It's 3:07 am on Friday, July 18th, and I have to wake up for work in four hours. But it's worth it. Christopher Nolan's The Dark Knight packed six screens at the nearby theater; the line to get in, two hours ahead of time, spiraled down two flights of stairs and out the door. But it was worth the wait.

Batman Begins was already highly regarded as one of the best, if not the best, superhero adaptation, but Nolan has made that film look like nothing more than a setup for the chaos that rains down in this complex, gritty and twisted film. No character is safe and anything can happen as the Joker - and eventually Harvey Two-Face - embrace Gotham. Batman, a.k.a. Bruce Wayne, has helped reduce crime, but where he has squeezed, the criminal element is reacting accordingly. Whereas Batman is order, the Joker is chaos, and that is what is at play in The Dark Knight.

As my tired fingers tap against my keyboard, I must make note that to truly appreciate The Dark Knight, it may take a day or two for it to soak in, or even multiple viewings. I have my grievances, though I suspect many of those slight hiccups are a result of too much hype and anticipation. Such minor flaws will gloss over in time, and I will come to realize The Dark Knight for what it is - Hell, I pretty much already realize it - that this movie is as close to a masterpiece as comic book adaptations can come.

Well-written, superbly directed and, of course, brilliantly acted, The Dark Knight is the crowning achievement of comic book films. It's hardly fair to compare it to Spider-Man 2, which relishes in mutated heroes and villains, or even X-Men 2, which has dozens of the like. Those are both great films, and there are people who will like them more because they are pure entertainment and blockbuster action flicks. I still love them, but The Dark Knight takes one of the most popular superheroes in history to an entirely different level. Nolan's version of Gotham is shockingly realistic. Other than a guy who flies around in a bat suit and a psychopath who can destroy a city, the Nolans (Christopher with brother Jonathan) have created a gritty, believable crime thriller complete with a sustainable plot, riveting characters and plenty of action. The Dark Knight has it all.

Before I get to the good stuff, let me point out the few annoyances I have. I don't like the cell phone sonar system - it was a little too James Bond-ish for this kind of film. Christian Bale, while still great, didn't blow me away as much this round; I didn't like his gravely Batman voice. While Two-Face isn't relegated to the very end of the movie, I was hoping to see even more. And why does Nolan even include the Scarecrow at all? There are a few other things, but my tired mind has started to wander.

To get it out of the way, Heath Ledger makes this film. His rendition of the Joker is disturbing, psychotic and downright creepy. This is one of the rare roles where the actor, as he really is, cannot be recognized. If he hadn't died, would an Oscar nomination even be considered? Perhaps not, just because of the type of film he has chosen to deliver his crowning achievement. But he is gone, and it is almost assured that Ledger will get a nomination. Ledger is absolutely incredible.

Aaron Eckhart, as Harvey Dent/Two-Face, is also surprisingly good. The marketing team kept his character - or at least his eventual self - under tight wraps, and the anticipation pays off. The makeup job is incredible; nothing like the horrible Tommy Lee Jones pink-face from the late 90's. His performance is sound, though it would have been great to give him an entire movie on his own. After all, how is Nolan going to follow up The Dark Knight with something better? I really don't see how a sequel could be better than this.

The movie is two-and-a-half hours long, but it doesn't feel like it. It moves at a fast pace and the Nolans have plenty of plot to play with. The movie starts off good, but gets great in the middle section - I literally was grinning through much of it - and ends pretty solidly. I wouldn't say it's perfect, but it's near perfect, and again, a couple more viewings of this picture may convince me that the film is flawless. Either way, The Dark Knight is jaw-dropping.

Review by Robert Bell (B)

Staying true to her singular feminist roots and psychosexual explorations of the inherent imbalances between men and women, but stepping away from prosthetic penises, fun with menstrual blood and brutal parallels of symbolic emotional rape, Catherine Breillat has assembled her most accessible art house film to date.  It's a slightly perverse, subtext-laden and stuffy Masterpiece theatre style entry with soft-core porn lighting and surprisingly glib insights on female sexuality in relation to religious constructs of male supremacy.  Breillat's feat here is mainly that of transferring Jules-Amédée Barbey d'Aurevilly's invariably male-centric novel of the same name and spicing it up with some sly feminist critique. 

The Last Mistress tells the story of 30-year-old libertine Ryno De Marigny (Fu'ad Ait Aattou) in 1830's France where he is set to marry a bleached-blonde and pubis-shaven chaste aristocrat named Hermangarde (Breillat regular Roxane Mesquida).  Being known for his 10-year affair with an Andalusian courtesan called Vellini (Asia Argento), Ryno is eyed warily by those surrounding Hermangarde, which leads him to professing his story to her grandmother, la Marquise de Flers (Claude Sarraute). 

The majority of the film is told through this flashback, as Ryno's initial dislike for the homely (according to the text) Vellini, turns to arousal, pursuance and conquest.

As the pair go from unknowns, to lovers, to parents and back around they continue with cat-and-mouse games that lead into the present when Vellini learns of Ryno's marriage to the virtuous Hermangarde.  In true form, Vellini shows up from afar to tempt her long-time lover with her ardent sexuality and knowing gaze.

Breillat's preoccupation with the profane is still apparent in Mistress, with chicken slaughter, wound licking, kooky sexual positions and some erotic asphyxia next to the burning corpse of a 3-year-old, but is considerably more palatable in relation to the narrative than much of her previous work.  Perversion is often used to symbolize demonized female sexuality as well as the virulent nature of cannibalistic French socialites throughout the film and is recognizable as such. 

A great deal of the films strength lies in the connection and intensity of the performances from both Aattou and Argento.  While Aattou radiates a naïve charm and relatively lucid idealism, Argento purrs with intimidating sexuality, which stems from her husky voice and penetrating gaze.  They are able to play off of each other's strengths with ease as Vellini clearly dominates the milquetoast Ryno both intellectually and sexually.  Their passion is convincing, leading to a greater believability in Ryno's struggle to remain faithful to his comely bride whom he quickly loses interest in. 

The implication that men are simplistic creatures driven by sexual impulse and entitlement, while women must use hard-earned wit and manipulation to obtain power, is nothing particularly new or insightful.  It is, however, an interesting take on some fairly familiar and somewhat bland material.

Review by Robert Bell (B)

As a straightforward and guileless adaptation of the hit musical, Mamma Mia! mostly succeeds, despite the fact that it is essentially two-hours of celebrity ABBA karaoke with only a little vocal talent.  Agnetha, Björn, Benny and Anni-Frid's layered harmonies and catchy hooks lend themselves well to the popular musical format, adding some accessibility to a less euphoniously discerning crowd than perhaps a Sondheim musical might, with its angular harmonies and polyphony.  Understandably, this aggressively fluffy pop music is juxtaposed with an equally exuberant and almost psychotically optimistic plot about following one's heart and knowing that love is love regardless of DNA and external genitalia. 

With her impending nuptials, 20-year-old Sophie (Amanda Seyfried, Bill's oldest, anti-polygamist daughter on Big Love) is desperate to find her real father, whose identity has been kept hidden by her mother Donna (Meryl Streep).  After uncovering her mother's diary, Sophie quickly finds out the reason that her mother has been so secretive about her patriarchal roots.  It seems that back in the day, Donna got pelvic with three different men in a very short period of time, which means that the father could be Sam (Pierce Brosnan), Bill (Stellan Skarsgard), or Harry (Colin Firth). 

In an effort to solve the mystery, Sophie invites all three men to her wedding, much to the surprise of her mother, and her mother's lifelong girlfriends (Julie Walters & Christine Baranski). 

As surely as cynics will scoff at unrealistic character reactions, occasionally crappy singing and frequently sloppy transitions between songs, ABBA loving optimists will be tapping their toes along to each musical number and delighting in the sheer, undeniable whimsy and spirit.  Director Phillida Lloyd has opted for an edited, musical montage approach rather than the choreographed soundstage approach of other recent musicals like Enchanted and Hairspray.  The result is decent, engaging and occasionally beautiful, even if there are occasional moments similar to early 90's music-video's where ingénue's wear overly emotional expressions on their faces while singing at the camera. 

The biggest question that a lot of people will invariably ask about Mamma Mia! is if the actors can sing.  The answer is both yes and no.  Amanda Seyfried is impressive all around, proving herself as a bankable star, which is especially significant considering that she is standing next to the multi-talented Meryl Streep, who herself can sing quite well.  On the other hand, Pierce Brosnan sounds like a dying goat whenever he opens his mouth and Stellan Skarsgard sings a bit like a kid who licks glass and eats three lunches a day. 

Quite simply, Mamma Mia! is a reasonably well made - if somewhat touristy and compact - film that will please fans of the genre and annoy those who dislike pop and/or musicals; plus, Meryl Streep plays air guitar and dresses up in a glittery jumpsuit.

In 2004, then-relative unknown director Guillermo Del Toro adapted the challenging comic book "Hellboy" into a mildly successful and extremely entertaining movie about a tough, red demon with a stone hand who likes cigar and kittens, is in love with a firestarter who looks a hell of a lot like Selma Blair and who protects humanity from monsters, immortal Nazis and so on and so forth. Hellboy is not the kind of character that one would think audiences could relate to, but relate they did, mainly with the help of Ron Perlman's performance. Hellboy II: The Golden Army picks up where the first one left off... sort of.

Hellboy II brings back Perlman, Blair and other members of the cast, and most importantly Del Toro, who has since proved his worth with the excellent and ultimately denied Pan's Labyrinth. With Del Toro's newfound imagination for the weird, Hellish creatures from Labyrinth, Hellboy II had the makings of being an incredible and improved sequel.

That is not the case.

Hellboy II: The Golden Army is entertaining, pretty funny and has some good action scenes, but something is amiss, not quite right, a little off, a tad different. While a continuation in story, the movie feels more like a reboot with a different writer, different actors and different visuals, which is odd since the writer, director and actors are all the same. The improvements are not for the better. Hellboy himself seems more subdued, more lovely dubby, less sarcastic and less intimidating, and that's not a good thing. He walks around love stricken for most of the movie and hesitates when he must kill nasty creatures. The relationship between Blair and Hellboy is bitter at best; Del Toro skipped over the good times and went straight to the downhill part. We never got to see them as a loving couple, and thus we can't relate when they're somewhat beyond that. The chemistry between Blair and Perlman seems to have fizzled. Abe Sapien, too, is different, his character less odd and less intriguing. A romance that sparks between him and and an underworld princess is more distracting than anything else.

There's just something off about the movie, and the blame must fall on Del Toro. He tried to turn his action-comedy premise into a fantasy-action-comedy, and the result is inconsistent at best. Hellboy's foray into a troll market, which is like an extreme, monster-filled version of Harry Potter's Diagon Alley, is interesting but surprisingly too magical for Hellboy, at least based on my limited knowledge of the character from the first movie. The encounter with his personal "death" and the decision Blair's character must face is interesting as well and truly imaginative, but also seems out of place in a movie like Hellboy II.

Going into Hellboy II, I was looking forward to an amalgam of Hellboy and Pan's Labyrinth, but in hindsight, I just wanted Hellboy. I wanted the tough, sarcastic character to kick some ass and take on a truly intimidating villain, and that just didn't happen, at least not entirely. Again, Hellboy II is entertaining, but it shifts from comedy (including a singing sequence between Hellboy and Abe) to action to drama, but doesn't properly combine the three. Furthermore, the main villain, Prince Nuada (Luke Goss) isn't nearly as intimidating as I was expecting. Though he wants to kill all of humanity, he isn't nearly as scary or dark as he needed to be. Compared to the ruthless villain of the first film, he is nothing.

All that being said, Hellboy II does generate a fair amount of laughs, and there are some very well done action sequences. When Del Toro does dive into action, the movie picks up tremendously; the last half hour are especially good. It's not a bad movie, and in many ways is still quite good, but it still feels more like Spider-Man 3 than Spider-Man 2. Del Toro needed to cut 20-30 minutes out of its running time, the almost-romance between Sapien and the princess and some of the more fantastical elements and focus on the film's strengths.

Hellboy II: The Golden Army is entertaining, but lacks the cohesive chemistry the first film maintained. This sequel does not live up to its potential.

One of the best reviewed movies of the year is, no surprise, Pixar's Wall-E, a movie that has been buzzing since the first, dialogue-free teaser trailer hit theaters a summer ago with Pixar's last masterpiece, Ratatouille. As good as Ratatouille was, it feels like an appetizer compared to Wall-E, which is as close to a masterpiece as movies can be. It fires on all cylinders and rarely, if ever, misfires.

Wall-E continues the near-perfect streak of the company-not-to-be-outdone, Pixar, as they continue to buck the trend that other animated production houses take. Whereas DreamWorks and Fox and any other company that does animated films tend to play as modern satires and spoofs, with timely jokes and music, Pixar continues to amaze with fully realized characters, visuals and story. Pixar films are becoming increasingly daring and ambitious, and Wall-E, by far, is their crowning achievement.

Whereas most animated films will be crammed with the voices of well known actors to pull in box office dollars, Pixar has gone the unconventional route of removing almost all dialogue from the entire picture. The two main characters, both robots, say twenty words between them; the main character says two or three at most. It's a risky move, as, after all, Pixar is making a movie for children. Or are they? When one thinks about it, Pixar has transcended the level of cartoon or kid's flick. Pixar is the one animated brand that all but guarantees widespread appeal and general audience attention. Most animated movies, even box office successes like Kung Fu Panda, do not automatically appeal to older audiences, and as such, DreamWorks and the rest have to make movies with the easy laughs. Pixar is guaranteed a lot of box office, and thus they have the ability to experiment.

Experiment they do. Wall-E takes place on Earth 800 years in the future. There are no humans left; in fact, the only form of life is a single cockroach. New York and the rest of the world are piled high with skyscraper-sized garbage heaps, created by the Wall-E robots left behind to clean up humanity's mess. The mess, created by megastores and consumerism, has caused humans to go on a five-year journey - going on 700 years - through space. Aside from the cockroach, all that's left is a single, lonely robot, who goes about his day doing his job and curiously examining the garbage he is designed to cleanup. When a spaceship lands and a new, shiny white female robot named Eve emerges to search for any sign of life, though, Wall-E falls in love. His curiosity and devotion lead him to follow Eve into space, and with him could come humanity's salvation.

Yes, it doesn't sound like a kid's movie. And in many ways it's not, except that it contains no objectionable material and is highly enjoyable in every single way. Wall-E does carry a heavy environmental message, but it's never in your face to where it becomes distracting. Written and directed by Andrew Stanton, the director of the Toy Story movies and Finding Nemo, among others, Wall-E is flawless in design, execution and story. Nothing is said for the first half hour of the movie, yet Stanton keeps you engaged, intrigued and entertained. Wall-E is funny, but in a simple, realistic way. Wall-E is like a curious dog, and humor comes from the same things that you would laugh about when watching your pet explore a new yard. Anything and everything can be fascinating to him, and he acts like a sad, lonely but determined puppy.

Beyond the writing, though, the visual effects and direction are absolutely amazing. The visuals, some of the best on the market today, continue the almost-realistic visuals seen in Ratatouille. The first half hour is especially mesmerizing as Stanton and his visual effects time show us a world that is stunningly detailed. The visuals deserve an Oscar, and if not for the stigma against animated films, I could see a Best Director nod in favor of Stanton.

Wall-E is quite possibly the best animated movie ever created, and beyond that, it is a funny, cute, romantic and heartwarming tale. It is, simply, a masterpiece.

In our third superhero movie of the summer, we get the refreshing Hancock, a rare genre film not derived from any comic book. While not perfect, this action-comedy has enough gunfights, laughs and entertainment to make it well worth the $10 admission.

In Hancock, Will Smith stars as a super-powered man who is invincible, has super-strength and can fly at blazingly fast speeds. Despite that, everyone in the city hates him. Not only does he tend to cost the city millions of dollars in damage with his "heroics," but he's a bum, a drunk and an asshole. With people chomping at the bit more than ever from Hancock to stop "saving" them, a PR agent (Jason Bateman) manages to convince Hancock to do some time behind bars to appease the public and make them realize just how much the city needs him. The plan works, but what happens next will surprise you.

First off, if you liked the previews, you will love the first half of the movie. Hancock, directed by Peter Berg (The Kingdom), is a fast-paced thrill ride full of car chases, gunfights and ugly children being thrown thousands of feet into the area just for mouthing off to the "hero." Smith is a convincing drunken bastard, and he acts like one with amazing ease. There are plenty of laughs, some good one-liners and lots of destruction (amazingly few explosions, come to think of it). I was highly anticipating Hancock, and much of the film delivers.

In the second half, though, Hancock begins to show some cracks. People are going to disagree on just how big of cracks there are; I would have gone an entirely different, simpler direction, but can't complain too much. The movie is consistently entertaining and has a fair amount of action, though some of the magic from the first half is lost in the second. After a completely surprising twist, the film's dynamic changes, not necessarily for the better. It dives into some rather unconventional plot elements that I don't know were the right choice for a summer blockbuster, but more importantly, Hancock loses much of its humor. I wouldn't say the film gets dark, but it certainly gets darker.

If you're wondering what I meant by keeping things simple, I would have had a supervillain show up and start wailing on Hancock. End with a gigantic fight sequence and throw in a few laughs to boot. It wouldn't have been the most original way to wrap things up, but when it comes to comic book movies, you don't need to be original, just exciting. Hancock's ending is pretty good, but perhaps a bit too low scale compared to what I would have expected.

In the end, Hancock suffers from a surprising but not necessarily great twist, weak CGI and a lack of a strong central villain, but its positives make up for at least some of its deficiencies.

Had Berg and writers Vincent Ngo and Vince Gilligan tried to stay within the standard limits of a superhero movie, Hancock could have been great. As is, it's solid but not flawless entertainment.

Review by Robert Bell (B-)

Stepping away from the X-rated exploits of HBO's Tell Me You Love Me, Patricia Rozema has taken on some decidedly lighter material with Kit Kittredge, a depression era G-rated Nancy Drew that is based on the popular "American Girl" doll line.  It seems logical that a movie based on a plush doll line of merchandise that professes "dress like your doll" as a selling point would be facile and salable, however, the film features some guileless didactics with a heartwarming centre that is only occasionally contrived. 

The film follows Kit Kittredge (Abigail Breslin) during the 1930's depression after her father (Chris O'Donnell) has left their home in search of work and her mother (Julia Ormond) has had to take borders into their home in order to make ends meet.  Kit's response to change and hardship is initially fearful, acknowledging social stigmas attached to the poor, such as selling eggs and wearing dresses made of chicken feed bags, but like all plucky heroines she makes lemonade when life hands her a bag of manure. 

To keep the younger demographic interested, there is an overlying mystery involving a faceless thief with an arm tattoo, who travels from town to town giving a bad name to hobos.  As one of Kittredge's central themes is that of acceptance and prevailing kindness, it doesn't take a great deal of genius to predict the road that the film will eventually travel. 

Observations about a child's necessity to take on more adult roles in difficult times, in addition to the human tendency to ostracize and condemn those who are different in order to validate their own fragile existence ameliorate the films schmaltzy tendency to be maudlin and banal.  For every false scene where the soundtrack forces unearned sentiment, there are moments of truth such as one where a young boy writes a fake letter to his mother from his absent father in order to give her hope and strength.

Color, costume and construction of Kit Kittredge are all top-notch, giving gravity and credibility to the premise, while performances from the cast of seasoned thesps are uniformly effective aside from Joan Cusack whose over-the-top goofiness is both distracting and aggravating.  Also, as Kit Kittredge, Abigail Breslin seems to be only partially present, going through the motions appropriately, but never connecting with her character or the audience.  Considering the impressive work by some of the other young actors in the film, this appears to be a problem with the young actress rather than one of direction.

The central mystery, along with Kit's journalistic journey are occasionally lost in a story that tries to cover too much ground, but comes together in a third act that ties things together satisfactorily, if unremarkably.  "Kittredge" glibly makes heroes and saints of the hobo community while shuffling looks of distain towards gypsies, but only out of ignorance and the necessity of simplifying complex themes for the younger target audience.  

Despite some severe pacing issues, more bookish pre-teen girls should find a connection with the titular Kit and her relentless self-preservation and persevering optimism in hard times.

Television series adaptations have a sketchy history. From The Avengers to Starsky and Hutch and The Dukes of Hazzard, there are far fewer hits than misses. It's a bit surprising, really, as every big television series has established characters, built-in fanbases and potential at a big screen level. But it's the fanbases that throw studios for a loop and encourage them to make crap. On the one hand, they want to appeal to such audiences that have very specific expectations, and on the other, they want the movie to work on a broader, modern level. The result is almost always an unfunny and uneven creation.

Unlike most of these TV-to-movie adaptations, Get Smart showed promise. The film featured at-his-apex Steve Carell in a role that seemed perfectly suited for him. A great supporting cast consisting of Anne Hathaway, Dwayne Johnson (finally shedding his "The Rock" alter ego), Alan Arkin, Terence Stamp and even James Caan and Bill Murray was another indicator. The previews, a blend of action and goofy comedy, also worked quite well. Still, nothing's a sure thing in Hollywood, and as the big weekend approached, reviews were mixed at best.

Thankfully, Get Smart is a pretty entertaining film. No one will praise it as the most brilliant movie ever, nor even the most spectacular of comedies. It is a tad inconsistent at times, not always on-spot with its jokes and flat in a few places. But, overall, Get Smart is what I was hoping for, and thus no where close to being a disappointment. It's good enough that I will look forward to its inevitable sequel.

The movie stars Carell as Maxwell Smart, a CONTROL analyst who gets his big break at being a field agent when the agency - and its existing agents - are compromised by a leak. Smart is teamed with Agent 99 (Hathaway), who is as lethal as she is hot, and the two form an uneasy alliance as they seek to take down KAOS once and for all.

Get Smart is James Bond meets "The Office," to put it in modern terms. Having never watched the original series, I can't compare, but the movie appears to have conquered the right blend of making the film modern without completely changing its roots. Impressively, director Peter Segal (Tommy Boy) manages to gloss over the fact that the Soviet Unio/Russia are no longer opponents of the U.S. as they were in the Cold War, and has all but brought the same conflict into the 21st century. Segal moves between action and comedy quite well; Get Smart is surprisingly action packed at times, though it never takes itself too seriously.

Of course, the make or break angle is the comedy, and Get Smart pulls off enough jokes to make it worth it. The movie isn't constantly funny - there are jokes that fall flat and others that are just awkward, but the screenwriters seemed to be aware of this and just keep spitting them out. The dialogue and gags come fast enough that even if a few jokes fall flat, you'll be chuckling a fair amount of the time. There are also some very clever jokes, though the marketing team included a fair amount of them in the previews.

Carell is, in fact, the perfect choice for the role. He essentially plays the same character that he does in "The Office," but adapted to a spy comedy. Hathaway fits the part well, though I didn't love her. The rest of the supporting cast is pretty good, specifically Johnson and some of the other "macho" agents.

Get Smart would have benefited from a tighter and more refined script, but even when jokes are failing, it seems intentional. Overall, the movie is entertaining and funny. Recommended.

Review by Nathan Samdahl (B+)

I agree with John Stewart's interview with James McAvoy, saying that this movie "should suck, but it doesn't."  For all intensive purposes a story about a thousand year old fraternity of assassins who get their directives from a giant loom should not be good.  Especially, when the background of the fraternity is only explored in a cursory manner and the story only allows for few and brief moments of character development.

In the hands of a lesser director, such as Brett Ratner (the Rush Hour movies, After the Sunset) or whoever the hell directed the Covenant, this film would have been awful.  But it wasn't.  It was directed by Timur Bekmambetov, the Russian phenom who brought us Night Watch and Day Watch, the vampire films which received much acclaim.  Bekmambetov's direction makes this film. Period.  He recognizes what the premise of the film presents him with, a chance to create a ton of eye-catching action sequences.  He also realizes how the back story of the fraternity and the mystery surrounding McAvoy's father is both necessary, yet far less interesting than watching McAvoy penetrate skulls with his bending bullets.  Even in these slower moments, Bekmambetov's visual style takes hold, creating great visual interest when there should be little.

The film also benefits from a strong cast, surprisingly strong for the storyline; McAvoy, Jolie and Freeman are all great while supporting roles played by Terrence Stamp and Lorna Scott (McAvoy's cringe-worthy boss) also hit the mark.  McAvoy holds nothing back in the film; at many points I thought his head would simply explode during one his many "anxiety attacks."  He shines in every scene, particularly during his outburst in his Office Space-like office and the closing action sequence filled with plenty of carnage.  Jolie is as hot and deadly as ever and her brief bath house appearance offers yet another bonus for the many guys that will flock to this one.  Also, while it is apparent that Freeman probably strolled onto set, was given some lines and delivered them with little to no prep (does he really need any?), he still managed to demonstrate that no one says, "Shoot that motherf@&#er," better than him.  Rehearsal or not.

The action scenes, which seem to get increasingly preposterous throughout the film, are some of the most entertaining and exciting action sequences of the summer.  Similar moments in other films that suffer from shitty overpriced computer graphics are corrected here, particularly the many slow motion bullet shots, which not only look great, but are creative not only in their camera movement, but in the crazy trajectories of the bullets.  It's not too often that you see a bullet fly through a donut and four car windshields en route to a target miles away. Also, to make this clear, the film is not only CG based; McAvoy gets his ass kicked and kicks some ass of his own in more genuine punch-to-the-face sequences as well including his involvement in a rather painful knife showdown.

Perhaps the only real negative about Wanted is its title, which would surely fade into oblivion if not for the strength of the film.  You would think that just a bit of the creativeness that went into making the film could have been put towards the title.  While Wanted does not fall in the same category as the Terminator movies or True Lies that manage to interweave great stories with great action, this is still one of the most entertaining films of the summer.  If you can, do this one as a double feature, Wanted in the theater and Night Watch when you get back.  It's hard to top assassins and vampires back-to-back.

What the fuck. That's my warning that this is one of those rare movie reviews where I will swear. Profusely. It's the only way to keep me sane.

I just got back from M. Night Shyamalan's The Happening, and... what the fuck? It's incomprehensible. Amazing and incomprehensible. I just don't get it.

First off, Shyamalan took my advice: he created a movie without a twist ending. After The Village and Lady in the Water turned out to be not nearly as good as marketed, it was clear that the best thing the star director could do was get people off the expectation that there would be a twist ending in every one of his films. That would mean he could spend more time focusing on a quality and entertaining story, and less on a gimmick.

But God have mercy on my soul. The Happening is about as bad of a movie as you can get these days, a masterpiece where every star and gizmo align to form the perfect terrible movie. How a film can even achieve a level of such complete and utter failure is beyond me. It's as if Shyamalan, upset that no one liked his God-awful Lady in the Water, decided to say, "Fuck it," to theater goers and deliver a film that lacks any kind of acceptable acting, writing, directing or storyline.

After The Village, I had a bad taste in my mouth. In hindsight, the movie wasn't terrible, but it wasn't great, either. Two of my favorite movies are The Sixth Sense and Unbreakable, and Signs isn't half bad, either. So, even after Lady in the Water amazed me by how silly and self indulgent it was, I had high hopes for The Happening. The movie looked like a return to Shyamalan's roots, a creepy thriller about something that is causing people to go crazy and kill themselves.

But don't get me wrong! I did not go into The Happening with high expectations. After canceling my opening night visit to the theater, I waited a whole week to see it. In that time, I was pounded left and right by bad reviews. Not only that, but my brother called me a few days ago and informed me just how bad the movie was. Rarely does he lay into a film so viciously, but he had nothing nice to say about The Happening. However, bad reviews don't shape my own opinion; if anything, they lower my expectations to a point where I hope I can enjoy the film on a visceral level.

How wrong I was. The Happening defied my expectations by being much worse than could ever be imagined. This movie makes Lady in the Water look like Schindler's List, a pile of runny dog poo taste like a T-Bone steak, Carrot Top a respectable actor. The movie is terrible, and only recommended to people who like to laugh at truly bad movies. Yes, The Happening is laughably bad, and that's not just because the boom mike appeared on camera for about a quarter of the film.

The acting is terrible. I like Mark Wahlberg, but he is downright embarrassing. So are Zooey Deschanel and John Leguizamo. The entire supporting cast is pathetic. Of course, one can't completely blame these actors for what can only be described as inane, unrealistic, cringe-inducing, laughable performances. The screenplay is a disaster, perhaps insight into what Shyamalan's personal Hell would feel like.

Beyond that, the movie just doesn't have much going for it. The concept, on a very high level, is decent, but there's not much suspense or excitement. Shyamalan does keep you guessing as to how the characters will survive an epidemic that is indiscriminate - assuming any characters do survive - but that's not enough to warrant a plot that is about as loose as a prostitute at a rodeo. If that didn't make sense to you, The Happening won't either.

Honestly, The Happening is almost assured Worst Movie of the Year on countless lists. This weekend's The Love Guru might come close, but I could never have imagined a film from a director once considered to be the next Spielberg to be so bad.

Review by Robert Bell (D)

What might have been the most amusing thing about The Love Guru was what happened prior to the press screening.  While the audience got seated and the studio rep made nice with the most recognizable film critics, there was live sitar music and belly-dancers that shook about up and down the aisles.  The music was entirely too loud and people had to dodge around the dancers to get to vacant seats.  While this scenario alone was highly amusing, the roar of applause that came after the music ceased and the girls put their boobies away was even more bizarre.  It was reluctant at first, but clearly social expectations and guilt got to many audience members who then overcompensated, making the entire ordeal unintentionally amusing and somewhat ridiculous.  It just seemed to be an example of a marketing meeting gone wrong. 

The film itself is equally bizarre, but rarely sparks any sort of amusement (intentional or unintentional) or cohesion.  The Love Guru is essentially a cinematic pastiche of all things familiar to the comedy world of Mike Myers and recent pop culture.  The sheer inanity and peculiar nature of the on-screen happenings lead one to believe that something of amusement might come about, but it never really does.  Instead, the film spouts out a series of jokes about poo, scrotums, doggystyle sex, French-Canadian profanity and copious allusions to fornication, both elephant and human.  While this should amuse younger audience members and those who are a little less discerning, it will likely irritate and confuse those with a slightly more refined comic palette. 

Pitka (Mike Myers), a North American raised in India by Guru Tugginmypudha (Ben Kingsley), decides to return to his native land to become the number one guru, surpassing Deepak Chopra.  His main course of action involves getting on Oprah's talk show, until Jane Bullard (Jessica Alba), the owner of the Toronto Maple Leafs, seeks Guru Pitka out to help her with their struggling star player Darren Roanoke (Romany Malco). 

Having recently separated from long-time girlfriend Prudence (Meagan Good), Darren suffers from hand trembles, which interfere with his puck handling.  This is only exacerbated by the fact that Prudence is now dating a French-Canadian goalie named Jacques "Le Coq" Grande (Justin Timberlake), who reportedly earned his nickname by having an enormous hog. 

As Pitka attempts to help Darren with his love issues, his agent Dick Pants (John Oliver) attempts to get him onto Oprah's talkshow, despite the fact that The Love Guru is far more interested in having sex with Jane Bullard. 

Despite sequences of Justin Timberlake singing Celine Dion songs and trajectory gags involving the word tabernac, trademarked acronyms and the use of Mariska Hargitay's (the emmy-winning actress from Law & Order: SVU) name as a greeting and a prayer, nothing comes across as genuinely funny.  The only mild amusement comes when Myers candidly points out the joke he was just making matter-of-factly.  This is most effective in a scene where he and Romany Malco sit in a crowded bar and Myers makes pooping noises into a coffee mug.  When he is done he then states to Malco "I was just making diarrhea noises into this mug."  This is, sadly, as witty as the film gets as it often resorts to jokes that involve celebrity tabloid vagina and boogers. 

The juvenile humor isn't the only problem with The Love Guru, as there are issues with direction and modernity.  When songs like Brimful of Asha, Blur's Song #2 and More Than Words start crowding the soundtrack, it becomes clear that a major barrier within the film is how outdated it is.  Back in 1997 when Austin Powers, Brimful of Asha and Song #2 were released, this film probably would have succeeded as a fresh and edgy comedy, however, it is 2008 in a post Judd Apatow and Tina Fey comedy world and The Love Guru just doesn't fit.  It's a retread of the familiar and old. 

Also problematic is Marco Schnabel's bland point-and-shoot directorial techniques that only gains urgency during hockey montages. 

Those excited to see a variation on the Austin Powers franchise may want to check this one out, but everyone else will likely be disappointed, confused and wondering if they really did just see two elephants have sex in a hockey arena.

Review by Robert Bell (B-)

Certainly safer and potentially more accessible to a broader audience than Monica Ali?s controversial novel, Brick Lane partially succeeds as an examination of an oppressed Muslim woman reluctant to voice her own opinions and desires.  Characters are closely examined with care and consideration, but are never given a greater sense of urgency aside from mild discontent in uncontrolled surroundings. 

Born of a poor Bangladeshi family, Nazneen (Tannishtha Chatterjee) is sold off to the older Chanu (Satish Kaushik) after the death of her mother and sent off to London to be a proper Muslim wife and mother to two daughters (Naeema Begum and Lana Rahman). 

After being overlooked for various promotions, Chanu decides to quit his job in favour of foolish and potentially unrealistic opportunities.  He even goes so far as to borrow money from a loan shark neighbour to buy a computer.  To supplement the income Nazneen starts her own home-based sewing business, which threatens the patriarchal sensibilities of her husband. 

Feeling somewhat isolated and trapped in her passionless marriage, Nazneen is flattered when she is the object of some attention from Karim (Christopher Simpson), who brings her clothing to sew.  Her affair with the younger man begins to go sour after the events of September 11th turn him into a political radical. 

Some of the struggle in translating the power of the novel onto the big screen likely stems from the inherent meekness of Nazneen.  Her struggles are mostly internal as her main weakness is an inability to speak her mind.  Occasional voiceovers help provide some insights, as do lingering scenes of household discontent from director Gavron, but her rebellion isn?t entirely logical or justified. 

This also stems from a relatively flat performance from Chatterjee.  She certainly looks the part and convincingly conveys weakness of character, but is unable to channel internal struggle or rebellion on the surface, which only exacerbates some of the shortcomings of the sparse script.  As Nazneen?s oldest daughter Shahana, Naeema Begum is the most convincing of the cast, being simultaneously caring and understandably disdainful of her parent?s damaged and disparate relationship.  She also helps to bring much needed tangibility to Nazneen?s penpal relationship with an offscreen sister, acting as a mirror to the absent character.

Despite these flaws, Brick Lane is an engaging and well photographed character study.  It is just unfortunate that a great deal of identification and empathy must stem from forces external to the film itself.

Review by Nathan Samdahl (B)

Trumbo tells the remarkable story of Hollywood screenwriter Dalton Trumbo, one of the famed Hollywood 10, who were indicted and convicted for contempt of congress during the HUAC trials of the late forties. Adapted from the play created by Trumbo?s son Christopher Trumbo, the film chronicles Dalton?s life, from his rise to being one of the most sought after screenwriters working in Hollywood to being placed on the Hollywood blacklist to writing under pseudonyms and winning an Academy Award. All in all, Dalton Trumbo is responsible for some of the great film works of the 20th century including Spartacus, Roman Holiday, Johnny Got His Gun and Papillon. Many of the stories he wrote strongly mirrored his own life often involving characters that were alienated from society and that stayed true to their morals and beliefs in the face of adversity. Director Peter Askin weaves together stock footage, interviews and most importantly the reading of some of Dalton Trumbo?s beautifully crafted letters by a tour de force ensemble of actors to tell a great story of a great man.

The quality of the actors gathered to read the letters is a testament to the legacy of Dalton Trumbo and the respect he has in the film community. Each member of the cast, which includes Michael Douglas, David Strathairn, Donald Sutherland, Joan Allen, Liam Neeson and Paul Giamatti, is on screen for no more than about five minutes, but each brings new life to the witty and pointed letters Trumbo wrote, many in response to the wrongs done to him by the House Un-American Activities Committee and the societal backlash that followed. While the presentation of the letters seems directly pulled from the stage play by Christopher Trumbo, with minimalist sets and rather theatrical line delivery, the strength of the actors keeps the audience invested for the most part. There were a few times where my attention wandered or where I was distracted by the performances. Joan Allen?s literal reading of one of the letters (meaning she actually was reading off of a sheet of paper) seemed a bit awkward since all the rest of the letters were memorized including another one by her later in the story. Also, Josh Lucas, who is a strong young actor, seemed a bit out of his league in comparison to his co-stars in the film, which was probably realized by the filmmakers who nearly completely cut him out of the ending of the film when the actors are edited together reading the same letter. These, however, are minor issues in a film that succeeds in many ways.

I often have issues with the introduction of theatrical stage conventions into a film as they often come across as awkward (the recent adaptation of The Producers is a perfect example). However, for telling the story of Dalton Trumbo, his letters are key and visually performing them is certainly much more powerful than simple voiceover. Even so, more footage such as from the HUAC trials and more anecdotes from the people that knew him, in place of one or two of the letters could have helped strengthen the pacing of the film, which lagged at a few points, especially in the second half of the film.

While the conventions used in Trumbo help it stand apart in the documentary genre, they also limit the interest in the film (which I am sure is no surprise to the filmmakers) certainly more to the art house crowd than to a mainstream audience. This is a bit disappointing since Trumbo?s journey in and out of Hollywood is a fascinating and devastating one that people should know about and one that certainly is very relevant in the current political and social climate. While it might not be top on your list of films to see, Trumbo is a high quality film that should be watched, if only to learn a bit about the plight of one of Hollywood?s greatest screenwriters of the last century.

After 2003's The Hulk failed to impress audiences and critics alike, no one really expected to see another iteration of the green beast anytime soon. Flash forward five years, however, and Marvel is trying to reboot the franchise-that-never-was, this time with Ed Norton at center stage.

Gone is Ang Lee, Eric Bana, Jennifer Connelly, Nick Nolte and any trace of the original picture that is the laughing stock of the Marvel-comic-turned-movie subgenre. Sure, Elektra was much worse, but people actually had expectations for The Hulk. Personally, I didn't hate the original, but considering that the only part of the movie I do remember is the ludicrously terrible ending, it's clear the first movie didn't quite hit the mark. Then again, I've never understood the appeal of the Hulk in general. A movie about a raging green monster with only minimal reasoning skills - and he's the hero - just seems silly to me, though that is perfect fodder for a mindless but entertaining summer action film.

And that is exactly what 2008's The Incredible Hulk is: a mindless but entertaining summer action film. It has plenty of action, a few explosions and just enough back story to piece it altogether. Beyond that, there is nothing particularly engaging or intelligent, but that's okay considering The Incredible Hulk is about a raging green monster with minimal reasoning skills.

Throwing Ed Norton into anything is an immediate upgrade, and knowing that the Oscar nominee, who is a fan of the comic, had his hands on various aspects of the production (except, much to his frustration, the final cut) immediately raised expectations. Then, the movie trailers started to appear, and those expectations waned as the movie appeared to have questionable special effects and a piss-poor screenplay.

Thankfully, the special effects are pretty decent and the screenplay also quite good, at least on a technical level - more on that later. The Hulk is, by definition, a challenge to any visual effects team, but the team has managed to make the best of the situation. There are a few stumbles, but overall I bought the visual effects.

Director Louis Leterrier, of Transporter fame, was brought in to deliver a more visceral experience than Lee's introspective version, and he does a pretty good job. The Incredible Hulk isn't nearly as ludicrous as Leterrier's other films, and is proof that the man is capable of making summer blockbusters. The movie looks good and is entertaining from beginning to end.

But how entertaining? The Incredible Hulk is not an amazing superhero movie by any stretch of the imagination. Especially compared to this year's Iron Man, which managed to be consistently funny, serious and exciting most of the time, regardless of what was happening on the screen, The Incredible Hulk is a bit bland. There are a few scenes where Zak Penn's screenplay evokes some laughs, but overall it takes itself way too seriously to no real result. There are some stretches where the movie just comes off as dull, though mainly there is just a lack of energy written into the dialogue. Tony Stark was constantly lighting up the screen, and Jon Favreau, behind the camera, made a world around him; here, Bruce Banner is mildly entertaining but not particularly engaging, and Leterrier doesn't get things rolling unless an action scene is at hand.

I liked The Incredible Hulk, but I'm not going to rave about it. It could have been better, though as is, it's good enough. The Hulk smashes, screams and punches his way to victory, and it's fun to see the green beast in action. Beyond that, I'll shrug my approval.

Despite my love for movies and an obsession for seeing films as soon as possible, I turned down an offer to see Sex and the City on opening night. Why? Because I didn't want to stay up until 3am surrounded by a bunch of screaming, crying, laughing women. Instead, I waited two weeks and went with a couple of my female friends - where they proceeded to scream, cry and laugh.

I, I'll admit, am one of the few straight guys who liked the television show. I never saw the first season, but saw every season after that, all within about a month's time span. I was, I'm pretty sure, one of the few straight single guys in the audience. There were one or two guys who had been dragged along with their girlfriends, and several more who were gay.

Now that the stage is set, I liked Sex and the City. Sure, it's a rambling movie, a long single episode or a shortened season shoved into two-and-a-half hours, a movie that requires you to already know the characters and care for what happens to them, for better or for worse. As a continuation of the series, it is the perfect denouement.

Sarah Jessica Parker, Kim Cattrall, Kristin Davis, Cynthia Nixon, Chris Noth and the rest of the cast have returned for this plus-sized adventure, and fans of the show will not be disappointed. Sex and the City has plenty of laughs, emotion, sex and so on and so forth. The mood and tone have carried over from the TV series, probably because writer/director Michael Patrick King has a long history as writer/director/executive producer of the TV show. The film really doesn't skip a beat.

Of course, this is mixed news to the standard professional critic and casual audience member. On its own, the movie is a massive epic of a romantic comedy, and romantic comedies aren't meant to be epic. Sex and the City is two and a half hours long and plays out more like a year in four women's lives rather than a concrete three-act story. The movie does have a beginning, middle and end, but the middle has so many random ups-and-downs and mini story arcs that the film doesn't appear to have a central focus at times. Those looking for a petite, streamlined romantic comedy should look elsewhere.

But Sex and the City isn't meant to be a streamlined romantic comedy, or stand on its own, or even be a romantic comedy. It's supposed to look at the lives of these four women, for better or for worse, no matter what they're going through. By definition, the stories have always revolved around their relationships and sex lives - hence the romantic comedy angle - but Sex and the City is not a romantic comedy by nature. And by sticking true to its theme and storytelling approach, Sex and the City delivers its fans exactly what they were craving.

Beyond that, the movie is actually very funny, or at least it consistently derives chuckles throughout. I, as well as the unlucky boyfriend who was sitting a row or two in front of me, laughed a lot throughout the film. Sure, there are some upsetting scenes with some major breakups that got the ladies crying, but being the insensitive guy that I am, I found those scenes pretty entertaining, too. While I never gave in to the emotional rollercoaster that is Sex and the City, because the ending is pretty predictable and I don't fall for things like that, I will say that the women took the movie with each rolling punch, bursting out in tears in the sad parts and bursting out in tears at the happy parts. Even unemotional me found the up-and-down stories engaging.

The only real problem with Sex and the City is the running time, which is ridiculously long for this kind of movie. Sure, King has plenty of stories to tell, but the film does lag in a few scenes. I'm not sure which scenes King should have cut, but there are a few places where the movie seems to get a little too far off topic, even for Sex and the City. Ultimately, every scene plays a role, but King could have condensed like all good screenwriters can.

Beyond an overly long running time, Sex and the City is an entertaining, fun and funny comedy that appeals perfectly to the show's fans and offers up enough jokes and emotion to please everyone else, too.

Steroid use in America. It's one of the most talked about topics, the subject of scorn and head-shaking, of fallen sports heroes and false home run records. It's a killer, officials say, and it is a growing problem in all levels of athletic events. Yet, are steroids really as big of deal as people say they are? In Bigger, Stronger, Faster*, Chris Bell explores the steroid problem in his own family, sports and America in general.

While the movie tackles the broad issues found in sports, politics and society, Faster revolves around Bell's own family. Bell, not a tiny guy himself, had dreams of becoming the strongest man alive after seeing Arnold Schwarzenegger as a child; he tried steroids, but was uncomfortable with the practice. His two brothers do not have the same reservations. Raised in the WWF culture of Hulk Hogan, Rambo and other massive heroes, Bell's brothers have been using steroids for years and see them as necessary to remain competitive in their respective "fields."

Bell interviews his brothers about their views, and then expands the discussion to take a look at steroid use in general. He explores the hypocrisy of Arnold Schwarzenneger, who has admitted to using steroids and politically speaks against them, yet sponsors body building tournaments where it is clear that anabolic steroids are used. He interviews people campaigning from both side of the argument, including those who say that there is no proof that steroids have ever killed anyone. Of course, Mark McGwire, Barry Bonds and Floyd Landis are all covered.

The documentary is an interesting one, and surprisingly unbiased. Bell does a good job of presenting the arguments without picking a side; while he states that he is opposed to steroids for ethical reasons, he does not slant his film that way. Less interesting is the discussion about just how dangerous steroids are, but when Bell dives into the ethical dilemma of steroids, the movie really kicks into high gear. Personally, I feel athletic organizations need to draw a stricter line about steroid use, but the biggest question is: where do you draw the line?

Overall, Faster is a very strong documentary that is fast paced, entertaining and informative. The director covers nearly every facet of the issue. The movie stumbles a little bit when Bell decides to spill the beans about his brothers' use of steroids to his parents; the whole situation seems a bit forced and contrived. Still, Bigger, Stronger, Faster* is a convincing and effective documentary.

Review by Robert Bell

When Did You Last See Your Father explores ideas of "seeing" a person beyond that of physical presence. Interpreting human complexity as something that is determined through a series of experiences and vacillating, ambivalent feelings, Father acts as a visual poem that tries to make sense of a father-son relationship through their most memorable and arresting life moments. A refusal to settle for glib resolutions and emotional simplifications is what allows this film to stand out from the many others of this ilk.

In early childhood, Blake (Colin Firth) viewed his father Arthur (Jim Broadbent) as a mythic being whose childish whimsy refused to abide by the rules that applied to everyone else. Inevitably, family secrets and the very nature of human imperfection lead to Blake's conflicting and occasionally hostile feelings towards his father, which are only further propelled by the masked feelings of isolation and disappointment that his mother Kim (Juliet Stevenson) radiates.

When confronted with the impending death of his father, Blake recounts the life experiences that have shaped his personal ideologies and perceptions. From unfortunate camping trips, to liberating driving lessons on the beach, to sexual awakenings with a live-in maid (Elaine Cassidy), Blake comes to understand the many levels of human passion and intent that exist within well-intentioned, but inherently flawed relationships.

Tucker's trademark emotionally driven direction that uniquely captured loss of control in Hilary & Jackie and feelings of isolation and disappointment in Shopgirl, lyrically defines the fragmented nature of human perception throughout Father. Characters are often seen obscured or duplicated through mirrors or barriers that help to define the inner-conflict and frequent misunderstandings that come about. The story itself isn't defined by linearity or narrative cohesion, but through very real and maturely explored sentiment, which can either be heralded or criticized depending on the expectations brought in by the viewer.

While Colin Firth doesn't bring a great deal of spark to his role as an emotionally guarded writer, Jim Broadbent delivers an attuned and insightful look at a man driven by personal passions and passing whimsies. There is a blind ignorance mixed with knowing amusement that is conveyed through his singular rants, which suggests intent far beyond what is interpreted by those around him. Additionally, Juliet Stevenson manages to bring significant gravity to her character with simple glances. This is impressive mainly due to the fact that she plays a completely guarded character who is never allowed to reveal her hand.

Visually arresting moments juxtaposed with minor insights regarding social dynamics within a family make Father a uniquely powerful cinematic experience. A lack of specified catharsis or classically narrative progression may deter viewers who are used to being told how to feel, but should please those who allow themselves to be taken along for the ride. (Mongrel Media)

Quality horror films come in fewer and fewer numbers these days, and it's a delight when one holds you by the throat. There's nothing like a film that keeps you breathless and guessing from beginning to end, that gets the adrenaline rushing and has you looking down at your lap asking yourself, "Why do I subject myself to this?" With that being said, expectations were high for The Strangers, the new horror film starring Liv Tyler and Scott Speedman.

The Strangers is about a couple who are spending the night at a summer home after an awkward proposal-gone-bad. Emotions are high and sentiments awkward, but nothing can prepare them for what they are about to go through. It starts with a girl showing up at their house - the wrong house. Then comes the knocking, and other sounds. Then the cell phone disappears, the door unlocks. There is someone outside - inside - everywhere. There are several people, wearing masks and intent on one thing: to frighten and kill the two people inside the house.

The Strangers had a lot going for it. The movie starred two reputable actors. The very first images released to the public were frightening. The trailer was creepy. And silent killers wearing plain masks are just damn scary. The first half of the movie lives up to the promise of the perfect slasher film. Writer/director Bryan Bertino keeps things quiet, adding music only when the characters are playing it (thankfully through a creepy medium such as a record player). The beginning almost plays out as a drama, hinting at something sad that has recently happened to the two leads. Subtle flashbacks tell us the story, then snap back to present where he establishes two strong, realistic characters. The girl shows up at the front door, and never before has a director made such an incident so creepy. The girl's face, partially obscured in darkness (though one would note only one of the two patio lights is out), is just out of full view, making it seem like at any second she's going to snap and do something terrible. Instead, she walks away.

Bertino has mastered the art of audio, as The Strangers is full of creepy, well-timed sounds. When the killers first attack, they do so only to terrorize; a knock here, a sound there, a rap over there. The movie is alive with audio, and Bertino keeps you on the edge of your seat whether you're watching the screen or not. Visually, The Strangers looks great, and Bertino does a good job of drawing the audience into the terror that the leads are feeling. As the characters look out the window, you know that inevitably someone with a mask is going to pop up to freak us out. It doesn't happen for a while, but it does happen. You could look away, but you can't look away for that long. It's scary stuff.

The killers themselves are about as creepy as possible, and given the $20 million The Strangers made in its opening weekend - double its estimated budget - Universal may have a new franchise on their hands. The best villains are always the simplest ones (Freddie Kruger could be an exception); from Michael to Jason, harmless masks have made some of the greatest villains in movie history. The villains in this movie take full advantage of the best costume: the mask. From a simple burlap sack to a doll's face, the masks exude innocence - and thus make the villains even scarier. The fact that they rarely, if ever, talk doesn't hurt.

So far, so good.

Unfortunately, The Strangers slowly starts to unravel in the second half. The movie is scary and suspenseful, until you realize that Bertino has written nothing more than a standard, cliche horror film. Expectations were high after the first half, but instead of going so many directions, Bertino turns his characters into terribly pathetic horror victims that follow every dumb rule in the book. Neither Tyler or Speedman have ever seen Scream - because they truly are about as sad as horror victims come. After Tyler realizes someone is in the house with her, her boyfriend shows up, only to question whether she's making things up. Seriously? Of course, he leaves his cell phone in the car, which, by the time he makes it back outside, has been vandalized. That should be enough of a signal that something is seriously awry, but he never seems to truly grasp the situation. He decides to go and get the neighbors, and has his girlfriend stay in the house. What? Split up? And leave your girlfriend alone in a house you know they've already broken into? Who the hell would do that?

Tyler's character is even worse. She runs around and is about as useless as a horse with no legs. After finally leaving the house, she starts running across the lawn - only to slam her leg into something almost immediately. Of course! Then, even with the knowledge that she is about to die, she slowly drags herself across the yard. If I were in that situation, even if every bone in my legs had been removed, I still would have stood up and ran my ass out of there. After further attacks, Tyler drags herself back to the house she just came from, seemingly unaware that she is surrounded by killers. What a stupid, stupid person.

The worst part of the movie is that not once do either of the good guys lay their hands on the villains. In a film like this, you'd expect there to be some brutal fights, or at least a few moments where the characters get the better of their pursuers. Instead, both Tyler and Speedman fail to do much of anything to fend of their attackers, leaving little to be desired when the ending arrives.

It's frustrating, because The Strangers could have been so good. Instead, Bertino defies the common logic of what a reasonable person would do in such a situation and adheres to comic horror movie fare. That would be all fine and good if The Strangers came off as B-grade horror flick, but it really has the makings of something more. The movie is immensely suspenseful at times, but the second half fails to deliver. Bertino took a great concept and applied it to standard horror fare, rather than the other way around - and the result is ultimately disappointing.

Review by Robert Bell (A-)

As a slightly morbid investigation of East-West culture clashes and the reconnection and adaptation of human relationships that surround loss and disappointment, The Edge of Heaven succeeds. It is structurally similar to the template made successful by Mexico's Alejandro González Iñárritu, but drawn in on a much smaller scale, keeping the story bound by Turkey and Germany. There is a stark realism to the relationships, which are never embellished or contrived for incongruous emotional impact. They exist believably, which is impressive considering the subtle balance created through a story of conveniently intersecting lives.

Edge of Heaven is broken into three parts; divided initially by two deaths and finally by the lessons learned and rekindling of broken relationships. Non-diegetic inserts showing "The Death of Yeter" and "The Death of Lotte" give the audience some not-so-subtle foreshadowing to the impending dooms of our likable and misguided protags. Despite the impending knowledge of the deaths, their inexplicit handlings are still somewhat surprising and upsetting.

The initial story follows pensioner Ali (Tuncel Kurtiz) as he visits whore valley for some copulatory satisfaction. Finding comfort in the steely, middle-aged prostitute Yeter (Nursel Kose), Ali decides to offer her a full-time job as his personal live-in hooker. Initially hesitant to accept his offer, Yeter becomes intrigued when she learns that Ali's son Nejat (Baki Devrak) is a professor in Germany. Upon moving in with Ali, it comes clear that she is far more interested in his much more grounded and aesthetically pleasing son. Feeling Yeter's distance, Ali becomes angry and abusive.

The death of Lotte (Patrycia Ziolkowska) starts out with Ayten (Nurgul Yesilcay), a young and armed political radical in Turkey being chased by the authorities. Escaping illegally to Germany, Ayten approaches Lotte for money to eat. Taking refuge on the young foreigner, Lotte invites her to stay at her house, much to the chagrin of her politically correct mother Susanne (Hanna Schygulla). Eventually, Ayten is deported back to Turkey and imprisoned. Desperate to help Ayten, Lotte travels to Turkey and rents a flat from Nejat as she tries to help her friend gain freedom.

The final story follows Susanne as she travels to Turkey to honor Lotte's wishes of helping Ayten fight her political imprisonment. While there, Susanne stays in her daughter's flat and strikes a bond with Nejat as they learn from each other and their respective tragedies.

From a subtextual perspective, Heaven is occasionally contradictory, but always interesting. The initial stories of female persecution by singular and sociologically superior men are met with an interesting denouement involving the rekindling of a damaged father-son relationship. The intended message is unclear when female suffering appears to be the fulcrum of catharsis for men, who mostly remain unaffected. There are also issues surrounding Turkish nationality and political discontent mirrored with more colonial German belief systems. German ideologies are painted with an equal, yet very different oppressions than Turkey, mainly when Ayten's forced pleas for asylum are denied and met with a relatively ignorant perspective. The insight appears to be that of differing perspectives unwilling and incapable of fully understanding each other without tragedy.

Additionally, Ayten's own trajectory is occasionally muddled as she seems unwilling to sacrifice her own political beliefs for the love and humanity she is so desperately fighting for. She ultimately winds up using Lotte, someone who genuinely cares for her, to further her self and her political agenda. Through tragedy, Ayten changes, but in doing so defies some of her own ideological values that were initially paramount.

While there is a deliberate nature to Akin's impressive script, there is also a feeling of detachment. On paper, the characters are left to perform their archetypes to further a political agenda, which occasionally comes across with minor artificiality. Thankfully, the performances from the diverse and talented cast mask this flaw. A great deal of depth and humanity is brought to each character as Akin's direction allows scenes to linger and the actors to explore each moment with insight. This also helps one overlook the surprisingly pleasant Turkish prison experience and recurring casket visuals.

The Edge of Heaven is one of the more thought provoking films to come about in some time and should be received well by art house auds and academics alike. There is a genuine feel to the relationships and political motivations exhibited on screen despite a greater knowledge of cinematic manipulation.

Review by Robert Bell (C+)

Going the route of most international productions, The Children of Huang Shi attempts to give narrative gravity and attract North American auds by overshadowing a significant moment in Chinese history with the banal love story of two camera-friendly Caucasians. Like a pimple on otherwise perfect skin, the characters are drawn with single-minded nobility and one unique flaw to make them human. It's a simplistic and not entirely convincing approach to characterization, which detracts from the impact of an otherwise interesting film.

George Hogg (Jonathan Rhys Myers), a young British journalist poses as an aid worker in 1937 China in order to gain access to Nanjing, an area sanctioned off by the Japanese. After stumbling upon a mass execution, he finds himself in a sticky situation with the Japanese until being rescued by an explosives expert who is part of a communist Chinese resistance group, Chen Hensheng (Chow Yun-Fat).

By some clever manoeuvring on the part of Chen, Hogg finds himself taking refuge at a dilapidated orphanage for boys. He initially finds the situation difficult, being rejected by the untamed youths - primarily the belligerent, anti-authority Shi-Kai (Guang Li) - that is, until the arrival of a deeply empathic Australian nurse with a secret (Radha Mitchell). With her help and guidance, Hogg teaches the orphan boys lessons of hygiene, mechanical repair, language and the cultivation of land.

When the threat of Japanese invasion becomes increasingly urgent, he decides to take the boys on a harrowing journey through mountains and snow to find shelter in a far off place.

At the centre of a story that is certainly worthy of the big screen treatment is a detached and almost mathematical screenplay that gives little emotion to what should be a passionate epic. Each character reaction, accidental cut and step forward in plot is methodical and contrived, thus creating a predictability and coldness to the various outcomes. This artificiality tends to gloss over interesting character conflicts in favour of unconvincing romance and almost mystical heroism. This is really a shame, as subplots involving discord between the forgiving Hogg and more vengeful Chen, as well as the struggles Michelle Yeoh's character copes with as an opium dealer are far more interesting and complex than what is displayed on screen.

While set designs and cinematography are often impressive to watch, Spottiswoode's direction is surprisingly flat and the editing is often sloppy.

Performances throughout are solid and professional, with Radha Mitchell standing out as a subdued and deeply flawed woman who escapes her spotty past by helping those less fortunate. Her character is written with a heavy hand and a great deal of cliché, but the talented actress is able to effectively convey meaning with slight expressions in the few quiet personal moments of the film.

What stands out about Huang Shi are the first-person testimonials from remaining orphans that are shown over the closing title sequence, suggesting that a documentary approach to the subject matter may have been somewhat more effective.