BLUE VALENTINE Review (4 out of 5 stars)

A tragic before-and-after tale of a relationship gone wrong by an acting powerhouse duo. 

BLUE VALENTINE is a sad, dark tale tracing the crumbling relationship between Dean and Cindy, played by Ryan Gosling and Michelle Williams. The movie shifts back and forth in time, from their giddy Brooklyn-based courtship to five or six years later in rural Pennsylvania as parents to a six year old. Both actors are Academy Award-nominated, and both should be nominated again for their work here. Williams is my bet for a Best Actress Oscar win for her lovelorn, swept-off-her-feet young bride turned wounded and angry, ultimately hopeless working mom. Gosling’s tough-talking Dean morphs from handsome, charming and mysterious to a lost and all too vulnerable soul, eyes hidden, unkempt and balding. In both cases, all smiles transition to fleeting or no smiles at all.
 
In the chronologically latter half of their story, which is where BLUE VALENTINE both begins and ends, Dean insists on a romantic night out at a dumpy motel, and Cindy is left with no choice but to give in. He reserves the establishment’s comically ugly “Future Room,” bathed in unflattering neon blue light and decorated with fake gizmos, mirrors, a wall-sized moon photo and spinning bed. The childlike Dean finds it all delightful; the more sophisticated Cindy reacts as most of us would – with dismay - but tolerates it nonetheless. They both commence drinking with dedication. But despite some genuinely romantic moments on this fateful night, their contempt for each other comes to the surface after a series of strange, drunken moments of canoodling on the motel floor, and Cindy later leaves him passed out in the bathroom.
 
Cindy and Dean are good people but find themselves in different places in their lives – something both seem to recognize but only he is unwilling and unable to acknowledge. While their contrasting outlooks and socioeconomic backgrounds weren’t an issue early on, those factors clearly pose real-life obstacles in their later lives, as both her devotion to nursing and his apathy toward minimum wage jobs du jour grow. His laissez-faire bachelorhood in New York worked out fine, but that aimlessness and refusal to grow up carry consequences later as a husband and father. When the younger Dean meets his girlfriend’s parents for the first time, you sense that Cindy’s father recognizes this contrast in ambition. And while Dean’s relationship with their little girl, who they both love fiercely, is endearing, he relates to her as more of a playmate than a dad; Cindy has to do all the actual raising, it seems.
 
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THE TEMPEST Review (4 out of 5 stars)

A sumptuously shot Shakespeare classic led by an ensemble of acting luminaries.

Julie Taymor’s cinematic adaptation of this supernatural tale employs gorgeous cinematography and a cream-of-the-crop cast, not to mention it’s an excellent an and vastly entertaining literary brush-up. And really, what more could you ask for? It’s also one of only two of the Great Bard’s works steeped in sorcery, so there’s the constant feeling just about anything can happen onscreen.

Taymor adds a fascinating twist to the plot, turning the sorcerer Prospero into a sorceress, Prospera, played by none other than Helen Mirren. When her enemies shipwreck on the island she and her daughter Miranda call home, Prospera wreaks magical havoc on the beleaguered men as revenge for her banishment from a royal perch in Italy. And thus follow elements of tragedy, comedy and romance in almost equal measure.

As seen in her ACROSS THE UNIVERSE (2007), FRIDA (2002) and adaptation of another Shakespeare play, TITUS (1999) – not to mention her smash theatrical adaption of THE LION KING on Broadway – Taymor views the screen (or stage) as her canvas and applies colors liberally as one would to a painting. THE TEMPEST is gorgeous and sumptuous, a feast for the eyes. Not only artistically, but through the startlingly dramatic natural scenery of black lava rock, towering cliffs, exploding surf, barren landscapes and open skies I never realized Hawaii could provide. The film also employs just the right amount of CGI to further its storyline instead of shrouding it. Such can be seen in the spirit Ariel’s dances across the stratosphere or Prospera’s magical deliberations in her lair: celestial shapes and light patterns whirling, potions bubbling, flasks combusting. Ariel’s dramatic transformation into a jet-black harpy to terrify and stupefy the lost royals is for me one of the visual high points. Along these lines, Taymor always prioritizes her costumes, and so for THE TEMPEST enlisted the considerable talents of Oscar darling designer Sandy Powell. The sorceress’s shimmering feathered cape, rainbow array of her wardrobe and strictly corseted black dress as she confronts her equally black-clad royal prey add so much to this banquet of imagery.

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CASINO JACK Review (2 out of 5 stars)

A so-so dramedy on super-lobbyist Jack Abramoff.

On Tuesday The Washington Post ran a short update on Jack Abramoff, who’s out of federal prison and on probation for the next three years. The article reported that he was leaving his workplace of the past six months, Tov Pizza in Baltimore. I remember my shock months ago upon first learning he’d taken a minimum wage job, but based on the man’s now toxic reputation and his unsavoriness as represented in the late George Hickenlooper’s CASINO JACK, I realize I shouldn’t be surprised.

CASINO JACK stars Kevin Spacey as the man at the heart of 21^stcentury America’s most resonant political scandal. He’s everyone’s favorite K Street boogeyman, “super lobbyist” Jack Abramoff. Jack cons his way into amassing an empire composed of restaurants, casinos, and his own private Hebrew “academy” (complete with ice hockey rink and Zamboni machine) - and that’s just for starters. To score this loot, he and business partner Michael Scanlon (Barry Pepper) engage in endless, illicit quid pro quo deals with Indian tribe-run casinos and other special interests. They then curry favor with crooked politicians willing to pass legislation for those parties’ incoming cash. Former House majority leader and self-described “Hammer” Tom DeLay (recently found guilty for conspiracy and money laundering and awaiting sentencing) and Ohio congressman Bob Ney (who served seventeen months in prison) are among those influential figures implicated in the corruption. Abramoff and Scanlon’s ripples of high-end bribes become more and more reckless until a sleazy former mattress salesman they have connections with (Jon Lovitz) enlists his mob ties to commit murder, and the dominoes begin to fall for everyone. And the once high-powered Jack Abramoff quickly descends into worldwide infamy.

The movie succeeds at stringing together these disparate elements - including Abramoff’s increasingly wacky sequence of crimes - into a comprehensive narrative. However, the film fails to introduce much new material to this ripped-from-the-headlines story. Its failure to do so brings to mind such similarly missed cinematic opportunities as this year’s FAIR GAME (on the Valerie Plame scandal) and WALL STREET: MONEY NEVER SLEEPS (which partly touched upon Big Business’s complicity in the recent economic meltdown).

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THE FIGHTER Review (4 out of 5 stars)

Inspiring, funny and boasting outstanding performances.
 
THE FIGHTER is, surprisingly to me, a great movie – I normally don’t expect much of Mark Wahlberg since his atrocious performance in 2008’s THE HAPPENING, but he’s adequate enough here so as not to distract. The real stars of the show are its supporting cast: Christian Bale is incredible as Dicky, Melissa Leo astounds (as always) as tough matriarch Alice Ward, and Amy Adams is very good as the no-nonsense girlfriend who inspires Micky to finally break his losing patterns. THE FIGHTER also greatly inspires - it aims to be the next ROCKY and actually comes close. The film shows enough heart and inventiveness that it’s now one of my favorite films of the Oscar season. 

Dicky is blue-collar Lowell, Massachusetts’ former boxing champ, having long ago fought Sugar Ray Leonard in the ring. But his boxing days are now over, replaced by drug addiction and a life of petty crime. He trains his younger half-brother Micky (Wahlberg), the town and family's new hope despite a losing streak and his advancing age for a fighter. Their hardscrabble mother Alice (Leo) manages Micky’s flailing fighting career until new girlfriend Charlene (Adams), convinces Micky to drop his family’s professional involvement in his career and go on his own. After doing so, Micky’s record takes a dramatic upturn, and he must ultimately decide whether to allow his newly rebounded brother and the rest of his dysfunctional family into training for the fight of his life, the World Championships. 

This is an impressive cast, down to the smallest of characters, all so gritty, flawed, and complex: the red-faced Jack McGee as Micky’s father, Mickey O’Keefe (playing himself) as the town’s police sargent and Micky’s part-time trainer, and Micky’s hilariously obtuse sisters, among them “Tar,” “Beaver,” “Pork,” “Red Dog” and yes, many more. Their crazy hairstyles alone should get an award. Your heart latches on all of these individuals because you somehow know and recognize them – it’s real life translated perfectly to the screen. David O. Russell should be proud. Heck, he should be proud for simply creating a boxer movie that stands out in such a long line of them. And for making someone who utterly detests boxing and boxing movies sit up straight and pay beady-eyed attention. (Tisk-tisk for using a poster so similar to THE WRESTLER’s. Interestingly enough thought, that film’s director, Darren Aronofsky, served as an executive producer on this film.)

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TRON: LEGACY Review (2 out of 5 stars)

Exciting visuals but a severely lacking screenplay and characters.
 
In TRON: LEGACY Garrett Hedlund plays 27-year-old Sam Flynn, son of Kevin Flynn (Jeff Bridges), the protagonist of LEGACY’S 1982 predecessor TRON. Following up on a strange message from his father’s old office, Sam suddenly finds himself thrust into the cyber universe his dad’s been trapped in for the past 25 years. Together with the help of Quorra (Olivia Wilde), father and son fight to prevent the elder Flynn’s digital alter ego Clu (also Bridges) from crossing into the real world while simultaneously trying to find their own way home.
 
The only reason to see this movie is for its special effects, which are indeed incredible. I felt pure, unadulterated joy seeing characters throw themselves into the air, form motorcycles or glider-like planes around their bodies and fight to the death in races on a neon grid. The disc-hurling matches are also thrilling, figures shattering into a thousand shards of glass upon being pegged. Many of these scenes arise in the first third of the film, while the glider-slash-plane chase is near the end. The hulking “Recognizers” of the original are back and, like everything else, are cooler looking and more menacing than ever. The movie is so visually stunning that after doffing our 3D glasses and exiting the theatre, the real world felt visually boring. (Daft Punk’s slick orchestral and electronic score aid and abet the graphics perfectly.)

The one CGI letdown is Bridges’ digitally altered face, used on his maddened alter ego Clu and also the younger Kevin Flynn, in flashbacks. The unintentionally creepy end result unfortunately looks nothing like the real-life Jeff Bridges of yesteryear. Nor does it look real-life, period. In case you didn’t see this controversial pseudo mug in the trailer, just picture the robotic-looking visages of FINAL FANTASY or THE POLAR EXPRESS. Perhaps first-time feature director Joseph Kosinski could have gone for an purposely digitized-looking Clu not intended to look human, which may have proven both genuinely frightening and more suitable for the role of Bad Guy.
 
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THE KING'S SPEECH Review (5 out of 5 stars)

A tender, delightful and little known historical tale to add to your holiday must-see list.
 
I’ll admit, I dreaded screening THE KING’S SPEECH – a British period drama about a stuttering royal figure? How could this not be boring? Yet not only is this movie entertaining, it’s delightfully so: funny, touching, inspiring, educational and, in my opinion, fully deserving of a Best Picture nod. 

Director Tom Hooper introduces us to Albert (Colin Firth) - or “Bertie” to those close to him - England’s handsome and dignified Duke of York in the 1920’s. Bertie’s father, stern King George V (Michael Gambon), shrieks at him to overcome a stifling speech impediment. Why all the fuss? While Bertie’s notoriously philandering older brother David (Guy Pearce) is next in line to the throne, the king is convinced David will plunge the royal family into ruin thanks to his consistently scandalous behavior. He feels that Bertie should therefore be prepared for the worst and be forced to take the crown for himself one day – and a stutter won’t work in that equation. Sure enough, the king dies, David becomes Edward VIII - and the new king immediately embroils himself in scandal upon announcing his intention to wed an American divorcee.

Through the course of this unfolding royal soap opera the crux of the film plays out: after a succession of disastrous speech therapy consultations with quacks of all stripes, Bertie’s devoted wife Elizabeth (Helena Bonham Carter) engages the services of an eccentric Mr. Lionel Logue (Geoffrey Rush). Logue’s daily regimen of unorthodox treatments to Elizabeth’s quite reserved hubby results in an initially volatile reaction from the new patient, though he mellows out on the sessions with time. The sessions take on new urgency however as Edward VIII abruptly abdicates, Bertie is crowned King George VI and all of England looks to him for strong-voiced leadership through the commencement of war with Hitler.
 
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LOVE AND OTHER DRUGS Review (1-1/2 out of 5 stars)

A formulaic romantic dramedy that at least offers a quality segment on Parkinson’s.
 
Despite very effective scenes devoted to Parkinson’s and, separately, a fair amount of nudity, LOVE AND OTHER DRUGS is little more than a typical, formulaic romantic comedy. It centers partly around Viagra’s debut and so is set in the 90’s, but otherwise comes across as little different from the world we live in today a decade-plus later. But its placement in that era also allows a cavalcade of 90’s one-hit wonders, thus fulfilling the mainstream rom com requirement of a buyable soundtrack. (Though the uninspired song choices and their constant reminder that it’s the 90’s annoys to no end.) The movie is based on Jamie Reidy's memoir "Hard Sell: The Evolution of a Viagra Salesman.” 

In a nutshell, Jamie Randall (Jake Gyllenhaal) is a stud muffin specializing in getting laid. He uses this talent to his advantage first as an irritating electronics salesman, then as a pharmaceutical salesman. He meets Maggie Murdock (Anne Hathaway) when sleazy doctor Knight (Hank Azaria) actually permits him to join Dr. Knight’s consultation with her as a patient, during which time he sees Maggie’s exposed breast. (Sounds like a lawsuit to me.) Maggie is a “free spirit” – she loves her photography, lives in a pleasantly chaotic loft apartment, and – gasp! - speaks her mind. She struggles with an unusually early onset of Parkinson’s, and while she at first keeps her cards close to her chest because of it, James proves different from most men, and love and romance bloom.

Both Gyllenhaal and Hathaway have proven themselves fine actors before, and her excellent portrayal of a young person facing mortality had me wishing the film devoted more time to the subject. But instead of seducing us with his caddish charm, Gyllenhaal does little more than cause groans. And he’s rarely funny in this movie, so either Jake isn’t suited to play a superficial slut, or director Edward Zwick gave him a bad set of instructions. His kiss-ass, dancing-and-singing-with-the-customers routine at an electronics store is positively cringe-inducing.
 
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HARRY POTTER AND THE DEATHLY HALLOWS - PART 1 Review (2-1/2 out of 5 stars)

A brooding, sloppily paced seventh chapter. 

HARRY POTTER AND THE DEATHLY HALLOWS: PART 1 ventures onto territory completely unique to the wildly popular ($5 billion-plus and counting) series. In this brooding, sometimes violent and often hopeless seventh and final chapter - the first of two parts, no less - Voldemort’s forces finally wrest control of our cherished land of magic and wizards. The Disneyworld-like wonders we’ve grown so accustomed to are now shrouded in darkness, and our returning, fresh-faced protagonists – though not nearly so fresh-faced as they used to be –– find themselves both on the hunt and hunted. Though mostly the latter.
 
The movie begins where 2009's THE HALF-BLOOD PRINCE left off, as companions Harry, Ron and Hermione (Daniel Radcliffe, Rupert Grint and Emma Watson) face this foreboding new world minus their reassuringly wise leader Professor Dumbledore, violently murdered by turncoat Severus Snape. A steady deterioration of law and order ensues, the Ministry of Magic and our beleaguered heroes’ home of Hogwarts are ceded to the Death Eaters, and all those opposing You Know Who must flee or face certain persecution… or death.

HALLOWS leaps into action with a harrowing chase scene that results in the death of one of Harry’s friends, not to mention (another) significant character from the series. So we learn early on that this is no longer strictly family viewing, as spilled blood, terror and death already fill the screen. And the scene’s shocking conclusion establishes for both the good guys and the audience that the Dark Lord and his minions now have the upper hand. Over the next two and half hours those forces embark on an ruthless hunt for Potter and his friends, the action exploding even into the formerly out-of-bounds Muggle world. After all, the old rules no longer apply. Harry and his sidekick duo venture out on their own to spare their friends the danger constantly nipping at their heels. Together they must track down the remaining five Horcruxes, symbolic objects containing Voldemort's immortal defenses. Horcruxes are the ultimate life insurance policy: not only are they a bitch to find, but they’re protected by wickedly powerful charms. (Numbers one (Tom Riddle’s diary) and two (Marvolo Gaunt’s ring) were destroyed in THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS and HALF-BLOOD PRINCE, respectively.) In the midst of this quest, the ancient tale of the Deathly Hallows is unearthed, and a race to secure that legend’s powers is initiated.

MORNING GLORY Review (1-1/2 out of 5 stars)

McAdams is as obnoxiously perky as the title suggests.

 Sigh… I entered this romantic comedy hopeful. I loved Ms. McAdams in WEDDING CRASHERS and MEAN GIRLS – she plays charmingly adorable and Queen Bitch equally well. And MORNING GLORY features acting gods Harrison Ford and Diane Keaton as crusty news folk -- kinda fun, right? Yet in the end, almost nothing works in the film: it now joins the towering trash heap that is Hollywood’s endless litany of generic, corporatized, paint-by-the-numbers “meet cute” pop vehicles.

Rachel McAdams plays the annoyingly perky (much like the film’s title) TV producer Becky Fuller, new top dog for “Daybreak,” the country’s fourth-place national morning news show. As one of her many ratings-booster brainstorms, she hires august anchor Mike Pomeroy (Harrison Ford) to host alongside longtime hostess-diva Colleen Peck (Diane Keaton). But the two instantly go for the other’s jugular off camera, the new format fails to gain ground and ratings plummet even further. So Becky goes into an over-caffeinated tizzy: a Tasmanian Devil whirlwind of madly talking to herself and ripping doorknobs off doors, all intended to charm us, I think. And as she attempts to single-handedly save the show, she must also save her budding romance with another TV producer, hunky Adam Bennett (Patrick Wilson).

McAdams unfortunately does not convince as the executive-producer-of-a-national-morning-show type, whatever that may be. She is just not it. And her utterly irritating persona makes for a weak protagonist to root for. You know her type:- every other rom com features her nowadays: the single, neurotic career woman who, despite being drop dead gorgeous, can’t get a date if her life (or career) depends on it. She’s kinda clumsy and will quickly, desperately fall head over heels (if not literally) for the first man to find her quirks charming. The first time they have sex (after the requisite, contrived obstacle course) causes her to let her hair down both metaphorically and literally. Her clothes become more feminine. Her obsession about her job lessens. This is the way women should be, right? And finding a man was all she needed! Katherine Heigl, Jennifer Aniston, and Drew Barrymore have beamed this lesson at us via the big screen time and again.
 
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FOUR LIONS Review (1-1/2 out of 5 stars)

An un-funny implementation of a brilliant idea.

I’d expected to love-love-love this film considering all the buzz out of Sundance. Not that Sundance is a reliable precursor to either box office success or wider audiences’ embrace. But while I’m absolutely, head-over-heels in admiration of the concept behind it, the clueless goons in the satire FOUR LIONS did little more than annoy and ultimately depress me as opposed to amuse and enlighten.

In a British city, four idiots declare jihad out of boredom and a need to prove their manhood. Omar (Riz Ahmed), the group’s leader and the only one with a semblance of brain function, wants to avenge the treatment of Muslims worldwide. White Islamic convert Barry (played by Nigel Lindsay and I thought in possession of the most comic potential) bursts into constant fits of contrarian rage. Waj (Kayvan Novak), who seems borderline mentally retarded, unquestioningly follows anything and everything put before him. And Faisal (Adeel Akhtar) is attempting to train crows to fly bombs through windows. (This too could have been funny, but instead is merely sad.) Together this losing team fumbles in slapstick fashion through devising and executing a mission of death and destruction at a local marathon.
 
We tend to view terrorists, an ambiguous term in itself, as fearsome individuals, steely-eyed and unafraid. These men at least do us the favor of making us consider the possibility that some such individuals aren’t that at all. Perhaps some merely desire recognition. Or for that matter are genuinely ignorant of any specific reasons for pursuing such bloody goals. It’s actually not that hard to imagine.
 
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FAIR GAME Review (2 out of 5 stars)

A cold and lifeless retelling of a riveting national scandal.

Director Doug Liman’s past work includes such noteworthy gems as THE BOURNE IDENTITY, GO and SWINGERS, which is why I found it perplexing he created such a cold and often lifeless experience in FAIR GAME. Given the film’s historic potential to shine light on a relatively recent scandal with life-and-death implications, the final result is a particular disappointment, washed out in somber grays. 

FAIR GAME’s official synopsis mislabels itself as an action thriller. There’s not much action in the traditional sense. But more importantly, the inherent psychological suspense of the events that took place isn’t fully exploited. The movie is based on the true story of former CIA spy Valerie Plame (Naomi Watts), whose career was destroyed by a White House smear campaign. She’s outed as a spy as retaliation for a New York Times editorial by her diplomat husband Joe Wilson (Sean Penn). In the editorial Wilson disputed George W. Bush’s State Of the Union declaration that Saddam Hussein sought from Niger yellowcake uranium, used to make nuclear weapons. It’s also hinted - though in reality never proven – that Karl Rove was personally involved in Plame’s exposure; the film’s title is what Rove supposedly labeled Plame once he and his cohorts set their sights on her and Wilson, a quote still shocking for its callousness.

Perhaps creating a genuinely exciting film based on these events is easier said than done? Then again, if it’s possible to make a thrilling flick out of Facebook’s creation, the Plame scandal should have been cake. (Yellow cake? Okay, bad joke.) The biggest problem I have with FAIR GAME is how miscast the otherwise multi-talented Sean Penn is – his version of Wilson is self-serious, lethargic and morose – and that’s even before the scandal that engulfed his family began brewing. While the real-life Joe Wilson comes across in TV appearances as a dashing figure, Penn's interpretation is so frumpy you have to wonder how he scored the beautiful and highly intelligent Plame. Is Wilson really as much of a bore as the film suggests? Penn also lowered his voice for the role in an odd way -- I kept wanting him to speak up.

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DUE DATE Review (2-1/2 out of 5 stars)

Ventures nowhere new in its embrace of the odd-couple-on-a-road-trip formula.

Director Todd Phillips’ first film since his smash hit THE HANGOVER, DUE DATE debuts to perhaps unfairly high expectations of hilarious inventiveness. Regardless, the movie ventures nowhere new in its embrace of the odd-couple-on-a-road-trip formula; such comedic classics as PLANES, TRAINS AND AUTOMOBILES (which also mastered DUE DATE’s uptight-workaholic-meets-carefree-slob formula) and MIDNIGHT RUN exist on a whole other plane. 

Peter Highman (Robert Downey, Jr.) experiences calamity after calamity after crossing paths with oddball stranger Ethan Tremblay (Zach Galifianakis) at Hartsfield Airport in Atlanta. Having lost his wallet and his ability to even board a plane (he gets put on the no fly list), Peter is forced to bum a ride with Ethan in his rental car to LA, where Peter’s wife will soon give birth. Comedy and chaos naturally ensues.

Downey and Galifianakis are both talented actors and funnymen, yet their comedic instincts are too often sideswiped here. Still, the movie does contain at least two genuinely hilarious moments, scenes that had me laughing loud and hard. And certain lines of dialogue and some subtle body language prompts grins and LOTI (laughter on the inside, bien sur) aplenty. Downey violently spitting in the face of Tremblay’s harmless dog for instance -- or even Tremblay’s odd, vaguely sexual caress of Ethan’s face in a hospital -- amuse because they’re so out of the blue, and out of the box. Such actions and scenes work because they’re presented in a fashion you’re neither used to nor see coming.
 
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WELCOME TO THE RILEYS Review (2-1/2 out of 5 stars)

Viewers will find solace in Melissa Leo’s magic.

WELCOME TO THE RILEYS was for this reviewer all about Melissa Leo’s performance of Lois Riley and her delightful transformation in the film - the fiery-haired actress consistently delivers. James Gandolfini (adopting an uneven Midwestern accent) and Kristen Stewart deliver passable performances, but in the end we’ve seen a kindly man save a beautiful stripper from herself so, so many times before that the end result just isn’t entirely original. 

In the movie we find Doug and Lois (Gandolfini and Leo) in an unhappy marriage, having grown apart since losing their teenage daughter in a car accident eight years before. Doug leaves his agoraphobic and practically zombified wife behind for a business trip to New Orleans, where meets a 17-year-old runaway (Kristen Stewart), and the two form a platonic bond.

The movie gets off to a murderously slow start as it spends way too much time establishing the couple’s unhappiness in a drab section of suburban Indianapolis. It begins to take off however as Gandolfini begins a series of dramatic changes to his life, starting with taking Stewart under his wing.
 
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HEREAFTER Review (2-1/2 out of 5 stars)

A flat reincarnation of life-after-death films you've seen before.

While I liked the three main characters in Clint Eastwood’s HEREAFTER, I never became attached enough to them or their stories to keep from lapsing into spells of boredom. Most of the film splits into three separate stories, which means each character disappears from the screen for ten to twenty minutes at a stretch. Perhaps if we got to see the three protagonists more consistently, it would have been easier to connect with them. 

Matt Damon is a fine actor and it wouldn’t surprise me if he one day walks away with a well-deserved acting Oscar. That said, he's so good-looking -- even with extra pounds and a dash of gray in this role -- it was hard for me to accept him as a lonely, isolated soul. (No matter how big his character’s burden.) Also, he exhibits a form of ESP, a trait we’ve seen too many times now on the screen. The scenes in which Damon’s George communicates with the deceased are just cheesy. I also got the impression I was supposed to be bowled over with emotion by his final spiritual reading in the film -- instead it came across as silly.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. What unites the central character in each of the three tales -- George, Marcus and Marie -- is their interest in heaven, or the hereafter. Damon plays George Lonegan, a San Francisco native who reluctantly communicates with the departed by holding the hands of their loved ones. Marie (Cécile De France), who lives in Paris, is forever changed by a near-death experience while vacationing abroad. And London schoolboy Marcus (played by both Frankie and George McLaren)mourns the recent loss of his twin brother, killed in a car accident. (Tragedy follows so closely upon tragedy at the beginning of the film that it's difficult to shake one's paranoia that yet more doom is in store for these folks.) Marie and Marcus’s experiences force them to delve into research on life after death. Both their quests ultimately lead them to George, who is bitter, frustrated and lonely over his "cursed" ability to transcend the physical world.

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LIFE AS WE KNOW IT Review (2-1/2 out of 5 stars)

Not horrible, with a few good laughs.

LIFE AS WE KNOW IT is not horrible, despite the modern romantic comedy genre’s poor, abused track record. The preview screening I attended was full of girls and gays - the latter surely attending in part to glimpse hunky Josh Duhamel in tighty-whiteys, as seen in the poster. (Hey, it caught this gay's attention.) Anyway, as I gritted my teeth through this groaningly obvious and ridiculous plot, I can at least say I did smile sometimes. And the audience I was with ate it up.

We first meet Holly (Heigl) and Eric (Duhamel) on a blind date set up by their mutual best friends Alison and Peter (Christina Hendricks and Hayes MacArthur), who are married to each other. So inconsiderate is Eric to Holly that after showing up an hour late, sans apology, he proceeds to make a booty call from the passenger seat of her car before they've even left for dinner. She tells him off, and that's that. Except it’s not. Since their best friends are a couple, Holly and Eric endure each other’s company again and again, and their hatred for one another only deepens with time. The silliness kicks in after their BFF’s die in a car crash: Holly and Eric are designated in the will as baby Sophie’s joint caretakers -- and (romantic) chaos ensues.
 
Question: Are our hearts really supposed to bleed for the grieving Holly and Eric when we don't know anything of substance about these characters this early in the movie? If the director had chosen to show literal cardboard cut outs of their friends crumpled in a smashed car -- two-dimensional test dummies -- I would respond with equal indifference. Alison and Peter are cardboard: pretty, bland people with no defining personality traits whatsoever. (Though we do see Peter harass a teen for being high, then confiscate the poor guy’s pot for his own use. Um, dick?)
 
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CATFISH Review (3-1/2 out of 5 stars)

An absorbing movie with a caveat: it’s not what the trailer claims it to be.
 
CATFISH literally puts you on the edge of your seat (and in this reviewer’s case, hands over mouth in incredulity) with its unexpected twists. However, despite its protagonists’ authenticity and so-bizarre-it-must-be-real turn of events – not to mention the filmmakers’ vehement insistence that none of it was staged -- I’ve got my doubts about its being 100% documentary. No matter how well it may have been edited, the dialogue’s pace and timing at times are just a little too crisp for normally messy reality. Just want to get that point out of the way. Fortunately though, in the end that question mark is neither here nor there - if anything, the mystery contributes to the film’s quirky appeal. 

Nev (short for Yaniv, so pronounced Neev) Shulman is an amiable, fledgling photographer in New York City. Shortly after one of his photos is published in the New York Sun, Nev receives in the mail a painted reproduction of the pic from an 8-year-old girl named Abby in small-town Michigan. The two become friends on Facebook (the cinematic topic du jour, with THE SOCIAL NETWORK hitting theaters Oct. 1). Nev sends her more of his photos, and Abby joyfully paints and sends them to him. Nev then becomes Facebook friends with Abby's mother Angela and older sister Megan (both very attractive in their photos). And then with their circle of friends… Enter Nev's brother Rel (short for Ariel) and best friend Henry, both amateur filmmakers. The enterprising duo, also in their twenties, see documentary fodder in this strange but sweet story of budding online friendships. They start shooting, somewhat to Nev’s chagrin.

And thus the tale, and their documentary, takes a series of zigzags none of the three saw coming.
 
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WALL STREET: MONEY NEVER SLEEPS Review (1-1/2 out of 5 stars)

A squandered opportunity.
 
WALL STREET: MONEY NEVER SLEEPS is a squandered opportunity to engage an elite collection of actors and timely brand (the real Wall Street and Gordon Gekko) to flesh out for American audiences exactly what transpired in the bowels of Manhattan’s Financial District in the past two years. Not to mention tell a great story in the process.

Mission sooo not accomplished.

Jake Moore (Shia Leboeuf) is a whiz kid investment banker living the dream life. Until, that is, his mentor Louis Zabel (Frank Langella in one of the film's few strong performances) and firm are destroyed by corporate competitor Churchill Schwartz and its oily helmsman Bretton James (Josh Brolin). Moore vows revenge. Enter Mr. Gordon Gekko (Michael Douglas of course), older, wiser and panged with regret (cough) after years in the slammer. Gekko is father to Moore's fiancee Winnie (Carey Mulligan) and soon enters an agreement with his son-in-law-to-be: Gekko will help Moore pin down the people responsible for his heartache if Moore will help Gekko reconcile with his daughter.

You can probably make a series of guesses as to how these scenarios will play out, and in all likelihood you're right on all of them. The film's unfortunate predictability and lack of imagination make for an altogether dull two hours. Perhaps what's hardest to digest however is the gross under-utilization of such an acting powerhouse as this cast presents. Shia not only comes across as unconvincing as an investment genius, but his character is such a straight-up boy scout I found his lack of hesitation to repeatedly lie to his fiancée’s face a bit hard to swallow.
 
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NEVER LET ME GO Review (5 out of 5 stars)

Gorgeous, sweeping, sad.
 
NEVER LET ME GO is based on the 2005 Kazuo Ishiguro book of the same name which Time dubbed “the best novel of the decade,” a fact the film’s fabulously forlorn poster doesn’t neglect to point out. The movie - sure to be an awards contender come fall - is directed by Mark Romanek, whose only other directorial credit for work released in theatres is 2002’s flawed but cult-classic psychological thriller ONE HOUR PHOTO, starring Robin Williams in the role of a lifetime. 

I am pleased to proclaim that Romanek easily tops his early-2000’s frosh debut and has proven himself a heavyweight contender. NEVER stars hot young acting talent Carey Mulligan (Oscar-nominated for her ingénue in AN EDUCATION and starring in the upcoming WALL STREET sequel) as Kathy; handsome budding new star Andrew Garfield (THE SOCIAL NETWORK, and the official new Peter Parker/Spiderman) as Tommy; and Oscar nominee Keira Knightley (PRIDE AND PREJUDICE, ATONEMENT) as Ruth. The three play flummoxed young school grads stumbling through abbreviated adult lives following their time at the postcard-worthy boarding school Hailsham. Young thespians Izzy Meikle-Small, Charlie Rowe and Ella Purnell impressively play their earlier grade-school counterparts in the first segment of the film– expect to see one or more of these young’uns again.

The trailer merely hints at the sci-fi(-ish) hook of the storyline, which I’ll also refrain from spelling out. Let’s just say though that NEVER LET ME GO’s bucolic British tale takes place in a universe just like ours save for one shocking-but-never-discussed-in-polite-company distinction. The love triangle of Kathy, Tommy and Ruth is utterly engrossing, as are the actors’ portrayals of the characters themselves: Carey’s long, soulful looks, Garfield’s silent anguish and shattering scream and Knightley’s manipulation of the two kept me pining for more. You know these people, and you want to know more even as the end credits roll; Mulligan could very well nab another Oscar nom for her work. The supporting cast is also incredible: Sally Hawkins and Nathalie Richard steal scenes in their small roles as conscience-racked elders, and you wouldn’t want to mess with Charlotte Rampling’s dour schoolmarm – who manages to redeem herself in the end.
 
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MAO'S LAST DANCER Review (4 out of 5 stars)

A gripping, true-to-life story translated faithfully to the screen.
 
MAO’S LAST DANCER is based on the true story of internationally acclaimed ballet dancer Li Cunxin (portrayed by newbie Chi Cao, himself a principal with the Birmingham Royal Ballet). Plucked from his tiny farming community in native China (all scenes in China were actually filmed there) in the early 70’s, Li goes on to endure rigorous training and government supervision in Beijing and ultimately embarks on a new life in Houston. Bruce Greenwood plays choreographer Ben Stevenson, to wonderful effect and with much heart, perfectly encapsulated in his sweet response to Li’s query about a racial slur. 

The movie shifts back and forth in time between Li’s regimented youth in Beijing and culture shock-laden existence - and eventual defection to - Reagan-era America, kicking off with his arrival in Texas in 1981, agog at ­the skyscrapers lining his drive into the city. From such minute details as his brothers’ family names (“Fifth Son,” “Sixth Son”) to their stern instruction in the classroom that life in capitalist countries is unbearable and dark (literally), the film deftly illustrates daily life – and the Chinese people’s terrified fealty to the State - under Mao.

Amanda Schull plays Li’s pretty (but sadly one-dimensional) young wife Liz Mackey; Kyle MacLachlan appears out of the blue as the drawling immigration attorney who assists Li in a dramatic showdown at Houston’s Chinese consulate. By then I’d felt the storyline was complete, but a far more powerful climax still lay in store that admittedly brought this reviewer to years (and I’m not a crier) and ends on a beautiful, emotional note. None of the details of which I’ll give away…
 
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Rand Paul Said Wha?

Huff Post: Hear What Rand Paul Said Yesterday?

Insane. (Video below.) He was on Rachel Maddow - quite the get for her; he'd announced his candidacy on her show as well - and she pressed him on his view that part of the Civil Rights Act of the '60s was flawed. Specifically, the law forcing private institutions to desegregate. In other words, a diner can't turn away black people. Paul thinks businesses should be able to say "we don't serve your kind" to blacks, Jews, gays - take your pick. Insane.

I adore Rachel - she performs some hard-hitting journalism - and while most television pundits would have let Mr. Paul get away with endless hedging on the subject, she grilled him for a full 20 minutes to make sure we were all clear on his point of view. And I could not believe my eyes and ears.

What will be more depressing is if the man actually wins despite this - it's Kentucky, and Kentucky trends Republican. On a brighter note, the Democratic primary drew bigger numbers than the Republican primary, a possible sign that Democrats are more enthused about the race than their counterparts. We'll find out in November. If he's smart, the (D) nominee, Kentucky Attorney General Jack Conway, will pound away on his opponent with this new piece of information every day until the polls open.

CNN's Non-News

The Wrap: "Campbell Brown Quits CNN, Falls on a Sword"

People yawned at this story. I yawned at this story. CNN is a joke, losing half their viewership in the last year if I remember correctly? Which makes me happy because it at least means people know ineptitude when they see it. I think CNN should go the non-profit route. They could be our BBC and no longer feel the need to dumb their content down for ratings' sake or to compete with Fox and MSNBC's bloviating. But as long as they make merely cosmetic changes to their programming, nothing is going to change.

It would be soooo nice to have a news network that performs reputable, fearless reporting. On the danger of corporate monopolies, need for campaign finance reform, failed drug war, unchecked lies of politicians and pundits, outdated minimum wage, our deranged health care apparatus, need for election reform, bloated war budget, insensible occupations of Afghanistan and Iraq, and on and on. There's no shortage of news to report on - let alone news not getting reported elsewhere. And this is due to media congloms' obsession with the bottom line, and failing in their obligations as the fourth estate.

Tiny Helpers

One evening while catering a party in LA, I spent some time with the kids, who were bored with all the adult talk. These 5-7 year-olds helped me serve dessert, then clear tables -- and they had a blast with it. I told them they were naturals at the job - I'd get them applications! - and two of them carefully wrote down their numbers so I could schedule interviews. One little one enjoyed himself so much that when Dad said it was time to go, he cried his eyes out. He wanted to spend the night there with me! He got it into his head that the hotel was my home. I pulled him aside and told him the manager would be locking up so we'd all have to leave, and he accepted that unquestioningly. At the end I tipped them each a dollar, watching their eyes light up. Just getting those kids to grin, to run up to me yelling "Thomas! Thomas!" to see how else they could help... Well, let's just say that a certain cocktail napkin with backward 3's is now a treasured possession of mine.