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THE SPIRIT

A GIFT FROM MAKERS OF 300 AND SINCITY

MAX PAYNE THE MOVIE

Wall-E (2008)

Wall-E is Pixar's story of a small robot that is left alone for hundreds of years. Charming, beautiful and with an important message, Wall-E is flawless.

When the people of earth cover the world in garbage, they take off on a five year cruise, but they leave a team of robots, called WALL-Es, behind to clean up the mess. As they live generations of lives in hover chairs, tied to their projected televisions and easy-come food, WALL-E works diligently and becomes ever more lonely. That all changes one day when a cute, white robot named EVE comes to earth and begins scanning everything.

As I watched Wall-E I was taken by beautiful acting by animated characters, who essentially did not speak, create such remarkable performances that I was sucked in from the first scene. The animators are like demi-gods, creating animated life and showing it to us on screen. WALL-E's mechanical eyes appear that they should be welling up with tears and his body language is easily the most expressive I've ever seen by an animated character. WALL-E's little mechanical arms squeezed my heart tightly and hasn't let go.

When WALL-E is on earth the lighting natural and radiant. It seems even the dust is shaded properly. When WALL-E is in artificial light, his appearance changes appropriately to a more artificial look.

When WALL-E watches TV the blue colors are spot on, his eye reflections bewitchingly realistic. EVE, the white robot, sparkles in the light and is luminescent in the dark. It is that level of attention to detail that allows the audience to believe completely that this little robot has come alive.

Wall-E isn't just easy on the eyes, it is chalk full comedy that nearly emptied my bladder and actually caused me to snort. WALL-E doesn't really talk so all his humor is done through expression and situation. WALL-E isn't really able to do slapstick, but if he could, he may be called the Charlie Chaplin of robots. No opportunity to bond with WALL-E through laughter was missed, but it was obvious the writer didn't force any comedy either.

Wall-E has a message about responsibility to tell children, and their parents. When you stop paying attention to the world around you and you let your chair be your entire universe, it effects more than just you. Moreover, you miss out on the things that are truly important and the amazing things people experience when their TV's are off. Sneakily, Andrew Stanton, the writer and director, peels away the curtain of what he feels is societal wrongs, but makes you feel good that you peeked behind the curtain. How often can we be told what we are doing wrong, face it and still love the experience?

Wall-E stole my heart right from my chest and for that reason I rule that Wall-E is criminally cute. Wall-E challenged my behaviors and for that I'm grateful. I promise, you won't regret seeing Wall-E.

Eagle Eye (2008)

Boom, Bang, Vroom, Huh?, Crash, Kablam = Eagle Eye. A true escapist movie, Eagle Eye is explosive fun, as long as you don't think too much and you don't mind commercials.

Jerry Shaw (Shia LaBeouf), an underachieving slacker, is blackmailed into a criminal situation, directed only by a woman over the phone that seems able to access all the electronics connected by some kind of network. Rachael Hollowman (Michelle Monaghan) is driven into the same situation with Jerry when her son is threatened. FBI Agent Thomas Morgan (Billy Bob Thorton) and Air Force Investigator Zoe Perez (Rosario Dawson) are assigned to investigate Shaw, and, as a consequence, Rachael. They all are led by the seat of their pants on the path the woman on the phone decides.

Eagle Eye is a two hour chase scene. Jerry and Rachael are chased by the FBI, the Air Force and the woman over the phone. The FBI and Air Force are hampered by the outstanding power of the woman on the phone. The cat and mouse game often drew me to the edge of my seat. There is a particular scene involving luggage that made me laugh and dodge in my seat.

Eagle Eye doesn't require too much from the actors, only the occasional fearful face, but most pulled off the fright believably. Billy Bob Thorton's nearly over the top depiction of FBI Agent Thomas Morgan is entertaining. Thorton lucked out because Morgan is written better than most of the characters in Eagle Eye.

The writing is shaky and Eagle Eye occasionally slips off the tracks. When you find out who the woman on the phone is, I dare you not to slap yourself in the forehead.

I would not be surprised if it were accompanied by a hearty head shake. Some of the important points are a little confusing; a wrong move for a movie meant to be a shoot-em-up.

The product placement in Eagle Eye is painfully obvious and tremendously aggravating. The super smart woman on the phone tells Rachel to get in a Porsche Cayenne. She then tells Jerry to get into the Porsche Cayenne. For those of who do not already know, a Cayenne is an SUV. The unimaginably intelligent and fore thinking woman on the phone chooses an SUV for a car chase? Is there any other reason to use this Porsche Cayenne that is not product placement? In another scene Visa Check Cards and Macy's are mentioned in quick succession. Then they are directed to Circuit City for a scene that seems to be written only to show off the TV's at Circuit City. Afterwards Rachael pulls out her Capital One card. I think all of the phones are the same brand. It is nauseating and detracts from the fun of the movie. Director D.J. Caruso and writers John Glenn, Travis Wright, Hillary Seitz and Dan McDermott should be ashamed that they are trying to make us PAY MONEY to watch a commercial. This is a trend that should be stopped by active irritation by the audience on the studio, in this case DreamWorks.

If the goal of the next trip to the movies is to see a movie, wrapped in logic, seamlessly plotted, unspeckled by capitalism, and beyond any reproach, it would be smart to skip Eagle Eye. If the goal is just to check out for a couple of hours and get a little adrenaline rush, Eagle Eye would be a perfect fit.

Kung Fu Panda (2008)

Fuzzy Outsider, Kicking His Way Toward His Dream

Director: John Wayne Stevenson
Cast: Jack Black, Dustin Hoffman, Jackie Chan, Ian McShane
Rating: PG (Violence)

At once fuzzy-wuzzy and industrial strength, the tacky-sounding “Kung Fu Panda” is high concept with a heart. Even better, this animated feature from DreamWorks is so consistently diverting and visually arresting that it succeeds in transcending its storybook clichés. The tale has the consistency of baby pablum — it’s nutritious and easy on the gums — but there’s enough beauty and pictorial wit here from opening to end credits, enough feeling for the art and for the freedom of animation, that you may not care.

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The panda of the title is Po, a generously proportioned mound of roly-poly black-and-white fun voiced with gratifying restraint by Jack Black. You know the next turn in the road as well as any Disney-and-Pixar-weaned 7-year-old: Po is different, Po has a dream, Po has to struggle and so forth. Po also has a loving father, naturally (and no mother, predictably), a loosey-necked goosey, Mr. Ping (James Hong), who runs a noodle shop that he hopes his son will take over one day. Po’s unlikely passion for kung fu intervenes, leading him out of the noodle shop and into the metaphoric hot pot, whereupon he kicks, grunts and groans toward his destiny amid the usual clutter of colorful sidekicks and one nasty foe (Ian McShane, grrr).



For an ostensible outsider, Po conforms very much to familiar animated-movie type. Like Nemo and the rest of his cartoon brethren, he needs to embark on the hero’s journey, which he does with help from a miscellany of pals voiced by the usual A- and B-listers. Among those nudging and guiding Po is Master Oogway (Randall Duk Kim), an ancient turtle with a mellifluous voice and long, liquid neck who, um, invented kung fu and now serves as the spiritual adviser (Yoda) to an elite squad, including a kung fu master, the mustachioed red panda Shifu (Dustin Hoffman), and his students, the Furious Five: Tigress (Angelina Jolie), Viper (Lucy Liu), Monkey (Jackie Chan), Crane (David Cross) and Mantis (Seth Rogen).



The screenplay by Jonathan Aibel and Glenn Berger is ho-hum without being insulting, a grab bag of gentle jokes, sage lectures, helpful lessons and kicky fights. There is none of the self-conscious knowing that characterizes the Pixar factory, which makes the whole thing seem either winningly innocent or terribly cynical, depending on your mood and worldview. I’ll go with innocent, at least on first viewing, because while “Kung Fu Panda” is certainly very safe, its underlying sweetness feels more genuine than not. The Ayn Randesque bottom line of Pixar’s “Incredibles” can be difficult to argue with — namely, if everybody is special, no one is — but the heroic outsider has his own durable appeal, particularly if he’s a great big bouncing ball of fat and fuzz.



That outsider is even more irresistible when nestled amid so much lovingly created animation, both computer generated and hand drawn. The main story, executed via 3-D animation (all done on computers) and directed by John Stevenson and Mark Osborne, fluidly integrates gorgeous, impressionistic flourishes with the kind of hyper-real details one has come to expect from computer-generated imagery: photorealistically textured stone steps, for instance, and fur so invitingly tactile you want to run your fingers through it. One of the pleasures of “Kung Fu Panda” is that instead of trying to mimic the entirety of the world as it exists, it uses the touch of the real. The character designs may be anatomically correct, but they’re cartoons from whisker to tail.



In the end, what charms the most about “Kung Fu Panda” is that it doesn’t feel as if it’s trying to be a live-action film. It’s an animation through and through, starting with the stunningly beautiful opening dream sequence, a graphically bold hand-drawn interlude rendered by James Baxter that looks like an animated woodblock print with slashes of black and swaths of oxblood red. This opener is so striking and so visually different from most mainstream American animations that it takes a while to settle into the more visually familiar look of the rest of the movie. And while nothing that comes afterward really compares to it, a volley of arrows that falls down like red rain and a delicate swirl of pink petals come delightfully close.



“Kung Fu Panda” is rated PG (Parental guidance suggested). But not required.



KUNG FU PANDA



Opens on Friday nationwide.



Directed by John Stevenson and Mark Osborne; written by Jonathan Aibel and Glenn Berger, based on a story by Ethan Reiff and Cyrus Voris; music by Hans Zimmer and John Powell; production designer, Raymond Zibach; visual effects supervisor, Markus Manninen; produced by Melissa Cobb; released by DreamWorks Animation and Paramount Pictures. Running time: 1 hour 35 minutes.



WITH THE VOICES OF: Jack Black (Po), Dustin Hoffman (Shifu), Angelina Jolie (Tigress), Ian McShane (Tai Lung), Jackie Chan (Monkey), Seth Rogen (Mantis), Lucy Liu (Viper), David Cross (Crane), Randall Duk Kim (Oogway), James Hong (Mr. Ping), Michael Clarke Duncan (Commander Vachir) and Dan Fogler (Zeng).

The Further Adventures of the Fedora and Whip

CANNES, France — “Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull” is a movie for boomers of all ages, though you can bet the bank that plenty of tots will be tagging along with Mom and Dad, Granny and Gramps. Like the 1981 blockbuster “Raiders of the Lost Ark,” the first in a monster franchise that has spawned two previous movie sequels, a television series, comics, novels, video games and Disney theme-park attractions, this new one was directed by Steven Spielberg, cooked up and executive produced by George Lucas (with Kathleen Kennedy) and stars Harrison Ford as the archaeologist-adventurer-sexpot with the sardonic grin, rakish fedora and suggestive bullwhip.


This latest Indy escapade, which was shown out of competition at the Cannes Film Festival and will probably scoop up more money than the rest of the selections combined, serves as a reunion for the principal creative team. Almost two decades have lapsed since the third installment in the series, “Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade” (1989). In the years since, Mr. Lucas — whose logo for Lucasfilm received the loudest applause at the press screening in Cannes — continued to build his special-effects empire and resurrected the “Star Wars” franchise while Mr. Spielberg has oscillated between serious-minded projects and financially instrumental entertainments.



For his part, Mr. Ford rode the ups and downs of high-concept stardom, oscillating between roles that called for him to flash his customary wry grin or his equally familiar grumpy frown. He wears both in “The Crystal Skull,” though the busy story makes enormous effort to keep the mood happy and snappy and decidedly PG-13 friendly — P.C. friendly, too, as in politically correct, with fewer dark-skinned people popping their eyeballs. Not that Indy has gone soft or the natives have gone hard, mind you, only that Mr. Spielberg no longer seems as eager to cut down extras for a laugh.



Thank goodness for the fall of the Soviet Union and the rise of Vladimir V. Putin, which have expedited the return of blond-haired, blue-eyed villainy to the screen. Set in 1957, this new Indy yarn, written by David Koepp from a story by Mr. Lucas and Jeff Nathanson, takes place far from the Middle East even if it opens in a desert. The bad guys this time are cold war Reds first seen poking around an American military base and led by Irina Spalko. A caricature given crude, playful life by Cate Blanchett, Irina owes more than a little to Rosa Klebb, the pint-size Soviet operative played by Lotte Lenya, who took on James Bond in “From Russia With Love.”



Dressed in gray coveralls, her hair bobbed and Slavic accent slipping and sliding as far south as Australia, Ms. Blanchett takes to her role with brio, snapping her black gloves and all but clicking her black boots like one of those cartoon Nazis that traipse through earlier Indy films. She’s pretty much a hoot, the life of an otherwise drearily familiar party. Among the other invited guests are Ray Winstone, John Hurt and Shia LaBeouf, who plays Mutt, the young sidekick onboard to bring in those viewers whose parents were still in grade school when the first movie hit. Karen Allen, who played Indy’s love interest in “Raiders,” is here too, with a megawatt smile and a bit of the old spunk.



If only the filmmakers seemed as eager to see — and to please — the audience as Ms. Allen. There’s plenty of frantic energy here, lots of noise and money too, but what’s absent is any sense of rediscovery, the kind that’s necessary whenever a filmmaker dusts off an old formula or a genre standard. “Raiders of the Lost Ark” creaks with age now, but to look at it again is to see Mr. Spielberg actively engaging in an organic whole, taking a beloved template and repurposing it for the modern blockbuster age he helped create. By contrast, “The Crystal Skull” comes alive only in isolated segments, in a clever motorcycle chase that ends in a library and, best of all, in an eerie sequence at an atomic test site that wittily puts the nuclear in family.



The original Indiana Jones venture was inspired by Mr. Lucas and Mr. Spielberg’s love for 1930s serials, but you’d be hard pressed to find much inspiration in their latest collaboration. There’s plenty of perspiration, of course, what with the wall-to-wall chases — many tricked out with obvious computer-generated effects — that careen one into another like colliding big rigs. As expected, the high leaps and long jumps look impressive, even if it’s something of a bummer when one of the best directors working today (Mr. Spielberg) doesn’t seem to be working as hard as the stunt crew. Initially, I thought he was bored with the material (he wouldn’t be alone), but now I think he’s just grown out of this kind of sticky kids’ stuff.



Creative ennui certainly might explain why he spends so much time riffing both on his own greatest hits — Indy and company have an encounter of a close, insipid kind — and on other movies. Some of these allusions amuse (a sea of red ants parting à la “The Ten Commandments”) while others are just painful (Mr. LaBeouf done up to resemble Marlon Brando in “The Wild One”). It’s odd to see Mr. Spielberg recycling plot points already chewed through by Roland Emmerich in “Stargate,” though Indy’s brief encounter with some ferociously feathered Indians who look right out of Mel Gibson’s “Apocalypto” was a tantalizingly sweet pip, a sequel in waiting (“Indiana Jones Meets Mad Max”) or maybe just a YouTube mash-up.



“Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull” is rated PG-13 (Parents strongly cautioned). Death, but little blood.



INDIANA JONES AND THE KINGDOM OF THE CRYSTAL SKULL



Opens on Thursday nationwide.



Directed by Steven Spielberg; written by David Koepp, based on a story by George Lucas and Jeff Nathanson; director of photography, Janusz Kaminski; edited by Michael Kahn; music by John Williams; production designer, Guy Hendrix Dyas; visual effects and animation by Industrial Light & Magic; executive produced by Kathleen Kennedy and Mr. Lucas; produced by Frank Marshall; released by Paramount Pictures. Running time: 2 hours 3 minutes.



WITH: Harrison Ford (Indiana Jones), Cate Blanchett (Irina Spalko), Karen Allen (Marion Ravenwood), Ray Winstone (“Mac” George Michale), John Hurt (Professor Oxley), Jim Broadbent (Dean Charles Stanforth) and Shia LaBeouf (Mutt Williams).

You Don't Mess With the Zohan (2008)

Let me be blunt: “You Don’t Mess With the Zohan” is the finest post-Zionist action-hairdressing sex comedy I have ever seen. That it is the only one I have ever seen — and why is that? what cultural deficiency or ideological conspiracy has prevented this genre from flourishing? — does not much detract from my judgment.


Directed by Dennis Dugan from a script by Judd Apatow, Robert Smigel and Adam Sandler (who also stars), “Zohan” has its share of scatology, crude sexual humor and queasy homophobia, the basic elements from which male-centered Hollywood comedies are constructed these days. There are supporting roles for stand-up comedians (Ahmed Ahmed, Nick Swardson) and “Saturday Night Live” veterans (Rob Schneider, Kevin Nealon), a few oddball cameos (Shelley Berman, Chris Rock) and exquisitely random “as themselves” appearances by John McEnroe and Mariah Carey. Why not? Less amusingly, there are also some lumpy computer-assisted special effects, an overstuffed plot and a scattering of awkwardly executed gags. But a lot of the crude bodily-function jokes are actually pretty funny, not least because they are supplemented by more hummus-based humor than you might have thought possible.



You might also think, as I certainly did, that the Israeli-Palestinian conflict presents a singularly unpromising source of laughs. But as Yitzhak Rabin once said, enough of blood and tears. He did not go on to propose semen, urine, shampoo or hummus as substitutes, but those are, for Mr. Dugan, Mr. Smigel, Mr. Apatow and Mr. Sandler, the substances that come most readily to hand. (So does a made-up but scarily realistic Israeli soft drink called Fizzy-Bubbeleh.)



And the filmmakers spray all this stuff around in a brave and noble cause. American diplomatic efforts have so far proved inadequate to the task of bringing peace to the Middle East, but “You Don’t Mess With the Zohan” taps into deeper and more durable sources of American global power in its quest for a plausible end to hostilities. Ancient grievances and festering hatreds are no match for the forces of sex, money, celebrity and exuberant, unapologetic stupidity.



Zohan (Mr. Sandler) certainly seems to think so, though he might express his views differently, and certainly with a thicker accent. A highly skilled military operative who specializes in counterterrorism, he is basically a less anguished version of the character played by Eric Bana in “Munich.” The brilliant opening sequence places him in a tableau that would bring a tear to Theodor Herzl’s eye. Whether it would be a tear of joy or dismay I will leave to more seasoned polemicists, but there is something both appealing and authentic about a vision of the Jewish state on its 60th birthday that emphasizes lithe young bodies frolicking, flirting and playing Hacky Sack on the beach. If you will it, it is no dream.



But only part of Zohan’s life is carefree, and it’s the other part — the job that requires heavy weapons, deadly stealth and hand-to-hand combat with a superterrorist called the Phantom (John Turturro) — that drives him into the diaspora. Zohan may have a picture of Moshe Dayan on his bedroom wall, but his real idol is Paul Mitchell, the American hair-care mogul whose outdated styles Zohan studies as if they were pages of the Talmud. He wants to stop fighting and cut “silky smooth” hair. And so, like everyone else with a dream, he migrates to New York, where he finds an entry-level job at a salon run by a pretty Palestinian named Dalia (Emmanuelle Chriqui).



A romance between them seems at once inevitable and unthinkable, but the taboos that “You Don’t Mess With the Zohan” is unwilling to smash are few indeed. The movie is principally interested in establishing its main character as a new archetype in the annals of Jewish humor. He’s a warrior and also, to an extent undreamed of in the combined works of Philip Roth, Woody Allen and Howard Stern, a sexual hedonist, so utterly free of neurosis or inhibition that it’s hard to imagine him and Sigmund Freud occupying the same planet, much less the same cultural-religious tradition.



Sex, for Zohan, is like hummus: there is an endless supply, and no occasion on which it could be judged inappropriate. He is always on the make, but Mr. Sandler’s natural sweetness inoculates the character against sleaziness. In his feathery ’80s haircut and loud, half-buttoned shirts, Zohan joins a long tradition, stretching back from Will Ferrell through Steve Martin to the great Jerry Lewis himself, of goofballs who mistake themselves for studs and turn out to be right.



The film’s image of Israelis as hopelessly behind the pop-culture curve — Zohan’s musical taste belongs to the same era as his hairdo — is itself something of an anachronism. The hip-hop-inflected Hebrew pop on the soundtrack (by Hadag Nachash) provides some evidence that real Israelis are much cooler than the ones on screen. And the willingness of the American Jewish filmmakers to mock their Middle Eastern cousins is also a subtle, unmistakable sign of cultural maturity.



“Subtle” and “maturity” may seem like odd words to use about a movie that wrings big laughs from pelvic gyrations, indoor Hacky Sack and filthy-sounding fake-Hebrew and -Arabic words. But much as it revels in its own infantilism, “You Don’t Mess With the Zohan” is also brazenly self-confident in its refusal to pander to the imagined sensitivity of its audience. In this it differs notably from Albert Brooks’s “Looking for Comedy in the Muslim World,” which approached some of the same topics with misplaced thoughtfulness and tact.



I suppose some Middle East policy-scolds may find reasons to quarrel with “Zohan,” either for being too evenhanded or not evenhanded enough in its treatment of Israelis and Palestinians. Did I mention that it’s a comedy? Seriously, though, the movie’s radical, utopian and perfectly obvious point is that the endless collection and recitation of political grievances is not funny at all, and that political strife is a trivial distraction from the things that really matter. There is so much hummus, and so little time.



“You Don’t Mess With the Zohan” is rated PG-13 (Parents strongly cautioned). It is raunchy but not quite sexually explicit, and the really filthy words are either invented or foreign.



YOU DON’T MESS WITH THE ZOHAN



Opens on Friday nationwide.



Directed by Dennis Dugan; written by Adam Sandler, Robert Smigel and Judd Apatow; director of photography, Michael Barrett; edited by Tom Costain; music by Rupert Gregson-Williams; production designer, Perry Andelin Blake; produced by Mr. Sandler and Jack Giarraputo; released by Columbia Pictures. Running time: 1 hour 53 minutes.



WITH: Adam Sandler (Zohan), John Turturro (Phantom), Emmanuelle Chriqui (Dalia), Nick Swardson (Michael), Lainie Kazan (Gail), Rob Schneider (Salim), Ahmed Ahmed (Waleed), Kevin Nealon (Kevin), Chris Rock (Taxi Driver), Shelley Berman (Zohan’s father), Mariah Carey (herself) and John McEnroe (himself).

The Strangers (2008)

From Sam Peckinpah’s “Straw Dogs” to Michael Haneke’s “Funny Games,” the home-invasion thriller has proved adept at eliciting the fear and dislocation that accompany the violation of our most sacred space.

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“The Strangers” is no exception, raising the stakes with a bloody preview of the ending before flashing back to the horrors that precede it. But this is no splatter movie: spare, suspenseful and brilliantly invested in silence, Bryan Bertino’s debut feature unfolds in a slow crescendo of intimidation as a young couple (Liv Tyler and Scott Speedman, both terrific) arrive at a country getaway after a friend’s wedding.



While navigating a tense crossroads in their relationship, the pair are interrupted by a sinister threesome whose identities and motivations are concealed. Alternately innocent and threatening, the intruders bang on the door and manifest as masked, blurred shapes behind the unwitting lovers. But even as the campaign of terror escalates, the movie remains levelheaded, smartly maintaining its commitment to tingling creepiness over bludgeoning horror.



Claiming inspiration from true events, “The Strangers” builds tension with tiny details — a moved cellphone, a looping song on the record player — and empathy with victims whose intimacy is affectingly real. Like Nimród Antal’s recent “Vacancy,” this highly effective chiller suggests that a relationship in extremis is the most honest of all.



“The Strangers” is rated R (Under 17 requires accompanying parent or adult guardian). Coitus is interruptus and killing is not.



THE STRANGERS



Opens on Friday nationwide.



Written and directed by Bryan Bertino; director of photography, Peter Sova; edited by Kevin Greutert; music by Tomandandy; production designer, John D. Kretschmer; produced by Doug Davison, Roy Lee and Nathan Kahane; released by Rogue Pictures. Running time: 1 hour 30 minutes.



WITH: Liv Tyler (Kristen McKay), Scott Speedman (James Hoyt), Gemma Ward (Dollface), Kip Weeks (the Man in the Mask), Laura Margolis (Pin-Up Girl) and Glenn Howerton (Mike).

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The Chronicles of Narnia: The Prince Caspian

The characters of C.S. Lewis’s timeless fantasy come to life once again in this newest installment of the “Chronicles of Narnia” series, in which the Pevensie siblings are magically transported back from England to the world of Narnia, where a thrilling, perilous new adventure and an even greater test of their faith and courage awaits them.

One year after the incredible events of “The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe,” the Kings and Queens of Narnia find themselves back in that faraway wondrous realm, only to discover that more than 1300 years have passed in Narnian time. During their absence, the Golden Age of Narnia has become extinct, Narnia has been conquered by the Telmarines and is now under the control of the evil King Miraz, who rules the land without mercy.

The four children will soon meet an intriguing new character: Narnia’s rightful heir to the throne, the young Prince Caspian, who has been forced into hiding as his uncle Miraz plots to kill him in order to place his own newborn son on the throne. With the help of the kindly dwarf, a courageous talking mouse named Reepicheep, a badger named Trufflehunter and a Black Dwarf, Nikabrik, the Narnians, led by the mighty knights Peter and Caspian, embark on a remarkable journey to find Aslan, rescue Narnia from Miraz’s tyrannical hold, and restore magic and glory to the land.

Directed once again by veteran director Andrew Adamson, screenplay by Andrew Adamson and Christopher Markus & Stephen McFeely and produced by Mark Johnson, Andrew Adamson and Philip Steuer, the film reunites the original cast and creative team behind the blockbuster first film in the series.


Director: Andrew Adamson
Cast: Georgie Henley, Skandar Keynes, William Moseley, Anna Popplewell, Ben Barnes, Peter Dinklage, Pierfrancesco Favino, Sergio Castellitto, Liam Neeson

The Forbidden Kingdom

A 21st Century American teenager takes a spellbinding, dangerous journey into martial arts legend in the new action/adventure epic THE FORBIDDEN KINGDOM. Shot on location in China, THE FORBIDDEN KINGDOM marks the historic first-ever onscreen pairing of martial arts superstars Jackie Chan (RUSH HOUR, DRUNKEN MASTER) and Jet Li (FEARLESS, ONCE UPON A TIME IN CHINA), and features the awe-inspiring action choreography of Woo-Ping Yuen (THE MATRIX, CROUCHING TIGER HIDDEN DRAGON).

While hunting down bootleg kung-fu DVDs in a Chinatown pawnshop, Jason Tripitikas (Michael Angarano - "24", "Will and Grace," LORDS OF DOGTOWN, SEABISCUIT) makes an extraordinary discovery that sends him hurtling back in time to ancient China. There, Jason is charged with a monumental task: he must free the fabled warrior the Monkey King, who has been imprisoned by the powerful Jade Warlord. Jason is joined in his quest by wise kung fu master Lu Yan (Jackie Chan) and a band of misfit warriors including Silent Monk (Jet Li). But only by learning the true precepts of kung fu can Jason hope to succeed - and find a way to get back home.

Directed by Rob Minkoff (STUART LITTLE, THE LION KING), the film marks the first-ever onscreen pairing of martial arts superstars Jackie Chan (RUSH HOUR, DRUNKEN MASTER) and Jet Li (FEARLESS, ONCE UPON A TIME IN CHINA). Produced by Casey Silver (LEATHERHEADS, HIDALGO) and written by John Fusco (YOUNG GUNS, HIDALGO), THE FORBIDDEN KINGDOM is based on the traditional Chinese legend of the Monkey King.


Director: Rob Minkoff
Cast: Jackie Chan, Jet Li

21(trailer)

Sex and Death 101

Sex and Death 101 stars Golden Globe nominee Simon Baker (“The Guardian,” The Devil Wears Prada) as Roderick Blank, a successful executive and ‘ladies man,’ whose life is turned around by an email that includes the names of everyone he’s had sex with and ever will have sex with. Oscar® nominee and Golden Globe winner Winona Ryder (The Age of Innocence, Little Women) stars as ‘Death Nell,’ the mysterious femme fatale who becomes an urban folk hero when she targets men guilty of sex crimes against women.

The film co-stars Leslie Bibb (Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby), Julie Bowen (“Boston Legal”), Sophie Monk (Click, Date Movie), Mindy Cohn (“The Facts of Life”), Dash Mihok (Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang), Patton Oswalt (Ratatouille) and Neil Flynn (“Scrubs”).


Director: Daniel Waters
Cast: Simon Baker, Winona Ryder, Leslie Bibb, Patton Oswalt, Mindy Cohn, Neil Flynn, Julie Bowen

REVIEW:Strummer: The Future is Unwritten

RELEASE DATE : 20th September 2007-10-12
RUNNING TIME: 125 minutes
Rating: PG+15
INTERVIEWEES include: Mick Jones, Johnny Depp, Flea, Martin Scorcese, Alasdair Gillies, Matt Dillon, Steve Buscemi, Jim Jarmusch
DIRECTOR: Julien Temple
DISTRIBUTOR: DENDY FILMS

SYNOPSIS: Joe Strummer was the front man for ‘The Clash’from 1977 onwards. Four years after his death, his influence reaches out around the world perhaps more strongly than ever.

Drawing on both a shared punk history, and eventually a close personal friendship which developed over the final years of Joe’s life. Julien Temple’s film is a celebration of Joe Strummer before during and after The Clash. In the 70’s and 80’s The Clash revolutionised rock’n’roll and changed peoples attitudes forever. Structured around the idea of Strummer’s ‘LONDON CALLING’ show which went out to 40 million listeners on BBC radio between 1998- 2002 and the lengendary Strummerville Campfires, it is Joe and the people closest to him.

REVIEW:
Julien Temple was the first to film the newly formed band THE CLASH in 1976 . Then after a 20 years Joe turned up a the gate of Juliens house in Somerset and a friendship was born.

Temple’s personal friendship with Strummer stamps a bias on Joe’s life which is unmistakable and while this might detract from the story, the director never allows it to revealing a warts and all story of a man whose social conscious was also interlaced with his own faults and transgressions. Joes faults make his social conscience all the more remarkable. Most of us go through our lives complaining about how hardly done by we are, but Temple depicts a man that continued to overcome obstacle after obstacle as he tried to educate the global community. His 1980 triple album ‘SANDINISTA’ warned of a conflict that the media still hadn’t properly acknowledged.

A wandering narrative through Strummer's days of his childhood, in India, South America and London, home movies, family photos and interviews with notable fans such as Bono, Martin Scorsese Temple has resisted the urge to paint a saintly figure. The influences of Strummer’s music and his efforts with the BBC and his Stummerville Campfires is obvious. Interviews today’s social activist provide us with an insite into the effect Strummer had on his generation and the generations that will follow.

Those who grew up in the 70’s and 80’s and attended live CLASH concerts or any one of the many Campfires, may find this film a little lacklustre, but for those of us who never had that chance this is a great way to catch a glimpse of what we missed out on.

The film nicely researched and shot simply and matter of factly provide the audience with a interesting portrait of one man’s challenge to argue with the world about to fight for peoples basic rights to disagree, quarrel and even ‘clash’ with the conservative and predictable ideals of society

RANKING 7/10

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Taxi to the Dark Side (2007)

A year from now, the presidency of George W. Bush will end, but the consequences of Mr. Bush’s policies and the arguments about them are likely to be with us for a long time. As next Jan. 20 draws near, there is an evident temptation, among many journalists as well as politicians seeking to replace Mr. Bush, to close the book and move ahead, an impulse that makes the existence of documentaries like Alex Gibney’s “Taxi to the Dark Side” all the more vital. If recent American history is ever going to be discussed with the necessary clarity and ethical rigor, this film will be essential.

Mr. Gibney directed “Enron: The Smartest Guys in the Room” and was an executive producer of Charles Ferguson’s “No End in Sight,” films that show the same combination of investigative thoroughness and moral indignation that animates “Taxi.” The germ of this documentary’s story is the case of Dilawar, a taxi driver who was detained in Afghanistan in 2002 and who died in American custody at the prison in Bagram a few months later. Though Dilawar was never charged with any crime — and was never shown to have any connection with Al Qaeda or the Taliban — he was subjected to horrifically harsh treatment: deprived of sleep; suspended from a grated ceiling by his wrists; kicked and kneed in the legs until he could no longer stand.

The film includes remarkably frank interviews with American servicemen, some of whom faced courts-martial in connection with Dilawar’s death; with a fellow prisoner at Bagram; and with Carlotta Gall and Tim Golden, who reported on Dilawar’s story for The New York Times. “Taxi to the Dark Side,” however, does not simply recount a single, awful anecdote from the early days of the war on terror; rather, it traces the spread of a central, controversial tactic in that war. The burden of Mr. Gibney’s argument, laid out soberly and in daunting detail, is that what happened to Dilawar was not anomalous, but rather represented an early instance of what would soon be a widespread policy.



From Bagram in 2002, “Taxi to the Dark Side” charts a path to Guantánamo Bay and Abu Ghraib, all the while insisting that the brutal treatment of prisoners in those places was hardly the work of a few “bad apples,” as Pentagon officials said. Instead, the sexual humiliation, waterboarding and other well-documented practices were methods sanctioned at the very top of the chain of command. How those methods were intended to work — to break down psychological defenses, to induce not only physical discomfort but also a kind of madness — is laid out in interviews with behavioral scientists, and also with professional interrogators and their victims.



Though Mr. Gibney’s own views are evident throughout, he does allow those who defend the use of torture on legal and strategic grounds to have their say. By now, surely, the empty semantic debate about the appropriateness of the word torture has been settled, but it is still important to recall that in the months after the 9/11 attacks, the willingness to consider the necessity of extreme and previously taboo tactics was widespread. It was Vice President Dick Cheney who noted in a television interview that the fight against Islamic extremism would necessitate a trip to “the dark side,” as administration lawyers prepared (and later publicly defended) briefs and memos limiting habeas corpus and the applicability of the Geneva Conventions.



“Taxi to the Dark Side” includes an interview with the former Justice Department official John Yoo and clips of former Defense Secretary Donald H. Rumsfeld and former Attorney General Alberto R. Gonzales responding to their critics. And its essential fair-mindedness (which is not the same as neutrality) strengthens the film’s accounting of the consequences, both strategic and moral.



Jack Clooney, a longtime F.B.I. interrogator, argues that kindness can be a more effective way to manipulate a prisoner and gain information than cruelty, while young men who worked at Bagram and Abu Ghraib testify to the atmosphere of sadism in those places. Their matter-of-fact tone provides, in some ways, the most powerful support for Mr. Gibney’s view of the corrosive effects of torture on American traditions of decency and the rule of law.



His film is long, detailed and not always easy to watch. Plenty of moviegoers would happily pay not to think about the issues raised in “Taxi to the Dark Side.” But sooner or later we will need to understand what has happened in this country in the last seven years, and this documentary will be essential to that effort.



“Taxi to the Dark Side” is rated R (Under 17 requires accompanying parent or adult guardian) for disturbing images and content involving torture and graphic nudity.


TAXI TO THE DARK SIDE


Opens on Friday in New York and Los Angeles.

Written, directed and narrated by Alex Gibney; directors of photography, Maryse Alberti and Greg Andracke; edited by Sloane Klevin; music by Ivor Guest and Robert Logan; produced by Mr. Gibney, Eva Orner and Susannah Shipman; released by ThinkFilm. Running time: 1 hour 46 minutes.

Day.Of.The.Dead(2008)XviD

Genre: Horror / Thriller
Plot: Nick Cannon, Mena Suvari and Ving Rhames star in this horror film based on the George A. Romero classic zombie film. A mysterious virus has infected the small town of Leadville, Colorado and the military is brought in to enforce a quarantine and stop the spread of the disease. As people perish, survivors realize that the virus is creating the walking dead who crave human flesh. Only a small number of people are immune to the virus and those few survivors must battle to fend off the infected zombies while trying to make it out of town alive.

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10,000 BC (2008)

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21(2008)

21 (also referred to in advertising as "21: The Movie") is a 2008 drama film from Columbia Pictures. It stars Jim Sturgess, Kevin Spacey, Kate Bosworth, and Laurence Fishburne. The film is based loosely around the story of a 1990s incarnation of the MIT Blackjack Team.

Plot

Ben Campbell (Jim Sturgess) is an MIT student who – needing to pay school tuition – finds answers in counting cards. In his non-linear equations class, he amazes his professor, Mickey Rosa, by correctly understanding variable change and correctly solving the Monty Hall Problem. As a superior math and statistics student, he is recruited to join a group of mathematically-gifted students that heads to Las Vegas every weekend with fake identities and the know-how to turn the odds at blackjack in their favor. Unorthodox math professor Mickey Rosa (Kevin Spacey) leads the way. By counting cards and employing an intricate system of signs and signals, the team can beat the casinos. Drawn by the money, the Vegas lifestyle, and his teammate, Jill Taylor (Kate Bosworth), Ben begins to push the limits. Though counting cards isn’t illegal, the stakes are high, and the challenge becomes not only keeping the numbers straight, but staying one step ahead of the casinos' menacing enforcer, Cole Williams (Laurence Fishburne).

Cast

* Jim Sturgess as Ben Campbell, the protagonist, an MIT student incredibly good with numbers but in need of money, who becomes a member of the blackjack team. Based on Jeff Ma.[1]
* Kevin Spacey as Mickey Rosa, math professor and the founder of the blackjack team. Based on a composite of J.P. Massar and Johnny Chang[2]
* Kate Bosworth as Jill Taylor, a member of the blackjack team. Based on Jane Willis.
* Laurence Fishburne as Cole William, a casino security agent who becomes determined to take down the team. Based on employees of Griffin Investigations[3]
* Aaron Yoo as Choi, a member of the blackjack team.
* Liza Lapira as Kianna, another blackjack team member
* Josh Gad as Miles Connoly
* Jacob Pitts as Fisher, another blackjack team member. Based on Mike Aponte
* Jack McGee as Terry
* Roger Dillingham, Jr. as Head Bouncer

Factual inaccuracies

* Many details related to the nature of profitable team blackjack play were simplified or incorrect. Among these: Spotters would not keep playing once the Big Player arrives - doing so wastes the good cards. The Big Player wouldn't need somebody else to tell him when "the deck has gone cold"; the count tells him that. A spotter who only makes table-minimum bets wouldn't get comped to a suite. Skilled players can have losing streaks even when playing well and according to a system.

* Even high-stakes card counters get peacefully asked to leave rather than beaten in a back room when casino security first approaches them. Since counting cards is legal, players who are beaten up or robbed have recourse to seek legal redress so in reality Laurence Fishbourne's character would quite likely have been arrested and/or sued for his actions.

* Many details related to casino game protection mechanisms were simplified or incorrect. "Biometric software" seems to have stood in for a wide array of new technologies that are changing the nature of game protection but there is still the need for human evaluation of play at the tables.

Differences between the movie and the real life story

Although the movie is loosely based on a book which is loosely based on the real-life exploits of the MIT Team, little effort was made to be historically accurate. The film adds many plot points for dramatic affect, chararacters are based on composites and boring real-world details are simplified. Many casino locations shown in the film (including the Hard Rock Casino, the Bellagio fountains, and the Wynn) did not exist during the time portrayed, and no MIT professor was ever on the team.

My Opinion
The Movie was great, ive seen the History channel Doc, On the real life guys which i found was cool to
so check that out if you liked this movie. O and i ran the CAM threw Enhance Movie 2.2 again so it would
be better quality. Im going to do this with all CAM releases i post from now on...
ENjoy!

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SUPERHERO MOVIE (2008)

Who's in It: Drake Bell, Sara Paxton, Christopher McDonald, Leslie Nielsen, Kevin Hart, Marion Ross, Brent Spiner, Jeffrey Tambor, Robert Hays, Tracy Morgan, Regina Hall, Craig Bierko, Pamela Anderson
The Basics: I've grown to despise the word "spoof." All it means now is someone doing a Johnny Depp-as-pirate impersonation or making fun of Tom Cruise jumping on a couch. In this movie, it means sending up straightforward superhero movies with tired jokes. It also means more Cruise gags. And some farting. OK, lots of farting.

What's the Deal? It no longer matters that the guys behind this have a somewhat classier pedigree (Scary Movie) and aren't the same culture criminals that belched forth Meet the Spartans, Epic Movie and Date Movie. The template is nearly the same and the jokes are just as weak, if slightly less insultingly stupid.

Go If You Like: People being bonked on the head. That's pretty much the bulk of the comedy here. In fact, nearly every scene features someone being injured, which is — see credits above — a minor comedic step-up from the Meet the Spartans approach of "Hey look, it's that guy from Borat!"

Don't Go If You Like: Anderson. She's got about one minute of screen time. And she's the Invisible Woman.

Who's Kind of Funny: Tambor as a crazy doctor.

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STOP-LOSS (2008)

Who's in It: Ryan Phillippe, Channing Tatum, Joseph Gordon-Levitt, Rob Brown, Abbie Cornish, Alex Frost
The Basics: Purple Heart recipient Phillippe (that's what they give you when you're married to Reese Witherspoon for any length of time — OK, kidding) is redeployed for a third tour of duty to Iraq. He decides that this is not for him and goes AWOL, demanding an answer — much like the movie does — to the question of why the war goes on and on, decimating the lives of everyone it touches.

What's the Deal? Even if you haven't seen any of the recent Iraq War-themed films (and you probably haven't because they've all earned a collective 35 bucks at the box office), and even if you never saw Coming Home or The Deer Hunter, you sort of already know what's going to happen. These guys are going to be really, really messed up, and no one's going to be able or willing to help them. It's a plotline that's ingrained in the culture just by sheer repetition: That war stays hell even after the war is over. But of all the recent fictional films about Iraq, this one's the best of the bunch.

What Kimberly Peirce Is Really Good At: As a Texan, I can tell you that she knows middle America well enough to critique its politics and its prejudices without making everyone there look like someone from a sketch on Blue Collar TV. She does it all without being judgmental or phony or condescending, which is something Hollywood almost never gets right.

Underpants Cinema: I guess it's a concession to its target audience, but I thought it was kind of strange how when the soldier boys all have their various existential crises, they manage to be in wet T-shirts or look like an ad for Calvin Klein briefs.

How You'll Know It's More Humanistic Than Political: No matter what your politics are, you'll leave thinking the movie let the other side off too easy.

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PRICELESS (2008)

Who's in It: Audrey Tautou, Gad Elmaleh
The Basics: Two gold-diggers find sex and then, of course, love with each other after coming to the end of their careers as professional suitors of rich old guys and their cougar counterparts. That you can figure this out after about 10 minutes won't lessen your enjoyment of the scenes where they indulge in luxury goods and resort surroundings. It's like they made a whole movie out of the Pretty Woman shopping montages.

What's the Deal? There are "French films" and then there the ones that happen to be in French. I finally understand that concept after voluntarily paying 14 dollars extra a month to Time Warner Cable for the French movie channel, where they ditch the Godard and air stuff like this crowd-pleaser instead — where people are being wacky and beautiful and lounging on chaises or else pulling off explosion-filled heists.

For Fans Of: Chanel and the thrill of watching people try on that label's shoes, copious amounts of amoral whoring, the interiors of fancy hotels on the French Riviera, that part in Amélie where Tautou rides around happily on a scooter, lame French hip-hop on film soundtracks, French people pronouncing the word champagne in the way you always thought was an exaggerated cliché but, in fact, turns out to be the way they really say it.

Where You've Seen the Main Guy Before, Provided You Even Keep Up With French Movies: Elmaleh was most recently the star of the romantic comedy The Valet.

One Concern: Tautou has a major sternum situation happening. I don't like to write negative things about women's bodies, usually, but you see her being very skinny and bony in low-cut dresses a lot, and it never gets comfortable to look at.

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MY BROTHER IS AN ONLY CHILD (2008)

Who's in It: Elio Germano, Riccardo Scamarcio
The Basics: Two Italian brothers in the late 1960s/early 1970s come of age and find themselves in personal, sexual and political rivalry with each other. One is a free-love communist and the other is a fascist hooligan. They fight a lot. Sounds heavy, but it's not, because it leans more toward small, personal, humorous moments than big, sweeping, dramatic declarations or weepy nostalgia.

What's the Deal? Obviously, it would help if you had a clue about Italy's fascist past and the Marxist youth rebellion of that time period, but it's not absolutely necessary. It's not so much about that stuff (and the highlights are explained pretty well) as it is about how two very different brothers come to love and care for each other.

Pedigree: Written by Sandro Petraglia and Stefano Rulli, the guys who wrote the amazing (and weirdly successful with U.S.-foreign-film audiences, considering that it was a six-hour TV miniseries released here theatrically) The Best of Youth.

Funniest Part: A communist orchestra and chorus performs Beethoven's "Ode to Joy" with reworked, pro-Mao text and Bob Dylan-like flash cards to get its godless point across. It really doesn't add much to the plot, but it's still part of the movie's tone of gentle mockery toward extreme politics.

You Don't Know Him Now but You Will: Germano, as the younger, hard-headed fascist brother who experiences the most personal change, pretty much walks away with the whole movie.

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FLAWLESS (2007)

Who's in It: Michael Caine, Demi Moore
The Basics: Caine recruits a disgruntled diamond-industry executive (Moore) to steal a fortune in rocks. And because it's set in London in the 1960s, the audience is invited to confuse cool period sets and costumes with "good old-fashioned heist action."

What's the Deal? This could have been a really cool woman-gets-revenge-on-the-Old Boy Network crime movie, but it never learns to enjoy itself and, worse, it bores in the process. It's sort of like Mad Money that way. But even that had Diane Keaton, who seemed to be enjoying herself. Anyway, if you want to see a vintage-looking British crime flick that's actually enjoyable, then check out The Bank Job instead.

Name Demi's Accent: Remember how Audrey Hepburn's sounded like it was from everywhere and nowhere at once? Maybe Europe? Maybe a fancy pocket of America? That seems to be Moore's approach to speaking here. She says words like "chahhnce" a lot. Meanwhile, other characters remind you she's supposed to be American (their voices and that information always looped in, off camera). At least she sounds better than Kevin Costner in Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves.

Pedigree: From hacky director Michael Radford, who made the inexplicably popular Il Postino. That he also made the wacky stripper movie Dancing at the Blue Iguana sort of saves his rep for me. (I recommend it, not least for the scene where pole-dancer Jennifer Tilly screams about how her baby is going to grow up to be an elementary-school drug dealer.)

If Wigs and Shoes Were a Performance: Then Moore would be an Oscar nominee. Her hair doesn't reach the monumental heights it did in Bobby, which is probably one of the most impressive wig movies of all time, but she makes up for it by clip-clopping around in really high heels that the camera can't stop focusing on for some reason.

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CHAPTER 27 (2008)

Who's in It: Jared Leto, Lindsay Lohan, Judah Friedlander
The Basics: This is the one where Leto gained 60 pounds to play Mark David Chapman, the crazy guy who killed John Lennon because he thought Catcher in the Rye told him to. But now that you know how it ends, there's not a ton of suspense left besides finding out what Leto looks like chubby and shirtless (answer: like a greasy Pillsbury Doughboy).

What's the Deal? This isn't as awful as it's going to be received. But it does have one big glaring thing wrong with it, and that's that there's nothing going on here except watching Leto try to become a method actor. I can kind of sympathize with the guy's clear rebellion against being typecast, when what he's most known for is being a teen heartthrob on a long-cancelled '90s TV drama. It all feels like a bid to be the male Charlize Theron in Monster.

One Thing I'd Honestly Never Thought About Before Watching This, Mostly Because I Don't Spend a Lot of Time Obsessively Connecting the Dots: That Lennon lived in the Dakota, where they shot Rosemary's Baby, which was directed by Roman Polanski, whose wife Sharon Tate was murdered by Charles Manson, who was inspired to do so by a Beatles song. This coincidence — mentioned by Leto in the movie — actually has nothing to do with the quality of the film itself. But I got bored enough to find it somewhat fascinating to think about for a bit.

What Are Lohan and 30 Rock's Friedlander and a British Character Actor Named Mark Lindsay Chapman Doing in This? Not much. She plays a Beatles superfan named Jude. She quotes lyrics (and gets freaked out by Leto). He plays a paparazzo. The strangely named Chapman plays, yes, Lennon. But that's about it. It's Leto's show.

What the Title Means: Chapman believed that killing Lennon would be a way to write a 27th chapter to the 26-chapter-long Catcher.

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21 (2008)

Who's in It: Jim Sturgess, Kevin Spacey, Kate Bosworth, Laurence Fishburne
The Basics: The answer to the question, "When will someone get the big idea to remake Ocean's Eleven, but with cards like in Lucky You, but also with really young hot people, but also really lame and boring?" The plot: MIT kids, who should all really be modeling somewhere, learn how to beat Vegas at its own game, thanks to a wily old professor/card shark (Spacey).

What's the Deal? When I'm watching a movie about a heist or a big scam of some kind, my favorite part is knowing the mechanics of that crime. I want to see it all ticking like clockwork. And then I want my criminals to be charming and funny so I can get with their misdeeds in good conscience. So this, of course, goes out of its way to be not particularly smart, even though it's about really smart people, and to sacrifice caper for interpersonal relationships. "Ooh, my girlfriend thinks I'm consumed with ambition. Oh, my moral dilemmas." Yawn.

Who's Good: Spacey. Just like in Fred Claus and every other not-great film he tries to save, Spacey is one of the movies' best mean jerks. So even though this film is beneath his abilities (and yet he's also the executive producer, so he shares part of the blame all the same), he's fun to watch be unscrupulous.

What's Extra Dull: People playing cards. It seems that barely anyone can make this activity fun to look at. The latest version of Casino Royale was pretty cool. Even The Sting made it seem like kind of a blast. But here it's like watching mold grow on cheese.

Like Better Luck Tomorrow, But White: In real life (because this is loooooooooosely based on a real story), all the kids were Asian. But Hollywood has this affirmative-action policy for white people, see, just to give them a sorely needed leg up, and so this version is just more, you know, balanced.


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Wild Hogs

They say you shouldn’t take any notice of what people say – unless, of course, they are referring to either the latest Tim Allen movie; or the latest John Travolta blunder, or the latest Martin Lawrence debacle. Then, you should take notice of what they say. They’re probably right – and they could be saving you not only money, but also giving you back an hour-and-a-half of your life.

Those same people will be stuck for words when they hear that it’s the three of them – yep, The Santa Clause; Danny Zuko and Big Momma– sharing the screen this time. Well, that’s almost an unexplainable, undreamt of occurrence – right? Surely, the trade ad’s got it wrong?

All one can to say that has encountered such a trite triple act is… bring the Kleenex; this is so sad, you’ll be in tears till Wild Hogs hits DVD.

And not in a good way.

Admittedly, Travolta; Allen and Lawrence have all had their share of hits – Travolta with Grease, Saturday Night Fever and Pulp Fiction; Allen with The Santa Clause films, and Lawrence with Bad Boys and its sequel – but in latter years, they’re the emblem of washed-up desperate has-beens. Everything they touch… turns to shit. It’s a pity. They all have their merits. But Wild Hogs smells of nothing more than three men joining forces in a singular attempt to resurrect all of their careers. And, what better way to do it than in a family-friendly Disney comedy, hey? They go well, right? They’re usually OK, too…

Whilst the verdict’s not yet out on how well this’ll do (box office suggests it may just make enough money for Disney to pay the Hell’s Angels after they sued them for using their name in an earlier draft of the script), the pronouncement is in on just how OK this is… and the answer resembles a see-saw in need of oiling. In other words, it’s very wonky.

Travolta, Allen, Lawrence and Macy (he’s the guy that needs this the least) play four middle-aged losers – all screaming for a bit of excitement in their lives – that decide to hit the open highway for a break. The ‘Wild Hogs’ (as the patchwork on their jackets declare them) don’t get too far though, when they encounter a rowdy gang of ‘real’ bikers (led by Ray Liotta), and ultimately, inadvertently burn down their bar.

You can pretty much guess the rest – Wild Hogs seek solace in nearby small town, where they make a couple of new friends, but their peaceful stop-over is interrupted by their old friends, seeking vengeance for the bar – right?

The problem with the film isn’t so much the actors – they, in fact, make it worthwhile; and from what I hear, worked from an unworkable script – but the very Vanilla script. It’s a bit of a mess. Ya see, this is supposed to be a ‘road’ movie, but yet the guys seem to be only on their bikes, riding down the desert highway, for about 15 mins of the film – before they permanently stop off, for the rest of the movie, at the one locale. One can’t help but think if the script actually took the guys ‘somewhere’ – rather than the one little diner in the one little town – it might have actually been a little more endurable. In its current form, Disney really should ask writer Brad Copeland for their cheque back.

But yes, the actors do deserve a slap across the cheeks for even pretending we’d want to see them in something like this. If anything, all three (four; including Macy) should’ve had their respective agents send this script back to Disney marked ‘unread’. I mean, the fact that the guy who directed Van Wilder and Buying the Cow, Walt Becker, was attached to direct this . . .should’ve been enough to put them off from the moment it was Fed-Ex’d over to their agencies.

Travolta, Allen and Lawrence are three actors screaming for credibility right now… and this won’t give it to them. Travolta needs a hit like there’s no tomorrow – dude, fire your agent; maybe get back in with Jonathan Krane – Allen’s been exposed as the one-trick wonder he is (he may wear different outfits in movies; be it a Santa suit or a dog suit, but here’s still doing the same ol’ “ho, ho, hooo” shtick), and Lawrence? Well, there’s a reason they pay Chris Tucker $25 million a movie - and it’s because they know whose next in line to grab the role if Tucker passes. Together, they’re like the Three Desperate Stooges.

But Wild Hogs isn’t all bad… in fact, for about 16 mins there… I thought it might’ve turned out OK. Maybe that’s because there were 16 pages of script… and the rest was just made up as they went along? (According to the grapevine, that’s reportedly the case).

These Wild Hogs are cooked beyond consumption.


Wild Hogs
Australian release: 8th March, 2007
Cast: John Travolta, Tim Allen, Martin Lawrence, William H. Macy, Tichina Arnold
Director: Walt Becker, Jack Gill

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One Two Three

Director: Ashwini Dheer
Cast: Suniel Shetty, Tusshar Kapoor, Paresh Rawal, Sameera Reddy
Rating:*.5


Comedy has become a compromise in cinema. Noise, nonsense and no-brainer pass off as humour. Wit is on a vacation and slapstick is here to stay.

The plot of One Two Three is devised on the archaic idea of mistaken identities to conjure up a comedy of errors. While David Dhawan and Priyadarshan have partially applied this formula in their films, director Ashwini Dheer excogitates his entire movie on this convention. ‘What’s in a name’ said William Shakespeare. Were the bard alive today, he would have only apologized for coining a phrase that instigated Bollywood to make a frenzied film hell-bent to prove the idiom wrong. One Two Three has three persons by the same name who land up at the same hotel to induce you the same trauma of watching the same slapstick story again.

Tusshar Kapoor as Lamxinarayan 1 plays a wannabe don which is as much analogous to his real-life character of a struggling actor. Despite repeated attempts he fails to make it big in the mafia (or movie-dom). He’s on his last chance to redeem himself in the underworld with a contract killing. As he is the only eligible bachelor (i.e. amongst the cast of the film), the director makes him indulge in an affair with a Madrasi Miss (Esha Deol) who designs underwear. The girl justifies their chemistry quoting, “I design underwear because I was always fascinated with the underworld”. Oh so underwhelming!

Suniel Shetty arrives as Laxminarayan 2 with all his dialogues designed to end with an interrogation mark, something more grueling than the constabulary grilling. His boss abuses him with the choicest of ‘familiar’ profanities for his annoying and irrelevant left-right-left questioning sessions. Perhaps that’s the only realistic scene of the film as the audience can completely relate with his boss’ sentiments.

Paresh Rawal sums up for Laxminarayan 3 who proudly proclaims to read the innermost feelings... oops fittings of every woman in the town. He is a lingerie hawker with an eagle-eye which can ‘figure out’ every female measurement to perfection. And the Delhi aunties only take pride in getting evaluated by his x-ray vision. Its persuasion and not perversion, they believe. ‘Bra’vo!

The film also employs the customary conspiracy of hidden diamonds, which has become mandatory to almost all comedy films of today. The diamond worth crores lands in the hands of a couple (Upen Patel – Tanisha) who work as salesperson in a car showroom. Even the antique cars in their showroom show more screen presence than this plastic pair. The diamond gives way for the conventional car chases, chaos and confusion in the climax, so reminiscent of Priyadarshan film finales.

Want to sample some more caricature characters? There are plenty. There is a mafia kingpin called... no not Godfather... but Papa (Mukesh Tiwari) who pluralizes every English word in his speech adding an s to it. But his gags don’t evoke laughter even singularly. He has two henchmen named ‘Albert’ and ‘Pinto’. By now the director shouldn’t ask audience ko gussa kyun aata hain . How one wishes the writer had paid more attention in sketching a more eventful screenplay than concentrating on creating rhymes in Manoj Pahwa’s dialogues. As compensation, they should have at-least not edited out Sameera Reddy’s lingerie long-shot. Bikini’s the best she can display. And it’s anytime better than Paresh Rawal’s petrified look in the same shot.

Suniel Shetty underplays his character to such an extent that even the regularly repetitive Rawal’s act comes across as much relief (but only) in comparison. Tusshar Kapoor should take tips from colleague Uday Chopra and gift himself (and the audiences) voluntary retirement from acting. Esha Deol perfectly compliments her onscreen costar (Tusshar Kapoor) but in his off-screen infamy repute. Since Sameera can’t get into the skin of character, she should stick to displaying the skin of her character. Upen Patel and Tanishaa should join the art department as the best they qualify is as decorative artifacts. Surprisingly from the entire cast, its side-comedian Sanjay Mishra who induces the leftover laughs by imitating yesteryear villain Jeevan in this lame attempt at comedy.

One Two Three doesn’t let you scot-free. You have to pay the price of losing your sanity. If comedies continue to be the same, we might soon lose our sense of humour too.

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Race: Movie Review

Director: Abbas-Mustan
Cast: Saif Ali Khan, Akshaye Khanna, Bipasha Basu, Katrina Kaif, Anil Kapoor
Rating: **

Rather than ‘who-dun-it’, Abbas-Mustan mysteries are in the genre of ‘why-done-it’. The culprit is open to the audience since the outset, but his intentions aren’t unveiled. Race too trails a mandatory murder case fulfilling the standard Abbas-Mustan thriller template. Alas the director duo tries to be smart but not intelligent.

The needless narration at the very onset talks of the weak and conventional characterizations that don’t talk of themselves but need a speaker for specifications. Post the prologue, the film follows the Abbas-Mustan formula of obligatory introductions, regular romance and transition tracks for the first 20 minutes. Their thrillers don’t come with the ‘Do not miss the beginning’ tags. In fact one wishes to skip the stale start!

The race is between two step-brothers and the plot is still devised on the undying life-insurance money maneuver. One brother’s murder is other brother’s moolah. And each one is set to outdo the other. But in this race, the makers attempt to overtake your sensibilities. Check this out - in knocking off the elder brother (Saif), the younger (Akshaye) goes out of his way to manipulate a marriage with a con-girl (Bipasha), just so that he could use his spouse to push big brother off a high-rise. Seems like Abbas-Mustan haven’t upgraded themselves ever since Baazigar days where SRK indulged in a similar act. And you don’t have to be an Ekta Kapoor soap consumer to estimate that if one of the main leads is eliminated by the interval, he will come back from the dead in the climax.

Subsequently the film resorts to the trademark tricks to induce thrills. But for someone fed (or fed up) on a staple diet of Abbas-Mustan suspense dramas, it isn’t much difficult to predict at what instance will the director-duo double cross. The perceptive viewer races ahead of the director’s shock-treatment tactics and isn’t duped. After all, the scheme of one-upmanship between two male rivals has been already exploited by the directors to the point of diminishing returns in Ajnabee, Humraaz and Naqaab.

There’s also a Karamchand kinda investigating officer (Anil Kapoor) who substitutes the detective’s carrot by chomping fruitlessly to glory. This Karamchand also has Kitty (Sameera Reddy) for company who isn’t just silly and naïve but also stupid and irritating. En route their investigation, the officer also flirts with his simpleton secretary on Cape Town beaches as the film takes a preposterous excuse to exhibit bikinis.

Also the makers should understand that while shoving songs in the screenplay to induce some lighter moments, there has to be some tense instances in the thriller at the first place. Alas this one doesn’t take you to the edge-of-the-seat in anticipation but only makes you fall-off-the-chair with easy assumptions. Furthermore the directors take the title of the film a bit too seriously, adding a literal car chase in the climax which suffices for the formulaic action ending.

Technically, the action is outdated and camerawork inconsistent. However, the director-duo is smart enough to commercially camouflage the loopholes in the plot with a racy and rapacious end.

The performances are more cool than competent. Saif exudes a calm composure but this stubbly look is too ‘on-the-face’. Akshaye’s restricted to his traditional tweaking facial expressions. Bipasha Basu and Katrina Kaif are eye-candy. Anil Kapoor is over-the-top. Sameera Reddy is avidly avoidable.

How one wishes director brothers Abbas Mustan had shown more innovation and integrity in their attempts at dividing the step-brothers.

Race is reasonable enough to win a ‘not bad’ stamp. But isn’t imaginative enough to gain a ‘good’ tag.

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