Erix Pix Movie Reviews

Anyone who knows me, knows that I LOVE movies! And it should come as no surprise to any of you that I love to talk about movies too! So, my goal is to put my movie musings (or 'reviews',if you will) on this site for your perusal. Take them for what they are worth. I have rated them with my "Popcorn Bag" Rating System (see the chart below). I have also linked the official movie websites to the photo for each film I review. I hope you find this information useful!

Popcorn Bag Rating System
	Above and beyond! Don't miss this one!
	Very well done, not perfect, but close! You should see it!
	Good effort! Flawed, but has some redeeming qualities!
	Oh my, my, my... Not the end of the world, but close!
	(head in my hands) The end of the world. BAD!

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Little Miss Sunshine
Rated R	In "Little Miss Sunshine," the extended Hoover clan piles into a rickety yellow Volkswagen van and heads from Albuquerque to a kiddie beauty pageant in Redondo Beach, so 7-year-old Olive can get a shot at a tiara. Partway there, the clutch goes out and can't be repaired in time. To start the VW, able family members must push and then make a dash for the moving vehicle. The first shot of three generations of Hoovers -- from Olive (the beyond-adorable Abigail Breslin) and her brother (Paul Dano), to Mom (Toni Collette) and her brother, Frank (Steve Carell), to Grandpa (Alan Arkin) -- racing alongside a camper gingerly steered by Dad (Greg Kinnear) is as side-splittingly hilarious as the zaniest fix the Ricardos ever got themselves in. Remarkably, the visual gag remains fresh and funny the next time. During the setup for the family's third trot, however, you think it can't possibly work again. But it does, and from that point on you can only marvel at filmmakers Jonathan Dayton and Valerie Faris' unerring ability to gauge just how far they -- along with the sputtering van -- can go. Their sly, near-perfect comedy seems to come from nowhere. It's a first feature for Dayton and Faris as well as screenwriter Michael Arndt, an awesomely original voice in a profession that rewards imitation. I like to think "Little Miss Sunshine" dropped from celluloid heaven as a sign that, despite continual evidence to the contrary, movie miracles still happen. The dysfunctional Hoover family is dysfunctional in its own way. It's a blended household (Mom is on her second marriage) with a lot of lumps. But as eccentric as everyone is, you'll be able to recognize something of yourself or your kin in them, and it's this connection that provides the movie's power. Pipe dreaming is not an unusual practice, but Olive is her father's daughter in the extreme she takes it to. He's a motivational speaker who naively believes he can spin off his prosaic nine-step program for success into books and videos -- much as Olive, with her fresh-scrubbed looks and tiny potbelly, thinks she has a chance to beat scary JonBenet Ramsey look-alikes. Everybody can relate to feeling jealous, although hopefully not to the extent Frank does. He's been put in his sister's care after slitting his wrists because a fellow Proust scholar, whom he considers his inferior, won a genius grant on top of stealing Frank's boyfriend. Still on suicide watch, Frank has no choice but to accompany the Hoovers to the beauty contest. Is Grandpa loony because he snorts heroin on the road -- insisting that at his age what does it matter -- or because he regrets not sleeping with lots of women when he was young and virile, or is he expressing thoughts common to elderly people? He puts himself in charge of teaching Olive her dance moves, which -- for a reason that doesn't become clear until the talent competition -- include growling. Truly magical moments evolve from the entire family's love for this precious little girl. It's the tie that binds them throughout a road trip from hell. Dayton and Faris, husband-and-wife music video directors, have the good sense not to muck around with a beguiling script by imposing distracting visual effects. Showing the van's shadow on a highway barrier is about as fancy as the pair gets. "Little Miss Sunshine" is just plain fantastic straightforward storytelling. The cast is so perfect that it's impossible to imagine anyone else in the roles. Arkin's spontaneity gives the impression that he's improvising. Kinnear embodies the hyped-up energy of a gambler sure his next card will beat the house. He and Collette effectively use body language to convey the frustrations of a couple trying to hold it together for the kids. The two have almost no physical contact. A scene where they verbally lash out at each other is particularly well acted. Even in such heady company, Carell, whose success in "The 40 Year Old Virgin" established him as more than just a television face, comes close to making this his movie. His well-honed comic instincts are evident in the way Frank intently follows the family's disjointed conversations with his eyes -- as if watching a tennis match -- and in his quickened pace to get to the pageant registration desk when the Hoovers, delayed by one crisis after another, arrive in Redondo Beach late. There's no more fitting final destination than California, the land of promise for generations of families seeking to improve their lot. But "Little Miss Sunshine" is really more about getting there. You'll be delighted, if a bit breathless from laughing, to be along for the ride. Return to List
Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest
Rated PG-13	It is arguably the most important "don't" in the critic's book of rules, but I am going to break it right now and reveal how "Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest" ends. It doesn't. Oh, the final credits run, and you will be asked to leave the theater so that the ushers can tidy up for the next show. But the complex story set in motion in this sequel to the massive 2003 hit is only half-told by the time the nearly 21/2-hour film is over. "Dead Man's Chest" wraps up on cliffhangers and surprises and the slight sense that you've been had. It's half a movie. Know that going in, and you will be spared some outrage. But know, too, that you're gonna have to come back next year -- and pay once again -- to see the story through. And for some people that might be one casting-off too many on this particular voyage. Big and noisy and somewhat rambling, "Dead Man's Chest" can't, of course, surprise us with the rascally antics of its immortal hero, Captain Jack Sparrow, or its delicious vision of the life of piracy, or its blend of old-fashioned adventure and supernatural magic. The last film did all that. So this one follows the route taken by most sequels to successful blockbusters: knowing references to the original, expanded roles for characters who had winning cameos the first time, and an altogether grander and more expensive vision of things, especially the action. There's a little less Captain Jack than you'd like, perhaps, and the sense of ramshackle high jinks feels a tad more forced. But "Dead Man's Chest" sufficiently resembles the first film that the heartiest fans should be content (depending, of course, on how they feel about that sucker-punch ending). On, then, to the further adventures of Captain Jack, his comrades-in-arms good Will Turner and intrepid Elizabeth Swann, his crew, his enemies and -- and you just knew he had more of 'em -- his ghosts. At the start of the film, they're all on their own: Jack is escaping yet another fine mess, and Will and Elizabeth are about to be married. But their pasts are about to catch up with them in dire fashion. Jack is visited by Bootstrap Bill Turner, Will's dad, who works in the hellish employ of the legendary Davy Jones and has come with the news that Jones is after Jack's dandyish soul. And the Turner-Swann nuptials are busted up by the nebbishy villain Cutler Beckett, who has orders to arrest and hang Will and Elizabeth unless they help him track down Jack -- or, more specifically, Jack's magic compass. The compass, you see, will lead whomever possesses it to a chest in which Jones has hidden his still-beating heart away. And, as Jones controls the seas with his vicious determination and his command of a ghastly tentacled beast that can scuttle whole ships in one fell swoop, to control Jones' heart is to control the Caribbean and its riches. Off they all race -- Will and Elizabeth in pursuit of Jack, Jack in pursuit of the chest and the key to it, octopus-faced Jones in pursuit of Jack, and director Gore Verbinksi and his crew in pursuit of one over-the-top action sequence after another. There are comic bits such as Jack's efforts to free himself from an island tribe who would worship him by cooking and eating him, there are terrifying attacks by the sea monster on various vessels and the sailors who man them, there are sword fights (including a particularly fanciful one inside the run-amok water wheel of a mill), and there are battles with Jones and his barnacle-encrusted minions, a grisly bunch if ever the sea saw such. Although "Dead Man's Chest" is unquestionably stuffed with eye-popping moments, they become a little tiring when they are clearly taking the place of the scrumptious human elements that made the first film so wonderful. As it happens, when you come to that rip-off of an ending and realize that you've watched only the first half of a five-hour film, you know why the thing feels lax. Rather than craft the thing tightly and jettison the excesses, however cool they may be, the filmmakers have stretched -- and lost a little something in the reaching. Climb aboard and have fun, by all means. But don't be surprised if you feel a little marooned when it's over. Return to List
Superman Returns
Rated PG-13	As we all know, Superman is the Zeus in the pantheon of comic-book superheroes: the first of our pulp culture's do-gooder man-gods, the longest lasting (68 years), the most fanatically followed and the one with the most complex mythology. Superman also is a premise that has worked in virtually all media: comic books, comic strips, animation, the radio (where much of his back story was developed), four television series over 50 years and a big-budget movie cycle in the '70s and '80s. He also works in Superman Returns, an immensely satisfying revival and continuation of that Warner Bros. movie series, which comes to us after a lag of 19 years with a new Superman (Brandon Routh) and some $180 million worth of digital effects. It's not quite a runaway success, the casting is hit-and-miss and there's nothing hugely innovative in the story line or the effects. In an era full of superhero movies, it's not likely to have anything close to the impact of the '79 version with Christopher Reeve. But the film is magnificently mounted, it moves like a speeding bullet and it's so respectful of Superman traditions that even the pickiest of die-hard fans should love it. After a lapse of two decades, it revitalizes the franchise and makes it seem fresh and alive. The story has Superman returning to Earth after a five-year sojourn in which he's been exploring a fragment of his home planet Krypton that has been floating around the universe since its destruction. (Exactly why it took him five years to do this is not explained.) He crash-lands on the Kent family farm, has a tearful reunion with his widowed mother (Eva Marie Saint) and returns to Metropolis, where he finds Lois Lane (Kate Bosworth) has a small child and a Pulitzer Prize for an article on "Why the World Doesn't Need Superman." The Man of Steel also finds that his nemesis, Lex Luthor (Kevin Spacey), has gotten out of jail, uncovered the Fortress of Solitude and is using the secrets stored there to fuel another of his ambitious, genocidal real-estate deals. As Superman sets out to stop him, the ghost that hangs over the movie is the late Christopher Reeve, whose looks, dash and deadpan humor made him the definitive Superman and whose grit in the wake of his tragic accident made him a symbol of never-give-up courage. It's a tough act to follow and Routh doesn't quite do it. Still, he's likable, he has charisma, he looks like a cross between Reeve and Tom Cruise, he mimics Reeve's charm well in several scenes and he's about the best we could expect in an impossible situation. The same cannot be said for much of the rest of the casting, including Frank Langella, Parker Posey, James Marsden -- all surprisingly lackluster -- and Kate Bosworth, whose somber Lois has none of the spunky appeal Margot Kidder brought to the role. Effects junkies also may reasonably complain that, for all its mega-budget, the visuals of the first CGI-enhanced Superman do not exactly boggle the senses, advance the art form or seem that much more impressive that the non-digital work in "Superman" I and II. But, while hardly groundbreaking, the visual effect of a man convincingly soaring through the air still imparts quite a thrill, and director Bryan Singer skillfully uses it to carry the movie and anchor several exhilarating action sequences. And some of the film's weaker casting choices are made up for by Kevin Spacey, whose Lex Luthor strikes just the right chord of cheeky demented genius and gives the film an agreeable touch of comedy and anarchy. It's his best movie performance since American Beauty. Above all, the film works off the dedication of writer-director Singer ("X-Men" I and II), whose love of Superman tradition and the Superman movies is legendary, and who turned down the third "X-Men" for the chance to direct this film. Instead of trying to reinvent or modernize Superman, Singer has struggled to retain the things we love about him, taking him into the 21st century but retaining his '30s newspaper world, where the Internet has no presence and eager cub reporters still wear bow ties. Singer finds just the right tone to tell his story, winking at some of the absurdities of the premise (no one notices Superman and Clark Kent look alike) but otherwise taking it seriously, and avoiding the tongue-in-cheek self-awareness that ruined "Superman" III and IV. His film is, at its core, a kind of museum of Superman: reusing the irresistible John Williams score, re-creating the original film's title sequence, loading it with cameo appearances of "Superman" movie and TV veterans, and obscure references to the mythos. At the same time, the film has a life and pull of its own that comes from Singer's unique vision and desire to revitalize the character and make him relevant. It's a nice blend, and it gives "Superman Returns" a spark that few action blockbusters of its class can match. Return to List
A Prairie Home Companion
Rated PG-13	A Prairie Home Companion is a down-home-exquisite musical dramedy. It fills you with a joyful noise even when the subject is mortality. Working from a script by Garrison Keillor, with some of the personalities and/or characters from Keillor's radio show of the same name, the director, Robert Altman, achieves a homespun-gossamer texture. That's a miracle for a movie about a buttoned-up Minnesotan, Keillor, known here as "GK," hosting an old-fashioned live variety program with a cast of radio performers whose messy lives intersect uproariously and unexpectedly with their on-air personae. The movie revolves around "the Axeman," a corporate honcho from Texas (Tommy Lee Jones) arriving at the Fitzgerald Theater in St. Paul to bring down the final curtain on Keillor's company. Kevin Kline's Guy Noir, private eye and security guard, attempts to undercut the Axeman and tries to solve the mystery of the Dangerous Woman (Virginia Madsen), whose "hair was the color God had in mind when He said, 'Let there be hair.'" Less a plot than a premise, it allows Altman and Keillor to navigate relationships that pop up, recur and end - like the complex tissue that makes up a company's season, the run of a show or a life. The songs and tall tales that unspool on stage and off revolve around family. With a light and natural fizz, the movie revives the old notion of family as a metaphor for a performing troupe. The terrific ensemble includes Meryl Streep and Lily Tomlin as Yolanda and Rhonda Johnson, the remaining members of a four-woman sister act, with Lindsay Lohan as Lola, Yolanda's daughter. And Woody Harrelson and John C. Reilly give a cowboy buddy duo, Dusty and Lefty, the goading affection of brothers. Best of all, L.Q. Jones brings quietly fervent emotion to a wizened veteran named Chuck Akers, who warmly and stingingly warbles the A.P. Carter tune "You Have Been a Friend to Me." Jones inspires smiles and pangs in equal measure: He and Chuck Akers, both, have stayed juicy as they've mellowed. This actor and this character provide the heart of a movie celebrating ties that endure and traditions that thrive as long as performers unite to renew them and delight audiences. Robert Altman is still going strong at 81. He hasn't lost his appetite for unruly life. But he puts his energy into catching his collaborators' flow rather than battling mainstream currents. He epitomizes the director not as a galvanizing firebrand but as a savoring talent. He catalyzes his actors' originality and observes their behavior with alertness, wry bemusement, and here an extraordinary tenderness. Keillor provides shaggy-dog dialogues about parents, siblings, lovers, husbands and friends. They keep the laughter percolating. The movie soars on the breathtaking, rib-tickling action and music-making that unfold in front of your eyes. At times, the unpredictable Yolanda and Tomlin's gutsy, rooted Rhonda register like a squiggly question mark next to a stark exclamation point - one way of saying that Streep is so spontaneously brilliant and affecting that she turns the great comedienne Tomlin into a superb straight woman. But it's more than that. They show you what each of them gets from being a sister. Streep has never done a better job of externalizing a character's neediness without underlining it, whether Yolanda reminisces about her family losses or alludes to a past affair with GK or subtly sizes up her daughter Lola, who writes poems about suicide and death. Streep makes Yolanda alternately histrionic and matter-of-fact. You can see her Minnesotan reserve wrestle with impulse, just as you see her sexual desire wrestle with GK's implacable deadpan. She's never better than when on the air with Rhonda. When they rename "Old Folks at Home" "My Old Minnesota Home," wedding their idiosyncratic voices to an antique tune, they're ideal instruments for Keillor's marriage of new words to handed-down lyrics. Yolanda's occasional showboating (Streep has an amazingly strong and supple voice) can make you laugh. But when she and Tomlin team perfectly to reminisce about the aunts and uncles "who loved us when we were young" they convey the full beauty of the lyric - and choke everyone up. "Who loved us when we were young" is a key line; it gets repeated when the sisters sing a Keillor original, "Goodbye to My Mama." And Lohan proves herself (and Lola) a worthy addition to the clan. In the early going, she makes adolescent petulance and morbidity attractive. When she explodes on-stage, she does so in a manner that's comically fractured, wholehearted and gratifying. Altman and Keillor fill the movie to the brim with small, rooted pleasures. Harrelson transforms Dusty into a droll musical yarn-spinner who can seem understated even at his down-and-dirtiest. Reilly proves an ideal partner as Lefty and brings off his own scatological showcase with a sublime combination of helplessness and chagrin. Even if you've never been a devotee of A Prairie Home Companion, Altman hooks you on Keillor's dry wit and emotional appeal. As a confounding, reserved character resisting all distraction during his last broadcast, he becomes a comic monument to integrity. Because of him, and Altman, the film is a salute to the rarest individuals - the ones who just can't help being themselves. Return to List
Cars
Rated G	Pixar's beguiling comedy-drama Cars, the latest alternate universe envisioned by computer-animation pioneer John Lasseter (the Toy Story movies, A Bug's Life), contains no humans, only automobiles that have human features: eyeballs in the middle of their windshields, eyebrows at the top of them, and mouths and teeth under the grilles. These cars overflow with heart, wit and new ideas. And the picture has a moviemaking fearlessness that conventional directors would be wise to emulate. At a time when blockbuster directors panic at the thought of slackening their pace and giving an audience time to feel something, Lasseter turns a portrait of hot-shot Lightning McQueen (Owen Wilson), a racer with issues, into a salute to slowing down and savoring life. It's about knowing when to stay in the fast lane and when to high-tail out of it. The movie begins with a splurge of color and movement at the running of the Piston Cup - a race that Lightning charges through with a go-for-broke brashness that triggers a messy, unprecedented three-way tie. But en route to an epochal race-off in Los Angeles, Lightning rips up the main drag of a dusty Southwestern burg called Radiator Springs and gets a day in court. The town's judge, Doc Hudson (Paul Newman), also its trusty mechanic, immediately takes Lightning's measure as a car too impatient and self-absorbed to be a winner - a flashy loser who should be sent on his way. But town attorney and motel owner Sally Carrera (Bonnie Hunt), a 2002 Porsche, nudges Doc into sentencing Lightning to community service: repaving Radiator Springs' Main Street. The Pixar team's knack for visual and verbal jokes that knock you silly, often in unexpected combinations, has never been more pleasingly punchy. It's immediately ticklish to see a fetching blue sports car like Sally cause a bright-red stock car like Lightning to pop his eyes and form his mouth into a hopeful smirk. When he asks, "How's a Porsche wind up in a place like this?" - and Sally says, "I fell in love" - Lightning sighs, "Oh ... a Corvette?" If you have any soft spot for cheerful American pop, the interchange just kills you. The most engaging thing about Cars is: Sally answers, no, it was the town she fell in love with. The towering beauty of "Ornament Valley," with buttes and mesas shaped like hood ornaments, and the homely charms of Radiator Springs, one of Route 66's battered, eccentric hamlets, eventually work over Lightning. Gradually, he regains emotions and a soul. Lasseter and his animators and writers use unconventional characters to tap into every aspect of America's love for cars - as vehicles of self-expression and experimentation as well as speed. Sarge, the Army jeep who's dying to put SUVs through basic training, lives next to Fillmore, the 1960 VW bus who cooks up his own alternate fuels and inveighs against big-oil conspiracies. Ramone, the customizing king of Ramone's Body Art, an Impala with pin-stripes and flaming details, is married to All-American Flo, the tail-finned, two-tone aqua-and-white show car with parking lights that register as dimples. The eponymous proprietor of Luigi's Casa Della Tires, a 1959 Fiat 500 with a yen for Ferraris, has a wonderful taste for retro accessories (he prefers white-walls) and a sidekick named Guido who's nothing more than a pint-sized Italian forklift. The love story that evolves is remarkably persuasive for a cartoon or for any contemporary romantic comedy. The lovers don't jarringly clash; Sally and Lightning are simply at different stages in their life trajectories. Mater (Larry the Cable Guy), the snaggle-toothed tow truck of "Tow Mater Towing and Salvage," becomes the attracting opposite whose pull on Lightning helps transform him. Just as Sally elevates Lightning to high-school/college flirtation level, Mater provides a stabilizing buddyhood. With ineffable rusty warmth, Mater brings out the base-level humanity in self-deprecating schoolyard jokes, like saying his pal Sally "loves me for my body." Pixar always turns in-jokes inside out, so that everyone can enjoy them. Lasseter employs Jeremy Piven, the super-agent from HBO's hot show The Entourage, as Harv. Tom and Ray Magliozzi, the hosts of NPR's Car Talk, become Rusty and Dusty Rust-Eze, Lightning's savvy, regular-guy sponsors. Overall, this may be Pixar's best-cast movie yet. Wilson and Hunt make a peppy couple. Lasseter jettisons Wilson's usual drawling for hepped-up chatter, and Hunt gets to be the breezy, winsome and irresistible Jean Arthur heroine she was born to be. Newman, as Doc Hudson, can do gravelly wisdom without a touch of the blowhard, and Paul Dooley, as Sarge, shoots straight barbs at George Carlin's Fillmore, who returns nothing but curves. Tony Shalhoub and Cheech Marin imbue Luigi and Ramone (respectively) with juicy ethnicity. Even as that constant ranter Chick Hicks, Michael Keaton reminds us of his full-throttle commitment as an actor. Lasseter's inclusive, utterly distinctive sensibility makes Cars all that it can be. His embrace of the comic-dramatic friction between innovation and tradition infiltrates every aspect of the movie - the look, the characters, the story. Without anything as conventional as a simple win, the wrap-up, like the movie, is completely winning. Return to List
Over the Hedge
Rated G	Rarely have critters frolicked more hilariously than in Over the Hedge, a movie that should amuse all but the newborn or dead. This first animated release from the marriage of DreamWorks and Paramount has animals that will appeal to the young, humor that will appeal to adolescents, tongue-in-cheek sophistication that will endear itself to adults and an appreciation of its animated predecessors that should warm the hearts of veteran moviegoers. Beyond that, it's simply funny, though not in an endlessly inventive way. No, the Over the Hedge creators employ the sort of computer-assisted animation we've come to expect and tell a story - of unlikely pals who achieve success by working together - that's as old as cave drawings. Still, how can you not love a film that casts William Shatner as a possum, thus giving Hollywood's most unregenerate ham the chance to give voice to death scene after death scene? If that isn't inspired casting, what is? Over the Hedge centers on a group of forest animals who, after a winter of hibernation, find themselves surrounded by a new housing development. Of course, they have no idea what all this stuff around them is, especially the giant green wall that runs through a former clearing. When their nominal leader, a turtle named Verne (Garry Shandling), ventures through it, he discovers all sorts of horrific things: people, cars, playful dogs, water hoses. Never, he warns everyone upon his return, stray to the other side of the green thing. But a raccoon named R.J. (Bruce Willis) disagrees. There's tons of food on the other side, he proclaims, launching into a painfully funny discourse on human over-consumption. Verne still is not sold on the idea, but when R.J. introduces the animals to the delights of the nacho-flavored corn chip, restraint goes out the window. Suburbia, here we come. Not surprisingly, R.J. has a hidden agenda: He must obtain a shopping-cart full of food quickly, or risk being eaten by a bear (voiced by Nick Nolte, whose raspy growl seems made for this). The unwitting forest animals soon are gathering all sorts of junk food, and only Verne remains suspicious - of R.J. and their new environs. Over the Hedge has enough humor to win over even the most churlish. If the possum and his overwrought death scenes don't get you, then the caffeinated squirrel (Steve Carell) certainly should. And if you can resist its charms, just wait for the encounter between a skunk named Stella (Wanda Sykes) and a cat with an outrageous French accent - a delightful homage to Pepe LePew cartoons. The film displays a welcome absurdist streak, as the camera pulls back every so often to watch events play out from a global perspective. Over the Hedge isn't overloaded with pop culture references - it has plenty, but knows when enough is enough. Nor do its creators resort to easy laughs with bathroom humor whenever the pace threatens to lag. The film stays true to its characters and keeps the laughs coming in what may be the closest thing in spirit to the old Warner Bros. Looney Tunes to hit the screen in years. And when it comes to animation designed primarily for laughs, praise doesn't come any higher than that. Return to List
The Da Vinci Code
Rated PG-13	This 149-minute film is a crackling rendition of Dan Brown's novel, siphoning off unneeded fat and leaving us with a streamlined train of a picture that never stops moving. Unlike most Hollywood blockbusters, this one assumes audience members will be smart. When cryptographer Sophie Neveu asks Harvard professor Robert Langdon if he has an eidetic memory, you're supposed know that's an ability to recall words and images exactly as he saw them. When Langdon and British historian Leigh Teabing debate the Priory of Sion, which supposedly keep a secret that would shake the foundations of the Catholic Church, new information flies at us in chunks. In fact, that's the adaptation's only major drawback: If you don't know the book, it's tough to assimilate details so quickly, and you have to make leaps of faith about Langdon's ability to solve puzzles at remarkable speed. In the novel, a message in backward writing baffles the three hunters of the Holy Grail, who discuss various linguistic possibilities until one thinks of a mirror. Here, Langdon says something like, "Backward writing, just what Leonardo Da Vinci liked," and the story chugs on. But what else could the screen writer and director do in 2 1/2 hours? The filmmakers stay true to Brown's narrative while discarding his sidelong musings, and the characters are just as paper-thin as Brown left them in the book. Parisian investigator Bezu Fache (Jean Reno) believes Langdon (Tom Hanks) has killed a curator of the Louvre, who mentioned him in a dying message. Sophie (Audrey Tautou) thinks her dying granddad summoned Langdon to solve his murder and protect a secret dating back to the time of Christ. Together, they go on the run to solve the crime. They suspect the old man was a top member of the Priory and enlist Teabing (Ian McKellen) to help. He informs them that the Priory's job is to protect the Holy Grail - not the cup shared at the Last Supper, as most believe, but the sarcophagus holding the bones of Mary Magdalene, who married Jesus and fostered a bloodline that survives today. The film makers did a shrewd thing: They made Langdon a skeptic who describes the Priory as a myth, rather than an advocate for conspiracy theory. Hanks is again an Everyman who stands in for you and me and must be convinced of this seemingly outlandish idea. They also change the book's clerical aspects, and here they can expect an outraged response. Bishop Aringarosa (Alfred Molina) is no longer an icy zealot who happens to work for the Opus Dei order; now he answers to an undefined high council within the church that authorizes his deeds. Silas (Paul Bettany), the assassin saved from a brutal life by Aringarosa, still gets sympathetic treatment. The casting is ideal, all the way down to Reno and Etienne Chicot in the roles of the main cops. (This is the rare Hollywood movie where French people speak only French to each other; about 20 percent is subtitled.) The sniping at Hanks' casting proves foolish; Langdon solves problems with his brain, not with a bullwhip or by swinging over a pit full of poisonous snakes. As befits this type of hero, "The Da Vinci Code" ends not with a bang but a question: Could Jesus have been the divine son of God and led a fully human life, fathering a child? The film makers don't force this idea on us like a conjurer passing a card; they set it out for us to consider. They want us to come in thinking and go out the same way. Return to List
Mission Impossible III
Rated R	Maybe it wasn't planned that way, but the Mission: Impossible film series has turned into a showcase for what its directors do best. The first entry had Brian De Palma's exquisitely choreographed physics-in-motion action setpieces; the second had John Woo's operatic confrontations between good and evil. Mission: Impossible III is the big-screen directorial debut of Felicity and Lost co-creator J.J. Abrams, who instantly establishes it as an Abrams movie by opening not with a bang, but with the literal whimper of Tom Cruise, tied to a chair and watching arms dealer Philip Seymour Hoffman threaten the woman Cruise loves. He's a likeable person placed in an impossible situation and forced to make hard choices. The world is in danger, but the real drama comes from watching someone whose life is falling apart. There is, however, still plenty of action and intrigue. Set, like its predecessors, around the globe, Mission: Impossible III pits Cruise's semi-retired secret agent against Hoffman and his attempts to obtain� Well, it's never clear what he's out to obtain, but it bears a biohazard sticker, so it can't be good news. As usual, thwarting the bad guy involves using gadgets, disguises, a crack team of fellow agents (including a returning Ving Rhames), and elaborate plans that require the film to swoop past exploding vehicles and through luxurious locations. Yes, it's fundamentally business as usual, but it's the best kind of business as usual, and it finds everyone working in top form. It's all so well done that it's easy to forget, or at least forgive, the fact that that the ultimate outcome of the whole formula-fulfilling exercise is never really in doubt. It must be summer at last. Return to List
V for Vendetta
Rated R	Imagine: International terrorists have killed thousands of civilians and turned an open society toward martial law; certain books, films, Web sites, religious practices and ideas are banned, as are homosexuality and immigration; secret police that torture those suspected of sedition; curfews and other restrictive protocols are imposed; and the state runs the media, which deliver patently untrue news and torrents of jingoistic venom from an angry ideologue. Welcome to England, approximately two decades from now, as depicted in "V for Vendetta," a rich and gripping new thriller based on the graphic novel created in the 1980s by Alan Moore and David Lloyd, and brought to the screen by writer-producers Andy and Larry Wachowski and director James McTeigue. It looks a lot like our world -- depressingly so, actually -- with no sci-fi gizmos or futuristic clothes or decor. But it's our world exaggerated through a lens of what-if, a nightmare so plausible and frightening that you find yourself wondering how anyone could get away with making a film about it. The answer, of course, is that we're not there, not yet, that our freedom can still trump the worst instincts of some of those who would govern us. But it could happen, in theory at least, and then what? Well, then we'd have to hope for someone like V. You don't have to be a wild-eyed conspiracy theorist to draw a line between this story and some versions of how contemporary events could play out. The government's slick and vile TV mouthpiece, for instance, could be almost any talk-radio host of today, and the Kafkaesque new ways hardly seem outre in a world where a couple can fall under government scrutiny for paying off their credit cards too quickly, as happened recently in Rhode Island. This is what's so effective about "V for Vendetta": the sense that a terrifying story is just a little way down the slippery slope from where we now unsteadily stand. A fiction, it's more alarming and convincing than any of the shrill political documentaries that have tried to stir outrage in recent years. Return to List
Syriana
Rated R	"Syriana" is an endlessly fascinating movie about oil and money, America and China, traders and spies, the Gulf States and Texas, reform and revenge, bribery and betrayal. Its interlocking stories come down to one thing: There is less oil than the world requires, and that will make some people rich and others dead. The movie seems to take sides, but take a step back and look again. It finds all of the players in the oil game corrupt and compromised, and even provides a brilliant speech in defense of corruption, by a Texas oilman. This isn't about Left and Right, but about Have and Have Not. The movie's plot is so complex we're not really supposed to follow it, we're supposed to be surrounded by it. Since none of the characters understand the whole picture, why should we? If the movie shook down into good guys and bad guys, we'd be the good guys, of course. Or if it was a critique of American policy, we might be the bad guys. But what if everybody is a bad guy, because good guys don't even suit up to play this game? "Syriana" is exciting, fascinating, absorbing, diabolical and really quite brilliant, but I'm afraid it inspires reviews that are not helpful. The more you describe it, the more you miss the point. It is not a linear progression from problem to solution. It is all problem. The audience enjoys the process, not the progress. We're like athletes who get so wrapped up in the game we forget about the score. Return to List
Good Night, and Good Luck
Rated PG	"We must not confuse dissent with disloyalty," warns broadcast newsman Edward R. Murrow, his eye piercing the television camera and, by implication, the jugular of his subject, Sen. Joseph McCarthy. Accusing the lawmaker of crossing the line between investigating alleged subversives and persecuting them, Murrow reminds 1954 America that "we cannot defend freedom abroad by deserting it at home." The resonant cautionary tale Good Night, and Good Luck takes its title from the newsman's memorable sign-off, and depicts Murrow as a broadcast knight in pinstripes, brandishing the lance of his inevitable cigarette. David Strathairn slips into the newsman's wingtips, accomplishing a career-making performance. In George Clooney's urgent and stunning movie, which palpably evokes another time that has profound parallels with our own, Strathairn does not impersonate Murrow: He inhabits him. As for McCarthy, he plays himself, Clooney using kinescopes and newsreels of the senator rather than hiring an actor. While the newsman's takedown of the junior senator from Wisconsin is the professed topic of Clooney's film (in fact, Murrow was late to the McCarthy pile-on), its real theme is television's role. Is TV a political watchdog or entertainment show dog?, asks Clooney, who directed, cowrote and costars. If the answer is both watchdog and show dog, then who's the alpha in the network kennel? The question hounded Murrow, the suave, stern-browed sheriff of CBS, who divided his time between the hard-news See It Now and the celebrity-driven Person to Person. It may be a period piece, but in the era of the Patriot Act and Entertainment Tonight, Good Night burns with relevance. The script by Clooney is TV's origin story, jazzily told in a brisk 90 minutes and shot in black-and-white with an ebony-and-pearl luster courtesy of cinematographer Robert Elswit. At CBS, where on adjacent soundstages news and variety shows are broadcast, workers toil under a cloud of cigarette smoke and paranoia. Clooney atmospherically evokes a workplace where employees sweat deadlines, loyalty oaths and layoffs, with Scotch as their palliative. The newsman initiates the crusade against the senator because he feels the terror of McCarthyism in the office, where his colleagues are routinely smeared as anti-American because they are liberals. And if McCarthy has crossed the line between investigation and intimidation, the newsman reasons, to stop him Murrow must cross the line between objective and advocacy journalism. It's not a decision popular with CBS president who worries that Murrow's crusade will jeopardize sponsorships, and jobs. Do you respect the corporate line or do you cross it? Clooney, who in his life wears the hats both of the entertainer and the "actorvist," gives us an intelligent, electric film that knows this question is as timely now as it was for Murrow. Return to List
Memoirs of a Geisha
Rated R	It may be true that they don't make movies like they used to, but every year around this time Hollywood manages to muster itself for one hugely expensive historical epic that goes all out for quality and flies in the face of what's supposed to work at the box office. This year that film is "Memoirs of a Geisha," Columbia Pictures' sweeping film version of Arthur Golden's 1997 best seller that director Rob Marshall has chosen to be the follow-up to "Chicago," which got the Oscar for Best Picture in 2002. The result is not a runaway success -- it has many strange flaws and story holes -- and anyone expecting a salacious experience from the subject matter is likely to be very disappointed in the film's sexual discretion. It's exotic but not particularly erotic. But the movie works off its trio of delicious star performances, its sumptuous production values, its sprawling sets of old Kyoto (constructed in Thousand Oaks, Calif.), its sweeping John Williams score and haunting cello solos by Yo-Yo Ma. It's the self-narrated saga of Sayuri, who, as a very young girl in the '20s, is sold by her impoverished parents to be trained as a geisha, which, the script makes clear, is not a prostitute but an entertainer and "artist of the floating world." She's resistant, and her life is hard until an act of kindness from a handsome businessman gives her a vision of life's possibility, and in no time she's a contender in the field and a rival of the area's honcho geisha: the shrewish Hatsumomo. From here on, it's a catfight -- a contest of wills and wiles between the two geishas -- with Sayuri slyly coached by astute veteran-geisha Mameha, and Hatsumomo pulling one dirty trick after another to keep the upstart in her place. Meanwhile, Sayuri is still secretly pinning for the businessman, the war clouds that have been gathering all through the '30s suddenly begin to rain on Japan and the film subtly segues into a kind of Japanese "Gone With the Wind." Beneath all its Japonaiserie, what we have here is a Cinderella story with a remarkably dead-on equivalent of Prince Charming, the fairy godmother and two wicked stepsisters. A complaint could be made that too much of the action takes place off camera, too much of the (English) dialogue is a strain to understand and the script tends to keep us clumsily disoriented as to where in Japan its story is taking place. The movie has created a furor in Japan for its insensitivity in casting its three main roles with box-office-friendly Chinese actresses, and criticized here for "reinforcing stereotypes" and "appealing to the fantasy of Western guys." But the story is so compelling and the movie is such a pleasure to the eyes and ears that these quibbles have no staying power, and whatever sins of political incorrectness director Marshall may have committed seem minor and forgivable. Return to List
Brokeback Mountain
Rated PG	The best movie romances always the sad ones. Happily-ever-after is fine if you're Julia Roberts or Hugh Grant, but in the real world, true love is much more fleeting and difficult and elusive. It's not the storybook romance that is most common, but the lingering, persistent ache of heartbreak -- a pain everyone feels at some point or another. Brokeback Mountain, Ang Lee's poignant, wise and subtle picture -- which, yes, happens to be one of the best movies of the year -- should be approached with humble expectations. Lee's approach to this delicate material is suffused with melancholy, metaphors and small, telling touches that favor subtlety over exclamation points and rough-hewn simplicity over grandiloquence. Instead of clamoring to be let in, Brokeback Mountain sneaks into your heart. Expanded from Annie Proulx's 1997 short story with great care by Larry McMurtry (Lonesome Dove) the movie has the intimacy of a character study and the sweep of an epic. It begins in 1963, when Wyoming ranch hands Ennis del Mar (Heath Ledger) and Jack Twist (Jake Gyllenhaal) meet during a summer spent herding sheep beneath the shadow of the mountain that bears the same title as the film. Neither Jack, raised by a domineering father, nor Ennis, an orphan, are talkative sorts. They are descendants of their culture, the American West and its cowboy mythology -- stoic and marked by the misery of being alone too long. But as the weeks stretch on, Jack and Ennis strike up a quiet, easy friendship, and one night, while sharing a tent, a bout of fumbling, groping intimacy erupts. The spark comes as a shock to both of them but with no one around to inhibit them, they pursue their mutual attraction until summer's end. Then they part -- Ennis back home to small-town Wyoming to marry his fianc�e (Michelle Williams), Jack to the rodeo circuit in Texas, where he, too, marries (Anne Hathaway plays his wife). They both start families and prove dutiful husbands. But the memory of their summer together refuses to fade. The rest of Brokeback Mountain tracks Jack and Ennis over the course of two decades as they periodically reunite for a few days -- always in secret -- then once again reluctantly, painfully separate. Lee, whose movies often focus on people whose personal situations render them outcasts within their own societies, shows us how Jack and Ennis' frustration blooms with the passage of time, tainting not only their two lives, but those of everyone around them. Central to the film is the revelatory performance by Ledger, who plays Ennis as a closed fist of a man, torn between what he knows and what he feels, prone to fits of violence and so guarded against the world that when he speaks, his words sound like they barely escape his throat. Gyllenhaal's Jack, who is freer and more open, embodies the youthful optimism that comes with falling in love: Part of the story's tragedy is his gradual realization that perseverance and patience may not always win out in the end. And both Williams and Hathaway leave deep impressions as the men's wives, who are by turns confused, suspicious, terrified and angry (Hathaway is particularly good in one crucial scene late in the film, shot entirely in close-up, in which her face conveys an array of conflicting emotions). Brokeback Mountain is destined to become the subject of much political discussion as it opens around the country over the next few weeks. That's all fine and good, but it should not distract from the film's biggest triumph: injecting startling new life into that sometimes hopeless genre, the four-hankie weeper, and illustrating, in a heartrending manner, the immeasurably tragic toll of a life, and a love, denied. Return to List
King Kong
Rated PG	On the surface, it seems a terrible idea: Peter Jackson's notion of investing some $207 million and all the clout he earned from The Lord of the Rings to construct a three-hour, seven-minute remake of the 1933 fantasy masterpiece, King Kong. First of all, it's almost impossible to successfully redo a genuine classic. It's virtually never been done. Critics, fans and the fates tend to loathe the presumption of it. Then there's the fact that audiences have shown a particular apathy to remakes of giant-ape movies. An earlier expensive remake of Kong was laughed off the screen in 1976 and new versions of Godzilla and Mighty Joe Young both tanked badly in the '90s. And the further sad truth is that a great deal of Kong is tied to the sensibility of its era, slightly embarrassing today, and not at all easy to translate. But, stubborn visionary that he is, Jackson has persisted with his boyhood dream of lavishly remaking his all-time favorite movie, and I'm here to report he has brought it off. Kong '05 is everything a fan could want, and then some! Not only does it recapture -- and enhance -- the subtle emotional core that has made the film so beloved for the past three-quarters of a century, it delivers the most eye-boggling, hair-raising movie thrill ride since 1993's Jurassic Park. Amazingly faithful to the original script, the film stays in the '30s and follows the beats of the story about a film company that encounters a gigantic gorilla on an island full of prehistoric creatures and brings it back alive. But it greatly fleshes out these events, adds new action scenes and significantly expands such signature sequences as Kong's battle with the T-rex, his rolling a log bridge to shake off pursuers and his iconic flight to the top of the Empire State Building. It also reinvents the three principals, so that celebrated impresario Carl Denham (Jack Black) is now a young producer on the make, ingenue Ann Darrow (Naomi Watts) is a veteran vaudeville hoofer and sailor Jack Driscoll (Adrien Brody) is an arty playwright. The initial plot expedition is a bit slow, but when the expedition gets to Skull Island in a splendid ship-in-distress sequence, the movie becomes a symphony of dazzling action sequences -- brontosaur stampedes, attacks by giant insects, battles with not one but three T-rexes, and more -- each topping the last. And the third act becomes a star-crossed, "Beauty and the Beast" parable far more operatic and tragic than anything the original filmmakers could have imagined -- exquisitely pantomimed by Watts with a poignancy and passion that rates Oscar consideration. Kong is a triumph of digital technology, but its success lies less in its adrenaline-pumping action than the appeal and believability of its 25-foot, computer-animated silverback gorilla hero. He's hands down the most complex and riveting CGI character ever created. And the movie also soars because Jackson has dared to change the concept in one elemental way: He makes the love of Kong for Ann Darrow considerably less of a one-sided affair. It's a risky venture but it works and it gives the myth an extraordinary new kick. In the end, however, the striking success of this movie may be due less to technology and plot innovations than to Jackson's determination to celebrate and re-create the magic of the experience he had as a 9-year-old seeing the original for the first time. His Kong honors its source with a catalog of internal references, smoothes its rougher edges (by, for instance, adding a heroic black character to the cast) and summons all the sorcery of the new digital cinema to communicate its essence to a new generation. Remakes simply don't get any more respectful -- or more inspired -- than this! Return to List
The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe
Rated PG	If you're a fan of C.S. Lewis' Narnia books, all you need to know is this: Disney has done right by The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. It's impossible to imagine it done much better, in fact. It's true that there are elements of biblical allegory in here; it's also true that this is a fantasy. And frankly, it's the story that matters It is not like some faith-based films like Left Behind that tend to pile on the sentimentality; Narnia does not. It even adds an opening sequence that's darker than anything in the book, in which the four children at the center of the proceedings survive a World War II bombing raid of London. Relocated to a safer house in the country, the Pevensie children are left at loose ends most of the day, and it's during a game of hide-and-seek that the youngest of them, Lucy (Georgie Henley), conceals herself inside a large wardrobe. Backing into the stacks of fur coats, she discovers that the wardrobe has no back and in fact leads into a wintry forest where a single lamppost stands. Here she encounters a man-goat hybrid, named Mr. Tumnus (an outstanding James McAvoy), who informs her that she has stepped into the land of Narnia, where winter has reigned for a century under the command of the evil White Witch (Tilda Swinton). But a prophecy has said that one day, four sons of Adam and daughters of Eve will bring an end to the tyranny. It takes a few more trips back to the real world before the other Pevensies believe Lucy, but eventually all find themselves transplanted to Narnia. But unbeknownst to Lucy and her "sensible" older siblings, Peter (William Moseley) and Susan (Anna Popplewell), their resentful brother Edmund (Skandar Keynes) has already met the White Witch--and been bribed with candy to betray his family. The only one who can save the day is Aslan, a giant magical lion with the voice of Liam Neeson (now that Charlton Heston is too unhealthy to be culturally designated the Voice of God). Aslan, it is said, is on the move, and he's bringing spring with him. Part of Aslan's inevitable victory involves giving up his innocent life as a sacrificial lamb for another, which is where the main religious metaphors come in. His death and subsequent resurrection quite clearly evoke Jesus, and the way the scene is shot by director Andrew Adamson (both Shrek movies) and cinematographer Donald McAlpine (Moulin Rouge) recalls The Passion of the Christ. Lewis warned against a live-action movie of Narnia, fearing that there was no way to give a talking lion the appropriate godly gravitas. He needn't have worried. Though the digital effects aren't always perfect, they're good enough, and the talking animals are convincing--particularly a Ray Winstone-voiced beaver and, of course, Aslan. There are four credited screenwriters, and they've done an excellent job of keeping the Lewis dialogue that matters, adapting the rest to sound more like real conversation than fairy tale and extending the action scenes to add more excitement and spectacle. What little of the book they haven't managed to replicate is at least hinted at. In short, this is a very entertaining and interesting movie that shows there may be some hope for Disney after all. Return to List
Rent: The Motion Picture
Rated PG-13	As the '80s recede into history, the glory and tragedy of the generation that came of age in that decade -- a generation stuck between the idealism of the baby boomers and the computer-driven apathy of the '90s -- seems ever more unique and profound. It is the first generation to embrace the cultural values of the postwar counterculture as its birthright -- to be truly color, gender and sexual-orientation blind -- and yet it also is a generation that defines itself by the AIDS epidemic. And perhaps no single work more clearly reflects the particular grandeur and pain of this "lost" generation -- or is more special to it -- than Jonathan Larson's rock opera, "Rent," which won the 1996 Pulitzer Prize and was otherwise the most honored musical of the '90s. All you really need to know about the movie version of this long-running Broadway institution is that, despite some flaws, most of the energy, emotion and generation-defining power that made it such a phenomenon on stage comes through on film. Vaguely corresponding to Puccini's "La Boheme," the film's freewheeling storyline is set between the holidays of 1989 and 1990, and deals with a large ensemble of young artists and bohemian wannabes who live in the Lower East Side of Manhattan. The characters, who encompass a spectrum of ethnic backgrounds and sexual preferences, include a video filmmaker, a rock singer, a drag queen, a teacher, an exotic dancer, a lawyer, a performance artist and a yuppie sellout. The title comes from a rent protest that involves all the characters through the first half of the story. But, of course, the element that gives the piece its tragic dimension is the fact that half the characters are HIV-infected, and all are living under the cruel paradox that their generation is dying for embracing the love and freedom that was the promise of the '60s. It's an ensemble piece that spreads itself thinat times. There is no standout, bravura performance (though Rosario Dawson, as the dancer, is hard to forget) and no irresistible, show-stopping number to hum on the way out. Moreover, the film adaptation offers all sorts of targets for a hostile critic: some of the casting is weak; several of the performances are flat; much of the humor seems dated, and there's nothing especially innovative in the staging and direction. But the sum of the film communicates a feel for the cultural rhythms of the period, a deep affection for the characters and a unique understanding and sympathy for their place in history that, in the tradition of great musicals, progressively sweeps you away. On stage, Larson's book and music lend a humanity, dignity and heartbreaking aura to what, on the surface, seems a pack of self-indulgent stereotypes; and the movie re-creates this feat. It's hard to imagine how a screen version of "Rent" could be any more effective. The unlikely director of the film is Chris Columbus, an extremely conventional filmmaker with a track record of big commercial success ("Home Alone" I & II, "Harry Potter" I & II), who has never before taken on a film project this risky or so obviously a labor of love. Columbus is a member of the '80s generation and he gives the play authenticity, the respect of a classic, an epic visual scope and a sensibility that's blissfully free of any generational self-pity. It seems to be the movie he was born to make, and he serves it well. Return to List
Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire
Rated PG-13	Near the very end of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Daniel Radcliffe, who has been playing the hero of J.K. Rowling's series of fantasy novels for a third of his life, sits mournfully in the great hall of Hogwarts School, his eyes filled with pain and grief and ringed with dark circles. It's a haunting, deeply felt expression that recalls the gaze of exhaustion and horror worn by Elijah Wood's Frodo in the final third of The Lord of the Rings, and Harry, like Frodo, has earned such an exhausted, stricken look. After three films Harry Potter - all of a sudden - has grown up with a bloody bang. "Goblet of Fire," is a mature, tense, frightening and altogether masterful film. It is easily the best in the quartet. Under the sure helmsmanship of veteran director Mike Newell (the series' first British director), it's the first Potter movie in which the student characters and their emotional situation is the equal of the special effects, the elaborate settings and the gallery of brilliant British actors in supporting roles. Radcliffe, alongside Rupert Grint (Ron Weasley) and Emma Watson (Hermione Granger), has grown credibly into a young man who must grapple with the mystifying urges that accompany adolescence and the profound evil that it is his bitter destiny to confront. Gone are the squeaky voice, the wooden posturing, the gee-whiz reactions. This Harry has the confusion, recklessness and mutability of a human teen. And the violence that besets him, the treachery that surrounds him, and the horror that seeks to hunt him down and destroy him all seem as palpably real as the excruciating awkwardness of finding a date for the first school dance. "Goblet" finds Harry as a fourth-year student with yet another new professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts to reckon with -- the predictably suspect Mad-Eye Moody (Brendan Gleeson, wonderful, as virtually every adult actor in this series has been). Moody's arrival coincides with the start of the prestigious Tri-wizard Tournament at Hogwarts. Students from three schools will compete for the young wizards' equivalent of the soccer World Cup, and although each school is meant to have a single entrant, Harry, technically three years too young to compete, is mysteriously named as a fourth contestant. The tournament consists of three deadly tasks: stealing a golden egg from a dragon, rescuing a mysterious lost item from the bottom of a lake, and finding the Tri-wizard Cup itself in the middle of a maze that literally eats up those wandering in it. Harry is barely up to these challenges, and while he reckons with them he must also deal with the upcoming Yule Ball, his first truly co-ed social event, and with his recurring nightmares of evil Lord Voldemort, which are not only more frequent but seem related to real-world events. It all comes to a head when -- in as terrifying a scene as you can imagine -- Voldemort manages to reincarnate himself after 13 years in a near-dead state. Played with horrific villainy by a ghastly looking Ralph Fiennes, he is every Harry Potter fan's worst nightmare: bloodthirsty and vicious and noseless and oily and intent on killing off his nemesis, our Harry. When Harry rushes out from a hiding spot to confront this abomination, the film gives us a glistening, stirring vision of physical and moral courage. Not only in its climax but throughout this is a tense and dark film, albeit specked with humor and rich in the painful embarrassment of adolescence. The trio of stalwart friends -- Harry, Hermione and Ron -- have some very plausible and hurtful fallings-out, which the script by Steve Kloves balances nicely against the more fantastical plot. Among the returning cast, Alan Rickman (Snape), Maggie Smith (McGonagall) and Jason Isaacs (the senior Malfoy) maintain their very high levels of dark camp. And along with Gleeson's ferocity as the very moody Moody, Miranda Richardson as the unctuous gossip columnist Rita Skeeter adds new layers of wit to the enterprise. For elevating the series, I give Newell, who has created such diverse and excellent films as "Donnie Brasco," and "Four Weddings and a Funeral all the credit in the world. From the start the air is heavier, the use of special effects more pointed, the close-ups of the young stars' eyes more probing and purposeful, the pacing more assured, the grim reality more plainly faced. I can't wait for the fifth film (or the seventh book!). Return to List
Disney's Chicken Little
Rated G	Making a convincing case for the possibility of life after Pixar, Disney's technically ambitious Chicken Little -- the studio's first fully computer-animated in-house feature -- is a consistently amusing, often inspired family romp. While some half-hatched plotting prevents it from approaching the sublime levels of a Toy Story or The Incredibles, the picture zips along quite agreeably with a zany energy and vividly rendered, terrifically voiced, madcap characters. Director Mark Dindal (The Emperor's New Groove) and credited screenwriters Steve Bencich & Ron J. Friedman (Brother Bear) and Ron Anderson have taken the time-honored chicken-who-cried-wolf fable and have given it a satirical War of the Worlds spin. A year has passed since that "unfortunate acorn incident," but Chicken Little (effectively voiced by Zach Braff) is still paying the price for sending the citizens of Oakey Oaks into a panic when he mistakenly proclaimed that the sky was falling. The town laughingstock, he bides his time with the equally unpopular Abby Mallard, aka Ugly Duckling (Joan Cusack); the extremely porcine, disco-loving Runt of the Litter (Steve Zahn); and the diver's helmet-wearing Fish Out of Water (gurgles provided by editor Dan Molina) while anxiously awaiting a shot at redemption. It finally arrives when he joins the local baseball team and miraculously scores the winning run. But just when Chicken Little finally wins the respect of his deeply ashamed, widowed father, Buck Cluck (a perfectly cast Garry Marshall), the sky really does begin to fall when Oakey Oaks becomes the target of what appears to be a diabolical alien invasion. Unfortunately, the storytelling's not as strong as it could be, especially once those aliens arrive, and while there's no shortage of wacky humor (there's always something clever going on in the background), what "Chicken Little" ultimately lacks is that satisfying, lump-in-the-throat, gentle emotional tug to go along with all the craziness. The good news is that the voice cast, which also includes Don Knotts as Mayor Turkey Lurkey, Amy Sedaris as the bullying Foxy Loxy, Fred Willard and Catherine O'Hara as an alien dad and mom and Harry Shearer as a play-by-play canine commentator, is uniformly robust and right on the comedic money. Composer John Debney's bouncy score is supplemented "Shrek"-style by a mix of vintage pop. All in all, Chicken Little is a good first attempt for Disney in the post-Pixar era, but they have a ways to go. Return to List
A History of Violence
Rated R	A History of Violence is a jack-in-the-box of gore and graphic sex. One minute, local nice guy Tom Stall is pouring coffee at his diner and staring longingly into the wilderness. And the next moment, he looks like an '80s era Steven Segal character who's been cast in a snuff film. The movie has no real heroes, no real lessons and no real resolution. Because of that, it leaves a lingering sense of "huh?" And it leaves you looking for a bar of soap afterward. This is one of those movies for which the trailer is a loose-lipped gossip, giving away too much, too early. Then again, when small town everyman Tom (Viggo Mortensen) easily kills a couple bad guys who attempt to rob his diner and assault his patrons, we know there's more than a couple of karate lessons at work. So there's your setup, Tom Stall, who lives in the kind of town where people still get ticketed for jay walking, becomes a local hero. His picture is plastered all over the news. Of course, his wife Edie (Maria Bello), son Jack (Ashton Holmes) and cute-as-a-button daughter are happy as can be. But a few days after the killings, a couple of surly mob suits show up at the diner, including a brooding, glass-eyed Ed Harris and a couple of nameless stiffs. They call Tom by the name of Joey, say he's from Philadelphia and harass his family. Tom denies it at first, insisting that the thugs have pinned him as the wrong guy, but after he performs another horrific act of self defense with the whole family looking on, it's evident that it's a case of Dr. Tom and Mr. Joey. The film is only 90 minutes, but aside from the completely gratuitous sex and violence, there are a few additional side plots. One involves Tom's son Jack, who's getting bullied by some high school punk who looks like Patrick Swayze from "The Outsiders" with a super mullet and a varsity jacket. Another involves Edie's bizarre violent sexual reaction to finding out her husband's true colors. Director, David Cronenberg seems to believe that everyone has a pent up violence that just needs the right enticement to come out. Then again, Tom/Joey, seems to be able to turn his anger on and off at his convenience. This is a weak movie at best and at worse, ridiculous and unbelievable. Return to List
Wallace & Gromit: The Curse of the Were-Rabbit
Rated G	Wallace and Gromit are back. Wallace & Gromit: The Curse of the Were-Rabbit hums with the promise of the plasticine pair's first feature-length adventure -- and doesn't disappoint. Like the shorts that preceded it, Were-Rabbit delivers creator Nick Park's trademark humor and heart that Tim Burton's Corpse Bride in all its eye-popping gothic glory is missing. Despite its ominously tongue-in-cheek title, Were-Rabbit by all rights shouldn't be cursed come Oscar time. Although competition from the likes of Corpse Bride, and Madagascar is expected, a nomination is deserved, perhaps even expected judging from history. Of Park's previous three "Wallace & Gromit" shorts, two won the Oscars for their year, with his debut A Grand Day Out only losing to his other entry that year, Creature Comforts. DreamWorks Animation, wisely not resting on its Shrek laurels, teamed up with premier stop-motion studio Aardman for this gleefully British tale that puts a twist on old Hollywood horror films. Daffy inventor Wallace and his long-suffering companion animal Gromit are the crack team behind Anti-Pesto, the local answer to getting rid of a rabbit infestation humanely. As usual with the well-meaning Wallace, he's snared in a pickle of his own devising when an invention gone wrong creates a giant creature that threatens to consume all the prize produce before the villagers can enter annual giant vegetable contest. Driving the heart of the film is the man and his dog. Wallace, voiced by the incomparable Peter Sallis, is ingenious, daffy, endearing in his optimism and has literally flown to the moon to soothe his cheese craving. Gromit, today's one true silent film star, is his right paw. It's their genuine partnership -- Wallace as inspiration, Gromit as caretaker -- that gives the imaginary characters emotional weight. Every kid will want a dog like Gromit and would be lucky to have an uncle, teacher or mailman like Wallace. Joining the domestic duo is the hunting-mad Victor Quartermaine (Ralph Fiennes) who has an eye on the willowy and wealthy Lady Campanula Tottington (Helena Bonham Carter), hostess of the 517th annual veg contest. In Lady T, the Aardman team has created a woman as compassionate as Victor is bloodthirsty, which makes her the perfect client and object of affection for Wallace. Quiet moments, such as Gromit's nurturing of a prize watermelon and Lady Tottington's feelings of betrayal are stealthily affecting. In the world of "Wallace & Gromit," good people are flawed but mean well, which is why we can wholeheartedly sympathize with their plight. There's no shame in falling for the film's pathos. The film also rewards observant viewers with a taste for puns or the absurd. On Wallace's bookshelf are volumes with cheese-related titles such as "Fromage to Eternity" and "East of Edam." Lady Tottington's clothes reflect her love of plants, ranging from tributes to daisies and ferns to outfits that transform her into a walking carrot or ear of corn. Were-Rabbit is also a movie lover�s treat, with obvious references to King Kong, Hitchcock and The Matrix. In addition, it plays with horror conventions such as the angry mob and the zealous clergyman who knows too much about evil forces. There's none of the Hollywood cynicism or too-clever winks meant to instill a sense of exclusive superiority, just a sincere celebration of what makes good filmmaking and a desire to entertain. Wallace & Gromit: The Curse of the Were-Rabbit isn't a guilty pleasure, it's an innocent one. So smuggle in some cheese and crackers and you'll find that the bounce hasn't gone out of Aardman's bungee. Return to List
Tim Burton's Corpse Bride
Rated PG	Corpse Bride, the ghoulish new animated fable from Tim Burton, is such a treat for the eyes, ears and funny bone that you feel cheated that it clocks in at less than an hour-and-a-quarter. Audiences of any age would gladly spend more time in this cartoonishly macabre world. It has opulent Victorian sets, comically elongated or rotund characters and many decidedly dark-humored jokes. Danny Elfman's score of highly theatrical songs gives it something of the air of operetta, much like The Nightmare Before Christmas. The film follows the fate of dreamy, clumsy Victor Van Dort (voiced by Johnny Depp), the son of a working-class family that has amassed a fortune in the fish business and which hopes to join high society. The Van Dorts have arranged for Victor to marry Victoria Everglot (Emily Watson), the daughter of aristocrats who have lost their fortune but retain their social standing. Victoria and Victor enjoy a little spark when they meet, but her snooty parents (Joanna Lumley and Albert Finney) can't stand the thought of their daughter being paired with the son of a nouveau riche family. When they finally get a glimpse of how nervous and inept Victor is -- too frightened to remember his wedding vows -- they chase him off. He runs into the woods to practice his vows and, finally succeeding, places the wedding band meant for Victoria on a branch of a dead tree. But that's no tree branch. It's the shriveled finger of the Corpse Bride (Helena Bonham Carter), a desiccated lonely-heart abandoned by a wicked suitor and doomed to pine for love until she is wed. With Victor's ring on her finger she deems herself fulfilled, and so she whisks her new groom down to her home in the land of the dead, where skeletons and maimed bodies comport themselves in a grotesque parody of life on Earth. Throughout, you're continually delighted by the quirky textures and details in which Burton revels. Stop-motion, no matter how sophisticated, has a homemade feel that no computerized animation can equal. You smile repeatedly at the wicked wit that went into building the various creepies and crawlies who populate the film, such as the maggot who lives in the Corpse Bride's head and talks like Peter Lorre. The musical numbers, especially a bit of skeletal Cabaret that explains the Corpse Bride's sad history are very fun, though not particularly hummable. As in Nightmare Before Christmas, Elfman perfectly meshes his sensibility to the film's, giving it life but, because of the whole brevity thing, coming in a song or two short of an ideal score. And that brevity thing is, perversely, the one sore point with the film. Corpse Bride is approximately the same length as Nightmare and yet somehow feels shorter and slighter. There's nothing onscreen that you don't enjoy�nothing that shouldn't be there. But there are things that aren't there, and the lack of depth and breadth haunt the film like a phantom limb. It's a treat, but it leaves you hungry for more. Return to List
Flightplan
Rated PG-13	Just the gimmick of Flightplan is enough to hook audiences: A woman gets on an airplane with her 6-year-old daughter, takes a nap, and when she wakes up, her daughter is gone. Vanished. Even worse, no one has seen her, and the flight crew starts suspecting that the little girl was never on the plane at all. They think Mom is crazy. But Flightplan goes beyond the gimmick. It's a tense, concise and elegantly shot film that creates a sense of menace from the very beginning -- and in a way that's unusual. Instead of creating an impression that danger surrounds the central characters, director Robert Schwentke evokes, in his compositions and in the details he chooses to show, an inner state. From the film's first seconds, the world of Flightplan is the world as seen through the eyes of someone suffering from free-floating fear. This is perception as funneled through a prism of nameless dread. So before anything bad happens, the movie communicates not only the knowledge that something is going to go wrong, but an almost physical anxiety. Jodie Foster plays a woman whose husband has just been killed in a freak accident, and now she and her daughter have to return with her husband's body to America. In her interaction with her daughter, there's a subtle undertone. The little girl is no longer sure her mother can protect her, and the mother isn't sure either. Neither is the audience. Schwentke evokes a nameless dread in the shot of a building facade, as the car leaves to take mother and daughter to the airport. We see a stone carving of a lion with its face partly chipped off and call to mind something the mortician told the grieving widow minutes before: Her husband's corpse had too much "head trauma" to be cosmetically corrected. The impression is conveyed: This is a place where things go wrong. These people have got to get home. It's a crucial touch to have the mother already in a fragile emotional condition before the daughter's disappearance. It lends credence to the flight crew's suspicion that the mother is simply overwrought or unbalanced, and it gives Foster license to raise the roof dramatically. Foster doesn't have to work herself up into a state. She starts in a state and builds from there. She makes a dynamic locus for audience sympathy, not someone charming or conventionally likable or engaging in her vulnerability, but someone driven, obsessive and difficult, operating out of an animal instinct of motherly protectiveness. Flightplan taps into two primal fears. The obvious one is the fear of losing a child. The second, less obvious, is the fear of flying. Though I'm sure there are other films that do this, this is the only one I can remember that accurately replicates the average experience of being on a commercial airliner. In movies, if a plane isn't in trouble, flights tend to be unrealistically smooth. But in Flightplan, air travel is shown to be as nerve jangling as it is in life. The overhead compartments rattle as the whole plane shakes on takeoff, and at the cruising altitude, there are intermittent bumps. The director never lets the viewer forget that Flightplan is taking place 6 miles above the ground, in air that's not completely trustworthy. As a fellow passenger who takes an interest in the heroine's situation, Peter Sarsgaard adds an element of sardonic humor. Sean Bean, who plays the captain, seems to have made a study of airline captains, from the military bearing to the careful, bedside manner. Most people would feel just fine with him flying the plane. The actors playing the flight attendants go around looking benign but quizzical, which seems about right. In fact, the illusion of actually being on a jumbo jet -- in this case the biggest in the world -- is so complete that few who watch Flightplan will be able to escape thinking, however much they sympathize with the distressed mother, that it would be a terrible thing to be on the same plane with her. It would even be scarier than the movie. Return to List
The Constant Gardener
Rated R	The Constant Gardener is a masterwork of suspense, romance and political intrigue. It is a taut and gripping thriller that dazzles the eyes and engages the brain in a way that few recent films have come close to approaching. Told in a non-linear style that requires close attention, the film is vastly rewarding to viewers who seek a smart and complex love story. That it offers passion, betrayal, gorgeous cinematography, social commentary, stellar performances and clever wit puts it in a special category near perfection. Based on a John Le Carr� novel, the movie has an epic feel that could make it a best-picture Oscar contender and result in nominations for several actors. In his best performance since Schindler's List, Ralph Fiennes stars as Justin, a reserved British diplomat who is drawn to the passion and intensity of a human-rights activist, Tessa, who is played with just the right amount of brio and feistiness by Rachel Weisz. The two fall in love, marry and move to Kenya, where the pregnant Tessa teams with a local doctor to help Africans who are afflicted with AIDS and tuberculosis. She also embarks on secret research that implicates a major pharmaceutical corporation in criminal activity. When she ends up dead, signs point to a possible cover-up. Fueled by grief and haunted by things left unsaid, Justin sets out on a complex journey to uncover the details of her demise. His dangerous odyssey takes him across Africa and back to Europe, where he becomes politicized in the process of working out his sadness. There are a host of possible conspirators and implied infidelities, possibly involving diplomats played by Danny Huston and Bill Nighy, who delivers a top-notch performance, and a crusty doctor played by Pete Postlethwaite. In classic thriller fashion, Justin ends up in a web of paranoia not knowing whom to trust.But there is nothing formulaic about the way the story plays out, often through a series of flashbacks, under the expert direction of Fernando Meirelles. The chemistry between Fiennes and Weisz is palpable, and their fiery love story is all the more moving as it is set against the vibrant backdrop of the African countryside. The film fuses their romance with a consciousness of the vast, tragic poverty and disease rampant in Africa, the arrogance of corrupt politicians and greedy corporations and the ineptitude of local governments. The Constant Gardener, is at once romantic and purposeful, poignant and thought-provoking, but it is not medicinal. The story hurtles, jolts and fascinates from start to finish. Return to List
March of the Penguins
Rated G	After watching the sometimes astonishing new documentary "March of the Penguins," I couldn't help but think that the emperor penguins got an unfair shake in the way things went down in Antarctica. Apparently, the ice continent was once a tropical paradise teeming with life before it went south, literally, drifting into its present position. All the other species made their way out, except for these flightless birds who eat fish and other undersea life to survive. They couldn't get away. So now, to keep the species going, they must trek 70 miles inland, walking and sliding on their bellies all the way, to find a solid patch of ice to mate and raise their chicks. But the food is still in the sea, so the fathers and mothers must alternate, after months of starving themselves in sub-zero temperatures, trekking back to the sea to eat again while the other stays behind to protect their egg and subsequently their child. Director Luc Jacquet and his team have done an incredible job gaining the trust of these penguins and recording their tortuous migration. Some of the shots -- such as a mother tenderly passing her unhatched egg to her mate to keep it warm before she goes for food, and the undersea shots of feeding taken from a small submersible -- are jaw-dropping. Just as poetic are the sweeping vistas of ice, with long lines of penguins in the distance inching forward, looking like ants. "March of the Penguins" is in a way an epic adventure film with a cast of thousands -- and narrated, as if he were the voice of God, by Morgan Freeman (and let me be the first to lobby for legislation that Freeman narrate all documentaries from now on; I'm phoning my congressman today). Most striking are the scenes of group activity. The mate-selection process, wherein thousands of penguins waddle around as if it were a singles mixer, features jealous squabbles and sweet talk. Later, when the fathers are guarding the eggs as the mothers are away feeding, they huddle in a group of about a thousand, shielding the eggs from snowstorms and winds of up to 125 mph, even taking turns being the ones on the front lines. "March of the Penguins," which is suitable for all ages despite its adult sensibility, is devoid of some facts about the emperor penguins -- for example, what is their lifespan? But that's OK. By emphasizing its visuals, it instills a deep reverence for the unforgiving power of nature and the stubborn resilience of life. Return to List
Sky High
Rated PG	"Sky High" gets off to a slow start with half-baked jokes and a cheesy visual style. Then the jokes pick up and the characters come into sharper focus. The visual style remains simplistic, but the director receives spirited performances from his young actors and knowing turns from the veterans. This Disney comedy about a special high school for teens with superpowers explores the angst and travails of high school through the comic lens of a world in which superheroes are commonly known and accepted. Will (Michael Angarano) is the son of two superheroes, Commander Stronghold (Kurt Russell) and Josie Jetstream (Kelly Preston), who must save the world on a regular basis. His first day at his Dad's alma mater, Sky High -- a campus whose antigravity device keeps it suspended above the clouds -- Will must confront his worst fear: He has no apparent powers of his own. The school is divided into a demeaning class system among heroes, kids with extraordinary power, and sidekicks -- youngsters who act as support for the heroes of the future. So for Will, his first day becomes a bad news/good news situation. The bad news is that he, along with his best friend and girl next door, Layla (Danielle Panabaker), whose beauty Will fails to notice, get lumped with the sidekicks. The good news is that the hottest girl on campus, senior class president Gwen Grayson (Mary Elizabeth Winstead), seems to have a thing for him. Which is bad news for Layla, who has a major crush on Will. Will also discovers he has an arch enemy in Warren Peace (Steven Strait) -- as in War and Peace because the guy's a bit schizophrenic -- whose dad was put in jail by Will's dad. Eventually, Will must confess to Dad and Mom about his lack of powers, a conversation he no sooner has then he discovers he does have superpowers. (Something to do with late-blooming puberty, no doubt.) When Will transfers from sidekick to hero studies, the whole class issue becomes ensnared in the romantic triangle among Will, Layla and Gwen. Of course, Gwen has ulterior motives in her relationship with Will. Adult figures on campus include Principal Powers, played by Wonder Woman herself, Lynda Carter; Bruce Campbell's Coach Boomer, his voice a sonic boom; Kevin Heffernan's bus driver, whose gung-ho spirit belies his lack of powers; and Cloris Leachman's amusing cameo as a school nurse with X-ray vision. "Sky High" wins few marks for originality. A school for superheroes sounds suspiciously like the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in the "Harry Potter" series. And a family of superheroes does remind you of "The Incredibles." But the way in which the script mixes campus melodramas -- from cafeteria fights and detention to school dances and problematic romances -- with a world of superheroism becomes more amusing with each passing minute. Angarano delivers just the right blend of earnestness, insecurity and moral indignation. Panabaker has a beguiling, intelligent presence on screen, while Winstead nicely suggests a cool femme fatale. Russell and Preston play their roles with nonchalant preening. Strait is allowed to develop the movie's most complex character, a sullen antihero with the makings of an actual hero. The effects, sets and action is clumsy at times, but then you wouldn't want the movie to be slicker; the filmmakers could have overproduced this little comedy. By keeping things modest and relying on the ingenuity of the script, the movie stays enjoyable rather than becoming silly. Return to List
Charlie and the Chocolate Factory
Rated PG	Director Tim Burton has made a career of bringing to the screen heroes who are odd with weird and wonderful gifts. In his hands, Pee-Wee Herman, Beetlejuice, Batman, Edward Scissorhands and the heros of "Sleepy Hollow" and "Big Fish" form a kinship of genius, queerness and fragility, blessed with the power to amaze the world and alter it for the good, yet cursed with the frequent inability to make the simplest human connections. It's no wonder, then, that in adapting Roald Dahl's "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory," Burton has gone inside the mind of Willy Wonka and found a story of troubled genius and alienated emotions. In so doing, the director imprints the project with a personal touch, giving him far reason to remake the much-loved, if slightly dopey, 1971 "Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory". Burton's success is partly due to a dogged return to Dahl's text, which paints in some of the background of the curious Mr. Wonka and his mysterious colleagues, the Oompa Loompas. Burton and screenwriter John August imprint themselves on the material, though, by creating a back story for Wonka, in their hands the son of a cruel dentist who locked his son's jaws in a torturous set of braces and threw his Halloween candy in the fire. So there's a darkness in this "Charlie," which we expect from Burton, but there's also plenty of the candy-colored lunacy of the director's earliest work. There's also his longtime collaborator Johnny Depp turning in another of his uncannily bizarre and wholly committed performances as a fellow who maintains a strange magnetism despite his outre appearance and outright battiness. And the third wheel in Burton's zany creative team, composer Danny Elfman, is on hand as well, writing modern new songs for the Oompa Loompas to belt out when some brat gets the boot from Wonka's factory. Combined, they produce a zippy, funny film that can stand confidently, in an appropriately updated skin, alongside the original "Wonka." Freddie Highmore, so impressive opposite Depp in "Finding Neverland," plays poor, decent Charlie Bucket, who, against all odds, gains entry to Wonka's legendary factory by finding a golden ticket in a candy bar. Accompanied by his Grandpa Joe (David Kelly of "Waking Ned Devine"), Charlie shows up at the appointed hour to meet his fellow lucky winners: gluttonous Augustus Gloop, greedy Veruca Salt, gum-chomping stress case Violet Beauregarde and bloodthirsty know-it-all Mike Teavee. In time, each of these little hellions will receive a comeuppance from the disagreeable Wonka -- pale, peevish and fastidious, given to curious turns of phrase and odd behavior. The script has excised every trace of Gene Wilder's preening, poetry-quoting Wonka, leaving room for Depp, combining bits of his previous malady-filled characters with a demented Mr. Rogers, to create an eerily youthful, slender and daft character of his own. Impatient, flighty, self-amused and easily disgusted by his guests, he's hilarious. Another key revision is in the Oompa Loompas. Burton has one actor, the diminutive but spry Deep Roy, play the entire species, male or female, whether in tribal costume, factory work gear, psychiatric tweeds or heavy metal spandex. If Elfman's songs aren't exactly Broadway bound, the spectacle of dozens of Roys performing them in giant production numbers consistently entertains. Throughout, Burton and his production team do some amazing things with their sets, props and even their squirrels, and they have refreshingly limited the computer graphics to minimal (and ingenious) use. Just as in the original film of 30-odd years ago, there's a homemade feel to "Charlie" that suits its quasi-Victorian setting and simple, homiletic message that one's family is the sweetest treat of all. About that message: Much has been made of the film returning to the original as source material, so it's surprising that Burton and August have tacked a key subplot and new ending onto Dahl's book. In their vision, the domineering Dr. Wonka (Christopher Lee) is a specter from whom the candy maker has been running his whole life but which he must confront when presented with the evidence of Charlie's love for his own family. A bit of Freud with the bon bons, then? It's not orthodox Dahl but it's pure Burton, and, as it's been such a very long time since moviegoers have been afforded that particular treat, it's entirely welcome. Return to List
War of the Worlds
Rated PG-13	War of the Worlds is, simply, the alienation-invasion movie to beat all alien-invasion movies: meticulously detailed and expertly paced and photographed, with sights so spectacular and terrible that viewers will have to consciously remind themselves to close their mouths when their jaws drop open. Did you ever go to the movies when you were 10 or 11, sit close to the screen and hardly believe the amazing things you were seeing? "War of the Worlds" brings back that feeling. This is escapist entertainment of a high order, from John Williams' neoclassical score to the near-miracles wrought in special effects. Yet the escapism is grounded in a fairly sophisticated understanding of specifically modern fears. The scenes of urban destruction -- chaos in the streets, collapse in communications -- intentionally call to mind everyone's worst terrorism nightmares. A connection to modern terrorism is made plain almost from the beginning of the new film, when Tom Cruise -- as Ray, a divorced father of two -- has his first alien encounter. He comes home covered in fine, white dust, like a bystander at ground zero. The white powder, in this case, is pulverized flesh and blood, the result of an alien death ray, which apparently annihilates living cells but leaves clothing intact. People explode into nothing as their clothes go flying. It's a startling effect and a horrible sight, but not only horrible -- horrible is easy. It's eerie, as well. It's also, in a way, insulting, in that it violates our sense of a human being's importance. This is what makes Spielberg so good: The spectacle of those bodies instantly vaporizing is horrible, eerie and insulting not just in the eyes of the audience but in the eyes of the panicked people, as they're running for their lives. Though grand in scale, "War of the Worlds" does not feature generic monster-movie-style fleeing. The bit players and extras, as well as the principals, are at all times thinking and reacting in specific and human ways. Thus, the spectacle is rendered not poignant exactly (it all happens too fast to be poignant), but always personal. Easily, "War of the Worlds" could have been a crude movie. Instead, it's graceful. How does Ray find out something is amiss in his world? He walks out his door and sees a crowd of people taking photos of something above his house. He looks up and sees the sky swirling and flashing light. The details make the movie: The wind blows in the wrong direction. There's lightning without thunder. A father and daughter cower under the kitchen table -- the father fearing that he can't protect his kids, and the daughter reading that fear and beginning to panic. Of course, the movie gets the big stuff right. The early scene, in which people on the street find the ground breaking up beneath them, sets the standard for the whole picture. A brick church slowly splits in half in what must be a blue-screen effect, but it sure doesn't look like one. It looks like being there. What you won't get from a lesser filmmaker are the little imaginative embellishments: the aftermath of devastation, with bits of clothes, from the pulverized bodies, floating to the ground. Or the passenger train, every car on fire, roaring through a small town on the way to nowhere. Tim Robbins makes a brief but vivid appearance as a bug-eyed maniac. Justin Chatwin, as Ray's rebellious teenage son, does what he needs to do but little more, as he's blown off the screen by Dakota Fanning, as Ray's 10-year-old daughter. Fanning is a little marvel, a strong child actress who's self-possessed without seeming snotty. Her face suggests a mature consciousness. From some angles, she looks about 45. Cruise does not have his best moments as an actor in "War of the Worlds." His introspective scenes, in which he tries to process the horrors he has witnessed, are not convincing. Fortunately, this is not an introspective role. It's a role that calls for a face that stands out in the crowd, a body that's capable and an energy that says, "Let's do something." Gary Oldman is a superior actor, but I couldn't care less what he would do in an alien invasion. For an alien invasion, I want Cruise. As for Spielberg, consider this film a public recanting of all that sentimental "E.T." nonsense about space aliens being cuddly. Consider it also evidence that this director keeps getting better. Return to List
Batman Begins
Rated PG-13	This new Batman has been reimagined by director Christopher Nolan ("Memento," "Insomnia") and his co-screenwriter David S. Goyer. Treating Batman like some kind of archetypal American myth, Nolan and Goyer have gone back to the beginning, filling in the gaps between the orphaning of young Bruce Wayne and the emergence of Batman as the protector of Gotham City. The result is a new vision of the hero and a thoroughly enjoyable film. If "Batman Begins" isn't as idiosyncratic or sweaty as Tim Burton's movies, it's more satisfying as a streamlined entertainment, closer in spirit and shape to Sam Raimi's "Spider-Man" movies. It's witty, gripping good fun, and it performs the invaluable work of erasing from memory the last two Batman films, a pair of hideous hack jobs by Joel Schumacher. Christian Bale dons the cape for Nolan's vision of Batman's origins. We meet our hero in a desolate Asian prison, where he is abasing himself so as to better comprehend the criminal mind he hopes to conquer. He's rescued by the mysterious Henri Ducard (Liam Neeson), who invites him to join a legendary crime-fighting organization, the League of Shadows. Among the Shadows, Wayne trains and suffers and learns to master his fear and anger. Finally he's ready to return home to serve a city that's choking on evil. Gotham, as Nolan draws it, is a modern cross of New York and Chicago infected with corruption and run by mobster Carmine Falcone, who owns the cops, the judges and the corporate powers and who has turned the town into his personal cash machine. In theory, Wayne, sole heir of one of the city's few true heroes, the late Thomas Wayne, has both the standing and the resources to fight Falcone. And his childhood sweetheart, Rachel Dawes (Katie Holmes), is about the only honest DA in town. But Wayne has determined to fight crime not overtly but through the ninja-inspired techniques of his training, and so he goes about creating the Batman persona. With the collusion of his faithful butler, Alfred (Michael Caine), and a helpful genius at Wayne Industries (Morgan Freeman), he assembles gear and wheels and secret hideout and, voila, a hero is born. Eventually, Batman finds an ally on the police force, a Sgt. Gordon (Gary Oldman), and the two combine to fight Falcone, a mysterious villain called the Scarecrow (Cillian Murphy), and another, even more mysterious and deadly presence behind them. It's a big, teeming story with time shifts and multiple plotlines and a fair bit of chatty exposition, and yet it plays like a dream, zipping along on a stream of smart dialogue, taut action sequences, impeccable photography and design, and one fine performance after another. Bale nicely wavers between Wayne's frustration, calculation, anger and glamour and Batman's physical daring and icy purpose. Caine and Freeman are terrifically funny and wise. Neeson uses his gravelly authority with judicious measure. The most impressive thing, though, is Nolan's turning of the Batman franchise into something all his own. From the tragic murders of Thomas and Martha Wayne to the advent of the Batcave and Bat-signal to a Gotham dominated by a three-tiered elevated train to the oceans of bats engulfing Wayne/Batman, it's a completely persuasive performance by the filmmaker. Bravo! Return to List
Madagascar
Rated G	It's hard to go wrong with an animated comedy about talking animals. Who can resist a bunch of rebellious penguins or literary monkeys who discuss their poo throwing habits? But in a time when kids films are so adult savvy, Madagascar, the mammalian equivalent of Shark Tale, lacks bite. The liberal measure of irreverence and wit that have infused such animated family fare as Shrek and The Incredibles is lacking in this slight and sweet tale. Even the presence of the usually acerbic Chris Rock, who provides the voice of the adventure seeking zebra Marty, and the indefatigable Ben Stiller as Alex the lion, fail to invigorate things. What Madagascar lacks in indelible characters it makes up for in visual splendour. Its tropical technicolor world makes you want to grab the sun tan lotion, a pina colada and head for the local travel agent. It's certainly easy to understand why the captives of Central Park Zoo enjoy their escape from New York. Too much of Madagascar has an air of familiarity to it. Marty bears more than passing resemblance to Shrek's Donkey, while the lemurs Julian and Maurice (Sacha Baron Cohen and Cedric The Entertainer) fulfill the obligatory role of comic duo. The pair's presence does come as welcome relief though after a drab start during which Marty celebrates his ten-year of captivity by dreaming of a world beyond the concrete confines. It's hard to imagine zoos will be thrilled by the negative light the film bathes them in, one that is bound to affect its impressionable young audience. "You ever thought there might be more to life than steak?" Marty inquires of Alex. Prompted by the penguins' failed bid to tunnel their way to Antartica, Marty escapes, only to be captured along with Alex, Melman the giraffe (David Schwimmer) and Gloria the hippo (Jada Pinkett Smith) and packed off to Kenya. En route their crates fall overboard only to be washed up on a tropical island where the city slickers have their first encounter with the wild and the strange creatures that inhabit it. Their natural instincts start to return, which in the case of Alex means all his old friends suddenly start looking more like dinner. "He's going savage," comes the cry. The New York Giants, as Julian refers to the new arrivals, find themselves facing the dilemma of choosing between freedom and all its unfamiliar perils or returning to captivity, with its routine and regular meals. Failing to match up to the best of the recent animated wonders is no disgrace. Madagascar still conjurs plenty of smiles and when the penguins finally reach their frozen homeland only to declare, "Well, this sucks," the biggest regret is that they didn't feature more prominently. Return to List
Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith
Rated PG-13	Unless you happen to live on the planet Tatooine or some other backwater of the outer galaxy, you likely know by now that the consensus of advance opinion is that George Lucas has pulled off the near impossible with his "Star Wars: Episode III -- Revenge of the Sith." After disappointing critics and hard-core fans (if not the mass audience) with the first two installments of his trilogy of "Star Wars" prequels -- "Episode I" (1999) and "II" (2002) -- Lucas has exonerated himself with lean, mean and irresistible "Episode III." True, this final "Star Wars" -- ending the series that began an unbelievable 28 years ago -- contains little or no narrative suspense: We know exactly where it's heading. And it contains no real surprises. Most fans easily will have figured out its one plot-zinger from the earlier episodes, but that doesn't seem to matter. The movie grabs us from its heart-pounding opening sequence and pulls us inexorably along its trajectory with the grip of the last gruesome act of a Greek tragedy. Its fascination is not what happens but HOW it happens. The movie hurls us three years into the Clone Wars and a critical situation in which Obi-Wan Kenobi (Ewan McGregor) and Anakin Skywalker (Hayden Christensen) are trying to rescue the kidnapped Chancellor Palpatine (Ian McDiarmid) from the clutches of Count Dooku (Christopher Lee). From here, the movie whisks us to the city world of Coruscant, where the increasing threat of the Separatist druid army inspires the war-weary Senate to hand over its power to a dictator, and a coup is in the works that will transform the Republic into the evil Galactic Empire. And the key to this event, as we've known since 1980's "Episode V," is the seduction of Anakin, a Jedi knight of immense power and prophetic destiny, by the Dark Side of the Force -- not, we now learn, from lust of power but as a misguided act of love. When Obi-Wan realizes that his young apprentice is defecting, he has to stop him and it all boils down to an epic lightsaber battle on the volcanic planet of Mustafar that will end, of course, with the creation of the most popular of all movie villains, Darth Vader. Why is all this so much more riveting and exhilarating than "Episode I" and "Episode II"? Lucas claims it's because those two earlier outings contain 80 percent of the character exposition -- necessary but exacting -- while "Episode III" is all fast-paced story. You can believe that or not (and others may cite I and II's wooden acting, dull characters and way-too-much repetitious and purposeless action), but there's no doubt that this series finale is structurally tight, dramatically taut and deliciously dark. How dark? Well, it's the only "Star Wars" with a PG-13 rating and, visually and conceptually, it's certainly the most gothic of them: Like "Macbeth," "Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde" and "The Godfather" cycle -- it's the story of a likable character sinking into pure evil. Lucas himself says he doesn't think it's suitable for preteens. But perhaps too much has been made of this. xcept for one horrific scene (hinted at but not shown) -- and perhaps one ghastly maiming sequence -- the mayhem has not been drastically upped. It's the most Shakespearean of the prequel episodes, a character drama that hinges the fate of its fantasy world on one man's difficult moral decision, and a movie designed to work much more off its performances than its action scenes. Toward this end, the cast is surprisingly solid. Christensen embodies Anakin's unique blend of strength and weakness with style and charisma, McDiarmid is just magnificently diabolical, Natalie Portman manages two very effective scenes and even Ewan McGregor finally suggests that he could grow up to be Alec Guinness. Technically, it's the usual showcase of digital arts, with loads of new creatures (and old ones, a whole army of Wookiees), some 2,200 visual effects and scenes mixing life-size sets, virtual sets, computer-animated actors and stuntmen wearing digital masks of the stars. But there's none of the grandstanding that marred I and II: those endless battle sequences designed to show off Lucas' computers. "Episode III" is full of aerial dogfights and lightsaber duels, but they serve the story, and the technology is -- as it should be -- barely noticeable. Beyond all this, the real feat of "Episode III" is that it bridges the prequels to the original trilogy in small, subtle ways -- such as using numerous musical references to the 1977 score -- and in the larger way of reconnecting us with the series' spirituality. The real power of the original "Star Wars" trilogy was its concise, uncluttered vision of a universe governed by a Force that can never be understood by logic or controlled by religious dogma but CAN be experienced by adherence to individual common-sense morality. This underpinning somehow got lost in the mindless action and charmless characters of "Episode I" and "Episode II," but the final tragedy of Anakin -- and the bridge created to his later redemption -- returns us to the ethic of "Star Wars" with awe and satisfaction. In sum, "Revenge of the Sith" is darn good, easily the best of the prequels, and perhaps even a rival to "The Empire Strikes Back" as the apogee of the three-decade-long "Star Wars" saga. As such, it's going to create a big problem for Hollywood come Oscar time. And if they give an Oscar to Peter Jackson for using a technology and sensibility, how can they NOT give a similar set of Oscars to Lucas for creating -- and seeing to an artistically happy end -- the most successful, most influential series in all of movie history? Return to List
Robots
Rated G	There are a lot of terrific creative energies at play in "Robots" and they overcome an overreliance on amusement park sensibilities in the animated adventure. The creativity includes the dazzling production design from the imaginative William Joyce and the script from Lowell Ganz and Babaloo Mandel, which provides enough sophistication, wit and, yes, a token flush of bathroom humor, to appeal to all age ranges. The director of "Ice Age" -- Chris Wedge -- is onboard, as is a star-studded lineup of voice talent that includes Oscar winners Robin Williams, Halle Berry, Jim Broadbent, Mel Brooks and Dianne Wiest, as well as stars Ewan McGregor, Stanley Tucci, Amanda Bynes, Jennifer Coolidge and Paul Giamatti. Together, they hold their own against the dizzying visual effects. Young bot Rodney Copperbottom (McGregor) is an inventor who wants to leave the limited options of Rivet Town and go to bustling Robot City, where he plans to meet his idol, the mastermind of inventors, Bigweld (Brooks), who runs Bigweld Industries and has promised never to close his door on any new idea. But Bigweld is nowhere to be found after Rodney makes the long trip into this great and dangerous unknown. Instead, he finds greedy corporate bully Ratchet (Greg Kinnear) running the show with a plan to eradicate spare parts for bots, forcing them to buy expensive upgrades instead of their usual springs, cogs and bolts. His motto is "Why be you when you can be new?" It's a dastardly plan that will wipe out the "outmodes" like Rodney and his new pals -- "Rusties" Fender (Williams), Piper (Bynes) and Crank (Drew Carey) -- and allow Ratchet and the debauched Madame Gasket (Broadbent), who runs a hellish underworld chop shop, to dominate Robot City and the world. An abundance of messages prevail: being true to yourself and never giving up in a society fixated on money. There are issues that touch on age bias and, strangely enough for a Hollywood film, there is a questioning of our culture's emphasis on youth and cosmetic "rearrangement." If it sounds like too many grown up themes thread through the story line, rest assured that the zany comedic antics of Robin Williams steal the show and keep everything from being too scary or dark for the kids. Return to List
Shakespeare's "The Merchant of Venice"
Rated R	When was the last time you lost yourself in a Shakespeare film? It's a testament to the success of William Shakespeare's The Merchant of Venice, the sharp and brooding new version directed by Michael Radford (Il Postino), that we leave the theater without concern for the production. Instead, the response is to the play and to the movie's reading of it: What does the film say about Shylock, Shakespeare's most controversial character (and only Jew)? Where does it situate the twin concepts of justice and mercy, so critical to the climactic court scene? And what does it make of a dark and brilliant script that is as much tragedy as comedy? These are rewarding questions, as the answers are complex. Radford has made a gripping, highly cinematic adaptation of a gorgeous work of theater, even using a hand-held camera at moments of instability to convey the story's dangerous flirtation with societal collapse. His actors (Al Pacino and Jeremy Irons!) have sunk so deeply into the language that it plays like modern English, only far richer. And the juicy naturalism--rippling canals, roiling populace, glittering ducats--makes for a luscious backdrop. The action begins on the Venetian canals, where the film was shot, and steers us briskly into the tangle of 16th-century Venice. At that time, Jews were forced to live in a walled "geto," forbidden from owning property and spat upon as the usurers they had to become. None of these details is in Shakespeare's text, though it is between the lines; by making the politics explicit in a prologue, Radford tips his hand before the film has begun. That's a bit of a shame, but his compassion is not. Shylock is a difficult man--mercenary, melodramatic, merciless--and it's important to taste the bitter meat on which his resentment has fed. The film's first words come from Antonio (Irons, perfect), the actual merchant of Venice, who can't understand why he's sad. In short order, we are shown: He is in love with Bassanio (Joseph Fiennes), a young "friend" who arrives to request a fortune to woo a woman, the wealthy Portia. (the men discuss the matter on a bed, which is clue enough). When the friends request a loan, Shylock (Pacino) wants collateral, and nothing but a pound of flesh will do. It's a crude request, terrible in its specificity, and what it says about Shylock is part of the play's point. He hates Antonio, who has spat upon him and called him "dog"; but must Shylock exact such vicious revenge? When Antonio's ships do not come in, Shylock demands his flesh--even as Bassanio rushes in with twice the value of the loan. Is Shylock a sorely wronged victim of anti-Semitism, acting from desperation, or is he a wicked man whose thirst for vengeance admits no mercy? He's neither. Or both. What's amazing about Shakespeare's play, and in turn about this film, is that it allows Shylock his complete humanity. He is a man both forged by circumstance and limited by personality, someone who can fret over his lost ducats more than his lost daughter (she has fled with a Christian suitor) and still command sympathy. Shylock is rigid because he is terrified; he clenches what little he is permitted to possess only because he is so afraid to lose it. And how does Pacino do? For the most part, he is a marvel--once you get over the initial shock of the gangster in a prayer shawl. Pacino uses his craggy, battered ethnicity to play up Shylock's difference, adopting a style of speech (aspirated consonants, flat vowels) meant to mimic an Eastern European yeshiva-boy lisp. That's a risky move, but it works, and so does Pacino's choice to go flat at critical moments, when Shylock wearies of the attempt to be understood. Those are infrequent; more often he's alive with furor, rehearsing his own victimization, confronting his tormentors and ultimately delivering a scathing indictment of Venetian law before the people of Venice--who don't seem to hear it. There is another plot to this play, of course, though it's not as memorable. Bassanio courts and wins Portia, far away on the bucolic island of Belmont, in what amounts to a romantic comedy. The fairy-tale aspect is overdone, but Collins is magnetic as Portia, bringing light and intelligence to one of Shakespeare's most interesting women. As is often the case in Shakespearean marriages, the man is not worthy of the woman, and it's not clear what comfort we might take in their union. Radford seems to know as much. He closes his movie not with the couple headed toward a bed, as it is written, but with two silent scenes of sorrow--Shylock's daughter alone among Christians, and Shylock himself, alone and destroyed. There, indeed, is the rub. Return to List
Sideways
Rated R	RATHER like the finest of wines, the movie, Sideways, is one that leaves a terrific taste in the mouth if it is given the proper time to breathe. It's a simple tale that takes an established format - the road movie - and turns it into a magical experience that stays with you far longer than most members of its genre. The people that inhabit it aren't particularly showy, and their exploits may seem dull when compared to some journeys of self-discovery, but the film has a staying power that really ought to mark it as one of America's finest films of the moment. Paul Giamatti and Thomas Haden Church star as Miles and Jack, two college buddies, who resolve to spend a week touring the Californian wine region and playing golf before the latter gets married. For Miles, the trip represents an opportunity to get away from his mundane existence, given that he is still struggling to come to terms with divorce and has yet to realise his writing ambitions. But for Jack, it's the chance to sow his wild oats one last time; to fulfil the desires he may never be allowed to indulge once married, and to say farewell to bachelorhood in style. As a result, he meets and courts a spiky single mother, while at the same time introducing Miles to more sensitive waitress, Maya, who shares his passion for wine, and whom Miles has quietly had his eye on for some time. The ensuing couple of hours is a richly absorbing character study for everyone involved - one that indulges in simple pleasures and generates warm laughs. Paul Giamatti is superb as the mixed-up Miles, effortlessly conveying the quiet desperation of his hopeless character, and forming a believable and sincere relationship with Maya, that also allows, actress, Virginia Madsen to shine. While Haden Church provides the film with its biggest laughs as the fool-hardy Jack - a selfish but loveable rogue, who frequently places Miles in all manner of embarrassing situations in order to please himself. Their friendship stems from past history rather than present actions and although they have grown apart, their loyalty is unwavering and quietly affecting - hence viewers can easily identify with them, while nodding along with familiarity. Yet this movie revels in its ability to appeal subtly while still delivering a knockout emotional punch. It comes as little surprise to find that Sideways has been showered with accolades and nominations given the giddy pleasure it provides. It is an intoxicating experience that only looks set to mature well with age. P.S. Don't miss the wine tasting guide on the Sideways website. Click on the poster to go there now! Return to List
The Aviator
Rated PG-13	As a boy, Howard Hughes had a dream: "When I grow up, I will fly planes, make movies, and be the richest man in the world"; and in 1925, he grabbed at the opportunity to realize it before he had even turned 21, taking control of his late father's drill-bit business. Over the next two decades he put the company's resources into the air-battle epic "Hell's Angels" and other box-office hits, as well as into pioneering designwork for military aviation and the acquisition of a commercial transatlantic airfleet. High-risk industrialist, womanizing Hollywood playboy, record-breaking aviator, independent filmmaker, survivor of several serious air accidents, media-shy celebrity and obsessive-compulsive paranoiac, Hughes was cut too large almost for life itself, let alone for a single film - yet Martin Scorsese's sprawling biopic 'The Aviator' tightly interweaves the different strands of his life into a highly compressed narrative that portrays not just the contradictions in the man himself (played by Leonardo DiCaprio), but in the American dream which he embodied. The film chronicles Hughes' most productive period of the mid-1920s to the 1940s - his flights and filmmaking, his relationships with Hollywood stars Katherine Hepburn (Cate Blanchett) and Ava Gardner (Kate Beckinsale), and his victorious struggles against movie censors and a corrupt Senator (Alan Alda) - but Hughes' madness is nonetheless a constant presence right from the opening childhood scene, imbuing the film with a gravity that viewers are all too aware will eventually bring Hughes' many meteoric successes crashing back down to earth. All in all, it was a fascinating movie. It has going for it a stellar cast, fastidious period detail, staggering production standards, a highly compressed narrative, a character's madness traced in a variety of creative ways and a spectacular reconstruction of Hughes' crash through the roofs of Beverly Hills suburbia. I also particularly enjoyed the soundtrack. My only complaints are that the film was a bit too long at 170 minutes and it has a defiantly downbeat ending. Return to List
The Phantom of the Opera
Rated PG-13	After nearly 15 years in the making, the film version of The Phantom of the Opera has finally been made! The stage production, based on Gaston Leroux�s 1911 novel, earned hundreds of awards and garnered more than $3.2 billion worldwide. Andrew Lloyd Webber�s incredible music is the force beyond this phenomenal achievement. Gerard Butler, Emmy Rossum and Patrick Wilson star in the new movie adaptation, brought majestically to life by director Joel Schumacher from a screenplay by Webber and Schumacher. Most everyone knows the story of a disfigured musician living in the catacombs of the Opera Populaire in Paris, a strange man who falls for Christine, one of the young opera singers nightly tantalizing him with her voice and beauty from the stage above. Webber and Schumacher both understood that Phantom awakens something powerful in its audience. People can relate to this man. He�s a physical manifestation of whatever human beings feel is unlovable about themselves - a heartbreaking character much like the hunchback of Notre Dame and the Beast in Beauty and the Beast. The two filmmakers realized that although millions of people have heard about The Phantom of the Opera, many did not have the resources or availability to see it on the stage. Now they�ll have the opportunity to see the movie. Some critics have already rushed in with a negative judgment about the film, but I think they fail to see the film as a completely different entity from the stage production. Theater audiences are afforded extraordinary visuals of sets and costumes and full live orchestras playing Webber�s music, but the theatrical productions lack a closeness to the characters that�s seductively present in the film version. Luckily Webber and Schumacher had the visual instinct, the artistic ability and the intelligence to see the film and live musical as different creations as well. The movie expands roles for almost all of the characters and incorporates further details of their backgrounds and insights into their motivations. When the movie first starts, it�s instantly apparent that Gerard Butler�s voice doesn�t project the commanding caliber of someone like Michael Crawford, but still, Butler's acting abilities allow the Phantom to resonate in the screen version. He�s more a real person who has experienced a tragic accident, but yet is romantic, tender and driven to rage when pushed. Butler rolls all these traits into his mystifying Phantom. Emmy Rossum, apparently a trained singer, finds the perfect balance of emotions for her character Christine. Awakened by the new thrill of a young romance with her peer, Christine finds herself naturally attracted to Raoul. Yet the hypnotic allure that the Phantom casts over her is a deeper, far more complex and undeniable draw. Believing he�s her �Angel of Music� sent by her deceased father, she can�t resist his seduction -- and Rossum�s innocent young face radiates with sincerity as Christine surrenders herself to the Phantom every time. Patrick Wilson had no problem with the tenor voice required for Raoul; he�s done many Broadway shows. Raoul emerges as a very threatening presence between Christine and the Phantom. With his gapping white shirt, skill with a sword, and obsession to love and protect Christine, Raoul cuts a fine figure as the swashbuckling romantic. Miranda Richardson is marvelous as Madame Giry, the head of the opera company, and the one who knows the most about the Phantom. Minnie Driver, who doesn�t do her own singing in the film, is hilarious as Carlotta, the opera diva whose attitude soon results in her lead role being taken over by Christine. Of course, the real star of the film is Andrew Lloyd Webber�s music. The songs are recreated very similarly to the original recording, though the orchestra is much bigger and richer than any other productions. There were rumors that a new song was added to the story. Not true. Schumacher�s early career as a set and costume designer is evident in this film. Thanks to production designer Anthony Pratt, Phantom�s sets are just as lavish as the stage productions, if not more. The $1.3 million chandelier made from 20,000 Swarovski crystals is a sight to behold. Film and theatrical costume designer Alexandra Byrne, who earned Oscar nominations for Elizabeth and Hamlet, decorates the film�s characters with sumptuous costumes. Cinematographer John Mathieson, Oscar nominated for Gladiator, earns high accolades for his artistic eye in lighting the film, a difficult task in the dark chambers of an old opera house. How he captures the transitions of the time/era changes in the film from 1876 to 1919 is splendid, especially in the scene where the camera pans the theater and cobwebs disappear, the tattered seat covers re-upholster themselves and the dust swirls away the old to the new. Mathieson captures the essence of the film and makes The Phantom of the Opera enthralling, exquisitely beautiful and heartfelt, exactly what Phantom fans want to see over and over again. Return to List
A Series of Unfortunate Events
Rated PG	I was both pleased to see that Daniel Handler (aka Lemony Snickett) was credited as a scriptwriter on this movie so that it remains true to his hilariously sardonic, deadpan vision while not being dragged down by a weight of exposition. A Series Of Unfortunate Events is based on the first three of the best-selling books and tells the story of the three Baudelaire orphans who, despite being unusually clever and charming, lead lives filled with misery and woe. Violet (a 14 year old inventor), Klaus (a bookworm) and Sunny (a biter) live happily with their wealthy parents until one day their home is burnt down in a mysterious fire and they are sent to live with their �beloved� Count Olaf (embodied by Jim Carrey), a cousin they have never heard of. Count Olaf lives in a decaying mansion full of rats and cockroaches and it soon becomes clear that he is only interested in the Baudelaire fortune. After several attempts on the children�s lives, Count Olaf loses custody of them, and they are sent to live first with their reptile-loving Uncle Monty (Connolly) and then with mad Aunt Josephine (Streep) before being returned to Olaf�s clutches. Can the children foil Olaf�s evil plans and discover what really happened to their parents? A Series Of Unfortunate Events suffers slightly from being adapted from three books but its still a very enjoyable and funny film. It's book-ended with Lemony Snicket (Jude Law) himself starting to recount the story in just the same way as he does in The Bad Beginning, and his voiceover is used very cleverly to increase suspense and shocks, which stops it feeling too literary and dull. Its clearly a nod to fans of the books, as Lemony Snicket reminds us that we can always leave the cinema and go and watch a film about a happy elf instead, or sets us up for a happy ending only to let us down with �I wish I could tell you that was what happened�. I also liked the fact that, with all the humor, there is a real sense of jeopardy and tension. The film looks amazing � production design on this must have been so much fun. Everything is a weird mixture of Victoriana and modern technology - particularly fabulous is Aunt Josephine�s cliff top house. The performances are uniformly good. Jim Carrey has the show-off part, but Meryl Streep shows an unexpected gift for comedy as the paranoid Aunt Josephine, who won�t switch on the radiator in case it explodes, advises the children not to touch the doorknobs in case they shatter and blind them, and is terrified of realtors. The children are also very good, especially Kara and Shelby Hoffman as Sunny, and the film makes some subtle points about reading, and the way society dismisses children, without laying it on too thick. All in all, superior family entertainment, despite the slight pacing problems, which should find itself very popular in a world bereft of The Lord of the Rings Christmas outing. And do have a look at Count Olaf's - Actor, Humanitarian, Heartthrob and Ultimate Dad - website, countolaf.com. Return to List
Finding Neverland
Rated PG	Few actors are able to inhabit a character. From Edward Scissorhands to Captain Jack Sparrow, Johnny Depp becomes the part and has become known as one of the most versatile actors working today. Once again he embodies the role and becomes J.M. Barrie, the man who created Peter Pan. Finding Neverland is a very rewarding film from director Marc Forster. There won�t be a dry eye in the house when the film ends and it will probably garner some early Oscar buzz for it�s stars. J.M. Barrie (Johnny Depp) is known for his plays and when his latest is a bomb, he turns to his imagination for help. Preferring the company of his dog over his lovely wife, Mary (Radha Mitchell), Barrie spends most afternoons in the park with Porthos. One day in the park he wonders into the middle of a children�s game played by four boys and their widowed mother, Sylvia (Kate Winslet). Barrie quickly befriends the family and spends more and more time with the children. Getting involved in the children�s games and Barrie begins work on his latest project, Peter Pan. Because of the increased time away from his own family, people begin talking that maybe there is more to Barrie�s relationship with the young widow and her boys than meets the eye, but Barrie is as innocent as his creation that refuses to grow up. Once again Johnny Depp is superb. He carries the Scottish accent all the way though without every dropping it. He plays Barrie with a certain grace and innocence without coming off as creepy or pathetic. Kate Winslet returns to more mainstream fair with this film. Again she proves that she is one the best actresses working today. The real star of the movie is Freddie Highmore as Peter. He is perfect as a small boy who has aged too fast after his father death. He is sullen and withdrawn until Barrie is able to draw the character out more. The interaction between Depp and Highmore is worth the price alone. Director Marc Forster has done a great job with this film. Forster has a love for the subject and never lets it get overly sappy which it easily could. He blends Barrie�s imagination world seamlessly into the rest of the events of the film with out ever being jarring. With excellent performances from the cast, beautiful cinematography and moving score, Finding Neverland is a great film the will audiences grabbing their hankies as they leave the theatre. Return to List
The SpongeBob Squarepants Movie
Rated PG	Ok...admittedly, going to this movie and enjoying it as much as I did was a surprise even to me. Let's just say, for me, Spongebob Squarepants is a guilty pleasure. I think he is hilarious...and then you add his sidekick, Patrick the starfish and it is downright hysterical. In this film we find the sponge who lives in a pineapple under the sea is trying to find himself and fight the forces of evil. There's trouble brewing in Bikini Bottom! Mr. Krabs has been framed for stealing King Neptune's crown, and the evil Plankton has his hands on the Krabby Patty recipe and is trying to take over the world! While SpongeBob Squarepants (voiced by Tom Kenny) is still upset he didn't get a promotion at work, he springs into action, grabs his square pants and teams up with Patrick (Bill Fagerbakke) in a dangerous journey to save Bikini Bottom. This film is filled with much of the same goofy and crazy laughs you see on the TV show. The animation is great and the bizarre characters SpongeBob and Patrick meet on their journey to find King Neptune's crown provide some of the film's funniest moments. You'll love the scenes where SpongeBob and Patrick get drunk on ice cream and nearly get beat up at a biker bar after blowing bubbles with the soap dispenser in the bathroom. While these silly stopovers provide some great laughs, they also give SpongeBob and Patrick a chance to prove they are men to King Neptune's mermaid daughter, Mindy (Scarlett Johansson.) If you're a fan of the SpongeBob SquarePants TV show, then you won't be disappointed with the movie. This flick has more of a message and isn't quite as goofy as the TV show episodes and it's definitely worth watching. You'll also like the soundtrack for the movie which features the SpongeBob SquarePants theme song sung by an opera chorus and the Goofy Goober Song, sung by SpongeBob and Patrick. If you are looking for an absolutely silly fun time, this movie is for you. I laughed more than I have at any movie in a long, long time. Return to List
The Polar Express
Rated G	This movie is a dazzling piece of holiday eye candy. It is about a young boy that loses all belief in the holiday spirit and Santa Claus. A mysterious train pulls up to his house on Christmas Eve to take him away to the North Pole to witness Santa�s launch. At first reluctant to embrace the magic of the moment, the train�s perilous journey, budding friendships with his fellow passengers, and sage advice from the Conductor shake the young boy into the hope that the Christmas spirit could possibly be true; all the while leading him into fantastical misadventures during the journey. Chris Van Allsburg's classic book is expertly adapted for the big screen by Robert Zemeckis (�Forrest Gump,� �Back to the Future�). It is nearly perfect in it's portrayal of childhood fantasies of Santa Clause. Though computer animated, �Polar Express� uses a special technology that required the players to fully act out the film, and later their performances were animated over. It�s a unique process with a distinct human quality that even Pixar hasn�t been able to secure from CG artistry. The performances of the actors emotes very well. The technology isn�t perfect, as evidenced in the limited movements of the eyes and mouth, but the look of the film is often stunning and unique, vigilantly matching the colors and scope of Van Allsburg�s book with Zemeckis�s own desires for yuletide adventure. Facing an adaptation challenge unlike any other, Zemeckis did go a little overboard a few times, but all is forgiven through the heartfelt emotion of the story. It is chock full of snappily paced action sequences (the train crossing a frozen lake is a wonder!) and holdiay cheer. Zemeckis is also obsessed with roller coasters. It seems every new scene has some form of runaway train careening down a mountainous slope, or the children caught in some winding Santa workshop slide. The score by Allen Silvestri also helps us to imagine far away places and long lost sentiments. Zemeckis plays it smart and calls on Tom Hanks (in their third collaboration) to play just about everybody in the film. As the adult voice of the lead character, his father, the conductor, a homeless spirit who rides on top of the train, and Santa, Hanks puts in a great effort for the film, filling each performance with that special, lovable Hanksian spirit. The rest of the roles (including Nona Gaye and Hanks�s former �Bosom Buddies� co-star, Peter Scolari) fall into line just as easily, even employing former geek icon, Eddie Deezen (�Grease�), to voice an obnoxiously know-it-all Express passenger. Even with some of the dizying extraneous ornaments, �Polar Express� delivers the holiday goods that children and adults will be salivating over. I saw this film in 3D at the IMAX theater. I would highly reccommend seeing it that way if it is possible. It was spectacular. Ushering in an interesting form of CG animation, Robert Zemeckis furthers his reputation as a groundbreaking filmmaker, guiding �Polar Express� to charming holiday merriment and many other unexpected delights. Return to List
The Incredibles
Rated PG	There is something exhilarating about the limitless possibilities of what animation can create that other filmmaking forms cannot, and The Incredibles takes the medium to new, incredible heights. This latest film by Pixar features everything that audiences love about action-adventure films: it's just that this time it's in the animation format. In terms of superior writing, visual spectacle and sharply defined characters, this film succeeds and surpasses expectations. This could be the most fun you will have at the movies this year. The Incredibles is really an affectionate throwback to everything we love about superhero and action-adventure films: The treacherous fortresses, the daring rescues, the false alarms of doom and the ultimate triumph of good over evil. Each superhero has their own special abilities, and through some imaginative concepts and compelling confrontations, each superhero actually uses their abilities for some fantastic use. There are five members of the Parr nuclear family: dad, mom, two adolescent kids and a toddler. Bob the patriarch is Mr. Incredible (voiced by Craig T. Nelson), super-strong and nearly impenetrable. Helen the mom is Elastigirl (Holly Hunter), who has an aptitude of super-stretch ability. Dash has super-speed while Violet has an invisibility cloak and force-field capabilities. Jack Jack, the toddler, has a secret power not revealed until the end. The twist in the story is that Mr. Incredible and Elastigirl were once among the world's most beloved superheroes, but circumstances put them into hiding for more than 15 years. Bob becomes an insurance salesman while Helen becomes a domesticated housewife. The family is housed by a government protection program, and they are cautioned not to reveal their super identities to the public or they will face reprimands and penalties. Bob comes out of hiding for a new assignment when he is approached by the mysterious Mirage (Elizabeth Pena). She is working in affiliation with Syndrome (Jason Lee), the nemesis of the story, a character from the long-ago past who has spent 15 years building a grudge against Mr. Incredible. Part of the film's sly sophistication is that it plays up the adult drama at home. Bob and Helen have economic problems, they are caught up in slight but present marital lies with each other and the kids themselves are fraught with problems at school. Yet the underlying sarcasm of the film keeps everything light and moving along. The surprising supporting characters are also a delight. Edna Mode is a superhero fashion consultant (voiced by the director) who gets some of the biggest laughs of the film. This is top-notch action excitement whichever way you put it, and this year's Spider-Man 2 is the only live-action film in recent times that has similarly managed to put thrills, laughs and cutting-edge spectacle into its full-throttle synergy. It's definitely worth declaring that The Incredibles is the best animation film of the year, and that's no easy feat. A few months ago, it looked as if animation couldn't get any better than Shrek 2, but The Incredibles rises above the realm of all 3-D animation achievements previous to it and shames any live action film out there made from weak and exhausted parts. The film is written with snap and bite and made with some of the same zeal that has gone into the best of the James Bond pictures. It's deliriously funny and exciting. The Incredibles has set a new bar of animation excellence. Return to List
Ray
Rated R	This is a truly incredible film. Jaime Foxx doesn�t simply play Ray Charles. He literally becomes him, the way he looks, the way he sings, the way he moves, the way he talks. The movie focuses on the years 1948-1979, but provides flashbacks to important events Charles�s life. He was born Ray Charles Robinson (a promoter changed his name so as not to be confused with boxer �Sugar� Ray Robinson) in Georgia in 1930, and had a tragic childhood to say the least. He watched his brother drown in a washtub when both were very young and he goes blind at the age of six from glaucoma. His mother Aretha (Sharon Warren) teaches him that he is going to have to look out for himself, because no one should pity him because he�s blind. The movie is paced really well telling childhood flashbacks interspersed throughout the story of his adult life. One major aspect of Charles' life that I was unaware of was his addiction to heroin. It�s heartbreaking to hear Ray initially justify his use, when the dealer tells him it will make him �null and void.� �Null and void, just like my life,� Ray says. �I�ll be right at home.� It is even harder to continue seeing Ray justify his drug use to his wife Della Bea (a great performance by Kerry Washington). Fortunately, he was able to quit cold turkey in 1965, and his scenes of rehab are brilliantly shot and conceived, and torturous to watch. All of the key events of Charles' are present: his introduction to Quincy Jones; his contracts with Atlantic Records and ABC Paramount; his long affair with backup singer Margie Hendricks (a brilliant piece of work by Regina King); his battle against segregated concerts in Georgia; and everything else in between. The film moves along swiftly; this is one of the fastest two and a half hour films I have ever seen. The strongest element in the film is naturally the music for which Ray Charles was so famous for. Foxx does a little of the singing and playing himself, but a lot of it is actual recordings from the man himself. His style was controversial, as he mixed gospel with R&B, country with R&B, and pop with gospel, and sometimes amalgamations of all of the above. Many cried out against his use of R&B and pop mixed with gospel, saying it was the �devil�s music,� and that Charles was �profiting off God.� Of course, most disagreed with this assertion, as Charles was consistently popular throughout his career. He was not just a mere rock or pop musician � he was a deep, soulful, amazing human being, and this film is a wonderful tribute to a certified Genius. Return to List
Shark Tale
Rated PG	I have to admit that I was skeptical going into this film. The previews were less impressive. It was clear to me that this was going to be no "Finding Nemo" (and incidentally, it isn't). So, I went for one reason: to support Dreamworks animation as it continues to give Disney a run for its money and keep animation competitive. Despite all my trepidation, I found this film to be entertaining and fun. Shark Tale tells the story of a fish and a shark. Oscar (Will Smith), a loser fish who dreams of making it big and Lenny (Jack Black), a shark who is nothing near what his father expects him to be. His father is Don Lino (Robert De Niro), the godfather of sharks, and he wants his sons to take over the "family business". The trouble is that Lenny is a sensitive vegitarian. Lenny's brother Frankie takes Lenny out to try and teach him to eat fish. They come across Oscar and decide to make a meal out of him. Oscar flees, and Frankie goes after him and gets killed by a falling anchor. Oscar takes credit for killing him, making up a bunch of lies about it and gets the fame and fortune he desires. This of course leads to no end of trouble. The movie is very funny and full of surprises. It is no "Nemo", but worth seeing. Return to List
Team America: World Police
Rated R	Trey Parker and Matt Stone are two extremist comedians who aren't afraid to go as far away from the norm as possible. This could be a good thing or bad, and as usual these guys walk a fine line between the two Team America is a group of freedom fighters sent to police the world. When one of them dies in the line of duty, their boss, Spottswoode, employs the help of a young Broadway actor named Gary to go under cover as a middle eastern terrorist. What they don't know is that South Korean dictator Kim Jung Ill is selling weapons of mass destruction all around the world and that he plans on setting them off all at the same time, creating what the he calls 9/11 times a thousand. Team America is not a Bush bashing film. In fact, a puppet of Bush isn't even in this movie. It's a satire of the guns-blazing American spirit, but it is also against Hollywood actors who feel the need to be more important than they actually are. It's an outrageously funny film that uses plenty of movie stereotypes like cheesy romance, over the top action sequences and elaborate musical numbers. Team America is funny, but it is very crude and gross at times. I recommend it as long as you understand that it is very graphic. Of course what else would you expect from the makers of South Park? Return to List
Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow
Rated PG	This was a spectacularly fun movie experience. It is set in 1939, and begins with the disappearance of some of the world's most brilliant scientists. For newspaper journalist Polly Perkins (Gwyneth Paltrow,) getting to the bottom of the mystery is only the beginning. After receiving a mysterious message, she meets with the last remaining scientist who thinks he will be kidnapped next. Suddenly, New York City finds itself under attack from giant metal robots. The famous pilot Sky Captain (Jude Law) is called in to help fight them off. He and Polly will end up teaming together to solve the mystery, which gets more complicated and complex at every turn. To help them out are science whiz Dex Dearborn (Giovanni Ribisi) and Captain Franky Cook (Angelina Jolie.) This film is wildly interesting and stimulating at the same time. It was filmed entirely in front of blue screens and shows the amazing capabilities of computer-generated imagaery. The cast also clealy enjoyed making the movie too. Though I am sure that their time commitment was a very small part of the 6 year process of making this movie. Return to List

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