2007: Year in Review

Kirsten Sheridan's directorial debut is a modern-day fairy tale - a thoughtful, unabashedly sentimental and (at times) melodramatic contrivance that only the most hard-hearted cynic could turn away from. Freddie Highmore ("Finding Neverland") plays Evan, an orphan with a gift for creating music based on the confluence of sounds he hears around him. He is convinced his parents - an Irish guitarist (Jonathan Rhys-Meyers) and a concert cellist (Keri Russell) - are still alive and could find him if they could only hear his music. He runs from the orphanage he grows up in, pursued by a kind case worker (Terrence Howard) and comes to New York City, only to be scooped up by the Wizard (Robin Williams), an exploitation artist who runs an unofficial home for young street performers in an abandoned theater. Renamed "August Rush," Evan takes to the streets, hoping to some day make the music that will draw his parents to him. This owes way more than a bit to Charles Dickens' "Oliver Twist," with Williams playing the Fagin-role and August the proverbial Oliver, but there are some differences. Nevertheless, this is a well-made and just plain nice film from the daughter of the great Irish filmmaker Jim Sheridan.

Innocuous, inoffensive "comedy" about a former ping pong whiz kid who grows up to be a pudgy orphan working the Reno casinos with ping pong trickery to pay rent. He gets approached by an FBI agent (George Lopez) to infiltrate a ping pong tournament ("sudden death" takes on a new meaning here) at the secret hideaway (in Central America) of the mysterious Feng (Christopher Walken, in the only flat-out laugh-inducing role in the film) and falls for his trainer's (James Hong, above this) daughter (Maggie Q). Silly, stupid, but watchable. Co-written by Thomas Lennon, who appears here fresh from RENO 9-1-1: MIAMI - THE MOVIE (the adaptation of his Comedy Central TV show), but never living up to the absurd humor of that series.

Eran Kolirin's winsome fable is a warm, quietly charming human comedy which remembers with great clarity and attention to detail, a time not so long ago when a group of men from one culture spent a night with members of another culture and found commonalities between them. Lieutenant-colonel Tawfiq Zacharya (Sasson Gabai) is the hard-nosed, dour and serious conductor of the Alexandria Ceremonial Police Orchestra, which has traveled from Egypt to perform a special concert at the opening of the new Arab Cultural Center, only to wind up stranded in a similarly-named, small desert town somewhere in Israel. The band leader, along with a tall ladies' man named Haled (Saleh Bakri), is invited to sleep at a diner owned by the dark, beautiful Dina (Ronit Elkabetz). The rest of the band are taken in at a small, nearby apartment occupied by Dina's associate. Throughout the night, time will pass, conversations will lead to careful observations and surprising discoveries of similarities between the Israelis and the Egyptians, and Dina and Tewfiq will find more in common than perhaps any of them. These two are slogging through middle age, with the old, widowed Tewfiq's life starting to wind down, grounded by years of conformity to discipline and order, and Dina's life just coasting by, never quite living up to any sort of expectations. The landscape around them and writer-director Eran Kolirin's easy-going pacing reflect the "seriousness" of the story; there is no action here, no big laughs, no grand dramatic payoffs, no great points to be made. The film never forces itself. What we get instead is a gently funny and surprisingly moving portrait of how two "enemies" (neither of whom would harm a fly) came together for one night and got along. There's something beautiful and endearing about it. This is one of the year's best films.





NOTE: The film was nominated for Best Foreign Film at the 2008 Independent Spirit Awards.

Perhaps the most famous and beloved female author of all time, young Jane Austen wanted to write of "affairs of the heart." It is these sorts of affairs which inform her writing of perhaps her most adored book "Pride and Prejudice," or so asserts this lighter-than-air romantic drama - a biography of the great British writer, from director Julian Jarrold ("Kinky Boots"). Anne Hathaway leads a wonderful cast in this sumptuous adaptation of a recent biography by Jon Spence, via a screenplay by Sarah Williams and Kevin Hood. The words are lyrical and lovely, the scenery lush and vibrant. A sweet, enjoyable time.

Sidney Lumet's latest masterpiece, made at the age of 83 (which should not make a difference by the way) reveals an American master in top form. This brilliant, twisted and twisting crime thriller has a plot I don't want to spoil (the trailers and reviews will tell you more than I). Ethan Hawke and Philip Seymour Hoffman are brothers down on their luck; they both need money (and as Danny DeVito once said via David Mamet: "Everybody needs money! That's why they call it money!"). They plot a jewelry store robbery. The robbery quickly goes awry (to say the least!), and we see various leap-froggings through the chronology and points of view, which differ occasionally from sequence to sequence. For Sidney Lumet, who made such tough New York films as "Dog Day Afternoon" (1975) and "Serpico" (1979), this is a personal triumph. The screenplay by first-timer Kelly Masterson is like a puzzle, where you know the main picture going in, and the Devil's in the details of all the smaller pieces. Without giving anything away, I will say that, unusual for a "crime picture," this film has a strong emotional core, which makes for an astonishingly devastating experience. The cast is exemplary, with Hawke as the disheveled deadbeat father who loves his family but can't pull it together. There's Marisa Tomei as Hoffman's dissatisfied wife, and Albert Finney, heartbreaking as their father. As the situation snowballs out of control and the two brothers get in further and further over their heads, watch Hoffman's face - the distortions he makes on his forehead, and the pain in his eyes tells it all. The old man sitting a few aisles ahead said, as he rose from his chair at the film's end: "There wasn't a single character I liked in that thing!" Not the point, sir! Not the point! This was one of the year's best films. NOTE: For a more recent example of ostensibly the same basic concept, see Woody Allen's "Cassandra's Dream" (2008) with Ewan McGregor and Colin Farrell as two British brothers in a similar predicament. Not as strong, but interesting for contrast's sake.

The third entry in the popular action series based on the novels by Robert Ludlum is the strongest one yet. Matt Damon returns as Jason Bourne, a trained assassin seeking his true identity, revenge for the death of his girlfriend, and a way out of the life that the CIA has created for him. He is surveilled by two CIA higher-ups: a cold, calculating bureaucrat (David Straithairn) and a consciencious and well-meaning veteran (Joan Allen). Coming to his aid again is analyst Nicky Parsons (Julia Stiles), as Bourne makes his way all over the globe, dodging bullets, chasing (and being chased), and defending himself at every turn. Paul Greengrass directed again (he previously made the second film, "The Bourne Supremacy" in 2004, as well as 2006's 9/11 saga "United 93") and shows a great deal of intelligence coupled with riveting style in weaving his tale; it's a virtually non-stop action ride. I believe what elevates this part above the rest of the trilogy is the acting, particularly by Allen and Straithairn as two government agents working together for a common goal who come to a fork in the road and have to decide who and what they really are. Albert Finney is quite good as well, late in the film, as the doctor who "created" Bourne. All in all, this is a superior continuation of a series that may be the successor to the legacy of James Bond.

Here is a film that means well and trips head over foot on its own eagerness to please. This is a tearjerker, not without a scintilla of attempts at humor, that exists in some Hollywood-generated alternate universe where things that are impossible not only can and do happen, but where we're meant to be comforted by their improbable success. It ultimately feels just a bit too much like a well-oiled machine, and not enough like it comes from the heart; it's more like it took a detour through a few too many rewrites on its way through the chest cavity of sincerity. As the film opens, Carter (Morgan Freeman), an elderly black mechanic with extensive knowledge of the answers on "Jeopardy," tells us all about the death of his friend Edward Cole (Jack Nicholson), and my first thought is: Here's yet another movie with Freeman narrating, and another in the subgenre of black men helping aging white people find peace, among other things; many of these films appear to star Freeman ("The Shawshank Redemption," "Driving Miss Daisy," "Million Dollar Baby"). Seems Edward is a successful entrepreneur who owns a chain of hospitals. It is with irony then (or contrivance) that he will soon be bed-ridden in one of his own hospital rooms, in the somewhat early stages of cancer, and that Carter will be his roommate, in the same boat. It takes about the first third of this 97-minute slog to introduce these two guys to us and each other before the title's relevance (which is in the trailer) kicks in: they'll put together a "bucket list" of things they want to do before they "kick the bucket" ("Cutesy," quips Edward). They'll travel the world, try things they never experienced but always wanted to, and live out their last weeks in total freedom. Nice idea, no? all against the advice of Carter's nursing veteran wife Virginia (Beverly Todd), and with no input from the young doctor (Rob Morrow) or Edward's mildly acid-tongued (and, we sense, long-suffering) assistant, whom he calls Tommy (Sean Hayes), but whose actual name is Matthew, incidentally. Along the way, they'll touch on all the biggies: faith in God (or Edward's lack thereof), marriage (Edward's many failed ones), the regrets of absentee fathering (Edward's again), and the "meaning of it all." What makes this movie, if anything does, are the performances by Nicholson and Freeman; they have such gravitas that they never completely drown in any form of dreck. Freeman has that elegance and majesty that he brings to every role where he's playing a wise old black man aiding a stupid old white dude (remember, he played God...twice!). Nicholson has an ability to play a smarmy, cranky old codger without ever totally losing his charm or humor - even when the script doesn't afford him any; indeed, here he seems to be somewhat channeling his memorable jerk from James L. Brooks' "As Good As It Gets" (1997). I even kind of liked Sean Hayes as the assistant, who never precisely catches fire as it were, but manages to get a decent one-liner or two in under the radar. The film, directed by Rob Reiner, comes from a screenplay by Justin Zackham. I know nothing of these men apart from their work; in particular, Reiner has been hit-and-miss as a director, to say the least (particularly this decade), ranging from the huge successes of "This is Spinal Tap" (1984), "The Princess Bride" (1987) and "The American President" (1995), through medium level entertainments like "Rumor Has It..." (2005), to the dismal lows of "Alex & Emma" (2003), "The Story of Us" (1999) and "North" (1994). I do know that (on the basis of this film), these men know nothing of the realities of cancer; it's the Ali McGraw syndrome of looking (and feeling) better the sicker they get. This story may be heart-warming and uplifting and inspirational and all that jazz, however, call me a hard-hearted cynic if you must, but the film exists in some sort of cruelly misleading void where the fact is that these two men, with their particular diagnoses of cancer, could not possibly do, in any way, shape or form, what they do, no matter how many kemotherapy treatments they've had. But isn't it nice to daydream?

Writer-director Woody Allen is in his 70s, making film after film (sometimes twice a year; late summer brings the much-buzzed-about VICKY CRISTINA BARCELONA). This middle-of-the-road effort is the master nebish's latest from London: a crime melodrama about upper-middle-class working stiff brothers (Ewan McGregor as the calm, cool one and Colin Farrell as the gambling addict basket-case). They're in debt up to their ears and find an opportunity when a well-off uncle (Tom Wilkinson, great as always) asks them for a favor - kill a blackmailing business associate (Phil Daniels). As Farrell and McGregor get in over their respective heads, Allen gets deeper and deeper into CRIMES AND MISDEMEANORS and MATCH POINT territory (echoes, never reaching those heights). This film resembles Sidney Lumet's BEFORE THE DEVIL KNOWS YOU'RE DEAD, recalling yet never quite achieving that film's grand guignol/Greek tragic proportions in the end. The film is slow and not too dark (nor too witty), with an abrupt and realistic ending that's missing a shot or two (an auteur's choice if ever there was). Good Allen fare.

J.P. Schaefer's film is a would-be fascinating take on the demented mind of a murderer, which ultimately fails to shed a scintilla of light on its subject. Mark David Chapman (an almost unrecognizably overweight Jared Leto, from "Requiem for a Dream") was a pale, heavy-set loner who arrived in New York City claiming to be a Beatles fan from Hawaii who just wanted John Lennon's autograph. Fair enough. Except for that he was in fact a complete creep with an apparent obsession with Lennon and with J.D. Salinger's much-beloved and (perhaps?) forever tarnished novel "The Catcher in the Rye," with which Chapman so apparently identified. In particular, he saw himself as being very similar to the hero of that book, Holden Caulfield, who goes to New York to "in a sense, find himself" (just like Chapman) and ends up in a mental hospital narrating the story to the reader (just as Chapman does in this film). The book (as yet unread by me) ends at Chapter 26, so of course Chapman saw his life and the murder he committed (of Lennon, on my mother's birthday: December 8, 1980) as a sort of unofficial "Chapter 27." Along the way, he meets a slightly better-adjusted fan named Jude (Lindsay Lohan), a dark-haired gal who must have some sort of masochistic streak if she sticks around during Chapman's ramblings and rather creepy hints at his darker nature, and there's Paul (Judah Friedlander), a photographer who makes a living selling not-so-candid pictures of celebrities to people. J.P. Schaefer, who wrote and directed, based his film on a book by Jack Jones, which itself was based on interviews with Chapman published in 1992. Much of the film has a sort of shiftless but unsettling tone, complete with "Taxi Driver"-esque interior monologues and rants; we know what Chapman did and there are flashes here and there (perhaps his imagination beforehand) of his crime, but we just watch him, raging below the surface. Jared Leto, who gained much weight for the role, seems to embody Chapman fully - he is overweight, heavily clothed, and immensely creepy. Unfortunately, Schaefer and Jones could only guess at Chapman's motives as he himself knew nothing of why he did what he did - not exactly. Thus, we end up where we started, more or less, with a sick man staring us in the face, talking in a low, soft voice, and trying to make us care about his reasons - whatever they may have been. Not unlike the superior Miguel Arteta-Mike White collaboration "Chuck & Buck" (2000), it is a little like spending 84 minutes with bugs crawling under your skin.



NOTE: The film premiered at the Sundance Film Festival with a 100 minute running time.

Aaron Sorkin adapted the true events (from a book) that shape this story of a Texas Senator in the 70s and 80s whose involvement with the CIA in Afghanistan had a lasting effect on the way that part of the world is now, and our relations to it. Julia Roberts is a Southern belle, a socialite who claws her way into Wilson's world. And Philip Seymour Hoffman gives one of three terrific performances this year as a Greek-American CIA operative working with Wilson to bring a sense of geopolitical law and order to an unstable middle Eastern region (still unstable even now!). History and entertainment blend well in this short, bitter and cutting political comedy from Mike Nichols (PRIMARY COLORS, CLOSER).

A perfect companion piece to Robert Greenwald's Steal This Movie (2000), Brett Morgan's Chicago 10 is a fascinating documentary made of actual footage from the controversial period surrounding the 1968 Democratic National Convention, animated recreations of the court proceedings starring various famous voices as such people as Abbie Hoffman and Jerry Rubin, all scored to music befitting the tone (Eminem, "Sabatoge" by Beastie Boys, etc.). A terrifically entertaining history lesson.

Ramin Bahrani's raw, effective, moving slice of life doesn't just observe its characters, or paint a portrait of their lives - it appears to actually live and breathe them. In an area of Queens, New York known as the "Iron Triangle," a 12-year-old kid named Ale (Alejandro Polanco) is a young street hustler, and when we first meet him he's standing amongst a group of day laborers hoping to be picked for crawl space work for the day. In the shadows of Shea Stadium, Ale has his own little slice of heaven - whether it's re-selling candy bars on the subway, stealing hubcaps and selling them to a semi-shifty garage owner, Ahmad (Ahmad Razvi of "Man Push Cart"), or selling bootleg DVDs to people on the street. The "honest" work Ale does is in a chop shop, helping to strip and fix cars for re-selling. Ale lives in a plywood room behind the auto mechanic's shop with his 16-year-old sister Isamar (Isamar Gonzales), who goes to school, hangs out with her friends, and watches out for her little brother. The film largely concerns Ale and Izzy's attempts to save up enough money to buy a portable cart to cook and sell food out of (playing seemingly a different character with the same name, notice how the actor from "Man Push Cart" muses "I used to have one of those"); they have amusing arguments over whose name should be biggest, who gets to pick the color, and, crucially, who gets to hold the money. The closest thing that this movie gets to a plot is the way it comes to concern the relationship between Ale, the responsible younger brother, and his older sister who is keeping a secret that, when it's discovered, changes the way he sees her. The film was co-written, edited and directed by Ramin Bahrani, an Iranian-American director who previously made the absorbing "Man Push Cart" (2005), about a former rock star from Pakistan now working as a Manhattan street vendor. His characters are ordinary people living on the fringes of society, unseen by the majority of people around them, who have small goals, perfectly capable of being realized, and who want desperately to attain them. The film may remind you somewhat of anything ranging from Satyajit Ray's "Pather Panchali" (of the Apu trilogy), to Boaz Yakin's "Fresh" (1994), from Hector Babenco's "Pixote" (1981) to, more recently, Fernando Mereilles' "City of God" (2002); and yet it is a true original. What is intriguing is that Bahrani's characters are seemingly in search not of a way out of their situation, but simply of another rung up the ladder; their goals are humble, realistic and attainable - if they dream, they do it so subtly they seem to withhold such aspirations even from themselves. In Alejandro Polanco and Isamar Gonzales, Bahrani has found two Puerto Rican kids who embody the film's sense of realism, lending it a documentary quality. Alongside the beautiful but not flashy hand-held camerawork of cinematographer Michael Simmonds, Bahrani and his cast have created a film that feels authentic down to its very bones. This is one of 2007's best films.





NOTE: Nominated for Best Cinematography and Director at the 2009 Independent Spirit Awards. Winner of the 2008 Independent Spirit Award for "Someone to Watch."

Writer-director Quentin Tarantino's very good second half of the 190 minute exploitation double bill "Grindhouse" was released separately on DVD, and is longer and just as uneven as it was before. The film consists itself, of two halves: First, a group of cocky and pot-seeking young 'thangs in Austin, Texas are targeted at a bar by a mystery man in a black car adorned by a lightning bolt print on the hood and a creepy silver duck ornament. The mystery man is Stuntman Mike (Kurt Russell, in typical Tarantino career reinvention mode), a murderous sociopath with a real hate on for all women, seemingly. The first group of girls is highlighted by the gorgeous and intriguingly Brooklyn(?)-accented Vanessa Ferlito and the monotone and fairly bland Sydney Tamiia Poitier (yes, Sidney's daughter!). This stretch is dialogue heavy, culminating in a BRILLIANT car crash sequence set to a little known 70s/80s punk song (there's even a monologue about its origins). Tarantino loves him some talking, so if an initial feeling of deja vu comes over you during the second half, don't fret: Stuntman Mike decides to target a new set of girls - Rosario Dawson, stuntwoman Zoe Bell (as herself; she was Uma Thurman's stand-in for KILL BILL), and Tracie Thoms (of RENT). These girls are tougher, seeking danger even before the "Death Proof" car reaches their tailpipe, and the violent, high-octane revenge-filled climax is exhilirating and satisfying. Stay for the ending credits - just for the great April March song and cutaway inserts!

D.J. Caruso's 2007 thriller stars Shia LaBeouf as a kid who hits his teacher and is soon sentenced to court-ordered house arrest. At first he's bored, he rubs the teacher's relative (the cop who enforces the kid's house arrest) the wrong way, and he begins to notice a mutual attraction (somewhat) with a new girl next door (Sarah Roemer). Another neighbor, a mysterious man who comes and goes at all hours and who seems to have a violent relationship with his women friends (David Morse), soon becomes LaBeouf's suspect in a series of mysterious disappearances and/or murders in the area. But what can the kid do? He's under house arrest! This teenage re-tread of Hitchcock's "Rear Window" (1954) doesn't quite have the craft or wit of the Master of Suspense, but it does have a charming and charismatic lead actor, a credulity-stretching, but never boring or unentertaining plot, and a good cast of mostly unknown or lesser known character actors. In short, Disturbia's a hoot!

Shekhar Kapur's beautiful, if sudsy, sequel to his 1998 biography of the young life of Elizabeth I is as sumptuous as it is frivolous. This time, Elizabeth (Cate Blanchett), flanked by her omnipresent counselor Sir Francis Walsingham (Geoffrey Rush), is trying to juggle the commitment to finding a husband and producing an heir, with the struggle against traitors, threats of assassination, and the attempts at userping the throne from Mary, Queen of Scots (Samantha Morton) and Philip II of Spain (Jordi Molla, from "Blow"). Her romantic prospects are bolstered with the arrival of a pirate named Sir Walter Raleigh (Clive Owen, looking like he's ready to buckle a swash or two). He's infatuated with her, but is also quite taken with Elizabeth's ward "Bess" (Abbie Cornish), and so a powerful love triangle is formed. Blanchett, an Oscar-nominee for the first film, exudes regalness and is sharp of wit, but this time tempers herself with a tinge of no-nonsense, take-no-prisoners seriousness. Perhaps the "Virgin Queen" has finally grown into a woman no man could truly love? The screenplay, by Michael Hirst and William Nicholson, is simplistic at best, historically inaccurate at worst, but essentially this is just a great-looking soap opera set against the backdrop of (slightly?) revisionist history, and the results are intriguing and entertaining. NOTE: Blanchett was nominated for an Oscar AGAIN for the same role in this film in 2007.

Here is a film both paying homage to, and skewering the cliches of Disney films past, a fairy tale for the modern age. As the film opens, we are transported to an animated kingdom somewhere far far away where Giselle, a princess prone to singing and having all kinds of creatures join her in her chores, is soon banished by Queen Narissa (Susan Sarandon), the wicked stepmother of Giselle's beloved Prince Edward (James Marsden). Giselle goes down a well and arrives in a sewer underneath Times Square. Next thing she (and the audience) realizes she's in live action. Soon, Prince Edward follows her with Giselle's faithful chipmunk Pip and the Prince's own nefarious manservant Nathaniel (Timothy Spall, who even animated looks just like him!) in tow, and we're off to the races. But one fateful night, Giselle meets a handsome, single father named Robert (Patrick Dempsey of TV's "Grey's Anatomy"), who is as cynical and jaded as they come - he's a divorce lawyer. Giselle enters his reality and livens up New York City in the process. Of course, Robert is engaged to the not especially bad and really rather fetching Nancy (Idina Menzel), but his young daughter has her sights set on Giselle as a potential new mother. Amy Adams ("Junebug") again plays a vulnerable young woman with a sweet naivety and an infectiously charming disposition; she could (possibly literally) bring the sun out at night. At first, we're wondering if she isn't completely insane; after a while, you learn to go with the flow. Sarandon is suitably evil when she's on screen (she spends most of the film animated and/or as a CGI creation). Timothy Spall can play kind and gentle, low and sadsack, or maliciously evil (see him in Tim Burton's "Sweeney Todd") whenever he sees fit, and slips easily in and out of the audience's favor as the sidekick whose loyalties are somewhat wavering. The direction by Kevin Lima ("Tarzan," "102 Dalmatians") is light and nimble; we're talking feather-light here. I'm not the target audience, but I enjoyed this little fusion of fairy tale cliche and modern sensibilities. It's a crowd-pleasing romantic adventure and a major spotlight for Amy Adams; she really makes this shine.

Werner Herzog's fascinating, absorbing and visually stunning documentary is a feast for the eyes and the mind.

Here is a unique ombnibus horror film that is scarier and better-made in theory than in execution.

Michael Haneke's "Funny Games" (U.S.) is an unsettling stylistic exercise, a darkly funny social commentary, an existentialist nightmare (of sorts), and a bleak, nihilistic vision of the encroachment of evil on ordinary, everyday affluence. In short, a frightening and wickedly pointed tale of voyeurism designed to shock and sicken, implicate and accuse, and ultimately alienate whilst causing serious debate and discussion.



This gorgeously pretentious morsel comes from writer-director Haneke via English-speaking actors such as Michael Pitt (brilliant as Paul, or was it Jerry?), Tim Roth as the assaulted and ineffectual husband George Sr., and Naomi Watts as Ann, the traumatized housewife who first invites pure evil into the home (as personified here by Pitt and Mysterious Skin's Brady Corbet).



Haneke has created basically a shot by shot remake of the original 1997 German version, this time in English and with better actors, yet I'm surprised to find this one with a slightly more obvious (if sick) sense of humor (though you'll be hard-pressed to utter a chuckle too often here), and also more of a clear perspective on what violence as entertainment really is like (and how we as audience members drink it up without thinking of the consequences). Some pointed dialogue toward the end of the film seems to have been added in (I think) about one of the psychotics' heroes, a fictional character whose family was in "reality" and who himself ended up in a fictional alternate universe. The suggestion is made that... well -- see for yourselves!

Martin Hynes' haunting coming-of-age tale is a a fish out of water story, and a road trip, a darkly funny drama and a dour comedy. Mercer (Lou Taylor Pucci from "Thumbsucker") is a smart, sensitive, emotional, quiet, reserved teenager stuck in a virginal dead-end high school existence in Eugene, Oregon. One day, he gets the idea - he's going to wear his friend's uniform to his friend's place of employment (a car wash) and steal a car. Not long into his journey, a cell phone rings. It's the owner of the car. On the other end is the mysterious, sexy-voiced angel Kate (Zooey Deschanel), a sweet and saucy-sounding young gal, vaguely dreamy, with just the slightest tinge of melancholy. Her conversations with Mercer will keep him company, and provide the heart and soul of this film. Mercer, it seems, is on his way to find his long-lost elder half-brother Arlen (Jsu Garcia), who left home years and years ago. Mercer and Arlen's mother has passed away and, of course, Arlen doesn't know yet. Mercer will make many stops along the way, including an integral sojurn to a California commune of sorts where the kindly treatment from a spaced-out girl called Better Than Toast (Judy Greer of "Arrested Development") contrasts sharply with the anger and violence of Nick the Potter (Nick Offerman). Seems Arlen left a bad taste in the mouths of many he came into contact with, as Mercer will soon discover. From there, Mercer gets the idea to go to Nevada and seek out the vaguely naughty ex-classmate from high school Joely (Jena Malone), who he describes as "the kind of girl you would want to take a road trip with." He soon discovers that she wasn't all she was cracked up to be, however, when they hook up with her pal Rid (William Lee Scott). His odyssey will also include run-ins with a traveling liquor supply man (Bill Duke) who gives him some friendly advice, a creepy homemade porn director who calls himself "Sergio Leone" (Julio Oscar Mechoso), a slightly troublesome pet shop owner (Maura Tierney) who is part of a rock band performing community service, and others. His trip will take him from Oregon to California, to Nevada and back to California, and finally to Mexico and Louisiana. Along the way, he may discover what it means to be a man. Martin Hynes, the writer-director, has crafted a thoughtful and sometimes very funny human comedy for his first feature. Hynes, you may recall, played the title character in Joe Nussbaum's much-beloved short film "George Lucas in Love" (1999), a fusion (obviously) of "Star Wars" and "Shakespeare in Love" (1998). As a filmmaker, Hynes is never flashy, but always remarkably confident. He seems to know the world of these characters inside and out and provides us with an accute attention to detail, almost never striking a wrong note. Pucci is a reliable leading man, portraying basically a lovable loser who is the most human and understandable of everyone. Deschanel is flawed but sexy, funny and off-beat, like an independent film fantasy come to life, vaguely recalling her work as the similar Kat on TV's "Weeds." The supporting cast is top-notch, from the seductive bad girl Malone to the amusing Greer to the curious and intriguing Tierney and the informative and inspiring Duke; even Garcia proves to be more than he first appears. Byron Shah's cinematography is great to look at, but never draws attention to itself; its almost documentary-like approach to the material is spot-on. M. Ward's haunting songs pepper the soundtrack and suit the mood perfectly. Ultimately, this is the story of a young man's quest to grow up and as such, it's quite wonderful.

Chris Weitz' children's fantasy epic is about as fun as can be, and then some.

Rob Zombie's "Halloween" (2007) may sound like a frightening proposition - not so much an effective horror film as an abomination of the worst variety... Well, in fact, writer-director Zombie has a few mildly controversial tricks up his sleeve that may titillate those looking for a fresh take on a long-in-the-tooth franchise, or offend wholeheartedly the series' most ardent supporters.

Zombie begins his film on Halloween some time ago as young Michael Myers, a boy of about 13, is living in a hell with his verbally abusive and alcoholic stepfather, his mother (Shari Moon Zombie, continuing the director's obsession with showing off his wife's ass) who is a local stripper, and his two sisters: an older one who isn't very lucky, and a younger one who is just a baby (more on this later).

Michael has been torturing animals, getting into fights, and ultimately beats a boy half to death in the woods. This calls the school to attention and when on Halloween night, Michael goes on a killing rampage in his own home (!), a sequence where Zombie refuses to compromise on the brutality or bloodshed, he is ultimately shipped off to the local insane asylum. There he meets Dr. Sam Loomis, played by veteran thespian Malcolm McDowell, possibly outshining Donald Pleasance here in the now famous role of the doctor who feels almost Frankenstein-ian guilt over his treatment of the troubled youth.

Fifteen years later, withstanding tragedy and years of institutionalizing, Michael breaks out and continues his festive Pagan holiday ritual: killing anyone who gets in his path!

There is a surprise in this movie (of sorts) that makes a perfect sense, but which this reviewer simply didn't see coming. Zombie is a surprisingly good storyteller and has a sure visual sense (probably carried over from his career in music videos), and if this is not an improvement on his pitch perfect horror/black comedy "The Devil's Rejects" (2005), it's at least a vast improvement on his dreadful debut: "House of 1000 Corpses" (2002).

Zombie does an interesting thing with the structure of his film, as if in showing us the childhood of Myers, we can see the building of a monster bit by bit, and actually witness the deterioration of his humanity - which makes him all the more human! In the middle third or thereabouts of this near two-hour stab-a-thon, Zombie borrows heavily from the basic structure and story of the original 1978 Carpenter classic - indeed, one of the best horror films ever made - and in the final third, tries to continue that momentum while merging it with flashes of the original humanity of this horrific monster, reminding us that even the worst people in the world have a background and a story and came from somewhere. Ultimately, if we are repelled and terrified by Michael Myers, in Zombie's hands, we can't help but feel wretchedly sorry for him. This may not be equal to Carpenter's work, but it's damn close. A pleasant (if that is the correct word) surprise!

Xavier Gens' video game adaptation is a high-octane, moderately-successful feature with a scintilla of a story, some cool visual style, and little else. Part of that little else, Timothy Olyphant (of TV's "Deadwood") plays Agent 47, a bald, barcode-tattooed hitman trained by something called "The Agency," who send him all around the world to take care of business in as subtle yet violent a way as possible. Agent 47's latest assignment concerns assassinating the Russian President, Belicoff (Ulrich Thomsen), who appears in public almost immediately after the hit. 47 meets a Russian prostitute/slave named Nika (Olga Kurylenko), who follows him and tries to help when she can. Meanwhile, he's tracked by Interpol Agent Mike Whittier (Dougray Scott), bent on stopping the bloodshed. The film, directed by Xavier Gens ("Frontier(s)") and written by Skip Woods ("Swordfish"), is based on a popular video game and as such, there's a bit more plot than you might expect. I'm no video game afficienado, but I like to think I can tell the difference between a good adaptation and a bad one and this one is passable, if not ground-breaking. Olyphant makes a convincing hitman working for a secret organization, or as convincing as such a character can be, and the film has a certain video game/action movie logic. Its technical credits are top notch, as are its accomplishments - if small-scale. What more do you want?

Here is a comedy as goofy, dumb, well-meaning and surreal as any I can imagine; it's also often very funny. Rod Kimble (Andy Samberg from TV's "Saturday Night Live") is a 27-year-old man-child from Berkeley, California, living at home with his mom (Sissy Spacek) and his mean-spirited, fight-prone stepfather (Ian McShane of TV's "Deadwood"). With his innocent younger half-brother Kevin (Jorma Taccone) and aimless best friends Dave (Bill Hader, also from "SNL") and Rico (Danny R. McBride of David Gordon Green's "All the Real Girls"), Rod stages rather simple, but elaborately-attempted "stunts" with his moped, attempting to live up to the daring heroics of his deceased father, who once took a photo with Evel Knievel. Rod's friends live, apparently, for backing him up, but Rod seems determined to prove to his stepfather that he is a man. Then, Rod's stepfather has a mild stroke and needs a heart-transplant. The transplant will cost $50,000, but more importantly, if stepdad dies, Rod will never get to prove he's a man - by beating his stepfather up. Rod will take various gigs to raise the money, including birthday parties, a show involving the municipal swimming pool, and ultimately a documentary shot by Kevin that causes an unexpected (if inevitable) reaction in the audience - all for the purpose of getting his stepdad back to fighting strength so he can prove he's a man...by beating him up. Rod is not without heart, however - he has a crush on Denise (Isla Fisher), who is inexplicably nice to him, yet who also dates the astonishingly tasteless, well-to-do jerk Jonathan (Will Arnett of "Arrested Development"). The movie was directed by Akiva Schaffer, a writer on "SNL" who is a lifelong friend of Andy Samberg, and written by Pam Brady, and if it's not exactly a technical triumph, the gags come off almost entirely without a hitch. I said before that this was a "well-meaning" film, by which I mean that it is not exactly mean-spirited (this, despite the fact that the plot hinges on the stepdad getting well so his stepson can kick the crap outta him) - somehow, Samberg makes Rod likable for the most part, even though he's kind of a pathetic dork and has no life. I also have to say that Fisher makes her character cute and likable, even if you can't fathom for a second what would attract a girl like that to a guy like Rod - or Jonathan, for that matter. And Ian McShane is hilarious as the stepfather, who made me laugh from the moment he came on screen. I don't want to oversell the qualities of this movie; if it looks good, you'll probably laugh - if not, then not. Go with your gut.

Francis Lawrence's eerie, vaguely futuristic sci-fi/action thriller exists in a New York not terribly far-removed from present day, and as such it is kind of terrifying in its implications. Robert Neville (Will Smith) is a military scientist who, we are informed in the opening, believed he'd found a "Miracle Cure" for Cancer. Unfortunately, the cure had side-effects which result in mutations, causing some to devolve into personality-devoid "vampires" of sorts. Now, New York City has been evacuated and Neville believes he may be the last man on Earth. He has barricaded himself in a house in Greenwich Village with his dog, his only companion. He makes daily patrols through the city, brief sojurns into a video store where he converses with the mannequins he's set up there as faux customers and cashiers, and gives annual radio updates in hopes that, perhaps, someone will hear him. In his basement laboratory, Neville continues to seek a cure - not for Cancer, but for the mutations he has caused. One night, Neville's spirit is broken, and he tries to kill himself by doing a kamakaze drive through an army of vampires to kill as many as possible before they finally kill him. Unexpectedly (and unclearly in method), he is rescued by a young woman named Anna (Alice Braga) and a boy called Ethan (Charlie Tahan). Just as Neville has lost hope for humanity and the future, he runs smack-dab into these two, who believe that a human colony of survivors exists in Vermont; they were traveling there when they saved Neville from his fate, apparently. The trio must now outwit, outrun and outlast the enemy long enough to find a potential cure for the mutations together. The film, directed by Francis Lawrence ("Constantine"), was based on the novel by Richard Matheson ("Stir of Echoes") written in 1954. It has previously been adapted as "The Last Man on Earth" (1964) with Vincent Price, and more famously as "The Omega Man" (1971) starring Charlton Heston. Here, Lawrence uses sound and very little music in the early scenes to create an eerie atmosphere; we believe that New York is evacuated and that Smith may be the only one left - it's very creepy. There are flashes to the evacuation and Smith's gutwrenching decision to part with his wife and daughter (Salli Richardson and his real-life daughter Willow Smith), and they provide some of the better special effects sequences in the film. Ultimately, this is a pseudo-scientific thriller with horror movie elements and it's a very well-made example of such.

Amy Heckerling's surprisingly engaging romantic comedy is a somewhat hit-and-miss take on modern day romances, the age gap, TV sitcom production and the pitfalls of being a single mom raising a pubescent daughter. Michelle Pfeiffer is Rosie, a successful writer working on a UPN-esque sitcom called "You Go Girl" about black teenagers in high school. Her intelligent, insightful and clever 13-year-old daughter Izzie (Saoirse Ronan of "Atonement") is in the beginning stages of puberty, her personal assistant Jeannie (Sarah Alexander) gets kicks out of playing mean computer pranks on her co-workers and talking bad about people behind their back, her star Brianna Minxx (Stacey L. Dash of Heckerling's "Clueless") is a diva in the making, her boss (Fred Willard) is constantly giving input about how to make the show fit into a certain market, and her love life is non-existant following the basically amicable divorce from deadbeat loafer and plastic surgery nut Nathan (Jon Lovitz). Then in walks young-ish actor and physical comedian extraordinaire Adam (Paul Rudd) to shake up Rosie's life. This is not, however, the typical story of a successful businesswoman failing to get along with the young upstart - on the contrary, Rosie is taken with Adam from the beginning, and their relationship gets off to a strong start. Then come the neurotic worries about the age-gap and whatnot, and questions of fidelity, and soon it's not certain these two will end up happily ever after. And did I mention that the whole film is framed first with narration by, and then a sort of invisible friend relationship with Mother Nature (Tracey Ullmann), who gives Rosie advice throughout - usually contrary to what her heart tells her. Did I not mention that this was all hit-and-miss from the get-go? Amy Heckerling directed "Fast Times at Ridgemont High" (1982) before moving on to "National Lampoon's European Vacation" (1985) and the first two "Look Who's Talking" films (1989 and 1990). Her claim to fame in recent years is then, perhaps, "Clueless" (1995), a sort of banner for high school girls and teenagers of all sorts in the mid-90s. If you weren't among the targets of satire in that film, copying unawares the behavioral patterns of those teens (like my sister did), then you were at least among the types who could recognize the keen insights and cleverness of the dialogue, and enjoy the movie as an incisive satire. Heckerling's latest has had an interesting history - after opening in various countries throughout 2007, it premiered on DVD in America in early 2008. This would normally be a bad sign, and though parts of it (namely those involving Ullmann as Mother Nature) are near-misses to say the least, it's actually a perfectly fair romantic comedy, and sometimes shows flashes of strong wit and the potential for something more. Rudd is a likable leading man, and Pfeiffer is a likable leading lady, and they make a nice, occasionally awkward couple - you can tell they belong together, even when they don't realize it. There are tried and true (read: hackneyed) plot obstructions along the way to keep the two "apart" until the right time, but they are standard and not too stupid or distracting. Ultimately, this is just a nice, good time.

Zero stars - Chris Sivertson's 107 minute long stretch of celluloid (give blame where blame is due) is perhaps the sleaziest, nastiest, ugliest, most vile little excuse of a film in many a moon. The plot: Aspiring writer and sometime pianist Aubrey Fleming (Lindsay Lohan) disappears one night after going to the movies with her bubble-headed friends. Turns out, a guy has been going around town abducting, torturing and killing young women. Aubrey looks like his next victim. Then Aubrey is found in a ditch by a woman (who just barely avoids a car accident, by the by) and is taken to the hospital in a coma. When she wakes up, she doesn't recognize her name, her parents, or her life. She is now Dakota Moss (also Lohan), a chain-smoking, foul-mouthed, alcoholic/drug-addicted stripper, the daughter of a crack addict, who's been slumming it her whole life on Skid Row. Her parents (Julia Ormond and Neal McDonough) are concerned and hurt. Her potential stalker turned boyfriend Jerrod (Brian Geraghty) is eccstatic now she's giving him the time of day. But is this the real Aubrey? Or is something else at work? And that's quite enough of the plot. So here's 10 things I thought about while watching "I Know Who Killed Me":


10. I didn't like Lohan before the personality shift and I flat-out loathed her afterward. Very bad sign.


9. I suspect the film's top draw is the curiosity over Lohan as a stripper - which isn't worth it.


8. Why would an established actress (if a fairly mediocre one) like Lohan degrade herself in (to say nothing of subject herself to the torture of) trash like this?


7. After the line "I think the cutting's about punishment" I found myself saying (out loud), "So is the editing!"


6. The film is sloppily-made by director/perpetrator Chris Sivertson. An example: when the apparent killer first appears (and, I think, is a red herring of sorts), there is one quick shot of him carelessly edited into the middle of a scene with Lohan and friends and there is no preparation, context or explanation for the shot. It comes and goes just as quickly.


5. The screenplay by Jeff Hammond is the sort of shamelessly artless trash that gives the term "exploitation movie" a bad name.


4. Where was Rodney Rowland (formerly of TV's "Space: Above & Beyond"? I didn't see him anywhere! (smart career move)


3. Is it possible there's a worse film this year than "Norbit"?!?


2. I felt filthy after about 5 minutes and felt like showering for infinity afterward.


1. In the end, this is just another film to be thrown on the "torture porn" scrap heap - who wants to see that?


My verdict? In a word: YUCK!





NOTE: The film (deservedly) won 8 of its 9 Razzie (Bad Movie Oscar equivalent) awards, including a tie for Worst Actress (Lohan and Lohan), as well as lone winner for Director, Excuse for a Horror Movie, Remake or Rip-Off, Screen Couple (Lohan and Lohan again), Screenplay, and (of course) Picture. It was also nominated for Supporting Actress for Ormond.


Sidenote: Is "rewarding" a film like this for being extraordinarily, unspeakably and offensively awful really something we should be doing?

Todd Haynes' film is perhaps the most curious cinematic experiment in many a moon, a stylish, bizarre emotional biography of the many lives and personalities of Bob Dylan. The film employs 6 actors to portray one of the most influential and fascinatingly enigmatic musical figures of the 20th century. There's the little black boy (Marcus Carl Franklin) who says he's Woody Guthrie; and Jack Rollins (Christian Bale), the Greenwich Village folk singer. There's Robbie (Heath Ledger), the rebellious Hollywood actor who settles down into rocky marriage (to a lovely French girl played by Charlotte Gainsbourg) and family life, and an actor (Richard Gere), who essentially represents Dylan appearing in Sam Peckinpah's "Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid." We get a 5th Dylan in the form of an elusive young man (Ben Whishaw from Tom Tykwer's "Perfume: The Story of a Murderer") submitting to a probing interview. However, it is Cate Blanchett (yes, she!) in a "Fellini's 8 1/2"-inspired sequence, who makes the greatest impression as Jude, a version of Dylan during the transition from acoustic to electric guitar and folk to folk-rock, succumbing to drug-induced shakes, suffering accusations of betrayal from his biggest fans and confusion from everyone else around him, except perhaps the poet Allen Ginsbourg (David Cross). The point, I think, is that Dylan (or any artist, for that matter) could never be pinned down, and that a career like this has a rather schizophrenic whiplash-inducing quality, always weaving and bobbing, never standing still in one persona for too long. Todd Haynes ("Far from Heaven," "Velvet Goldmine") thusly hasn't made a literal biography, but more of a spiritual one, capturing the many moods and styles of his subject, without ever referring to his characters by their "true" name. The film this most reminded me of in an odd way was Todd Solondz's "Palindromes" (2005), which gave us 8 different actors to play a 13 year old pregnant girl in various scenarios involving the potential for abortion. In the end, this is rather a fascinating exercise in the investigation of a life and career, intriguing and very well-done.

Paul Haggis' sophomore effort is a gripping police procedural, a gut-wrenching emotional drama, and a brilliant anti-war film all in one. Tommy Lee Jones is the former Military Police father of a soldier who doesn't quite make it home from Iraq. When it appears his son's been murdered in a field in Texas, Jones enlists the aid of a tough female detective (Charlize Theron) to investigate and finds some things out he wishes he hadn't. Susan Sarandon is Jones' wife, resentful of a husband who inspired (we sense, not intentionally) two sons to go to war, only to have them both be killed. Writer-director Haggis is the screenwriter behind Clint Eastwood's "Million Dollar Baby" (in my humble opinion, the best film of 2004, and the Oscars agreed), and also wrote and directed the best film of 2005, "Crash" (which also won Best Picture). Here, he's crafted an involving mystery, wrapped in deceit, cover-up and a heartbreaking human element. As Haggis peels back the layers of truth upon truth, the mystery gets more bizarre - though not as factually complex as it first seems. When the shocking truth is revealed, you will be confused, appalled, and have tears in your eyes. This is a great film; one of 2007's best!





NOTE: Jones was a (deserving) nominee for the Best Actor Oscar.

Robin Swicord's delightful romantic comedy proves that you don't have to be female or a male homosexual to enjoy the work of Jane Austen. As if there were any doubt. The film concerns the exploits of a small group of casual acquaintances and friends who bond over the literature of, perhaps, the greatest and most insightful female author of all time. Jocelyn (Maria Bello) is a dog-breeder (and collector) who can't sustain a human relationship (romantic, that is) and loves setting up others on dates. Prudie Drummond (Emily Blunt) is a high school French teacher whose husband (Marc Blucas) is about to go on a long trip to San Antonio in lieu of their romantic/business trip to Paris (neither has ever been). Bernadette (Kathy Baker) is a serial bride, marrying man after man, always in search of love. Sylvia Avila (Amy Brenneman) is about to separate from her husband Daniel (Jimmy Smits) because he's been seeing someone. Their lesbian daughter Allegra (Maggie Grace, formerly from TV's "Lost") has been searching for romance in all the wrong places, and loves taking risks. As a breath of fresh air, the group decides they could use a book club devote to the Austen canon to get over their personal problems. A welcome diversion, if you will. Jocelyn, at a breeder's convention, meets Grigg (Hugh Dancy), an intriguing young tech supporter/software magnate who seems to have a lot of money and not know what to do with it. Thinking he might be a good fit for Sylvia's recently broken heart, she invites him to join the club. He takes this as a sign that Jocelyn likes him, which on some level is probably true. One by one, a month at a time, they will whisk through the works of Jane Austen, from "Emma" (the inspiration for "Clueless") to "Northanger Abbey" (Austen's first book, published posthumously), from "Persuasion" to "Mansfield Park," and (of course) "Sense and Sensibility" and "Pride and Prejudice." Like clockwork, the plot developments (and their lives) begin to lightly mirror things from Austen's world. The film was written and directed by Robin Swicord ("Practical Magic," "Memoirs of a Geisha") and is based on the novel by Karen Joy Fowler. As a romantic comedy, it's pretty predictable and pleasant enough. As a tribute to Austen fans and a primer for potential future fans, it is delightful and invaluable. The cast is nice to look at and listen to, and the characters are not dopes stuck in a sitcom, but actually literate and intelligent people stuck in the unfortunate position of human life - and all its romantic foibles. And I liked that Grigg, Daniel and even the husband played by Blucas prove to be better than they first appear. This is not a "chick flick" per say, but a film for both sexes to enjoy.

Jason Reitman's film invites the audience to have one of two reactions in strict polar opposition to one another. Sure, you could resist its almost cloyingly independent/pseudo-edgy vibe from the first frame through the end credits, which ranges from a too-clever by half adolescent narration (by stripper turned screenwriter Diablo Cody), to the hand-drawn rhotoscoping title sequence, to the cutesy, catchy and childish songs of Kimya Dawson. You can steel yourself against the heart-warming story of an unplanned pregnancy and the softening of the sardonically witted 16 year old heroine (Ellen Page from "Hard Candy") at the film's center. You could even argue that the film is flatly directed, with no style or color to its mise-en-scene. But that would make you a cold and bitter person. Ultimately, mine is the latter reaction - one of complete and utter adoration. This is my favorite film of 2007 and everything I mentioned above, which should be an irritatingly self-conscious, collective shot in the foot, is in actuality a ginormous credit to why this film has been given so many kudos from so many critics and audiences. From first-time writer Cody's brilliant screenplay, to the more than game cast: Page, former "Arrested Development" alums Michael Cera and Jason Bateman, "Alias"' Jennifer Garner, "The West Wing"'s Allison Janney and "Spider-Man"'s own J.K. Simmons, Reitman's follow-up to his inspired anti-tobacco satire "Thank You For Smoking" (2005) is, in reality, a complete and utter gem.



NOTE: Nominated for 4 Oscars, including Best Picture and Actress, it (deservedly) won for Best Original Screenplay!

Peter Berg's film exists in the real modern world of Arab-U.S. relations - one where car bombs go off on a daily (sometimes hourly) basis, gunfire regularly happens in front of family homes, and Americans and Muslims alike are killed violently when they least expect it. Although the film exists in this world, it is not a political statement, nor an emotional appeal on a human level (though those notes are sporadically struck). It basically boils down to an action-thriller with strong dramatic tendencies, and the cast and their director (of VERY BAD THINGS and THE RUNDOWN) are up to the task. It all starts with a bombing at a sports match, killing 100 U.S. and Muslim citizens (men, women, children) and escalates from there into a hunt for the perpetrators - a collaboration between FBI agents (Jamie Foxx, Chris Cooper, Jennifer Garner and wisecracking ARRESTED DEVELOPMENT alum Jason Bateman) and Saudi officials who want to cooperate. Foxx strikes up a rapport with the head Saudi officer in charge, and there's real chemistry between them. The film is fast paced for a near two hour action drama, and the screenplay by Michael Carnahan (he also wrote Robert Redford's LIONS FOR LAMBS, a genuine political thriller in the same season) is not full of lame cliches and annoyingly clipped testosterone-speak (at least not all the time). This makes for intelligent and enjoyable, if not too thought-provoking, fare ending with a chilling juxtaposition, and a disturbing (though seemingly benign) final image.

"You should come home. There is a way to be good again." This is what Amir (Khalid Abdalla) is told by an old family friend (Shaun Toub of "Crash") in an urgent phone call to his home in San Francisco in the year 2000. The now adult Amir then flashes backward, and so begins Marc Forster's affecting, thoughtful story of long-held regrets, shameful secrets, and the power of redemption. Growing up in Kabul, Afghanistan in 1978, Amir (played as a kid by Zekiria Ebrahimi) is the son of Baba (Homayoun Ershadi), a kind-eyed intellectual with no use for the radicals taking over the country. Amir's best friend is Hassan (Ahmad Khan Mahmoodzada), the son of Baba's servant Ali who has been with the family for a long time. Amir and Hassan are partners in local kite flying competitions, and are bullied by Assef, the local thug who interprets their friendship as being "payed for" because of their parents' relationship. Amir's friendship with Hassan is forever tarnished when he secretly witnesses Hassan's assault and rape at the hands of Assef without intervening or even revealing his knowledge of it. Soon, the Soviets are invading and Amir and his father must emmigrate to America. By 1988, Amir is a college graduate and aspiring writer, living with his father in California and trying to make ends meet. There he meets his future bride Soraya (Atossa Leoni), the daughter of a once great Afghan General. Forster and screenwriter David Benioff (Spike Lee's "25th Hour") have adapted their story from the best-selling novel by Khaled Hosseini, and the transition is smooth as silk. This is a wonderfully involving and moving tale of innocence lost, friendships torn asunder, and the adult need to atone for one's past. "I'm through forgetting," adult Amir says late in the film. The film takes on many tones as it goes on, ranging from childhood fancy to an almost thriller-like dread, to light and fragile romance. Marc Forster has formed a pretty amazing little filmography in a very short amount of time: he began in 2000 with "Everything Put Together," starring Radha Mitchell, and followed it with Halle Berry's Oscar-winning performance in "Monster's Ball" (2001). He's since gone on to direct Oscar-nominee "Finding Neverland" (2004), the psychological thriller "Stay" (2005), the whimsical metaphysical comedy "Stranger Than Fiction" (2006) and now this; if you can spot a pattern here, by all means let me know! The performances are all strong (the actor who played young Hassan was relocated after his government threatened his life for appearing in the PG-13 appropriate rape scene), but I responded in particular to the kind eyes, soft voice, and good intentions of Amir's father, played here with amazing grace by Homayoun Ershadi (he reminded me of my Iranian uncle Ali). This film is physically beautiful, with CGI-augmented kite-flying scenes of great beauty and exhilirating effect. Above all else, this is a film about standing up for what is right when you aren't helpless, and making up for mistakes of the past; a lesson we all need reminding of once in a while. NOTE: Forster's filmography continues to follow an unclear path with the latest 007 film "Quantum of Solace" (2008). Huh?!? Also: Homayoun Ershadi starred in one of the WORST films I ever saw - Abbas Kiarostami's "A Taste of Cherry" (1997).

"Lars and the Real Girl" is the odd, but touching story of a lonely and sad rural man who his family and town are concerned for. When he finds a "sex doll" (anatomically correct) on the Internet, Lars (Ryan Gosling, in a great performance) decides to purchase her, gives her a name and personality, an entire history, etc. and presents her to his brother and his sister-in-law (Paul Schneider and Emily Mortimer) as his fiancee/girlfriend. The entire small town in which they live is soon buzzing, and a doctor (Patricia Clarkson) suggests that the only way out of Lars' delusion may be to acknowledge his doll as the real thing, and play along for his sake. Lars also has an unrequited crush from a co-worker (Kelli Garner of "Bully" fame).

This is funny, sweet, touching story of learning to come to grips with your past and the love and support that a town and family can give you if you open yourself up enough. Well-written by Six Feet Under alum Nancy Oliver.

Catherine Breillat's period drama is a thoughtful, ribald, saucy little entry in the career of one of the best French directors in existence. Asia Argento stars as the title character, Vellini, a half Italian courtesan in Paris who first frustrates, then bewitches and ultimately seduces the young Ryno (Fu'ad Ait Aattou), who first describes her as a "mutt" and is soon cheating on his wife with her. The film is slick and well-made, and surprisingly involving, taking Jules-Amedee Barbey d'Aurevilly's novel as its source material. Breillat ("Romance," "Fat Girl") has made an adult drama with real verve!

Vadim Perelman's dour drama is one of the best-looking films I can imagine about such a disturbing, dark subject. Uma Thurman is Diana McFee, a woman who survived a would-be massacre at her Catholic high school 20-some years ago. At the time, she (portrayed as a high schooler by Evan Rachel Wood) and her friend Maureen (the quirky and lovely Eva Amurri) were traumatized by the incident. Now, Diana is married to her college professor (Brett Cullen of "Lost"). On the eve of the anniversary, Diana is feeling the strain - false alarms, panic attacks, etc. So far, the premise could also work for a modern slasher movie, but this is a more thoughtful and inspired tale. The film flashes back and forth between memories leading up to the incident and Diana's present - which is haunted by her past. More I will not reveal (nor should anyone), but those who have a problem with how this film turns out are, I think, mistaken. There's a bit of trickery in the vein of Marc Forster's "Stay" (2005), but I'm not sure that this film is any less effective - perhaps even more so, given the level of the performances. Vadim Perelman, who directed, is the man who so wonderfully brought us "House of Sand and Fog" (2003), which was my favorite film of its year. Here, he has created no less of a great-looking film about similarly dark subject matter, and it has turned out beautifully. Working with cinematographer Pawel Edelman (Polanski's "Oliver Twist" and "The Pianist"), every single shot (from the first to the last) looks like a painting - or a glossy photo out of a magazine. Perelman, working from a screenplay by Emil Stern based on the novel by Laura Kasischke, has crafted a stunningly beautiful portrait of survivor's guilt, trauma and how those can affect a life.

The fourth film in the popular and seemingly endless action franchise is the first since 1995's "Die Hard with a Vengeance" and I think it's safe to say that if he doesn't exactly pass on the torch, Bruce Willis may not be up to another go-around. Willis re-emerges here as old-school detective-cum-action star John McClane, a "Time-Ex watch in a digital age" as his nemesis refers to him. Time hasn't been kind to McClane - he's older, divorced and has a daughter, Lucy (Mary Elizabeth Winstead of "Grindhouse"), who hates him so much (except when he's convenient, that is) that she goes by a different last name. Before long, McClane is unexpectedly asked to bring in a geeky and savvy young computer hacker named Matt Farrell (Justin Long). About two minutes after arriving at Farrell's cramped and packed little apartment, McClane is firing bullets down the hallway, ducking and covering, and trying to get Farrell the heck outta dodge. Turns out, Farrell is one of the loose strings being targeted by a cyber terrorist organization who hired him to help commit a "Firesale" on a national level - take out all of the computerized infrastructures of America and you set everyone back to absolute zero. This organization is led, more or less, by Thomas Gabriel (Timothy Olyphant, of TV's "Deadwood"), a disgruntled ex-government computer expert who is now trying to destroy the system he helped create, and his sexy and deadly Asian girlfriend Mai (Maggie Q). Meanwhile, Bowman (Cliff Curtis), the government agent who had McClane grab Farrell in the first place, tries to keep abreast of the deteriorating situation. Car chases, big explosions, endless gunfights, pursuits by airplane and helicopter, cyber cat and mouse games and an overweight geek who lives in his mother's basement but goes by the pseudonym "Warlock" (Kevin Smith) are just some of the pleasures of this surprisingly well-made and energetic action thriller, so well directed by Len Wiseman ("Underworld"). Willis is up to the task of being the hero, Long is a great sidekick for comedic relief, Olyphant is a terrific villain and the film's 130 minutes breeze by for the most part. What more do you want?

R, 139 min, 2007

Mike Newell's adaptation of the internationally popular Gabriel Garcia Marquez novel is a languid, plodding, pointless affair - great to look at, but lost on substance. Javier Bardem has his second oddest haircut of 2007 (after "No Country for Old Men", of course) as Florentino Ariza, a romantic young poet in 1800s Columbia who falls for Fermina Urbino (Giovanna Mezzogiorno), the daughter of a powerful and protective man (John Leguizamo). When she takes ill and is saved by Dr. Juvenal Urbino (Benjamin Bratt), it seems their love will be forbidden forever. So finally Florentino decides to make a go of getting over her - by sleeping with over 600 women and living a life of emotional solitude, often seducing married gals and dealing with the rage of cuckolded husbands. I have no problem with the story, such as it is, nor particularly with the film's physical qualities - it looks great, thanks to cinematographer Affonso Beato ("All About My Mother," among the many superior earlier works); he even invokes a shot from that particular film late in this one, when the camera is actually inside the typewriter as Bardem writes a "crucial" letter to his beloved. The blame, I'm afraid, must lie with the performances, and the pacing - it's not deliberate, it's maliciously slow. Mike Newell ("Donnie Brasco") has been a fine director in the past. It's the treatment of the material that must be off here. Marquez's novel is famous all over the world, and much beloved, so either millions upon millions of readers are wrong, or Ronald Harwood's screenplay and Newell's direction are terribly flawed. The film is lurid, melodramatic and goes nowhere near "over-the-top" - a crucial error, as I could at least work with something like that. I'm not sure which is the most laughable line (I still remember them days later): "Love is what we do naked," from one of Bardem's conquests (Laura Harring from "Mulholland Dr.")? Or was it his next ill-fated lover's swooning dialogue: "I will never be able to smell Turpentine without recalling this blessed day!"?!? That's not even taking into account the comically inept love scenes, such as the woman who won't stop talking about her dead husband, and lunges for Bardem as explosions shake the roof. There was another infamous literary adaptation (as yet unseen by me) in the 90's of "The Scarlet Letter" - it too has gone down in history as a laughable mess. I'm afraid this one joins the scrap heap as one of the worst allegedly "serious" films I've ever seen.

Ira Sachs' darkly comedic, murder and passion-drenched domestic drama is never quite as funny, as disturbing or as involving as we hope. Chris Cooper is Harry Allen, a happily-married businessman in the suburbs of 1949. His wife, Pat (Patricia Clarkson) and he have been gently and congenially married for many years. But Harry yearns for a change. He has found that change, potentially, in young Kay Nesbitt (Rachel McAdams), a pretty blond who really loves Harry. She is mutual friends with Harry's best friend Richard Langley (Pierce Brosnan), who narrates the film. Richard is clearly infatuated with Kay as well. This provides complication. Another complication: Harry wants to leave his wife and doesn't want to devistate her. Better he should poison her to death. Quick, painless, and he never has to put her through the embarassment and pain of being jilted. The film was directed by Ira Sachs ("Forty Shades of Blue") and written by he and Oren Moverman ("Jesus' Son," "I'm Not There."). It's based on the novel "Five Roundabouts to Heaven" by John Bingham. The film largely concerns Harry's desperation to leave the woman he loves for the woman he's in love with, and his desire to do so without causing any strife. As such a story, it doesn't drum up too much suspense or passion. It's sort of like a Douglas Sirk melodrama (without the melodrama) crossed with a film noir (without the dark demeanor). As such, it's not bad.

Tony Gilroy's "Michael Clayton" is a high-powered yet subtle legal thriller in which we begin to have empathy - first for one man deemed crazy by his employer and his closest friend, and then for the friend, who must determine just how crazy his friend and colleague is.



George Clooney plays the title character, a "fixer" for legal messes, who when we first meet him, is world-weary, beaten down by his job, and yet, still trying to commit to what he does for a living.



Colleague and friend Arthur Edens (Tom Wilkinson, in the year's first sure-fire Supporting Actor nomination deserving performance), believes that he too has been corrupted by his work, protecting an agro-chemical company for years against allegations of pollution causing deaths in small towns.



Clayton must seek out the truth at all costs, including potentially, the life of Edens, as well as his own.



Gilroy, a first time writer-director who is famous for penning the Bourne movies, keeps the film at a remarkably steady pace, drawing us in rather than assaulting us with improbable action in corporate settings.



The supporting cast, including Wilkinson (the anchor of the film), Sydney Pollack as Clayton's off-the-books employer, and Tilda Swinton as a remarkably nervous agro-chemical employee who knows more than she's letting on, is quite simply, uniformly, superb.



This is definitely one of the year's best films. Nominated for 7 Oscars, including Best Picture!

This "based on true events" film stars Angelina Jolie as the wife of Jewish journalist Daniel Pearl, who disappeared and popped up on a terrorist hostage video somewhere "over there." Jolie is heart-wrenching as the soon to be bursting pregnant wife and Dan Futterman is effective as Daniel. Michael Winterbottom (THE ROAD TO GUANTANAMO, IN THIS WORLD) brings a documentary-esque quality to his direction, lending this an immediacy - even for those who know the outcome.

Writer-director Harmony Korine (KIDS, GUMMO, JULIEN-DONKEY BOY) has crafted an odd, bizarrely entertaining and sort of hypnotic dramedy about a Michael Jackson impersonator in Paris (Y TU MAMA TAMBIEN's Diego Luna). He meets a Marilyn Monroe clone (Samantha Morton) and falls in with her commune of celebrity impersonators. Quirky, whimsical and often full of non-sequitors (Werner Herzog as a priest flying a plane full of sky-diving nuns? What the frack?!?)... Korine is an original, that's for damn sure.

Zach Helm's whimsical, magical, thoughtful and sometimes pretty funny family film surprised me with its charm and relative insight; I enjoyed it quite a bit more than I ever could've expected. Dustin Hoffman is Mr. Magorium, the "eccentric" old man (indeed, some reports suggest he's 243 years old!) who runs his magical toy store in a tiny corner of New York City. Helping him is piano prodigy turned store manager Molly Mahoney (Natalie Portman), who has forsaken her burgeoning career as a composer and pianist for long hours tending to Mr. Magorium's quirks, his wild imagination, and the store which has eminated from such things. Helping both of them is young Eric Applebaum (Zach Mills), a smart, quirky 9-year-old devoid of friends (outside of the store) who even puts off his fellow children when he plays around them inside the store. Mr. Magorium is "departing" and needs to assess the value of his life's work, so he hires "the mutant" Henry Weston (Jason Bateman, in the same season as "Juno"), an accountant who works all day and has no fun. Gradually, little by little, he becomes first Eric's friend, then Molly's, and begins to possibly see a twinkle of the wonderment the store has to offer. How immersed in the adult world of work and paper would you have to be to miss a door with a handle which seems to shift the rooms behind it, a gigantic ball, a live pet zebra, books which seemingly give you whatever you're searching for (actually make things materialize from the page) and fish mobiles with live, fresh fish? Such is Henry's lot in life until he walks into Mr. Magorium's Wonder Emporium. The plot concerns Henry's change from uptight adult to chidlike waif, and Molly's shift from childlike waif and follower of Mr. Magorium's whims to full-fledged adult with belief in herself, and young Eric's shift from odd loner to...odd loner with friends? The film is the directorial debut of screenwriter Zach Helm, who previously wrote Marc Forster's "Stranger Than Fiction" (2006). That also involved occult-power-imbued objects and uptight accountants getting loose and finding their inner sparks and Dustin Hoffman as a quirky old eccentric. What Helm lacks in craft, he more than makes up for in spirit, imagination and whimsy. This film, then, is a remarkable construction. From the set design, to the cinematography to just the general energy level of the story, this is the kind of movie where hyperkinetic doesn't really begin to cover it; it practically oozes sugar and light. That being said, it is fun and sweet and thoughtful and surprisingly grown up for a G-rated family film. But it is a family film, and one adults might possibly enjoy just as much as their offspring.

Guy Maddin's odd, often funny and surreal mixture of documentary and dramatic recreation (though the documentary aspects feel fictional on some level as well) is the toung-in-cheek treatment of how he tries to get out of his home town in Manitoba, Canada (a land of "sleepwalkers") and how he reminisces about the past which lead him to this tough decision. Amusing and bizarre work from the unique and talented creator of such films as BRAND UPON THE BRAIN!, THE SADDEST MUSIC IN THE WORLD, and DRACULA: PAGES FROM A VIRGIN'S DIARY, the most original Canadian director working today.

Preposterous is the word for this one. No other word for it. The sequel to the original 2004 hit is roughly as insultingly stupid, mind-numbingly dull, and embarassingly generic as its predecessor, with almost as much to groan about. If you recall "National Treasure" (2004), that was the one where, let's see if memory serves, the "hero" had to squirt lemon juice on the back of the Declaration of Independence in order to uncover an invisible coded message; this is scarcely less insane. The film opens "5 days after the end of the Civil War" in Washington, D.C. with John Wilkes Booth, the man who assassinated Lincoln, coming to Thomas Gates (Joel Gretsch), our hero's great-grandfather, to decode a hidden message written in his diary. This hidden message will involve an extinct Native American language and a secret book passed down between U.S. Presidents that reveals the skinny on, let's see here, the Kennedy Assassination, the 18-1/2 minute gap on the Watergate tapes, the truth behind the moon landings and, oh yeah, the real truth behind what goes on at Area 51. This code could be the key to opening a pandora's box of a conspiracy theorist's wet dreams. Do you really wanna know what that entails? Neither do I. The film picks up with history geek and treasure hunter extraordinaire Benjamin Franklin Gates (Nicolas Cage), still famous after the last film's adventure, and involves the sudden public revelation of his great-grandfather's involvement in a conspiracy to kill Lincoln - who, we learn, is Benjamin's "favorite President." Benjamin and his father Patrick Henry Gates (Jon Voight) must then contend with a nefarious fellow treasure hunter (Ed Harris), kidnap the current President (Bruce Greenwood) in order to get a key lucky bit of information, and employ the unique skills of Benjamin's girlfriend Abigail (Diane Kruger); the goofy tech nerd and author of the book about their previous adventure, Riley (Justin Bartha); and Benjamin's university professor mother (Helen Mirren). Also attempting to cover for Benjamin is his FBI agent pal from the first film (Harvey Keitel). With a cast like this, you'd almost be willing to forgive any goofiness the filmmakers can throw at you. Almost. Indeed, there is a scene early in the film where Cage, Voight, Harris and Albert Hall of "Apocalypse Now" fame are standing around discussing the beginnings of the plot, and I just rolled my eyes and felt myself cringing at the sight of such great actors on such a fool's errand. Another scene at Buckingham Palace is particularly painful, with Cage in an over-the-top rant designed to distract the guards long enough so he and his girlfriend can get out without being detained, or something. Cage seems to be having fun here, I guess, but I pity him. I really, truly do. Occasionally, the film sparks to life thanks to Helen Mirren's saucy portrayal of Cage's mother, and (despite its preposterousness) I also kinda liked the scene between Cage and Bruce Greenwood; you'll know the one to which I refer. The film has again been directed by Jon Turteltaub ("Cool Runnings," "3 Ninjas") and written by, among others, the Wibberlys and Ted Elliott & Terry Rossio (the "Pirates of the Caribbean" trilogy and "Shrek"); they need to find a real day job. The film has unconvincing if fairly servicable special effects and no brain to match. This film is like Indiana Jones for people whose suspension of disbelief has snapped. You would have to be at least half as insane as these characters to even roll with this, let alone enjoy it. I hope you aren't.

Lee Tamahori's preposterous sci-fi action/thriller is a silly, half-assed, mildly intriguing tale that never fully engages us with its ridiculous plot. Nicolas Cage (who else?) is magician Cris Johnson, a Las Vegas lounge act who has gained the attention of Security Chief Roybal (Jose Zuniga) at the casino at which he's employed, by seeming to "cheat" at cards all the time without any clear way of cheating. This is because Cris can see two minutes into the future. This apparent ability, around which he has built a rather campy magic act, has gained the attention of FBI agent Callie Ferris (Julianne Moore), who wants him to use his ability to help prevent a nuclear terrorist attack. Cris, meanwhile, is haunted by the only person he's managed to see coming for longer than two minutes into the future: Liz Cooper (Jessica Biel), a lovely young woman whose purpose in connection with Cris must be discovered before it's too late. The film was directed by Lee Tamahori ("The Edge," "Die Another Day"), a seasoned action/drama professional who sort of appears to be phoning it in a bit here - it all feels a little lazy, a little layed back, a little formulaic and a lot underwhelming. You could easily watch this film on TV and do 15 other things at the same time and still enjoy it to a point. Okay, maybe 5 or 10 things. Cage and Moore are terrific actors marooned here in a wasteland of action cliches and half-baked ideas. The results are passable, but not recommendable.

The Coen Brothers' suspenseful, absorbing Western-tinged noir follows Cormac McCarthy's blood-drenched 2005 novel to the letter, and it results in one of the most wickedly entertaining and bone-chilling crime films to come out of America in the last 50 years or more. Javier Bardem is Chigurh, the disturbing and disturbed, cold, calculating murderer who dispatches some business associates quite violently when a drug deal goes awry. Happening upon the scene, sans Chigurh, is rancher Llewelyn Moss (Josh Brolin in one of four great films this year!), who finds a stash of heroin and $2 million in cash. Of course, Moss takes the money and Chigurh is then hot on his tail. Tommy Lee Jones, appearing in another wonderful law-enforcement role this year, plays Sheriff Ed Tom Bell, the small Texas-Mexico border town's local lawman who finds the scene and then pursues Chigurh in an effort to save Moss. But as a character says late in the film, "You can't stop what's coming." Twisted and heart-stopping, gruesomely violent and wickedly funny by turns, this is as brilliant a film as the Coens ("Fargo," "Blood Simple") have ever made - in any milieu! Nominated for 8 Oscars including Best Picture!

Randall Miller's twisted, stylish, darkly comedic thriller is the kind of film that goes over the top, doubles back and then goes over the top again; it's all style and little to no substance, but it's great fun all the while. The plot is a tangled web woven by Barkley Michaelson (Bryan Greenberg), who is (unfortunately) the son of famed chemistry professor Eli Michaelson (Alan Rickman), an acidically mean-spirited S.O.B. who has a vile, vicious contempt for his son and his colleagues, and who has just won the Nobel Prize for his chosen profession. Barkley, meanwhile, has been trying to finish his PhD thesis on anthropophagy (cannibalism) and has hit a brick wall. His mother Sarah (Mary Steenburgen) is a forensic psychiatry professor (Al Pacino could've learned something from her in "88 Minutes") who seems to loathe the marriage in which she's found herself, who loves her son, and who must deal with the terrible behavior of her pompously arrogant philanderer husband. One night, Barkley goes to the book store he frequents and finally gets up to the nerve to talk to the deep, darkly mysterious (and curiously named) City Hall (Eliza Dushku), a poet and artist of tortured (and torturous) proportions. Barkley beds her and borrows a $20 bill for a cab the next day (while she's still sleeping). On the eve of Eli receiving his prize, arriving home to get ready for his flight to Stockholm, Barkley is kidnapped by mechanic and apparent chemistry dabbler Thaddeus James (Shawn Hatosy), who requests as ransom the $2 million in Nobel prize money. Then there's such peripheral characters as Detective Max Mariner (Bill Pullman), the family friend who clearly likes Sarah and looks into the kidnapping as a courtesy, and George Gastner (Danny DeVito), a "recovering obsessive-compulsive" who works as the family gardener and who saw nothing on the morning of the kidnapping. The film has been directed and co-written by Randall Miller ("Marilyn Hotchkiss Ballroom Dancing & Charm School", "Houseguest"), who has gone off in a completely different direction with this film - one might say off the deep end. The film's style makes hyperkinetic look deliberate in pace, and the dark, seamy look, the ever-roving camera and the whiplash-inducing editing recall the work of Tony Scott ("Domino"). The cast is top notch, from the dry sarcasm of Rickman to the snot-nosed lovesick puppy qualities of Greenberg, to the sadistic cleverness of Hatosy and the mercurial intrigues of Dushku. The plot is all over the place in tone and subjects, and manages to encompass dark comedy, drama, mystery, thriller aspects, kidnapping, exhtortion, poetry, art, cannibalism, chemistry, forensic psychiatry and murder. It's all a bit much, but I think I'd prefer to see a filmmaker go for broke like this and fail somewhat than try as little as possible and succeed even slightly.



NOTE: Randall Miller's film that was previously released in America was actually made later: "Bottle Shock" (2008), also starring Alan Rickman.

Zero stars - Without a doubt, Eddie Murphy's "Norbit," a pitiful excuse for a "comedic star vehicle" for the Oscar-nominated supporting star of "Dreamgirls," is the worst film of this or possibly any year! Murphy stars as three people: the title character, a nerdy black man who when he was much younger met a girl he really liked who was nice to him and ultimately they lost touch; Rasputia, the frighteningly overweight, but even uglier in spirit, girl who just about forced him into a relationship; and Murphy also plays the offensive stereotype of the Chinese restaurant owner who adopts Norbit after the baby is dropped off on his doorstep. This film is badly made, vile in its attitudes towards women, obese people, stereotypes of blacks, Asians and other minorities, and ultimately offends humanity. In short, "Norbit" is trash. If this film has a "redeeming" value (not enough to get another half-star though) it's Eddie Griffin (yes, you read correctly) and Katt Williams (a loud but talented comedian) as two enterprising pimps in the neighborhood who just want to have a business career without complications. This duo provides the only (admittedly bad) laughs in this 93 minute monstrosity. Appallingly, a nominee for the Best Makeup Oscar in 2008!

J.A. Bayona's debut is a creepy, effective little ghost story from Spain (executive produced by Guillermo del Toro, fresh off PAN'S LABYRINTH). This one involves a once-adopted woman whose husband and adopted son move with her to the abandoned orphanage in which she grew up. Her son, afflicted with both HIV and apparent imaginary friends, is on medication and things get pretty freaky when he is interacting with children who aren't there. The film, thankfully, never strains too hard for effect, nor does it lapse into show-off mode or cheap scares. Nevertheless, this is one of the creepiest and most effective "horror" films I've seen in some time. Slow, methodical, chilling, and ultimately touching, this is a surprisingly intelligent and involving thriller from one of the best countries in the movie business. Well-done.

Here is a creepy, unnerving and exciting action-horror film that engages you for all of its running time without ever quite dumbing itself down too far; this is a rarity these days. For Angela (Rachel Nichols), a workaholic toiling away in a New York City high-rise, Christmas Eve was just another boring old day at the office. But then the lights went out, and soon the party was over. Before long, Angela finds she's been captured by Thomas (Wes Bentley from "American Beauty"), a vaguely creepy night security guard in her office building's parking garage. Soon it's revealed that Thomas is lonely, has an unrequited crush on Angela, and that that crush (and the desire to express it) has overtaken him; Thomas's attempt to "impress" Angela with his devotion is thoughtful and kinda sweet, if horribly misguided and disturbing. The film, directed and co-written by Franck Khalfoun, was produced and co-written by Alexandre Aja and Gregory Levasseur ("High Tension," "The Hills Have Eyes" remake); Khalfoun appeared in "High Tension" as Jimmy. Like "High Tension," the film is genuinely creepy and, at times, outright scary, because it plays on the very real fear of being all-but-helplessly confined to a locked space - and with an obsessive stalker/psychopath, yet. Nichols makes a good, fresh-faced and quick-thinking heroine - however ill-fated her attempts at getting away from her captor. Wes Bentley, as Thomas, is a deeply disturbed and frightening presence; he's clearly insane, thinks he means well, but is also thoroughly scarred by years and years of lonliness and rejection and sees Angela as someone he can save from a similar fate. Try to imagine the young man from "American Beauty," all grown up, still tending toward the demeanor of a creepy stalker, and now with years of rejection and psychosis under his belt; that's Thomas. The film is darkly and beautifully shot by Maxime Alexandre, from the opening credits (set to "Santa Baby") to the various scenes of a barefoot, beat-up Nichols attempting to evade the seemingly unstoppable Bentley. The bottom line is this: if you're looking for an atmospheric and scary thriller that doesn't insult you too badly, this will suffice.

Gus Van Sant's tone poem of a film is an elliptical, poetically hypnotic portrait of a young life interrupted by sudden death. Alex (Gabe Nevins) is a skateboard punk in Portland, Oregon. His life is dominated by hanging out with his friend Jared (Jake Miller) at the local homegrown skateboard venue Paranoid Park, and maybe sorta-kinda liking the cheerleader Jennifer (Taylor Momsen). His mother (Grace Carter) and father (Jay 'Smay' Williamson) are separated and on the road to divorce, and thus too distracted to notice his behavior. His shiftless skate punk routine is altered one fateful night by an accident which comes to consume him: hopping trains with a stranger he met at the skate park, he's pursued by a security guard and hits him with his skateboard, which knocks him onto the tracks - where he's split in two by an oncoming train. Alex's initial reaction is one of shock, and then one of fear of being caught when a detective (Daniel Liu) starts looking into the event and asking all the skateboarders at Alex's school about whether they were there that weekend or not. As the net closes in, Alex grows more and more paranoid about getting caught, yet the weight of the guilt for what was, after all, accidental manslaughter, begins to seep its way into his conscience. What can he do to get this weight off his chest? Gus Van Sant, who wrote and directed this story from a novel by Blake Nelson, is the crown prince of independent cinema dating back to his breakthrough "Drugstore Cowboy" (1989) and its follow-up "My Own Private Idaho" (1991). Since then, he has varied from the darkly comedic ("To Die For") to the inspirational ("Good Will Hunting," "Finding Forrester"), from needless remakes ("Psycho") to doomed book adaptations ("Even Cowgirls Get the Blues"). This film has more in common with Van Sant's latest works: like "Gerry" (2002), "Elephant" (2003) and "Last Days" (2005), this is yet another spare, mutedly stylish slice of death-tinged life filled to the brim with lyrical touches. In his young and largely inexperienced cast, Van Sant has found the ideal people to play their parts, especially Nevins as Alex: he is sullen, introverted and withdrawn, in love with skateboarding but still a kid (too afraid to go to the park alone). The only thing that didn't work so well for me (though I suppose it was necessary) is the narration, based on the premise that Alex is writing down his tragic experience in a journal to exorcise his demons. The narration feels read and written, although that may be intentional to give the impression of being thought and written out as Alex goes along. Occaionally, the film fractures the narrative, doubling back to show an event or listen to a snippet of conversation again, and I believe we see Alex starting to write his journal two or three times throughout the film. Van Sant, with cinematographers Christopher Doyle and Rain Li, brings all of his growing visual gifts to the fore: whether it be playing with soft and solid focus and lighting exposures, or fast and slow motion, or even several long tracking shots following the main character through his landscape (notice in particular a shot near the beginning in which Alex is on a path between two sections of tall grass, the blue and gray coastline on the horizon). The impeccable soundtrack is dominated by everything from Nino Rota (particularly music from Fellini's "Juliet of the Spirits") to opera, hip hop, thrash metal, and even Elliot Smith (notice the re-use of "Angeles" from Van Sant's "Good Will Hunting"). Curiously, all of this works to make the film more a meandering but focused portrait of a consciousness awakened by accidental tragedy, where the plot is just there under the surface, keeping things moving right along. The results are alternatingly fascinating, haunting and beautiful.

Marjane Satrapi's "Persepolis" is the autobiographical story of an intelligent but impressionable youth living in Iran during the revolution who grows up with an ever-changing and enlightened perspective thanks to open-minded Communist parents and a thoughtful, guiding force of a grandmother. Her black-and-white animated odyssey from young girl to full blown womanhood is enchanting from start to finish. A gorgeous film.

The extremely uneven third entry in Gore Verbinski's popular franchise based on the famous Disney amusement park ride begins slow and ascends gradually toward levels of mild entertainment: it's densely plotted, convoluted, confusing at times, mildly uninteresting at others, and way way way overlong. Let's see if I've got this right: the plot involves rescuing Captain Jack Sparrow (Johnny Depp) from a hallucination-inducing Purgatory; an Asian pirate captain (Chow Yun-Fat) who meets an untimely demise; the ongoing romance between Ms. Swan (Keira Knightly) and William Turner (Orlando Bloom); an attempted truce with the on-again/off-again villain Barbossa (Geoffrey Rush); a sea witch/goddess called Calypso; and the Pirate Council's war against the British Royal Navy armada. Yes, with a sometimes painful, sometimes enjoyable running time of 168 minutes, this film has enough plotlines for an entire season of a TV series (and then some). Still, "Pirates" fans are rabid and might enjoy this on some level. For anyone less than devoted to the Cult of Sparrow, stay away. NOTE: A mildly amusing, much-anticipated cameo by Keith Richards as Sparrow's father is decent enough.

Robert Rodriguez's extended and unrated DVD release of his half of the horror/camp double feature "Grindhouse" (the second half is Quentin Tarantino's "Death Proof") is as gory, goofy and fun as a zombie film can get. The film stars Rose McGowan as Cherry Darling, a go-go dancer who (at the urging of those around her) thinks she ought become a stand-up comedienne. Freddy Rodriguez (formerly of "Six Feet Under" and perhaps atoning for the dreadful "Harsh Times") is El Wray, a wrecking-truck driver with a penchant for fancy footwork, knives and general violence. When a mysterious outbreak hits the small Texas border town, turning the local populace into flesh-munching zombies, it's up to Cherry and former lover Wray (and a small band of survivors) to fend off the evil invasion. Marley Shelton and Josh Brolin (who had a great year in this film, alongside Paul Haggis' "In the Valley of Elah," Ridley Scott's "American Gangster" and-of course-the Coen Brothers' "No Country for Old Men") are standouts among a stellar B-movie cast, truly getting into the over-the-top spirit of the cliche's they are playing. Rodriguez too brings his entire cinematic bag of tricks to bear on a grade-zilch horror movie parody. By itself, it's entertaining, but along with Tarantino's work, makes "Grindhouse" a one of a kind must-see!

Gavin Hood's intelligent, chilling thriller attempts to put a human face on the practice of torture, outsourced by the American government to foreign countries so that we can't be held accountable. Anwar El-Ibrahimi (Omar Metwally) is a chemical engineer with a pregnant wife named Isabella (Reese Witherspoon) and son in Chicago. He boards a plane in Cape Town, South Africa and is disembarking at the D.C. airport when he is abducted, has a hood put over his head, and is taken away, his name deleted from the passenger manifest. Isabella is concerned, then frightened when she can't get any answers, which are being withheld by the office of Senator Corrinne Whitman (Meryl Streep), who authorized his extradition to another country for "interrogation." This interrogation is to be overseen by a young CIA analyst (Jake Gyllenhaal) who survived a terrorist bombing in North Africa only to see his colleague get killed. He and his foreign associates are questioning Anwar about possible terrorist ties linked through his cell phone records. Meanwhile, Isabella employs an old college boyfriend (Peter Sarsgaard) to get information, since he's now an aide to a powerful senator (Alan Arkin). Gavin Hood ("Tsotsi") and writer Kelley Sane have constructed a labyrinthine plot (I haven't even gotten to the time-shifting sequences following the foreign interrogator's daughter and her friendship with a young man who may have ties to the bombing) around what is basically a human story; we have the young pregnant American seeking the truth about her husband, we have the husband who knows nothing and who can't convince his torturers that he is innocent, and we have the pencil-pushing American agent who is forced into an ugly job, who must do it, but at what cost? Still, Hood and Sane's plot is so utterly complex, and the tone so cold and slick, that it is easy to get lost in the details and lose sight of the human elements. Nevertheless, this is an effective and well-made real-world suspense drama.

Terry George's slice of life is a melodramatic tragedy that emotionally manipulates you like few films I've seen.

PG-13, 100 min, 2007

David Schwimmer's comedy

Tom Kalin's small-scale period epic is the unnerving, unsavory tale of a mother and son racing each other into madness; the results are occasionally intriguing but ultimately underwhelming. Julianne Moore is Barbara Daly, who married Brooks Baekeland (Stephen Dillane), heir to the fortune his grandfather made by creating the Bakelite. The couple was a society fixture throughout the 1940s, 50s and 60s in both New York and Paris. Barbara, as portrayed here, was a rather pretentious young woman who glittered in the limelight of high society, feeling superior to everyone - including her husband. The film opens with the trouble marriage between Brooks and Barbara and introduces their infant son Tony. As Tony grows up, he is an avid French student and an obvious homosexual with an increasingly, unhealthily close relationship to his mother. As a young adult, Tony (Eddie Redmayne) explores all that life has to offer, ultimately settling on a boyfriend - with whom he shares a sexual relationship with his own mother. I can't decide where it was that this film lost me - was it the scene where Barbara's husband practically rapes her from behind, the scene where Tony, Barbara and their boyfriend have the beginnings of a threesome, or the penultimate scenes where Tony and Barbara have sex? In all honesty, nothing about this is offensive particularly - it's just not handled in a way that engages throughout. You wouldn't think such material could be a bit boring, but it can and is here. Finally, in a London flat on November 17, 1972, Tony stabbed Barbara in the gut with a kitchen knife after some sort of insane misunderstanding. He killed her, went into a mental institution, and was released a few years later. A subtitle at the film's end tells the rest. The film is the first feature directed in 15 years by Tom Kalin, who made "Swoon" (1992), about the Leopold and Loeb murder case. Here, we have the materials of an interesting movie without the payoff. It's all sort of creepy and unnerving in theory, but not in practice. In fact, it's pretty bland. It must be said that Moore, one of our greatest actresses, does what she can with the performance as Barbara, and that's about the best element of the film, which is also handsome enough to look at. Other than that, it's much ado about nothing.

Writer-director Tamara Jenkins' darkly funny, bitter and sad portrait of the caretaking of an ailing parent by his adult kids is amusing and moving, sometimes in the same breath. Laura Linney is reliably fabulous as Wendy Savage, a temp from New York City who writes "subversive, semi-autobiographical" plays about her fucked-up childhood at the hands of a neglectful father (the solid Philip Bosco) and an absentee mother. When her father's elderly girlfriend dies at their home in Arizona, with his own mind being ravaged by dementia, Wendy can no longer avoid taking care of him, and so she and her brother John (an always wonderful Philip Seymour Hoffman), a drama professor from Buffalo working on a book about Brecht, must put aside their deep-seeded resentments and painful pasts, and face up to the need to help their father through his final months with some semblance of dignity. Jenkins' follow-up to her debut film "Slums of Beverly Hills" (1998) is a good step up. Its mixture of odd moments of human comedy, not-overly-dramatic pathos and thoughtful, heightened realism is endearing (no wonder the likeminded Alexander Payne is an executive producer). Very well-done.

Here we descend yet once more into the filthy, disturbed, (apparently) moral philosophy-fixated mind of Jigsaw, the "ingenious" serial killer prone to complex mechanical puzzles and implacable more dilemmas which often result in the torture, mutilation and gory murders of seemingly innocent victims. The film begins with a twist (of sorts): After "Saw III," Jigsaw, aka John Cramer (Tobin Bell of "Mississippi Burning" and the previous three "Saw" films), and his apprentice Amanda (Shawnee Smith, formerly of the infinitely less torturous TV sitcom "Becker") are dead. This film begins with Cramer's autopsy, a gory and disgusting affair which provides something of a litmus test for the audience - if you can withstand seeing what is removed in all sorts of detail from Jigsaw's lifeless corpse, you can probably withstand most of what this movie throws at you; I probably should've taken it as a sign to quit. As if this isn't enough, we then see an overweight man with his eyes sewn shut awaken in some kind of mausoleum. We then see he's attached via ankle chains to a man with his mouth sewn shut. Only the man without the capability to speak knows that he isn't the one who did this to the man who is now blind. To top that off, these two will have to battle for control of the chain, which is connected through some sort of medeival grinding device on the floor. You get the idea - and this was all prior to the title appearing on the screen! The "plot," when it finally kicks in, involves Detective Hoffman (Costas Mandylor, formerly of TV's "Picket Fences") investigating this latest spree of Jigsaw-esque crimes, searching for whomever the murderer's accomplice might be; his colleague, a SWAT member named Rigg (Lyriq Bent) who is urged along by Jigsaw (via tape recordings and videos) to work his way through a violent, bloody morality maze in order to save his former partner Eric Matthews (Donnie Wahlberg) and (apparently) the kidnapped Hoffman; two FBI special agents, Strahm (Scott Patterson, formerly of TV's "Gilmore Girls") and Perez (Athena Karkanis) who believe Rigg is Jigsaw's newest accomplice; and the subplot of sorts involving Jigsaw's ex-wife Jill (Betsy Russell), and the agents striving to understand what made Jigsaw into what he's become. For me, that last bit of the plot kept it all fairly interesting: the idea of what happened to turn John Cramer into Jigsaw intrigues me to a degree. The rest is filler. You have to credit (yes, credit) the screenplay by Patrick Melton & Marcus Dunstan and Thomas Fenton for attempting to create a horror story that actually has a plot which isn't the old stand-by of a creepy killer lurking in the shadows and lunging to off a seemingly infinite supply of teenage girls and boys (ala' the "Friday the 13th" and "Halloween" sagas). Unfortunately, what good is all the plot in the world if it is simply at the mercy of a gore-obsessed torture porn exercise like what this series has become thanks (in no small part) to director Darren Lynn Bousman?

Daniel Waters' pitch black comedy is sometimes funny, sometimes raunchy, and fairly hit-and-miss. Simon Baker is Roderick Blank, a successful businessman who has had many successes in his personal life, which have led to his engagement to the unfortunately-named Fiona Wormwood (Julie Bowen of TV's "Boston Legal" and "Lost"). Before long, Roderick gets a mysterious e-mail - a list of every sexual partner he has had and, apparently, ever will have well into the future. The list goes up to #101, which is both promising and appalling. Roderick's lesbian secretary/assistant Trixie (Mindy Cohn of TV's "Facts of Life"; yes!) tries to be the voice of reason, but Roderick is a thrill-seeker and too curious and so must seek out every woman on the list to "get it over with" - or something. Meanwhile, a mysterious, poetry-writing serial killer known as "Death Nell" (Winona Ryder) has been going around seducing men and poisoning them, leaving a trail of bodies in her wake. Will her path intersect with Roderick's? Will their bodies? Then there's also a bizarre group of mysterious, well-clothed men named Alpha (Robert Wisdom of "Storytelling"), Beta (Tanc Sade), and Fred (Patton Oswalt) seem to know a great deal about the list, which was created by a Machine in their all-white headquarters. Things take a turn when Roderick meets Dr. Miranda Storm (Leslie Bibb), a delightful gal who seems to like him only as a friend. Is she the one? The film is the sophomore (and sophomoric) directorial effort of screenwriter Daniel Waters, who previously wrote the great "Heathers" (1988). Unfortunately, then, this film is something of a disappointment. Ryder's presence is always welcome, and the film isn't without humor, but it descends deep into a twisted well of despair and tastelessness. I couldn't quite put my finger on what it was about this movie I didn't like, except to say that I stopped laughing well before it was half-over. Very bad sign for a comedy.

Michael Davis' "Shoot 'Em Up" is demented, sick, twisted, horrible, crude, violent and disgusting... and I loved every second of it! Clive Owen stars as a mystery man in an unnamed urban setting who when we first meet him is sitting on a bench waiting for a bus. He is eating a carrot. Soon, a pregnant woman runs into an alleyway, chased by a hoodlum with a gun. Practically invited to join in, Owen soon follows and impales the man with the carrot through the eye. Soon, the man's employer, a wisecracking and sadistic boss if ever there was (Paul Giamatti) is in hot pursuit. The woman gives birth and Owen must defend the baby's life at all costs, which employs a specialist hooker (Monica Bellucci) as both a confidante and potential love interest.

Odd, funny, insane, and every other synonym you can think of for wrong in every way possible, this is fun action cinema at its best!

Kenneth Branagh's "Sleuth" is a two character study by way of Harold Pinter, who took the basic plot of Anthony Shaffer's play (previously adapted into a 1972 film by Joseph L. Mankiewicz) and didn't even bother to look at the original dialogue it seems.

The result is a fascinating, mind-boggling, cat and mouse game that truly keeps you guessing and riveted from moment to moment.

Terrifically written by Pinter with crackling dialogue ("You gave him a metaphorical pat on the bum?") and brilliant, over-the-top acting by Jude Law and Michael Caine (Law is playing the part Caine played in the original film and Caine now plays the role immortalized by Laurence Olivier), this is a real sleeper! Great film!

David Gordon Green's "Snow Angels" is a mosaical slice of life in a small town (filmed in Nova Scotia). It concerns the converging lives of everyone from a young dishwasher in a Chinese restaurant (Michael Angarano) to his sexy coworker (Kate Beckinsale), a mom in the midst of a separation from her deadbeat, suicidal husband (Sam Rockwell), the dishwasher's classmate (Olivia Thirlby), and the co-worker (Amy Sedaris) and her unfaithful husband (Nicky Katt).

Green's fourth feature (after the superb "George Washington," "All the Real Girls" and "Undertow"; he has Judd Apatow's production "The Pineapple Express" coming in August!) is a powerful little movie based on the Stuart O'Nan novel.

The only confusing thing is that it seems to be set in the 70s or 80s, yet Beckinsale has a very new looking cellphone at one point. Anachronism?

Very good work on all accounts.

Matthew Vaughn's charming, whimsical romantic fantasy epic is a well-made, very enjoyable little slice of imagination, a mixture of the old and the new. Once upon a time, there lived Tristan (Charlie Cox), the young son of a Victorian scientist and a gypsy slave girl/prostitute called Una (Kate Magowan). Now grown, Tristan is the grocery clerk who lives in the small English village of Wall, cleverly named for the wall which separates it from the fantastical world of Stormhold. Tristan is in love with beautiful, popular Victoria (Sienna Miller), who has her own betrothed, the posh and ill-tempered Humphrey (Henry Cavill). Determined to prove his love for her, Tristan will retrieve a fallen star that has landed on the other side of the wall. Arriving on the other side of the wall, Tristan discovers Yvaine (Claire Danes), a beautiful young lass in place of the shooting star. Before long, via circumstances beyond his control, Tristan is attempting to escort Yvaine (quite against his will) through the kingdom of Stormhold to get back to England. The duo is pursued by Primus (Jason Flemyng), the son of King Stormhold (Peter O'Toole), who wants Yvaine because she holds the key to eternal life. So too does Lamia (Michelle Pfeiffer), a witch, seek her out for exactly the same reason. Tristan and Yvaine attempt to evade their pursuers, seeking refuge for a time with the astonishingly misleading Captain Shakespeare (Robert De Niro), a pirate on an air ship whose demeanor is an affect at best, and a deception at worst. All of this is narrated by Ian McKellen ("Lord of the Rings"), the voice of all things fantastical and ancient. The film was directed by Matthew Vaughn ("Layer Cake") and is based on the novel by Neil Gaiman, no stranger to vaguely historical fantasy ("MirrorMask"). The story is a bit overstuffed, but it's also quite enjoyable. The sequences involving Captain Shakespeare are tremendously entertaining, and it's a joy to see De Niro playing a real character. It's all a little too trivial to take seriously, and a little less epic than some of its recent predecessors; think less "Lord of the Rings" or "Harry Potter" and more "Princess Bride." Still, it's a good time.

Andrew Wagner's deep, sweet, thoughtful film is a vision of the solitary life of writing as it opens up to the input of others. We first see him eyes closed, hands clasped in front of him, almost praying, sitting in front of his typewriter. Here is a man who is uncertain where to go next. His name is Leonard Schiller (Frank Langella) and he was once a decently famous author in New York who wrote four published books (and two unpublished ones) and has been working on his latest work for over ten years. Then, a breath of fresh air. Into his life comes Heather Wolfe (Lauren Ambrose of TV's "Six Feet Under"), an ambitious and surprisingly thoughtful young graduate student who has fallen in love with Leonard's work and wants to write a critical career-spanning piece on him for her Master's thesis. Leonard is at first resistant to her advances, but is soon agreeing to meet and discuss his work with her on a weekly basis. Leonard is not well after a recent stroke and is trying desperately to get his final work out in the world, and at first sees Heather as a distraction before coming to appreciate her company, as well as her appreciation of his work; there is no greater aphrodisiac to an artist than finding someone to love their work. Early in their discussions, Heather kisses his hand and may in fact be infatuated with him - does she love him or his work? We think we know where this will go - a May-December romance for the ages with all the care and meaning of a sexual fling, but it's more than that; how much more I will leave you to discover. Meanwhile, Leonard has a daughter, Ariel (Lili Taylor), a 40-ish pilates instructor who desperately wants to have a baby - so desperately, in fact, that she is currently having unprotected sex with her boyfriend to "trick" him into having a baby, although she sees him more as a means to an end, not as part of the actual life of the child. She once broke up with the love of her life, Casey (Adrian Lester of "Primary Colors") because he didn't want children and, it's hinted, all but forced her to have an abortion - a decision neither one of them could withstand the strain of. When he comes back into her life unexpectedly, will either of them have the fortitude to see their relationship through this time? The film was directed and co-written by Andrew Wagner, who made the semi-autobiographical pseudo-documentary about his troublesome family, "The Talent Given Us" (2004). This film, based on a novel by Brian Morton, is just slightly more dramatic and less like a documentary. The characters are all bright, intelligent, thoughtful and literate people who are well-spoken and well-read, careful about the words they use, goal-oriented but sensitive to the needs of others. Frank Langella gives the performance of his career as Leonard, a fiercely smart, uncompromising but kind-eyed old soul who is afraid to move forward in his life and yet doesn't precisely want to remain in neutral either, though his work suggests otherwise. Ambrose is strong as the young firebrand who catches his fancy and attracts his intellect, an intelligent and well-read romantic who thinks she wants to be close to the man whose work inspired her to be a writer; how close is too close is unclear. This could've been simply about these two intellectual writers with a massive age difference coming to terms with one-another and, perhaps, falling in love, but I also cared for Ariel as the self-doubting (perhaps, indeed, self-loathing) daughter who is aging too quickly and can hear her biological clock echoing in her mind, and Casey as the well-meaning and nice young man who loves Ariel but has always put his own desires and needs first - at no point including having children on his radar screen. These four people are searching for, in their own way, love and happiness and some of them go about it in the wrong way, and some of them may never be completely happy; their struggles are believable and absorbing, never punched up for dramatic effect. The results are oddly fascinating and utterly moving; one of the year's best films!





NOTE: Nominated for Best Male Lead and Screenplay (Wagner and Fred Parnes) at the 2008 Independent Spirit Awards.

Charles Oliver's film is a slow-burning thriller, a gutwrenching drama with a fractured narrative, and a long anticipation in search of catharsis. When it finally does come, the results are somehow profoundly underwhelming. Minnie Driver is Ana, a maid, who is struggling to raise her ADHD-afflicted, behaviorally challenged son Jesse (Bobby Coleman). Ana is married to Marty Nichols (David Denman of TV's "The Office"), a school teacher who is too preoccupied with work to notice his own family and their issues. As the film opens, Ana is being informed that she must put her son in a special-education class because he is proving too difficult to teach for the class he's currently in. This is intercut with her long drive through the desert - toward what? Meanwhile, we meet Saul (Jeremy Renner), a troubled gambling addict who works for a storage company and auctions off the contents of lockers to customers to support his habit, which his boss discovers and subsequently fires him for. He is an astonishing loser in just about every sense, and owes $2,000 to a low-life criminal, hence the side-business. Then his car breaks down, gets assigned to steal a Range Rover, is beaten up, finds a gun and decides to rob a convenience store. We also see him awaiting execution in a big white room, having conversations with a prison chaplain, and anticipating - what? All these strands are intercut, and gradually it's revealed that Ana (sans husband) is traveling to have a conversation with the man before he dies. Eventually, we see how Ana's path was crossed with Saul's, and the tragedy that ensued. By that point, we find it increasingly hard to care. The film, written and directed by Charles Oliver, is a directorial debut and as such it shows promise, if not exactly tremendous skill. The events are put together out of chronological order, almost like an Inarritu or Tarantino film, so that we might piece together what happened when by the end of it; it might actually be simpler and easier to follow in the end than it actually appears throughout. What pulls us through are the performances by Driver and Renner, who create two convincing and heartwrenching characters brought together by unforeseen and unplanned circumstances with a tragic twist. Also, the cinematography by Tristan Whitman is quite gritty and beautiful at times, dark and stylish. The film reminded me a bit of Marc Forster's "Stay" (2005) without the trick ending; everything here appears more or less straight-forward despite the narrative somersaults. As a film, this is first-rate for its budgetary constraints. As a screenplay, there are bigger issues at work.

Writer-director Alex Gibney's Oscar-winning documentary is a horrifying, unblinking and appalling account, confirming your worst fears about the terrible, no-good, very bad things that your government is up to in the name of protecting "freedom." It begins with an inquiry into the mysterious disappearance of Dilawar, an Afghan taxi driver who was sold out by a paid informant, named as a terrorist, and taken to Bagram Air Base, an American prison facility in Afghanistan, where he was subsequently tortured to death. Your hard-earned tax dollars at work, no? Gibney ("Enron: The Smartest Guys in the Room") then takes to looking into the scandal over the torture going on at Guantanamo Bay and Abu Ghraib - the site of the infamous photos leaked of US soldiers "interrogating" (read: humiliating) prisoners beyond the call of "duty." Gibney gives us interviews with several US officials and former officials, all of whom testify with remarkable candor and, in some cases, remorse about the terrible things they did, or allowed their subordinates to do in the name of "national security." In 2006, Bush signed his own pardon, stretching just to himself and his Administration, leaving the soldiers who were following orders out to dry, to be court-martialed and given jail time for "doing their job." To do such things to another human being is wrong, no matter the reason. Should the soldiers in question have disobeyed such orders? It would be easy for any one of us sitting here to diagree with their decisions to go along with it, but it would be hard to resist if we were only in their shoes. Something to think about.

In "Teeth," the debut of writer-director Mitchell Lichtenstein, the filmmaker has crafted the oddest mixture of horror and comedy since Lucky McKee's "May" (2003). I was also a little reminded of "Carrie" (1976) by way of John Waters.

Jess Weixler gives a tough but interesting performance as Dawn, a somewhat puritanical young high school student whose budding sexuality is at odds with her fanatical system of belief in her own chastity, as well as that of others around her.

Soon, Dawn finds herself the target of a series of young men (including a stepbrother played by John Hensley from TV's "Nip/Tuck") interested in just one thing: deflowering the perpetual virgin.

There's just one problem: she has something called "vagina dentata" (Latin, we learn, literally translating to "vagina teeth") and whenever a boy and his member enter her body, (or an OBGYN's fingers) it's as if her privates are a Venus fly trap and snap off whatever enters it; like a set of shark teeth.

The film is creepy, and odd, and sometimes funny, and ultimately a show of promise for Lichtenstein and Weixler in the future.

Paul Thomas Anderson's much-anticipated epic is the quintessentially American masterwork we've been waiting for for a long time. It is a combination horror film, black comedy and epic portrait of two characters so consumed by greed, vindictiveness, misanthropy and evil that they are mesmerizing even as they repulse.



Daniel Day-Lewis is Daniel Plainview, the silver miner in 1898 New Mexico (at the outset) who eventually makes his way to California to be a self-proclaimed "oil man." Once there, he meets first Paul and then identical twin (? - or are they one in the same?) Eli Sunday (BOTH played by Paul Dano of "Little Miss Sunshine" and "L.I.E."), the former telling Daniel of the family's goat farm in the middle of nowhere, and the latter being a zealous, Evangelical faith healer whose Church of the Third Revelation is his sole passion.



Plainview is a horrific monster movie villain in the best sense of the word: he runs roughshod over everyone and everything, destroying all in his path. Dano is meek, small and humbly innocent-seeming by contrast, making him just as dangerous, if not more so (Plainview sees this clearly from the outset).



Plainview is a user of "these people" around him (including an adopted son who he attains as a very young business partner in the aftermath of the boy's biological father's violent death via misadventure). The scenes between Daniel and his son H.W. (played by newcomer Dillon Freasier) have an almost warm, heartfelt tone that is missing from EVERY SINGLE OTHER CONTACT that Plainview has with humanity. What Plainview does to H.W. is, ultimately, the beginning of the end for him and the film (though it may also be the ONE SOURCE of regret and repentance in his soul).



Plainview is a misanthropic loner who would probably live on the moon were it possible in the early 20th Century to do so (1898-1927 is the span of the picture). He has a magnificent mini-monologue about his "hatreds being built up over the years" that brings down the house!



Then there's the ending, about which the less said the better. I will simply say this: for those who read the screenplay, the on-the-nose nature of the final showdown between Daniel and Eli is missing here, but the twisted humor is still in tact!



Day-Lewis chews the scenery with relish, and Dano matches him almost measure for measure. This is definitely Day-Lewis' film though, as his portrait of a villain is the most horrific and weirdly lovable since...well, since he was Bill the Butcher in Scorsese's "Gangs of New York" (2002).



Writer-director Paul Thomas Anderson has employed his usual crack team of collaborators, including longtime editor Dylan Tichenor, who lends the film a nice (appropriately) deliberate pace; Robert Elswit, whose camera snakes its way through the rough & tumble post-Old West landscape of New Mexico and California with great aplomb; and Radiohead musician Jonny Greenwood's original score, which is by turns warm and lush, cold and violent, underlies the whole enterprise with unspoken tension even in the most mundane scenes!



Much comparison has been made to "Citizen Kane" and "Giant" and those may be apt milemarkers for Anderson's achievement, but I was oddly reminded of Stanley Kubrick's "Barry Lyndon" (1975). The story of a similarly misanthropic (or, at least, uncaring) young man who rose through the ranks to become a wealthy and powerful man who was, ultimately alone, it's a story often told, and just as well now as it was back then (the final credits music by Brahms doesn't hurt the feeling of similarity).



A film like this, though not Anderson's best work, is still a GREAT film and well worth seeking out. Much awards attention has already been bestowed upon the remarkable work done herein, and it is all well-deserved. This is almost the best film of 2007! Nominated for 8 Oscars including Best Picture, a tie with my #5 pick!

Oh, what a sad film this is! Danish filmmaker Susanne Bier directed this deliberately-paced, dark but hopeful melodrama about loss, forgiveness, and rejuvination. Halle Berry stars as Audrey Burke, an artist in Seattle and mother of two (a 6-year-old boy with a fear of dunking his head in the swimming pool, and a 10-year-old girl with a penchant for basketball). She is newly widowed when her husband Brian (David Duchovny) is gunned down in the midst of an act of domestic violence he happens to witness. That was always like Brian, being the Good Samaritan and going out of his way to help those who couldn't be helped. Audrey particularly resents this trait when it comes to Brian's best friend since childhood, Jerry (Benicio Del Toro, solid as ever), who she "forgets" to tell about Brian, and invites last-minute to the funeral. Jerry is a recovering heroin addict in need of a fresh start. Offering him a place to stay in her home, Audrey and Jerry work together to pick up the pieces of their fractured lives. This process is aided by a girl from Jerry's NA support group named Kelly (an unrecognizable Alison Lohman), who takes to Jerry and sees in him an opportunity to do some good; this guy seems to draw that sort of attention like a flame draws moths. The film is sort of split into two halves, the first being the present, interspersed with seemingly random flashbacks to the marriage and the tragedy that led to the present, and the second half or so is more just straight-forward. This is a modern soap opera not quite to rival the works of Fassbinder or Almodovar, but it's a respectable effort. Actually, I was somewhat reminded of the works of Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu, particularly the dour little gem "21 Grams" (2003) - not least because of the chronological leap-frogging, Del Toro's performance, the cinematography, and the theme of sudden loss and the almost inexplicable need to move on right after. Bier is a little too content to give us close-ups on big eyes, and a few developments occur just a bit too abruptly, piling up one after another, but in a melodrama that's to be expected - and forgiven.

Writer-director Nacho Vigalondo's mildly intriguing sci-fi/horror thriller is an alternatingly fascinating and confounding piece of work. An unassuming married man spies a woman across the way from his backyard and investigates, only to stumble into a nearby lab and accidentally enter a time machine. Much confusion ensues.

R, 77 min, 2007

Thomas McCarthy's brilliant but simple study of a lonely professor (a widower) who has an apartment he hasn't been to in years. In New York City for a weekend seminar, the Connecticut professor finds a couple of foreign squatters in his old apartment and lets them stay. The man is a Syrian drummer and his girl is a Senegalese jewelry maker who sells her wares in the Saturday market. They soon become good friends but a misunderstanding poises the Syrian for deportation. This is a powerful film centered on a lovely performance of few words by recurring "Six Feet Under" guest star Richard Jenkins. Hiam Abbass is wonderful as the Syrian's mother, who might want to help Jenkins' professor through his lonely life. Simply put, this is a wonderful film.





NOTE: This was deservedly nominated for a 2008 Oscar for Best Actor.

Jake Kasdan's outrageous parody of musical biopics is a tasteless, profane, over-the-top affair that somehow manages to be fairly believable as it follows the contours of films like "Ray" (2004) and "Walk the Line" (2005). John C. Reilly is Dewey Cox, a young man from the South who played with machetes as a child, much to the detriment of his brother one day, whom he accidentally afflicts with what the doctor calls "A particularly bad case of someone being cut in half." Immediately, Dewey's father (Raymond J. Barry from "Born on the Fourth of July," among others) takes to saying "The wrong kid died," as his dead son's promise is now snuffed out. Nevertheless, Dewey's mother (Margo Martindale) remains as supportive as she can be. Dewey grows up a bit and a concert in junior high school (Reilly plays himself at age 14) ends particularly badly in a violent riot and a religious furvor over what the pastor calls "the Devil's music." I dunno, it sounded rather innocent to me. Practically run out on a rail, Dewey and his childhood sweetheart (Kristen Wiig) must improvise. No matter: Dewey has a future outside of this podunk town anywho. Dewey and his young wife take to the suburbs and attempt to find themselves, though his wife says "You're never gonna make it in the music businessness" even after he has a no. 1 hit song on the radio. Dewey cycles through styles and time periods, addictions and rehabilitation clinics, gag after gag. Along the way, he meets singer/musician Darlene (Jenna Fischer from "The Office") and they get married, only to realize that they've let Dewey's previous marriage become an afterthought - he wasn't divorced. Why can't a famous person be married to two women at the same time? Throughout the years, Dewey's supported by longtime bandmates (including Chris Parnell and Tim Meadows). His style changes from Johnny Cash-esque to Bob Dylan-esque (Why don't the press ever ask Dylan why he copies Cox instead of the other way around?). Various celebrities pass through Dewey's field of vision, including Elvis (Jack White of the White Stripes; looked like Giovanni Ribisi to me) and the Beatles (played by Jack Black, Paul Rudd, Jason Schwartzman and Justin Long!). The film features a "bad trip" on acid complete with animation. The film was directed by Jake Kasdan ("Zero Effect," "The TV Set"), who co-wrote with Judd Apatow ("The 40-Year-Old Virgin" and "Knocked Up"). They pretty much have a go-for-broke mentality, with off-color humor, in-jokes and political incorrectness up the ying-yang. Perhaps the best things that can be said for this film is that it is very well-made, copying convincingly the look of the biopics it lampoons, while Reilly embodies a potentially great musician who was a has-been in record time, only to recover. That, and the film is very, very funny.



NOTE: The Extended Edition runs 120 minutes on DVD.

Paul Schrader's neo-noir-ish thriller is yet another of his seedy character studies about professional men who go out into the night and apply their unique qualities to a particular vocation. Carter Page III (Woody Harrelson) is the aging, homosexual son of a Southern senator who once investigated Watergate. "Car" as he's known to his friends is something called a "walker," a gentleman who escorts female society types from one place to another. His clients meet weekly for a card game - mostly to engage in gossip and witty one-liners; they include Natalie Van Miter (Lauren Bacall), Abigail Delorean (Lily Tomlin), who is married to the rich and powerful Jack Delorean (Ned Beatty), and Lynn Lockner (Kristin Scott Thomas), whose husband, Senator Larry Lockner (Willem Dafoe), trusts Carter to transport her to weekly meetings with a male prostitute (Steven Hartley). One day, Lynn discovers her young boyfriend murdered and informs Carter, who goes back to the scene of the crime and looks around. Having been seen by a neighbor wiping his fingerprints off the door handle, Carter (I assume thinking he can explain it away as the paranoia of a germaphobe) calls 9-1-1 to report that he discovered the body, leading to him being the lead suspect of Detective Dixon (Geff Francis) and, particularly, of overzealous U.S. Attorney Mungo Tenant (William Hope). The investigation goes on to include Carter's lover, Turkish paparazzo and aspiring art gallery photographer Emek Yoglu (Moritz Bleibtreu from "Run Lola Run"). As the net tightens, and as Carter uses his status as a Southern gentleman and the charm which comes with it, the film plunges head-first into a seamy underbelly full of politics, gossip, intrigue and sleaze. Paul Schrader is the legendary screenwriter turned director who first explored the "man in a room" theme with his 1980 hit "American Gigolo," starring Richard Gere as a wealthy older woman's male prostitute. He continued with "Light Sleeper" (1992), starring Willem Dafoe as the uncommonly introspective drug dealing companion of an aspiring businesswoman (Susan Sarandon). Now, he has explored political intrigue and murder through the eyes of a gay escort. Harrelson is rather perfect in the role of a man who never gained his father's approval, who is constantly surrounded by aging, beautiful women, and who seems to see his station in life as being a platonic companion for the lonely and powerful of the fairer sex. The plot is a mild labyrinth in which Carter must use his connections, his wits and his knowledge of the Washington, D.C. power structure to come to an understanding of who would've killed his charge's lover and why. Ultimately, this is an effective and sorta fascinating thriller.

Mike White's film is a sunny-looking dark comedy, hiding a sardonic core just under a basically bright, cheerful and delightful surface. Molly Shannon (of "Saturday Night Live") stars as Peggy, a somewhat introverted, vaguely shy secretary who is deeply in love with her pet beagle, Pencil. Try as she might, Peggy just isn't a people person: she makes her nice boss Robin (Josh Pais) uncomfortable, she tries awkwardly to make conversation with and offer food to her co-workers, yet only seems to have one friend at the office, her good friend Layla (Regina King), who is in a long-standing and increasingly negative relationship with the womanizing Don (Dale Godboldo). Peggy has a brother, Pier (Thomas McCarthy), who is ecstatically (if inexplicably so) married to the almost Stepford ideal of a wife, Bret (Laura Dern). Pier and Bret live in a sunny, cheerful suburban world where their infant is the light of their life and their young daughter is not allowed to be exposed to anything even remotely negative or "rough" - including the "dark subject matter" of such family fare as "Babe," and we're thinking, What cereal commercial did you guys walk out of? Peggy lives next door to Al (John C. Reilly), a vaguely nice-seeming guy whose bushes are covered in a poisonous substance. Then, one tragic night, Peggy lets Pencil out and he seems drawn to the substance like catnip; the next day he's dead. Peggy is devastated at first, and then meets Newt (Peter Sarsgaard), a kindly vet's office employee who points her toward adopting a new dog named Valentine. This sets off a chain reaction in Peggy, causing her to try hard to be a better person - she becomes a vegan ("Organic and Free Range is still murder"), she starts adopting farm animals for her family, she donates some of her boss's money to an animal rescue organization, and she wholeheartedly devotes herself to trying to get friends and co-workers to adopt the many sheltered dogs that need a home. This kind of Good Samaritanism has a bad side, and it comes back to haunt her viciously. Mike White, who wrote and directed, is the famed actor-screenwriter of many odd, quirky projects, ranging from "Chuck & Buck" (2000), which as I recall made me feel like bugs were crawling under my skin, to "The Good Girl" (2002) with Jennifer Aniston as a Wal-Mart esque employee who begins an affair with her young co-worker (Jake Gyllenhaal). He also wrote such Jack Black vehicles as "Orange County" (2002), "School of Rock" (2003) and the deplorable "Nacho Libre" (2006) as well as created the short-lived primetime TV soap opera "Pasadena" (2001-02). Here, in his directorial debut, White has constructed a film that Todd Solondz might be proud of - not exploring the hidden dark depravities of a seemingly "normal person," but rather making you laugh and then feel rotten shortly there after, only to make you legitimately laugh at something "safe" minutes later. In Peggy, White and Molly Shannon have created an odd, funny and surprisingly sympathetic woman, good-hearted, who reminds me of that William H. Macy line from Paul Thomas Anderson's "Magnolia" (1999): "I really do have lots of love to give, I just don't know where to put it." By this film's end, Peggy has more or less found where to "put" her love, and the results are sometimes funny, sometimes moving and ultimately kind of poignant.

David Fincher's "Zodiac" is the director's first foray back into the darkly lit world of a serial killer since his 1995 breakthrough, "Se7en." In its own epic, uniquely fascinating true-crime way, "Zodiac" is just about as good!

Jake Gyllenhaal stars as Robert Graysmith, upon whose true-crime expose books the film is based, a San Francisco Chronicle cartoonist with a zeal and passion for unsolvable puzzles. He meets his match when he cracks a code sent to the paper by the notorious "Zodiac," a masked murderer (never caught) who terrorized the Bay Area in the late 60s and into the 70s.

Graysmith has two detectives (Mark Ruffalo and a surprising Anthony Edwards, formerly of "ER"-fame), a fellow reporter (Robert Downey Jr.) and his own children at his disposal, and still the exact nature of who or what the Zodiac was has washed away with time.

The film has a major suspect (Graysmith and the cops' opinion of who Zodiac was) - Arthur Lee Allan (played with chilling aplomb by John Carroll Lynch, of "Fargo"), who looms over every scene he's in with the distinct sense that he could've been the Zodiac killer. With Allan now long-since dead, we'll never know. But the Zodiac killings stopped all those years ago and the mystery remains unsolved.

Fincher's film is stylistically brilliant, re-creating the world of that time, place, etc. better than any film of this type since Spike Lee's "Summer of Sam" (1999). It's an astonishing film.