Trailer Park: The Dark Knight (2008) [Dominos Trailer]

Apologies for turning this blog into a walking promotional tool for the benefit of Mr. Wayne, but I just haven't seen a lot of trailers that rock me like The Dark Knight's marketing campaign. Finally more new footage, released through Domino's Pizza's TDK website.

I think I have my first negative comment about the movie. Brace yourselves. I don't like Ledger's inflection here when he says, "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen; we're tonight's entertainment." It sounds lackadaisical, bordering on bored. I much preferred the earlier trailer's rendition, which sounded a little more like "Gooooooood evening, ladies and gentle man... We're tonight's entertainment!"

Other than that, no complaints. July 18 can't come fast enough.

My Idols.

I suppose in a lot of ways I'm just trying to do what these guys are doing.

Trailer Park: The Punisher: War Zone (2008)

First of all, it is wholly a coincidence that every single trailer I've reviewed so far is for comic book movies. I think I'll have to review Mamma Mia or something just so I don't seem one-sided.

Can I begin by saying I actually liked the Tom Jane Punisher from 2004? I know a lot of people hated it because it allegedly wasn't faithful to the comic book's tone, but I don't know that that's essential to being a good movie. Sure, "excellent film" it wasn't, but it was good escapist fun "to my liking." So a sequel seems like fun. Except it doesn't have any original cast or crew?

Hey, that's not a problem. The Incredible Hulk was better than the first movie which I kind of liked to begin with. Batman Begins, of course, was a marked improvement on the sad state of the series. Reboots can work.

Except I seem bored by this trailer. Yeah, guns; yeah, vigilantes; yeah, illuminating darkness to reveal gun-toting vigilantes. I get it. I've seen this already. Show me something I haven't seen, marketing team. Show me Wayne Knight as the sidekick! Give me a glimpse of the villain beyond nondescript mobsters at a dark table by a fireplace.

Sure, I'll probably end up seeing this movie, but it's not high on my list based on this trailer.

The Punisher: War Zone drops on December 5.

The Brothers Solomon (2007)

Upon completing a Saturday night screening-on-Starz of Bob Odenkirk's The Brothers Solomon, all I could do was turn to my father, who had silently endured the whole ordeal with me with few words of protest, and apologize - apologize for both the dismal would-be spectacle and for my unwillingness to change the channel in the supremely vain hope that the situation would improve.

Although the movie's end brought with it an overwhelming wash of gratitude - not just for the finality of banality but for the reminder that I had not paid a cent to see it. I was also grateful for the removal of the sensation that I give too many good reviews. I had previously questioned my ability to objectively review a movie for fear of liking movies too much, but The Brothers Solomon reminded me that, yes, I can dislike a movie. And intensely dislike it I did.

Sheltered brothers John and Dean Solomon (Will Arnett and Will Forte) find out that their comatose father's (Lee Majors, whose career is currently as lifeless as his character) last wish was to see his first grandchild. Despite being ludicrously inept with women, including sexy neighbor Tara (Malin Akerman), John and Dean vow to have a child, eventually resorting to the use of a surrogate mother (Kristen Wiig), who comes with an on-and-off boyfriend (Chi McBride, who provides the majority [which should not imply a great deal of laughs] of the weak chuckles the film elicits).

While Get Smart unfortunately placed all the funny bits in its marketing campaign, The Brothers Solomon had deceptively funny trailers, the humor of which is strangely missing from the film. While I distinctly remember laughing at the commercials, I found myself not laughing at the movie, rather making a few chuckling noises that could easily pass as sound effects accompanying blowing my nose (the real reason I haven't reviewed in a week). The characters try to be endearing and funny, but they succeed in being annoyingly aggravating, as abrasive as a cheese grater, and as entertaining as fresh paint in the early stages of dehydration.

I mentioned McBride in the connotation of providing laughs, but perhaps that was an exaggeration. This B-list version of Forest Whitaker (which I suppose makes him a C-list version of Denzel Washington, right?) does little more than drop F-bombs and act imposing, which is admittedly more acting than Forte and even Arnett (who was marvelous as GOB in Arrested Development but is disappointingly lackluster) are doing here. Even Akerman, whose performance here makes me question her casting in Zack Snyder's Watchmen (landing in 2009, comic fans heretofore living under a rock), never really succeeds in portraying the sexy neighbor (a term I repeat since I can't find any other purpose to her character), a role which strangely isn't aided by a rooftop hot tub scene.

I say with a great deal of confidence that this is the worst movie I've seen all summer, possibly all year. Of all time? Perhaps, but that's only because, like Drew Barrymore of Adam Sandler in 50 First Dates, I tend to forget bad movies, which fade from my mind like an old soldier.

May The Brothers Solomon quickly join those ranks of the few, the don't-be-so-proud, the ugly.

Trailer Park: Hellboy II: The Golden Army (2008)

This is actually the second trailer for Hellboy II: The Golden Army, but aside from being mostly similar, I think this trailer does more than the first trailer. Granted, I'm going to be seeing this movie regardless of its ad campaign, but I like how this trailer is distinct from others in that it doesn't have as much of the corny narration the first one did, and it introduces the movie by giving us a full scene before letting us know what the heck we're seeing.

Inspired casting in Ron Perlman as the big red devil Hellboy, and it's always good to see Jeffrey "George Bluth, Sr." Tambor getting work. This looks visually more complex than the first Hellboy movie, and I guess this is my only criticism of the trailer. This looks more like a Guillermo del Toro movie (in the style of Pan's Labyrinth) than a Hellboy movie. I know it's both, but I suppose I'm just spitting at a lack of visual continuity with the first one.

Oh, and despite how this trailer appears, Hellboy does use his "Aw, crap" catchphrase. That's just in the first trailer, though.

Trailer Park: The Dark Knight (2008) [Comcast Trailer]

Not a lot of new material in this trailer, at which Comcast subscribers got a first look, but we do get a little more of "funny Joker." "I'll settle for his loved one" is still menacing, but the sing-song inflection is more like the comic book Joker, who isn't afraid to crack wise every once in a while. And we get a sense of The Joker's purpose - he's after Harvey Dent for some reason. Could it be Joker's alliance with the mob that leads him to target Dent? Does this mean the rumors are true that Joker is the one who scars Dent?

I cannot wait for this movie.

Trailer Park: The Dark Knight (2008) ["Happy Trails" Trailer]

[Video deleted by Youtube: Visit http://whysoserious.com/happytrails/trailer.htm]

After the first full trailer landed, the Internet was abuzz. It seemed you couldn't go anywhere on the Net without hearing one of two things - "Heath Ledger is amazing!" and "Why didn't we see any Aaron Eckhart yet?"

This new trailer responded to those notions in spades. After the truly tragic passing of Heath Ledger in January of 2008, The Dark Knight was receiving even more buzz, if fathomable. In spite of ridiculous accusations that the role of The Joker had killed Ledger, the marketing campaign went on, albeit with a new focus on Harvey Dent, the lawyer who (spoilers) becomes villain Two-Face.

So "Happy Trails" (again named for a viral marketing site) amps up the Harvey Dent content, as well as giving us more Joker. But this Joker is more menacing than any previous incarnation, and this Harvey Dent is by comparison entirely more innocent than any other version we've seen thus far. He seems genuinely concerned with doing the right thing, being Gotham's white knight.

So his descent into darkness is going to be all the more tragic because of that. The standout feature in my mind (that is, excepting the all-too-awesome "Kill... the Batman.") is the lighting. Quite an esoteric pick, but watch Harvey Dent throughout the trailer. Notice the lighting on his face - the left half (the half that will be scarred by acid in the comics and Lord-knows-what in this movie) is almost always lit darker than the right half. That is a brilliant touch.

And is that Maggie Gyllenhaal being thrown off a building by The Joker? This movie just gets better and better.

PS: Hi-def version at http://whysoserious.com/happytrails/trailer.htm

Trailer Park: The Dark Knight (2008) ["A Taste for the Theatrical" Trailer]

[Video deleted by Youtube: See http://atasteforthetheatrical.com/deathtrap/default.htm]

Though I've been waiting for The Dark Knight since the end of Batman Begins (in which Batman examines an evidence bag with a joker card inside), I think this trailer really solidified in my mind the notion that this movie was going to rock. After a lackluster teaser, I was ready for something more substantial.

"A Taste for the Theatrical" (so named for the viral website on which the trailer was found) is one of the best trailers I've ever seen. I think the reason this one works so well is that it preys on the audience's common thought - "Is Heath Ledger going to be any good as The Joker?" Notice how The Joker doesn't really clearly appear on-screen for almost a minute, when we get that eerie shot of "Evening, commissioner!" With that shot, I forget entirely the whole Brokeback Mountain thing and instantly know that this interpretation is going to make me say "Jack who? Who Romero?"

Oh, yeah. And there's some good shots of Batman, accompanied by a goosebump-inducing score by Hans Zimmer and James Newton Howard. My only lament is Maggie Gyllenhaal, who seems even more numb than Katie Holmes.

But hey, I was wrong about Heath Ledger. One question, though - where's Harvey Dent?

PS: I know that the YouTube video isn't the best quality, so visit http://atasteforthetheatrical.com/deathtrap/default.htm for the high-definition video (available for download!)

Trailer Park: The Dark Knight (2008) [Teaser]

Now it should come as no surprise to anyone that The Dark Knight is my most anticipated movie of the summer, and perhaps of my life. So it's only natural that my first few excursions into the Trailer Park should be the brilliant marketing campaign surrounding Christopher Nolan's second Batman movie.

The first teaser trailer landed in late 2007 (I want to say around October, but it might have been summer). I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little bit disappointed in this one, but props to the marketing team for originality here. Most teasers are quick flashes of action scenes and too-cool character shots, but this one is unique in being totally blank except for The Bat logo and a few lines of dialogue.

If I had only this teaser to go on, I wouldn't be optimistic about Heath Ledger's Joker. The voice doesn't sound distinctive enough, and the laugh falls flat when compared with Mark Hamill's.

Thank God Nolan has "A Taste for the Theatrical."

Get Smart (2008)

Would you believe "best movie of the year"? No. Would you believe "funniest movie of the year"? No. Would you believe "so-so espionage farce with a few good chuckles"?

That's approximately my assessment of Get Smart, a movie that unfortunately let all of the good parts out of the bag with its marketing campaign. A sequel/update of the classic television series of the same name, Get Smart is a spy farce in the tradition of Austin Powers with Steve Carrell as the imperfect Maxwell Smart, Agent 86 in CONTROL.

When Smart is promoted by The Chief (Alan Arkin, perhaps the funniest actor in the movie), he teams up with sexy superspy Agent 99 (an incredibly gorgeous Anne Hathaway) and the suave Agent 23 (Dwayne Johnson, who is still "The Rock" even if he drops the nickname from his credits) to fight the forces of KAOS and its pseudo-leader Siegfried (Terence Stamp, who's again as out of place here as he was in Elektra). Obligatory references to the original TV show, half-hearted laughs, and spectacular explosions ensue.

Something tells me this movie would have been funnier if I hadn't seen the trailers, although call that the "Cinema King Paradox" - too-good trailers ruin a movie, but I wouldn't see a movie if I didn't like the trailers. Go figure. The problem here is that all the funny moments, punchlines, and slapstick choreography have been spoiled by the trailers, which contain the best parts of the film. One notable exception - Alan Arkin delivers a line near the end of the film that made me about fall out of my chair. Oh, yeah, that and crunchy pudding. And a hysterical cameo by Patrick Warburton (Puddy) as... well, I won't ruin it. Best casting since Heath Ledger as The Joker, though.

(Speaking of The Joker, I was inordinately thrilled by the presentation of the "Happy Trails" trailer for The Dark Knight which appeared before my screening of Get Smart. Available at http://whysoserious.com/happytrails for those poor folks who haven't seen it yet.)

Perhaps part of the problem is that Get Smart tries to be a serious espionage story with injections of comedy. What's then disorienting about that is that the film falls into all the spy tropes - feuding partners who fall in love, a surprise double agent (whose identity I predicted even before the story introduced the threat of a double agent), the villain's henchman who develops a conscience, &c - without adequately poking fun at these cliches --- something the Austin Powers scene did brilliantly. [I still crack up at the scene where Dr. Evil's son asks him of Austin Powers, "Why don't you just shoot him?!"]

There aren't as many laughs as the trailer would lead you to believe, and if you've seen the trailer, you've already seen the best parts of the movie. But there's something to be said for a movie that contains a ton of explosions, something a filmgoer such as myself can always appreciate. It's just that I was looking for something a little more substantial in a movie this weekend. Of course, it was between this and The Love Guru, so I think my choice was fairly obvious.

Oh, well. Missed it by that much.

After the Thin Man (1936)

I can only think of a few sequels that were better than the original - The Empire Strikes Back, Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, Goldfinger, High School Musical 2 (joking, of course - the first was better). Now we ought to add W.S. Van Dyke's sequel to The Thin Man - the appropriately titled After the Thin Man - to that list.

Is this the first sequel in film history? Mmm, probably not - Bride of Frankenstein predates this one by a year. But the degree to which this movie improves on the original is something for which modern-day sequels could learn a thing or two; pay attention, Joel Schumacher, because your Batman movies were the lousiest sequels this side of Caddyshack II.

Capitalizing on the popularity of Nick & Nora Charles (William Powell and Myrna Loy), After the Thin Man takes the focus off the mystery and shines a spotlight squarely on the never-inebriated Charles detectives. Upon being invited to a dinner party, the Charleses learn that Nora's cousin's husband has gone missing. Though he's found easily enough, a murder mystery quickly develops with a shady cast of suspects through which Nick has to wade at his wife's insistence - despite their promise to leave sleuthing behind.

While I said I laughed the whole way through Planet Terror, it's a different kind of laughter that permeated my experience with this movie. The dialogue is smart and witty, effortlessly funny, and fueled by engrossing performances. Based on a story by Dashiell Hammett, After the Thin Man realizes that the magic of the first movie wasn't in the nail-biting mystery surrounding Clyde Wynant, but it was the interplay between Powell and Loy, which is successfully amped up here. This is a formula that Blake Edwards would repeat with A Shot in the Dark, realizing that the key to The Pink Panther's success rested not with David Niven's suave jewel thief but with Peter Sellers's hysterically bumbling turn as Jacques Clouseau.

The supporting cast is great, too. James Stewart is the stand-out name of the back-up cast, since he went on to a much larger career than most anyone in the movie, but the movie is populated with character actors and incredibly slippery suspects. Asta the terrier gets a pretty solid role, too; I don't want to spoil his subplot, but let's just say I'm surprised the filmmakers got away with this joke in 1936. *wink wink*

But the stars are unquestionably Powell and Loy, whose chemistry is something that today's supercouples can only envy - sorry, Brangelina. You can tell these two really love each other - even though Nick has Nora put into lock-up after he doesn't acknowledge her as his wife. The banter between the two of these is delightful, snappier than most of the dialogue in Juno, and the film's last line - "And you call yourself a detective!" - is the cleverest set-up for a sequel since "Luke, I am your father!"

Planet Terror (2007)

Director Robert Rodriguez has never been known for high cinema; indeed, most of his movies pride themselves on being ridiculously over-the-top and purely for entertainment value. Planet Terror (originally paired with Quentin Tarantino's Death Proof in the 2007 commercial disaster Grindhouse) is no different, with the exception of being the best of the unique genre of "trash film."

That's not to say that the movie is trash; it's an homage to the trash films of the 70s. Rodriguez's love of garbage culture really shows here, but I'm not sure he realizes that he's doing those movies one better.

Planet Terror is, in a way, the zombie movie to end all zombie movies (in fact, if I never have to see another "...of the Dead" movie at the box office, it'll be too soon). When Lt. Muldoon (Bruce Willis) and his men unleash a concentrated nerve gas on a small Texas town, a few distinct characters struggle for survival - former go-go dancer Cherry Darling (the absolutely stunning Rose McGowan), who's short one leg; the mysterious El Wray (Freddy Rodriguez - no relation), who's too good with a loaded gun; Sheriff Hague (Michael Biehn), who's after his brother JT's (spot-on Jeff Fahey) barbecue recipe; and Dr. Dakota Block (Marley Shelton), who's just managed to escape from her villainous husband Doc Block (Josh Brolin, who's better here than he is in No Country for Old Men).

Though the plot is clear and crisp, you'll probably be paying more attention to the intentionally grungy visuals, the strikingly hysterical dialogue, and the flashbulb-photographic memorable images. The entire film is digitally "enhanced" with scuffs, scratches, and pops on the screen, so it looks as though you're watching a degraded film reel. That sounds like an annoying effect, but its execution is nothing short of mood-setting brilliance.

Rodriguez, who always writes his own screenplays (with the exception, of course, of Sin City), is at the top of his game with this one. Planet Terror is fast-paced, action-packed, and funnier than a Jim Gaffigan marathon (okay, maybe not that funny, but you get the picture). A lot of the humor comes from the intentionally corny dialogue, with lines like "I'm gonna eat your brains... and gain your knowledge!" and "It's go-go, not cry-cry" among the many that have entered my own personal vocabulary.

Then there's the iconic image of Cherry Darling, her leg replaced with a machine gun. We return to that old Godard-ism that "All you need for a movie is a gun and a girl." Somehow, I doubt this is what Godard had in mind when he delivered that famous aphorism, but darned if it isn't a fulfillment of that theory! Ignoring the impossibility of the physics involved in Cherry shooting her leg, there's just something damned cool about her. Points to Rodriguez for a brilliantly cool shot where Cherry, after decimating an army of zombies, blows the smoke from her gun-leg's barrel and later dons a pair of tinted sunglasses with a tremendous explosion behind her. Phew... cool.

High cinema it ain't, but Planet Terror is most certainly one of the most entertaining movies of 2007. A wild ride from start to finish, the most fun I've had at a movie since I-can't-remember-when, Planet Terror is one of those movies that tries so hard to be liked - and succeeds.

Boom Town (1940)

There Will Be Blood - Lite is perhaps the best way I can think to describe Jack Conway's oil tycoon epic Boom Town. Certainly less taxing on the senses, Boom Town is something that P.T. Anderson's oil epic isn't - intentionally funny.

Boom Town is the story of two Johns - "Big John" McMasters (Clark Gable) and "Square John" {"Shorty" for short} Sand (Spencer Tracy) - with Claudette Colbert as Betsy, the woman they both love. Big John and Shorty are wildcatters, oilmen prospecting in sketchy territory. When Shorty's girl comes out west to see her beau, she ends up marrying McMasters. The grudge Shorty bears eventually kills the partnership, but the ill will doesn't stop there. It all builds up to an anti-trust federal case... and a surprise exercise in making things right.

Now, any movie with these three stars - and Hedy Lamarr thrown in for good measure as one of the oil men's lovers (I won't reveal whose) - can't be all bad. And it's true: Boom Town isn't all bad. The Gable/Tracy chemistry (for lack of a better word) is stellar, with Tracy as the perfect straight man to Gable's jovial amigo-to-all. Ditto for the Gable/Colbert chemistry, which panned out so well in Capra's 1934 It Happened One Night, the screwball comedy/road picture to end all others.

The special effects are, for the time, enthralling, but there's never a moment where we really believe Gable and Tracy are approaching a burning oil derrick - something I suspected Daniel Day-Lewis really did in TWBB. But you don't come to this movie for stellar special effects; it's the acting firestorms you'd be looking for, and the movie delivers. Unfortunately, though, the film builds to a climax that comes too early, in a fistfight that precedes the court battle. Maybe it's the jaded filmgoer in me, but I was expecting a tragic Wuthering Heights-esque ending to the Big John/Shorty partnership, but the movie outdoes Ian McEwan in terms of atonement here and ultimately disappointed me, the guy looking for an unhappy ending.

Ah, the simpler times, when buddies were buddies no matter what. Kind of makes me nostalgic. Kind of makes me want to go build an oil derrick. Who's with me?

The Incredible Hulk (2008)

Undoubtedly and by leaps and bounds, Louis Leterrier's 2008 reboot-slash-sequel The Incredible Hulk is a vast improvement on Ang Lee's 2003 Hulk, which left an empty feeling in the pit of my stomach.

But, as Spencer Tracy remarks of David Wayne in Adam's Rib, "he wouldn't have far to go, either." With Ed Norton as Dr. Bruce Banner, aka The Hulk, and Tim Roth as villain Emil Blonsky, the film has a good headstart as it leaves the gate.

There's not a whole lot in the way of exposition in the movie, which from a "slugfest" point of view is a great adrenaline rush. The movie finds Banner in Brazil, with General Ross (a mustachioed William Hurt) trying to find the gamma-radiation-infected scientist. Each time the two encounter each other, Banner transforms into the not-so-jolly-green-giant Hulk and tears apart every army platoon thrown at him. Banner ultimately wants to cure his condition, while Ross wants to dissect it.

Mercifully, this incarnation is more "Hulk smash!" than Lee's "Hulk angst!" In a large way, The Incredible Hulk is a great deal like Terminator 3 - it's a chase film, plain and simple, with one party chasing another until the ultimate confrontation, replete with hand-to-hand combat, reversals of fortune, and gobs of property destruction. The special effects are, well, special and (appropriately enough) incredible. Amazing what five years can do; rather than Lee's big green blur of a Hulk, this Hulk is defined, as is his hulking adversary Abomination. The creatures, between which we're sandwiched during the epic final battle, seem more real - but not quite, yet. Give it a few more years; maybe by the 2011 Avengers movie we've been promised, we'll have a totally realistic Hulk.

I've commended Norton and Roth for the intensity and depth they bring to their characters, but the weak link in the acting chain is Liv Tyler, who replaces Jennifer Connelly as the love interest. Worst recast since Roger Moore? Probably. Tyler is boring, and we wonder what Norton could possibly see in her. Then again, Norton has a history of on-screen romances with dull women: I cite Jessica Biel's vapid turn in The Illusionist as proof positive of this unfortunate trend. Speaking of superhero girlfriends, this summer we've got a line-up of Gwyneth Paltrow (Iron Man), Tyler, and Maggie Gyllenhaal (The Dark Knight); what's next, Katherine Heigl as Wonder Woman? (Oh, please, God, no.)

All that said, there's something... off about this movie. I'm not sure what it is. Maybe it's Tyler's lackluster performance. Maybe it's the frustration I get at Banner's oft-repeated mantra, "I don't want to control it. I want to cure it." That's equivalent to Superman saying he would rather live in a red-sunned solarium all day rather than learn to use his powers. Or maybe it's that I expect something more from a superhero movie than constant running. Shouldn't a hero confront his problems?

The film strikes a curious final note, with an ambiguous ending for Banner. At least, the director intended it to be ambiguous. Then comes one of the best cameos in movie history - Robert Downey Jr. struts in as Tony Stark, giving that "Marvel Universe" feel to the movie. Heck, it's almost worth it to see Downey Jr. playing the role for which he was born.

Take that, Tropic Thunder.

Superman: Doomsday (2007)

Mark it, dude - the first cartoon reviewed by The Cinema King.

2007's Superman: Doomsday, which recounts the wildly popular early-90s comic book plotline (The Death of Superman) in which Superman died. The Bruce Timm/Paul Dini partnership, which brought us those great Batman and Superman cartoons from the 1990s, is not playing their best hand here, but it's a good college try.

The basic plotline is about all the movie shares with the source material. Doomsday, an unstoppable killing machine, is unleashed by an unorthodox drilling experiment led by Superman's nemesis Lex Luthor (as voiced by James Marsters, Buffy's Spike). Superman (the voice of Adam Baldwin) confronts the creature, and the two kill each other. While the rest of the world mourns, Lois Lane (Anne Heche), who had been dating Superman, begins to piece together his secret identity as Clark Kent... until Superman returns from the grave, with a new darker look on life.

One thing the movie does really well - in prefect adherence with the comic book - is its depiction of Doomsday as a brute force of nature, every bit Superman's equal. The "slugfest" scenes (such is the official terminology in the comic book writer's world) are perfect in casting Doomsday as the one creature strong enough to kill Superman and capture beautifully the wanton destruction it took the comic books several issues to establish.

The voice acting is getting a bit of critical applaud, especially Baldwin and Marsters. Yet I felt disoriented by the voice cast, probably due to the fact that I'm inured to the voice talents of Tim Daly, Dana Delaney, and omnipresent Clancy Brown as Superman, Lois, and Luthor (respectively). Not that the voice talents on display are subpar in any way; it's just unnerving to hear the "wrong" voices coming from familiar faces.

The most unnerving element of this movie is the implied sexual relationship between Lois Lane and Superman (who has not yet revealed his secret identity to the woman he loves).

What?

In the comics, it was always the other way around, with Clark Kent in love with Lois but holding back because of his super alter ego. Yet the reversal in this movie is almost intolerable, losing the movie its credibility in my eyes by making such a huge alteration to the comic book conventions. This goes beyond replacing The Joker's acid-scarred paleness with make-up (as Heath Ledger seems to be doing) and making The Sandman Uncle Ben's killer (as in Spider-Man 3's monumental mythology retcon). This is on a par with James Bond marrying... oh wait, that happened too. This would be on a par with Troy and Sharpay hooking up in High School Musical 3 - which, as much as I would prefer that, can never happen because of strongly entrenched story archetypes. Some things you just can't change.

Perhaps more interesting than the film itself is an accompanying documentary on the DVD entitled Requiem & Rebirth: Superman Lives! This is an enlightening look at the behind-the-scenes decisions that led DC Comics to kill off their oldest and most beloved icon, as well as examining the public and media frenzy that surrounded Superman #75. This documentary affords a rare glimpse into the backroom discussions, including video (a comic book fan's dream) detailing how storylines are mapped out years in advance.

So in a lot of ways, the documentary featurette comes more highly recommended than the feature film. For diehard fans of the Man of Steel (like myself) there are worse ways to enjoy the legacy of the Big S (Superman IV, anyone?). For casual fans of comicdom, this might be one to skip. But don't miss Requiem & Rebirth, which is more than worth the price of admission.

Kill Bill, Vol. 2 (2004)

I've made no bones about my gripe that the Kill Bill duology should have been one film. I think that, as independent films, the series is total rubbish, a series of uneven vignettes, and much like watching any ten consecutive episodes of 24.

Watching them back to back is a more liberating experience, giving the more even feel that I'm sure Quentin Tarantino intended when he made his ten-chapter revenge epic. On its own, though, Kill Bill, Vol. 2 is much more even than its predecessor.

After dispatching the first two names on her list, the still-unnamed Bride (Uma Thurman, who flexes her acting muscles here more than in Vol. 1) has three more to go - retired Budd (Michael Madsen), who had some sort of fall-out with his brother, presumably over the killings at El Paso; "hateful bitch" Elle Driver (the brutal Daryl Hannah), who is every much the Bride's match sans one eye; and finally Bill (David Carradine), Budd's brother, the leader of the Deadly Viper Assassination Squad. Flashbacks tell the story of the killings in the El Paso wedding chapel that "put this whole gory story into motion" and the training that the Bride endured under the merciless white-eyebrowed Pai Mei.

Vol. 2 is certainly more judicious in its use of nondiegetic music than Vol. 1, which at times felt more like a songbook of Tarantino's favorites (I'm thinking specifically of his use of Santa Esmeralda's "Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood" during the final battle with Lucy Liu's O-Ren Ishii, which should be a tense battle scene between equals but gets thrown off by the catchy/hip Latin beat). Malcolm MacLaren's "About Her" doesn't seem to fit in Vol. 2, but the rest of the soundtrack - which is dominated by Ennio Morricone's spaghetti western scores like A Fistful of Dollars - lends the film that epic feel that perhaps the more modern Vol. 1 was lacking.

The acting is also... well, it's present. Vol. 1 is more of a popcorn film, with samurai swords and quick action cuts, while Vol. 2 relies on acting and character development to move the plot forward. With the flashbacks, it feels more like a complete story, especially since the "Last Chapter" gives us the ultimate confrontation between Bill and the Bride (who, yes, is finally named in Vol. 2) and closes the story [even though QT has said he's got plans for a third film]. The dialogue, too, is more even, with characters consistently remaining in a set speech pattern, without the fluctuations that made Vol. 1 so distracting.

If I have an overarching complaint about Vol. 2, it's that Bill, the assassin mastermind we spent so much time hating, becomes too sympathetic - or at the very least, too interesting of a character to kill off. Maybe that's my own personal hang-up, but Bill seems to be the only character who expresses any degree of remorse over what he did to the Bride (Budd does say that she deserves her revenge, but he's not above shooting her with rock salt and burying her alive... so that negates that idea). Plus, the Bride has tears in her eyes as {perhaps this is a spoiler, but the movie is four years old, as well as pretty much telling you how it ends in the freaking title of the film} she delivers the killing blow to Bill. What should have been a moment of finality is instead an ambiguous note of "Is this the right way to end?"

Perhaps the Bride got her emotions too involved with Bill. Ah, well. Revenge is, after all, a dish best served cold.

I Now Pronounce You Chuck & Larry (2007)

Dennis Dugan's 2007 so-called comedy I Now Pronounce You Chuck & Larry offended me on a lot of levels. No, the plotline of two heterosexual firemen (Adam Sandler as Chuck and Kevin James as Larry) who pretend to be homosexual to collect one's insurance benefits isn't at all offensive. It's a lot of other factors that troubled me to the core.

Take first the fact that, as comedies go, this one isn't terribly funny. If we're being honest with each other, I did laugh at a lot of points in the film. Yet these were quick laughs, brief "Ha!" moments interspersed between scenes that are terribly unfunny. Not because they're offensive or crude, just because there simply isn't a joke in sight. Or if those pass for jokes, I missed a memo somewhere.

Also patently offensive: Adam Sandler. Kevin James is great here (and in the sitcom that made him a star, The King of Queens), but it's unfortunate that he's not the lead in a movie that could have been saved by giving him a larger role - and replacing Sandler, who continually seems bored. Sandler seldom makes eye contact with his costars, leading me to believe that he's either practicing some new tick of method acting, or he's reading cue cards because he's not interested enough in his part.

That might be the fault of Jessica Biel, who's supposed to be playing the sexy lawyer defending Chuck and Larry, with whom of course Chuck falls in love. Did I miss a meeting somewhere? Are we giving Miss Biel acting roles because she has some talent? Because she has some endearing physical characteristics? Because to be honest, I don't see her possessing either. Forgive me for needing more in a movie than She-Hulk in wet lingerie (a scene that I'm convinced was used as a trick to get straight men into the theaters without feeling "gay").

Also forgive me for being patently offended by Rob Schneider's uncredited role as the wedding chapel owner who weds Chuck and Larry. Did I mention he's supposed to be Asian? Uck. Steve Martin's Frenchman in The Pink Panther was funnier than Schneider tries to be, which is admittedly not saying much. I'm not sure which is more offensive - that Schneider tries to revive the antique tradition of "yellowface" (a term originally used to disparage the Charlie Chan film series), or that he tries to be funny. He fails miserably on both counts.

The final offense this film commits is wasting perfectly good actors in this muck of a mess. I've already shed a tear for the misuse (I should probably say underuse, since he makes the best of his part) of Kevin James, but note Steve Buscemi who has a sum total of three scenes - an insult to a talent of his caliber. Dan Aykroyd... well, maybe not a talent, but he's reduced to giving the preachy "message" of the film in an eye-rolling climax. And Ving Rhames - oh, poor Ving Rhames. The man tries his best to redeem his largely inconsequential role as a closeted homosexual fellow fireman. Rhames is over-the-top, but I feel sorry that the man who embodied Marsellus Wallace (please, no jokes about Zed here) is stuck in movies nowhere near as funny as it could have been.

Oh, and I almost forgot. It's not even original. It's remarkably similar to a 2004 Australian film, Strange Bedfellows (similar to the point that the first film's makers are in legal combat with the second's). The original might be funnier, but after this one, I'm not exactly inclined to find out.

The Thin Man (1934)

They just don't make them like The Thin Man nowadays...

In adapting Dashiell Hammett's last novel, director W.S. Van Dyke found the perfect screen pair in William Powell and Myrna Loy - heck, toss in Asta the terrier while you're at it. As Nick and Nora Charles, Powell and Loy are delightful, bearing on-screen chemistry of which most other pairs only dream. Though I haven't yet seen any of the five sequels to this movie, I'm sure I'll check them out, if only for the positively adorable pairing of Nick & Nora.

There's a mystery here somewhere about the disappearance of Clyde Wynant, the eponymous "Thin Man," but the real star is the joke-for-joke and drink-for-drink marriage of Nick and Nora Charles, wealthy socialites who can hold their liquor and banter like no other in town. Though everyone assumes Nick is on the Wynant case, Nick would much rather drink martinis and walk Asta than solve murders. Of course, once he gets on the case, it's open-and-shut.

As a mystery movie, The Thin Man isn't anything special, but at least it's easier to understand than The Big Sleep, the notoriously puzzling Bogart mystery noir by Raymond Chandler. As I said, though, the mystery isn't the star attraction, and once the killer is revealed there's no further discussion of the crime. It seems that there are two films going on at once - the plotline of Wynant's disappearance and the screwball comedy between the Charleses. The second is infinitely more interesting, without a scene elapsing without at least one belly laugh.

Of course, it says something that, no matter the irrelevance of the mystery to the overall enjoyability of the movie (similar to the Charlie Chan movie series, of which the Sidney Toler films come more highly recommended from yours truly), I'm watching this movie almost 75 years after its debut - and enjoying it.

Now I sure don't think alcoholism is funny, but Nick & Nora aren't alcoholics. They must have a wooden leg or something, especially Nick, whose ability to outdrink his wife predates the drinking contest episode of Arrested Development by about 70 years. I can't remember how much of the snappy dialogue is preserved from the original novel, but screenwriters Albert Hackett and Frances Goodrich have done a great job of crafting witty repartee.

Powell is delightfully suave as Nick Charles, the detective-by-insistence, and Loy is positively adorable as his wife Nora, whose love for her husband is as distinct as the two twin beds they sleep in. Please, God, don't let anyone try to remake this movie. Even as I write this, some Hollywood bonehead is working on a remake of The Day the Earth Stood Still with (ugh) Keanu Reeves replacing Michael Rennie.

So, George Clooney, keep your hands off The Thin Man. Because I know people will mention your name. Just don't do it. Leave perfection well enough alone.

Kill Bill, Vol. 1 (2003)

In mining for films to review, I've been digging back into movies that I love but haven't seen in a while. Quentin Tarantino's fourth film, the first volume of his Kill Bill revenge epic, fell squarely in that category, so I felt it needed to be viewed again.

I'm almost sorry I did that. KB1 is not as good as I remember it being. Though it's still rip-roaring good fun, it's not exactly high cinema. Is there anything wrong with that? Not really... but this is one of those postmodernist moments where the simulation - my memory of the film - is better than the actual thing.

What I loved about the movie - and still do - is its unique structure, which divides the story into ten nonchronological chapters over two movies. The basic throughline of the movie is the story of The Bride's quest for revenge against her assassin cohorts who tried to kill her when she left their organization. The Bride (Uma Thurman) has five names on her list, and in the first volume she gets to two of them - O-Ren Ishii (Lucy Liu) and Vernita Green (Vivica A. Fox).

It's tricky to review Vol. 1 without acknowledging Vol. 2, so at least some comparisons are necessary. Vol. 1 is a lot more action-packed and a lot more colorful than its successor, but I'm not sure that makes it a great movie. It's a lot of fun, for sure; the action scenes, incredibly violent though they are, are rousing at a visceral level, instilling "Ew" and "Ah" at all the right moments, even on subsequent viewings. The direction, despite being lifted as "homages" to other works, is visually stimulating, with angles conveying more at times than the performances.

Of course, this being a Tarantino movie, we expect two things: a powerhouse of a soundtrack and snarky dialogue that predates Diablo Cody by more than a decade. On the first count, Vol. 1 delivers in a big way; the songs Tarantino chooses fit perfectly with the scenes on screen, but at times it seems like too much of a good thing, at times overtly showy. Then again, this is the film that introduced "Battle Without Honor or Humanity" and "Woo Hoo" to American listeners, so it's certainly not all bad.

As for the dialogue, I used to love its snappiness. Now I look at Vol. 1 and realize just how uneven it is. The Bride (whose name is cleverly never mentioned in the first film, although you can see it if you freeze-frame her plane ticket) alternates between intellectualism and street speak, sometimes distractingly so within the same scene. Though the writing is clever and well-organized, it's this dialectic disparity (which fortunately seems rectified in the second installment) that hurts the overall authorial reputation Tarantino earned from the likes of Pulp Fiction.

I suppose I would like Vol. 1 more if it were coupled with Vol. 2 in one movie-going experience; that would probably launch into great movie status, since a four-hour movie wouldn't be as easily dwarfed by these shortcomings. The thing is, I don't believe Tarantino set out to make an enduring classic of cinema. I believe he wanted to make his own movie that captured all the fun and excitement of the campy flicks he grew up with. And in that endeavor, he succeded. "A roaring rampage of revenge," the film describes itself. Oh, it roars, and it rampages, and it leaves the audience slightly breathless.

Perfect it isn't, but bloody satisfying? You betcha, kiddo.

Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade (1989)

"I've got a lot of fond memories of that dog."

That's about the way I feel about the third Indiana Jones film, which I still consider to be the best of the four-film series. Recovering from the Temple of Doom debacle - a redeemable film, to be sure, but certainly less spectacular than its predecessor and successor - Steven Spielberg and George Lucas culled together this masterpiece, one of the best of Spielberg's and arguably THE best complete film of Lucas's (I exclude the Irvin Kershner-directed The Empire Strikes Back from contention on the basis of its incomplete cliffhanger ending).

I almost feel like plot synopsis is irrelevant here, since this movie is pop culture history only 19 years after its premiere. Indiana Jones (Harrison Ford, in his defining role, perhaps even more so than as Han Solo) is contracted by antiquities collector Walter Donovan (Julian Glover, who is the only actor holding the distinction of playing in the Star Wars, Indiana Jones, James Bond, and Harry Potter series [and a Woody Allen movie, to boot] - talk about cultural monopoly!) to recover the Holy Grail, the cup from which Christ drank at the Last Supper. Perhaps a more immediate motive for Indy is the disappearance of his father (the always marvelous Sean Connery), who was also hot on the Grail trail when he went missing. Of course, the Nazis are after the Grail, as well, so it's literally a race to the finish.

I have the same gripe here that I had about Raiders of the Lost Ark - that I remember it too damn well. This is, again, more my fault than the movie's, but here I've been able to discern a key factor in the movie's memorability factor - a script apparently predominantly written by an uncredited Tom Stoppard, who's been called the modern Shakespeare, and perhaps not without good reason - recall he's the author behind John Madden's 1998 Shakespeare in Love (no, not THAT John Madden). The writing of this film is pitch-perfect, one of the funniest action movies I've seen (take that, Pirates of the Caribbean).

The acting is phenomenal, with every member of the cast deftly moving between slapstick comedy and subdued scenes of dramatic dialogue. The action scenes are spot-on, as well, directed brilliantly by Spielberg with just the right amount of levity to prevent a heart attack. And the return to Nazis and Judeo-Christian artifacts is one well appreciated in light of the more mystical Kali cult and Sankara Stones.

Like I said, I'm having a tough time reviewing a movie that I've seen dozens of times and love to death. I feel obligated to include this movie on my short list of "Perfect Movies" and also feel obligated to share that list at some point. The trouble is I have too many fond memories to look at this movie with any degree of objectivity. But that's not necessarily a bad thing, because seeing this movie again with an older eye proved to be two of the best hours I've had this month.

Find Me Guilty (2006)

I never thought I'd say these words, but here goes: I enjoyed a Vin Diesel movie.

Sidney Lumet's 2006 courtroom drama/comedy (my third Lumet film this summer... noticing a pattern yet?) Find Me Guilty suffers from what I like to call "Brad Pitt in Twelve Monkeys" syndrome. This condition of cinema (which will probably soon be retitled "Heath Ledger in The Dark Knight") is not something that speaks ill of the film. Instead, it's high praise for a performance that steps so far outside of the otherwise humdrum career of a lackluster actor and allows the person in question to actually ACT.

The actor in question here is Vin Diesel, who plays Jackie DiNorscio, a New York mobster who elects to defend himself in what becomes the longest trial in federal court history. Though he has no legal experience - save for his self-profession that he's "spent half of my life in jail" - "Jackie Dee" actually does a serviceable job defending himself against an elaborate case built by professional prosecutors.

Chalk it up to Lumet, who I'm sure is responsible for getting this knockdown bang-up performance out of Diesel. After all, this is a guy whose credits include The Pacifier and three Fast and Furious movies. So I wasn't expecting a stellar performance, but Diesel surprises here, virtually unrecognizable as he steps into the shoes of DiNorscio. Other performances here of note include Peter Dinklage as another defense lawyer, who seems miscast because he seems underused; Alex "Moe Greene" Rocco as the surly mob boss at the top of the trial; and Annabella Sciorra, who boils up the screen in her one scene as Jackie's wife.

The screenplay is electrifyingly humorous, with much of the courtroom dialogue allegedly taken from actual court transcripts. If the percent of actual dialogue is as high as a title card leads me to believe, this must have been a real circus to see! Of course, too, Lumet's direction is all right, but nothing calls attention to the direction as in some of his other projects.

One down note on the film is that the momentum it builds in the courtroom scenes - which is considerable and hysterical - is lost in some of the other scenes, so the movie feels like it drags its heels in a few spots. It's also a disappointment to read that, in real life, the jury in the case had been bribed.

The movie on its own, though, as a whole, is perhaps not Sidney Lumet's best work, but it's unquestionably Diesel's best work to date.

The Rules of Attraction (2002)

Though 2002's The Rules of Attraction bills itself as "From the corrupt minds that brought you 'Pulp Fiction' and 'American Psycho,'" I wouldn't go in expecting the magic that director Roger Avary (co-writer of Pulp Fiction, though I understand that claim is a little sketchy) and source novelist Bret Easton Ellis (who also wrote the American Psycho novel) offered up in their earlier projects.

That isn't to say that The Rules of Attraction is wholly without redemption. A fundamental problem with the movie is that its characters not only are for the most part unlikable, but they demand not to be liked.

The character map sounds like something Shakespearean in scope. Sean Bateman (James Van Der Beek) brother of American Psycho Patrick Bateman) is a self-proclaimed "emotional vampire" who falls in love with Lauren (an endearing Shannyn Sossamon), whom he believes is writing him purple love notes filled with glitter. But Lauren is really in love with Victor (Kip Pardue), a sex- and drug-addled student taking a semester abroad. Lauren's roommate Lara (Jessica Biel way-back-when) is similarly promiscuous, though she has her eye on Sean - as does Paul (Ian Somerhalder, alias Boone from Lost), a depressed homosexual looking for Mr. Right.

With the partial exception of Lauren, no character was sympathetic enough for me to grow attached to. Where Patrick Bateman (as portrayed brilliantly by Christian Bale) was an oddly enjoyable anti-hero, Sean tries his hardest to be unlikeable, having no-strings-attached sex and dealing drugs without any concern for the lives he hurts around him. An Ellis trope, to be sure, but at least Bale made Patrick Bateman compelling. In fact, all the performances are heavily laced with ennui. That's not to say that the performances are boring, but rather the characters are extremely bored, which makes a difficult viewing experience. The actors involved all do a great job personifying this disillusionment (especially Somerhalder, though I find myself asking why it seems Lost destroyed what could have been a promising career), but it's distracting to have characters so vapid that I can't pay attention.

Avary's direction is also distracting. Though imaginative the first few times it's employed, Avary's repeated use of reversing the film - playing scenes backwards - is wholly overused, seeming tired and cliche by the end. Perhaps this is a stylistic point Avary tries to make, but he doesn't make it well. One style feature used well here is the typically-Ellis first-person narration, in which characters freely speak their minds in the present tense to give a better sense of what's going on. Again, though, Bale did it better; the narration here sometimes verges on Kevin Costner's turn as the brutally dull narrator of Dances with Wolves.

I'm not sure I can in good faith recommend this movie. The point of a film is to get the audience engaged, and The Rules of Attraction tries profusely to make its characters despondently inaccessible. If you're up for a challenge, though, try to get thoroughly attached to one of the characters.

Lauren melting your heart doesn't count, though.

The Mist (2007)

Resolved: if there are to be any more adaptations of Stephen King's writings, Frank Darabont must be behind the wheel. Darabont, the man behind critically heralded King flicks The Shawshank Redemption (which I'll have to get around to seeing one of these days) and The Green Mile (which I commend for being one of the most faithful and most incredible adaptations of any work of literature ever). With 2007's The Mist, Darabont did something risky - change the ending of King's original novella.

And King preferred that ending to his own. Kudos, Mr. D.

Kudos also for making one of the most suspenseful - but perhaps not the scariest - movies I've seen in a long while. By restricting the action of the plot (for the most part) to a supermarket sealed off by a mysterious creature-filled mist, Darabont keeps the film rolling with a cast of characters trying to survive. Thomas Jane (fresh off his "I just want my kids back!" cameo on Arrested Development, a cameo that probably won't be far from your mind) wants to defend his son and escape the creatures outside, supermarket employee Ollie (the fortunately inimitable Toby Jones) is the standard sidekick with a shooting-gallery twist, and Mrs. Carmody (Marcia Gay Harden, who seems to have been snubbed as a Best Supporting Actress) is the obligatory religious nut who believes the mist is an End Times reckoning from on high.

If it sounds a bit formulaic, don't let that fool you. The Mist is anything but. The performances keep the movie from verging on cardboard, and the characters are all thoroughly engaging. Though the film deals with the same themes that King has explored since Salem's Lot - the fact that the supernatural threats are less terrifying than the darkness within ourselves - the film is as disorientingly unfamiliar as the best science fiction.

Then there's the matter of the ending. What do we do with an ending like this one? Is it a desperate plea for the preservation of hope, or simply a brilliant exercise in irony? Is it the destruction of King's ending or the construction of a better one? Or is it a classic example of the theory that gets thrown around a lot when Lost is mentioned - purgatory? Whatever it is, it left me in stunned silence after the credits rolled. I'm not ready yet to assess it as a "great" or "terrible" ending, but I'll say it's unforgettable.

From a critical standpoint it seems as though I'm not saying anything earth-shattering here. Then allow this postulation: Darabont needs to sue J.J. Abrams and the makers of Cloverfield, and fast. I thought Cloverfield was an outstanding accomplishment in the monster suspense genre, but it seems Abrams and Cloverfield director Matt Reeves took more than a few pages from Darabont's what-I-now-realize-as superior film. Shaky cam? Check. Insect-like creatures and a larger crab-like monster? Check. Army presence (and possible culpability)? Check. Lovable character getting devoured by vicious pincer-bearing creature just when escape seems certain? Check. Ambiguous shock ending? You get the picture.

Skip Cloverfield and see what an original movie The Mist is. Leave it to Stephen King to outdo fresher faces in the movie world.

Lars and the Real Girl (2007)

For starters, let's say that Craig Gillespie's Lars and the Real Girl is nowhere near as disturbing as its premise might lead you to believe. The relationship between Lars (Ryan Gosling) and his sex doll "girlfriend" Bianca (humorously credited "as Herself") is much more innocent than one might initially predict, and it's a whole heck of a lot funnier.

Lars is your lonely Everyman, bouncing between a nondescript cubicle and the garage behind his brother's house (brother Gus and his wife Karin are played by Paul Schneider and Emily Mortimer, respectfully, obviously). Despite (or perhaps in spite of) an obvious romantic tension with coworker Margo (Kelli Garner, who positively glows), Lars purchases Bianca, around whom he crafts an elaborate relationship. Recognizing this as a legitimate psychological delusion, the town plays along.

This whole sex doll business is, one has to admit, a little beyond the norm of your average film fare. Yet screenwriter Nancy Oliver does a marvelous job of keeping it within the lines of cinematic plausibility, aided in no small part by a completely infatuated performance by Gosling, who really shouldn't be thought of "that guy from The Notebook" anymore. In a lot of ways, Gosling's Lars Lindstrom is like Heath Ledger in Brokeback Mountain - completely enamored with a lifeless nobody. It's not difficult to see why the townspeople play along with the Bianca facade; Gosling looks at Bianca as though she's real, as though she's the girl of his dreams.

Poor Margo. Kelli Garner is completely adorable as the would-be love interest, the quintessential girl-next-door, if only he knew. With perhaps her biggest exposure since her turn as Faith Domergue in Scorsese's Hughes-biopic The Aviator, Garner is definitely someone I'll have to keep on my radar - similar words about whom I spoke in reference to Emily Mortimer in The Pink Panther, who will break your heart here when Bianca falls ill.

I wasn't expecting to like this movie just as much as I did. It's a sweet film, emotional, guided by a few great performances. My gripe with this film is the unbelievability factor; other than Gus and a few religious figures, no one really shows any problem with accepting Bianca as a member of the community. Does this town love Lars so much that they're willing to elect Bianca to the school board? As Geoffrey Rush said in the first Pirates of the Caribbean movie, "It does strain credulity, at that."

Otherwise, I'd have to give Lars a "Recommended Viewing" certificate, if only for making sex dolls so gosh darned interesting.

Before the Devil Knows You're Dead (2007)

May you be in heaven half an hour, the old saying goes, before the devil knows you're dead.

The significance of the film's title is just one of the many things about which Sidney Lumet's latest - Before the Devil Knows You're Dead - will leave you thinking. Although I had a similar amount of unprocessed thoughts with Brokeback Mountain, I'm more inclined to label this film as "to my liking."

It seems almost a crime to give any sort of plot summary to the film, which jumps back and forth chronologically in order to properly tell the story of a heist gone wrong. (Sensing a trend in my summer movie tastes? I sure am.) Let's put it this way - you find all this out in about the first twenty minutes, anyway. Andy (Philip Seymour Hoffman) and Hank (Ethan Hawke) are two brothers, both of whom are hard up for money for reasons that the film will explain as the story progresses. So they decide on a victimless crime: the robbery of an insured mom and pop jewelry store. The catch? The mom and pop store belongs to Andy and Hank's mom and pop (Rosemary Harris [Spidey's Aunt May] and Albert Finney). Naturally, the heist goes horribly askew, and the film becomes a mix of covering the trail and making things right.

Credit Sidney Lumet's impeccable direction for keeping the film at an even pace while meandering to and fro in time. In a way, Lumet is doing the same thing that Lost has been doing for four years, only he's doing it one step better by making the flashbacks and flashforwards a) interesting and b) relevant to the plot.

Another element Lost is missing is strong character acting (of course Lost has its acting athletes like Michael Emerson, but... we're not here to review serialized drama, are we?). Each performance in here is top-notch; P.S. Hoffman deserved an Oscar for this more than he did for Capote (for the definitive Capote film, see Toby Jones in Infamous), Ethan Hawke redeems himself as an actor, and Albert Finney brings an intensity to his role that only a Brit can provide. Even Marisa Tomei, whose basic function here seems to be to stand around and look attractive, has her moments to shine.

I should also commend Kelly Masterson's masterful screenplay, which keeps the plot moving while alternating between moments of high tension and dramatic revelation. My only gripe here is that the fate of one of the main characters is left completely open ended; we last see this character running around a street corner, never to be seen or heard from again. It's as though the film should have gone on for another scene.

But it's good to see that, fifty years after his debut with 1957's Twelve Angry Men, Sidney Lumet hasn't lost his touch.

Barton Fink (1991)

Where do we begin discussion about a film like the Coen Brothers' Barton Fink? Do we examine the allegories to Nazism, the Fight Club syndrome that diagnoses most films as "it's all in his head," my personal theory that the Hotel Earle is really hell, or do we simply ask "What the heck is up with John Turturro's hair?"

After the lackluster Blood Simple., I needed a film that would restore my faith in the filmmaking abilities of Joel and Ethan Coen. It was then that I realized that I was two films shy of seeing the enire Coen canon - Barton Fink and The Hudsucker Proxy. Almost by fate, Fink fell on television yesterday afternoon, so I had to take a powwow for it.

Let me say this about Barton Fink. It is the most fascinating "slow movie" I have ever seen. That is, the pacing of the movie is deliberate and without hurry, but - though little happens on the screen for large portions of time - I could not stop watching. Even as the credits rolled, I remained glued in thought.

After his socially conscious play makes big splashes, quirky playwright Barton Fink (Turturro) lands a gig writing Wallace Beery wrestling flicks for Capitol Pictures. While desperately attempting to dodge deadlines and writer's block, Barton Fink resides at the Hotel Earle, a place where Steve Buscemi valets, strange noises come from the sixth floor, and his boisterous neighbor Charlie Meadows (John Goodman) is a constant visitor - who sometimes steals the glassware. The film is a butterfly collection of the most unique characters the Coens have ever crafted, including angry film moguls Jack Lipnick (Michael Lerner) and Ben Geisler (Tony Shalhoub), groveling gopher Lou Breeze (Jon Polito), drunken novelist Bill Mayhew (Frasier's dad John Mahoney), and his jaded sweetheart Audrey Taylor (Judy Davis).

If it sounds like a lot to take in, that's because there are a lot of parentheses in the preceding paragraph. The Coens keep the film moving and create three-dimensional figures that are characteristically Coen in their prolixity and personality overloads. The basic through-line of the film is simple - Barton Fink has writer's block. The rest of the film is a series of character-driven vignettes that give the Coens an opportunity to flex their dialogue muscles and give the actors involved the chance to show us just how believable they can make these ridiculous characters.

The central performance - though all are worthy of commendation - is Turturro's Fink. Fink is restrained, quiet, shy, and nervous; everything Turturro does, from the quiver in his voice to the way he holds his coffee cup, is completely in step with his character. Ditto for Goodman, who's perfectly cast as the jolly world's-worst-neighbor.

An added bonus is the absolutely beautiful set design and direction that make me nostalgic for a 1941 that probably never was. Every set piece contributes to the all out 40s-immersion the film projects, prompting me to say at several points, "Boy, I wish I could live there." Even the decrepit Hotel Earle, with its peeling wallpaper and occasionally igniting walls, generates that nostalgic feeling.

If we are to believe the theory that Barton Fink is a response to/remake of David Lynch's Eraserhead, it's a marked improvement. But I'm inclined to believe that Barton Fink is a wholly original Coen creation, because no one else could have come up with a product as quirky at this one.