Zoom: Academy for Superheroes

ZOOM: ACADEMY FOR SUPERHEROES is a bitter, cynical movie by and about bitter, cynical people.

It stars Tim Allen as a bitter, cynical former superhero who is kidnapped by bitter, cynical U.S. government operatives and forced to train four unlikeable white kids with superpowers. Do Allen and the kids bond, learn to harness their powers, and both show up the gov’t and overcome the world-threatening villain? C’mon – was this movie made by bitter, cynical people? Of course they do. That’s the formula.

That’s not to say that formulae are bad, as long as they’re executed well. ZOOM is not executed well. Its jokes are lame. Its villains are lame. Its heroes are super lame. Even its special effects, which should be a no-brainer with a major studio film, are lame. This is the movie that gets wrong everything that SKY HIGH got right. Don’t even bother.

Godzilla vs. Gigan

GODZILLA VS. GIGAN is one of the weaker entries in the late '60s - early '70s Godzilla ouvre (Yes, I just used the word ouvre in a review of a Godzilla movie. Sue me.). The monster costumes look worn, the story is boring, and even King Ghidorah can't bring a sense of fun or adventure to the proceedings.

How weak is it? I repeatedly checked my watch during the climactic battle, which seemed like it went on forever. If there's one thing a Godzilla movie is supposed to be about, it's the climactic battle. If a picture can't even sell this one crucial element, it is well and truly lost.

What's the story? I saw this picture a couple of days ago, and already I can barely remember it. Something about aliens taking over the world using Gigan and King Ghidorah, and Godzilla getting in there and saving the day. But the movie just doesn't sell it. The acting is ghastly, the production values low, and the whole thing a general embarrassment.

If you're a Godzilla completist, go ahead and knock yourself out with GODZILLA VS. GIGAN. Otherwise, steer well clear. This thing is a monstrous failure.

Stardust

I just plain adored STARDUST.

It's a Maguffin chase / coming of age story in the world of faerie, but with a twist. The Maguffin is a fallen star; but in this world, fallen stars walk, talk, and look an awful lot like Claire Danes. Where do I sign? The comer of age is a young man (Charlie Cox), who crosses into Faerie to retrieve said star as a token of his love for one Sienna Miller, the prettiest girl in town. But he's not the only one who wants her. There's Michelle Pfeiffer as a refreshingly old-school, ruthless witch who wants to cut out her heart and eat it. And there's Mark Strong as a son of the king: he wants to cut out Claire's heart [i]and[/i] steal her jewelry. And what about the pirate with the familiar-looking mole on his cheek? What's he up to, anyway?

So here's a movie that gives us a number of different threads, managing lightly to skip among them without getting tangled in them. Its villains are menacing without being terrifying, its love interests are well and truly lovable, and it manages to gain and maintain and sweet, lighthearted, wonderful tone from beginning to end.

It's no secret that I'm a sucker for writer Neil Gaiman's artistic viewpoint, and he doesn't disappoint with STARDUST. In a week in which I've been hammered with two dreary movies masquerading as adventures, what a delight to find an adventure as joyful, as imaginative, as lovely as STARDUST. What a winner.

Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End

PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN: AT WORLD'S END (POTC 3, henceforth) isn't very good. It wants to be an exciting, family-friendly adventure, but it begins with the hanging of a child. Now, I now that to somebody in Studio City, nothing says "entertainment" like the twitching feet of a dying juvenile. But I hate to break it to you, buddy: you hamstrung yourself very early on. The stakes are too high here, the villains too villainous, the deaths too real for POTC 3 to be fun. Yet this is a POTC movie, not NO COUNTRY FOR OLD MEN, so it's not like you were going to sell it as a drama.

Early pall aside, POTC 3 makes no sense. It would have us believe that Pax Brittania was a bad thing, that the world is much better off with pirates disrupting the global economy than with trading vessels being able to ply the seas, and that the life of a felon is somehow noble. The earlier POTC movies at least kept the pirates morally ambiguous - here, they're good guys who do a little raping and pillaging in their spare time.

And yet, POTC 3 does have some things to recommend it. The performances are great fun, with Geoffrey Rush and Bill Nighy chewing the scenery with gusto comparable to Johnny Depp. The special effects are magnificent, and the set design is out of this world.

If only the movie hadn't gone so dark so early, it might have swept me away. Alas.

Local Hero

In his review of LOCAL HERO, Roger Ebert writes, "Nothing is more absorbing than human personalities, developed with love and humor." Mr. Ebert is absolutely right, and LOCAL HERO delivers this with just the right mixture of wisdom and generosity.

LOCAL HERO is the sweet, almost whimsical tale of a young oil company negotiator, the seaside Scottish village he's sent to buy, and the love affair between them. I went in half dreading an anti-industrialization screed, but LOCAL HERO knows what it's about far too well to fall into such a simple and obvious trap. Instead, the film uses its running time to create a sense of people and place, allowing us to observe them and it as the negotiator (Peter Riegert, in a role that makes me wonder whatever happened to Peter Riegert) falls in with the village's rhythms. It's a comedy, but not of the knee slapping variety. It seeks to share a smile with us as we cluck over the people we love, and it seeks to make us feel at home in a place we've never been.

There's nothing in LOCAL HERO for my inner adolescent, but my inner adolescent is in time out after leading me into RUSH HOUR 3. LOCAL HERO is the perfect antidote to that inanity: a charming, thoughtful, observant picture about human personalities, developed with love and humor. As Mr. Ebert says, nothing is more absorbing.

Rush Hour 3

Move over, EVAN ALMIGHTY. You have competition for the title of "Worst film of 2007."

At least EVAN ALMIGHTY cared enough about its viewership to condescend to it. It's the filmic equivalent of Meryl Streep telling us to think about the children. By comparison, RUSH HOUR 3 is a three card monte dealer. It's bilking the suckers and moving on, never looking back. I saw it at 3:00 am on an intercontinental flight (Side note: Gulf Air flight attendants wear "I Dream of Jeannie" veils. It's adorable!), so at least it didn't take my money. It did cheat me out of viewing LARS AND THE REAL GIRL, however, so I can at least hate it for that. I think.

Here's the hook: Jackie Chan and Chris Tucker team up once again. This time, they're fighting -- aww, who the hell cares? They're fighting Standard Villain #4, telling lousy jokes, and sleepwalking through the entire film. There are no funny jokes. There are no interesting stunts. There is absolutely no reason whatsoever to see this film, and this is coming from a die hard Jackie Chan fan.

What a disappointment.

Michael Clayton

MICHAEL CLAYTON's biggest sin is that it's just plain boring. The film gives us no reason to root for George Clooney, Tilda Swinton, or anyone else in the film. I didn't care about this guy's life or his problems, and I wound up shutting off the movie right around the beginning of the third act.

Will someone tell my why this is getting critical acclaim (says the only guy on Earth who doesn't hate ZARDOZ)?

Gone Baby Gone

Since I'm unfamiliar with South Boston, I can't comment on the veracity Ben Affleck's vision of that locale and the people who live there. I can, however, say that his portrayal felt sufficiently true that it almost made me forget that I was looking at actors, as opposed to real Dorchester residents.

I say "almost" because right there, in the middle of the movie, there pops up the perfect complement to "The Wire" veteran Amy Ryan: Omar himself, one Mister Michael K. Williams. Here, Williams plays a straight-shooting cop and deliverer of inside dope to hero Casey Affleck. One can hope that, should GONE BABY GONE inspire sequels, Williams's role will grow.

But that's neither here nor there. What matters is that, with GONE BABY GONE, Ben Affleck has gone and crafted a genuinely excellent film. Here's a movie that I thought was finished around halfway through, then took me into completely unexpected territory. Maybe I'm a sucker, but I didn't see any of the later developments coming, and I appreciated the ride and the director's faith in that ride.

GONE BABY GONE looks great, or as great as I suppose South Boston can look. It's well written, well shot, and well performed. Good on you, Mr. Affleck.

The 3 Worlds of Gulliver

THE 3 WORLDS OF GULLIVER is a bright, colorful, child-friendly telling of the Lilliput and Brobdingnag portions of [u]Gulliver's Travels[/u]. Ray Harryhausen handled the special effects far and Kerwyn Matthews offers yeoman's service in this rendition, and it works for its intended audience.

I've managed to get my boy into silent comedy, [i]kaiju[/i], and classic monster movies, but I've been having trouble with those films from what I think of as the "technicolor era." Those riotously colorful pictures from the late '50s and early '60s have a lot to offer, but something about them has been putting him off. Not so with THE 3 WORLDS OF GULLIVER. The bright palette complements the broadly drawn characters, and the broadly drawn characters entertain and (God forbid!) teach.

Is there much there for mom and dad? Not really. If, however, you consider providing introductions to Jonathan Swift and Ray Harryhausen part of your parental duties, this picture kills two birds with one stone.

You could do worse.

The Apple

I’m having trouble getting a handle on THE APPLE.

It’s a rock opera telling of the end time story of the Book of Revelations. It was produced by Yorum Globus and Menachem Goldman (who later made a great deal of money producing cheesy ‘80s action films under their Cannon shingle) and directed by Goldman, with George Clinton helping out with musical duties. It equates David Bowie’s classic glam rock, gender-bending schtick with the Devil, and makes hippies the 144,000 (The same actor plays both the hippie leader and God, who manifests himself to the flower children as the driver of a pimped out Cadillac.). I can only assume that nearly everyone involved with the film was coked out of their minds during the entire production cycle.

Here’s your synopsis: a couple of really sappy ‘70s balladeers (basically The Carpenters, but with less talent. A lot less talent.), get noticed by the Devil, who owns a music company so powerful that it actually controls the government. Mr. Boogaloo (who would later go on to electrify the world of break dancing) tries to seduce the wholesome songsters into the evil world of glam rock, but only one of them bites the (literal and figurative) apple. You can guess which one. From there, it’s a short hop to everyone but the hippies wearing the Mark of the Beast, the fallen seeking forgiveness, God rolling in in that ghastly, tacky Cadillac.

That’s your story, but this is a rock opera. How are the songs? They’re horrible. Unlistenable. Ghastly. Um, really, really bad. The folkies suck. The glammers embarrass themselves. There isn’t a single hummable tune in the whole thing. In fact, the production numbers are so bad that even though they’re the reason for the film’s existence, they feel like interruptions.

But what is THE APPLE trying to tell us? Here’s a movie about Revelation, made by a couple of Jewish guys, that feels like an unholy alliance between the Christian Coalition and the Chicago Seven. It’s the product of a metropolitan film and music industry that feels more at home in Early-‘70s Middle American sexual discomfiture than the free love ethos of the hippies it sanctifies. It stands for nothing that I can see, leaving it a weird mishmash of messages, images, and bad music.

THE APPLE has absolutely nothing to recommend it, whatsoever. Nevertheless, I respect a movie like this more than EVAN ALMIGHTY, my current example of the archetypical mass market product. Golan and Globus failed, but they failed greatly.
There’s some honor in that, at least.

Eastern Promises

What a pleasure to watch a great artist at the top of his game.

David Cronenberg is one of the filmmakers who showed me that the medium could be used for more than assembly-line product. From VIDEODROME to THE FLY to DEAD RINGERS to NAKED LUNCH, here was a guy who was willing to tackle uncomfortable and difficult subjects through characters who felt like real people. Cronenberg made honest, artful but not artsy, films of which anyone could be proud.

He didn’t always connect with popular audiences, however, and it seems that he tried to appeal to mainstream adults with his last two films, the brilliant A HISTORY OF VIOLENCE and his most recent, EASTERN PROMISES. Thing is, for a guy as skilled as Cronenberg, appealing to a mainstream adult audience and selling out are not the same thing. Rather, he has figured out how to make challenging, adult fare with broad appeal. These last two movies are as serious, as legitimate, as anything he’s done. They also pop, keeping the viewer engaged and enrapt from beginning to end.

With EASTERN PROMISES, he kept this viewer engaged and enrapt even after the end. Though this film tells a complete story, that story is one of a chapter in the lives of its characters. But these characters, played by a stellar cast including Viggo Mortensen, Naomi Watts, Armin Mueller-Stahl, and Vincent Cassel, are so compelling that I’ve been spending much of the last 18 hours thinking about how they came to the beginning of the film, and where they went after the ending.

Here’s the hook: Watts is a midwife in a London hospital. When a young Russian prostitute dies on the birthing table, Watts finds the diary in the prostitute’s handbag. Hoping to find the girl’s relatives and place the newborn infant, she has the diary translated. But young Russian prostitutes are not independent, and soon Watts has the attention of the Russian mob. Enter Mortensen, a low-level driver in the organization, and we’re off.

Watts gave a masterful performance. I completely bought her as a lower-middle class Londoner, just as I completely bought Mortensen (also brilliant in HISTORY) as the Russian driver. Speaking of performances, both Armin Mueller-Stahl and Vincent Cassel, both cast against type, absolutely shine in this film. If you’re going to perform on this stage, you’d better bring your A game. They do, and the doubt and unpredictability created by going against the viewer’s expectations of these actors pays off wonderfully well.

I started these comments with my closer, so I can only reiterate it. I would, however, like to add a small explanation of my choice of words. Mr. Cronenberg has worked with the same people for years. The same crew, the same costume designer, the same composer. As far as I’m concerned, they’re all great. There are so many talented people involved in creating a film, however, that it’s easier to anthropomorphize the entire process in the form of one individual, the director, than to detail the individual contributions of all those involved.

Perhaps I should have written that it’s a pleasure to watch great artists at the top of their game. It’s just as true. EASTERN PROMISES is well worth seeing.

Zardoz

Remember that old Star Trek episode where hippies took over the Enterprise? ZARDOZ is the kind of movie those hippies might have made.

It’s a psychedelic science fiction morality tale that’s both deeply grounded in the Western liberal arts tradition and deeply distrustful of it. In the film, the world has gone to hell. Zed, played by Sean Connery, is a horseman and a raider who follows the warrior god Zardoz, who appears to be a giant flying granite head. When Zardoz takes him to an enclave of civilization (as defined by the Western liberal arts tradition), he’s horrified to see beautiful people engaged in intellectual pursuits while, on the outside, barbarians fight, starve, and die in the cold. Kind of like how a Darfur refugee might feel if a giant flying granite head transported him to Saint John’s College.

The Eloi, for lack of a better term, are better than Johnnies, however. First, their women dress like those hippies from Star Trek, but without television’s costume restrictions. That’s right – nearly all the exposition and philosophy in this movie issues from the mouths of partially clad young women. There’s your entertainment value, right there. Second, they’re functionally immortal. Third, their revelry in the western intellectual heritage appears to be confined to works taught in nearly every college prep curriculum in the English-speaking world, so the reasonably educated viewer can indulge in the fantasy that he or she is an Eloi, too.

That’s plenty of fun, and there’s a certain amount of ironic entertainment to be had with the film’s hippie vibe, but there’s something else happening here, too. John Boorman, who wrote and directed this film, is trying to make an art movie with ZARDOZ. The film opens with a Shakespeare-style prologue, given by a Feste-like character who, we later discover, has a deep love for drama. With this prologue, Boorman tells us that ZARDOZ is not supposed to be just another sci-fi romp, but a meditation on the nature of belief, the duality of man, the class system, and the dangers of shutting oneself off from the world. Sure, this is all stuff that H.G. Wells, Fritz Lang, and even Gene Roddenberry hit time and time again, but one can’t deny a certain something about Boorman’s psychedelic take on the material. By the time the Fool commits his last foolish act, we find that we’ve actually bought into the trippy world of ZARDOZ, we actually care about what happens to Zed, and we’re actually thinking about the place of higher learning in a world beset by tragedy.

All this and gratuitous nudity, to boot. Color me surprised: ZARDOZ is actually a good time at the movies. Who knew?

Underdog

UNDERDOG is poorly written, poorly performed, and so incredibly clichéd that no adult could possibly embrace it.

That’s ok. Adults aren’t UNDERDOG’s target audience. My 7-yr-old, on the other hand, thinks it’s terrific. I’ve lost track of the number of times he’s spun it up.

UNDERDOG follows the adventures of a beagle who has gained a variety of superpowers, the ability to speak English, and a psychology remarkably similar to that of a 13-yr-old boy. He’s adopted by Jim Belushi and his son, an unremarkable actor whose name I can’t recall at the moment. Belushi and the boy never click, and they’re unable to sell the idea that they’re related. There are love interests for dog and boy, I couldn’t buy them, either. In fact, I couldn’t buy any of the relationships or characters this film offered.

But at least Peter Dinklage and Patrick Warburton, who play the villains, realize that they’re in a movie that isn’t trying to sell actual human relationships or concerns. They tear into the scenery with gusto, creating such fun (and evil but ultimately nonthreatening) villains, that they alone make this film bearable for mom and dad.

Yes, UNDERDOG has bodily-function jokes. Yes, UNDERDOG has silly sight gags. Yes, UNDERDOG has a giant bundle of dynamite with one of those red digital countdown timers. And yes, UNDERDOG is a shameless product designed to entertain kids while allowing their parents to indulge in a bit of nostalgia. But who am I to condemn it? I loved THE SHAGGY D.A. when I was my son’s age, and he’ll have to sit through similar pap when he has kids of his own.

So, UNDERDOG. There it is. If your kid’s a dog person, he or she will love it. You’d do well to bring a book and peek over the top when the villains are onscreen. Mom and dad, sometimes you’ve got to take your victories where you can find them.

No, really - I still watch movies

Well, not that many right now, actually. I'm doing a great deal of travelling for work, and I just can't get to the computer as often as I'd like. Come back in a few more weeks, and I'll be up and running again.

Scooby-Doo 2: Monsters Unleashed

Some time back, I wrote this about SCOOBY-DOO: "Perhaps the greatest mystery is how this certain trainwreck turned out to be a fun, enjoyable picture."

SD2, while not a trainwreck, is bigger, louder, and not nearly as much fun. It falls victim to the sequel's standard pitfall: it gives us more and more and more of the same, but it doesn't give us much to hook our imaginations.

Bummer.

PS My child laughed all the way through it, so YSMMV. (Your Spawn's Mileage May Vary.)

Capote

Hi gang,

The blog has been running in fits and starts lately. I'm too busy to see many films, much less write about them, but hang in there: I expect to have more time for film in the next few weeks. For now, here are some thoughts on CAPOTE.

The more I think about CAPOTE, the less I like it.

The film utterly absorbed me as it unspooled, but in retrospect it
seems like a fabulous confection. It looks great and it tastes
wonderful on first bite, but once I start chewing, there's nothing
there. So Capote is just like Perry. I get it. What else have you
got?

The Kid

The new year is barely two weeks old, and I already have a movie memory for the ages.

There's a scene in THE KID during which the '20s equivalent of Child Protective Services shows up to deliver young Jackie Coogan from the loving squalor of life with tramp Charlie Chaplin. It's heart-rending stuff, as the kid screams for the only father he's ever known and the tramp tries everything he can think of to save his son. I was into it, as I always am, but I took a moment to glance over and see how it was working for my seven-year-old.

He was horrified and heartsick and totally, completely captivated. I won't forget the look on his face as he whispered, "Go, go!" for a long time.

Later, there was laughter, and the ending sewed everything up nicely. But what a delight to see THE KID capture the imagination of my kid, as it has mine for so many viewings. Surely, this film deserves its place in the canon.

What I Thought About What I Saw: 2007

Since I rarely see movies in the theater, I haven’t had a chance to catch up on the year-end Oscar bait. That said, here are my top and bottom ten for 2007. The competition for “worse” was fierce this year, but “best” was easy, as one film far outpaced the rest.


1. RATATOUILLE
In a year as good for movies as any I can remember, RATATOUILLE shines as a lovely, multilayered story, a compelling argument for criticism, and a remarkable technical achievement. I thought this film was doomed from the first promo reel – who cares about a rat that cooks? Boy, was I wrong. RATATOUILLE does everything right, and it’s a film that with genuine, earnest appeal for every member of its audience. In short, it’s a masterpiece.

2. SUPERBAD
I started laughing about thirty seconds into SUPERBAD, and I didn’t stop until the end credits rolled. Then I went out and discussed the film with friends, and I laughed for another two hours. SUPERBAD’s comedy does not derive from silly costumes or outrageous gags. Rather, it derives from its characters; people who, while comic, still feel authentic. I enjoyed the hell out of my ride with them, and I look forward to taking it again.

3. 1408
In a genre filled with slashers who are no more terrifying than anything else we might read about on the front page of the Washington Post, what a pleasure to find a well-executed ghost story. Not only did 1408 genuinely scare me, but it delivered delicious residual scares on my next hotel stay. I went into this movie with zero expectations. What a pleasant surprise.

4. BLACK BOOK
Say what you will about the moral codes of its characters, BLACK BOOK excels at first creating tension, then ratcheting and ratcheting until our hearts are in our throats. BLACK BOOK works as a thriller, as a study of people under duress, and as an astonishing U.S. debut for Dutch star Carice van Houten. I’d gladly see it again.

5. SURF’S UP
I expected SURF’S UP to be a moderately entertaining kids’ movie about talking penguins. I was surprised and delighted to find that it’s a genuinely funny and creative kids’ movie that had three generations of my family laughing out loud. SURF’S UP is smart, fun, and funny. Combine those qualities with beautiful CGI, and you’ve got yourself a first-class film.

6. ZODIAC
I’ve had it with serial killer movies and police procedurals. I’m not into the fetishization of murder, and there’s no glamour in police work that I can see. It would seem that David Fincher, director of ZODIAC, feels the same. He takes a film that could be serial killer movie, or a simple procedural, and turns it into an examination of the obsession, influence, and the thin, thin margin between historic success and devastating personal failure. ZODIAC captures its time and its people and, though long, races by and never lets go of our imaginations. This is a film that’s well worth seeing.

7. SERAPHIM FALLS
SERAPHIM FALLS is a western that takes westerns seriously. It nails the small details of the Mountain West, and its unique take on pursuit and revenge engages the mind and heart. I believed in Brosnan and Neeson’s characters, I believed in their world, and I couldn’t believe my eyes or ears when John Huston’s daughter showed up and actually said, “A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do.” This film did not deserve to vanish.

8. BLACK SNAKE MOAN
Here’s another film that disappeared unjustly. I think the whole “Samuel L. Jackson keeps that girl from THE ADDAMS FAMILY chained up in his house” angle didn’t attract the dating crowd, and that was a real shame. BLACK SNAKE MOAN, from the director of HUSTLE & FLOW, represents an authentic voice from the American South telling a story about his people and his world. This film made me reevaluate Christina Ricci and supporting actor Justin Timberlake, and it confirmed Samuel L. Jackson’s status as one of the best American actors (in films where he’s actually paying attention).

9. 300
300 takes “over the top” and goes over its top, giddily piling visual on top of visual as it tells the story of Sparta’s defense of the Hot Gates, a strategic chokepoint, from assault by the vast armies of Persia. 300 loves the movies: it loves lighting, and music, and digital manipulation of image and sound to mine the most effect from every moment of its screen time. Further, it’s educational: before watching this movie, I had no idea that Spartan warriors took regular injections of vitamin B-12.

10. Vitus
VITUS tells the story of a boy so brilliant, not even the film is certain how brilliant he is. With the help of his grandfather, Bruno Ganz, Vitus must find his place in a world not designed for those as remarkable as he. While this movie started like a Swiss rehash of SEARCHING FOR BOBBY FISCHER, it went in a different direction that both surprised and delighted me. Of all the film I’ve seen this year, I’ve made people sit down for only two of them: VITUS and RATATOUILLE. That ain’t bad company.


10. BLADES OF GLORY
An intermittently funny riff on the world of figure skating, BLADES OF GLORY’s premise got stale in the first act. Everything it tries to do, SOUTH PARK: BIGGER, LONGER, UNCUT did better with just one song.

9. SMOKIN’ ACES
SMOKIN’ ACES wants to be loud, frenetic, and dazzling. It’s just loud. I didn’t care about any of the characters onscreen, so I didn’t care about the action the film was designed around. SMOKIN’ ACES promises guns, ‘splosions, and plenty of gratuitous nudity. But without characters worth investing in, what’s the point?

8. FANTASTIC FOUR 2: RISE OF THE SILVER SURFER
Both this film and the next suffer from the handicap of having been viewed while sitting in Coach on a long transpacific flight: surely not the intended venue for these large-scale, summer blockbusters. Fantastic Four 2 is ok enough, I suppose. It has a few amusing moments, and the world is duly saved, but I just couldn’t bring myself to care about these people.

7. HARRY POTTER AND THE ORDER OF THE PHOENIX
Not only did I see this one on a plane, but I made the mistake of reading the book just a couple of weeks prior. ORDER OF THE PHOENIX left me focusing mostly on what was left out from the dour, troubling book. Unfortunately, it seems that what was left out was levity. This movie felt like drudgery, not my idea of a good time.

6. THE HOST
THE HOST is a Korean take on the monster movie, and it features a wonderfully realized, legitimately scary monster. Unfortunately, that monster upstages the hero of the movie, a ne’er do well dad frantically searching for his daughter (last seen in the clutches of the beast). Beyond the sympathy of paternity, THE HOST gave me no way to identify with the father, and thus no way to fully engage with the story.

5. SHOOT ‘EM UP
I may be the only guy on Earth who still doesn’t “get” Clive Owen. Sure, I liked him in those BMW shorts, but he has left me cold in every single role in which I’ve seen him since. SHOOT ‘EM UP, a nihilistic thrill ride with a treacly and intellectually dishonest twist-premise, gives us Mr. Owen as a modern gunslinger on an adventure with a body count to rival that of any video game. Here’s another premise that sounds like fun, but the movie’s such an unrelenting downer that it’s more like an hour and a half of bitterness. One bright spot is Paul Giamatti in the villain role to end all villain roles, but one actor cannot save an entire production. What a shame.

4. TMNT
TMNT, apparently entitled for people who can’t yet read the words “Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles” gives us a bunch of cartoon characters on an adventure. Unfortunately, the move assumes that we already know who these characters are and why we should have a rooting interest in their success. Further, the movie assumes that we should root against the bad guy because he’s, well, the bad guy, without giving us any sense of what makes him so much worse than other conquerors before him. Hey, my kid enjoyed TMNT, but the kids’ movies have something to offer parents, as well. TMNT didn’t bother.

3. BALLS OF FURY
Thanks to BALLS OF FURY, my wife need no longer be jealous of Maggie Q, an actress so overexposed in this movie that she comes out as thin as tissue paper. But that’s a minor quibble. The worst thing about BALLS OF FURY is that it’s a comedy without a single laugh. It sets up ridiculous situations, costumes, and characters, then expects us to laugh because of all the trouble it has gone to. Problem is (and I’m beginning to sense a theme in this post), BALLS OF FURY gives us no one to believe in, no character who seems real enough to invite us to suspend our disbelief and follow him or her on a journey. And when we don’t believe in the characters, even in a broadly comic way, we’ve got nothing. I saw this one for a buck-fifty at a military theater, and I felt that I’d been cheated.

2. EVAN ALMIGHTY
EVAN ALMIGHTY was neck-and-neck with HOT ROD for last place honors, but it takes second place because at least it made me care enough to hate it. EVAN ALMIGHTY is the worst kind of activism-lite bullshit for the masses, a comedy that feels more like a civics lesson given by a really lousy and self-satisfied teacher. It has an utterly predictable, insultingly bland by-the-numbers story, an insulting subtext, and a knowing, superior smirk that makes me want to slap it across the face. Not even the charisma trifecta of Morgan Freeman, John Goodman, and Steve Carell can save this ghastly film. When my kid laughed at it, it made me wonder if he was really my son.

1. HOT ROD
When I was a teenager, I attended a high school production of “Oklahoma!” that starred a girl I wanted to date. After the show, she asked me what I thought. I gave her my honest opinion.

Having learned from that mistake, I now stick to comments like, “I’ve never seen anything like it,” and “Wow! You’ve given me a night to remember!”

But I’m not trying to date anyone associated with HOT ROD. If I had been, I would have stopped after sitting through this woeful waste of time, energy, and resources. HOT ROD isn’t even hateful, like EVAN ALMIGHTY. It’s just painfully dull, like an amateur’s first shot at putting comedy sketches on film. Its jokes fall flat, its lead actors can’t act, and nothing about this film is remotely interesting. Do not see this film.

And that’s it, folks. I can’t wait ‘til the end-of-the-year stuff hits DVD so I can see all the prestige pictures. Even so, I had a hard time whittling all the good 2007 films I’ve seen to just a top ten. Its been a great year for movies, and I look forward to 2008.

Ninotchka

NINOTCHKA demands that the viewer fall in love with Greta Garbo. I did not, and the film never rose above the level of amusing diversion because of it.

Here's the setup: Ninotchka's a mid-level Soviet apparatchik sent to Paris to complete the sale of a set of royal jewels. But hey, it's Paris. Who can't fall in love in, and with, Paris? Will Ninotchka loosen up and live a little? Will she accomplish her mission? Will capitalism defeat the tyranny of communism? Aw, hell - you know the answers to all those questions, so the only real question is whether you want to go along for the ride.

Problem is, Ninotchka is distant, brittle, and unwise. While watching her adventure, we get the sense that the actress playing her is smarter than she is, is perhaps smarter than us, and is merely shovelling it out for mass consumption. There is no spell, there is no magic, and there's barely even Paris.

What a drag.

The Last Starfighter

THE LAST STARFIGHTER is better than STAR WARS. It's as much better than STAR WARS as Robert "A pool table! Dontcha understand?" Preston is than Alec "Man, there's nothin' I love more than buildin' bridges!" Guinness.

The movie opens with a young Lance Guest, trailer park teen, defeating a video game called "Starfighter." Wouldn'tcha know it, the thing's actually a recruiting tool for some interstellar navy, and guess who's doing the recruiting? That's right, Robert Preston: a guy who could sell sand to Arabs, sell salt water to Tahitians, sell a woman as a male female impersonator to French club-goers! We're talking about an alien emissary and mentor-figure with more charisma in his hairpiece than the entire cast and crew of STAR WARS has en toto. When Robert Preston tells you to go man up a spaceship and save the galaxy, buddy, you go.

Pay no attention to the fact that the film's special effects make Season One of "Babylon 5" look like the new "Battlestar Galactica." Pay no attention to the fact that Villain #1 is just plain silly. Instead, groove on the excellent prosthetic work, the sense of goofy fun, the awesome closing line of Villain #2, and the fact that, unlike Luke Skywalker, Lance Guest's Alex Rogan is actually going to close the deal with the romantic lead. Oh, and groove on Robert Preston in his final Big Screen role, hamming it up, having a great time, and, yes, saving the galaxy.

THE LAST STARFIGHTER is a success. It does all the things it sets out to do, and it hits all the right notes in so doing. This is a neat movie.