segal who brings a easy humor and a great deal of charm to the role of gym teacher Russell. His warmth is a nice, and needed counterbalance to Diaz's caustic gold digger.
 
The supporting cast don't exactly rescue this movie--it doesn't need rescuing--but without them "Bad Teacher" wouldn't be nearly as much fun. "Bridesmaids" is still the funniest movie of the summer, but it is heartening to see another female lead comedy score so well.
 
HAPPYTHANKYOUMOREPLEASE DVD: 2 ½ STARS
 
“Happythankyoumoreplease” is the kind of movie Woody Allen might have made if he wasn’t a genius. Set in New York City it’s a look at the lives of a series of interconnected late-twenty-somethings as they navigate their way from hipsterhood to adulthood.
 
Writer-director Josh Radnor (who also stars on TV’s “How I Met Your Mother”) is Sam, a freelance writer who “adopts” Rasheen (Michael Algieri), a boy he finds on the subway. The youngster, separated from his foster family, becomes entwined in the lives of Sam’s friends, bartender and singer (and love interest) Mississippi (Kate Mara), Mary Catherine and Charlie a painter and filmmaker played by Zoe Kazan and Pablo Schreiber and Annie (Malin Akerman), a friend with alopecia and her suitor Sam # 2 (Tony Hale). Together and separately they traverse the gap between where they are, and where they’re going.
 
“Happythankyoumoreplease” is a likeable but slight movie, the kind of indie flick you probably didn’t go see when it played for a week at your local theatre. It starts off strong as we get to know the characters but by the time Sam and friends, by sheer repetition, have burned the hipster mantra “awesome” into your deepest consciousness, the movie wears a little thin.
 
But what it lacks in real depth it makes up for in charisma. Radnor (who proves himself a capable director) makes for an interesting central character, funny and self-depreciating and Malin Akerman, as the hairless girl with self esteem issues, shines.
 
In the end if you scratch “Happythankyoumoreplease’s” cooler-than-cooler veneer there is an under coating of heart. It’s no Woody Allen, but worth a look.

GREEN LANTERN: 2 ½ STARS

Seven decades after first appearing in the pages of a DC comic book “The Green Lantern” comes to the big screen, but has it been worth the wait?

Ryan Reynolds plays Hal Jordan, a daredevil test pilot, driven to extremes by equal parts adrenaline and the memory of his late father, a superstar test pilot. Meanwhile in a galaxy far, far away an evil entity called the Parallax has escaped it’s prison and, after being penned up for eons is eager to generally cause intergalactic mayhem and wreak havoc on the Green Lanterns, an army of green-leotarded creatures who protect the universe. A showdown with Green Lantern veteran Abin Sur (Temuera Morrison) leaves the green suit near death. Before he shuffles off this mortal (and immortal) coil he must pass along his Green Lantern ring, which gives its recipient infinite power and a snappy green Lone Ranger mask. Enter Jordan. The ring finds him, and after a rocky start he becomes a superhero, battling not only the Parallax but its earthbound minion, the brilliant but evil Hector Hammond (Peter Sarsgaard).

There’s more story… but’s that’s all I could remember. This is an origin story so there’s loads of detail and a lot of exposition, but for a movie about a superhero who can manifest any thought his mind's eye can muster, this whole thing is short on imagination.

There are some cool aspects to the action. The idea that the Parallax feeds off people’s fear is a great, terrifying premise to hang a villain on and Sarsgaard’s transformation from nerdy Hector to nerdy Hector with a huge head provides some fun Jekyll and Hyde moments, but the whole film is bogged down by an overreliance on CGI.

There’s no way around big dollops of CGI in most of the films released between May and the end of August every year, but recently the movies that use it successfully have adopted a less is more attitude. The “wow” phase of computer generated images is over. Audiences know that anything is possible when you bang together the right bits of binary code. These days the trick is to find a balance between the organic and digital visual elements to create a satisfying whole.

Director Martin Campbell, a journeyman who specializes in making bland big budget action pics, goes too heavy on the CGI. Even Jordan’s silly little green mask is computer generated. Was the costumer off the day they needed him to don the mask?   
As for the cast, Reynolds tries to skate through using his Van Wilder charm and comic timing but doesn’t hit the right tone. By times he seems to be heading toward the lighter attitude of “Iron Man,” while in other scenes it’s strictly “Dark Knight” territory. He isn’t aided by a cliché-a-thon masquerading as a script, although once the action kicks in near the end it becomes less about the acting or the script and more about entertaining the eye.

“The Green Lantern” isn’t a terrible superhero movie, but it can’t hold a lantern to some of the seriously good ones we’ve seen lately like “The Dark Knight” or “Iron Man.”

MR. POPPER’S PENGUINS: 3 STARS

Jim Carrey is back acting opposite wildlife, but unlike the “Ace Ventura” movies, this time out he's not talking out of his bum, or doing anything which parents may take issue with. “Mr. Popper’s Penguins” is total family entertainment, paced for young ones but with enough story to keep older kids and parents interested.

Loosely based on Richard and Florence Atwater's classic 1938 children's book the movie sees Carrey playing the title character, a ruthless NYC real estate agent who inherits a penguin from his late, explorer father. Through a series of misunderstandings one penguin becomes six, and the entire brood becomes a birthday gift for Popper’s young son. As the penguins take over his life, Popper’s professional career—he’s trying to engineer a deal to buy New York’s legendary Tavern on the Green restaurant—goes into a deep freeze but his formerly flightless personal life soars.     

There are laughs in the film, more for the kids than the adults, but I'm not sure I would classify this as a comedy. Carrey has a few funny moments, the penguins—who could be more rightly called Mr. Popper’s Pooping Penguins—engage in some animal antics, and Popper’s “p” popping personal assistant takes alliteration to new heights, but the movie is more about heart than humor. It’s about the importance of families, of spending time with the ones you love, whether they are ex-wives, estranged kids or flightless tuxedo-wearing birds.

Carrey finds a balance between his expert slapstick and the more naturalistic style of acting he’s flirted with in movies like “The Majestic.” The clowning is fun, but his journey to becoming a better dad is the more effective and memorable part of the story.

This isn’t the first time Carrey has appeared in a live action kids’ flick but the dark edge he brought to “How the Grinch Stole Christmas” and “Lemony Snicket's A Series of Unfortunate Events” has been replaced with a sweet side, despite looking up penguin recipes on-line as an initial solution to his penguin problem.

“Mr. Popper’s Penguins” isn’t a classic children’s film, but in a summer cluttered with movies like “The Hangover Part 2” it is a welcome family alternative.     

BEGINNERS: 4 STARS

There’s a reason why “Beginners,” a melancholy new family drama starring Ewan McGregor, Christopher Plummer and Mélanie Laurent feels so authentic. Director Mike Mills (the “Thumbsucker” filmmaker, not the R.E.M. bassist) based elements of the story on his real life. The result is an intimate portrait of a man shaped by the influence of his parents.

In this nonlinear story we follow the broken timeline of Oliver’s (McGregor) broken life. He’s having a strange year. First his mother dies of cancer, then, just as he is coming to grips with her passing, his 75-year-old father Hal (Plummer) comes out of the closet, announcing that he’s always been gay and now that his wife is gone he’d like to explore that long buried aspect of his life. Hal’s news is followed by turns both good and bad. First he meets a wonderful man, but just as their relationship is blossoming he is diagnosed with stage four cancer. The cumulative effect of all these events sends Oliver deep inside his own head to a sad and bad place until he meets Anna (Laurent), a beautiful actress with father issues of her own.

Told in flashbacks embellished with many stylistic flourishes, the movie never allows Mill’s montages and other frills to overwhelm the story. Mills, who along with his personal connection to the story, brings a keen sense of how real people conduct themselves in times of stress, isn’t afraid to allow his characters to be introspective. A good portion of the story is internal, conveyed by McGregor’s dour expressions, Plummer’s dignity and Laurent’s vulnerability.

Even the meet cute of the McGregor and Laurent characters—her voice is shot, laryngitis, and she has to communicate with a notepad—which would normally be too quirky by half for me, works because this isn’t a fluffy rom com but a textured look at why people behave the way they do.   

Mills has also drawn expert performances from his cast. Plummer looks ripe to earn another Oscar nomination for his touching take on a man who finds happiness only to have it taken away too soon and McGregor and Laurent make a compelling couple.

Topping off the tender tale is the cutest on-screen dog since Benji who provides unique insight into Oliver’s emotional maturation.

SUPER 8: 4 STARS

J.J. Abrams directs “Super 8” the way he produced the TV show “Lost.” He draws out the suspense, doling out just enough detail, shocks and surprises to keep the story interesting and moving forward. He knows that the strength of the movie isn’t the special effects or the whatever-it-is that is causing all the trouble, but the relationship between the kids. Call it “Stand By Me” with a giant bug... or a monster... or something. I’m not saying what!

Welcome to the no spoiler zone! Here’s what I can tell you about “Super 8”: The action begins with six Lillian, Ohio kids shooting an amateur zombie movie. As their super 8 films rolls they witness a terrifying real life train derailment. Soon strange things start happening in town as they army tries their best to contain the situation.
 
“Super 8” is one part “Goonies,” two parts “Fright Night,” a dash of “Cloverfield” topped off with a liberal pinch of Spielberg glow. The story, the set-up and the characters feel like a throwback to the great teen action adventure movies of the mid-eighties, and while many people have tried to recapture that sensitive mix of sentimentality, vulgarity and menace, few have actually hit it on the head. JJ Abrams nails it. Perhaps it because he had some heavy weight help—Steven Spielberg, master of the genre is listed as a producer—but despite the Spielbergian flourishes, this still very much feels like an Abrams creation.

His fingerprints are all over the action sequences—particularly the out-of-control train wreck scene—and even the sweetness we’ve come to associate with Spielberg has been dialed back. It’s still there—very much so in the film’s last ten minutes—but Abrams manages to set the tone as though he is paying homage to the saccharine tendencies of his mentor than actually aping him.

There is a sense of wonder to “Super 8” that permeates almost every scene. Whether audiences raised on a steady diet of Michael Bay will buy into it is yet to be determined, but for me some of that familiar glow is a welcome sight. 
  
JUDY MOODY AND THE NOT BUMMER SUMMER: 2 STARS

By the end of “Judy Moody and the Not Bummer Summer” Judy won’t be the only moody one. Parents unlucky enough to have to attend this manic adaptation of the popular Megan McDonald book series will likely go through a gamut of moods including irritation and vexation.

The story is simple enough. Judy (Jordana Beatty) a precocious third grader on summer break, planned to have the greatest school holiday of her life, but when her best friends leave for circus camp and an extended trip to Borneo she is left to her own devices. As the movie’s title implies, things look up when her parents get called away to California and bring in free spirited Aunt Opal (Heather Graham) to babysit. Suddenly the summer’s not such a bummer after all.

This is a movie for the eight-and-under crowd, a loud, hyper slice of shenanigans that doesn’t aim to entertain anyone over a grade three reading level. What it lacks in story it makes up for in slapstick which is probably fine for the pre-tweens but will test the will of their guardians to stay in their seats for the whole ninety minute running time.

Mixed in with plucky Judy’s tomfoolery are some messages about friendship and imagination but they are overwhelmed by the movie’s chaotic middle hour wall of noise.

Despite the presence of the fetching “Boogie Nights” star Heather Graham there’s nothing particularly cinematic about “Judy Moody and the Not Bummer Summer,” which suggests that a viewing could wait until it comes out on DVD… and parents can safely sit in the next room while the kids watch this on TV.

TREE OF LIFE: 4 STARS

Terrence Malick is probably the biggest name director whose movies you’ve never seen. His is the kind of name filmy types like to toss into conversations as a test to see how deep your knowledge of movies runs. Having made just five movies since 1973 he is less productive than a four toed sloth, but as a chef I know used to say, “do you want it fast, or do you want it good?”

His latest, “Tree of Life,” is a star studded look at life, death and the birth of the universe. He compresses the history of the world, mankind and the lives of a Waco, Texas family into two hours and twenty minutes. This coming of age story—or more rightly a coming of the ages story—is impressionistic storytelling, nonlinear, non-story based but not nonsensical.

It’s a deeply spiritual movie—from the Job quote that begins the story to the Amen chorus at the end—that asks the big questions—Why do awful things happen? Are we always in God’s hands?—often in reverential, whispered tones. Style wise Malick constantly tilts the camera upwards, keeping an eye on the heavens.  

This is not light summer entertainment. In fact, some will think this is pretentious twaddle, while others will see a movie that replaces traditional storytelling with deep seated feelings.

I’m leaning ever so slightly toward the pretentious twaddle camp, certainly in the film’s first hour, where Malick inserts a long sequence detailing the abovementioned birth of the universe. Faces and lifelike shapes appear in the primordial goop that makes up much of this extended creation scene, and by the time the dinosaurs appear it is hard to remember this is a movie starring Brad Pitt and Sean Penn.

What does it mean? Not sure. Narratively it adds little to the film and as artful as it may be it feels too new agey by half. But as pretentious twaddle goes, it’s really beautiful. If this movie was made in 1968 it would have been a “head” movie, delighting stoners at midnight screenings.

But it’s not 1968, so luckily the first forty minutes gives way to a slightly less impressionistic mid section, based mostly in the family home of Mr. and Mrs. O'Brien (Brad Pitt and Jessica Chastain) and their three kids. It’s a feel, a hazy look at growing up.
Pitt impresses as the upwardly mobile, but thin skinned tyrant father; a man who thought he did everything right only to discover his instincts were off. There’s also a surprising character arc in a movie that is more about intuition than arcs. The family story is effective, its Malick’s struggle to place it within a much larger context and the constantly shifting points of view that obscure the film’s main point, a questioning of faith in the light of great personal tragedy.

Obscured though the point may be, this is one seriously beautiful film. Malick has his characters talk about living in a state of grace—love everyone, every leaf, every ray of light—and it’s not hard to imagine that is an echo of his filmmaking ethos. He finds splendor in the things we don’t see onscreen very often anymore, a pure shot of fireflies flittering in the darkness, landscapes and nature, unadulterated, left alone to speak for themselves.

Critics will use words like textural, nuanced to describe “Tree of Life.” I’ll add a few more. Heartfelt, willfully obscure and intriguing.

X-MEN: FIRST CLASS: 4 STARS

“X-Men: The Younguns” has its share of things that go boom but it doesn’t follow the summer blockbuster format. There aren’t action sequences every ten minutes, the characters actually talk to one another and there’s even subtitles! What a relief. After the heavy metal bombast of “Thor” and its ilk, “X-Men” is more like the art rock of a Radiohead disc—brainy but still fun.

From concentration camps in Poland to a mansion in Westchester, NY, “First Class” details the evolution of the mutant band of X-Men (and Women). We learn how the two most powerful mutants, Eric / Magneto (Michael Fassbender) and Professor Charles Xavier (James McAvoy) get along long enough to put together a team of mutants, but soon find themselves on opposite side in a game of Free to Be You and Me. Add in some former Nazis, the Cuban Missile Crisis and Betty Draper and you have one of the most satisfyingly good blow-‘em’-up movies of the year so far.

“X-Men: First Class” is a bit talkier than you might expect from a big budget comic book movie, but at least they’re saying something. It isn’t just chatter. Mixed in with the action and the one-liners you expect from these kinds of films is a parable about tolerance and social context with a timely edge—one line in particular, “Security is more important than liberty,” sounds scarily up to date—but the reason it all works so well is that it has the best of all worlds, good crash-boom-bang, great villains, cool characters and a script that respects all of the above. If they wanted to make it less chatty, I suppose they could cut some of January Jones’s lines. One thing is for sure, acting is not her super power.

The other actors, however, do their best to make us forget that Patrick Stewart and Sir Ian McKellen once donned the mutant black and yellow uniforms. McAvoy brings real heart to the role of Xavier and Fassbender is edgy enough to really make us believe the rage that fuels Magneto. Of the teen mutants only Jennifer Lawrence, as the shape shifting blue lady Mystique and Nicholas Hoult as Beast do something interesting with their characters, even though Beast’s mask looks like a dollar store purchase. The others are underdeveloped embryonic characters that provide some color but not much else to the story. Hopefully if any of them come back they’ll do more than spit fire or flutter insect wings.

Stealing the show is Kevin Bacon as the power hungry Sebastian Shaw. Trying to take over the world is serious business, but that doesn’t stop Bacon from having some serious fun with the role.   

“X-Men: First Class” is a welcome addition to the “X-Men” movie series and a great example of how big blockbuster entertainment can entertain the eye (thanks January Jones and Jennifer Lawrence) and the mind.

MIDNIGHT IN PARIS: 4 STARS

The cliché when reviewing a Woody Allen film is to play the “Spot the Woody” game. Since Allen stopped actually appearing in his own films it has become de rigueur to speculate on which role Woody would have played. It’s a bit of a tired game, but in his new film, “Midnight in Paris,” (which opened the most recent Cannes Film Festival) Owen Wilson is clearly playing the part. He’s a nostalgic Hollywood screenwriter who yearns to be taken seriously as an author. It’s Woody alright, despite Wilson’s California beach bum style.

In a story that harkens back to Allen’s older magic realism films like “Purple Rose of Cairo,” Gil Pender (Wilson), an American on vacation in France, finds himself transported back to 1920s Paris. For a man with “golden Age” fantasies it’s a dream come true. He meets F. Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald (Tom Hiddleston, last seen as Loki from “Thor” and Alison Pill), hangs out with surrealists, sees Cole Porter sing at a party, drinks with Hemmingway and tries to steal Picasso’s girl Adriana (Marion Cotillard). Bringing him back to reality is his irritating present day fiancée Inez (Rachel McAdams) and her obnoxious parents.

It must first be said that “Midnight in Paris” is worth the price of admissions for the lovely shots of the fetching Marion Cotillard strolling the streets of Paris in a flapper dress. It’s also worth it to see Woody do for 1920s Paris what he did for 1970s Manhattan. He has one character say, “that Paris exists and anyone would choose to live anywhere else is a mystery to me,” and after seeing the film it’s hard not to agree. Allen’s cities are often as much a character as any of the actors and Paris is no exception. Now if he’d only shoot in Toronto. It might help tourism.

“Midnight in Paris” is a fantasy, but there is a point. Every generation looks back at the past with envy, Gil comes to realize that there really never was a “golden age” and that top be truly happy he must live in the present. That resolution is a bit of a revelation coming from Woody Allen, a man whose films seem to be from a different age but the skill he brings to this film proves he’s still a vital interesting filmmaker and not a relic from a past age.   

GOOD NEIGHBOURS: 3 ½ STARS

A thriller about friendship, serial killers and lies set against the backdrop of the 1995 referendum on the separation of Quebec, Good Neighbors has a Twin Peaks feel. That is, if that show had been directed by Dario Argento. The lives of three neighbors in a Notre-Dame-de-Grace neighbourhood walk-up become entwined, leading to murder—dead cats and tenants—suspicion and double and triple crosses. The undeniable sweetness director Jacob Tierney brought to his last film The Trotsky is out the window, replaced by a delicious sense of mischief and mayhem. Also showing their dark sides are stars Jay Baruchel, Scottt Speedman and Emily Hampshire.

BEGINNERS: 4 STARS

There’s a reason why “Beginners,” a melancholy new family drama starring Ewan McGregor, Christopher Plummer and Mélanie Laurent feels so authentic. Director Mike Mills (the “Thumbsucker” filmmaker, not the R.E.M. bassist) based elements of the story on his real life. The result is an intimate portrait of a man shaped by the influence of his parents.

In this nonlinear story we follow the broken timeline of Oliver’s (McGregor) broken life. He’s having a strange year. First his mother dies of cancer, then, just as he is coming to grips with her passing, his 75-year-old father Hal (Plummer) comes out of the closet, announcing that he’s always been gay and now that his wife is gone he’d like to explore that long buried aspect of his life. Hal’s news is followed by turns both good and bad. First he meets a wonderful man, but just as their relationship is blossoming he is diagnosed with stage four cancer. The cumulative effect of all these events sends Oliver deep inside his own head to a sad and bad place until he meets Anna (Laurent), a beautiful actress with father issues of her own.

Told in flashbacks embellished with many stylistic flourishes, the movie never allows Mill’s montages and other frills to overwhelm the story. Mills, who along with his personal connection to the story, brings a keen sense of how real people conduct themselves in times of stress, isn’t afraid to allow his characters to be introspective. A good portion of the story is internal, conveyed by McGregor’s dour expressions, Plummer’s dignity and Laurent’s vulnerability.

Even the meet cute of the McGregor and Laurent characters—her voice is shot, laryngitis, and she has to communicate with a notepad—which would normally be too quirky by half for me, works because this isn’t a fluffy rom com but a textured look at why people behave the way they do.    

Mills has also drawn expert performances from his cast. Plummer looks ripe to earn another Oscar nomination for his touching take on a man who finds happiness only to have it taken away too soon and McGregor and Laurent make a compelling couple.

Topping off the tender tale is the cutest on-screen dog since Benji who provides unique insight into Oliver’s emotional maturation.

THE HANGOVER PART 2: 1 ½ STARS

The action in “The Hangover Part 2” starts as so many bad benders do, with the simple words, “Come and have a drink with me and the guys” and ends after as debauched ride through the streets of Bangkok as has ever been committed to film. The first time around, in 2009, the day after the night before adventures of the Wolfpack—Bradley Cooper, Zach Galifianakis and Ed Helms—was fresh, even charming in an alcoholic haze kind of way. This time out the guys have all the charm of stale beer breath.

The set up is similar to the first film.  This time around Phil (Cooper) and Alan (Galifianakis) are groomsmen at their buddy Stu (Helms) Thailand wedding. One thing leads to another and they wake up in a grotty Bangkok hotel room, minus one of the wedding party, Teddy (Mason Lee), Stu’s bride-to-be’s brother.  To find him they must re-enact the first movie... er... turn Bangkok upside down.

“The Hangover Part 2” has a severe case of sequelitis. It tries to please the core “Hangover” audience by presenting a familiar—some would say photocopied—plot, but also introduces new, darker humor in an attempt to keep things fresh. Neither is really successful. The recycled plot points borrowed from the original—Stu writes a song about their adventures, there’s the Tyson tattoo, hookers and the mystery of a missing friend—don’t work as well the second time through and the movie’s dark tone dampens many of the laughs.

Ed Helms spends much of the movie screaming, “I can’t believe this is happening again,” and frankly, by the end of the first hour, neither can the audience.

Galifianakis brings most of the laughs to the movie, but his unbalanced brand of humour is hit and miss and the character Alan is better in small doses, not as the main fount of funny.

There is nothing as hilarious here as the first movie’s tiger in the bedroom or the closing credit’s Polaroids. If these guys decide to go for a third binge, perhaps they should call Dr. Drew first.  

KUNG FU PANDA 2: 3 ½ STARS

“Kung Fu Panda 2’s” all star mix of action, slapstick and furry fists of fury makes for a mighty kid friendly martial arts movie.

The story begins with a fable about Shen (Gary Oldman), a peacock hungry for revenge after being kicked out of his kingdom by his parents. Unless he and his fire breathing weapon are stopped it could mean the end of Kung Fu, but how can Kung Fu stop a weapon that can stop Kung Fu? That is the question Po (Jack Black) and the rest of the Furious Five (Angelina Jolie as Tigress, Jackie Chan as Monkey, Lucy Liu as Viper, Seth Rogen as Mantis and David Cross as Crane) must ponder as they try and save China and their sacred martial art.

“Kung Fu Panda 2” doesn’t exactly improve on the original, a surprise hit from 2008, but it maintains status quo. The new film is a little sketchier with the story—there is a subplot about Po’s real parents that only appears to have been included to add some heart to the mostly action storyline and to set up a threequel—which seems to take a backseat to the frenetic, but kid friendly, action scenes, but it’s buoyed by some high kicking animation and good voice work from the leads, particularly Jack Black and Oldman, as Shen, the silky voiced villain.

The 3D doesn’t get in the way of the beautiful animation, and actually adds a layer of excitement to the action scenes. The animation, both in the present day scenes and Po’s vibrant anime inspired sequences, is a cut above any other non-Pixar work out there.

The film, like all good martial arts films is heavy on the action scenes, but the best stuff isn’t the big set pieces but the smaller set pieces. When Po, disguised as a parade dragon eats a baddie and then digests him and... excretes him out the back end of the costume it’s imaginative and kid-tastic fun. The wilder scenes are nicely put together but the smaller intimate scenes have more punch.

“Kung Fu Panda 2” is just one of 27 sequels hitting theatres this year, but so far it’s one of the better ones.

PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN: ON STRANGER TIDES: 1 ½ STARS

My main question after watch the new Pirates movie is, If this was the first one of the series would we have had a two, three and four? I don’t think so. It’s a big splashy epic, but lacks the fun and Johnny’s joie de vivre of the original. It feels like Disney has plundered the “PotC” treasure chest one too many times.

At the behest of King George, Barbossa (Geoffrey Rush), a one-time pirate now turned privateer, is searching for the fabled Fountain of Youth. His job is to claim it for England before the Spanish armada gets there. Meanwhile, Captain Jack Sparrow (Depp) is shanghaied to work on board a ship run by the evil Blackbeard (Ian McShane) and Jack’s old flame Angelica (Penelope Cruz). They’re after the fountain too, but first must fight off man hungry mermaids.

The “PotC” movies have never made a great deal of sense—there’s more plot twists and turns that there are lines on co-star Keith Richard’s face—but they’ve always had a forward momentum based on Depp’s charm and some cool special effects. “On Stranger Tides” doesn’t ever feel like it really gets up and running. The first hour is spent setting up the second hour, so expect lots of exposition broken up by the kind of action scenes that used to be the trademark of the series.

Now, in the hands of director Rob Marshall, who takes over from Gore Verbinski, the action sequences are as well choreographed as you might expect from the man who made “Chicago”  and “Nine,” but as as exciting as you would expect action sequences made by a man who specializes in musicals to be. Again, not surprisingly, he uses music effectively, particularly in the first big set piece as the king’s guards chase Sparrow through the palace and into the streets of London, but despite the booming soundtrack the visuals fall flat. I liked the mermaids and think their attack sequence is the most exciting thing in the movie, but I may be wrong simply because the movie is so dark I may have missed something.

Also on the flat side is Depp. Maybe playing the same character four times in eight years has taken some of the swash out of his buckle, or perhaps the limitations of Captain Jack are becoming apparent. Either way he’s no longer the most interesting character in the “PotC” universe. Once again Rush steps up and keeps Barbossa interesting, but the best character of the bunch is McShane’s nasty Blackbeard. He mad, bad and dangerous to know, and he adds some much needed spark to the second half of the movie.

“PotC: On Stranger Tides” has all the elements we want from the franchise—supernatural creatures, swashbuckling and swaggering Depp—and less of what we don’t want—Orlando Bloom and Keira Knightley and their convoluted love story have been thrown overboard—but isn’t exciting enough to shiver anyone’s timbers.

LAST NIGHT: 1 STAR

The only thing worse than hearing the words, “We need to talk about our relationship,” is hearing other people actually talking endlessly about their relationships. Such is the tedium of “Last Night,” a talky new drama starring Keira Knightley and “Avatar’s” Sam Worthington.

Keira and Sam are a married couple living in a cool downtown NYC loft. She a freelance writer, he sells commercial real estate. She has the dreaded ex-Parisian boyfriend (Guillaume Canet), he has a flirty co-worker (Eva Mendes). When he leaves town for one night on business their commitment to one another will be challenged.

Usually I don’t mind talking head movies, especially when the heads doing the talking are as attractive as Knightley, Mendes, Worthington and Canet, but my patience was tested by this bunch of chatty, introspective, insecure basket-cases. There’s garrulous and then there’s the script for “Last Night.” It appears to simply be made up of a series of monologues about love, life and relationships, most of which begin with a line like, “Remind me why it didn’t work out between us.” Even worse are the clumsy attempts at metaphor. In one scene Knightley and Worthington are having a tense cell phone conversation. “This isn’t a very good connection,” she says as her phone and relationship go on the fritz. Deep. Not.

The occasional effective moment—the way Knightley guiltily presses ignore on an incoming call from her husband—are overshadowed by the endless inane chatter. In one scene there’s a cut-a-way to the dog and even he looks bored. You can imagine how the audience feels.

FORKS OVER KNIVES: 3 STARS

Be prepared for lots of shots of fatty meats, operations and happy vegans. “Forks Over Knives,” a new documentary about the benefits of a vegan lifestyle is convincing in its message, just a little ham fisted (pun intended) in its delivery.

The film is based on the findings of Caldwell Esselstyn Jr. and T. Colin Campbell, Ph.D., two doctors who, working independently, found direct links between diet and health. Not such big news. We all know that eating a steady diet of fast food and fried chicken is bad for us, but did you know that a diet rich in fruits, vegetables and whole grains will not only help quell global warming but cure you of everything from high blood pressure to erectile dysfunction?

Writer/director Lee Fulkerson finds out first hand when he leaves his diet of Red Bulls and frat house food behind and goes veggie. In a flip flop of Morgan Spurlock’s famous all-McDonald’s-all-the-time experiment in “Supersize Me,” Fulkerson discovers that a “whole food plant based diet” makes him feel healthier and more energetic.

That’s the thrust of “Forks Over Knives” and while it is well backed up—there’s loads of case studies and testimonials, and endless data—the material is presented with all the flair of a high school hygiene movie. Remember those? Its heart is in the right place but its attempts at fair and balanced reporting are lacking—pro animal diet speakers have unappealing shots of fatty meats edited over their talking head clips—and the film occasionally suffers from shoddy production value.

Still, like Brussels sprouts the “Forks Over Knives” film is good for you. Your eyes will be opened by some of the information presented, and proves that you really can’t have your cake and eat it too… unless that cake is made with soy milk and egg replacement powders.
 
THE FIRST GRADER: 3 STARS

“The First Grader” is an inspirational movie set against the backdrop of a classroom, but unlike “Dead Poets Society” or “Coach Carter,” this time out it’s a student providing the uplift.

Based on the true story of Kimani N'gan'ga Maruge, an 84 year-old Kenyan villager and ex Mau Mau freedom fighter, “The First Grader” is the story of an elderly man’s fight to earn a fundamental right—to get an education. Denied schooling as a child, then imprisoned following a Mau Mau uprising against British imperialism in East Africa, the old man simply wants to learn to read so he may read and understand for himself a letter sent by the government offering compensation for his contribution to his country’s liberation from tyranny.

“The First Grader” might have made a good educational and motivational movie for kids but the violent scenes of British brutality are only appropriate for an older audience. The fullness of the story—and horror—are slowly revealed in flashbacks of Maruge’s life as we witness his torture and the unbearable sight of his wife and child murdered by British soldiers. Not for the kiddies, but compelling stuff.

The inspirational part of the story takes place in the present day. Maruge’s determination to get the education offered to all citizens is touching. At first he is rejected by the teachers at the school, Jane Obinchu (Naomie Harris), among them, before his resolve erodes away their objections. Then he stands up to the townsfolk who feel his presence in the kindergarten is taking teaching time away from their kids, then he must fight bureaucrats, corruption and controversy all in the effort to learn to read.

The story occasionally veers into melodrama but overall is a study in strength and dignity as personified by the old man and Jane, his young teacher.

BRIDESMAIDS: 4 STARS
 
The big mistake people will make about “Bridesmaids,” a new comedy starring an ensemble of female comedians headed by Kristen Wiig, is that it is a chick flick or a female version of “The Hangover.” It has elements of both, but is closer in spirit to “Knocked Up” or “The Forty Year Old Virgin;” heartfelt comedies that place the characters first and the laughs second.

When we first meet Annie (Kristen Wiig, who also co-wrote the script), her life is in tatters. Her business is a victim of a downturned economy and her boyfriend (Jon Hamm) calls her his “number three.” When her best friend Lillian (Maya Rudolph) asks Annie to be her maid of honor she should be thrilled but is overwhelmed by the job and her fellow bridesmaids (Rose Byrne, Melissa McCarthy, Wendi McLendon-Covey and Ellie Kemper) or as Lillian calls them, the “stone cold pack of weirdoes.”

Kristen Wiig was the best thing to happen to “Saturday Night Live” in years but her big screen output has been somewhat underwhelming. In movies like “MacGruber” and “Paul” it always felt to me like she was simply acting in a long form sketch. She’s always funny, but I never felt like there was a real depth of character there. Until “Bridesmaids” that is. Her work as the neurotic but mostly well meaning Annie is a breakthrough, proving that being funny and having feelings are not mutually exclusive.

The rest of the cast impresses as well. Like Wiig, Rudolph has both the comedic and dramatic chops to make us laugh and care about the characters, and Rose Byrne steps outside of the dramas we’re used to seeing her in to deliver a subdued but very funny performance. Irish actor Chris O’Dowd, virtually the only male actor to utter a line apart from Jon Hamm in a raunchy cameo, brings an enormous amount of charm to the role of Rhodes, the lovelorn cop. There’s good chemistry all round, a key element that prevents the story from veering into rom com territory.

So far I’ve talked about “feelings” and used words like “heartfelt” to describe “Bridesmaids,” but don’t get me wrong, this is still a wild comedy. It doesn’t out-raunch the “Hangover” guys, but there are bodily function jokes a plenty, one very funny sex scene and language that would make a teamster blush. The girls can throw it down with the guys, but somehow it’s not as gross. Much of it is still gross, just not as gross.

“Bridesmaids” is the funniest movie so far this year and should appeal to everyone, not just women.
         
MEET MONICA VELOUR: 3 STARS

In “Meet Monica Velour” Kim Cattrall, best known as “Sex and the City’s” iconic Samantha Jones, plays the title character, a former porn star, now a struggling, single mom. Her life changes when she befriends her biggest fan, Tobe (Dustin Ingram), an awkward eighteen-year-old boy who learns to accept her for what she is—she’s really Linda Romanoli—not for what she was.

‘You screw a few hundred guys,” Linda says, “and the whole world turns against you.”

“Meet Monica Velour” could have simply been Tobe’s coming of age story from mouth-breather to maturity, or a seedy look at a former porn star’s sad existence, or a May-December sex comedy but the quality of the performances and writing elevates it to interesting character study.

The character of Dustin is part Napoleon Dynamite, part Seymour from “Ghost World.” He’s a nerdy outsider with a passion for the past, and on the surface, an indie film staple. But Ingram dials back the eccentricity as much as the script allows, lifting the character above the level of cliché. The film could probably live without his underwear dancing scene, but the movie and its director Keith Bearden treat Tobe with respect and not just a quirky collection of personality tics.

As good as Ingram is, this is Catrall’s show. She’s left her “Sex and the City” Louboutins behind to present a rough and ready portrait of a woman on the downside of life. It’s hard not to relate Monica nee Linda’s struggles to create a life outside of her screen persona to Cattrall’s own close identification to Samantha Jones. Linda is not Monica, and Kim is not Samantha and the actress’s performance in this film should go a long way to dampening that association. If anyone sees this small indie film it should establish Cattrall as one of the more interesting performers in her age range.

I was sold on the film after one scene which feels comedic in the moment, but reveals itself to be dripping with pathos. Dustin and Linda have fought, and she’s in tears. Unsure of what to do he asks her an autograph, thinking that he’s about to be asked to leave and will likely never see her again. She flips from wounded woman to porn professional in a heartbeat and asks, “Do you want it on your underwear?”

Funny line, but not a funny situation as it reveals the tawdry way that Monica has learned to approach relationships.   
 
“Meet Monica Velour” could have been just another idiosyncratic indie film, relying on the entertainment value of its quirky characters but Bearden and Cattrall, aided by an able supporting cast, including a scene stealing Brian Dennehy, brings real warmth to the story.

THOR: 3 STARS

Its hammer time at the movies this weekend. Thor, the sledgehammer superhero feels like an amuse-bouche for the big Avengers movie coming up next year, but with its rippling muscles, crazy mythology and giant Frost monsters, it’s still a bit of fun. Not “Iron Man” fun, but more of a good time than you’d imagine a superhero movie directed by Kenneth Branagh might be.

Based on the Marvel comic book, the action in “Thor” really begins with our hero about to be named king by his father (Anthony Hopkins). Seconds before daddy says the words, “You are king,” Frost Giants from an enemy realm interrupt the ceremony. Furious that his big day has been marred Thor (Chris Hemsworth) disobeys his father and skips realms to confront the invaders. The punishment for his reckless, arrogant behavior is banishment to Earth and the arms of meteorologist Jane Foster (Natalie Portman), which isn’t so bad, but he misses his home planet.  

Branagh brings a Shakespearean feel to the story, blending all the bard’s universal themes—love, deception, death and daddy issues—with the stuff of superhero movies. Classing up the joint a little bit is Anthony Hopkins, although the way he chews the scenery it's like he hasn't eaten in a month.

Unlike its star, however, the incredibly buff Chris Hemsworth, the movie is a bit soft in the middle. It starts off well, slows to a crawl midway, but as soon as Thor Gets His Groove back... er... Gets His Hammer Back the movie gets back on track.

The big problem here is the love story. Natalie Portman may be the hottest women in Hollywood right now, but the pirouettes that propelled her to Oscar glory this year are noticeably missing here. I think she's miscast, a feeling reinforced by the presence of Kat Dennings in a throwaway role that she turns into a charismatic supporting part on the strength of her quirky comic timing. This movie would have more zip in the deadly mid section if she was the lead.

As for Hemsworth, initially I didn't know if he was going to cut it with his oh-so-serious line delivery, but later, when he's on earth he seems to be having fun as “the Mighty Thor" slow to realize he's lost his powers. The dramatic delivery brings a laugh when he goes into a pet store demanding to buy a horse so he can continue his journey. The movie actually is a lot funnier than I thought it would be, which, for a movie featuring costumes that wouldn’t look out of place in a Chippendale’s show is saying something.

“Thor” is a good popcorn movie, but be warned, it’s thunderously loud. Louder than Thor’s snores after a Busgrogg binge. Take earplugs.

SOMETHING BORROWED: 2 STARS

“Something Borrowed,” a new romantic comedy starring Kate Hudson and Ginnifer Goodwin as best friends has all the hallmarks we’ve come to expect from this kind of film, but somehow manages to be both more and less than the sum of its parts.

Darcy (Hudson) and Rachel (Goodwin) are lifelong friends and polar opposites. Darcy is a bubbly blonde, Rachel a brunette brooder. The thing they have in common is Dex (Colin Egglesfield), Rachel’s college crush and Darcy’s fiancée. When long buried feelings arise, questions like, “How come you never told me how you felt in law school?” are asked, and some unlikely people become cheaty-cheaters.

“Something Buried” comes complete with the usual ingredients for this kind of film. It’s set in New York City with the standard cast of characters—the goofy friend, the lovesick friend, gay friend (at least he pretends to be gay) and the best friend.

There’s the typical lifestyle porn—great clothes, cool apartments, Heineken product placement out the ying yang—the obligatory romantic rooftop scene, an epiphany in the rain and even a dance number. The only things missing are Julia Roberts and a fake orgasm scene.  

What “Something Borrowed” adds to the romantic comedy genre is an infidelity angle. It’s not unheard of for people to do a little rom com cheating from time to time, but rarely do they venture into “Fatal Attraction” territory (without the boiling rabbit) and offer up such potentially toxic side effects.

This is what I mean when I say that “Something Borrowed” is both more and less than the sum of its parts. The betrayal storyline sets the movie apart from the regular rom com, but then plays it safe. It’s a daring choice to have two main characters lie and cheat and become unsympathetic along the way, but its handled in such a way that by the end it’s hard to care about who cheated on who and why.
This might have been a better movie if the cast was shaken up. Dump the dull Dex character and have Rachel get involved with Ethan (“The Office’s” John Krasinski). As it is now he’s a glorified Greek chorus who comments on Rachel’s life. But make him the love interest and you’d have a movie with some natural charm, spunk and more heart than the lovesick Dex brings to the party.

“Something Borrowed” tries to be a different kind of rom com but ultimately plays it too safe to be unique.

THE BEAVER: 3 ½ STARS

Stand aside Oprah, Jodie Foster must be the most powerful woman in Hollywood, possibly in all the world. Not only did she get a difficult script, long thought to be brilliant but unfilmable, to the big screen but then got the movie released in spite of the disgraceful shenanigans of her star Mel Gibson. Gibson’s recent notoriety threatened to derail “the Beaver”—three release dates have come and gone—but Foster fostered on, and the film, about a depressed man who communicates through a beaver puppet hits theatres this weekend.

Not since Anthony Hopkins grappled with a vicious ventriloquist dummy in “Magic” has a puppet been such an effective dramatic device.

Gibson plays Walter Black, a man crippled by depression. His business and marriage have fallen apart, but after a failed suicide attempt he discovers an unconventional form of therapy. He finds a furry brown beaver puppet in a dumpster, which becomes his alternate personality; his only form of communication with the outside world. The change in Walter is miraculous; unfortunately one person’s miracle is nothing more than another person’s puppet and Walter’s newfound state of wellbeing isn’t appreciated by everyone.

Of course the big question here is: Will audiences be able to put aside Gibson’s recent cycle of loopy, offensive behavior and sit back and enjoy the film? If they can judge the art and not the artist they’ll find much to like here, but if not “The Beaver” will wither and die because Gibson (and his hand puppet) hogs the spotlight.

In light of all the well deserved bad press he’s received lately it’s hard to remember that once Gibson was a top box office draw and a charismatic screen presence. The bad press hasn’t diminished that. What it may have done is add a few worry lines to his face which are very effective reminders of Walter’s state of mind.

Gibson is very good, but he doesn’t steal the show. A side story to the puppet’s spiritual journey comes from Porter (Anton Yelchin), Walter’s eldest son. Porter is struggling not to be like his dad, and discovers a way out when he meets and falls for Norah (Oscar nominee Jennifer Lawrence), a pretty cheerleader with a perfect GPA but an imperfect life. Both hand in understated but effective performances, high on naturalism, which ground the more fanciful aspects of the story.

“The Beaver,” despite some funny visuals in the trailer is not a comedy. It is a dark exploration of mental illness and its effect on the family unit. Director Foster (as opposed to star Foster; she plays Walter’s wife) occasionally struggles with tone—it’s hard not to when your star speaks with a cockney accent through an ever present Beaver puppet—but in the end presents a unique and compelling look at a subject the movies don’t usually approach.

THE BANG BANG CLUB: 2 STARS

“The Bang Bang Club” would like to be an important movie about what happens to people when they’ve seen too much violence, too much inhumanity, just too much. In this case it’s a group of war photographers documenting South Africa’s struggle between the African National Congress and government-backed tribal factions. These men are up close and personal to the action, so why is it that the film and its message rings hollow?

Based on a book by Greg Marinovich and Joao Silver, two of the daredevil Bang Bang Club photographers—so named because they get close to real gunfire—the movie documents a year in the lives of Marinovich (Ryan Phillippe), Silva (Neels Van Jaarsveld), Kevin Carter (Taylor Kitsch) and Ken Oosterbroek (Frank Rautenbach). They are white photo journalists who prowl the townships looking for action. Photos are taken, Pulitzers are won but eventually they learn of the price they must pay for getting that close to the action.  

“The Bang Bang Club” plays as though it is at cross purposes with itself. On one hand it wants us to believe that Marinovich is devastated after he photographs a brutal murder as it is happening. Fine, explore that. But just as he’s going down the rabbit hole of depression—we know this because he becomes moody and argumentative—he also wins a Pulitzer Prize for the resulting picture and suddenly, the moral push and pull disappears and he’s popping the corks on champagne bottles.

It feels like every time the movie gets close to uncovering something that may feel authentic it shies away and goes for a Hollywood cliché instead.

It’s too bad because there is a great story here. This just isn’t it. 

POM WONDERFUL PRESENTS THE GREATEST MOVIE EVER SOLD: 2 ½ STARS

Everybody knows when Iron Man drinks a Dr. Pepper it’s not necessarily because he likes the taste of the soda, but because the good doctor paid beaucoup bucks to place the beverage in the superhero’s hand. Ditto the reason there are Coke glasses lined up in front of the “American Idol” judges and it ain’t to quench JoLo’s thirst.    That’s not news. What is newsworthy is how those soft drinks ended up where they did. Enter Morgan Spurlock, documentary filmmaker and professional everyman.

Spurlock, who has previously documented his attempts to eat nothing but McDonalds food for a month (the “docbuster” “Super Size Me”) and hunt down a terrorist (“Where in the World Is Osama Bin Laden?”), returns with a look into the murky world of product placement, or, as it is called now, brand integration. For ninety minutes we follow him, first person style, as he “goes on a quest to get some sweet Hollywood ad money.” He wins some (POM Wonderful buys naming rights for $1 million), he loses some (Nike says no) and along the way ponders the moral and ethical problems of sponsorship on his art.

Spurlock is an engaging guy, which is a good thing because he inserts himself into virtually every frame of the movie. His easy charm and sense of humor lend much to the doc, but half-an-hour or so in are muted by the film’s subject. This is essentially a movie about marketing. Marketing can be sexy—sex sells!—but the business of marketing by and large isn’t.

The idea that Spurlock can finance a film entirely by sponsorship is a great one, but by the time he starts talking about “cultural decay rate” and identity versus brand the movie starts to bog down, despite its attention deficit disorder pacing.

Perhaps more insight would have helped. Spurlock is a sound bite documentarian, who can lift a great quote from Ralph Nader like “Advertisements which say they are lying are the only ones telling the truth,” but then doesn’t seem to know exactly what to do with it. Ultimately he simply sums up with the message that marketing works. Not exactly groundbreaking stuff.

That should have been the starting point, with more attention paid to why it works in the body of the film. 

I wish nothing but good things for “The Greatest Movie Ever Sold.” By contract with his sponsors Spurlock has to hit certain goals—like $10 million box office—and I hope he succeeds, but next time out I’d like to see some of the cleverness exchanged for insight.

HOODWINKED TOO! HOOD VS. EVIL: 1 STAR

The title of “Hoodwinked Too! Hood VS. Evil” tells you all you need to know about the movie: punny and not very funny. Too bad the Big Bad Wolf didn’t get this one.

This animated action adventure kicks off with a rescue mission. The Happily-Ever-After squad is sent to save Hansel and Gretel (Bill Hader and Amy Poehler)—imagine a Grimm’s Fairy tale mixed with “Mission Impossible.” There’s the loopy lupine, the Big Bad Wolf (Patrick Warburton), his sidekick Twichy the squirrel, Granny (Glenn Close) and a host of other fairy tale characters. The only above-the-title character missing is Little Red Rising Hood (Hayden Panettiere) who is off at the Sisterhood of the Kung Fu Bakers learning the discipline of baking as self defense. The mission goes awry and when Granny is kidnapped by Verushka, the witch with glowing eyes (Joan Cusack), Little Red Riding Hood must return to save Granny and protect the secret of the Super Truffle.

“Hoodwinked Too! Hood VS. Evil” is “Shrek-lite.” It tries for the same kind of coolio mix of pop culture riffs and fairy tale lore that made the big green ogre a superstar, but comes up short. It’s not for lack of trying. Every second of the movie is filled with action, one-liners and Looney Toon-ish slapstick. Trouble is, none of it is very funny, and some of it is downright xenophobic and verging on homophobic. Several of the jokes were old when Henny Youngman used them and the characterizations of some of the supporting characters are a bit eyebrow-raising.

Sure there are the usual kid-friendly messages about friendship, perseverance—“A person can’t fail unless they give up—and some unusual messages about dieting but unfortunately they are wrapped up in a dull package that tries too hard to be likeable and fails miserably.    

PROM: 0 STARS

“Prom,” a new Disney film about high school’s perfect “forever night” is such a predictable hodge podge of teen clichés it makes the old After School Specials look like Franz Kafka.

Here’s what you need to know. Nova Prescott (Aimee Teegarden) is an overachieving senior and head of the prom committee. After spending weeks working on decorations for the big night a mysterious fire reduces her hard work to ash. Will the prom go on? Will school rebel Jesse Richter (Johnny Depp look-a-like Thomas McDonell) actually tune out to be a good guy? Will anyone care by the time the credits roll? Over the course of the extra long running time hearts are broken and mended, tears are spilled, rugs are cut and the true meaning of prom is revealed.      

“Prom” is as direct-to-DVD a movie as has graced big screens in some time. I know it is meant for teens and I’m decades older than the target audience, but really, I think there is a case to be made to bring the filmmakers up on charges of elder abuse for making me sit through this tedious exercise in youth entertainment.

It’s not only tedious, but insulting to the intelligence of its audience. I didn’t expect great art or envelope pushing, but this is as by the book as it gets.

The characters all seem borrowed from The Breakfast Club only without the special touch that John Hughes brought to his movies. The Johnny Depp lookalike almost brings the bad boys thing to life, but the rest of them are straight outta Central Casting.

And as for the story, anyone who doesn't know how this is going to end by the time the opening credits have played has never seen a movie before.

Predictable in the extreme, even the stuff this kind of movie usually gets right, like the comic relief, doesn't bring any relief.

Like the dance the movie is named after “Prom” seems more exciting before you actually go to it… afterwards it’s a letdown.

WATER FOR ELEPHANTS: 3 ½ STARS

“Water for Elephants” is told from the point of view of an older man. Looking back at the most important years of his life old Jacob Jankowski (Hal Holbrook) tells the story of how a 9000 pound pachyderm introduced him to his wife. At first I wondered why they bothered with this device. Other than giving us a chance to see Hal Holbrook, which is always welcome, it didn't seem to add much to the story. Then I realized that the tale has a warm fuzzy kind of glow that is the result of being told from the point of view of memory and not reality.

Set during the Great Depression, the flashback part of the movie begins with veterinary student Jacob Jankowski (Twilight’s Robert Pattinson) finding a job as a roustabout on the Benzini Brothers Most Spectacular Show on Earth circus. On the job he meets Marlena, (Reese Witherspoon) a beautiful equestrian star married to August (Inglourious Basterds’ Christoph Waltz), an abusive animal trainer. He falls in love with her while tending to Rosie, the faltering circus’ 9,000 pound star attraction.

“Water for Elephants” has a decidedly old fashioned feel. The old time carnies speak like characters out of a John Steinbeck novel and the treatment of the animals clearly predates PETA. There’s a nostalgic glow to every frame of the film which helps cover up occasionally overwrought dialogue like Jacob’s summation of his first day as a circus hand: “The Benzini Brothers outdid God himself. They build heaven in one day.” It’s a bit melodramatic, but makes narrative sense when seen as the foggy recollections of an old man looking back at the single most important time of his life. Who hasn’t embellished a detail or two when retelling a story?

The movie’s occasional excesses are overshadowed by the winning cast. Reese Witherspoon looks like she was born to sit atop an elephant, R. Patz gets more action here than in all the Twilight movies combined and Christoph Waltz once again shows he was a way with cruel and unusual characters.

The only thing missing from Waltz’s bad guy performance here is his SS uniform from Inglourious Basterds. He really is becoming Hollywood’s guy we love to hate, and he’s good at being bad, but I’d like to see if he can do other things as well. Pattinson on the other hand proved to me that he can play something other than a lovesick vampire, which, the success of Twilight aside, is kind of limiting career wise.

“Water for Elephants” is an old school epic, or at least as close as we get to an old school epic these days. It’s a movie for adults, although they’ll probably have to fight their way through the crowds of teens who’ll line up to catch Robert Pattinson without his fake fangs in place.

THE HIGH COST OF LIVING: 3 STARS

Debuting at the 2010 Toronto International Film Festival, “The High Cost of Living” details the unimaginable torment of its two main characters, the victim of a hit-and-run and the man who ran her down.

Set in Montreal the movie casts former “Scrubs” funnyman Zach Braff as drug dealer Henry Welles. Driving drunk, he hits a Nathalie (Isabelle Blais) a pregnant woman who lives in his neighborhood. He flees the scene, but overcome by guilt he seeks out Natalie. The relief he feels when he discovers she survived is short lived when he learns her child was killed in the accident and she will now give birth to a stillborn daughter. Without confessing his crime Henry befriends Nathalie, hoping to find some redemption, but the situation only becomes more complicated.  

“The High Cost of Living” is a performance driven film. Braff and Blais carry the weightiness of the story, handing in well modulated performances that stop the story from veering into melodrama. Their relationship isn’t always believable but their performances are.    

Braff brings as much charm as possible to Henry, a low life drug dealer, and almost makes us sympathize for him. But not quite. If anyone sees this movie it could be a career changer for him, breaking him out of the sitcom mold.

Blais brings a raw edge to Nathalie, playing her as a woman whose life has literally come crashing down all around her. Roles like this ride a fine line. Go too far and you swerve into Victorian stage melodrama, hold back and discover that silent suffering isn’t effective on film. Blais finds the right balance and is devastating as a haunted woman with a heavy heart.

Despite the presence of Braff “The High Cost of Living” isn’t a barrel of laughs. It’s a heavy, but not heavy-handed drama that isn’t exactly enjoyable—that would be the wrong word—but it is effective.

AFRICAN CATS: 3 STARS

“African Cats,” the new slice-of-life-and-death documentary from Disney Nature, is a beautifully shot look at feline life on the African savannah in Kenya. Narrated by Samuel L. Jackson, it is one movie that most certainly cannot run the disclaimer, “No animals were hurt during the making of this film.”

In an effort to create a dramatic structure directors Alastair Fothergill and Keith Scholey divide a section of the Masai Mara nature reserve in Kenya into two halves separated by a river. On one side is Kali, a young powerful lion and his sons, the other territory is ruled by Fang and his lionesses. Also present is Seta, a mother cheetah who is raising five cubs. Narrator Jackson narrates the story of how their lives intertwine. It’s serious circle of life which lead to me wonder how there are any animals left in Africa—all they seem to do is eat one another.

Advances in camera technology allow Fothergill and Scholey to get intimate shots that likely weren’t possible years ago. The audience is treated to up-close-and-personal looks at the mother cheetah raising her newborns, a showdown between a fierce lion and a crocodile and incredible footage of life in the wild. The movie works best when it backs off and allows nature to take its course. Showing us how mama cheetah fends off a pride of lions who are looking at her cubs like they’re an amuse bouce is riveting stuff but occasionally the movie seems contrived. It’s a nature—but not completely natural—documentary.

Case in point. When an older lioness leaves her pride for the last time, meaningful looks are exchanged between the old lion and her former friends with the kind of dramatic editing that would make the producers of “The Hills” envious. On the African savannah life is interesting enough without having to cobble together shots for dramatic effect.

Most dramatic of all are the hunting scenes, although they are most definitely not for little Jimmy’s eyes. In one sequence Samuel L. Jackson purrs, “Success. Cheetah’s cubs will not go hungry tonight,” as the cat pulls apart a gazelle she has just hunted and killed. There are several circle of life scenes that will freak younger viewers out, so be warned.

“African Cats” has all the elements of a good story; there are heroes—like the mother cheetah—and villains—hyenas apparently, are no laughing matter; not even the animal huggers of PETA could love these nasty little buggers—and real life conflict. Too bad it occasionally feels manipulated.

RIO: 3 STARS

In “Rio” nerd actor du jour Jesse Eisenberg plays, what else, a nerdy birdy—a domesticated macaw—small-town Minnesota named Blu. He’s never learned to fly, but enjoys a happy and healthy life with his owner and BFF Linda (Leslie Mann). When they discover the last remaining ladybird blue macaw (voice of Anne Hathaway) in the world lives in Rio de Janeiro they make the journey to find her, but their plan lays an egg. Instead they encounter kidnappers and an evil cockatoo named Nigel (Jemaine Clement). On the upside perhaps Blu will finally learn to fly.

Let’s get the 800 pound elephant—or in this case, the big blue bird—out of the way right away. Let me say that “Rio” has an OK story and sparkling animation but it really lacks the depth of a Pixar film. Maybe I’m spoiled, but when I watch animated movies, whether they are Dreamworks, or, like this one, from Fox, I can’t help but think, “What would the wizards at Pixar have done with this story?”     

Don’t get me wrong, “Rio” is perfectly serviceable. It’s colorful and filled with nice little touches like a little bird who warms himself against a traffic light, flitting back-and-forth between the red and green lights,  in snowy Minnesota, but for all the nice little touches and exciting flying scenes the movie isn’t particularly memorable. It’ll keep the little ones occupied in the theatre—although very little kids may find some of the action a bit too intense—and has a good enviro message about wild animals and their treatment, but there’s no real sticky content here.

The lead voice work is adequate, nothing special from the above the title stars, but will.i.am, Jamie Foxx, Tracy Morgan—as a drooling bulldog in a Carmen Miranda fruit salad hat—and particularly Jemaine Clement—who has a show stopping song—help the movie take flight  with fun supporting vocal work.

“Rio” is a good enough Saturday afternoon matinee with the kids, unfortunately for me it lacks the zip I have come to expect from animated entertainment. Sorry “Rio” but I can only imagine Pixar could come up with a more imaginative name for a blue macaw than Blu.  

DAYDREAM NATION: 3 ½ STARS

Daydream Nation chronicles the year in Carolyn Wexler’s (Kat Dennings) life in which “everything happened.” A precocious teen she seduces her handsome English teacher (Josh Lucas) by writing an essay about her favorite historical figure—Monika Lewinsky. She’s a savvy big city girl, but hasn‘t quite figured out life or love in her new town. Complicating matters is an amorous gym teacher, a serial killer and a sweet but troubled boy named Thurston (Reese Thompson). Textured with equal parts humor and drama this smart school story cleverly details the complicated, confusing aspects of teen life in a fresh, interesting way.

SCREAM 4: 3 ½ STARS

The “Scream” movies, which follow professional survivor Sidney Prescott (Neve Campbell) as she outwits and outlasts a series of masked “Ghostface” killers, have fared better than most other contemporary horror franchises. Probably because the idea of combining a traditional slasher film with self-aware humor and horror film clichés was ahead of its time when Kevin Williamson and Wes Craven took a stab at creating the horror hybrid in 1996.

Just as the “Saw” films have become as appealing as a power tool to the back of the head and the “Final Destination” movies feel like they actually met their final destination two or three films ago, “Scream’s” winning formula hasn’t outlived it’s welcome.   

In the shreakquel Campbell returns as Prescott, now a successful author who has returned to Woodsboro, the scene of the Ghostface killer crimes that made her a nationally famous survivor. Her book signing at a local store is, of course, scheduled on the anniversary of the original killings. Soon things get stabby and, as the bodies start to pile up Sheriff Dewey (David Arquette) and his investigative reporter wife Gale Weathers (Courteney Cox) try to discover who is behind the Ghostface mask.

Like the other movies in the series “Scream 4” is a Meta-thriller that pays tribute to and takes the Mickey out of the horror genre. It uses the conventions of other fright films to cue the action, before twisting familiar clichés to form something new. Of course the idea of referencing other movies isn’t as fresh as it was in the original, but screenwriter Williamson has updated the idea, suggesting that the rules from the first few “Screams” don’t apply because horror movies have changed in the age of social media.

Not to worry though, the basic “Scream” formula is in place. This movie, like the others, still opens with a funny, bloody scene or two, spoofing horror movies. They are giddy good fun and set the tone of the movie—gory and giggly.

At the heart of it all is Campbell, “Scream’s” only truly indispensible character. She grounds the whole story, bringing a real presence to an unreal situation. She isn’t the funny girl, or the self aware, sarcastic showy character, instead she’s the one the audience cares about. Most importantly she never plays the victim no matter how many times Ghostface tries to cut her in two.
 
“Scream 4” is the best in the series since the original. Director Wes Craven brings the suspense, writer Williamson supplies the clever and Campbell supplies the heart.

ARTHUR: 3 STARS

Your enjoyment of “Arthur,” the remake of the 30 year old Dudley Moore comedy, is in direct ratio to your enjoyment of Russell Brand. His brand of Brit-speak verbal diarrhea works in small doses, the trick here is to see whether audiences will sit through two hours of word-play rivaled only by Charlie Sheen on a crack fuelled internet rant. Brand is Arthur Bach the ne're-do-well heir to an enormous fortune. He’s a womanizing playboy, a drunk man-child whose nanny (Helen Mirren) describes as “merely shaped like an adult.” When his “savant-ish gift for defying death with fun” embarrasses his mother she brings down the hammer. Either he straightens up and marries the beautiful but all-business Susan or be disinherited. Trouble is, he`s in love with Naomi (Greta Gerwig) a charismatic Grand Central Station tour guide.

“Arthur Redux” isn’t an improvement on the original, but it isn’t a waste of time either. Brand is front and center here, chewing the scenery as though he hasn’t eaten in years. For the first hour he delivers every line as if it was a punch line, which would be OK if they were all actually punch lines, but they’re not. Brand, like the character he’s playing here, isn’t nearly as charming as he thinks he is and even though he hits the mark 40% of the time, the delivery gets tired. Luckily the movie improves when it takes a turn for the touching. The Naomi love story works because of Greta Gerwig’s natural charisma and once Mirren’s character actually becomes a character and less a sounding board for Brand’s antics, she adds some depth to the story.

“Arthur” isn’t going to erase the original from people’s minds—it’s a tad too long and a titch too predictable—but its mix of comedy and romance is almost as intoxicating as whatever Arthur swigs out of his ever-present flask. And it’s worth it to see Helen Mirren in a Darth Vader mask.            

HANNA: 4 STARS

Is Saoirse Ronan the new Meryl Streep? For years Streep was almost as well known for her facility with world accents as she was for her acting ability. Her aptitude for everything from Danish (“The Bridges of Madison County”) to Polish (“Sophie’s Choice”) to New Zealand (“A Cry in the Dark”) to Bronx (“Doubt”) to Midwestern (“A Prairie Home Companion”) dialects became such a topic of conversation that even her Wikipedia page has a section titled “Accents and dialects.”

Now, along comes Ronan, a prodigiously talented young actress, who speaks with an Irish brogue in real life, but uses a variety of inflections on-screen. Scottish (“Atonement”), American (“The Lovely Bones), Polish (“The Way Back”) and English (“Death Defying Acts”)—she can do it all.

In her new film, “Hanna” she aces a German accent putting her one step closer to Streep territory. She plays the title character, a blonde, blue-eyed killing machine, the right age to be a Hannah Montana fan, except she’s never heard music and has no idea who Miley Cyrus is. She was home-schooled with über tough love by her father and ex-CIA agent Eric (Eric Bana) in the remotest part of Finland. He trains her to survive, to adapt or die. When her boot camp is completed she activates an electronic signal and with the words, “Marissa Wiegler, come and get me,” begins a wild life-or-death chase through Morocco and Europe. CIA operative Wiegler (Cate Blanchett) is desperate to bring Hanna in before a secret about her past is revealed.

“Hannah” isn’t exactly an action movie, although there are a number of breathless fight scenes, it’s more of a coming-of-age story about a feral girl learning about the outside world. Director Joe Wright weaves the action sequences throughout, but never forgets to develop Hanna’s character. Ronan plays her almost like an alien or someone from another time. She’s unaccustomed to TV, electricity and the comforts of modern life and you can really see the learning curve on the actresses’ open face. It’s a remarkable performance aided by Wright’s sure handed direction. Set to an anxiety inducing soundtrack by The Chemical Brothers he frames every scene with its own personality. For instance, when Hanna is with an English family she adopts for a time, the pace is gentle, there’s music and the tone is poignant as she observes a real family for the first time in her life. When she’s on her own the settings are discordant and strange.

It’s engrossing filmmaking—check out Hanna’s introduction to the modern world in a hotel in Morocco—that wordlessly brings the viewer into Hanna’s world.

“Hanna” is as good a thriller as we’ve seen for a long time, but it’s about more than just the thrills. There’s genuine heart here and that’s what makes it great. That and the mini-Meryl acting skills of Saoirse Ronan.

BORN TO BE WILD 3D: 3 ½ STARS

Wildlife documentarian David Lickley has learned a thing or two in his decade of making movies like “Jane Goodall's Wild Chimpanzees.” He knows how to weave effective environmental stories into his films while letting the babies do all the work. That’s right, he knows that nobody can resist a baby anything, and uses that appeal to tell his stories of animal conservation and rehabilitation.

His new IMAX film “Born to be Wild 3D” is a forty minute look at two selfless scientists who've dedicated their lives to saving orphaned orangutans and elephants. Flip flopping between the Kenyan savannah and the rainforests of Borneo to tell the stories of elephant authority Dame Daphne Sheldrick and primatologist Dr. Biruté Galdikas, the film tells a mostly kid friendly story of how these women have dedicated their lives to rescuing these vulnerable animals. There are lessons to be learned, facts about how and why the animals became orphaned, but by-and-large Lickley lets the pictures do the talking, showing the baby orangutans and elephants as they are cared for and mature under the careful eyes of their adopted parents.

It’s educational but it’s the baby animals that will likely make the strongest impression. Beautifully and intimately photographed, words like adorable and delightful come to mind when searching for adjectives to describe the younguns’. There’s a reason why the most viewed YouTube videos feature small animals and “Born to be Wild 3D” takes advantage of that appeal to introduce the larger story of conservation. Let the babies do the work.    

“Born to be Wild 3D” is heart warming stuff geared for families topped off by the dulcet tones of Morgan Freeman as narrator. Very small children may find the animal’s back stories a bit upsetting but overall this should appeal to everyone in the house.

SOUL SURFER: 2 STARS

“Soul Surfer,” based on the inspirational life story of Bethany Hamilton, plays like an ad for the Hawaiian Tourist Bureau… right up to the point where young Bethany gets her arm chewed off by a rogue shark. But “Jaws,” this ain’t. “Soul Surfer” sees AnnaSophia “Charlie and the Chocolate Factory” Robb play Hamilton, an award winning surfer who survived a shark attack and went on to become the Venus de Milo of the surfing world, competing professionally and winning the Best Comeback Athlete ESPY Award.  

A well intentioned movie like this is hard to be cynical about but just because a movie is made with good intentions doesn’t mean it’s a good movie. Sure, it’s filled with strong messages about the importance of friends, family and faith but they are covered in a thick layer of treacle that would make even the producers of the overly-earnest “After School Specials” blush. Inspirational is one thing. Feel good is another. Then there’s “Soul Surfer,” set in a world where a shark attack is a teachable moment and it’s possible to have a poignant scene with a ukulele.

Hamilton’s story is inspirational and surely deserves a better movie than this. Perhaps a documentary would have spared us the trite dialogue, clichéd near-death sequence complete with bright white lights and stirring liturgical music and passé villain who we’re supposed to know is bad because she’s the only girl with dark hair in a sea of blondes. But that’s the kind of movie this is, literal to a fault.

RUBBER: 2 STARS

“Rubber” is an odd movie. It’s become fanboy-fashionable to rave about the story of a killer tire—yes, you read that right—with psychokinetic powers—think “Carrie” with treads—who terrorizes the American southwest and I’ll throw my hat in the ring, but only to a certain point. Writer/director Quentin Dupieux begins the film with an existential manifesto, an ode to the “no reason” element he says is crucial to the success of any movie.

"In the Steven Spielberg movie E.T, why is the alien brown? No reason,” says Lieutenant Chad (Stephen Spinella) in the film’s opening minutes. “I could go on for hours with more examples. The list is endless. You probably never gave it a thought... but all great films, without exception, contain an important element of no reason.”

The speech, while entertaining, is a dodge that allows the director to present all the story’s bizarre twists with a straight face but it is kind of disingenuous. Of course there is a reason why the tire comes to life and kills people. Just like there is a reason why there is a group of people in the desert watching the tire’s killing spree through binoculars as though they are watching a movie. I could go on for hours with more examples, to quote Lieutenant Chad, but you get the point.

It’s an absurdist tract on how and why we watch movies, what entertainment is and the movie business, among other things. But frankly, mostly it’s about a tire rolling around the desert and while there is something kind of hypnotic about watching the tire on its murderous journey—think “Natural Born Killer” but round and rubbery—that doesn’t mean “Rubber” is a good movie. For all its subtext, style and audacious storytelling it is still essentially a cool short film idea stretched beyond comfort to 82 minutes (with credits).

HOP: 1 STAR

“Hop,” a new Easter themed flick starring Russell Brand and James Marsden, is probably the only kid’s movie to feature a scene set at the Playboy Mansion. You see, it’s about a wayward rabbit named EB (voice of Russell Brand) searching for a place to live and since bunnies live at Hef’s place it seems like the perfect place for him to crash. Funny? Not really, but that’s what passes for jokes in the literal minded “Hop.”

The movie starts on Easter Island—there’s that literal thinking again—the home base of the Easter Bunny (voice of Hugh Laurie) and his son EB. On the other side of the planet Fred O’Hare (James Marsden) is an unemployed SoCal slacker house sitting for his sister’s wealthy boss. Both EB and Fred have one thing in common—daddy issues. EB wants to be a drummer but his father wants him to come into the family business and Fred’s dad wants him to get a job—any job. When EB and Fred hook up in Hollywood the pair might be able to help one another with their problems and in the process save Easter.

“Hop” feels more like an hour-and-a-half advertisement for plush stuffed bunnies than it does a movie. EB and his bunny and Easter chick friends are cute but clearly more time was spent on the marketing angle than the story.
It’s not that the story is bad really, it’s just average, like it was an afterthought. Movies for kids have taken strides forward in recent years but “Hop” feels like a jump backwards. Its humor and broad acting style is directed at little kids, yet the movie is rated PG, which means that parents can’t just send their kids solo. Grown-ups might get a chuckle out of EB’s jellybean gag—he poops jellybeans and says at one point, “I just jellybeaned all over your dreams”—but the odd cameo from David Hasselhoff—he’s going for the William Shatner self-aware shtick—is as  funny as you’d imagine a cameo from The Hoff to be. Trust me, there’s not much here for anyone over 4 years old. “Harvey” this ain’t.

There are many reasons to hate “Hop.” Some will find the secularization of Easter offensive; some will be annoyed by the obvious shilling for Easter Bunnies Are Us but the real reason to dislike the movie is that it a lame and lazy excuse for children’s entertainment. Kids get fed enough pabulum in their formative years, they don’t need it at the movies as well.

INSIDIOUS: 2 ½ STARS

The names James Wan and Leigh Whannell may not mean much to you… unless you’re a horror fan, in which case the pairing will send a chill down your spine. The director – writer team brought one of the most influential horror movies of the last decade to the screen—“Saw”—and are back together for “Insidious,” a new exercise in eeriness starring Patrick Wilson and Rose Byrne.

The “Insidious” trailer doesn’t give away much of the plot and neither will I. I can tell you that Wilson and Byrne play parents whose child slips into a deep trance-like state. He’s not in a coma, the doctors say, adding, “I’ve never seen anything like it.” Not exactly the words you want to hear from your GP. As the months pass strange things start happening in the house and when ghostly figures appear it becomes clear that something insidious is happening in the young couple’s home.

“Insidious” is one of those movies that requires a great deal of suspension of disbelief. For instance when Byrne’s character starts experiencing odd things—strange sounds, children appearing out of nowhere, faces in mirrors—they aren’t chalked up to the sounds of their new house settling or some kind of hallucination, nope, instead of looking for a worldly explanation this bunch’s first assumption is that something supernatural is happening. Luckily Wilson’s mother (Barbara Hershey) happens to have a psychic investigator on speed dial. Get past those leaps of faith and you’re left with a movie that is shrouded with loads of atmosphere but short on actual scares.

Eerie rather than scary, “Insidious” will play on your fears of displacement and feelings of helplessness, but the unless you find the idea of an otherworldly spirit listening to Tiny Tim’s “Tiptoe Through the Tulips” terrifying you won’t be crawling out of your skin. Wan puts away the torture porn of “Saw,” replacing it with lots of dry ice and creepy costumes but keeps the fear level on a par with that of walking through an amusement park’s haunted house.

SOURCE CODE: 3 STARS

“Source Code,” the second film from “Moon” director Duncan Jones, is a tough one to describe. Imagine “Groundhog Day” with a terrorist subplot, a romantic angle and an explosion every eight minutes or so and you start to get the idea.

Jake Gyllenhaal plays Captain Colter Stevens, a helicopter pilot, who wakes up on a Chicago commuter train in the body of a suburban high school teacher. Baffled he makes small talk with the stranger across from him until the train is blown to bits by a terrorist bomb. Turns out he’s part of a high level government project called Source Code that allows him to inhabit the last eight minutes of a person’s life. Posing as this teacher he has a finite amount of time to discover and dismantle the bomb and help avert a much larger subsequent attack. Heroics aside, Colter begins to wonder what would happen if he went back into the source code permanently.

“Source Code” is sci fi in the mode as “Inception” and “The Adjustment Bureau,” stories that have metaphysical premises but are firmly rooted in the physical. In each case a wild plot is brought back to earth by strong characters that put a human face on the script’s fanciful ideas.

“Source Code” is a moderately less successful than “Inception” and “The Adjustment Bureau,” mostly because it doesn’t have the mind boggling depth of the former or the human touch of the latter. It exists somewhere in between, but it gains points from me for not being based on a video game or comic book.

Jones skillfully takes a premise that could easily have become tired very quickly—the replay of the same eight minutes over and over again—and adds in enough variation, enough detail to keep the viewer on board as Colter revisits the scene of the crime and slowly pieces the terrorist plot together.

Less successful is the romance angle. It’s sweet and ends on a hopeful note but isn’t as compelling as the love story in “The Adjustment Bureau.”

Despite that “Source Code” remains an interesting and novel piece of sci fi. 

SUCKER PUNCH: 2 STARS

Director Zach Synder pitched “Sucker Punch” to the studio as “Alice in Wonderland with machine guns.” He might have added, “Or maybe the poor man’s “Inception” with less interesting characters.” Whatever the case, it is a visual assault that’ll make your eyeballs dance, but will likely leave the rest of your person wondering what all the fuss is about.

The premise sounds promising. Emily Browning plays Baby Doll, a twenty-year-old wrongfully imprisoned in a mental institution where a sadistic orderly, Blue Jones (Oscar Isaac), has her scheduled for a lobotomy. As it turns out this medical facility is also facilitating more than just its patients. Cue a fantasy sequence that recasts the hospital as a nightclub, where the inmates are forced to perform and sell their bodies. To cope, Baby Doll creates a violent world of imagination—a fantasy within a fantasy—where she and her fellow inmates / burlesque dancers (Abbie Cornish, Jena Malone, Vanessa Hudgens and Jamie Chung) are highly skilled warriors on a quest to find five items that will help them secure their escape from the institution / brothel. After battling steampunk soldiers that pop like balloons when they are shot, dragons and massive samurai soldiers the movie (SPOILER) limps along to a “Shutter Island-esque” finale.  

Stuck somewhere in the twilight zone between a videogame and a feature film “Sucker Punch” isn’t so much a movie as it is a “technoir” spectacle. Every inch of the screen is designed and art directed from the architectural wonder of Carla Guggino’s hairdo to the wild fantasy sequences. It all looks great, no question and the ain’t-it-cool factor is very high but there’s no heart here. The characters, despite their sad faces and traumatic lives, are more like scantily clad samurai Barbie dolls than living, breathing characters. As a result we don’t care what happens to them.

Visual sensualist Synder tried to make a movie with a deeper meaning—a videogame level sentiment about taking responsibility and knowing when the story is about you and when it isn’t—but the story’s philosophical angle is blunted by his interest in style over substance.

It is essentially a series of extended action sequences held together by some exposition and Browning’s pout but having said that, I expected more from the action scenes. Unlike “Kill Bill,” another grrrl power movie with samurai swords, the action scenes here are all basically the same. Tarantino understood the value of the violence and changed it up. Synder doesn`t.

Also, Jon Hamm fans take note! I cannot imagine why Jon Hamm would take this role. It`s one of those parts that the other characters talk about a great deal but when he finally show up on screen he only has three or four lines. He could have shot this on his lunch break from “Mad Men.”

“Sucker Punch” is the work of a visual storyteller. Now if we could only get Synder to pay as much attention to the plot we wouldn’t feel sucker punched as the end credits roll.  

HOBO WITH A SHOTGUN: 3 STARS

The world can be divided into two groups. People who would go see a movie titled “Hobo with a Shotgun” and people who wouldn’t. If you are in the former group you’ll likely love the movie. If not, well, perhaps go see “Jane Eyre” instead.

Shot in Halifax by first time feature director Jason Eisener, the movie is the model for truth in advertising. There is a hobo (Rutger Hauer) and a shotgun. It’s what he does with the shotgun that, depending on your point of view, makes the movie either a grindhouse treasure or a gratuitous blood fest with no redeeming value. You see the hobo has just ridden the rails into Scumtown, the most corrupt Canadian city in the east. Ruled by crime kingpin The Drake (Brian Downey) and his sadistic sons (Gregory Smith and Nick Bateman) it is a cesspool of sleaze where the streets run red with Technicolor blood. The level of carnage brings out the hobo’s inner Charles Bronson as he brings some 20-gauge vigilante justice to the town.

"Hobo with a Shotgun" is like what would have happened if Roger Corman made "Death Wish" with a fake blood budget the size of a James Cameron movie. It's an unapologetic revenge movie that makes movies like “The Toxic Avenger” seem restrained. Any movie with kitschy lines like “I'm gonna sleep in your bloody carcass tonight” is OK by me as long as it delivers in other ways, and "Hobo with a Shotgun" does. Of course, it is first and foremost a squishy ode to the movies that filled drive-ins and grindhouses during the Nixon years but it also has a deliberate sense of humor about itself—a headline describing the Hobo's rampage reads, “Hobo Stops Begging— Demands Change”—and seems genuinely affectionate about the movies it is paying tribute to.

"Hobo" even has the same kind of pseudo social commentary that Roger Corman used to try and shoehorn into his exploitation movies. For instance, according to Corman "The Big Birdcage" wasn't just a babes, bars and bondage women-in-prison picture but a highly nuanced ode to women's lib. I think Eisener probably has his tongue in cheek when his characters take a stance on the issue of homelessness, but nonetheless the addition of some strange social commentary perfectly fits the tone of the genre he's trying to emulate.  

Director Eisener's highly developed visual style and sense of the absurd fuels the entire movie. It's clear that most of the budget probably went to Hauer's salary and the blood supply, but Eisener makes the most of every scene using inventive camera angles and tinting the action with lurid cartoon colors. Blood has never looked this red and b-movies have rarely looked this cool.

JANE EYRE: 4 STARS

You could be forgiven if you have a feeling of déjà vu at the movies this weekend. According to IMDB there are at least 22 versions of the Charlotte Brontë novel “Jane Eyre,” the first dating back to 1910, the most recent opening this today.

“Alice in Wonderland’s” Mia Wasikowska makes the title role her own in director Cary Fukunaga’s elegant retelling of Jane Eyre’s search for happiness and love. After a bleak, loveless childhood Eyre finds employment as a governess at Thornfield Hall, working for the brooding Mr. Rochester (Michael Fassbender). The pair forms a romantic bond but this is a gothic story, so of course Jane’s happiness is waylaid by her fiancée’s terrible secret.   

Fukunaga, whose last film was the violent Spanish language “Sin Nombre,” has created the most gothic version of “Jane Eyre” to date. Things go bump in the night, mysterious shadows lurk in flickering candle light and mortal danger seems constantly close at hand. It’s a gorgeous vision, ripe with the repression and melancholy so crucial to the story. It is spare in a way that Victorian period pieces rarely are, yet sumptuous with atmosphere to burn.

The movie looks fantastic but that wouldn’t mean much if the characters weren’t as well defined as they are in the hands of Wasikowska and Fassbender. As plain Jane Wasikowska brings a quiet intensity and resolve to the role while Fassbender gives Rochester a brooding bravado which belies his troubled mind. Together, sparks fly and the passion of the story bubbles to the surface despite the reserved nature of the storytelling.  

Add to that terrific supporting work from Judi Dench as the devoted housekeeper Mrs. Fairfax and a nice turn by Amelia Clarkson as young Jane and you have a worthy addition to the “Jane Eyre” canon.

WIN WIN: 4 STARS
 
The opening shot of “Win Win,” a new dramedy from “The Station Agent” director Tom McCarthy, tells you almost everything you need to know about the main character, played by Paul Giamatti. Dressed in a tacky bright yellow New Providence Pioneers sweatshirt he’s jogging down a country road. The camera stays with him for a moment until two other, better-dressed older men pass him, running at a loping gait. Breathing heavy, he stops and watches the pair fade into the distance.
 
The scene tells us, wordlessly and elegantly, that he, no matter how hard he tries, is always getting passed by in life. It’s a quick scene, but what would have been a throwaway in most movies becomes a poignant opening to one of the most enjoyable movies of the year so far.
 
Giamatti is small-town lawyer and wrestling coach Mike Flaherty. With his practice on the ropes he make a dubious decision to become the legal guardian to client Leo Poplar (Burt Young), a wealthy man suffering from dementia. He desperately needs the $1500 a month pay cheque that comes along with the guardianship, but when Leo’s grandson Kyle (Alex Shaffer) shows up the arrangement becomes complicated.
 
While there is much to admire in “Win Win,” like the great performances from old pros Giamatti or Amy Ryan, or the stirring work from newcomer Alex Shaffer or even how funny it is, the thing that really stands out about “Win Win” is its heart. McCarthy understands family and friend relationships and it shows in every frame of this film.
 
These are complicated characters with back stories and shortcomings galore, but McCarthy deftly shows us their relationships, exposing why they behave the way they do, why they like one another, and ultimately why we should care about them.
 
Part of it is casting—Giamatti is never bad and Shaffer is a thoroughly believable teen—but McCarthy, as writer and director, has to take the credit. It’s a tricky dance to introduce so many story threads—there’s a wrestling subplot, the story of Leo’s living arrangements, the drug addict mother’s relationship with Kyle and more—but McCarthy keep the film on track, keeping the focus where it belongs, on the characters.

LIMITLESS: 3 ½ STARS

“Limitless” is a drug movie with Bradley Cooper as a chemically enhanced knowledge junkie. Imagine Keith Richards with a four digit IQ and you get the idea.

Cooper plays a slacker writer with a crappy apartment, an ex-wife and soon-to-be ex-girlfriend. Like the rest of us he’s only using 20% of his brain, and often, not even that. His life changes when he begins taking a drug that allows him to access the other 80%. Suddenly he can learn languages in hours and can retrieve everything he has ever read, seen or thought about. His intellectual ability is, as the title says, limitless. Also limitless are the people who will do almost anything to lay their hands on the drug.

“Limitless” begins with a premise that would make Timothy Leary proud—drugs open up the mind, man—then becomes a Nancy Reagan “Just Say No” drama before winding down to an ambiguous ending. I wasn’t exactly expecting “Reefer Madness,” but I would have liked a clearer point of view.

This is, after all a drug movie. It’s a drug movie with a twist mind you, but at its heart it’s a movie about addiction and the effects of drug use. In this Charlie Sheen world there’s enough images of drug abuse out there for this one to be so noncommittal.

But that’s a quibble when the movie is as entertaining as “Limitless.” Despite the limits of the story it’s a whole lot of fun. The drug haze scenes are effective and the 18 hour blackout sequence is a tour de force, complete with Bruce Lee flashbacks. Neil Burger only oversteps when he tries to illustrate Cooper’s newfound intelligence. Letters falling from the ceiling while he is furiously writing. Really?   

No matter, the movie is so adrenaline paced, the gimmicky scenes are over before they have much a chance to register. The movie is as jittery as the drug addicted lead character.  

Cooper is in virtually every scene here and proves that he’s leading man enough to carry a movie, charming enough to keep us interested and has the chops to pull off the drama. I’m not sure I could have accepted him in a gritty drug movie like “Last Train to Brooklyn,” but as the upwardly mobile brainiac with an edge he’s perfectly cast.

“Limitless” will be a good gap filler for Cooper fans who are anxiously awaiting the release of “The Hangover 2” scheduled for this May.

PAUL: 3 STARS

“Paul,” the new comedy from “Sean of the Dead” duo Simon Pegg and Nick Frost, is a something-for-everyone movie. Sci fi, check. Buddy comedy, chase scenes, fish-out-of-water and romance? Check, check, check and check.

Pegg and Frost play British sci fi nerds exploring “the less touristy side of the American Midwest.” Starting at nerd central, Comic Coin, they plan to RV it to every UFO landing site they can find—the Black Mailbox, Area 51—but their trip is sidelined when they come across an actual alien, Paul (voice of Seth Rogen), a foulmouthed ET on the lam. For sixty years after crash landing on earth he lived at an army base thinking he was a guest. When he realized he was a prisoner, he says, he made a run for it. Pursued by federal agents (Jason Bateman, Bill Hader and Joe Lo Truglio) and the angry father of a girl they accidentally kidnap (Kristen Wiig) they try and make it back to Paul’s mothership and his ride back to the safety of his own planet.

“Paul,” which was written by Pegg and Frost, lacks the laugh-out-loud-every-two-minute rhythm of their previous movies, “Sean of the Dead” and “Hot Fuzz,” but it has a lot of heart. Pegg and Frost have great chemistry—they’re kind of the Laurel and Hardy of geek culture—and are absolutely likeable in the leads. They are responsible for 90% of what makes “Paul” so agreeable.

The alien is amusing and way less of a frat boy character than the trailer would have you believe. They’ve also given him a cool backstory—he was the model for all big eyed pop culture extraterrestrials and consulted with Spielberg on the making of ET—and while Rogen’s voice work is OK and the computer face rather expressive, he’s not as much fun as Pegg and Frost. Ditto Wiig who is stuck with running gags involving Charles Darwin—born again Christians beware! You will not be pleased—and loads of creative swearing that never tickles the funny bone.

Despite its downsides—some misfired gags and a conventional story structure—“Paul” is satisfying not because of its homage to “Close Encounters of the Third Kind” or the excellent call-back to “Aliens” but because of the relationships and the bonds that form between the characters. I can’t help but think that “Paul” might have had more of a funny edge had “Sean of the Dead” and “Hot Fuzz” director Edgar Wright had been at the helm, but as it stands “Paul” is an enjoyable diversion.    

THE LINCOLN LAWYER: 3 STARS

“The Lincoln Lawyer” feels like a throwback. It echoes an era when courtroom procedurals featured anti-heroes and more turns than a twisted mountain road and to a time when its star Matthew McConaughey made good movies.

Based on a novel by American crime writer Michael Connelly, “The Lincoln Lawyer” is the story of Mickey Haller (McConaughey), a wheeling dealing L.A. criminal defense attorney who works out of the back of a Lincoln sedan with the vanity plate NTGUILTY. He’s a bottom-feeder who values money more than ethics until he takes a case involving a dead prostitute, a head strong client, a legal conundrum and his very survival—both personally and professionally.

The first fifteen minutes of “The Lincoln Lawyer” aren’t all that promising. McConaughey appears to be less a character than a collection of charming tics; the kind of work he’s spent the last few years doing in forgettable films like “The Ghosts of Girlfriends Past” and “Fools Gold.” At least he doesn’t resort to taking his shirt off, which, while pleasing to some, is the cheapest way for him to fill the screen.

The winning smile and movie star charm, however, begin to fade as McConaughey drops the smarm and actually begins to explore the character and the story’s twists and turns. The deeper we get into the story the more entertaining and edge of your seat it becomes leading up to a surprising ending.

“The Lincoln Lawyer” will remind you of “Primal Fear” and feels like something that might be more at home on cable TV than on the big screen, but it is a well written, edgy drama with good performances and a welcome return to form from McConaughey.

RED RIDING HOOD: 2 ½ STARS

The familiar lines, “I’ll huff and I’ll puff…” and “Grandma, what great big eyes you have…” both appear in “Red Riding Hood,” the new Amanda Seyfried supernatural romance, and our heroine does wear a bright red cloak, but any resemblance to the source material ends there.

Set in a medieval village, Seyfried plays the anachronistically named Valerie, a pretty young woman in love with one boy but engaged to another, richer man. That’s not the worst of her problems, however. A big bad werewolf has been reigning chaos on her village for generations, and now, with a blood moon rising and silver-finger tipped werewolf hunter coming to town it looks like her story might take a grim—but not necessarily Grimm—turn.

Following in the footsteps of so many of today’s angsty supernatural romances for teens, “Red Riding Hood” (which was directed by “Twilight, Mach One” director Catherine Hardwicke) plays like an odd but imaginative hybrid of “The Crucible” and “Twilight.”    

Filled with dramatic moments that aren’t really as dramatic as I imagine Hardwicke would hope and a mystery filled with red herrings and heaving bosoms “Red Riding Hood” has a weird rhythm to it.

Hardwicke, a former production designer has made a terrific looking movie—in wide shots the village looks like an illustration from a high end kid’s book of fairy tales—and Seyfried’s movie star face, with it’s beautifully exaggerated features—bee stung lips and Bette Davis eyes—holds the screen, but Hardwicke never met a steady cam shot she didn’t love and her restless shooting style seems to have influenced the story as well. The narrative is a bit all over the place as though it is trying too hard to hit all the points that make up teen entertainment in 2011. A bit of script streamlining would have helped the big bad wolf from blowing this house of cards down.

And while I’m at it, can we discuss Gary Oldman for a moment? He’s probably having more fun and making more money now with films like “Kung Fu Panda 2” and playing Sirius Black in the “Harry Potter” films than he did when he essaying Joe Orton in “Prick Up Your Ears” but I miss watching the volatile and versatile actor who disappeared into roles like Sid Vicious and Albert Milo.

Despite its title “Red Riding Hood” isn’t kid’s stuff, but it also isn’t quite well developed enough to be adult fare either.

BATTLE: LOS ANGELES: 2 STARS

Given the content of the film “Battle: Los Angeles,” the new alien invader movie starring Aaron Eckhart, it’s surprising it isn’t subtitled “Marine Recruitment Movie.”

The movie begins with the hoariest of clichés, the battle weary Marine, Michael Nantz (Eckhart), thrown into the biggest fight of his life just hours after he has announced his retirement. His mission is to lead a group of soldiers against some well-armed ETs who have captured every major port city in the world. As the title suggests, his job is to save Los Angeles.

The first twenty-five minutes or so of the film is spent with the Marine characters; getting to know the folks we’re going to be spending the next two hours with. But instead of meeting believable people we are handed a roll call direct form Central Casting with dialogue that sounds like it was written by an actual G.I. Joe doll. Director Jonathan Liebesman’s relentless shakey-cam tries to distract the eye from the total lack of anything interesting going on with the characters but simply clutters the screen with jittery images.

Then things start to blow up and for the next hour-and-a-half there is a fairly constant video game barrage of bullets and bombs and dialogue like, “You kill anything that is not human!”

The movie’s pace certainly picks up from here, but the story doesn’t get much more interesting. Liebesman breaks a few of the rules regarding alien action movies. Firstly: He shows too many humans, not enough aliens. We can see humans anywhere—look out a window! Turn on the TV! Aliens, not so much. Too often in “Battle: Los Angeles” the extraterrestrials are obscured by smoke or so far in the distance it’s hard to get a good look at them.

Secondly, and this doesn’t just apply to alien invasion flicks but to all action movies, show us the action. Sure there is lots of action on screen and the soundtrack is filled with kabooms and pows, but the images are so frenetic it’s often hard to tell who is shooting who.

Lastly, all the great alien invasion movies are actually about something other than aliens. Recently, for instance, “District 9” was a potent mix of space invaders and apartheid. Any search for subtext here, however, will be met with disappointment, as “Battle: Los Angeles” simply plays like an only sporadically entertaining Marines propaganda film.      

MARS NEEDS MOMS: 3 STARS

I think “WALL-E” is the pinnacle of science fiction for kids but after seeing “Mars Needs Moms”... I still feel that way. It’s not really sci fi anyway; it’s more action-adventure in zero gravity, with voice work by “Robot Chicken” guys Seth Green and Dan Fogler.

The earthbound portion of the story is set in Anywhere, USA. Little Milo (voice of Seth Green) doesn’t like taking out the garbage. When his mom (Joan Cusack) gives him a firm, but effective talking to, she unwittingly becomes a Martian overlord’s first choice as the model mom for the nanny bots that raise that planet’s young’uns. When she is abducted Milo hitches a ride, determined to rescue his mom from the alien invaders.

The suburban section of “Mars Needs Moms” bored me silly but once the movie hits Mars it perks up. Milo stops being a whiny kid, the action kicks in, the female Martians look like ET’s younger sisters and the Mars background animation is spectacular, kind of “2001” by way of “Triumph of the Will” and “Brazil.” Too bad the character animation isn’t as consistent. Milo’s mom has a-not-quite-human feel about her, and there’s some fluxuation in Milo and his friend Gribble but for the most part look amazing.

“Mars Needs Moms” is standard Disney. It’s a well made piece of family entertainment—it should appeal to eight and nine year olds, but anyone younger than that might find it a bit intense—with some action and good messages for kids about family and friendship. And even though it’s probably the first Disney movie to feature a purple nurple, it doesn’t strive to be anything more or less than standard.

THE ADJUSTMENT BUREAU: 3 ½ STARS

“The Adjustment Bureau,” a new film starring Matt Damon and Emily Blunt as star crossed lovers, is a hard film to categorize.  It’s a sci fi movie, with some action, romance and even a bit of metaphysical drama about two people who run afoul of The Adjustment Bureau, a shadowy group of men whose job it is to tweak or adjust people’s lives to make sure the overall plan for their life stays on track.

 “The Adjustment Bureau’s” story exists at the intersection of chance and fate, exploring the nature of destiny and the role that free will plays in people’s lives. Key concepts imported the from Phillip K. Dick short story that forms the backbone of the movie include questions about humanity’s ability to truly do the right thing for themselves and the planet and whether or not we have free will or simply the appearance of free will.

Heady stuff. But like the best sci fi it’s not simply about the ideas, it puts a human face on its theories. Matt Damon and Emily Blunt are David and Elsie. He’s a charismatic but impulsive politician whose frat boy behaviour just cost him an election. She’s an up-and-coming ballerina with a wild side. It’s love at first sight for both of them, but somehow, for years, they are kept apart. When they have a second chance meeting David is determined not to let her go, but the mysterious men from the Adjustment Bureau are just as determined to keep them apart. Will David be able to accept his predestined path and let her go, or will he try and create his own free will?

Much of the success of “The Adjustment Bureau” is due to its cast. Damon and Blunt have great chemistry and are completely believable as a couple. The sparks that fly off the pair as they meet for the second time on a New York City bus light up the screen and provide a very human edge to a weird but quite wonderful story. Without that the idea of a group of fedora-wearing men who control every aspect of humanity’s interactions would feel overreaching, but put a human face—well, two faces as appealing as Damon and Blunt’s—on it and you get a story that transcends genre.

Add to that some situational humor, some interesting supporting actors like John “Mad Men” Slattery, Anthony Mackie and Zod... er, I mean Terence Stamp in full-on metaphysical mode and you have a strange, but strangely appealing look at humanity.  

RANGO: 3 ½ STARS

If Michelangelo Antonioni and Sergio Leone had a love child and that love child directed a movie the result might be something like “Rango,” the new animated not-only-for-kids movie starring the voice of Johnny Depp.

Depp plays a theatrical chameleon with a big imagination and a host of imaginary friends who finds himself stranded in the desert. Following his shadow he lands in the town of Dirt, a miniature town inhabited by small creatures that look like they just crawled out of a John Ford movie. The town is short of water, in fact, it’s so dry cactus die of thirst. Creating the persona of Rango, a Wild West gunslinger, the lizard hero becomes sheriff and tries to get to the bottom of the water problem.

It’s possible that “Rango” is a movie that only the money-making team of Depp and “Pirates of the Caribbean” director Gore Verbinski could get made. It’s a big budget animated film that must have cost a fortune, but instead of playing it safe they have turned in a surreal family film complete with a cameo from gonzo journalist (and Depp mentor) Hunter S. Thompson. It may be a new kind of kid’s flick—existential comedy for kids.

Like many heroes before him Rango grapples with the big questions—Who am I? What is my destiny?—as he convinces the townsfolk to put their trust in him and “tango with the Rango.” Not sure if the young ones will get it, or if they’ll care about the story, which has more than a whiff of “Chinatown” about it but the animation by George Lucas’s Industrial Light and Magic—it’s their first fully animated movie in 35 years—will definitely capture their eye.

The movie truly looks fantastic—who knew lizards could have such expressive eyes—but takes a little too long to get to the good stuff. A self indulgent—and bizarre—intro gets things off to a slow start but soon the film finds its own unique rhythm, revealing its own bizarre charms.

BEASTLY: 2 STARS

“Beauty and the Beast” has been adapted many times. There‘s the famous Disney animated account, a Viking version and even a werewolf retelling but the new Vanessa Hudgens film, “Beastly,” places the story of not judging a book by its cover where it belongs, in the most judgmental place on earth—high school.  

Based on Alex Flinn's 2007 teen romance novel of the same name, “Beastly” stars Brit heartthrob Alex Pettyfer as Kyle Kingson, a wealthy high school senior with a nasty streak. When he disses a teen witch (billionaire fashionista Mary Kate Olsen) at a school function she casts a spell on him that makes him “as aggressively unattractive on the outside as he is on the inside.” Transformed into a half-human, half-“Enemy Mine” looking creature with Mike Tyson-esque facial tattoos, beastly Kyle is given one year to find his beauty, a true love, or he will look that way forever. Enter Lindy (Vanessa Hudgens), a girl from the wrong side of the tracks who might be able to help him break the spell.

The early 2000s may go down as the heyday of the human – supernatural teen romance movie. Vampires, werewolves, aliens and, well, whatever Kyle is, as the otherworldly Casanovas in movies like “Twilight,” “I Am Number Four,” and now “Beastly,” are perfect analogies for the way that many disaffected teens feel in high school, but honestly, what happened to girls who fell for the school’s quarterback? Catching a ball isn’t angsty enough anymore I guess.

 “Beastly,” however, has a corner on the teen angst that makes up much of young adult entertainment these days. In one scene Kyle deactivates a social networking site with the words, “I am no more.”  It isn’t until he takes guidance from a flamboyant tutor (Neil Patrick Harris) who leaves the readin’, writin’ and ‘rithmatic to the eggheads and focuses on teaching his student about being a decent human being that Kyle begins to understand that life “isn’t about how others see you, it’s about how you see yourself.”

Good messages in an uneven movie that has some very effective moments early on but gets more ridiculous as the credits approach.

Hudgens is a likeable leading lady and Neil Patrick Harris tries to insert some spark into the proceedings, but the Beast’s new tribal make-up is rather silly and his transformation from Alex Pettyfer to Alex Prettyfer isn’t a big enough payoff to have any real emotional impact.

DRIVE ANGRY 3D: 4 STARS

“Drive Angry?” More like “Drive Crazy.” The new Nicolas Cage movie is so over-the-top, so gratuitous, so in-your-face it feels like it sprung from the Roger Corman School of Fine Arts, class of 2011.

Cage plays John Milton, a man who would literally go to hell and back to get revenge on the men who killed his daughter and kidnapped his granddaughter. He’s a dead man who escaped the clutches of Satan to come to earth to even the score. Trouble is, the Devil wants him back.   

“Drive Angry 3D” has all the trappings of a b-drive-in-movie—muscle cars, too short shorts on the girls, gratuitously bad language and nudity, a vengeful Southern cult leader and the single wildest sex scene / gunfight ever captured on film. Still not convinced it belongs in the Russ Meyer Hall of Fame? Maybe Cage’s cheesy-cool line “I never disrobe before a gunfight” will convince you.

Even the old-school in-your-face 3D seems like a throwback to the days of the drive-in. There are no elegant stereoscopic “Avatar”-style visuals here; bullets, flames and body parts fly off the screen in an exaggerated way that suits the tone of the movie.

Director Patrick “My Bloody Valentine 3D” Lussier never met a breast he didn’t want to feature in a close-up or an explosion that he couldn’t make bigger and louder, but he does so with a gusto that would make Ray Dennis Steckler (look him up!) proud. And he earns extra points for using Can Con classics like Trooper’s “Raise a Little Hell” and “I Like to Rock” by April Wine on the soundtrack.  

Is this for everyone? Hell no. But if movies by Roger Corman, Russ Meyer or Ray Dennis Steckler sit on your shelf next to the Quentin Tarantino DVDs you’ll likely have a helluva time at “Drive Angry 3D.” 

HALL PASS: 3 STARS

“Hall Pass” can’t rightly be called a romantic comedy because there is very little actual romance contained in its story of two couples who are experiencing the martial blahs. Instead let’s call it a mid life comedy.

In this Farrelly Brothers film Owen Wilson, Jenna Fischer, Jason Sudeikis and Christina Applegate are Rick, Maggie, Fred and Grace, two long time couples in stale, sexless marriages. After an embarrassing incident at a friend’s home the fed up wives decide to give their husbands a “hall pass”—a week long holiday from marriage in an effort to prove to them that the grass is not greener on the other side of the nuptial fence.  

The kind of gross out humor you would expect from the purveyors of films like “There’s Something about Mary” and “Dumb and Dumber” is firmly in place here. Unfortunately “Hall Pass” isn’t anywhere near as funny as either “Mary” or “Dumber”—even though the Farrely’s obsession with overly tanned people is firmly in place—but as puerile as it may be the charming cast wrings whatever humor there is to be found out of the script. Because of them the movie has a fairly constant ripple of giggles punctuated occasionally by big laughs.  

It’s a thin premise, stretched almost to breaking, with a moral—surprise, surprise, single life isn’t all it’s cracked up to be—that seems very predictable, especially coming from the Farrelys. Luckily good casting and the odd well timed joke elevates “Hall Pass” from the level of a Katherine Heigl couples comedy, but just barely.

I AM NUMBER FOUR: 3 STARS

Based on a teen novel written by Jobie Hughes and Oprah's least favourite writer James Frey, "I Am Number Four" is a stealthy mix of "Superman" and "Twilight" with a hint of "X-Files."

Brit-it-boy Alex Pettyfer is Number Four, an Earth-bound alien who fled his home planet of Lorien along with nine other ET children. They are the last of their kind, but are hunted by the Mogadorians, a gang of marauding aliens who, after destroying Lorien, now have their sights set on Earth. Just as Four begins to develop his powers—think Superman—he falls for a human girl, Sarah Hart ("Glee's" Dianna Agron), and finds himself battling the Mogadorians not only for the survival of his kind but the human race as well.

"I Am Number Four" is a fresh story that feels like an echo of other teen stories. From "Superman" it takes the idea of an exile from a dying planet sent to Earth to live in disguise among humans. Where Clark Kent could leap over buildings with a single bound and see through walls, Four has a kind of fluorescent stigmata, powerful beams of light that shoot from his palms.

From "Twilight" it borrows the high school romance angle, complete with rivalries, but this time it's a girl with a Scar Jo vibe and a bullying quarterback instead of an angst ridden brunette and a lovelorn werewolf.

From the "X-Files" it takes the murky atmosphere and a couple of conspiracy nuts.

The only thing missing is a lightning bolt shaped scar on Four's forehead to make the teen homage complete.

Having said all that, despite feeling like a pastiche, "I Am Number Four" is rather enjoyable.

Director DJ Caruso gives the story and characters time to grow and develop their prerequisite outsider credibility—a crucial element in teen entertainment these days—and blends in more wild action than, say, "Twilight."

It still feels calculated but by the time we get to the chaotic conclusion—complete with flying fanged creatures that look like the offspring of Godzilla and Mothra—and the inevitable sequel set-up, "I Am Number Four" has established itself up as something, if not completely original, at least entertaining.

UNKNOWN: 1 STAR

There is one sure fire way to know that "Unknown" is an action film and not some sly spy documentary starring a man who looks a lot like Liam Neeson. It comes late in the movie and it's a blink-or-you'll-miss-it moment when Neeson, playing Dr. Martin Harris, studies his passport. His date of birth is listed as 1964. Fiction. Pure fiction and off by about twelve years. Unfortunately that's not the only thing off about this dull excuse for a psychological drama.

The fifty-nine-year-old actor plays Dr. Harris, a biochemist who travels to Berlin with his wife Liz (the thirty-two-year-old January Jones) to attend a convention. Everything changes following a car accident. When he wakes up from a four day coma his identification and identity is gone. His wife doesn't recognize him and worse, she's with another man who claims to be Dr. Martin Harris. Alone in Germany he recruits an illegal Bosnian immigrant (Diane Kruger) and a private eye (Bruno Ganz) to get to the bottom of this mystery.

A couple of years ago, Neeson tore Paris apart searching for his kidnapped daughter in an enjoyably trashy Euro-thriller called "Taken." "I'll tear down the Eiffel Tower if I have to," he said, veins bulging in his forehead. The trailer for his latest flick, "Unknown," promises more of the same, but instead delivers almost two hours of Neeson shouting "I am Dr. Martin Harris!" at anyone who'll listen as the movie limps from one dreary set piece to another. It's endless minutes of co-incidences, Cold War references and dramatic pauses.

Neeson, as usual, is convincing, or I should say, as convincing as this script will allow him to be, but is let down by a script that has him delivering melodramatic lines like, "Do you know what it feel like to become insane?" and a co-star in January Jones who is quickly proving that Betty Draper may be a career high for her.

Despite a car chase or two "Unknown" isn't an action film, nor is it Euro-trashy enough to be as fun as "Taken" or interesting enough to succeed as a psychological drama.

WAITING FOR SUPERMAN DVD: 4 STARS

The premise of "Waiting for Superman," the new documentary from "An Inconvenient Truth" Oscar-winner Davis Guggenheim, isn't a new idea. We've heard for years that America's public school system is broken, letting down the very people it was designed to help—the kids. It sounds standard, yet what Guggenheim reveals is anything but.

His unflinching camera follows a number of students as they navigate their way through the landmine ridden terrain of a school year. His careful analysis of the state of education reveals some disturbing truths by putting a human face on it. By and large he leaves out the politics and allows the stories of the children to become the focus leading up to a climax—a lottery system to win a place at a better school—that will have you on the edge of your seat.

"Waiting for Superman" is riveting stuff, and for Canadians, a cautionary tale.

JUSTIN BIEBER: NEVER SAY NEVER: 3  STARS

WARNING! No matter what age you are “Justin Bieber: Never Say Never” will make you feel old. The story of a pop prodigy who mastered a drum kit before entering the double digits and sold out Madison Square Gardens when he was barely old enough to drive will make you wonder what you have done with your life.

This documentary – concert film hybrid, which could be more rightly called “Portrait of a Sensation,” follows Bieber from his humble beginnings with single mom Patti in Stratford, Ontario to YouTube sensation to sharing the stage with Miley Cyrus and Jaden Smith at Madison Square Garden. It’s an up-close-and-personal look at the star. So up-close-and-personal we even get a shot of his vocal chords!

Bieber, in case you’ve been living under a rock for the last year, is the singing sensation who Tiny Fey describes as looking like “a dreamy Christmas elf.” After being discovered singing covers of chart hits on YouTube he was mentored by hip hop star Usher when he was only in grade eight and is now the heartthrob du jour for tweens everywhere. One young girl admits to thinking about him “99% of my life,” while another teen confidently announces, “I’ll be his first wife.” Lock up your daughters; it’s Bieber Time.     

Generally these kind of music bios offer up lots of music with some exclusive backstage footage and embarrassing childhood photos wedged between the tunes, and by and large that’s what “Justin Bieber: Never Say Never” provides, but it also paints a portrait of a real kid in a very unreal situation.

It wasn’t that long ago that he was playing for 40 or so fans at a water park in Poughkeepsie, New York—2009 to be exact—and now he’s selling out Madison Square Gardens in 22 minutes. It’s been a wild ride and we get a sense of that in the movie, of the hard work and talent that got him to where he is, but don’t expect any searing personal insights.

We learn that he’s very close to his family, that he behaves like any other sixteen year old kid would when he isn’t on stage, and that he still gets told to clean his room by his grandmother but there is little light shone on how his rise to fame has really affected him. We’re told that he sometimes “whines” that he doesn’t have a normal life and his Stratford buddies complain that they don’t get to see him everyday anymore, but there is very little from Bieber himself. Maybe it’s too early to tell how all this will affect him, after all it has all happened rather quickly, but some insight from the star himself would have made this more interesting.

Still the movie seems less contrived than you might imagine from someone at the very peak of teen stardom. It’s interesting to compare Bieber to his Disney and Nickelodeon colleagues. Demi Lovato and the Jonas Brothers, for example, all have tightly controlled public personas, but Bieber, who hasn’t been pushed through the Disney / Nickelodeon sausage factory, seems far less manufactured. Perhaps it’s because he’s Canadian, but Bieber comes across as earnest, not contrived. Maybe it’s the difference between well-managed rather than prepackaged.    

“Justin Bieber: Never Say Never” has some touching moments—hearing his grandparents talk about their grandson’s movie to Atlanta to follow his career—some odd moments—Snoop Dogg discussing hair styles—some self depreciating moments—a slo mo hair flip montage is funny—and lots of standard teen dream music. It’s bound to be a fan favorite but a little more depth might have opened up its appeal to people not yet infected with Bieber Fever.  

JUST GO WITH IT: 1 STAR

With the release of “Just Go with It,” the latest Happy Madison comedy, Adam Sandler puts himself one step closer to Woody Allen territory.

But not in a good way.

He now joins the ranks of middle-aged movie stars who cast themselves opposite impossibly hot love interests. Watching the 44 year old star whooping it up with a 23 year-old swim-suit model put me in the mind of Woody’s endless attempts to recapture his long forgotten cinematic youth.

“Just Go with It” begins with one of those premises that only exists as a movie idea. Sandler plays Danny, a successful Beverly Hills plastic surgeon. Twenty years ago he learned the kind of valuable lesson that can only be taught in rom coms. That is, women cannot resist a man with a wedding ring and a story of martial woe. By day he reshapes rich people’s bodies with the help of his pretty assistant Katherine (Jennifer Aniston); by night he picks up young women in bars. Everything changes though when he meets Palmer (Brooklyn Decker), a va-va-voom twenty-something teacher. For the first time he meets a woman without using the ring trick, but when she discovers his prop wedding ring he fabricates a long story about being on the edge of a divorce. Of course she wants to meet the soon-to-be-ex to make sure the story is true. And then the fun begins.

Except that it doesn’t.

The movie never takes off. It feels less like a story and more like an endless stream of inappropriate remarks and IBS gags masquerading as jokes. That’s true of several of Sandler’s movies, but usually he‘s charming enough to carry the day and usually the movies aren’t this bad. This truly is a case of likeable actors making an unlikeable movie.

The film’s premise is odious enough, even for a rom com but worse than that is probably the most annoying kid’s performance ever—sorry Bailee Madison, but that Eliza Doolittle accent thing you do isn’t cute, it’s grating—and the comic stylings of Nick Swardson manage to make things even less amusing than they already were.

The film’s nadir is a desperately unfunny scene in a nightclub that will make you long for the days when Adam Sandler got into fist fights with Bob Barker and battled a cursive problem.

On the plus side there’s a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it cameo from Heidi Montag which suggests maybe she does have a sense of humor about her plastic surgery woes. Also former swim suit model Brooklyn Decker adds some eye candy, (but acts about as well as you would imagine a swim suit model would act), the “Ha-wow-ee” setting is nice and boomers may enjoy the all-Sting soundtrack but that’s about it.

Despite its beautiful features—both location and cast—“Just Go with It” should be, more truthfully, titled “Just Go Away From It.”

GNOMEO & JULIET: 3 STARS

“Romeo & Juliet” is arguably the best known of Shakespeare’s plays. Certainly it is his most loved romance and is one of the most filmed plays of all time. Among the modern versions of the two young “star-cross'd lovers” are a classic big screen MGM adaptation starring Leslie Howard and Norma Shearer, the musical “West Side Story” and an anime rendering about two rival ninja clans fighting each other. Perhaps the strangest reimagining of the story, however, hits screens this weekend. As the title suggests, “Gnomeo & Juliet” replaces the human protagonists with garden gnomes. That’s not gnormal but then again, this isn’t your garden variety kid’s flick.

Set on Verona Drive, the movie takes place in the back gardens of feuding neighbors Mr. Montague and Mrs. Capulet. Their dispute isn’t the only grudge on the block however. While they are away at work or asleep at night their garden gnomes come to life and do battle. Divided into red and blue gardens, every night the gnomes kick some grass in an effort to sabotage one another. The whole situation comes to a head when Gnomeo (voice of James McAvoy) and Juliet (Emily Blunt) fall hopelessly in love after a chance encounter.

“Gnomeo & Juliet” isn’t a strict translation of Bill Shakespeare’s play. In other words, and this is not a spoiler, it doesn’t end in gnomacide. Other than that the themes of the original are in place—like the forcefulness of love, love as a cause of violence and the individual versus society—but that’s for eggheads and this is for kids. In the movie the high-falutin’ themes have been winnowed down to nice teachable moments for the tots about tolerance and not judging a book by it’s cover, or in this case, a gnome by the color of their hat.

Parents will likely get a kick out of the nods to classic movies—there’s the chariot race from “Ben Hur,” the bucket scene from “Flashdance” and “American Beauty’s” bed of roses to name a few—and the equally classic Elton John song (he’s a producer on this along with his husband David Furnish) but overall this is pitched at young children.

The best thing about “Gnomeo & Juliet” is the animation. Each of the colorful gnomes has a distinct personality and the animators have carefully recreated the weathered ceramic look of real garden gnomes.  

The downside is kind of dull voice work—surprising because the cast is a who’s who, including Michael Caine, Maggie Smith and Ozzy Osbourne and even duller 3D. But despite the lack of really memorable voices the story carries the day to create a fun family-friendly film.       

THE EAGLE: 2 ½ STARS

“The Eagle,” a new “Gladiator-lite” movie from Academy Award winner Kevin MacDonald, plays more like a B.C. buddy picture than a brutal Roman centurion drama.

Based on the legend of the Legio IX Hispana (Ninth Spanish Legion)—a group of 5000 warriors thought to have disappeared in Britain in AD 117—the film sees emotive former fashion model Channing Tatum as centurion Marcus Aquila, the son of the leader of the Ninth Legion. His mission is to discover what really happened to his father’s battalion and recover the lost golden Eagle statue. Along for the ride is his slave Esca (Jamie Bell), who helps navigate the treacherous lands beyond Hadrian's Wall (modern day Scotland).

Channing Tatum, an actor poised on the edge of becoming the next big thing, is the central character here. He’s in 99% of the film, and it is his story that drives the action. It’s too bad then, that he is so wildly miscast. Channing is not without his physical charms—think Brad Pitt in “Thelma and Louise”—and is a credible movie star but perhaps a modern day setting would better suit him. Frankly, he’s more San Diego than sword and sandal. In short, even though he gives the role a heroic try, “The Eagle” will not be his “Gladiator.”

Tatum aside, the movie feels lackluster despite its beautiful photography and interesting design. It’s a well made but poorly paced film that puts WAY too much emphasis on the retrieval of the golden eagle, a small statue we’re told is the symbol of Rome. For much of the movie the golden idol is a McGuffin, little more than a device to get the action started, but by the time the story really gets underway we’re supposed to care whether or not Aquila recovers it.

Unfortunately we don’t. It’s a central premise that doesn’t engage the viewer. Also, wouldn’t a large golden eagle weigh at least 100 pounds? The way these actors toss the thing around it seems lighter than a real life sparrow.

Better is the connection between Aquila and Esca. Their slave vs. master bond doesn’t hold much promise as a warm and fuzzy relationship and yet the movie demonstrates how friendship can slice through political divides.

“The Eagle” is a strange hybrid of history and pop culture—a mix of period and anachronistic dialogue with a modern buddy story grafted onto a Roman backdrop—that, despite its title, never really takes flight.

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.

SANCTUM: 0 STARS

“Sanctum” is a James Cameron-produced 3D-a-rama set, not in outer space, but in a world almost as strange. Deep inside a cave, a place one of the characters says is so remote, “there are no rescues down here, only body recoveries.”

The movie follows  a group of underwater cave divers—including the expert adventurist (Richard Roxburgh), his rebellious son (Rhys Wakefield), a rich hobbyist (Ioan Gruffudd, a dead ringer for the Food Network’s Surreal Gourmet Bob Bloomer) and a number of other disposable cavers—as they  explore a cave system in Papua New Guinea. Their dangerous mission becomes even more life threatening when a sudden storm floods the system, blocking their most obvious exit. The only other way out is a dangerous route downward toward the ocean. Tack on a father and son story, some “Kubla Khan” references and a claustrophobic scene or two and you have a the kind of movie that gets released in February.

“Sanctum” is my first seatbelt movie of the year. It’s a movie so awful in almost every way I thought I might need a seatbelt to keep me in my chair for the whole thing.

Where to start? The dialogue is so wooden I swear I saw woodpeckers circling the theatre. At one point Carl (Gruffudd) says about Victoria (Alice Parkinson), “she’s strong like bull, but smart like tractor.” When she replies, sarcastically, “How original,” it’s unclear who she is talking to, Carl or the screenwriters.

It’s as if the screenwriters felt that the 3D would pick up the slack for the lack of story, interesting characters or good dialogue. They were wrong. Some of the movie is spectacular looking, but as the movie wears on, and it turns into a kind of “Poseidon Adventure” escape movie—but without the boat—and the portable flashlights they all carrying start to fade the 3D becomes murky and less pretty.

“Sanctum,” I think, is a good example of why 3D isn’t the great savior that Hollywood seems to think it is. Pretty pictures alone don’t make a great movie. They can help, but if you just want pretty pictures, go to a gallery. Movies are about the total package.

Don’t be fooled by James Cameron’s name in the credits. “Sanctum” is no “Avatar.”

THE MECHANIC: 3 STARS

Jason Statham isn't so much an actor as he is a brand. When you go to McDonald's you know you can expect the two all beef patties, special sauce and the sesame seed bun to taste the same whether you're in Toronto or Hong Kong. It's that kind of brand management that has made Statham a star. You know what to expect from his movies -- rippling abs, some high kicking action, his trademarked facial stubble and loads of explosions. It's a simple formula but one that works for his fans. Perhaps the advertising slogan for his new film, "The Mechanic," should be "New, But Not Improved."

This time around Statham plays Arthur Bishop, a highly trained and highly dangerous hit man. "Pulling a trigger is easy," he says in his distinctive rumble, "the best jobs are the ones where no one even knows you where there." Like the character he plays in "The Transporter" movies, he's detached, precise and no nonsense. When his mentor and friend Harry (Donald Sutherland) is killed Arthur turns mentor for Harry's troubled son (Ben Foster), teaching him his deadly trade.

What Statham lacks in range he makes up for in muscle tone. His well crafted on-screen persona is equal parts stoic masculinity and lithe athletic ability. He's Charles Bronson (who starred in the original "The Mechanic" in 1972) with better moves, a man of action and few words in the mold of Clint Eastwood, if Clint had a better roundhouse kick. In "The Mechanic," his 27th film since 1998 (and he has at least five more in the pipeline), he doesn't do anything we haven't seen him do before, but no matter, he simply does the things we expect him to do. That's what brands do, and as movie brands go these days he's about as reliable as it gets.

Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson's brand, for example, tries to tread similar ground, but every now and again veers off course with a kid's flick or comedy, but not Statham. "The Mechanic" and his other films are so true to brand they're almost interchangeable. Only the character names, and, occasionally the facial expressions, change.

Is "The Mechanic" a good movie? If you liked "The Transporter," then yes, you'll like "The Mechanic." If not, then perhaps the Statham brand is not for you.

THE RITE: 2 STARS

If there was an after-school special about exorcism "The Rite" would be it. Its earnest, has a message and there's even a teenage pregnancy angle.

Based on the book "The Making of a Modern Exorcist," "The Rite" is the story of Michael Kovak (Colin O'Donoghue) a seminary student weeks away from graduation and taking his vows. The trouble is, he isn't a believer. He went to the seminary to get out of the family business -- his Dad's (Rutger "Hobo with a Shotgun" Hauer) mortuary. The men in his family, he says only have two career options -- caring for the dead or joining the priesthood. When he tries to opt out of taking his vows an older priest arranges for him to go to Rome and study exorcism, a sure way, the priest thinks, to reaffirm Michael's faith. In Italy he meets Father Lucas, a veteran priest and expert in exorcism, who leads his student into a wild satanic showdown.

The holy man with a crisis-of-faith is by now a standard exorcism movie character. We've seen it as recently as last year's "The Last Exorcism" and we've seen it done with more spirit (no pun intended) than O'Donoghue conjures up here. Luckily he has Anthony Hopkins, master thespian and expert scenery-chewer to keep things lively. Quick! Somebody get Hopkins some mustard to go along with the ham he's selling here.

As Father Lucas he's got the movies best lines and has no problem giving them with gusto. It's an unexpected performance and rather entertaining.

The movie, however, isn't trying as hard as Hopkins. It's not scary, occasionally freaky, but not scary. When Father Lucas asks, "What'd you expect? Spinning heads and pea soup?" I wanted to shout, "Actually, yes Father, I do!" An exorcism movie without those elements is, well, sinful.

Worse than that, "The Rite" is at least twenty minutes too long. It s-l-o-w-l-y builds to an entertaining final exorcism, but the subplot about a pregnant "possessee" goes on too long and the inclusion of a demon mule (seriously) take the focus away from where it belongs -- on the relationship between Michael and Father Lucas. That older priest, younger priest thing worked really well in "The Exorcist" and could have here as well, if only the movie was a tad more interesting.

"The Rite" aspires to be a high-minded story about faith but falls flat when Hopkins isn't on screen. There's little sympathy for this devil...

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."

NO STRINGS ATTACHED: 2 STARS

“No Strings Attached,” the new R-rated rom com from director Ivan “Ghostbusters” Reitman is a modern movie for a generation of text and sex couples terrified of commitment.

Ashton Kutcher and Natalie Portman play 20-something Los Angelenos who slowly realize that sex is easy while love requires a lot more work. She’s a “relationshiphobic” workaholic. He wears his heart on his sleeve. At first they agree to a friends-with-benefits set up, arranging trysts by text and keeping it informal but when the l-word—that’s love—rears its head it threatens to blow apart their casual connection.      

“No Strings Attached” is one of those rare movies where the main characters are the least interesting people in the movie. Natalie Portman (who stars and is one of the movie’s producers) is having an interesting year professionally. In “Black Swan” she hands in one of the most memorable performances of the year only to follow it up with a dull offering a movie that she seems miscast in. This seems more like a Kathryn Hiegl movie than a Natalie Portman vehicle; a movie with leads that could have been played by any number of Hollywood rom com regulars. Insert Heigl and Paul Rudd or Kristen Bell and Josh Duhamel and this would have been pretty much the same movie.

Worse, despite the bouncing bed springs and many, many shared sex scenes, Kutcher and Portman don’t seem to have much chemistry. The pair generates so little heat you may want to bring a blanket with you to the theatre.

Luckily the supporting cast has more to offer than the above-the-title stars. Who knew Chris 'Ludacris' Bridges had such a light touch? He has a small, recurring role and knocks it out of the park every time he’s on screen. Ditto Greta Gerwig, the former indie darling who impressed in “Greenberg” and now has the funniest line in this movie and will someone please give Lake Bell the lead in a comedy. She’s beautiful, funny and pulls focus from whoever she shares a frame with. As the neurotic television producer she has the funniest almost-love scene we’ve seen in ages and adds some much needed zip to the predictable and occasionally even dull story.

Go to see Natalie Portman and Ashton Kutcher sorta naked. Stay to see Lake Bell, Ludacris and Gerwig bring the funny.

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.

THE WAY BACK: 3 ½ STARS

“The Way Back,” a new drama from “Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World’ director Peter Weir, is a sprawling epic with a very personal focus. Set against the backdrop of war, inhumanity and an almost insurmountable challenge, it is about that most personal of things, survival.

Based on a controversial memoir written by Slavomir Rawicz, “The Way Back” begins with Polish solider Janusz (Jim Sturgess) sent to a hellish Siberian gulag in 1941 on trumped up charges. Sentenced to ten years—a term he knows he won’t survive—he and a group of prisoners, including a grizzled American soldier (Ed Harris) and a violent Russian criminal (Colin Farrell) make a break for it. Their goal? Freedom. The obstacle? A 4000 kilometer walk through the harsh terrain of Mongolia, China and Tibet on the way to India and a new life. Along the way they pick up one more traveler, a young girl (Saoirse Ronan) whose camaraderie helps bond the ragtag band of escapees.    

Visually Weir and cinematographer Russell Boyd have created a film in which the surroundings really become as much a part of the fabric of the story as the characters. The breathtaking shots of the terrain the travelers pass through add much to the story, emphasizing the isolation and hardship of the journey. Their choice to showcase the backgrounds echoes David Lean and gives the film an epic feel as the story narrows and focuses on the characters.

The acting is uniformly excellent, with Ed Harris and Colin Farrell handing in tremendous work, but the most memorable performance belongs to Saoirse Ronan, the sixteen-year-old Irish actress. Here she plays an orphan whose enthusiasm and spirit gives the men the will to go on. She brings heart to a film that occasionally is a bit dour for its own good.

“The Way Back” is compelling stuff, a nicely painted portrait of the will to outwit, outlast and outplay against all odds.

INCENDIES: 3 ½ STARS (UNTIL THE VERY END)

“Incendies,” Canada’s entry in the Oscar race for Best Foreign Film, was made by a Quebec filmmaker and shot in the Middle East but plays like a Greek tragedy. Adapted from Wajdi Mouawad's acclaimed play of the same name it weaves a complicated story of, as reported on IMDB, “of deep-rooted hatred, never-ending wars and enduring love.”

The story begins with a mother’s last wish, a request in her will that her estranged twin kids travel to her homeland (an unnamed Middle Eastern country) in search of some hard truths about her life and, ultimately, their very existence.

I have to start by saying that “Incendies” is expertly made, with gorgeous cinematography, great performances, particularly from Lubna Azabal as the mother Nawal, and at least one sequence as memorable as anything we’ll see on screen this year—a harrowing attack on a bus by Christian extremists—but my overall feeling of the film is tempered by the movie’s closing moments.

I have a theory that the last minutes of a movie can color the way you feel about a film. For instance a so-so movie can be bolstered by a blockbuster ending. Similarly a great movie with a weak ending can come down a notch or two in the viewer’s estimation.

Such is the case with “Incendies.” Director Denis Villeneuve—the helmer of Maelström and Polytechnique —is not one to shy away from the difficult or unpalatable aspects of whatever story he is telling, which is normally a good thing. That makes him one of the braver and more interesting filmmakers working today. And while for much of the running time “Incendies” plays like a roll call of misery, it all seems to fit, until the very end when he caps the story with a revelation so unbelievable it makes the rest of the film ring hollow. Being shocked at the theatre is one thing. We don’t have enough movie moments that really challenge us these days, but a climax this unsatisfying isn’t shocking really, just disappointing after such an interesting film.

I can’t go into details without revealing a MAJOR plot point but suffice to say that an ending that stretches credulity to this point is almost worse than no ending at all.

THE DILEMMA: 2 STARS

In "The Dilemma," the latest from director Ron Howard, Vince Vaughn and Kevin James star as car designers trying create a new, sporty hybrid automobile. It's a fitting job for them as the movie is kind of a hybrid itself, two parts screwball comedy to one part drama.

Vaughn and James are Ronny and Nick, best friends and business partners who relate to one another mostly by speaking in football metaphors. By day they work together, creating a new hybrid car for Dodge; at night (in the beginning of the movie anyway) they and their significant others, girlfriend Beth (Jennifer Connelly) and wife Geneva (Winona Ryder), hang out, tight as peas in a pod. Everything changes one day, however, when Ronny sees Geneva kissing another man, the muscle-bound stud Zip (Channing Tatum). Enter the dilemma. Does he tell his best friend that his wife is having an affair and risk ruining their marriage and adding stress to Nick's life when they are on the cusp of the biggest business deal of their careers?

At the heart of "The Dilemma" is Vince Vaughn, once the charming actor of "Swingers" and a series of comedies like "Wedding Crashers," now a one-trick-pony who relies a bit too heavily on his uncanny ability to string together long uninterrupted phrases of hip back talk. It was funny in 2005, amusing in 2007 and has now worn out its welcome. What happened to the actor capable of interesting work in movies like "Into the Wild"? He's become guilty of recycling the same character from movie to movie with only small variations.

Here he plays a self-centered meddler who sticks his nose where it doesn't belong. Sure there are a few laughs -- and only a few -- along the way, but they come with a been-there-done-that feeling of déjà Vaughn.

Otherwise it's an adult sit-com whose idea of humor is to have the stocky Kevin James deliver lines like, "Love can be very filling, like a warm stew." The serious stuff, and there's more than you would expect in a movie marketed as a comedy, doesn't really ring true, but at least Jennifer Connelly brings an air of authenticity to the relationship end of her story.

Most of "The Dilemma's" best moments are in the trailer, a two-minute synopsis of the story, which benefits from the lack of Vaughn's motor-mouth riffing. Come to think of it, the entire movie could have benefitted from less Vaughn and more jokes.

THE GREEN HORNET: 3 STARS

Superhero movies don't generally get January releases. Typically they're summer fare, warm weather entertainments catering to teens looking for something cool to pass the school break. But "The Green Hornet" isn't a typical superhero movie. Directed by French art house favourite Michel Gondry and starring Canadian comedian Seth Rogen, it adds something new to the masked crime fighter genre -- whimsy.

An all-star cast, including Rogen, Oscar winner Christoph Waltz, Cameron Diaz and Taiwanese superstar Jay Chou, headline the updated adventures of the Green Hornet. In this version Britt Reid (Rogen), heir to his late father's publishing company, enlists martial arts wiz Kato (Jay Chou) to form a masked crime fighting duo. Together they hatch an unusual strategy to help Britt get over his serious daddy issues and take on the leader of the city's underworld, Russian criminal Benjamin Chudnofsky (Waltz).

"The Green Hornet" has all the elements usually associated with superhero movies -- cool gadgets like a car that would make "Knight Rider's" Kit green with envy, wild action and a dastardly villain -- but it also, for better and for worse, has Seth Rogen. Rogen fans will likely take to his slacker party-boy interpretation of Britt Reid -- imagine Paris Hilton with chest hair and you get the idea -- but I'll guess there will be more than one "Green Hornet" purist who will find his take on the character somewhat sacrilegious.

He neither really looks like or behaves like the crime fighters we've become used to in "Batman" and the like, and if you can get past that there is much to enjoy here. If not, maybe stay home and rent "The Dark Knight." Again.

On the other hand Jay Chou over-compensates in the hero department. As sidekick and chauffer Kato he's a cool character with great moves and some of the movie's best lines, and even pays sly tribute to Bruce Lee, who played the role in the TV series.

Christoph Waltz, the very definition of evil in "Inglorious Basterds," is suitably evil and seems to be having some fun, but seems to be calibrating his performance more toward the cartoony "Batman" television series villains than his finely crafted (and award winning) Colonel Landa.

Cameron Diaz is fine in the Gwyneth Paltrow "Iron Man" role but is given little to do.

"The Green Hornet" is a more a comedy than action movie -- although there are some nice action sequences -- brave enough to pay tribute to the original while bringing the story and the characters into Rogen and Gondry's strange universe.

ANOTHER YEAR: 4 STARS

"Another Year," the new kitchen-sink drama from British director Mike Leigh should more accurately be titled "Look at All the Lonely People." A nicely rendered portrait of forlorn folks, it's as if Leigh tried to make a film as dour as his last movie, "Happy-Go-Lucky," was effervescent.

Much of the action in "Another Year" revolves around the home of Tom and Gerri (Jim Broadbent and Ruth Sheen), a happy couple just a few years shy of retirement. With open arms and open hearts they welcome a diverse cast of characters -- people as unstable as they are stable -- into their home, including Gerri's desperately unhappy co-worker Mary (Lesley Manville) and Tom's old friend Ken (Peter Wight). Stirred into the mix are the couple's geeky son (Oliver Maltman), his girlfriend (Karina Fernandez) and Tom's recently widowed brother ("Harry Potter's" David Bradley).

As the title suggests, "Another Year" takes place over the course of a year, divided into four sections, each representing a season. Presented as a slice-of-life look at this group of people -- very light on plot but heavy on character -- it has little to do with the passing of time, except to imply that time doesn't really heal all wounds, but the loose structure gives form to the otherwise shapeless, although entertaining, story.

Performances rich in nuance abound -- Broadbent is his usually effortless self and Sheen is warm and watchable -- but it is Lesley Manville who steals the show. Her take on Mary is the personification of dissatisfaction and distress and dominates the movie.

"Another Year" isn't a traditional narrative but like the best of Leigh's films it is unflinching in its portrayal of real -- not reel -- life.

SEASON OF THE WITCH: 1 STAR

Set in the years following the Crusades, "Season of the Witch" sees Nicolas Cage go all medieval on the forces of evil and, very possibly, his credibility as an actor.

Cage and Ron "Hellboy" Perlman play AWOL knights who fled the Crusades after being forced to slaughter women and children in the name of God. When they are apprehended and accused of being deserters they save themselves from rotting in a plague ridden dungeon by making a deal to transport a known witch cross country to where she can be tried and hopefully, put an end to the Black Plague. Of course, even though they have the help of a colourful cast of characters -- including a priest, a criminal and a God's warrior wannabe -- they have a devil of a time getting her to the sanctuary.

I've lost track trying to list the career phases of Nicolas Cage. There was the loose-limbed eccentricity of "Wild at Heart" and "Raising Arizona." The method acting of "Leaving Las Vegas" and extreme jazz riffing of "Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans," among others but his latest movie seems to indicate a new chapter. It's no secret that Cage is suffering some financial difficulties these days, but "Season of the Witch," a pay cheque movie if there ever was one, suggests that he is not only financially bankrupt but artistically as well.

I wasn't a big fan of his larger-than-life acting in "Bangkok Dangerous" and "Knowing," but at least he seemed to be putting some effort into his work. Here he's lifeless and flat, as though simply showing up with hairpiece intact is enough to constitute a performance. I miss the extreme Nicolas Cage, the actor who wasn't afraid to take chances, not the confounding Cage who buries his talent under a pay cheque.

Cage's performance is simply the cherry on top of this rancid Sundae. Director Dominic Sena -- what's happened to this guy since he made "Kalifornia"? --does his best Uwe Boll impression behind the camera, junking up the story with bad buddy-cop-dialogue-with-a-1332 AD-twist -- "We're gonna need more holy water!" -- and even worse special effects.

It's too early to call "Season of the Witch" one of the worst movies of the year but it does set the bar awfully high… or low.

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.

BLUE VALENTINE: 2 1/2 STARS

"Blue Valentine," a new character study starring Ryan Gostling and Michelle Williams, starts off with the loss of a beloved family pet and ends on an even more downbeat note.

The non-linear story begins in present day. Dean (Gostling), Cindy (Williams) and their daughter Frankie (Faith Wladyka) are a family unit teetering on the edge. Notes of tension are infused in their conversation and the only thing that seems to bond the couple is their love for Frankie. For the next 100 minutes we learn about them by jumping around on their relationship's timeline; how they met -- while visiting people at an old folks' home -- and how a once happy pairing fell prey to distrust and difficulty.

As you might expect from actors of the calibre of Gostling and Williams, the performances are top notch. Gosling seems to embody Dean, a high school drop-out with a great facility for love but also for volatile behavior and Williams has one of those empathic faces that can vacillate between joy and sorrow with just a very slight change in expression. But for all the skill of its performers "Blue Valentine" feels one-note.

The break up of Dean and Cindy's marriage is not only painful for their make-believe movie family but for the viewer as well. Emotionally raw is good. So is heart-wrenching. But the repetition with which both these aspects of the story are displayed wears down any feeling the viewer may have for either character. It's like watching a couple bicker on the subway. You feel sorry for them but hope they'll get off at the next stop.

SOMEWHERE: 3 1/2 STARS

In "Somewhere" director Sophia Coppola brings a very European sensibility to that most American of subjects -- the life of a Hollywood star.

Stephen Dorff is Johnny Marco, a movie star between projects. He lives at the swanky Chateau Marmont, which is sort of an upscale boarding house for celebrities located just off LA's Sunset Strip. Pole dancers come and go, parties are held, pills are popped and one day bleeds into the next. In a more traditional movie a lifestyle epiphany would accompany the arrival of his 11-year-old daughter (Dakota's little sister Elle Fanning) but this isn't a traditional movie.

The movie plays like a tone poem rather than a conventional movie. Long stretches pass by without any dialogue, or even scenes that forward the story. But to be fair, "Somewhere" isn't about story, it's about establishing a feeling. Coppola spends virtually the entire 97 minute running time exploring the minutia of Marco's empty life. It's the de-glamorization of the Hollywood dream revealing the isolated and private life of a public figure.

Scenes, or rather, set pieces, amplify Marco's seclusion. Bored looking strippers -- complete with portable poles -- come to his room, he throws parties filled with people he doesn't know and passes out during some anonymous sex. There's no joy, no celebration, just emptiness. Its ground Coppola has tread before (and better) in her other hotel based movie "Lost in Translation," but here she adds large dollops of ambiguity. In an era where every celebrity foible becomes tabloid fodder Coppola chooses to underplay the underbelly of celebrity, neither playing up the allure nor amplifying the seediness. The lack of any real intimate moments renders the portrait incomplete, but Dorff's melancholy performance adds depth to a basically superficial take on celebrity life.

Some will find "Somewhere's" thinly carved slice-of-life approach self indulgent, others will think it is insightful but I found the style of the film, which overpowers whatever substance may be lurking beneath the pretty pictures, hypnotic.

TRUE GRIT: 3 ½ STARS

The trailer for “True Grit,” the Coen Brothers retooling of the John Wayne classic—let’s call it “New Grit”—is atmospheric and dark, a feeling underscored by the choice of music, Johnny Cash’s wonderfully stark “God’s Gonna Cut You Down.” It feels very much like “Unforgiven,” Clint Eastwood’s chilling study of morality in the old West, but don’t be fooled. While it may share some of the themes with Eastwood’s classic—like retribution and honor—it plays much differently.

In this adaptation of Charles Portis’ novel “True Grit,” spirited fourteen year old Mattie Ross (Hailee Steinfeld) seeks revenge on Tom Chaney (Josh Brolin), the man who gunned down her father. When the local sheriff declines help she hires a gruff U.S. Marshall named Reuben “Rooster” Cogburn (Jeff Bridges) to track down and murder… er, capture Chaney. Preferably, for Mattie, the former. “I never shot anyone I didn’t have to,” he says, explaining his methods. Along for the ride is Texas Ranger LaBoeuf (Matt Damon) who watches the growing relationship between his two manhunt trail mates and suggests that Cogburn has gone from “marauder to wet nurse.”

“True Grit” feels like lesser Coen Brothers. Luckily lesser work from the Bros is still better than almost everything else, but despite the cast—Jeff Bridges in his Oscar follow-up role, Matt Damon and Josh Brolin—this isn’t a classic. It is a simple story of reprisal but without the nuance you’d expect from the makers of “No Country for Old Men.” It’s an old fashioned action adventure film—there’s even some slapstick comedy!—an entertaining one, but nonetheless, very little more than that.

Bridges is solid as the crotchety Cogburn, although he seems to have taken diction lessons from Keith Richards by way of Tom Waits. Damon is getting some early Oscar buzz but the performance to look out for belongs to Hailee Steinfeld. The almost unknown actress—she just has a handful of credits on her IMDB listing—is in almost every scene and redefines plucky. She delivers some very wordy dialogue—apparently in the old west even marauders spoke like Victorians—but beyond the technical aspect of the performance, is utterly believable as the headstrong girl who isn’t afraid to throw her weight around to get what she wants. Charming.

“True Grit” is a western in the classic style, and will be suited to most members of the family (although I have a feeling that the Jeff Bridges movie most teenage boys are going to see this holiday season will be “Tron: Legacy”), it just isn’t a classic.

GULLIVER’S TRAVELS: 1 STAR

We can blame Stephen Frears for the travesty that is “Gulliver’s Travels.” Frears didn’t director or work on this big budget 3D adaptation of Jonathan Swift’s satiric novel. In fact he might not have been within a hundred miles of the set, but ten years ago he cast Jack Black in “High Fidelity,” a movie that showcased the actor’s unhinged brand of humor and made him a star. Black had kicked around Hollywood previously, taking small roles in movies like “The Jackal” and “Enemy of the State,” but Frears gave voice to Black’s now trademarked manic enfant terrible act. Since then there’s been good moments—“School of Rock,” “Kung Fu Panda”—some bad moments—“Envy” and “Year One” and now a downright ugly film—“Gulliver’s Travels.”

Black plays Lemuel Gulliver, a ten year mail room veteran at a big publishing company with only one ambition—to date Darcy (Amanda Peet) a pretty magazine travel editor. When he finally works up the courage to ask her out a misunderstanding leads to him being offered a travel writing assignment instead. Sent to the Bermuda Triangle, he gets sucked into a vortex and lands in Lilliput, a miniature kingdom under constant attack by a neighbouring nation. When Gulliver helps defend the diminutive country he becomes a hero to all except the scheming General Edward (Chris O’Dowd) who will stop at nothing to cut the giant down to size.
       
At one point during the action Jack Black cracks a joke and follows the punch line with, “Does that translate? Is that a joke here?” a question he probably should have asked after initially reading the script. The satiric tone of the novel has been surgically removed, replaced with “Star Wars” references, a lame musical number and Black’s incessant mugging. I get that this has been reinvented with a young audience in mind, but dumbing down a classic novel like this just seems wrong. It’s like watching “King Lear” interpreted by The Three Stooges with Larry, Curly and Moe as Goneril, Regan and Cordelia. It just doesn’t fit. Perhaps a title change might have been in order. May I suggest “Gulliver’s Twaddle”? 

The problem doesn’t lie completely with the script. It’s terrible to be sure, but its Black’s antics that really sink the movie. He dominates the movie, and not just because he is twenty times the size of his co-stars. Perhaps it’s just that a little bit of his hyperactive slacker routine goes a long way or perhaps that we’re weary of his overgrown kid shtick. What once seemed so fresh now seems tired and worse, not funny.

“Gulliver’s Travels” suffers from some dodgy special effects, a dreary script and an over abundance of Black, and for that I blame Stephen Frears.

LITTLE FOCKERS: 1 ½ STARS

Here’s a question. What’s Barbra Streisand’s worst movie? Or Dustin Hoffman’s? Or Robert De Niro’s? How about Harvey Keitel? It’s a trick question. Here’s a hint: It’s just one movie. Another hint? It’s a sequel and it’s in theatres right now. Enough hints. It’s “Little Fockers,” the third in a series of movies about a male nurse named Greg Focker (Ben Stiller) and his overly suspicious father-in-law (De Niro).
 
In this outing Greg, now moonlighting as a pharmaceutical salesman, must prove to Jack (De Niro) that he isn’t fooling around on Pam (Teri Polo) and is worthy to be the patriarch or Godfokker of the whole family.
 
“Little Fockers” is an interesting study in what passes for a successful comedy franchise these days. Its producers must be hoping that familiar faces and situations will equal laughs and big box office. They’re probably half right. The Focker mix likely will garner big returns at the box office, but the laughs aren’t there. Three movies in the ideas seem to have run out. Instead of the freshness of the first movie, we’re treated warmed over jokes, innuendo, a series of misunderstandings and the only enema-flirtation scene to ever appear in a Streisand movie. There is the odd laugh and a few giggle worthy scenes but they are few and far between. 
 
It’s ram packed with big stars—even if one of them, Harvey Keitel, seems to only be there to add some heft to the marquee—but to be fair no one is doing their best work. Jessica Alba seems to be having fun playing a wild-child pharmaceutical rep but most of the other performances have a been-there-done-that feel, as if the movie was strung together from outtakes from the past Focker films. We also seem to have reached the self parody stage of De Niro’s career. Please Robert, if there is a fourth movie, no more Godfokker jokes!

“Little Fockers” is proof positive of the sequel law of diminishing returns. It might be time for these Fockers to Fock Off.

BARNEY’S VERSION: 3 ½ STARS

Barney’s Version, based on Mordecai Richler’s final novel, gives Paul Giamatti his most memorable part since Sideways. Utterly compelling as the kind of guy who calls his ex-wife’s new husband with the offer of some nude pictures, “so you can see what she looked like in her prime,” he glides—or more rightly put, drunkenly stumbles—through three wives, an accusation of murder and countless cigars toward a battle with Alzheimer's Disease. While the filmmaking occasionally veers into television movie territory Giamatti and cast—Dustin Hoffman, Rosamund Pike and Minnie Driver—are by turns touching, caustic and hilarious but above all, entertaining.

TRON: LEGACY: 3 ½ STARS

“Tron: Legacy” is a 2D script presented with glorious 3D visuals. The long awaited sequel to 1982’s “Tron” with its cheesier-than-a-gruyere-fondue story, so-so acting and dialogue that sounds ripped from a bad 1980’s action movie could have used a gigabyte or two more storyline to go along with the mesmerizing computer generated visuals.

When Sam Flynn’s (Garrett Hedlund) father Kevin (Jeff Bridges), the genius software programmer and former CEO of ENCOM International, disappeared when the boy was just a tot, no one had any idea what happened to him. So twenty years later when a mysterious page comes from Kevin’s old office Sam decides he must investigate. Poking around his dad’s old desk he is suddenly transported to The Grid, a wild digital world fraught with danger. Partnering with Quorra (Olivia Wilde), Sam is reunited with his father but also must battle Clu (played by a digital Jeff Bridges), the bio-digital embodiment of Kevin’s original hacking program.
  
“Tron: Legacy” works more as an experience than it does as a movie. It’s kind of like going to see Laser Floyd. It’s an immersive experience that doesn’t rely on the story to keep you entertained. It’s essentially a sci fi chase movie—Sam chases the memory of his father, then is chased on The Grid before chasing Clu—and because those sequences are so hypnotic and eye popping it makes you forget how silly and exposition heavy the story is. 
 
As the older Kevin Jeff Bridges seems to be channeling “The Big Lebowski’s” Dude more than any traditional sci fi character. As the younger, computer generated version of the actor, Clu, is only about 95% convincing. He’s meant to be a computer program come to life, I get that, but the technology used to bring him to being has the same fault as seen in the Robert Zemeckis films that use “lifelike” computer generated characters: dead eyes and a too-fluid way of walking.
Bridges, Garrett Hedlund and Olivia Wilde aren’t the main attraction, here, and they all seem to know it. Only Michael Sheen as the albino Ziggy Stardust character Zuse tries to upstage the wild graphics, and very nearly succeeds. A flamboyant mix of the MC from “Cabaret” and Kim Jong-il, he delivers the film’s liveliest performance and almost steals the show from The Grid.

I don’t think “Tron: Legacy” is destined to be a classic, but let’s face it, the original isn’t a masterpiece either. It’s little more than a fondly remembered relic from the 80s that seemed ripe for an update. It got it’s update and then some, but let’s hope if they make another one they spend more time to craft an interesting story to go along with the astounding look (and sound, courtesy of soundtrack creators Daft Punk) of the movie. 
 
HOW DO YOU KNOW: 2 ½ STARS

Normally I’m not a stickler for punctuation. I’ve been known to drop a comma or two and throw in an inappropriate semi-colon here and there, but the lack of a question mark at the end of the title “How Do You Know” really bugs me. Does director James L. Brooks not have Spelling and Grammar check on his computer? Was star Reese Witherspoon sick the day they taught question mark use in school? What could possibly be the excuse for such an egregious and flagrant abuse of the English language?

In the film Witherspoon is a aging pro athlete at the end of her career. For twelve years she was the star of the USA Woman’s Softball Team, but when she gets cut she finds herself adrift in life. Caught in a love triangle between two men—Paul Rudd and Owen Wilson—who love her for completely different reasons, she must choose one of them but first has to learn how to know when she’s in love.

Even though I was in a bad mood because of all this question mark business, “How Do You Know” still managed to mostly win me over not because it is great, because it isn’t—it rises to the level of good, but not much further than that—but because of its appealing cast.

Witherspoon has been absent from the big screen for two years—her voice work in “Monsters vs. Aliens” doesn’t count—and in that time many have tried and failed to find the rom com sparkle she so effortlessly brings to this movie.

Rudd, as the slightly awkward suitor being investigated for fraud, brings the funny and the mushy and Owen Wilson’s immature pro-ball player is a very funny throwback to his “Zoolander” days.
 
A big surprise is Kathryn Hahn, as Rudd’s empathic assistant. Best known for roles on television in shows like “Crossing Jordan” and “Hung,” she’s a live wire who brings much to the movie, including its most moving scene. A bigger surprise is Jack Nicholson as Rudd’s devious father. He’s worked with Brooks before, earning two Academy Awards in the process, but here he’s wasted in a role that gives him little to do. For the first time in years Nicholson barely registers on screen.

“How Do You Know” suffers from a weird rhythm, unnecessary minutes in the third act and a major unresolved plot point but is rescued by the enthusiasm of its cast.
 
THE FIGHTER: 3 ½ STARS

“The Fighter,” a new film starring Mark Wahlberg about a real life welterweight named Micky Ward, plays like a mix of “Raging Bull” and “Rocky.” It borrows the tough street grit from the Scorsese classic and mixes in the heart of Stallone’s crowd-pleaser to create a movie that isn’t quite as satisfying as either of its inspirations, but should get some notice at Academy Awards time.

Directed by David O. Russell, “The Fighter,” is based on the true story of boxer, “Irish” Micky Ward (Wahlberg), and his older half-brother Dickie Eklund (Christian Bale). Dickie is a local legend in their rough neighborhood of Lowell, Massachusetts, having once knocked Sugar Ray Leonard to his knees during a high profile boxing match. But now his best days are behind him. Now he’s a crack head, a charming one, but a crack head nonetheless, who allows his addiction to get in the way of Micky’s training. To advance his career Micky must make some tough decisions; more brutal than anything he’s ever had to do in the ring. He must choose between his family and his career.   

Wahlberg is at the heart of “The Fighter” and hands in a convincing performance, but it is Bale, in the showier role of the tormented and addicted Dickie who steals the movie. Pulling another of his amazing physical transformations—it can’t healthy to lose this much weight, but it is effective in the movie—he’s almost unrecognizable as the skeletal ex-boxer. It’s the first time in some while we’ve seen Bale really get under the skin of a character in a drama—forgive me, but the “Batman” and “Terminator” movies are more about the effects than nuance—that it is a treat to be reminded of how good and risk-taking an actor he really is.

The fight scenes in “The Fighter” are good, and the characters are compelling—Melissa Leo as the controlling mom is great and where did they find the seven harridans who play the sisters?—but the form is a bit too traditional to be really grabby. The underdog sports movie has been done to death and despite adding in a twist or two, like a crack head brother with a god complex, the movie pulls too many punches to be truly memorable.

RABBIT HOLE: 4 STARS

“Rabbit Hole,” the new film starring Nicole Kidman, Aaron Eckhart and Dianne Wiest, is about what happens when the natural order of things is disrupted. Just as summer always follows spring and two plus two always equals four, some things are immutable. The sad premise that lies at the base of “Rabbit Hole,” however, is a natural law that unfortunately isn’t as absolute as the others. What happens to parents when they outlive their children?

Howie and Becca (Eckhart and Kidman) are a couple trying to deal with the death of their four-year-old son Danny. They are at different stages of their grief, but they share a couple of things; a terrible sense of loss and an inability to know how to deal with it. On the surface he wants to move on but at night secretly watches videos of the toddler. She is angry at the world, a bubbling cauldron of resentment and hurt that could boil over at any time. Healing comes slowly, and from some unexpected sources, leading up to a climax that is quiet and inconclusive yet starkly effective.

“Rabbit Hole” is the kind of film Nicole Kidman needs to make to remind us why we liked her in the first place. After nondescript performances in big budget stiffs like “Bewitched” and “The Golden Compass” it is a relief to see her sink her teeth into the role of the devastated mother. She avoids the clichés and melodrama a lesser actor might have brought to the role and delivers a masterfully subtle examination of grief and loss. The iciness that sometimes creeps into her work melts away here as she reveals her vulnerabilities.

Kidman leads the cast but fine performances abound. Eckhart connects (and disconnects when appropriate) with Kidman while Wiest hands in a beautifully modulated performance as a woman who has known much sadness in her life but has moved on. Each character in the film is flawed, yet in their own way sympathetic.

Up until this point director John Cameron Mitchell—of “Hedwig and the Angry Inch” and “Shortbus” fame—hasn’t been known for his restraint, but with “Rabbit Hole” he takes a melodramatic premise and reins it in until all that’s left is real human emotion. Highly recommended.

YOGI BEAR: 3 STARS

Yogi Bear, the brown bear with a huge appetite for pic-a-nic baskets, has been in hibernation on the big screen for almost half a century. The last time the “smarter than the average bear” and his sidekick Boo-Boo played in movie theatres Lyndon D. Johnson was president and The Kinks were about to release their debut album. The intervening years have been kind to the big brown bear, who is up to his old tricks in a new self titled film starring (the voices) Dan Aykroyd and Justin Timberlake.
 
Set, as all great Yogi Bear stories are, in Jellystone Park, the beginning of “Yogi Bear” finds the park teetering on the edge of bankruptcy. Attendance is down—mostly because of Yogi’s habit of stealing food from any guests silly enough to try and pic-a-nic at the park—and if Ranger Smith (Tom Cavanagh) can’t figure out a way to raise $30,000 the corrupt mayor of the town (played to smarmy perfection by Andrew Daly) will rezone the land and sell it off to loggers. When Ranger Smith gets reassigned to another posting Yogi must use his smarts to help save the park and his home.
 
“Yogi Bear”—both the film and the character—is hard to dislike. At an economical 75 minutes the film’s goofy slapstick doesn’t overstay its welcome and will even provide a nostalgic kick for anyone old enough to remember the original cartoon series. The big bumbling bear is a classic character—apparently based on another classic character, Art Carney's Ed Norton from “The Honeymooners”—and the movie does him justice. They don’t try and reinvent the wheel here, this is a very simple kid’s flick that stays true to the spirit of the Hanna-Barbera cartoons.

The audience of kids I saw the movie with weren’t howling with laughter, but they were engaged with the characters. Aykroyd and Timberlake take pains to do actual character voices, unlike most celebrity voice work which just plays off of the actor’s already established persona, they do bang on impressions of Yogi and Boo-Boo.
“Yogi Bear” is a movie for the whole family but will appeal most to very young kids. It has gentle humor and action, larger than life characters and good messages about loyalty, perseverance and (of course) saving the environment. It may not be smarter than your average kid’s flick but for what it is, it’s enjoyable.

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.”  

THE KING’S SPEECH: 4 STARS

If you think a movie about a soon-to-be-monarch trying to overcome a debilitating speech impediment sounds dull, think again. Imagine a royal “Pygmalion” brimming with wit, pain and perseverance. It’s a moving and even occasionally exciting story that climaxes not on a battlefield or boardroom but with two men, one microphone and an historical speech.

Colin Firth plays the man who would be king, the Duke of York who later became King George VI when his brother Edward (Guy Pearce) abdicated the throne in 1936 and ran off with the twice divorced Wallis Simpson. A chronic stutterer he tried every cure going, including smoking, which was thought to “calm the nerves and relax the larynx,” and trying to speak with a mouthful of marbles. He has no success until he meets Lionel Logue (Geoffrey Rush), an Australian voice coach with some unorthodox methods to help untie Albert’s tongue. Befriending the royal, he delved deep, looking for the cause of the vocal tics rather than simply working on the mechanics of uninterrupted speech. Slowly the stiff-upper-lipped Albert opens up, and with the support of his wife (Helena Bonham Carter) and his tutor / confessor, he confronts the psychological roots of his problem.

Since debuting at the Toronto International Film Festival in September there has been heavy Oscar buzz surrounding “The King’s Speech” but I think the pundits are getting it wrong. Colin Firth has been touted as a front runner in the Best Actor category, and he certainly has the film’s showiest role, but for me, the most effortless performance comes from Geoffrey Rush who brings a warm naturalism to his role.

Either way, the movie is anchored by two terrific performances and is most effective in its quiet moments—the look on Firth’s face when his daughters stop calling him father and begin calling him Your Majesty, the film’s climatic speech and Albert’s heartfelt acknowledgement that Lionel, a commoner, is his best friend. Those underplayed moments are really were the gold is.

“The King’s Speech” is, of course, about more than a speech impediment. It’s about someone who didn’t want to be king reluctantly accepting his duty, and not only finding his voice, but also giving a voice to England during the Second World War.

THE TOURIST: 2 ½ STARS

“The Tourist” is a movie that asks the question, Would one kiss from Angelina Jolie be worth risking your life for? Many would think yes, including Johnny Depp who plays the hapless eponymous character in this new thriller from Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck, the director of the Oscar winning “The Lives of Others.”

In this twisty-turny thriller Johnny Depp plays Frank, an American math teacher on a train to Venice who gets caught up in some international intrigue involving a missing banker, Scotland Yard and some murderous Russians when Angelina Jolie sets him up as a decoy to throw the police off the whereabouts of her fugitive boyfriend.

“The Tourist”—a remake of the 2005 French film “Anthony Zimmer”— plays like “Strangers on a Train” meets “True Lies” with a hint of “CSI: Italy” mixed in for good measure. It doesn’t pack the kind of movie star magic promised by the pairing of Depp and Jolie—he’s too passive for most of the film for sparks to really fly—and the storyline feels like a “Matt Helm” movie idea reject, but taken for what it is, a stylishly forgettable Euro romp, it’s a bit of fun.

Despite Depp’s presence Jolie is the star of the film. The camera fawns over her, luxuriating in her every seductive blink, curve and hair flick. Depp falls for her, as does everyone else, including the police who have her under surveillance who debate whether she is wearing underwear or not. Take her out of the equation and there’d be a whole lot less reason to watch the movie.

BLACK SWAN: 4 ½ STARS

"Black Swan" is the sort of psychological thriller that doesn't get made anymore. In a time when most filmmakers are playing it safe, pumping out movies that try to appeal to every single member of the ticket buying audience, Darren Aronofsky has followed up the Oscar nominated success of "The Wrestler" with the kind of emotional noir film that Brian DePalma and Roman Polanski excelled in 30 years ago.

Natalie Portman plays Nina, a "beautiful, fearful and fragile" ballerina who dreams of dancing the lead in "Swan Lake." When she gets the chance the duality of that role -- she'll play both the pure Swan Queen and the sensual Black Swan -- begins to bleed into her real life. Consequently it pushes her already brittle psyche to the limit.

As the pressure on Nina builds, so does the paranoia and Aronofsky subtly (and not-so-subtly) drops clues that Nina's world is two parts perception and only one part reality. Slowly the psychological and body horror builds toward an operatic climax that redefines over-the-top.

I've kept the synopsis purposely thin. This is a thriller and as such much of the pleasure of the film will come from learning the details of the story when Aronofsky wants you to. I can tell you Nina is pushed and pulled by an overprotective stage mother (Barbara Hershey), a faded prima donna (Wynona Ryder), a demanding director (Vincent Cassel) and a neophyte dancer named Lily (Mila Kunis). Beyond that, you'll get no spoilers here.

"Black Swan" benefits greatly from frenetic but beautiful camerawork that is as wonderfully choreographed as any of the dance sequences and the performance of Natalie Portman.

Aronofsky has pulled good performances from everyone -- Kunis's earthiness is a nice counterbalance to Portman's otherworldliness -- but he has pushed Portman to places we've never seen her in before. She's in virtually every scene of the film, and even during the dance scenes, just when you think she isn't doing her own pirouettes -- when the camera cuts from her face to her feet, or when we see her dancing out-of-focus in a mirror -- Aronofsky then pans up, or snaps into focus, showing us the dancing is not a cheat.

Neither is the performance. She has physically transformed herself into a twirling 95-pound bun head. But beyond the waifish appearance she throws herself into the emotionally complex role. Echoing Catherine Deneuve in "Repulsion" her grip on reality slowly disintegrates until there is nothing left to hold on to. It is riveting and brave work that sets a new benchmark in her career.

It's easier to end by summing up what "Black Swan" isn't. It isn't understated, it isn't strictly a horror film, nor is it just a ballet film. It is a wild, primal melodrama that resonates because of the fearless and unapologetically strange work of its star and director.

BURLESQUE: 2 ½ GLITTERY STARS

On a scale of 1 to Ridiculous, “Burlesque,” the new film starring dueling pop divas Cher and Christina Aguilera, it’s Rip Taylor.  A glittery mix of “All About Eve,” “Striptease” and “42nd Street” it is for people who didn’t find “Priscilla Queen of the Desert” campy enough.

Xtina plays Allie, a small girl with a giant voice who leaves her Podunk Iowa town to find fame and fortune in Los Angeles. Then, in an explosion of glitter and cone bras, she lands a job as a waitress at Burlesque, a place with no windows, but the “Best View on the Sunset Strip.” It’s an old school burlesque house, seemingly inhabited by the spirit of Bob Fosse, on the verge of bankruptcy, currently being run into the ground by Tess (Cher) and Sean (Stanley Tucci). Christina, and her highly articulated vocalizing come along just in time to save the club, romance a handsome bartender (Cam Gigandet) and a multimillionaire (Eric Dane) and alienate the club’s reigning diva.

“Burlesque,” is essentially a vehicle for Christina’s vocal acrobatics. It hangs a recycled show biz story—girl from the sticks becomes a star in Los Angeles—on the elastic voice talents of its star. Less than five minutes into the story she’s on a stage bellowing a multi-octave cover of the Etta James classic “Something’s Got a Hold on Me.” If that sends a shiver down your spine, then “Burlesque” is for you. If not, it’s going to be a long two hours.

Only Cher and Stanley Tucci seem to understand what kind of movie this is. Only Cher could intone a line about helping a dancer when she was drunk and sick, throwing up “everything but your memories,” and walk away with her career intact. Ditto Tucci. He’s slumming here, but he sparks with Cher and seems to be having fun.

Which brings us to Aguilera. She can gyrate like nobody’s business and looks fetching in a sparkly bowler hat, but as energetic as the performance is it never rises above the level of a gifted amateur.    

“Burlesque” isn’t trashy enough—remember “Showgirls”?—to be truly memorable. It has no story arc, no dramatic tension, just a lot of bump-and-grind. That’ll be enough for people with a taste for camp but like the art form it is named after the movie is all tease and no follow through.

LOVE AND OTHER DRUGS: 3 ½ STARS

“Love and Other Drugs,” the new film starring Oscar nominees Anne Hathaway and Jake Gyllenhal, isn’t your standard rom com. Call it a drom com, or a romantic dramedy, but it isn’t afraid to try and wring a tear or two from you while slathering on the romance.

Gyllenhal is Jamie, a good looking med school drop-out who finds his calling selling pharmaceuticals. Until meeting Maggie (Hathaway), a beautiful and talented but troubled woman, he slid through life based solely on charm and his ability to get people to do anything he wants them to do. He falls in love with her but [SPOILER] because she has early onset Parkinson's Disease she refuses to let Jamie get too close, preferring to keep their relationship purely physical. As her sickness progresses they both find themselves with some very serious decisions to make. [END OF SPOILERS]

Based on Jamie Reidy's memoir “Hard Sell: The Evolution of a Viagra Salesman,” the movie is a mix of broad comedy (which doesn’t always work so well) and heartfelt romance (which does). Gyllenhal and Hathaway sell the romance, their huge eyes—both these actors have soulful eyes bigger than on any sad-eyed clown painting—and make a convincing couple. The plot takes its lead from the standard rom com set-up but liberally mixes in sex, nudity (yes, movie lovers the two comely leads spend a great deal of time topless and bottomless!) and more genuine feeling than any ten Katherine Heigl movies.

It’s not a seamless mingling of serious romance and comedy however. Other than Maggie Jamie shares his screen time with two sidekicks, and that, frankly is one too many. Oliver Platt, as his sales mentor is a riot and underused. Josh Gad, as Jamie’s porn addicted brother, the role Jack Black would have played ten years ago and Jonah Hill probably auditioned for this year, is funny-ish but wears out his welcome early on. And please Mr. Gyllenhal never do “painful erection” jokes ever again in your career.

“Love and Other Drugs” could have deepened the script by increasing the time it gives to the evils of the pharmaceutical business but instead avoids the disease-of-the-week clichés and puts the focus where it belongs, on two very likeable and watchable stars doing some very good work.

TANGLED: 3 STARS / FOR THE ANIMATION: 4 ½ STARS

“Tangled,” Disney’s fiftieth animated feature, is a mix of Grimm’s Fairy Tales and Broadway show tunes. A retelling of “Rapunzel” featuring beautiful computer animation, a Disney princess and some show stopping tunes isn’t as masterful as last year’s “Princess and the Frog,” but will make your eyeballs dance with its beautiful artwork.

The story begins with the kidnapping of Princess Rapunzel, a magical child whose glowing hair has the ability to restore youth. Nabbed by Mother Gothel, an old crone desperate to regain and maintain her youth, she is locked away in a tower completely shut off from the outside world. Her only knowledge of the world comes from through a tiny window, where, once a year, on her birthday, she sees a beautiful festival of floating lights from the nearby kingdom. On her eighteenth birthday she asks to leave the tower and see the lights up close. Of course her “mother” refuses but she gets her chance when a thief named Flynn Rider breaks into her tower looking for a hideout after stealing the crown jewels. At first he literally wants to get out of her hair, but soon, of course, romance blooms.

The first thing you’ll notice about “Tangled” is the beautiful animation. The characters are still of that big-eyed Disney variety but the attention to detail is incredible. Rapunzel’s long locks look amazing. CG hair is notoriously difficult to get right but here the animators have created the best looking hair since Vidal Sassoon retired, complete with split ends and fly-aways. Ditto for the water. Again, animators have had a hard time recreating water with CG but here, in one sequence on a lake, the incredible recreated water almost steals the whole scene.   

The rest of the film has all the usual Disney trademarks, humor, romance, a cute animal sidekick and a great Cruella DeVill-ainess but for me, the movie falls down in the music department. With the exception of two numbers Mama Knows Best and the Dreamer’s Song—sung by a roomful of thugs and containing lines like “though I like breaking femurs, you can count me as a dreamer”—both of which are pure Broadway showstoppers, but the songs sung by the Princess have a generic feel to them.

On the plus side the movie is filled with wonderful set pieces and at least one character who could be spun off to his own movie. Even though he doesn’t have a single line Maximus the palace horse is one of Disney’s best creations in years. His exaggerated facial expressions seem to be borrowed from a Looney Tunes cartoon but a showdown between the horse and Ryder is pure Disney and purely delightful.

“Tangled” isn’t destined to become a Disney classic but is a great diversion for the whole family this year.

FASTER: 2 STARS

The dialogue, the car chases, even the music in “Faster,” the violent new revenge flick starring Dwayne Johnson, is as pumped up as the former wrestler’s bicep and tricep muscles. It’s just too bad he doesn’t get to flex his acting muscles as much as his aforementioned arm muscles.

Johnson plays an ex-con bent on getting revenge on the people who set-up and murdered his brother following a daring bank robbery. On his tail, as he one-by-one dispatches his enemies, are two very determined cops (Billy Bob Thornton and Carla Gugino) and an eccentric assassin (Oliver Jackson-Cohen).

I’ve deliberately kept the synopsis of “Faster” brief and to-the-point because it doesn’t really hold up to a great deal of scrutiny. That’s OK, revenge movie fans aren’t going to see this movie for the plot, they’re going to see the chases, the kills and the action, and while all those elements are in place there is something not very satisfying about the movie.

The first thing that doesn’t seem right is that Johnson’s character could walk around, out in the open, blowing people away. He’s six-foot-a-hundred, heavily tattooed, looks a lot like a wrestler named The Rock and yet seems to be invisible to the police as he careens around Southern California gun in hand. I know it’s a movie, but things still have to make some sort of sense.

He’s no ninja, that’s for sure but he is an imposing presence. After trying comedy and kids movies Johnson has settled back in comfortably where he belongs, in action roles. Here he plays a stoic loner—he has so few lines he makes Marcel Marceau look like a chatterbox—who doesn’t have much to do except growl, grunt and glare, although in one scene he sheds a tear. It’s a basic performance that doesn’t require him to do anything he hasn’t done in the ring. Perhaps this is what people expect of him but it’s disappointing because after seeing his good work in other movies there seems to be a distinct lack of nuance here.

There’s also not a lot of nuance in the way he kills his victims. Revenge movies are all about the set-up and the satisfying release of seeing the bad guys get what they’ve got coming, but like Johnson’s performance, the kills are basic. In “Kill Bill” Tarantino made each and every assassination unique. Here director George Tillman Jr. usually just has Johnson point and pull the trigger. Like I said. Basic.

“Faster” is stylish and atmospheric, and even has a tense climax, but I’d take a little less muscle flexing and a bit more acting flexing.

HARRY POTTER AND THE DEATHLY HALLOWS PART ONE: 2 STARS

The opening line of “Harry Potter 7.5,” the second to last in the series, is “These are dark times we are living in.” Intoned with great gravitas by the Minister of Magic (Bill Nighy) it foreshadows the tone of the movie which includes a people eating snake, Ron going all “Death Wish” on some bad guys and the slithery presence of the one whose name we dare not speak.

This time out Harry (Daniel Radcliffe), Hermione (Emma Watson) and Ron (Rupert Grint), the ginger haired point of the Potter trident, continue their battle with Lord Voldemort (Ralph Fiennes) and his evil band of minions, snatchers and Death Eaters. They must locate and destroy the Horcruxes which contains a fragment of a wizard's soul, battle the fascistic Ministry of Magic and confirm the existence of the three most powerful artifacts of the wizarding world: the Deathly Hallows.

Like all the Potter movies, this one will appeal to the fans of the books but likely leave anyone who hasn’t read the books as unsatisfied as a Dementor in a soul to suck. If you haven’t been keeping up with the exploits of the boy wizard do yourself a favour and google “Horcrux” and “mudblood” before laying down your twelve bucks. Otherwise get ready for a head scratching experience. The movies are good linear adaptations of JK Rowling’s books, and are filled with moments that will resonate with Potter fans but they do not cater to non-Potterheads.

Like the other movies this one is a big handsome beast, almost 2 ½ hours long, with high production value—it echoes everything from Charles Dickens to Triumph of the Will to the Wizard of Oz—and good performances from every English actor currently employed by British Actors' Equity. But as nice as the movies look—this one has a spectacular animated sequence telling the story of the Deathly Hallows—and as well intentioned as they are, they are a closed club, really for fans only. That’s OK, because there are millions of fans out there, but they leave me a little cold.

I get the appeal of the films. They’re a clever mix of the worldly—friendship, intrigue, good vs. evil—and the otherworldly—everything else—with some action and amiable characters thrown in, but for me the Potter magic wore off some time ago.

THE NEXT THREE DAYS: 2 STARS

Recently in “Conviction” Hillary Swank played a woman who studied for eighteen years to become a lawyer to prove the innocence of someone she loved and earn his release from prison. In “The Next Three Days,” the new film from writer / director Paul Haggis, Russell Crowe takes a different, more impatient approach.

Three years ago Laura and John Brennan (Elizabeth Banks and Russell Crowe) were a happily married couple with an adorable child (Ty Simpkins) and a perfect, up-scale suburban life. That was before Laura was accused and convicted of murder. With his wife jailed for life John sets about playing by the rules, exhausting appeal after appeal. When all his legal avenues are shut down he turns to an illegal one, and plans an elaborate jail break.

The key to the success of “The Next Three Days” is getting the audience to believe that teacher John Brennen can turn from leather elbowed English professor to John Dillinger virtually overnight. Haggis has cast well in this regard. Russell Crowe can convincingly cry and kick ass in equal measures, but desperate though John’s situation may be it never comes across that he could put this very elaborate plan into motion. Experienced crime genius Lex Luthor would have trouble pulling this off, let alone someone whose last gig was teaching Don Quixote’s “triumph of irrationality” to community school students.

We see him planning the break, staring at maps, pinning photographs to a wall and cruising the net—apparently everything you need to know about breaking someone out of a high security prison is available on google—but are given very little in the way of the details as to how he is actually going to make it work. Planning a prison break is a complicated business but we never really get a sense of that. When he finally puts his farfetched plan into motion we are left wondering, How exactly did he know how to do all this stuff?

The movie certainly takes its time getting to the breakout—at 2 hours and 15 minutes it overstays its welcome by at least half-an-hour—but ultimately delivers only the kind of unbelievable and over-the-top of action that only happens in movies. By the time Crowe’s car is careening around the highway all emotional connection—not there ever was much to begin with—is gone and we’re simply watching acrobatics instead of people we care about. 

Perhaps Haggis took his time getting to the end because in reality there is no satisfying way to end to this story. [NO SPOILERS AHEAD!] He kind of writes himself into a corner. If they get away it condones the crime of breaking a convicted criminal out of jail. If they don’t it’s unsatisfying for the audience and is they get killed in a hail of bullets it leaves a little boy an orphan. It’s all kind of no win, for Haggis and, I’m afraid, for the audience as well.  

MORNING GLORY: 3 STARS

In “Morning Glory” Canadian Sweetheart Rachel McAdams plays an eternally optimistic television producer. That’s how we know this is a work of fantasy. Like unicorns or a good Matthew Lillard movie, there’s no such thing an eternally optimistic television producer. She may be completely fictitious but she’s also perky, precocious and fighting for the survival of her morning television show.

After being fired from the producer’s chair of “Good Morning New Jersey,” Becky (McAdams) moves up to the big leagues, executive producing a network morning show in New York City. The trouble is the network is IBS—it can’t be a co-incidence that their name is an acronym for Irritable Bowel Syndrome because their ratings are in the toilet—and the show is Daybreak, a telecast so lowly rated one observer says “half the audience has lost their remotes and the other half are waiting for their nurse to turn them over.” It’s her job to whip the show into shape, despite the protests of its two high maintenance hosts, former Miss Arizona Colleen Peck (Diane Keaton) and the “third worst person in the world,” Mike Pomeroy (Harrison Ford).

“Morning Glory” is a screwball romantic comedy that has a sit com-ish edge, but is rescued by the charm of its leads. It’s a pleasure to see Harrison Ford grumping it up in his first all out comedic role in some time (that is, if you don’t count the ill-advised Indiana Jones reboot) and Diane Keaton has some good bitchy fun here but it is McAdams who really saves the day.   

Her effervescent screen presence keeps us interested even when the script is content to rely on predictable, feel-good story turns. “Morning Glory” often feels like a collection of good ideas that don’t quite hang together. The Patrick Wilson love interest angle feels tagged on and near the end the movie becomes a series of montages as various story threads are a little too conveniently wrapped up, but through it all McAdams shines.

There are echoes of “Broadcast News” throughout. That movie played up the romance a bit more than “Morning Glory” does and twenty-three years ago when the Albert Brooks comedy first addressed the trend of the show business-ification of hard news to pander to ratings the hard news side won. This time around Mike Pomeroy, a seasoned journalist with impeccable credentials, is told by the upstart Becky, “Your side lost” and asked to bring along a camera to his prostate exam. “Broadcast News” had interesting things to say about television and how TV is changing. “Morning Glory” doesn’t have that same kind of insight but it does have Rachel McAdams, which for this lightweight comedy, is enough.

UNSTOPPABLE: 3 STARS

“Unstoppable,” the new true-life drama from Denzel Washington and “Star Trek” star Chris Pine is a heavy metal movie. It’s a story about 10,000,000 pounds of screeching, screaming metal careening out of control through the Pennsylvania countryside. No, it’s not the Mötley Crüe northeastern reunion tour, it’s about a runaway train and two brave men who bring the beast to a stop.

Story wise “Unstoppable” is pretty high concept. Due to human error (or perhaps just plain laziness) an unmanned half-a-mile long string of trains loaded with hazardous materials is let loose, barreling along the main rail track toward Stanton, Pennsylvania. It is, essentially, a missile the size of the Chrysler Building. Along the way it plays chicken with a trainload of kids and Denzel. Can they stop it before it causes a huge environmental catastrophe? Only Denzel knows… and he’s only half-way sure.

It doesn’t take long to identify “Unstoppable” as a Tony Scott movie. There’s his favorite star, Denzel, endlessly swirling cameras and about 75 edits per minute.

With the exception of Denzel, his trademarks have occasionally overwhelmed his movies. His high sense of style has frequently come before good old solid storytelling but with “Unstoppable” there isn’t much story to overpower so his wild flourishes really carry the day. The giant set pieces involving the train and the various attempts to stop it are exciting, edge-of-your-seat sequences. Add in Denzel playing a riff on his now patented old pro on the job / hero role (the one he’s been perfecting in movies like “Inside Man” and “The Taking of Pelham 1,2,3) and some good charismatic work from Chris Pine and you have a fun Saturday afternoon matinee movie.    

127 HOURS: 4 STARS

Wikipedia defines survival as “the struggle to remain alive and living.” Next to that definition should be a picture of Aron Ralston, the poster boy for survival at any cost. His name may not ring a bell but his remarkable story of how he literally found himself between a rock and a hard place will make you wonder how far you would go to stay alive. You see, Ralston is the American mountain climber who was trapped by a boulder for five days in May 2003 and was only able to free himself by amputating his own arm. His story is told in unflinching detail in 127 Hours, starring James Franco, a film is so intense some audience members have suffered panic attacks and lightheadedness.

That reaction is the result of careful direction by Danny Boyle. Because we essentially know how the story is going to end Boyle keeps us along for the ride by building up tension slowly as he moves toward the movie’s Big Scene ®. It’s not always a pleasant experience, but it is rather masterful filmmaking. When he does get to the amputation scene (admit it, you’re curious) he creates a movie topping sequence (it starts to get grim at about the hour-and-fifteen minute mark) with visuals that leave something to your imagination and a jarring electronic soundtrack that is less grueling but more effective than any cutting scene from the “Saw” series. It may not show everything, but trust me, it’ll be a long time before you order a rare steak or beef tartar in a restaurant again.  

Boyle fleshes out the bare bones of the story, adding in heartbreaking hallucinations of survival and a montage of soda commercials that illustrates what happens when thirst goes beyond the physical to become a mental thing.

It’s all tied together by Boyle’s visual sense. He uses a variety of shooting styles to really give us the idea of why Aron loves this terrain and how dangerous and extreme it can be. It gives us a feeling for both the isolated vastness and beauty of Aron’s surroundings.

At the heart of it all is James Franco as Aron. Like Ryan Reynolds in “Buried” this is a performance that isn’t limited by its physical circumstances. Reynolds spent ninety minutes in a box and gave the performance of his career while Franco, trapped by a boulder, alone in a tight uncomfortable space does some seriously good work. His choices of roles have been esoteric of late—playing Allen Ginsberg in “Howl” for instance—but in “127 Hours” he has found the part that should earn him some well deserved recognition from the Academy.

“127 Hours” isn’t an easy movie. When Aron tells himself “don’t pass out” during the amputation scene he could well be talking to the audience as well. Imagine the most uncomfortable you’ve ever been. Now multiply that by a thousand. No wait, a million. That’s the experience Boyle and Franco are offering up, a grueling but worthwhile story of survival against all odds.

MONSTERS: 3 ½ STARS

Big monsters are back. Movies like “The Host” and “Cloverfield” have reintroduced audiences to that rarest, but biggest of beasts, the giant out-of-control monster. Who needs vampires and zombies when you could have a ninety foot tall squid with a bad attitude and a Christmas bulb for a head? 

The latest addition to the big monster genre is “Monsters,” an indie movie that reportedly only cost $15,000. Part road trip, part romance and all atmosphere, the story of Andrew (Scoot McNairy), an opportunistic photojournalist, who must escort his boss’s daughter, Sam (Whitney Able), back to the U.S. border through the treacherous quarantine area inhabited by… you guessed it, giant creatures left there when a NASA space craft carrying samples of extraterrestrial life crashed.

It’s a pure b-movie premise and for the first fifteen minutes or so promises to be little more than a Roger Corman film with better CGI. Then something happens. The movie becomes about the relationship between total opposites Andrew and Sam as they bond over their trip’s hardships and the strangeness of their surroundings. It’s a giant monster movie that focuses on the characters and despite some wild plot contrivances, it works.

The character study is a slow burn that leads up to the big reveal, the unveiling of the creatures. For most of the film they are seen and not heard but director Gareth Edwards paces the film carefully building up suspense through use of sound effects to climax with a wild mating dance between two of the Lovecraftian beasts. It’s a strangely beautiful and eerie sequence that brings the movie to a close.

“Monsters” isn’t as effective as “District 9” or “Cloverfield,” two other recent movies that introduced us to new creatures, but it is a complex film with timely messages about immigration (the US is protected by a giant fence to keep the monsters out) and our reactions in times of danger.

MEGAMIND: 3 STARS

“Megamind,” the new animated kid’s flick starring Will Ferrell and Tiny Fey, ponders an age old question, asked by super villains from Lex Luthor to Doctor Doom: What’s the point of being evil is there’s no one there to stop you?

Self described super genius and master of all villainy Megamind (voice of Will Ferrell) has had a lifelong rivalry with Metro Man (Brad Pitt), a hero so special he can literally walk on water. Megamind has been trying to wrestle control of Mega City from Metro Man for years, and despite his best efforts cannot defeat the ridiculously square-jawed hero. That is, until the day he breaks out of jail, kidnaps intrepid girl reporter Roxanne Ritchi (Tina Fey) and finally outsmarts his nemesis. Metro City is finally his but now that his lifelong dream has come true he finds when there is no good guy, no yin to his yang, his evil existence is an empty experience. To combat his boredom he decides to create a superhero to spice things up... of course nothing could go wrong with that plan.

“Megamind” plays like the evil stepchild of “The Incredibles” and “Monsters vs Aliens” with some pop culture references thrown in—like a takeoff on the famous balcony scene from “Superman” and a wild spoof of Jor-El’s windswept hair. It’s a pleasant enough confection, with some genuine laughs sprinkled throughout, but given the talent involved—Ferrell, Fey and David Cross—it should be much funnier.

David Cross and Ferrell make the most out of their characters. Ferrell gives Megamind fun vocal tics—he pronounces Metro City as one long word, Metrossoity—but Fey, in the Lois Lane role, and Jonah Hill as the newly minted superhero, hand in the bland voice work that doesn’t add much to the movie. It’s a shame, spunkier voice work would have wrung a few more laughs out of a script that is more a funny idea than actually funny all the way through.

Little kids probably won’t get—or care about—the “Superman” references or Megamind’s secret taste for Minnie Riperton’s “Lovin’ You,” but they will enjoy the larger than life characters, the 3D slapstick and even take away the message that there is good inside of almost everyone.

DUE DATE: 3 STARS

If the new Zach Galifianakis / Robert Downey Jr. comedy was a mathematical equation it might look something like this: “Trains, Planes and Automobiles” x “The Hangover” ^4√( “The Odd Couple” + “Thelma and Louise”) = “Due Date.” In other words it’s a gross out road trip story (masturbating dogs!) about two mismatched people with a bit of action.

Downey and Galifianakis are Peter and Ethan, the odd couple who, through circumstance, find themselves placed on a no fly list after an incident at the Atlanta airport. To make matters worse, Peter needs to be in LA in three days to attend the birth of his first child and Ethan, a wannabe actor has a meeting with an agent. Peter reluctantly agrees to share a ride with Ethan and by the time they arrive in Los Angeles they have been arrested, drank coffee made of human ashes and come close to dying.

“Due Date” is the kind of movie where you lean over to the person next to you and VERY quietly whisper, “That was funny,” more often than you will actually laugh out loud. The movie is amusing, often gross and rather dark, but it doesn’t have the deep belly laughs of Galifianakis and director Todd Phillips’s last film “The Hangover.” Its ninety minutes of strange non sequitors, socially awkward behavior and bickering. In other words it’s a lot like a 2010 version of “Planes, Trains and Automobiles,” but we live in a more cynical and mean spirited time and the movie reflects that.  

“Due Date” is missing the one element that made “Planes, Trains and Automobiles” so appealing and that’s sweetness. John Candy’s character—reflected here through a fun house mirror by Galifianakis—was annoying as all get out but underneath the annoying questions, bumbling and boorish behavior was an undeniable sweetness which Phillips has surgically removed from almost every scene of “Due Date.” The characters have an edgy kind of chemistry, but charming they are not.

Ethan is a borderline head case and Peter has rage issues. That’s a combo that’s been played for laughs since the days of the Three Stooges and Laurel and Hardy but the thing that’s missing is amiability.

Not that “Due Date” isn’t funny. It is, it just isn’t very likeable.

FAIR GAME: 2 ½ STARS

“Fair Game” could be re-titled “One Hundred Minutes of Sean Penn Yelling ‘If We Don’t Tell the Truth No One Will!’” The retelling of the ripped-from-the-headlines tale of Valerie Plame (Naomi Watts), whose job as an undercover CIA agent was exposed by White House officials in an attempt to discredit her husband Joseph Wilson’s (Penn)  claim that the Bush administration had falsified information about the existence of weapons of mass destruction in Iraq, is a different kind of spy story. There are no guns, no gadgets, just words—many of the yelled by Penn—classified documents and furtive meetings on lonely park benches. It does a nice job of recreating Bush era paranoia—“We don’t want this smoking gun to turn into a mushroom cloud!”—and exploring the chasm between truth and policy, but as a drama takes way too long to get to the meat of the story. Three quarters of the movie whips past before the central event, Plame’s unceremonious unveiling as a spy, happens.

The build-up is filled with nice details, like Scooter Libby’s (David Andrews) self satisfied smirk when he puts the plan to get revenge on Plame and her husband in motion, and the insight into the life of a spy who juggles a home life with international intrigue, but it feels padded. Also, director Doug Liman has made some very strange and almost unwatchable choices in regard to the camera work. His camera is a little too restless, constantly roaming, which, I suppose, is meant to give us a “you-are-there” feeling, but instead induces motion sickness, particularly in the boardroom scenes.      

Performance wise, however, the movie is top notch. Watt works as Plame, and Penn is passionate, crafting an a performance so big it has it's own gravitational pull that asks whether Wilson was really a truth seeker or simply a self aggrandizing opportunist.

“Fair Game” is a mostly interesting look at our recent past, too bad director Liman takes too long to develop the important part of the story.

FOR COLORED GIRLS: 2 STARS

Tyler Perry is a wildly successful actor, director, producer and all round mogul whose movies make oodles of money but so far have received very little love from the award gods. His latest film, “For Colored Girls”—an adaptation of the Tony Award nominated Broadway play “For Colored Girls Who Have Considered Suicide When the Rainbow Is Enuf”—is his most ambitious film to date but will it be enough to elevate Perry from the ranks of money maker to award winner?

Directing a sprawling ensemble cast Perry (who adapted Ntozake Shange's original script) weaves together the stories of eight African-American women as they deal with personal issues like the search for love, rape, emotional abandonment, infidelity, sexual repression and abortion. Perry retains the play’s poetic approach, mixing naturalistic dialogue and stark real-life drama with free, impressionistic verse.

“For Colored Girls” is Perry’s most accomplished and ambitious movie to date. It’s risky material, from the dire situations most of these women find themselves in (may I suggest group therapy for the cast?) to the style of language, which is likely to confound and confuse many viewers, and while he has stayed true to the tone of the play, I couldn’t help but think that this type of material would work better on stage. Much of the poetic language is beautiful or evocative—a car is described as “smelling of alcohol and ladies in heat”—but despite good performances from the cast the writing often seems too delicate to be blown up for the big screen.   

Couple that with Perry’s melodramatic touch and “For Colored Girls” loses much of its importance of message to overwrought scenes and clichés. The play was a series of monologues and the movie does not improve on the form by intertwining them or creating worlds for the characters to exist in. The choppy segues from character to character feel contrived and as a result, so do the situations that frame the monologues. Individually the stories may have power but as hard as it may be to believe after a while the viewer gets immune to the endless and continuous misery inflicted on these characters.

“For Colored Girls” earns points for ambition and good performances from the cast, particularly Thandie Newton as a troubled sex addict,  Macy Gray as the movie’s Acid Queen and Phylicia Rashad as the wise Gilda, but as bold a step as this may be in Perry’s career it isn’t nuanced or interesting enough to gather much steam come awards time.

INSIDE JOB: 4 STARS

Just in time for Halloween comes the scariest movie of the year. The bad guy in “Inside Job” isn’t Freddy Krueger but a bigger villain named Freddie Mac. The ghouls and goblins of this piece are the creatures who feasted on the corpse of the American dream.

The story of the 2008 financial meltdown begins with a title card that says, simply, “This is how it happened.” There is nothing simple about this story of fiduciary irresponsibility but director Charles Ferguson and narrator Matt Damon carefully lay out the greed and systemic failure that brought America to the brink and beyond during the biggest bubble in history. With the collapse of the US economy so went many world markets. It’s a small world, one analyst says, “economies are all liked together.” It’s fascinating stuff, too complex to be recounted here, but Ferguson takes his time uncovering the intricacies of world finance without the kind of stunts that Michael Moore might have been inclined to include. It’s straightforward, kind of a big budget power point presentation, which allows the facts and figures to tell the story.

Many of the names will be familiar—Director of the White House National Economic Council Larry Summers, Richard Fuld, the former Chief Executive Officer of Lehman Brothers and Chairman of the United States Federal Reserve Ben Bernanke for instance—but the depth of the information will likely not be. Ferguson has assembled a varied and credible cast of characters to explain how we came to brink of a global financial collapse. Many key players declined to sit in front of his camera, but luckily archived CSPAN footage fills the missing gaps.

Despite the film’s steady tone, anchored by Damon’s matter-of-fact narration, Ferguson can’t seem to resist including a few “gotcha” moments. Occasionally the camera cuts away after difficult questions are asked without allowing the interviewee to respond. It’s a cheap trick to make the subject look guilty or uncooperative and the film would have been better without this obvious stylistic trick. Ditto the use of unflattering photos to subtly vilify people. More often than not Larry Summers is shown in unflattering close-up, his Hugo Boss suit spotted with dandruff. Again it shows a bias that the film doesn’t need to make its point.

“Inside Job” is occasionally a little too exhaustive. One of the least shocking revelations involves Wall Street a-type’s predilection for drugs and hookers and eats up more time than it should, but the film’s final point is probably the most chilling part of any movie this year. Like the bad guys who haunt Elm Street and Camp Crystal Lake the villains featured in “Inside Job” can’t seem to be killed. The film’s final cautionary note reminds us that many of the people who set us on this very destructive path are still in positions of financial power. Now that’s scary.

TAMARA DREWE: 3 STARS

This big screen adaptation of the Guardian comic strip Tamara Drewe sees director Stephen Frears return to the social satire of early work.

When Tamara Drewe (Gemma Arterton), once a shy and homely teen in the Dorset village of Ewedown, now a bombshell big city columnist, returns home to clear up her late mother’s estate, she instead turns the small town on its ear. An affair with a rock star (Dominic Cooper) earns the ire of his teenage fans while a hunky old flame (Luke Evans) tries to rekindle their teenage romance. The resulting entanglements—and more romantic intrigue from a philandering crime novelist—shine a light on the personal politics of nosy neighbors and gossip. In the end, however, it is also about leaving all the chitchat behind and getting on with your life.   

“Tamara Drewe” is an amusing distraction with some winning performances—particularly from Arterton who makes the selfish Tamara likeable and Roger Allam as an arrogant novelist—but doesn’t pack the punch of some of Frears’s other films like “Dirty Pretty Things” and “My Beautiful Launderette.” It is, however, well cast and eager to please with a sharp, literate script.

THE GIRL WHO KICKED THE HORNETS NEST: 1 ½ STARS

With “The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet’s Nest” the Millennium trilogy comes to a close on the big screen. At least the Swedish take on the wildly popular books does. Next up they’ll be given the David Fincher Hollywood treatment, which I originally thought was a bad idea. Leave well enough alone. But now, having seen all three of the Swedish entries I think it’s time someone else had a crack at bringing these pulpy, complicated and deliciously fun stories to the big screen.  

“The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet’s Nest” picks up about an hour after its predecessor, “The Girl Who Played with Fire” left off. Lisbeth Salander (Noomi Rapace) is in the hospital after being beaten, shot and left for dead by her father and half brother. In a room just down the hall her estranged—and very strange—father, is recuperating after being hit in the head with an axe by his daughter. It’s all very Greek tragedy. Meanwhile a wide reaching and ludicrously complicated scheme to have Lisbeth declared insane and hospitalized for the rest of her life is under way. It involves secret government organizations, some deep dark backroom dealings and a miasma of missing and mysterious documents. Only Mikael Blomkvist (Michael Nyqvist) has the know-how, and possibly the patience, to plough through this mess and keep his former lover out of the bin.

The beauty of the first film in this series, “The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo,” was that while it was a pulp thriller, complete with Nazis, bible references and bondage, it had a certain elegance in the way it unfurled its outlandish story, loads of action and a great central character in Lisbeth. Since then, however, the series has been an exercise in diminishing returns. “The Girl Who Played with Fire” committed the great sin of stretching every plot point past its breaking point and its sequel, “The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet’s Nest” is even worse, stretching our interest past its breaking point.

Talky, drawn out and largely action-free it endlessly rehashes Lisbeth’s life story while, by and large, she sits there mute. It’s such a waste of a character, which in the first episode of the story had the promise of becoming one of the great female characters of recent years.      

Cinematically two thirds of this series has been a bitter disappointment. Perhaps it’s better to stay at home with the books until the David Fincher version hits the big screen next year. 

PARANORMAL ACTIVITY 2: 3 ½ STARS

Last year’s “Paranormal Activity,” a down-and-dirty little horror film about a suburban home, a couple and the evil spirit that shared the place with them, was the first and only time I have ever heard anyone actually scream in a theatre. I don’t mean a quiet whimper followed by an embarrassed laugh or a frightened little squeal. No, I mean a full-on, open throated howl of terror. The movie was leave-the-lights-on scary, and like other left-field horror hits “The Blair Witch Project” and “Night of the Living Dead” it was cheap to make and really profitable, so of course there had to be a sequel (or, in this case, a prequel). The question is, will the prequel be as good as “Dawn of the Dead,” (that’s “Night of the Living Dead’s” astonishingly nasty follow-up) or will it mirror the ill-fated “Blair Witch” model and tarnish the movie’s good name?

Director Tod Williams (replacing series originator Oren Peli) doesn’t stray too far from the kind of thrills and chills that turned the first film into a box office juggernaut. Call it Three Demons and a Baby if you like, but the main differences are the addition of a baby and a dog who scraps with a demon. Here’s the rundown. After experiencing what looks like a home invasion—a family’s house is torn apart while they are out—the sister of the woman from part one comes to the conclusion that perhaps a demon is terrorizing her home. Instead of calling Father Karras or Jack Brooks, Monster Slayer, she decides to ignore the problem and hope it goes away. It doesn’t.

Sound familiar? Sure does, it echoes the first film so closely you may experience déjà vu as you watch “Paranormal Activity 2.” Like the first one the story is told through “found footage,” in this case a combo of home movies made by the family and surveillance footage. Imagine a mix of “America’s Funniest Home Videos” and a CNN crime report and you get the idea. The look of the movie goes a long way in creating the tension that propels the scares. The setting is so ordinary—it takes place inside a regular looking suburban house—and we’re so used to watching this kind of camerawork that the mix of the supernatural and the ordinary makes for some very tense moments. And there are more tense moments than anything else.

The movie is all build-up. It’s an old-fashioned scare-fest where the tension comes from the expectation that at any moment all hell (literally) could break loose. Nothing much happens for the first half-an-hour and the movie is literally at the hour mark before anything of note happens. Mostly it is low-fi thrills—a loud bang here, a slamming door there—and one of the first signs of demonic possession, a frisky pool cleaner, is almost played for laughs. It is creepy, however. The absence of music lends an eerie feel to the film which makes up for some of the epic silliness of the plot like the mumbo jumbo about a malevolent spirit that haunted the movie’s female characters when they were young. Also this family spends more time behind the camera than Haskell Wexler and it is never explained why these people feel they have to record every moment of their lives.

“Paranormal Activity 2” isn’t as scream-your-guts-out scary as the first one. It couldn’t be, we know what to expect the second time around, but it is good sorta-spine-chilling Halloween fun.

HEREAFTER: 3 STARS

“Hereafter,” the new drama from one-man-movie-making-machine Clint Eastwood—this is his eight film in just seven years—begins with a tour-de-force sequence before settling in to a deliberate, but slow pace. In its opening minutes Eastwood stages a tsunami scene that shows a tropical beach town torn apart by a giant wave. Caught in the wild water is a French television anchor (Cecile de France) who later becomes obsessed with thoughts and visions of the hereafter following her near death experience. That’s the first of three stories Eastwood weaves together “Crash”-style to explore the metaphysical side of death. In other, unrelated plot shards Matt Damon plays an American psychic with the ability to speak to the dead—“It’s not a gift,” he says, “it’s a curse.”—and an English boy who longs to communicate with his dead twin brother. 

Eastwood, working from a script by two-time Oscar nominee Peter Morgan has made a film that is by times engaging, by times plodding. On their own the three stories each have their merits but the film’s final third, where they are brought together, feels clumsy despite a touching climax between Damon and the little boy. It’s a nice moment, but it seems to take an eternity to get there. Ditto Damon’s interaction with the French journalist. Here Eastwood and Morgan have a chance to provide some insight into the woman’s story in the form of a letter Damon‘s character writes to her, but fail to. It’s a frustrating end to a movie that appears to have something to say.

On the plus side Eastwood creates nice moments of tension early on as he establishes the various story threads, and Damon once again proves that he is a versatile, interesting actor, but unfortunately the movie, so ambitious in scope—shot in three countries with a large talented cast—is let down by a self indulgent script.

SCORE: A HOCKEY MUSICAL: 2 STARS

Does a country that already has a Hockey Hall of Fame, a omnipresent coffee chain named after a defenseman and Wayne Gretzky Riesling really need an all dancing, all singing tribute to the sport? Director Michael McGowan thought so and the result is “Score: A Hockey Musical,” a parody of hockey violence set to a soundtrack that rhymes baloney with zamboni. All that’s missing is Don Cherry.

Farley (Noah Reid) is a mild-mannered, peace-loving, home-schooled hockey prodigy, who loses himself into the violent world of semi-pro hockey and the fame which accompanies his fancy stick handling. Songs are sung, ice dancing occurs and soon Farley realizes that the cute girl next door (Allie McDonald) is more than just his best friend and that if he isn’t true to himself he can never be true to the game.     

“Score: A Hockey Musical” has its heart in the right place, but what could have been a surreal Glee-like experience unfortunately ends up as a clumsily choreographed exercise in Canadiana that seems unlikely to appeal to sports fans or musical theatre hounds.

To mix sports metaphors “Score: A Hockey Musical” doesn’t hit a home run.

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. 

RED: 3 ½ STARS

When you see Helen Mirren’s name in the credits of a comic book adaptation you know that either hell has frozen over or you’re in for a pretty good bit of cartoony fun. Luckily it isn’t time for Old Scratch to buy a parka. Mirren stars in “Red”—an acronym for Retired, Extremely Dangerous—joining an all star cast of grey power actors like Bruce Willis (who would likely be grey if he had hair), Morgan Freeman and John Malkovich in a dramatization of a three-issue comic book mini-series about retired CIA agents called back into duty.

Frank Moses (Bruce Willis) is retired and bored. Padding around his comfortable suburban home he carries on a phone relationship with Sarah (Mary-Louise Parker), a clerk at Social Security. Their flirtation, however, goes to a whole new level when Frank’s home is invaded by some very bad men with some very large guns. He dispatches them, then realizes that not only is he a target, but very likely so is Sarah, the only person he ever talks to on the phone. They’ve never met face to face, so he travels to Kansas City, kidnaps her (for her own safety, of course) and embarks on a truth seeking mission that will reunite him with his old CIA workmates (Mirren, Morgan and Maklovich), uncover a war crime and a plot that leads to the very upper echelons of power.

“Red” serves up a clever mix of one-liners—“I miss the old days,” says Ivan Simano (Brian Cox), “I haven’t killed anyone in years.”—and action with a chaser of Geritol. We’re used to seeing Willis do action, so that’s not much of a stretch, but it’s a hoot to see his co-stars play against type. Malkovich’s paranoid (and rightly so) weapons expert, Mirren’s mild-mannered assassin (“I kill people, dear.”) and Morgan Freeman’s deadly intelligence officer are old timers, but unlike other lame retiree movies like “The Crew” (which starred “Red” bad guy Richard Dreyfuss) “Red” proves these grandparents don’t need Red Bull to be Red—Retired, Extremely Dangerous.

In the supporting cast Mary Louise Parker as Sarah, the clerk who finds she enjoys the life of danger Frank offers up, is a livewire. Parker takes a role that could easily have been played as the hysterical girlfriend cliché, puts a spin on it and very nearly walks away with the whole movie. Also strong is Karl Urban as an up-and-coming CIA black ops agent. He’s a family man and killer and is an effective foil for Willis and company.

“Red” isn’t great art, but it is a lot of fun and worth it to see tough guy Willis tucked in bed reading a romance novel called “Love’s Savage Secret.”

STONE: 3 ½ STARS FOR ACTING / 2 STARS FOR STORY

“Stone,” the new film starring powerhouse method actors Robert de Niro and Edward Norton, is the very definition of an actor’s movie. Richly drawn characters populate the film giving actors a chance to brood, use funny accents and, in the case of Milla Jovovich, deliver a career altering performance. It’s just too bad the story doesn’t give the actors the support they deserve.

De Niro plays parole case worker Jack Mabry. He’s a month away from retirement, and in an effort to cross ts’s and dot i’s he’s clearing his desk of all his outstanding paperwork. One of his final cases is Gerald “Stone” Creeson (Norton), an arsonist looking for spiritual enlightenment and a way out of prison. They engage in an elaborate verbal game but when words fail, Stone resorts to plan B, convincing his wife Lucetta (Jovovich) to seduce Mabry and use blackmail to earn his release from jail. She’s a willing participant, but soon after ethical and moral lines are crossed the deception deepens, revealing the true character of all involved.

First and foremost “Stone” is a movie to be admired for its performances. Norton, corn rows and all, impresses, playing a riff on the sketchy but emotionally layered characters he’s played before in films like “American History X” and “Primal Fear.” Mabry seems like a character De Niro could play in his sleep, a family guy with a reserve of rage hidden just under the surface, but his skilful performance takes Mabry to interesting and unexpected places. The biggest surprise, however, is Jovovich. The queen of the “Resident Evil” series taps into previously unseen reservoirs of talent, hinting that she may soon add Oscar nominee to her imdb listing.  

The performances are admirable but as good as they are the story won’t inspire admiration, just frustration. It has the bones of a gripping drama but as the running time approaches the ninety minute mark character motivations become muddled and Norton’s metaphysical transformation seems more like a plot device than a believable life change.  It allows Norton to do some interesting work but feels like it belongs in a different movie. Near the end it almost feels as though director John Curran (who worked with Norton before on the period drama The Painted Veil) ran out of time and had to tie up all the story shards in the quickest, most efficient way possible. There is little resolution and a metaphor, at least that’s what I think it is, involving a fly is mystifying.

“Stone” shines when it focuses on the actors but sinks like a, well, stone story wise.

NOWHERE BOY: 4 STARS

There is no shortage of John Lennon on celluloid. There are five official Beatles movies, documentaries like “The U.S. vs. John Lennon,” a 2006 movie that focuses on Lennon’s transformation from musician into antiwar activist, and even experimental short films like the John and Yoko shorts like “Two Virgins” and “Apotheosis.” He’s been portrayed by everyone from Paul Rudd (in “Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story”) to Monty Python’s Eric Idle but rarely has any actor captured both Lennon’s rebelliousness and vulnerability as Aaron Johnson does in “Nowhere Boy.”

The coming-of-age-story of one of the most famous people of the twentieth century, “Nowhere Boy” examines Lennon’s relationship with his estranged mother Julia (Anne-Marie Duff) and his Aunt Mimi (Kristin Scott Thomas), the woman who raised him. For the first time on film we see the effect the combustible combination of women had on his life. His mother’s ready! steady! go! lifestyle helping to form his rock ‘n’ roll side, while Aunt Mimi’s more slow and steady influence brought out John’s sensitive, artistic side.

“Nowhere Boy” is a fascinating character study that reveals the formative years of a complicated man. Aaron Johnson, who was eighteen at the time, succeeds because he doesn’t try to imitate Lennon, instead he plays a young, confused man who is on the cusp of growing up. Sure, the distinctive Liverpool accent is there as are the right period details, but it’s what is beyond those crutches that make this performance, as they said in “Yellow Submarine,” “a tickle of joy on the belly the universe.”

First time director Sam Taylor-Wood gets the muddled mix of excitement, testosterone and disappointment Lennon felt on an almost daily basis just right, and in the process has made one of the best Beatle bios to date.

HEREAFTER: 3 STARS

“Hereafter,” the new drama from one-man-movie-making-machine Clint Eastwood—this is his eight film in just seven years—begins with a tour-de-force sequence before settling in to a deliberate, but slow pace. In its opening minutes Eastwood stages a tsunami scene that shows a tropical beach town torn apart by a giant wave. Caught in the wild water is a French television anchor (Cecile de France) who later becomes obsessed with thoughts and visions of the hereafter following her near death experience. That’s the first of three stories Eastwood weaves together “Crash”-style to explore the metaphysical side of death. In other, unrelated plot shards Matt Damon plays an American psychic with the ability to speak to the dead—“It’s not a gift,” he says, “it’s a curse.”—and an English boy who longs to communicate with his dead twin brother. 

Eastwood, working from a script by two-time Oscar nominee Peter Morgan has made a film that is by times engaging, by times plodding. On their own the three stories each have their merits but the film’s final third, where they are brought together, feels clumsy despite a touching climax between Damon and the little boy. It’s a nice moment, but it seems to take an eternity to get there. Ditto Damon’s interaction with the French journalist. Here Eastwood and Morgan have a chance to provide some insight into the woman’s story in the form of a letter Damon‘s character writes to her, but fail to. It’s a frustrating end to a movie that appears to have something to say.

On the plus side Eastwood creates nice moments of tension early on as he establishes the various story threads, and Damon once again proves that he is a versatile, interesting actor, but unfortunately the movie, so ambitious in scope—shot in three countries with a large talented cast—is let down by a self indulgent script.  

SECRETARIAT: 2 STARS

“Secretariat,” the uplifting new drama about the little horse who could hits the Triple Crown of Sports Movie Clichés. It features a plucky protagonist, formulaic dialogue and a “never give up” attitude. It also features Diane Lane and John Malkovich so it can’t be all bad… or can it?

Lane, in her first film since 2008’s “Killshot,” plays Penny Chenery, the daughter of a once powerful horse breeder. Following the death of her mother Penny and her iron will, take over the running of the family farm. Finances are in disarray, but despite everyone’s insistence that she sell the farm and cut the losses she believes in a horse she calls Big Red, but everyone else knows as Secretariat. Against all odds—I know that’s a cliché, but so is this movie—she, along with the horse and an eccentric French-Canadian trainer named Lucien Laurin (John Malkovich) trot to the very pinnacle of success, becoming the first to win the Triple Crown in twenty-five years.  

Secretariat, the horse, not the movie, is probably the best known     stallion to ever step hoof on a racetrack. He was the horseflesh Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, an athlete so famous even non-sports fans knew his story. And that’s the problem with “Secretariat,” the movie. The story is so familiar that no amount of gutsy Diane Lane or oddball Malkovich can distract from the fact that there is very little conflict or drama in the movie. By the time Lane says, “I hear you have the heart of a champion” the end of the film is no longer a secret and the movie begins to feel like a balloon whose air is slowly seeping out.

At fault is the relentlessly sunny script that paints the characters in the broadest of strokes. Although they are all based on real people, none seem realistic. Penny is spirited, we can tell by the determined look on her face and we know Lucien is unconventional by the strange hats he wears. It all seems like they exist in a heightened reality, the kind of reality that only exists in movies. Mickey and Judy put on a show in the barn. Penny and Lucien rode a horse all the way to the top of the sports world. It seems like a movie conceit, except that it’s true, but the grit of real life horse racing is missing, replaced by Hollywood sparkle.

On the upside, the racing scenes are well shot—who knew the jockeys got so muddy during the race?—and despite the platitudes, clichés and sports truisms Lane and company manage to wring out the odd emotional moment, mostly when the horse is off-screen, however.  

“Secretariat” is escapist fare with little emotional depth and a truly unfortunate John Malkovich dance scene that, like the horse it is based on, gives it’s all, but unlike the horse, never quite passes the finish line.   

LIFE AS WE KNOW IT: 3 STARS
 
“Life As We Know It” has one of the most standard romantic comedy set-ups folded into a movie with a decidedly non-rom-com premise. Take the usual couple who can’t stand one another and mix with a story involving death and childrearing and you have a dram com—a dramatic comedy—and a pretty good one at that. Katherine Heigl and Josh Duhamel play Holly and Eric, the mismatched couple, two people set up on a disastrous blind date by their best friends—he has a motorcycle, she drives a Smart car, which is rom com shorthand for incompatible—who, after their friends are killed in a car accident, find they are the godparents to the surviving baby. They decide to make a go of it, playing mommy and daddy to little Sophie despite their obvious differences.

“Life As We Know It” takes a couple of risks. It allows us to get to like the child’s parents before killing them off and isn’t afraid to have long stretches of laugh free scenes. In fact, that’s the movie’s strength. The moments of real emotion, such as when Holly and Eric go back to their friend’s house for the first time after the accident, are well played and effective, it’s only when the movie slips into the “please don‘t say anything, just listen” stage that it becomes as traditional and predictable as any other Katherine Heigl movie. Luckily there are more real moments than not, some genuinely funny lines—at a diaper change Josh says, “It’s like “Slumdog Millionaire” in there”—and surprisingly effective performances from two lead actors better known for their looks than their acting abilities. “Life As We Know It” isn’t a classic by any stretch, but it is a lot better than the trailer would suggest.    

IT’S KIND OF A FUNNY STORY: 2 ½ STARS

“It's Kind of a Funny Story” has been dubbed the teenage “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest.” That’s a very simplistic—some might say lazy—way of describing a movie about Craig (Keir Gilchrist), a 16-year-old who checks himself into a mental hospital after contemplating suicide.

It’s also almost completely wrong.
“Cuckoo’s Nest” has many things missing in “Funny Story” such as the cruel staff member—remember the sadistic Nurse Ratched?—a wild rebellious spirit and a compelling dramatic structure.

The two movies do share a basketball scene and some good performances but that’s about it. The movie’s nice moments—usually involving Zack Galafinakis, who plays Craig’s lovable but disturbed mentor, or Emma Roberts who takes a giant step forward, career wise, as the ward’s troubled hottie Noelle—are blunted by a story that veers into schmaltzy sentimentality too often for its own good.

THE SOCIAL NETWORK: 4 ½ STARS

As you might imagine the story of a socially inept computer nerd who created the world’s most popular social networking website isn’t chock-a-block with action. Occasionally cursors fly across computer screens and fingers tap out code on keyboards, but that is about the limit of the action. But that’s OK when the dialogue is as entertaining and well delivered as it is in “The Social Network.”

Adapted from Ben Mezrich's 2009 book “The Accidental Billionaires,” the movie is the story of Mark Zuckerberg (Jesse Eisenberg) the genius computer programmer behind facebook. Bookended by the legal case (or more rightly put, cases) filed against Zuckerberg by an unsocial network of jilted business partners, including co-founder Eduardo Saverin (future Spider-Man portrayer Andrew Garfield) and a pair of well connected twins who claim the original idea was theirs, “The Social Network” charts the rise and, well rise of facebook from its humble beginnings in a dorm room at Harvard to its current evaluation of $25 billion.

The opening scene of the movie sets the tone for the rest of the film. Zuckerberg and his soon-to-be-ex girlfriend Erica (Rooney Mara) engage in a long, awkward conversation that reveals his disconnect from regular society. He’s the smartest guy in the room, but has a chip on his shoulder and an attitude. Their exchange, beautifully written by former “West Wing” screenwriter Aaron Sorkin, displays the kind of verbal fireworks that propels the movie.

Sorkin and director David Fincher have done a great job of taking a complicated story with loads of computer jargon and making it accessible. They treat the audience and the story respectfully by not dumbing down the details but unlike Oliver Stone’s recent attempt to explain the financial meltdown in “Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps” the drama of the story is allowed to take center stage, not the mechanics of the lawsuits or the computerese.

At the center of it All is Jesse Eisenberg, a young actor who, in the past, was often written off as the poor man’s Michael Cera. No more. This is a daring performance that shows Zuckerberg’s detachment while not turning him into a nerdy stereotype.

Also nicely cast are Andrew Garfield as Savein and Rooney Mara, who will soon be seen in the lead of the American remake of “The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo,” but the biggest surprise may be Justin Timberlake. His film career has been a bit spotty to date, but playing Napster co-creator Sean Parker with equal parts charisma and smarm suggests that when properly cast he can shine.

Mark Zuckerberg is a polarizing figure but love him or hate him, his story has made one the best films of the year.

FUBAR 2: 3 STARS

You probably went to school with some of them. Or maybe when you see them on the street you cross to the other side. They are headbangers, also known affectionately as ‘bangers. You know the type, long greasy hair with heavy metal t-shirts, who can usually be seen shot-gunning beer and yelling “just giver!” at the top of their lungs. “Fubar 2,” the long awaited follow-up to the fabulous 2002 uber-low budget mockumentary of almost the same name, reintroduces us to two ‘bangers, Dean (Paul Spence) and Terry (David Lawrence), who put a western twist on “Goin’ Down the Road” and leave their old Calgary stomping grounds for the promise of jobs in Fort McMurray. Let’s face it, these guys are easy targets for ridicule, and in the first film director Michael Dowse didn’t go for the easy jokes. He let us get involved with the characters and get to like them before dropping some very heavy plot developments on us. Unfortunately the second time around feels a bit more mean spirited, as though we’re laughing at Terry and Dean instead of with them. It’s still amusing, just not as poignant as the first film.

STREETDANCE 3D: FOR “SYTYCD” FANS 3 STARS / FOR EVERYONE ELSE 2 STARS

Do you clear your schedule every week to make sure you are at home, in front of the TV for both the performance nights and the elimination shows of “So You Think You Can Dance”? If so, then you may find something to like about “StreetDance 3D,” a new British import in the tradition of “Step Up” and “How She Move.” If not you’re unlikely to find much joy here. Sure the dance sequences are good, although the 3D does little to nothing to enhance them, and the cast is fetching but the story is so lame it’s a wonder they bothered with it at all. Jane English the screenwriter—no wait, that’s too grand a title for the person who “wrote” “StreetDance 3D,” let’s call her typist Jane English instead—has managed to bang together every dance movie cliché in the book. It’s as though she has a secret algorithm available only to people scripting dance movies that allows her to add together elements from every other teen dance movie ever made and actually come out with something less than the sum of its parts. No cliché is left unexplored—the bad guys even wear black military style uniforms. And the acting, well, let’s just say Ginger Rogers doesn’t have to worry about being replaced as the world’s most talented actress / dancer. But as predictable as “StreetDance 3D” is, it does have spirit and some high flying moves.

WALL STREET: MONEY NEVER SLEEPS: 2 STARS

“Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps,” the long awaited sequel to Oliver Stone’s 1987 Oscar winning film Wall Street, is bogged down by financial claptrap. The explanation of how Wall Street ended up in Bailout City is almost endless. Money terms like short selling, moral hazard and derivative are tossed around like coins down a wishing well. Luckily a lot of the dialogue is delivered by good actors like Frank Langella and Michael Douglas, but ultimately the whole experience is kind of like watching an episode of Mad Money with better looking people.

Shia LaBeouf, continuing his resurrection of 1980s film franchises, plays Jacob Moore, a Wall Street trader with a conscious—a mix of greed and green. He’s ploughing millions of dollars into sustainable energy, but just as a major project is on the brink of a breakthrough the bottom falls out, his firm goes bankrupt and his mentor (Frank Langella) commits suicide. At home things are better. His girlfriend Winnie is devoted to him. She’s also the estranged daughter of Gordon Gekko (Michael Douglas) the disgraced inside trader recently released from prison. Jacob and Gekko make a deal—a non financial one. Jacob will facilitate a reconciliation between father and daughter and Gekko will help find out who was responsible for the rumors that led to death of Jacob’s mentor. The question is, can Gekko, who once famously said, “Greed is good,” be trusted?     

“Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps” shows how Wall Street fell due to crashing markets and clashing egos. Stone wants us to understand how it all fell apart, but unfortunately the inner workings of banks and big financial deals, at least the way they are presented here, aren’t that dramatic. Real people losing their jobs, their homes, their bank accounts, that’s dramatic, but a bunch of bankers sitting around talking about money is less so. Stone fails to listen to his own creation, Gekko, when he says, “it’s not about the money, it about the game.” Unfortunately the game is a little dull.

The cautionary message about greed and its effects is good and timely—“Bulls make money. Bears make money,” says Gekko, “Pigs get slaughtered.”—but it is wrapped up in a movie that is too earnest and a little odd tone wise. A meeting between Gekko and Bud Fox (Charlie Sheen), the man responsible for sending him to jail in the first movie, is played for laughs which seems out of place, and frankly, kind of unlikely. Stone tries to cram too much story into the film—the father-daughter story, the meltdown angle, the revenge plot, the Gekko comeback—and with each of those plot shards comes a different tone.

Like the people who caused the financial meltdown that inspired this “Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps,” director Stone seems to have lost perspective. He draws good performances from the cast—Douglas could be nominated for a second time for playing Gekko, and LaBeouf is very good—but allows the rest of the movie to get as bloated as Lehman Brothers on a spending spree.

YOU AGAIN: 2 STARS

“Nobody gets through high school unscathed,” says Gail (Jamie Lee Curtis), consoling her daughter Marnie (Kristen Bell). Marnie, now a successful PR person in Los Angeles was once an unfortunate looking girl with the even more unfortunate initials M.O.O. She was tormented in school by the popular girls, led by Joanne (Odette Yustman) a pretty, but vicious cheerleader. Joanne would have been a long forgotten memory, if not for the fact that she is engaged to Marnie’s brother. The weekend leading up to the wedding brings up long suppressed memories for Marnie, and her mother (Curtis), who, it turns out had a high school nemesis in Joanne’s aunt Mona (Sigourney Weaver), a wealthy business woman with the annoying habit of littering her speech with tidbits of French and Italian. Did I mention this is a comedy? Better stated, an alleged comedy?

“You Again” has one of those over contrived kind of kind of plots that could really benefit from a dose of reality. I don’t need deep torment from the characters to make their predicaments plausible, but a whiff of real feelings for the audience to hang on to from time to time would elevate the whole thing from the level of a Saturday night sitcom to something that could inspire genuine laughs. Slapstick is fine, and silly humor is OK too, but this movie wants us to sympathize with its characters and unfortunately we don’t because they’re not characters but the blandest of comedy stereotypes.

Not even a sprinkling of Betty White’s now patented slightly crazy grandmother character can liven things up, although a surprise cameo near the end suggests there might have been a better, and funnier story to explore with these characters. If only they had made the prequel first.      

LEGEND OF THE GUARDIANS: THE OWLS OF Ga’HOOLE: 2 ½ STARS

Producers of “Legend of the Guardians: The Owls of Ga'Hoole” probably hope their film will do for owls what “Happy Feet” did for penguins. That is, make their stuffed character counterparts a must-have gift for the little ones come this Christmas. The mix of cute owls, action and goofy humor has made the Guardian books a hit with the kids, but I fear the movie isn’t likely to inspire the same kind of warmth.

Based on the first three books of the fifteen novel series by children's author Kathryn Lasky, “Legend of the Guardians: The Owls of Ga'Hoole” begins with Soren (voice of Jim Sturgess) a young barn owlet and his older brother Kludd (voice of True Blood’s Ryan Kwanten) are kidnapped by the Pure Ones. Taken to the remote isle of St Aggie’s they discover the evil Pure Ones are building a slave army of “moon blinked” owlets with the intention of taking over all owl kingdoms in the world. With the help of some new friends, but minus his brother who joins the Pure Ones, Soren escapes and alerts the Guardians of the island of Ga'Hoole to the wicked scheme.

The first thing you’ll notice about “Legend of the Guardians: The Owls of Ga'Hoole” is how beautifully animated it is. The owls and owlets are photo realistic, and the wonderfully rendered backgrounds are moody and atmospheric. In fact, one sequence of Soren flying through some extremely rough weather is as visually spectacular as anything we’re likely to see this year. It’s just too bad you’re unlikely to give a hoot about the story.

The story is as standard as it gets. The addition of Lord-of-the-Rings-esque character names like Eglantine and Allomere and some owl on owl violence can’t disguise the fact that this is a story that never really takes flight. Mix and match Cain and Able with a taste of “The Lion King” and you get the basic story outline.

Perhaps director Zach Snyder was trying to keep it simple after his last film, “The Watchmen,” earned savage reviews for its abundance of story, or perhaps he underestimated his audience, assuming that children would be wowed by the visuals and don’t need a great story.

The film does have its pleasures. The voice work is uniformly good, although some of the English accents might be tough for little, unaccustomed ears to decipher, and the 3D action sequences are quite good, although, again, perhaps a bit violent for young eyes.  

In the end “Legend of the Guardians: The Owls of Ga'Hoole” is undeniably a big handsome picture that is, unfortunately, more style than substance.

NEVER LET ME GO: 4 ½ STARS

“Never Let Me Go,” the new Carey Mulligan film about a world where children are cloned and raised to be spare parts for the ailing is the least science fictiony sci fi film ever. There are no spaceships, ray guns or robots anywhere to be seen. Instead it is a beautifully acted, deliberately paced story about the nature of love, loyalty and the cost of life. Based on Kazuo Ishiguro’s 2005 novel of the same name—called the book of the year and the decade by Time magazine—it’s not an easy movie. There are no villains, even though these children are essentially being slaughtered, nor is there much dramatic conflict. In their place are questions, ideas and an intellectually devastating climax. Grounding the movie are three remarkable performances. Carey Mulligan is luminescent as Kathy in a performance so subdued and so beautiful it’s hard to believe she is acting. Keira Knightley digs deep as organ donor Ruth and Spider-Man-to-be Andrew Garfield (also soon to be seen in “The Social Network”) shows some real promise. “Never Let Me Go” is a sophisticated horror film that will stay with you long after you leave the theatre.

I’M STILL HERE: 1 STAR

“I’m Still Here,” the pseudo cinéma vérité documenting Joaquin Phoenix’s shift from actor to rap star isn’t a documentary but an elaborate piece of performance art. Directed by Casey Affleck—Phoenix’s brother-in-law—it purports to be a chronicle of a complicated artist who feels “stuck in a prison of self imposed characterization.” Along the way we see Phoenix snort cocaine, yell, mumble and chase down Sean Combs while slowly turning into a bearded, tubby Zach Galifinacis look-a-like and singing the worst hip hop since Vanilla Ice rocked the mic. Part of me wishes this wasn’t a hoax because if it really was a portrait of a man in collapse I could excuse the sloppy, self indulgent filmmaking. What could have been an exploration of fame and insecurity is instead a one joke sideshow stretched to an hour-forty-five. It feels like being the only sober person at a party full of drunk and high people. They are, of course, more entertained by the goings on than you are. I do give Affleck and Phoenix points for commitment, but commitment doesn’t make a good movie.

EASY A: 4 ½ STARS
 
At one point in “Easy A” Olive (Emma Stone) says “John Hughes did not direct my life.” True enough, but he could have directed this movie. The story of a girl who takes the saying “let’s not and say we did” to a whole new level has echoes of Hughes and is the best high school comedy to come along since  “Mean Girls” and “Superbad.”    
 
The movie begins with the voiceover, “The rumours of my promiscuity have been greatly exaggerated.” It’s the voice of Olive (Stone), a clean cut high school senior who tells a little white lie about losing her virginity. As soon as the gossip mill gets a hold of the info, however, her life takes a parallel course to the heroine of the book she is studying in English class—The Scarlet Letter. At first she embraces her newfound notoriety; after all she had been all but invisible at the beginning of the school year.  “Google Earth couldn’t find me even if I was dressed as a ten story building,” she says. It isn’t until the lies and gossip start to spin out of control that she has to assert her virginity.  
 
“Easy A” is funny. Laugh out loud until your face hurts funny. Even the product placement—Quiznos—is funny. It’s filled with great one liners—“I fake rocked your world!”—and the best non-sex, sex scene ever but as good as the script is, it is enhanced by terrific comedic performances that elevate the movie from clever teen romp to something special.
 
Leading the cast is Emma Stone, the typical movie not-so-plain, plain girl, as the spunky Olive. Her past work in “Superbad” and “Zombieland” hinted at her ability to be funny and hold the screen, but here she turns a corner into full on Lucille Ball mode, mixing pratfalls with wit while pulling faces and cracking jokes. Smart and funny, she’s the film’s centerpiece and this should be her breakout movie.
 
Supporting her, as her parents, are Stanley Tucci and Patricia Clarkson. Tucci, who recently creeped out everyone who paid twelve bucks to see “The Lovely Bones” unleashes his silly side here, proving, once again, that he is one of our most versatile actors. Clarkson, as his freewheeling wife (and Olive’s mom) brings bucket loads of charm and comic timing. When they are together sparks fly.
 
Uniformly strong are Amanda Bynes, in what was supposed to be her last role before her retirement from acting, and Dan Byrd (from The Hills Have Eyes) as Brandon, a gay teen who turns to Olive for help. His plaintive plea for her to help put an end to the teasing he takes at school is heartfelt and touching and real.
 
“Easy A” is the most fun I’ve had in the theatre in a long time.
 
THE TOWN: 3 STARS
 
After a period of wild tabloid over exposure that ruined his credibility with movie goers and very nearly turned him into an industry in-joke Ben Affleck took some time for self reflection, stopped saying ‘Yes!’ to every script that came his way and earned a second act. In front of the camera—in movies like “State of Play”—and behind it—directing the critically acclaimed “Gone Baby Gone”—the man who has made 36 movies since 1993, 4 in 2004 alone, has rebuilt his career, focusing on quality rather than quantity. His latest film sees him on both sides of the camera, directing, co-writing and starring in “The Town,” a crime drama that returns him to the scene of his first success, the Boston of “Good Will Hunting.”   
 
A title card in the movie’s opening credits claim that Boston’s Charlestown neighborhood has produced more bank robbers than any other place on earth. Among them are Doug and Jem (Ben Affleck and Jeremy Renner) to local boys and lifelong friends who specialize in taking down armored cars. When they discover that one of their victims, bank manager Claire (Rebecca Hall) lives just four blocks from them and could possibly finger them for a bank robbery Doug is sent to scope her out and find out if she knows anything. Of course they meet; fall in love and through Claire Doug sees another way of life other than the violent path he now so effortlessly walks. Jem, however, isn’t ready to let Doug go.
 
 “Gone Baby Gone” set the bar high in terms of Affleck’s work behind the camera. It is an uncluttered, unsentimental film that seemed to announce the arrival of an interesting new director. A mini-Scorsese perhaps. Or at least someone who wasn’t afraid to make difficult, less mainstream choices that honored the story rather than pandered to the audience. That spirit is alive and well in “The Town,” at least for the first three quarters of the film.
 
Affleck balances the crime and romance elements of the story rather deftly until we near the end when his need [MINI SPOILER] for a crowd pleasing finale trumps his grittier instincts. It’s too bad because while it doesn’t ruin the movie as a whole, it doesn’t strengthen it either. A little bit of edge at the end would have made this a more memorable movie.
 
“The Town” is a nicely acted ensemble piece with intense work from “The Hurt Locker’s” Jeremy Renner and a sweet performance from Rebecca Hall as the vulnerable bank manager, and a sure hand from Affleck, but disappoints in comparison to “Gone Baby Gone,” falling just short of excellence.