Trouble in Paradise

TROUBLE IN PARADISE, an Ernst Lubitsch film from 1932, is ostensibly about two thieves and a mark. But it's really about class - about style, and cool, and knowing just the thing to say and just when to say it. I know this because it gives the magnificent Edward Everett Horton a brilliant role as the least cool guy in the room. When you cast Horton, you're casting the kind of class that makes real class look like the halls of Olympus.

And who walks the Olympian corridors? Herbert Marshall and Miriam Hopkins as the thieves, and Kay Francis as the mark. And they're so witty, so smooth, so self-aware, that you can't help but love them, can't help but want to be like them, feel sad that your time with them is over when the film draws to a close. They're funny, but in a knowing smile kind of way. They're thoughtful, but they know where the exits are. In short, they're wonderfully idealized aspirational figures, and following them through the grace and eye of Lubitsch, we're happy to be in their company.

Yes, there's a story. And turnabouts, and great dialogue, and all of that. But TROUBLE IN PARADISE is really about intangibles, and it delivers them with gusto. This is an enormously pleasurable film.

I'm Not Scared

What a great movie!

10-year-old Michele has a problem. There's a boy chained up in a hole in the ground out in the country, and his parents may be the kidnappers. I'M NOT SCARED has an excellent premise, but it really excels in what it does with that premise. Michele isn't an adult in a child's body, and he isn't superhuman. He's a normal kid with an extraordinary problem, and he handles it in plausible ways.

The movie draws its tension from the questions of who knows what, and when, and it gathers its power from our natural sympathy for the young and culturally reliable resonance of Christian themes in the rural farms of Italy.

The aptly named Giuseppe Cristiano delivers an eye-opening performance, and he's supported by naturalistic performances, photography, editing, and music. I'M NOT SCARED is nail-baiting, tear-jerking, and altogether successful.

I say again, what a great movie!

Battlestar Galactica: Razor

Ok, this didn't get a theatrical release, and it didn't go right straight to video, but I hope you don't mind if I geek out over a made for TV movie.

I had low hopes for BATTLESTAR GALACTICA: RAZOR. the movie tells the story of the Pegasus, a starship whose fate I, as a regular "Batlestar Galactica" viewer, already know. How interesting is it, really, to learn about how a terrible commanding officer became a terrible commanding officer? How a ship went wrong?

Not very, sad to say. Early in RAZOR, the commanding officer of Pegasus shoots her XO right there on the bridge, thus committing the tyrant's mistake: when you strike fear into your advisors, you will get no good advice. And without good advice, you can't make good decisions. And then things go to hell. And that's it, really. There's plenty more story, lots of nuggets for fans of the program, and some nifty space battles, but it simply isn't fun to watch the character arc of someone who makes such remarkably poor decisions. And our window into the story, the young officer who's intimidated, then awed, by said CO, well, she isn't very interesting, either. Her emotional range seems to go from sullen to angry to sullen, and it's hard to grow attached to her.

Hopefully, the next Battlestar Galactica movie will be two hours of Admiral Adam and President Rosslyn chatting over coffee. Frankly, I'd find that more interesting.

Monsters, Inc.

I have kids, so I've seen MONSTERS, INC. enough times now that I know its every beat. I've looked in every corner of every frame to spot all the little details. There just doesn't seem to be anything new there for me any more - I'm practically a MONSTERS, INC. -ologist.

And you know what I've learned? I've learned that MONSTERS, INC. is a well-crafted, beautifully realized, heartfelt, and funny movie. It does everything right, from the jaunty opening number that tells its juvenile audience not to get too scared by the opening scene to the absolutely perfect, absolutely heartbreaking closing shot to the fun outtakes that run with the closing credits. From the perfectly realized monsters that manage to stay just on the funny side of scary to the terrific voiceover work by Goodman, Crystal, Coburn, Buscemi, and the rest of the cast, the movie just plain nails it.

Bring on the next 25 viewings.

Vampyr

Carl Theodore Dreyer's VAMPYR is a moody, creepy horror film that seeks to unsettle and disturb us. It succeeds, and it does so through a combination of compelling story and wonderfully creepy atmosphere.

The story is the stuff of great horror. An inquisitive young man takes a room in a creepy European village. Late at night, someone enters his room and leaves a box with a note that reads, "To be opened in the event of my death." That box gets opened pretty darn quickly, and we're off to a different kind of vampire story. Why different? Well, Dreyer's idea of a vampire is neither ratlike creature nor hunka hunka burnin love. Rather, he gives us something more mysterious, perhaps more creepy, than we're used to in a vampire film. And he does it while using all the cinematic tricks available to him to create a pervasive sense of unease. VAMPYR is the kind of movie that sneaks up on you, and it's a delicious feeling. I'd gladly see it again.

Benji

BENJI (1974) is the mashed potatoes of movies. It's warm and comforting and nice and does all the things you expect it to do.

Here's the deal: Benji's the town stray, and he has a good little deal working for himself. He lives in a creepy old house that the locals think is haunted, so no one bothers him. He scores his chow from some local kids who've taken him to heart, as well as at least one local restaurateur who can always find a few scraps. He has friends throughout the town, and the film enjoys taking its time as it follows the loveable pooch on his rounds. Heck, he even goes on a date. How cute is that?

But it wouldn't be a movie without drama. Soon enough, the kids are in danger and Benji has a problem Lassie never had to handle. Who's going to listen to a stray? It's a good problem, and it's resolved well, and BENJI wraps everything up with a great big comforting bow. BENJI is a wonderful movie.

Hot Rod

HOT ROD is horrible, terrible movie. Even by the low, low standards of in-flight movies, this picture has the opposite of its intended effect: it makes time drag. When Isla Fisher and Will Arnett are in your movie and you don't know how to make (or let) them be funny, you have failed.

Here's the pitch: Rod is a pathetic loser who wants to (a) be a stuntman, (b) earn the love and respect of his stepfather, and (c) land the girl next door, but without too much sloppy kissing. First off, I've had it with "pathetic loser" quasi-retro-style teen comedies. Movie industry, accept that you will never, ever top SUPERBAD (I hear they've added more hops!) and move on. Second, I've had it with "comedies" that are just about people acting ridiculous, instead of people acting like people. Third, how is it possible that Fisher and Arnett have been reduced to dull, lifeless ciphers? I wouldn't have believed if I hadn't seen it. I'd have preferred not to believe it.

If you happen to be stuck on an airplane sometime in the next few weeks and this comes on, read SkyMall instead. It will be funnier.

Beowulf

The motion-capture version of BEOWULF, written by Neil Gaiman and directed by Robert Zemeckis, is a great time at the movies.

Since BEOWULF puts its technology front and center, I think it’s fair to comment on that technology. In deciding to go with motion capture animation for this film, Zemeckis made a conscious decision to trade Uncanny Valley drawbacks for the freedom of vision afforded by computer graphics. His choice pays off in riveting battle sequences, impossible camera movements and viewpoints, and the realization of a complete world. The price he paid shows in sight lines that are sometimes confusing and a certain deadness to the eyes that no computer animator has yet been able to overcome. In some cities, BEOWULF is available in IMAX 3-D, but such was not the case in Salt Lake City, where I happened to see this film. Watching it in 2-D, I noticed “payoff 3-D” shots that were more of a distraction than an entertainment. Overall, however, the presentation looked sharp and interesting.

Now, on to the movie. Neil Gaiman has long been among my favorite writers. He combines a love for and knowledge of folklore and literature with sensitivity to the human condition and remarkable storytelling talent. With BEOWULF, Gaiman wrote a screenplay whose deviations from the source text served to further the story, provide multiple viewpoints on the action, and stay true to the heroic tradition of which Beowulf is a part. It’s terrific, moving stuff that lends immediacy to both character and action sequences, not to mention serving up a few surprises.

As for the performances, they’re fine. Anthony Hopkins was bearable, for a change, and no one dropped the ball. Having said that, nothing stood out as being particularly noteworthy. It’s hard to act past those dead, dead eyes, no matter how much you try.

Taken together, the animation, story, and performances craft a two-hour film that made me lose track of time, that got my heart racing in all the right places, and that even managed to make Angelina Jolie look attractive. BEOWULF is fine entertainment, technologically marvelous, and, as I said, an all-around great time at the movies.

Now, if I only could see it in IMAX 3-D.

Ace in the Hole

Billy Wilder's ACE IN THE HOLE is so nasty that I couldn't find a way in to the movie. Watching ACE IN THE HOLE, I felt like I was stuck on a long trip with an insufferable companion. As the third act slowly hove into view, I couldn't wait for it to end.

ACE IN THE HOLE begins with Kirk Douglas, all braggadocio and desperate self-assurance, hustling for work in a smalltime Albuquerque newspaper. He lands the job and settles in to wait for the Big Story that'll get him back to the big time, where he think he belongs. The problem is, I didn't buy him as a newspaperman. I didn't buy him as the kind of guy who'd have the patience to gut it out in the minor leagues. Frankly, I didn't buy him as a human being. When I saw him, I saw only Kirk Douglas hamming it up.

But Douglas gets his break in the form of Richard Benedict, a poor sap who gets stuck in a cave-in while scavenging for Indian relics. Douglas milks the story for all its worth, and the resulting media circus is the real heart of this movie. Problem is, I didn't buy Benedict, either. He plays his character, Leo Mimosa, as too pious, too loving, too simple, too everything. It's as if the movie is part of the circus, building an image of a man who can't exist.

ACE IN THE HOLE may have much to say about human nature, the news media, and life in general. But it clangs its bell so loudly that all I wanted to do was plug my ears. I never thought I'd see a Billy Wilder movie I didn't like. ACE IN THE HOLE proves that there's a first time for everything.

The Godfather

You know you married the right woman when she says to you, "Let's stay up. I feel like watching a movie together." And she selects THE GODFATHER.
I hadn't seen THE GODFATHER since 1985, and I'd remembered it as an interminably long slog. But then "The Sopranos" came and went, and somewhere along the line we both raced through Puzo's novel, and this time, I was ready.

And this time, THE GODFATHER bowled me over. From the Swiss-watch screenplay to the career-making (or cementing) performances to the lighting to the music, this film puts down one sure foot after another. It breathes, it gives us time to learn about its people and place, and it fully invests us in the journey of Michael, a character who falls as he rises. The look in his eyes when, during the baptism scene, he announces, "I reject Satan and all his promises," is so thoroughly heartbreaking that the entire film is worth it for that moment alone.

THE GODFATHER is one of those films that's so well known it has become akin to cultural wallpaper. What happiness it gives me that it stands in its own right as a brilliant, captivating picture. Wow, my wife has great taste. What the heck is she doing with me?

Black Book

In 1977, a Dutch filmmaker named Paul Verhoeven garnered international acclaim for SOLDIER OF ORANGE, a brilliant film about WWII's Dutch Resistance. Like Rutger Hauer, the star of SOLDIER OF ORANGE, he moved to Hollywood. And like Hauer, he started strong in American science fiction, then tailed off into near oblivion. Unlike Hauer, who has accepted an American career of supporting roles as a reliable villain, Verhoeven finally moved back to Holland and returned to the setting of his greatest triumph: WWII's Dutch Resistance. And a wise decision it turned out to be. BLACK BOOK (or ZWARTBOEK) is a gripping, moving, surprising film that stands as its director's best work in decades.

BLACK BOOK stars Carice van Houten as Rachel, the perfect woman. She's smart, courageous, quick-witted, decisive, sexy, and man, can she sing! As the film begins in 1944, she's hiding out on a farm in the occupied Netherlands - a place where the farmer forces her, as a Jew, to recite from the New Testament before allowing her a meal of gruel. When circumstances force her off the farm and into the arms of a Resistance cell in The Hague, she adapts and survives. When duty requires her to seduce a mid-grade SS officer, she adapts and, well, that's when things get tricky. The officer, played by Sebastian Koch of THE LIVES OF OTHERS, isn't such a bad guy once you get to know him. Before she knows it, and rather to the amusement of her happily amoral friend Ronnie, our heroine is -gulp- involved. (Side note, there's a moment in the film that leads us to reevaluate Ronnie and realize that she's in an equally interesting movie of her own. I'd love to see Verhoeven do an _Ender's Shadow_ type of movie about her.) Moving at breakneck pace, the movie brings us to a thrilling climax involving the rescue of Resistance prisoners, a fancy-dress, and the possible redemption of the SS officer. And then it keeps going, and it keeps getting better and better, as twist piles upon twist until we're left, breathless, as the credits roll.

I attribute much of the film's success to van Houten, who delivers an extraordinary, virtuoso performance that leaves me utterly mystified regarding her lack of a Best Actress nomination. She's in nearly every scene, and she plays the layers of deception behind her eyes with masterful skill, letting us and us alone see the real woman underneath. When she experiences emotional crises, they feel earned because she's demonstrated how strong she is, how much it takes to get to her. Combine this performance with that of the reliable and likeable Koch, and you get two hours that fairly race by.

Apparently, BLACK BOOK got a mixed critical reception. Not from me. I loved every minute of it. BLACK BOOK is a winner. Now c'mon, Rutger. Catch a flight to The Hague. There must be a few more good Dutch scripts laying around.

Wet Hot American Summer

WET HOT AMERICAN SUMMER, a summer camp comedy, is a bad, bad movie. It's stupid. It's poorly acted. It's badly shot. It makes MEATBALLS look like THE MAGNIFICENT AMBERSONS. And this is coming from a guy who worked four summers at a camp on Catalina Island, a guy who still nurtures fond memories of the time the Newport Beach High School Girl's Swim Team camped out at the next bay over.

And yet, ghastly as this film undoubtedly is, I can't quite bring myself to outright hate it. This is where the world of context comes into play. This film, released in 2001, was cowritten by and features Michael Showalter, who went on to give us THE BAXTER. Its stars include Michael Ian Black, who was also in THE BAXTER; Paul Rudd, who killed in THE BAXTER, THE 40 YEAR OLD VIRGIN, and KNOCKED UP; Christopher Meloni, who blew everyone away with his roles in "Oz" and "Law and Order: SVU"; and (most importantly) Elizabeth Banks, who has helped to give us SPIDER-MAN, SEABISCUIT, THE BAXTER, THE 40 YEAR OLD VIRGIN, the incomparable SLITHER, and INVINCIBLE, plus a great turn in "Scrubs." And she kisses a girl. Janeane Garofalo and David Hyde Pierce play the grownups, and they get a pass on general principle. Had I seen this movie in 2001, I'm sure I would have hated it outright. Seeing it in 2007, I see a bunch of talented people figuring out how a third act transition works, how to hit a mark, how to act onscreen. I see people who are still unsure of themselves and going for easy, parodic schtick, and I know they'll mature and go on deliver clever, character-based work.

Still, I can't recommend WET HOT AMERICAN SUMMER. Not even for Paul Rudd completists or Elizabeth Banks fetishists. The movie made me laugh all of once, and that was more a dismayed bark than actual amusement. Just move right along to THE BAXTER, where the training wheels come off. You'll be glad you did.

The Corporation

THE CORPORATION is, indeed, a film by true believers for true believers. The problem is, I'm not entirely sure what these true believers believe in.

THE CORPORATION asks the question, "If a corporation is a legal person, what kind of person would it be?" The answer: "A psychopath." And, y'know, that's fine. State your thesis, make your argument, and have at you. But the movie's all over the place. One moment it's on about corporations in particular, then capitalism in general, then American consumer culture, then environmentalism, et cetera ad infitum. For authorities, the film gives us people like Michael Moore and Noam Chomsky, which sends a very clear message to the observer: if you don't trust these guys, this film isn't even trying to talk to you.

As a film, THE CORPORATION is basically a power point presentation with moving slides. The problem is, these visuals add nothing to the presentation, instead merely giving us something to look at while people read to us. If the purpose of this documentary is to inform or persuade, it succeeds only in boring the skeptical audience and leaving that audiencee unmoved. While watching THE CORPORATION, I felt like turning it off and just finding the bulletized summary somewhere on the Internet. It would have served the same purpose and saved me some time (But hey, I saw it on the Metro, and it's not like I had anything else to do.).

Had I done so, however, I'm still not sure I would have reaped a clear picture of where THE CORPORATION is coming from. What does it want? A global economy run by the same people who run the DMV? A transition to the pastoral existence of urban fantasy? Just to hit all the right talking points so maybe it can score with that cute hippie chick?

I don't know and, frankly, I don't care. THE CORPORATION fails as an invective, it fails as an entertainment, it fails as a film. This one is for punch-drinkers only.

The Italian Job

Oh, how I love 2003's THE ITALIAN JOB.

This is a movie that looks great, that sounds great, that's packed with charismatic and interesting stars, and that is both complex enough to reward careful viewing and broad enough to play in the background at a get-together. It's not the greatest heist movie ever (That's RIFIFI. If you haven't seen it, your life has no meaning.), but it does everything it needs to do, and it does it with style.

THE ITALIAN JOB begins with a job in, well, Italy. Venice (top city on my 'to visit' list), to be precise, and the job is a clockwork masterpiece of timing, guts, and skill. From there, we're on to a world of doublecrosses, revenge, Charlize Theron looking impossibly beautiful, fun dialogue, neat car chases, exciting practical stunts, and did I mention Charlize Theron looking impossibly beautiful?

The last time I saw this movie, it played in the background during an impromptu get-together. It was easy to settle into during lulls in the conversation, and it had lots of pretty pictures to display when the talk picked back up again. What a fun movie.

Ice Age: The Meltdown

Will you enjoy ICE AGE: THE MELTDOWN? Only if you enjoyed ICE AGE. This sequel brings nothing new to the table.

That's ok, really. ICE AGE was a pleasant enough way to spend an hour and a half, and THE MELTDOWN is, as well. It gives us the same characters, led by the likeable Ray Romano. It gives us another story of a journey, and it gives us another lesson about loyalty and family. Like I said, not a bad way to spend a little time, and lifted by the extraordinary animation done by 20th Century Fox.

I'm sorry, that's all I've got. This movie is already fading in memory.

The Passion of Joan of Arc

Carl Theodore Dreyer's THE PASSION OF JOAN OF ARC (1928) is a compelling, thought-provoking, and aesthetically rewarding film.

THE PASSION OF JOAN OF ARC is a passion play that draws clear parallels between Joan and Jesus. Like Jesus, Joan is hauled before a politically loaded court, asked questions designed to trip her, and ultimately meets her fate. In this telling, drawn from court documents, Joan may be insane, she may be enlightened (to use a term from another religious tradition), or she may simply be a scared kid who's in way over her head. Maybe she's all three. Maria Falconetti, in her only film role, plays Joan almost as a blank slate, allowing us to project our interpretations of her predicament and her reactions to it onto her sometimes impassive, sometimes ecstatic, sometimes terrified face.

While the film wraps us in fascination, it prods us to thought. How different were Joan's ecclesiastical courts from Christ's? Why the fascination with styles of dress and the religious implications of gender-normed clothing? To what extent did Joan's ecclesiastical judges belive in what they were doing, and to what extent were they either saving their own necks or expanding their power with the dominant political forces of the day?

These considerations alone would make for a commendable film, but Dreyer compounds and magnifies them with his choices in the creation of the film's look and feel. The architecture of the fortress in which the action proceeds is unsettling and off kilter in a way that alludes to German expressionism without becoming overwhelmed by it. His harsh, unforgiven lighting and camera work lends the production a documentary feel that adds to its immediacy. And his direction of the actors themselves feels spot on. These felt like real people undergoing real tests, not early film actors hamming it up.

Criterion, as usual, does commendable work with this film. I love that a company can build a business model around the public good, and Criterion consistently does that by restoring and presenting the very finest of cinema. THE PASSION OF JOAN OF ARC is as crisp as we could want, and it's a pleasure to view.

I loved this movie.

Ocean's 13

OCEAN’S 13 is like bubblegum. It’s unpretentious, it’s essentially kid stuff, and it’s fun. What more do you need?

Here’s the setup: George Clooney and his gang go after yet another Vegas Casino. How these guys’ faces aren’t on every wanted poster in the city is beyond me, but there you have it. And really, that’s all you need to know. Their motivation is irrelevant.

What really matters here is the film’s style, and OCEAN’S 13 has style to spare. The locations are fabulous, the wardrobe is fabulous, and the dialogue is just plain fun. C’mon – it even has Eddie Izzard in a small yet crucial role. And if Eddie Izzard isn’t enough to get you queue up a movie, well, why do you even bother?

Ellen Barkin and Al Pacino both model the latest in age-defying technologies, everyone appears to be having a good time, the heist is sufficiently intricate, and I enjoyed the heck out of OCEAN’S 13. What more could a guy ask for?

Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer

Y’know what I liked about the FANTASTIC FOUR: RISE OF THE SILVER SURFER? Its sense of fun. This film takes plenty of time for gags, and this lightness works toward creating a pleasant, rather innocuous entry in the series.

The Silver Surfer, who actually looks more like a mercury surfer, is an extraterrestrial being who, um, surfs around the galaxy preparing life-bearing planets for consumption at the hands of another, larger extraterrestrial being. When he shows up on Earth, its up to the Fantastic Four, with a combination of help and interference from old nemeses Victor von Doom and some U.S. Army general with Canadian jump wings and jurisdiction in London and Siberia. (Aside: Andre Braugher plays the general. Whenever I see him, I recall the top-notch Iago he played in a production of Othello opposite Avery Brooks. Suffice it to say that Iago is a more interesting character than the stock “military guy as imagined by people who’ve never been in the military” he’s stuck with here.)

That’s a fine setup for a superhero movie, but what makes F2S2 a pleasant time at the movies is the interaction between the members of the Fantastic Four. These people care about one another, and I enjoyed their interactions as they tried to both save the world and lift one another up.

Is F2S2 a particularly good movie? Not really, and I’d skip right by it if I ran across it on a hotel TV. But it’s fine and, if your kids want to watch it, it won’t kill you to sit down and watch it with them. Tepid praise, but praise nonetheless.

Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

HARRY POTTER AND THE ORDER OF THE PHOENIX is true to its source material. OTP is the dourest, least entertaining of the novels up to that point, and the film is no different. It’s dour because not only does Harry feel angry and isolated, but this film takes all the wonder out of Harry’s magical world, leaving us to contemplate accepting previously unimaginable magical occurrences as everyday events. Of course, this is happening to Harry as he grows into manhood, but it’s still a bit sad to see.

This is usually the part where I recount the movie’s hook, but why bother? It’s Harry against yet another Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor, with Voldy pulling the strings. There’s some stuff about teamwork and the importance of friendship, but this film feels most like a trudge through required setup material for the last act of the series. It quickly checks in with the major characters, not giving us enough of any of them to make them worth our while. The final battle feels devoid of resonance, and I just couldn’t bring myself to care.

By far, HARRY POTTER AND THE ORDER OF THE PHOENIX is the least satisfying movie of the series. Let’s hope things improve with the next outing.

Fun side note

The Blogger software has suddenly decided that I can read Kanjji. It's a good thing I've been doing this for a while, because all the back-end stuff is now in Japanese, and I can go only by a vague memory of which colored buttons do what.

As You Like It

I was all set to fall in love with Kenneth Branagh’s direct-to-video AS YOU LIKE IT, set in a trading colony in Meiji Japan. I’ve been a fan of Branagh’s work since I saw HENRY V in college, and I’ve had a thing for Japanese culture since I read James Clavell’s _Shogun_ in the 7th grade. Thus, when I fired up this version of AS YOU LIKE IT while staying in a hotel outside of Yokohama (coincidentally, the site of the Meiji trading colony), it seemed like the perfect combination of material and viewer.

Alas, not even Brian Blessed, Alfred Molina, and Kevin Kline could save this slow, plodding, and unsatisfying film. The film’s Anglo-Japanese setting doesn’t really work, its pacing could have used some help in the editing room, and I had a sense of the film’s self awareness that this was, indeed, Shakespeareit was giving us. As written, AS YOU LIKE IT is great fun, but this production seems to miss the point.

I’m not sure what’s happening with Branagh. His star shined so brightly, but it has been guttering these last several years. Where’s the confident, exciting filmmaker of HENRY V, DEAD AGAIN, and MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING? I haven’t seen his remake of SLEUTH yet, but Time magazine’s impression does not look promising. What did he lose along the way?

Well, whatever he lost, he didn’t find it while making this latest AS YOU LIKE IT. Move along. There’s nothing to see here.

Death Proof

Kurt Russell, often the best thing about whichever movie he’s in, is easily the best thing about DEATH PROOF, Quentin Tarantino’s half of the GRINDHOUSE experiment. As the homicidal Stuntman Mike, he’s as charming, creepy, scary, pathetic, and just plain fun a villain as you could ask for. And he’s giving us this role in a film that defies narrative convention, dazzles with great practical stunts, and makes for a great time at the movies.

Here’s the deal: Stuntman Mike’s into vehicular homicide, using his superlative driving and technical skills to kill his female victims. When he targets a vehicle carrying stuntwomen, however, things don’t go his way.

And that’s pretty much it. The rest is a fun and creative misdirection gambit and an extraordinary sequence of stunts in, on, around, and with cars. It’s exciting, vibrant work, and I enjoyed every minute of it. Bring on more evil Kurt Russell!

Planet Terror

PLANET TERROR, Robert Rodriguez’s half of the GRINDHOUSE experiment, opens with a trailer for a Danny Trejo vehicle called MACHETE. Pay no attention to the fact that there is no actual Danny Trego vehicle named MACHETE. The trailer is enough, and the trailer alone makes PLANET TERROR worth watching. What about the feature? Well, I can tell you everything you need to know about the feature by asking you how you reacted to the posters and trailer for the film. If the image of a woman in a miniskirt with a machine gun / rocket launcher / flamethrower prosthetic leg doesn’t work for you, then PLANET TERROR has nothing to offer. If, however, that’s enough to get you to queue it up, then stand by.

You gotcher zombies. You gotcher sexy nurses. You gotcher gunplay. You gotcher Monster Bruce Willis. Hell, you even gotcher Michael Biehn. If that isn’t enough to satisfy your moviegoing jones, what the hell were you doing renting a movie whose cover featured a woman in a miniskirt with a machine gun / rocket launcher / flamethrower prosthetic leg, anyway?

So, PLANET TERROR. It is what it is, and it’s a whole lotta fun. Try it with barbecue.

The Kingdom

THE KINGDOM, a mystery / cultural thriller set in the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia, follows an FBI team that receives permission from the Saudi royal family to assist in investigating a terrorist attack on Westerners living in a company compound. Complications ensue, and we’re on our way to great investigation of the clash of Muslim and Western culture. That is, until director Peter Berg decides that we in the audience are idiots who won’t sit still for a good story unless a kickass gun battle breaks out.

I’ve spent a fair amount of time in the United Arab Emirates, but I’ll admit to a bit of cultural prejudice. While I’ve never been treated with anything other than friendliness and respect, I never walk down the street without maintaining a complete scan of my environment and I never walk down back alleys. And that’s the UAE, where Saudis come to party. THE KINGDOM takes the sense of unease a Westerner can feel in a Gulf State and dials it up to eleven, perfectly capturing that sense of alertness, that sense of feeling like a somewhat unwelcome guest who’ll be tolerated nonetheless.

And then it throws the achievement away with a professional but pedestrian climactic battle that, seemingly, comes out of nowhere. Here we are plumbing the subtleties of the Arab mind and having a fine time doing it, then it’s all RPGs and bubblegum philosophy about turning the other cheek. Ah, well.

Two observations that I couldn’t manage to work into the body of the review: #1, Danny Elfman’s score is phenomenal. #2, Danny Huston’s “slimy guy” schtick is getting old. C’mon, Danny, you were great in THE PROPOSITION! Choose more roles that show off your range!

1408

1408 is my kind of horror movie. It isn’t about slashers or monsters or natural disasters. It’s about a good, old-fashioned haunting and the fear and foreboding that haunting is all about.

John Cusack delivers a first-rate performance as a jaded writer who pumps out quickie books / travel guides on haunted hotels. When he receives a mysterious postcard from the Dolphin Hotel warning him to not enter Room 1408, he takes it as a personal challenge. Soon he’s meeting hotel manager Samuel L. Jackson, who does his best to warn the writer off his project of spending a night in 1408. General note for living: when Samuel L. Jackson is afraid of something, your punk ass better be afraid of it, too.

But Cusack is undeterred, and into 1408 he goes. And then the haunting begins. From apparitions of the room’s many suicides to jump-scare shots of Clint Howard appearing out of nowhere (And hey, what isn’t more terrifying than having to share a hotel room with Clint Howard?) to a final showdown that makes us fear poor John might wind up like poor Jack from another Stephen King haunted hotel movie, 1408 does a marvelous job of keeping the viewer on edge, off balance, and delightfully scared.

I didn’t expect much from 1408, but I got the best mainstream haunting movie since THE OTHERS. What a pleasant surprise.

Death Sentence

I saw DEATH SENTENCE a couple of days ago, and already I can only barely remember it.

DEATH SENTENCE is a variation of the "I love my family. But, if I could be unencumbered, imagine all the kickass stuff I could do!" story. For kids, this story often begins with a separation or orphaning. For adults, it's death or sudden divorce. In this case, it's death: Kevin Bacon is a professional, family guy. His older son is killed in a robbery, and he seeks revenge. When the bad guys come after his family, he's freed to unleash his inner Rambo.

That's fine, and Bacon is as good as usual. But the movie itself has serious flaws. Director James Wan's failures to establish geography leave audiences confused during chase and stalking sequences: who is where, and who is winning? Its bombastic use of color and set design (There's a sequence in a church that lacked only John Woo's flying doves.) distracts us from the film and calls too much attention to the filmmakers. Its use of shaky-cam during fight sequences takes us out of the action and annoys rather than entertains.

Further, as far as revenge fantasies go, DEATH SENTENCE tries to have it both ways. On the one hand, it expects us to believe that Bacon can go from insurance adjustor to killing machine just because he's really mad. On the other, it turns him into a Karloffian monster, as if to wag its finger at us for rooting for him. Pick a side, movie, and stick with it!

Finally, I've just devoted more thought to this film in the last half hour than I did for the two days prior. If you're a Kevin Bacon completist, knock yourself out. Otherwise, you can easily dismiss this film. It's minor at best, bad at worst. You can do better.

Knocked Up

While not as riotously funny as SUPERBAD, KNOCKED UP is still quite funny. And touching. And insightful. And sweet. It's a perfect date movie, but you don't have to be a date to enjoy it. Here's another winner for Judd Apatow; a guy who, at the moment, can do no wrong.

Here's the setup: Seth Rogen's a schlubby slacker who somehow manages to fall into bed with the delightful Katherine Heigl. Two months later, and to her horror, Heigle realizes that she's pregnant. Will this mismatched couple figure out how to navigate both pregnancy and the early stages of an actual relationship? Oh, come on: it's a romantic comedy. Of course they will. The real question is, will this mismatched couple do so in a sufficiently amusing way? You betcha.

As with SUPERBAD and THE 40 YEAR OLD VIRGIN, the comedy here is all in the dialogue. At the moment, no one's consistently writing funny dialogue as well as Apatow (and buddy Rogen), and KNOCKED UP is no exception. These characters are a delight to see and hear, and I suspect that I'll find more to enjoy about their conversations when I see this film again with my delightful bride. Further, you know how most romantic comedies have at least one of the characters learning some schmaltzy life lesson and then beat us with it? KNOCKED UP sells its character development through clever and perceptive insights into relationships both starting and established.

Take all this, mix in a love for its characters, and any question as to why this film was such a monster hit goes away. This is a smart, funny film. I look forward to seeing it again.

Superbad

SUPERBAD is the funniest movie I've seen in months. Its jokes range from broad to subtle, its characters feel and behave in comically realistic ways, and its humour feels natural, rather than forced. There's never a sense, as in BALLS OF FURY, that this film is jumping around and shouting, "Look at me! I'm funny!" It just is.

SUPERBAD follows three geeks on the cusp of high school graduation. There's the skinny one, the fat one, and the one who lives at the very bottom of the social ladder. Unlike NAPOLEON DYNAMITE, which invites us to laugh at its geeks, SUPERBAD invites us to laugh with them as they embark on a quest which, for a high schooler, is all-important: they need to score some alcohol for a party (Side note: when we were in high school and wanted alcohol, we drove around town with our prettiest friend. When we spotted a liquor store that was staffed by a man either very young or very old, we sent her in with cash and a smile. Worked every time.). Along the way, they try their hands at forgery, petty theft, setting police cars on fire, and scaring the hell out of small children. It sounds horrendous, I know, but trust me when I say that it's all in good fun. These kids mean well, they really do, and we can't help but like them and root for them.

That's fine, and it could make for a reasonably pleasant time at the movies, but that isn't what makes SUPERBAD so funny. It's the dialogue, baby, and SUPERBAD is a dialogue-rich film that creates some of the most hilarious exchanges I've enjoyed since KISS, KISS, BANG, BANG. I saw this with some friends the other night, and we've been quoting lines back and forth ever since.

Additionally, this movie has a sweetness to it that gives it a warm glow. There's no villain, per se - just situations. It' s nice, and it avoids the uncomfortable changes in tone that hurts movies like THE WEDDING CRASHERS.

Overall, I rate SUPERBAD as a huge, huge hit. It's the kind of movie one can see over and over again, and I fully intend to. What a great comedy.

Balls of Fury

Remember Maggie Q, the single best thing about MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE: 3? She was so striking in that red dress that, when she turned up in BALLS OF FURY, I decided to write my review as if BOF were a Maggie Q vehicle, as if hers was the only story being told. But you know what? BALLS OF FURY taught me that a little Maggie Q goes a long way. 15 seconds of her in a red dress may capture the imagination, but twenty minutes of her in bikini-style workout gear only makes us realize that she has the body of a malnourished teenager. Combine that with an on-screen personality that, while pleasant enough, isn't particularly interesting, and it wasn't long before I was wishing that she'd get off the screen so Christopher Walken could have more time to camp it up.

BALLS OF FURY is broad comedy, not a deep one. It's a collection of gags slapped on to an ENTER THE DRAGON chassis, and that's fine, if you're ok with 86 minutes of "Ping Pong is a Silly Game" gags. I was sufficiently ok with it to chuckle now and then, occasionally smile, and otherwise lose track of time. Christopher Walken appears to be having a great time delivering a bad Christopher Walken impression, it's always fun to spend some time with James Hong and Terry Crews, and some guy named Thomas Lennon steals the show as a pompous German antagonist.

I could see stopping on BALLS OF FURY if I'm clicking through the channels on a hotel tv some night, but I couldn't see going out of my way for it again. Your mileage may vary.

Rocky II

I saw ROCKY II again.

You know what stood out for me this time? The absolute brilliance of Conti's score. It starts out '70s-funky, then goes all high-Rocky classical during the montage, then seamlessly blends into the tune on his baby's new mobile, then brings in the Wagnerian sensibility during the climactic bout. It is absolutely brilliant, and it makes me want to buy the soundtrack. As long as they leave out Frank Stallone.

As for the rest of the film, it's a bummer for the first two acts, but the third is so uplifting that it makes up for it. Here's the deal: Rocky blows through his fight money in no time, and, before he knows it, he's just another unemployed mook with a baby on the way. Meanwhile, Apollo needs to redeem his performance in his previous fight, and he tries to lure Rocky back into the ring. Rocky demurs and opens a dairy farm in the Swiss Alps.

Just kidding. You know what happens. But it's good stuff, everyone loves those iconic steps, and Stallone knows how to put together a fight scene. And if that doesn't work for you, you can always close your eyes and just listen to the soundtrack. A person can do worse for a couple of hours.

Nine Lives

NINE LIVES is an ambitious picture. It's a series of twelve sometimes-connected vignettes, each of which centers on a turning point in a character's life. It tries something new, and for that I give it credit. Sadly, it fails.

The characters in NINE LIVES all speak like the same writer is creating their dialogue. The movie's various cast members act their hearts out, but their performances feel more like acting class exercises then real people. After reading Ebert's glowing review of the picture, I was all ready to settle down for a great experience. Unfortunately, NINE LIVES didn't deliver that for me.

Godzilla: Final Wars

The Japanese People hate me.

I don't know why. I drive a Honda. I eat sushi. I even do Japanese language tapes in my car. Why, oh why, would the members of this great and noble culture choose to inflict GODZILLA: FINAL WARS upon me? By throwing nearly every monster in the history of Godzilla movies into the thing (yes, including the horrid Minilla), they guaranteed repeated viewings at Chez Ellermann, much to the delight of my little boy. And they guaranteed hours of torment for Yours Truly.

GFW teams up a Japanese guy who looks like Keanu Reeves with a white guy who looks like Stalin. Together, they do battle with an evil alien overlord who looks like David Bowie's villain from THE LABYRINTH. I mean, c'mon, this movie thinks executive transvestites make for credible villains! Well, this particular executive transvestite does seem to have the power to control monsters from Godzilla's past, but any awesomness he could derive from this ability is more than offset by his poor taste in mascara.

This movie is poorly edited, atrociously acted, and can't decide whether it's trying to pay homage to THE MATRIX and INDEPENDENCE DAY or merely rip them off outright. The whole production has only one redeeming virtue: it gives us the spectacle of Classic Godzilla kicking American Godzilla's butt, followed by a quick photo-and-roar-op with Mt. Fuji as a backdrop. If that's your thing, you may enjoy at least five minutes of GFW. Otherwise, stay far, far away.

Strings

STRINGS is a marionette movie with a, erm, twist. Instead of having
its puppets serve as humans and asking us to ignore the strings, its
puppets serve as puppets and embrace their strings. They have a
string-based theology, marionette-centered architecture, and a vision
of birth that's unlike anything you've ever seen before.

The story itself is standard faery tale stuff: a kingdom at war, an
evil usurper, a rightful king, and all the standard "hero's journey"
elements. If this were a CGI film, or even a live-action picture, I'd
probably recommend giving it a pass. But it isn't, and the absolutely
outstanding set design, art direction, and puppeteering make this one
worth the rental.

STRINGS takes you a world familiar enough to understand, yet alien
enough to delight and astonish you. Enjoy.

The Aristocrats

Here's something you probably don't know about me: I have an incredibly vulgar sense of humor. When I'm hanging out in a ready room, I'll go lower faster than anyone there. The "Oh-my-god-I-can't-believe-he-just-said-that" laugh is a cheap laugh, but I'll take it any time.

In other words, THE ARISTOCRATS was right up my alley. For its first hour or so, the movie had me going from chuckling to guffawing to weeping to back again with hardly a letup. Then the movie made a fatal mistake: it gave us Kevin Pollack telling the joke as Christopher Walken, a performance so brilliant that no one - no one - could possibly follow it. By climaxing too early, the movie left me rather disinterested for the remainder.

But I was ready to watch it again five minutes after that.

PS One major disappointment: THE ARISTOCRATS gives us Shelley Berman (my favorite comedian) talking about the joke, but never actually telling the joke. I would've loved to have seen his take!

PPS My wife left the room after twenty minutes, so YMMV. I don't tell her ready room jokes, either.

PPPS Sarah Silverman: I don't get it. Who's Joe Franklin?

The Manitou

Some movies are simply bad, some are horribly bad, and some are delightfully bad. 1978's THE MANITOU, starring Tony Curtis as a sham psychic and Susan Strasberg as a topless, psychic, evil-immortal-medicine-man battler, is wonderfully, delightfully bad in nearly every way. It embraces its profound badness, has great fun with it, and invites us to join in. Depending on your mood at the time of viewing, you're bound either to enjoy the heck out of it or hit the "Stop" button about 15 minutes in. It's up to you.

Here's the setup: Curtis is a sham psychic, ripping off old ladies in San Francisco. He's living the good living, grooving to funk and drinking canned beer, when an old girlfriend (Strasberg) calls. She has a problem: there's a fetus growing in her back, and that can't be good.

Before he knows it, Curtis is interviewing Burgess Meredith (playing a guy who clearly study the script and is just ad-libbing his way through things) learning that said fetus is the reincarnation of the aforementioned evil, immortal medicine man. He's off to the reservation to find another medicine man to help him out, then it's back to the hospital, where Strasberg is giving back-birth to a midget in a rubber suit. From there, well, all I can say is that there are some movies that make me wish I did drugs. I have difficulty imagine how much better Topless Strasberg mentally battling Rubber Suit Midget in space (space!) could be, but I can't watch that scene and not think that it wasn't made for mushrooms.

So: THE MANITOU. Nowhere near good, but actually quite fun. You could do worse.

PS If you watch this, be sure to watch the trailers first. They'll really put you in the mood.

Shoot 'Em Up

I should have loved SHOOT 'EM UP. I really should have. I've made relatives sit down for HARD BOILED. I think the BOURNE movies are top notch. Hell, I consider the two TRANSPORTER movies borderline classic cinema.

But I merely liked it. I suppose that's ok.

SHOOT 'EM UP stars Clive Owen as Bugs Bunny and Paul Giamatti as Elmer Fudd. Or is it Clive Owen as Roadrunner and Paul Giamatti as Wile E. Coyote? Owen as Tom and Giamatti as Jerry? Whichever, these two cartoon characters chase and get chased across a breathless 86 minutes filled with more gunfire, 'splosions, and chases than you can drop an anvil on. It's fun, or at least it starts fun, but it grows tiresome as the body count rises and it nihilistic tone comes to grate on the nerves. By the time this bulletfest turns into an anti-gun screed (talk about trying to have your cake and eat it, too), I'd had enough.

Paul Giamatti, the reason why I saw this movie, is delightfully, insanely evil. I can imagine the actor cackling and rubbing his hands together while reading this script for the first time. He's balanced against Clive Owen, an actor I've liked only in those BMW short films. People keep telling me that Owen is the Next Big Thing, but I don't get it. He just seems dour and angry, and if I want dour and angry I'll just look up an old girlfriend. Further, SHOOT 'EM UP wastes the magnificent Monica Belluci in a role that makes me wonder why she accepted it.

Yes, some of the stunts are spectacular. There's a skydiving setpiece that's simply breathtaking. There's some of the most creative gunplay I've seen since EL MARIACHI. But there's very little to leaven it. In addition to its action, SHOOT 'EM UP makes us sit through an hour and a half of human despair and degradation.

And that, I can live without.

3:10 to Yuma

3:10 TO YUMA is both a fine western and a sad commentary on the current state of the western.

James Mangold has crafted a fine western with an extraordinary cast, featuring two of the finest leading men in pictures today: Christian Bale and Russell Crowe. The men sell antagonism, respect, and something approaching friendship, and I enjoyed watching the development of their relationship over the course of the film. The film itself has nearly everything one can expect from a western, including evil water barons, post- Civil War hostility, Apaches on the raid, and the impending changes brought on by rail travel. It also features some decent western stuntwork, but it's this very stuntwork that makes 3:10 TO YUMA a sad commentary on the current state of its genre. Where are the horses trained to fall and tumble? Where are the stuntmen trained to ride them? For that matter, where are the stuntmen trained to hop from horse to horse, or carry out any of the other feats we've come to expect as followers of the genre? I think that 3:10 TO YUMA tried to provide us with some of those thrills; but its genre has seemed unprofitable for so long that modern stuntmen simply aren't building the skills necessary to pull off first-class western stunts.

And that's too bad, because the western genre still has so much to offer. 3:10 TO YUMA, while a remake, stays fresh, compelling, and exciting up to the very end. Though it stumbles with a leaden confession late in the game, it delivers fine western action and he-man pathos throughout. It's more TOMBSTONE than OPEN RANGE, and that's ok. Here's a movie that just wants to entertain us, and it succeeds.

{hesitates ... hesitates ... aw, to heck with it}

Catch this movie.

Persona

This week, I'm alone on a business trip. Celebrating my fleeting freedom of action, last night I permitted myself a rare indulgence: a tumbler of Maker's Mark bourbon, a Cuesta Rey cigar, and Ingmar Bergman's PERSONA. It was a tough decision. The local Cineplex is showing 3:10 TO YUMA and SHOOT ‘EM UP, both of which I’d like to see on the big screen. But I don’t often get the chance to watch a whole Bergman movie uninterrupted, and I couldn’t pass it by.

I chose well. While I’m confident that I’ll enjoy 3:10 TO YUMA and SHOOT ‘EM UP when I get around to seeing them, I’ll be shocked if either movie turns out to be as flat-out entertaining as PERSONA. Yep, an hour and a half of two women alone in a summer house, with one of the women uttering exactly one line of dialogue, makes for riveting, consuming cinema – the kind of cinema that makes you forget what time it is, where you’re sitting, even who you are. Bibi Andersson and Liv Ullman are just that interesting.

PERSONA begins with a series of WTF images that may explore the history of cinema, the deepest churnings of the unconscious, or even the flotsam and jetsam from which we pull together an identity. From another director, I’d dismiss it as so much self-important wankery, but I’ve seen enough of Bergman’s films to trust the guy’s mastery of dramatic narrative. Thus, I was willing to go where it took me, into a mind-state of disequilibrium and expectation. From there, we meet Ullman, a famous actress who, mid-performance, has chosen to give up interaction with the world and, instead withdraw into herself. Ullman has a fascinating face that, while not exactly beautiful, invites contemplation. What’s happening behind those eyes? How deep is her despair? What does she see that the rest of us don’t? These questions come to consume Andersson, a young nurse assigned to Ullman who agrees with a doctor’s suggestion that she take her patient to the doctor’s beach house for a long recovery (Note: if this is what universal health care looks like, sign me up!).

Once at the beach house, we enjoy a pair of remarkable performances: Andersson all talk and existential longing, and Ullman, all contemplation and, perhaps, wisdom. When a violation of trust collapses the roles and walls between them, PERSONA gives us a brilliant exploration of the nature of identity and the quest for, well, something.

PERSONA is beautiful to watch, another successful collaboration between Bergman and his cinematographer, Sven Nykvist. The combination of light and shadow, image upon image, and simple physical composition makes PERSONA a film that surprises and delights from beginning to end.

It’s a whole different kind of entertainment from the offerings down at the multiplex, but it’s flat-out magnificent. I loved every frame.

Scooby-Doo

Some movies have "disaster" written all over them. Take an old cartoon, mix in some minor-league actors, and modernize the
proceedings with a generous sprinkling of "hip" contemporary references, and you have a movie that can't possibly go right.
SCOOBY-DOO is such a movie.

Perhaps the greatest mystery is how this certain trainwreck turned out to be a fun, enjoyable picture. The picture begins with a sequence straight out of the vintage cartoons, then adds a few twists to generate dramatic tension. From there, it's on to the next mystery and the inevitable, "And it would've worked, too, if it hadn't been for you meddling kids!"

SCOOBY-DOO's cast members sell their roles, it's a pleasure to look at the movie's sets, and the whole thing is much more fun than I'd expected.

What a pleasant surprise!

Babylon 5: The Lost Tales - Voices in the Dark

BABYLON 5: THE LOST TALES - VOICES IN THE DARK is a direct-to-video movie, but I'd apply the term "movie" rather loosely. It's more like a couple of episodes stitched together. Your tolerance for this will depend, in large part, on your tolerance for B5 in general.

If you like B5, you'll find plenty to enjoy in VOICES IN THE DARK. Some of our familiar friends got back in shape and it's always nice to see them again. The dialogue they're forced to recite still has that charming combination of earnestness and pulpiness. The CGI got an upgrade, and who doesn't love those wacky alien hairstyles?

If you're not a fan, there isn't much for you here. This movie assumes familiarity with the series and, though the stories are straitforward enough to understand, you'll spend at least some of your time thinking, "They're alluding to something, but I have no idea what."

I like the B5 universe. I like its optimism, and I like its makeshift qualities. Although VOICES IN THE DARK seems unlikely to win over many new fans, I do hope it sells well enough to merit further DTV outins for these fine folks. I'd like to keep tabs on what they're up to.

Vacancy

So this is how the career path goes: break out with an international success, accept an invitation to Hollywood, and make your bones as a commercial director in genre fare such as VACANCY.

At least, this is how it's going for Nimród Antal, the Hungarian director of 2003's remarkable KONTROLL. Where KONTROLL was haunting, dreamlike, and rather puzzling, VACANCY is a straightforward horror thriller whose every beat will seem familiar to anyone who has ever seen a picture that begins with someone saying, "Why didn't you stay on the interstate?" That said, VACANCY is a very professional "Don't Get Off The Interstate" horror thriller: a step up from MOTEL HELL, though not in the same league as PSYCHO (which it recalls through clever use of 60's-style opening and closing credits).

Here's the setup: Kate Beckinsale wakes up in the passenger seat of a car driving through the toolies in the middle of the night. She turns to her husband (Luke Wilson, who's been going heavy on the electrolytes) and says, "Why'd you get off the interstate?" Things go downhill from there.

And that's it, really. The rest is in the execution, and it's here that Antal proves himself an able craftsman. He finds novel ways to build and maintain suspense, though we all know what's coming next and who'll still be on two feet when the credits roll. He manages to create suitably creepy villains, alternates well between jump-scares and slow burns, and even manages to work in a bit of subtle comedy. In other words, the guy takes a familiar subgenre out of the garage, puts some gas in the tank, and takes it for a fun spin.

But this is Nimród Antal, the guy behind KONTROLL, we're talking about. Next time, I hope they let him get off the interstate.

Safety Last!

While GRANDMA'S BOY may be funnier that SAFETY LAST!, there's no topping the latter's dazzling combination of comedy and acrophobia.

Harold Lloyd is off the Big City to make his mark and earn enough to marry his best girl (Mildred Davis), but things aren't working out so well. He's just getting by and, when Mildred shows up, he needs to find a way to make good on his empty boasts of success. If you care about movies, you know that, somehow, this will end up with Harold dangling from a clockface, high above the city. How he gets in that predicament, and how he gets out of it, is great fun.

And there's plenty of fun to be had throughout SAFETY LAST!. Lloyd's character is so gosh-darn charming that you can't help but root for him, and you love to see him come out on top. From a well-executed boarding-house sequence to a near-riot in a department store to Lloyd's vertiginous climb to that clock face and beyond, the comedy, both situational and gag-oriented snaps.

Most impressive, perhaps, is that famous climb to the clock and beyond. It manages to walk a line between scary and funny, and it had me both chuckling and wincing with acrophobia from start to finish. What a treat.

SAFETY LAST! is out on DVD, and the print looks fantastic. Put this movie at the top of your queue.

Babel

THE TRANSPORTER 2 is a better moviegoing experience than BABEL.

BABEL teaches us that guns are bad: look for a young Moroccan boy destroying a gun in a climactic fit of fury, sadness, and despair. THE TRANSPORTER 2 teaches us that guns are for losers: real men use car-fu, firehose fu, bead curtain fu, sword fu, lead pipe fu, axe fu, coconut fu, boat fu, and Gulfstream IV fu, just to name a, er, few. BABEL features heartbreaking turns from a brilliant cast featuring Cate Blanchett, Gael Garcia Bernal, and some cat from SNATCH. THE TRANSPORTER 2 features evil foreigners, anorexic models, and some cat from SNATCH kicking people in the face. BABEL features a girl in a schoolgirl outfit flashing her Britney at random Japanese schoolboys. THE TRANSPORTER 2 featurs a girl in a schoolgirl outfit who jacks cars with a gang of cartoonish thugs. And speaking of girls, all BABEL can give us is a clothing-challenged girl weeping on her father's shoulder, while THE TRANSPORTER 2 delivers a clothing-challenged girl in heavy mascara wielding dual automatic weapons and laying down the aforementioned bead curtain fu.

All kidding aside, BABEL is two hours of the anticipation of horror, horror, and despair. Its painfulness is outweighed only by its heavyhandedness, with self-absorbed first-worlders weighed against salt-of-the-earth second-worlders. Not only did I feel that this film was trying to manipulate me into a decidedly unpleasant emotional place, but I thought that it was doing so dishonestly. And really, enough of these "hyperlink films." I liked SHORT CUTS as much as the next guy, but there's no joy in discovering the connections the film lays out before us. Just tell me a story, goshdarnit. Entertain me. Teach and enlighten me if you can, but don't preach at me. And if you can manage it, try and mix in a little cocounut fu. Coconut fu does wonders for any film.

Serenity

I watch very little TV. "Baseball Tonight," "The Daily Show," and "The Colbert Report" are pretty much it. When it comes to narrative entertainment, I prefer films - they're a fully self-contained experience.

So I never saw "Firefly" when it aired. I never saw it on cable. I saw it only when a friend was certain I'd like it that he drove to my home, dropped off the series DVDs, and told me to call him once I'd seen them all. And you know what? I liked it. I really liked it.

I liked the creatively imagined solar system of "Firefly." I liked the blending of American and Chinese argots. I liked that fact that, finally, here was a show about transport guys!

So I was happy to fire up SERENITY when it arrived at my door. I'm sorry to report, however, that it found it to be, well, just pretty good. While the movie tickled my imagination, it didn't quite capture it. There are too many "big moments." The resolution of the mystery surrounding the kung-fu psycho chick wasn't particularly satisfying, and I thought that these people had gone to all this trouble merely to uncover the scandal of the week.

Hey, "just pretty good" isn't all that bad. Catch SERENITY when it shows up on cable. But don't go out of your way for it.

The Transporter 2

The Transporter 2 takes direct aim at your inner child and gives it everything it could possibly want. If, that is, your inner child is a 15-year-old boy.

Fortunately, mine is: I had a great time with TT2. It's basically action porn, with a paper-thin plot just moving us from one set piece to the next. It pays minimal attention to character development or motivation, but it does spend a lot of time lovingly filming cars in various states of speeding, sliding, flying, rolling, and getting shot at. This is a movie that goes easy on the dialogue and heavy on the kicking of people in the face, and I enjoyed every minute of it. Bring on The Transporter 3!

The Flower of My Secret

Ok, here's the deal: Marisa Paredes is a popular romance writer who can't get her serious novel, written under a different name, published. As she describes the manuscript, we learn that the story is that of VOLVER. Some of the characters and settings, we see, mirror those in the later film, suggesting that, when viewing VOLVER, we're viewing something created by the protagonist of THE FLOWER OF MY SECRET. I kind of like a world in which VOLVER (2006) and THE FLOWER OF MY SECRET (1995) are part of the same reality, and that makes THE FLOWER OF MY SECRET worth watching for its coolness factor alone.

THE FLOWER OF MY SECRET showcases a clearly talented filmmaker who is still in the process of growing into himself. He directs the story of a talented but fragile woman who's on the road either to breakdown or rebirth, or maybe both, and he does so with empathy for her story and the sparklings of the kind of visual flair we come to expect in his later films. Interestingly, her story isn't quite as compelling as that of Penelope Cruz in VOLVER. Even in Almodovar's world, fiction can be, well, more dramatic than real life. And that's fine. Just keep 'em coming, Pedro.

Chicken Little

If CHICKEN LITTLE is set in middle America, why does the dad speak with a thick Brooklyn accent? The film establishes that said dad went to the same high school as the eponymous chicken, so ya think the accent might have dulled a bit around the edges, ya know? And here's another question: if you're Disney and you're making a decidedly average movie, do you really want to start it with references to THE LION KING and RAIDERS OF THE LOST ARK? Those are some pretty challenging points of reference you're putting out there.

Welcome to my inner monologue as I sit on the couch and watch CHICKEN LITTLE with my seven-year-old, who thinks it's hilarious.

Well, I'm not seven, and this movie had nothing to offer me. It had all the subtlety of a 2x4 to the nose, its music was forgettable, and its characterizations were the epitome of "meh." Am I saying that CHICKEN LITTLE is a bad movie? No, not really. I'm just saying that it's remarkably average. Sure, spend an hour and a half on the couch with it and your kids. But bring a magazine.

Stealth

Some time ago, I wrote a generally positive review of THE GUARDIAN, a bad movie that made the effort to get the little details of military aviation and culture right, thus earning it enough goodwill to overcome its inherent badness. STEALTH, a film about naval aviators flying stealth jets, was made by people who seem to never have met anyone who has ever served in the military in any capacity; further, these people never bothered to read even the most rudimentary book about stealth technology - I'll bet dollars to doughnuts that they don't even know the Smithsonian Air & Space Museum even exists. Thus, it generates so much ill will that its badness gets magnified a hundredfold. The captain of an aircraft carrier (Joe Morton, discarding the last of the credibility earned in BROTHER FROM ANOTHER PLANET) wears a jacket patch for a different aircraft carrier. Another captain (Sam Shepard, paying the bills) wields more power than a 3-star admiral. A naval aviator, when told that his boss has lined up some liberty in Thailand, responds, "But we just got here!" (Here being the aforementioned aircraft carrier.) Note to future screenwriters: when any naval aviator, under any conditions, is told that he's going to Thailand, there is only one possible response: "Giddyup!"

STEALTH begins with an aerial sequence that demonstrates the decided unstealthiness of our heroes' aircraft. They don't even bother to baffle the exhaust ports, guaranteeing infrared signatures that'd be observable from space. From there, we're told that we're in Fallon, NV, where our heroes (Josh Lucas, Jamie Foxx, and Jessical Biel) are putting their birds through their paces. Never mind that Fallon isn't used for that. Next, we see them in town in their whites (another no no), where the guys are charming the ladies at an upscale sushi bar while Biel sits chastely, waiting for her One True Love, presumably, to reveal himself. OK, stop. I've spent significant time in Fallon. This is a town that offers three different kinds of food and two kinds of drink: rare, medium, and well-done steak; and Miller or Bud. By the time the heroes get to the boat, where they stay in CO's staterooms even though they're lieutenants, I'd gone well past suspension of disbelief and into resentment at the film's laziness. And I haven't even brought up its violations of the laws of physics, warfare, geography, and politics.

It's as if the makers of STEALTH set out to make the most aggressively stupid movie they could possibly make. Instead of shooting for themselves or anyone who might be interested, they shot for the broadest cross-section of international box office, making a movie that anyone, anywhere could understand. Problem is, they overshot understandable and wound up in stupid. When the guy who programmed the drone-gone-wild that the heroes defeat (Richard Roxburgh) chides Shepard, "You can't tell it to learn and then tell it who to learn from (sic)! Einstein, Hitler, they're all the same to him," we think, "Thanks for telling me that now, jerkoff, now that you've cashed the check. Where was this wisdom when you were writing up the technical proposal?" And don't get me started on the most lightly guarded section of the Korean border since Sgts. Lee Soo-hyeok and Oh Kyeong-pil spent their nights yucking it up in their shack.

Oh, this movie was beyond ghastly. It was beyond terrible. It was an affront to the very concept of film as an entertainment and artistic medium. I'm sorry it ever turned up on my radar.

The Hunted

What if someone remade FIRST BLOOD, and improved it in the process? We'd have THE HUNTED, a visceral and propulsive film that takes the basic premise of FIRST BLOOD (commando on the run from the law) and improves it by following the chase through both urban and wilderness milieus and punctuating it with exciting, realistic knife fights that add to the drama.

Here's the setup: Benicio del Toro is the commando. Unlike John Rambo, however, he's crazy - so there's that. Tommy Lee Jones is the guy who trained him and now shoulders the task of tracking and capturing him. Oh, yeah - the FBI and some shadowy DoD types get involved, too. But don't worry about that. This is the Benicio and Tommy show, and the two play off one another wonderfully. Jones, of course, is a master of looking like all the world's on his shoulders, and we feel his pain as he tracks down one of "his boys." del Toro, for his part, is very good at "psycho," in that he can both function in society and remain outside of it. Together, they provide all the characterization we need to keep us engaged as they run, jump, hide, fight, and generally battle across 90 minutes of solid, nonstop entertainment.

William Friedkin directed THE HUNTED, and it shows. This is first-class, professional, layered entertainment, professionally done. I enjoyed the heck out of it.