Les Misérables.

In addition to the inherent difficulties of filming a musical, any cinematic version of Les Misérables is unenviably tasked with meeting the lofty and unavoidable expectations of those familiar with the beloved Broadway show (that's me).

Cramped by the awkward limitations of a single camera, this version of Les Misérables limped through the first act. Even with grandiose sets, several songs and scenes felt restricted by the size of the screen, as opposed to the more open space of the stage. The musical also encountered the usual issue of showing both the scope and intimacy of duets and ensemble pieces. 

Once the showcase solos arrived, Les Misérables took off, beginning when Anne Hathaway killed I Dreamed a Dream (in a good way) in a brilliant single take that may win her an Oscar. Similar lengthy shots greatly enhanced several songs, also adding a Broadway feel to other highlights like On My Own and Empty Chairs. The much-publicized method of having the actors sing live on set worked perfectly, allowing emotional nuances to be added in the moment, rather than limit them to the vocal inflections recorded months earlier. 

Amidst an all-star cast, new faces Eddie Redmayne and Samantha Barks stood out as Marius and Eponine, with their stage pedigrees beaming through. Helena Bonham Carter and Sacha Baron Cohen were perfectly cast as the crass and crude Thenardiers, whose presence felt as slightly out-of-place as it did in the show. 

As Jean Valjean, Hugh Jackman didn't always have the ideal voice for the part. But his presence was always right, and he nailed several key moments, including his final scene. Another big star was needed to play opposite Jackman, but Russell Crowe was not the best choice for Javert. He can sing decently, and interpreting the justice-obsessed lawman with more of an earthy voice is reasonable. But Javert has already been defined by a classic baritone with two show-stopping solos. Crowe simply doesn't have the pipes to fill that role. Even those unfamiliar with the music, will instantly recognize his shortcomings relative to his cast mates. 

With all the powerful music and numerous characters, the film misses the pacing of the stage, which benefits from the built-in pauses and interludes that come from scene transitions and set changes, giving the songs and story room to breathe. The film somehow rushed through its 2:40 running time, though it didn't need to be longer. This was probably more of an issue for those trying to absorb the story and/or music for the first time. 

Bringing Les Misérables to the big screen was a crazy ambitious project, and the film was never going to meet theatrical expectations. But thanks to the potent music, this film is a commendable effort that isn't perfect but soars to splendid heights and should satisfy fans. 8 of 10. 

P.S. I'm not going to quibble with how the movie skips verses or adds lines or changes words (even a few favorites). Tweaks are necessary for translation to film, and most of them are effective, or at least understandable.

The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey

A few brief thoughts on The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey, which provided a welcome reprieve from Friday's tragedy...

As anticipated, The Hobbit was a wonderful return to Middle Earth, like revisiting a loved vacation spot to see old friends. Watching known characters like Gandalf and Frodo is a thrill; seeing the grassy comfort of the Shire generates smiles; hearing the musical themes of hobbits and elves induces happy chills. The film succeeds wildly on these nostalgic levels, as any well-made Hobbit movie would.

An Unexpected Journey is Bilbo-centric, focusing on Martin Freeman's superb young version of Ian Holm's Bilbo, as he joins a baker's dozen of dwarves in an intrepid attempt to reclaim their home. With adversaries ranging from trolls to wargs to self-doubt, their adventures are indeed grand. The visual effects are expectedly spectacular, and the action does not disappoint. The film's primary shortcoming is the lack of small moments that make the big moments worthwhile, like a great meal lacking adequate salt to fully draw out the flavor.

What seasoning there is stems from the film's most potent moments, which involve Bilbo's stellar quiet interactions with Gandalf, Gollum and the dwarves. As the story breathlessly races from one massive set piece to another, the minimal small scenes aren't enough to fully round out the film. Great adventure movies succeed not only because of the action but because of the characters. The emotional connection to the main characters here is diluted by the sheer volume of dwarves and the fact that their quest isn't as inherently compelling as destroying a world-threatening evil, nor is Bilbo's participation as easily understood.

This should change as the trilogy develops. For now, An Unexpected Journey felt very much like the first of three movies, providing an exciting ride and an enjoyable stage-setting first act that begs for more. Still a solid 8 of 10, with the potential to rise as the series progresses.

The Fighter.

As expected, The Fighter is a sports movie. The basic story is familiar to anyone who's seen a sports movie, and little is surprising along the way. All of which makes the superior nature of the film even more remarkable.

The Fighter succeeds because it does everything well, particularly the acting and the pacing. The performances are what make the movie, as the familiarity of the genre allows the actors to shine. The Fighter would have been good with lesser actors, but the strong leads and stellar supporting cast elevate the film to Oscar contender.

Christian Bale will justifiably win awards for his masterful portrayal of the drug-addicted former boxer Dicky Eklund. Amy Adams will rightfully earn plaudits for sassily playing against type as a hard-edged bartender turned determined muse. The supporting cast is pitch-perfect in their various quirky roles. Amidst all the characters, Mark Wahlberg is the glue of the film as the titular Micky Ward, who battles adversity both in and out of the ring. Several other roles are showier, and the part may not be a big stretch for the Boston-born tough guy, but Wahlberg holds the story together with his more-difficult-than-it-looks combination of fierceness and likability.

In a cinematic age with too many bloated films, The Fighter moves steadily along, avoiding the superfluous scenes that plague most movies. Yet director David O. Russell hits all the necessary notes flawlessly and still finds time for beautiful small moments, from a tender hand holding to the jotting of a number to a passionate celebratory kiss. These poignant instants put the finishing touches on a thoroughly enjoyable drama.

The Fighter is more than just a good sports movie. It's a great movie regardless of genre, featuring numerous outstanding performances. 9 of 10, which feels high, but I don't think anything could have been done better.

The Voyage of the Dawn Treader.

The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe will always be the best Narnia story, because it's the original. But Voyage of the Dawn Treader has long been my favorite, due to a seamless blend of mysterious adventure and thought-provoking morality. With its episodic island-hopping, Dawn Treader always seemed the most cinematic book of the series, although I think it would make an even better single season of television.

Similar to the film version of Prince Caspian, Dawn Treader largely fails to capture the book's true spirit, which is the main element I ask for in an adaptation. By adding a singular theme of good and evil, the movie does drive forward more easily, but inserting the layer of intentionality ends up depriving the story of its wide-eyed adventure, particularly when the climax doesn't match the buildup. In trying to make Dawn Treader a more conventional tale, the filmmakers neutered too much of the narrative's soul.

Traces of the book's heart do shine through occasionally in small but thrilling moments involving Lucy's smiles, a dragon's tears, Reepicheep's valor and Aslan's words. Even filmmakers who don't truly understand the book can't screw up these remarkable moments, which make the movie worthwhile for Narnia lovers. Perhaps the best part was the credits, which featured colorized versions of the book's original drawings. Those were fantastic.

I suspect that those unfamiliar with the book will still enjoy the movie, perhaps even moreso. Dawn Treader isn't a bad watch. Frankly, it was about what I expected, though less than I hoped. 6 of 10.


One other side note...

I can usually understand why changes are made to source material, even extreme changes like those in Dawn Treader. I get that they wanted a more substantive antagonist. Fine. Reepicheep should have had darker fur...but maybe a lighter color looks better on film. Caspian should be blond...I guess he looked better as a brunette. I can even accept bigger things like Ray Liotta batting from the wrong side as Joe Jackson in Field of Dreams; he was the perfect actor for the part otherwise. Okay, I get it. What I'll never understand is why small things are changed. For example, in the book Eustace puts the bracelet on his left arm, not his right, as he does in the movie. In HP4, why is Hermione's dress pink instead of blue? Why can't filmmakers get simple facts correct? What legitimate reason could there possibly be for changing those things? Maybe it's just laziness or apathy, but that inattention to detail is too often a microcosm of what frequently separates movies like these from phenomena like The Lord of the Rings.

Inception.

Inception is yet another extremely well-made film by Christopher Nolan**. A fascinating idea executed perfectly by a strong ensemble of actors and a high-caliber technical crew.

The visual effects are very impressive and occasionally wow-inducing, so seamless and story-serving that they are almost overlooked. Avatar is a drastically different movie from Inception, but each uses visual effects perfectly, integrating them as part of the narrative rather than mere flashy eye candy.

Given the vibe of confusion emanating from Inception's buzz, I expected a labyrinthine story but was pleasantly surprised by its simplicity. The basic narrative structure is complex but fairly straightforward. It requires attention and thought but not to a painful degree, creating an excellent cinematic experience for those who want a dose of intellect with their entertainment. The production team deserves significant credit for that, as the various unique visuals made it easy to track the different arcs occurring simultaneously.

The film's primary shortcoming was the relatively weak emotional link. While most all the characters were likable, only one was fully three-dimensional, and his main emotional arc was more intriguing than engaging, interesting more as a plot device than for emotional reasons. Perhaps another viewing would enhance the emotional ties, which were overshadowed by the compelling main narrative. Inception was still a magnetic thriller despite that flaw, which speaks to how strong the mental and visual pulls were.

Inception may have been undone a bit by its own expectations. Despite reading little about it, but the positive buzz was unavoidable. I expected at least an 8 out of 10, so when I got exactly that, I wasn't underwhelmed; I was simply whelmed. Just like the United States soccer team, the movie met expectations so precisely that more seemed possible.

The best films execute inherently great emotional narratives in near-flawless fashion. Inception was a great story executed in that way but lacked power-infusing themes. 8/10 for the best film thus far this year (okay...it's actually the first 2010 movie I've seen in a theater).


**Can we discuss how ridiculously good Christopher Nolan is? Look at his six major films. Memento and The Dark Knight were two of the ten best films last decade. The Prestige and Batman Begins weren't far behind. Insomnia was well-made and decent, though a couple notches behind the other five, including Inception. That's an absurd career-opening run. He's the Albert Pujols of film directors.

LOST: The End.

The LOST finale was like a good chunk of the whole series. Characters: great. Powerful moments: ridiculously great. Throwback moments: deliriously enjoyable. Storyline: a little dicey.

I thought the finale was off-the-charts phenomenal until the last few minutes. The highs still greatly outweighed the ambiguity, and the episode still felt right and satisfied on the whole, with a slight aftertaste that wasn't bitter as much as perplexing. But I've always enjoyed LOST more for the characters than the Byzantine plot. If you wanted questions answered, I suspect you were severly disappointed, even angry.

In some ways, LOST reflects life. We don't always get answers, at least not ones we want, and I accept that.

Au revoir to LOST, my favorite television show ever.

Avatar. Wow.

At their best, movies are an escape, an opportunity to experience times and places disparate from one's own life. These adventures can take the audience to a nearby country, or maybe a different era, or even just plant them among a different class of people. Plenty of classics like The Godfather and Casablanca excel by atmospherically yanking the viewer into a world not wholly unfamiliar at the time, then adding a resonant story involving grand and powerful themes.

Good fantasy movies have an inherent ability to enrapture like nothing else, because they create entirely new worlds often set in entirely different times, novelties that are best understood and experienced by fulling giving oneself to the story. Plenty of fantasy movies have failed miserably, and all the money in the world doesn't guarantee that the effects and images will enthrall audiences (The Phantom Menace). When done well however, fantasy is not only for geeks, but for any open-minded person willing to spend a couple hours in a new place. In Avatar, that new place is Pandora, a distant Earth-like moon where humans involved with both science and the military are attempting to learn more about its unique inhabitants and possibilities.

Director/producer James Cameron escalates the built-in fantasy advantage by adding the element of 3-D, which has been used in many movies, but rarely with much success. My goodness, does Cameron ever know how to use 3-D. From the opening shot, one realizes that this is no ordinary film. As the movie continues, the camera maneuvers deftly around rooms, rustles through the brush, floats amidst the trees, and soars between mountains. When used well, good camera movement adds a strong dynamic to traditional shots. Cameron goes beyond that, presenting breath-taking new angles with enhanced perspectives that reach out and envelope the viewer in stunning fashion. There's probably something about wearing 3-D glasses that subconsciously adds to the experience as well. I have never felt as physically connected with a movie.

Words can scarcely describe how enrapturing the visuals are. Their power cannot be overstated. I spent half the movie gasping, wide-eyed and open-mouthed at the countless Did-You-See-That! moments. For most of the drive home, I was shaking my head, in awe of the entirely new world on the planet Pandora. It was like watching the documentary series Planet Earth, but in three dimensions and (believe it or not) with better imagery. Movies often trumpet that they are unlike anything you've ever seen, but Avatar can justifiably say precisely that.

I can count my transcendent cinematic experiences on one hand. By transcendent experience, I mean more than just a great movie. I mean an engrossing movie that thrills the senses. Something so atmospheric that it seems to engage more than merely eyes and ears. Avatar joins the list, as its three dimensions create an almost tactile experience amidst the beautiful flora and fauna of Pandora. Perhaps the greatest compliment is this: the political and environmental subtext is fairly obvious and potentially irksome, but I was so immersed in the spectacular world that I didn't care. That's how I knew Avatar had me.

Overshadowed by the remarkable look and feel of the film is the less groundbreaking story. In one sense, calling it a weakness is an overstatement, because the narrative does its job. It provides a framework to supports the stunning visuals, by tweaking familiar arcs enough to keep them fresh. On the other hand, the story is laced with great themes of love and sacrifice, but lacks the powerful ancillary ideas that might have pushed the film to a more exclusive stratosphere. If the unprecedented visuals were buttressed by a better story, Avatar might have been on an extremely short list of all-time greats. Or perhaps such a potent narrative mind have distracted from the eye-popping pictures. Either way, a week after seeing the film, the unforgettable world lingers and resonates far more than the story.

Bottom Line: I've seen better movies in my life, but I've never had a better cinematic experience than Avatar in IMAX 3-D. 9.5 out of 10.

(500) Days of Summer.

(500) Days of Summer is not a typical indie romantic comedy. As the poster accurately states, this is not a love story, it's a story about love, which makes for a unique movie experience, through both content and manner of storytelling.

The movie traces 500 days of the relationship between Tom (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) and Summer (Zooey Deschanel), but does so in an nontraditional way, bouncing from point-to-point in their romance by use of a scene-opening counter, which displays the day and stage of the relationship. The non-linear method of storytelling is a tool that provides the movie with a layer of poignancy absent from most romantic comedies.

The movie effectively captures the various moments of life and love: the highs, the lows, and the in-betweens. By leaping back-and-forth through time, these snapshots are uniquely juxtaposed in a way that keeps your emotions on a yo-yo, yanking you back to a happy moment when things look bleak, and reminding you of what is and could be ahead when all seems perfect. This shunning of the usual smooth story arc is disorienting initially, as you try to mentally collect and sort the pieces you have seen. But you soon relax, realizing that the flow of events is self-explanatory enough that the precise order is not necessary.

Given the unusual nature of events, which provide the movie with a slight fairy tale feel, a few other filmmaking twists are also used effectively. The movie occasionally breaks from reality, sticking in a song-and-dance number to joyously show the excitement of new love, and a brilliant use of split-screen that simultaneously shows expectations and reality much better than any after-the-fact dialogue could have done. In a straightforward movie, these techniques would have been jarringly out of place, but since the primary method of storytelling is already off the wall, these even zanier choices feel no more unusual, adding to the freshness of the tale.

The movie is much more than cinematic gimmickry, due to the likability of the two lead actors. Gordon-Levitt continues to grow wonderfully as an actor, bringing to the role a youthful maturity often missing in similar films. Deschanel is excellent as always, with her wide-eyed quirkiness that perfectly fits Summer's perspective on love. The two have the precise amount of chemistry for the relationship, nailing the distance or lack thereof at every point along the way, and their infectious exuberance keeps the viewer interested throughout.

(500) Days of Summer is in no ways a typical movie, either in story or method. In this way, it accurately and beautifully mirrors the roller coasters of life and love. Life is not perfect. A love story doesn't always unfold in three acts. Everybody doesn't necessarily live happily ever after. That does not mean imperfect experiences are not worthwhile. The ability to reflect and learn from the past is part of what makes us human, and this film is a first-class exhibit of that aspect of humanity.

Bottom Line: A refreshingly creative change-of-pace that accurately reflects the tumultuous vagaries of life and love. 8/10.

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince.

When I see and review movies that are adapted from books I've read, I try not to get wrapped up in the similarities and differences, because I think doing so can ruin the cinematic experience by distracting from the movie, which often must tweak the story to translate it to the big screen. Having said that, this review is a bit of an exception, because many of the weaknesses of the movie are precisely the strengths of the book. That may not be entirely fair to the movie, but so be it...

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince (HPHBP) is the story of Year Six at Hogwarts, where our trio of heroes returns to school as a strengthening Lord Voldemort and his army of Death Eaters begin to wreak havoc on both the wizarding and Muggle worlds.

Getting right to the point, the movie's primary problem is that nothing drives the story. The book is propelled by three main questions: What is Draco up to? Who is this Half-Blood Prince whose book Harry possesses? Why is Dumbledore showing Harry the various memories? These three interwoven storylines, combined with a side of romance, effortlessly carry the book through its 700+ pages, sprinting to the finish in an absurdly entertaining final five chapters. But the movie mishandles these three major questions and fails to carry much of this palpable drama to the screen.

In the movie, the answer to the first question is made apparent to the viewer early in the movie. The main characters don't learn the answer, but the audience does, an odd cinematic choice that deprives the narrative of its usual protagonist-based power. The second question is a continuing arc that is given short shrift throughout, to the extent that when the riddle is answered in the final moments, it's merely an "Oh."-inducing throwaway line rather than a "Wow!"-inducing culmination of 2+ hours of mystery. The final question does move the movie along somewhat, but the numerous omitted memories rob Voldemort of his explanatory traits, as well as Dumbledore of his motives. Voldemort thus feels like a typical two-dimensional villain rather than the vortex of evil he ought to be, and Dumbledore seems to be more of an uncertain guide instead of a presciently powerful wizard. As for the romance angle, those scenes are executed well enough, including a few poignant teen moments, but neither one of the potential pairings seems fully fleshed out. They don't necessarily feel wrong, but they do feel inadequately supported.

On the bright side, the highlight of the HPHBP is undoubtedly its not-so-bright look. With its washed-out appearance that borders on black-and-white at times, this colder version of Hogwarts is an appropriately stark contrast to the warm and cheery home portrayed in the first two films. But aside from the look, which accurately expresses what the tone ought to be, given the lurking evil, the tone itself doesn't match.

The best part of Order of the Phoenix was the way that director David Yates captured the spirit of the book, effectively displaying the magical and dangerous wizarding world yet also taking time to show smaller moments of laughter and friendship, which were to be treasured as the dark times approached. Yates is not nearly as effective in HPHBP. The vivacity is largely absent, and while some of that is understandable due to the nature of the events, it's still a world of magic. Too often the movie seems to forget that. I will say that the cave scene in the final act is quite magical and quite good, though still a bit rushed. Finally at that point the movie seems to have a purpose, even if it isn't entirely clear what that purpose is.

Without the aforementioned compelling story arcs or the brisk pace of OOTP, the film meanders throughout, running in place for two and a half hours and failing to build momentum as the narrative leaps between arcs, as though not sure where to go while killing time until the climactic final movies. Despite this, the 150 minutes rarely seem to drag, which speaks to the potency of the source material and the attachment that book readers have to the characters.

In the end, the movie's focus is shallow and wide, rather than deep and narrow, leaving the entire work feeling weak, like there wasn't enough of everything. The danger never felt real enough. Dumbledore wasn't confident or wise enough. Harry wasn't eager enough to figure out where Dumbledore was leading him. And a certain late scene, which is the most jaw-dropping in the entire seven-book series, is shockingly underplayed. The result is an experience that satisfies marginally, leaving this Potter fan disappointingly underwhelmed.

(Though I haven't spoken to anyone who has seen the movie without reading the book, I suspect that those people would enjoy the movie less, not entirely understanding many parts and being confused by multiple short scenes that seem included merely to satisfy fans.)

Bottom Line: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince is the penultimate book, with a superb story that aggressively drives toward the inevitable showdown between good and evil. Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince is also the antepenultimate movie, with a weakened story that gradually wanders toward a lukewarm conclusion. 6 of 10, only that high because I already had the true power of the story ingrained in my head.

P.S. I'm slightly terrified that David Yates is also directing the last two movies. I hope he doesn't ruin them.

P.P.S. Why wasn't Felix Felicis gold in color? I don't understand why moviemakers screw up simple-yet-obvious things like that.

Indiana Jones and the...huh?!?

Less free time means fewer movies seen and shorter reviews, but I finally saw Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull, and I wasn't missing much.

Given the pedigree and talent of the cast and crew, along with the massive familiarity of the audience with the series, making an awful Indiana Jones movie would be difficult. But Steven Spielberg and company nearly accomplish the task, relying solely on past magic to carry the picture.

The first hour of the movie is decent, with the introduction of a couple marginally interesting characters, played well enough by Cate Blanchett and Shia LeBeouf, and the usual series of globe-trotting adventures. But as a microcosm of the entire movie's problems (aliens?), the centerpiece action sequence starts well before taking a couple bizarrely ill-fitting turns (monkeys?!?) that overshadow the little quality that is present in the movie.

The primary thing that makes the movie worth watching is the familiarity with the title character, and the ease with which Harrison Ford returns to the role. Indiana Jones is an all-time great cinematic character, and Ford nails the part again. Even at his age, he is a joy to watch in this flick.

If the last act of this movie were in a Indy-knockoff like National Treasure or Tomb Raider, it would have been laughed out of the theater. In this setting, it doesn't fit either, but the established familiarity grants the movie enough leeway to make it worth a rental.

Bottom Line: 2 of 5 for quality, 3 of 5 for enjoyability. 5 of 10 for a mediocre move that lives on past accomplishments.

Paul Newman, 1925-2008.

Not to be overlooked amidst all the election and bailout coverage, Paul Newman passed away this weekend. In my mind, he was the 2nd-most iconic actor of his generation, trailing only Clint Eastwood, despite the fact that I've only seen five of Newman's two dozen or so films, and only three from his prime. That alone speaks volumes about his cinematic presence and abilities. In addition to The Sting (an underrated Best Picture winner, if that's possible) and Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid (one of the first and best buddy flicks), the other classic Newman movie I have seen is The Hustler, the best parts of which still resonate with me three years later. Here's my original review...

The Hustler is a classic 1961 film about the shady pool halls of the post-WWII era. Anyone of the three main characters could fill the titular role, whether it be Paul Newman's up-and-comer, Jackie Gleason's man-to-beat, or George C. Scott's behind-the-scenes angle-shooter.

These three stars (all-Oscar nominated) carry the picture, both individually and collectively. The thirty-ish Newman is simply a revelation to anyone (me) who hasn't seen him act much in his prime. He perfectly captures the smooth, in control but on the edge persona of Fast Eddie, who has the physical tools, but not necessarily the mental skills to be a champion. Gleason likewise perfectly fills the body and clothes of Minnesota Fats, with a graceful elegance uncommon to a man of his size. Scott (who declined his Oscar nomination) could easily have been overshadowed in his role, but his subtle and shifty eyes and movements create a character that occasionally outshines his two huge co-stars.

The Hustler reaches its zeniths when at least two of these men are on the screen. The dialogue exchanges of Newman and Scott as they feel each other out crackle with intensity. Gleason and Scott ooze wary respect for each other; and Newman and Gleason combine admiration and competitiveness into one neat package from which the entire film derives its energy.

A film about pool sharks seems to demand brilliant representation of its colorful world. But French cinematographer Eugene Shuftan instead opts for black-and-white, which surprisingly works wonderfully. His Oscar-winning imagery particularly excels in displaying light and shadows, such as the sun streaming into smoke-filled billiards halls. Shuftan accomplishes an exceptional feat, using a monotone style to effectively paint vivid pictures.

Despite high achievement in so many areas, The Hustler suffers from Doughnut Syndrome: there's a hole in the middle. The pool scenes that bracket the story are very good, and one middle scene between Newman and Scott is the best of the film, but the romantic portion of the story flounders. The drifter Newman falls for a fellow drifter (Piper Laurie) for no apparent reason, other than alcohol and the fact that they're both alone. To their credit, they do acknowledge that their relationship is flimsy and depraved, but the movie squanders too much times on this wafer-thin story arc, rather than stick with what works.

Those parts succeed wildly, about as enjoyable as any scenes ever shot, but without adequate buttressing material, the film as a whole falls short of the high watermark left by its parts.

Bottom Line: Phenomenal at times, but subpar at others, the male performances carry the film. Seven of ten, but definitely worth viewing if you haven't seen it yet.

Edit: In my memory, I'd bump this up a notch, because parts were off-the-charts good. But I don't recall the weaker portions, which means they were probably as mediocre as I originally thought.

The Dark Knight

The Dark Knight has received near-universal praise from critics and fans alike. Its Rotten Tomatoes rating is well over 90%. It currently hold the #1 spot on IMDb's Top 250. Amidst the massive praise, I'm here to tell you...that everyone is right, even if they don't know why.

The Dark Knight picks up not long after Batman Begins ended, with Christian Bale's Bruce Wayne living in high society by day and his Batman fighting crime at night. The Gotham City public is still unsure of Batman's intentions, considering him equal parts threat and savior. Into this gray area shoots The Joker, the best screen incarnation of evil I have ever seen.

The late Heath Ledger turns in a performance worth of all accolades he has received, completely disappearing into the twisted role. The makeup aids in the transformation, but more impressive is Ledger's intentional body language, which is utterly creepy in its remarkable precision. The Joker is not the extravagantly villainous psychopath most often seen in comic book movies. Instead he is the worst sort of enemy, measured and deliberate, every bit the equal of any superhero. Alfred sums up what makes Joker unique, pointing out that he has no defined agenda, but "just wants to watch the world burn." Chaos is Joker's goal, making him the best film equivalent of the Devil that I have ever seen. Ledger's death undeniably overlays his jaw-dropping performance with an layer of requiem that evokes an inimitable combination of ache and awe, but regardless of the real-life influences, he owns the role and the screen every second he is seen.

In addition to Ledger, the other not-to-be-overlooked actors are far better than the latest young stars often crammed into comic book movies. Bale's fierce intensity matches Ledger's show-stopping performance with a range of emotions so effective that his turn will likely be underappreciated. Maggie Gyllenhaal is a brilliant choice as Rachel Dawes, displaying more acting chops in her first thirty seconds on screen than Katie Holmes did in two hours of the prequel. What Gyllenhaal may lack in traditional beauty she more than makes up for with her carriage and attitude. As the never-quite-trustworthy district attorney Harvey Dent, Aaron Eckhart brings the precise amount of slickness, leaving the viewer riding shotgun with Batman, appropriately unsure of Dent's motive and actions. Add in Gary Oldman and Michael Caine, who are both again perfect in their roles as the world-weary cop and the eye-twinkling butler, and the result is a cast perfect for this brooding drama.

Some have labeled this the best comic book movie ever. I will call it the best such comic book adaptation (perhaps not movie), but TDK transcends superhero flicks, morphing into a massive crime drama that is more Heat than Spider-man. TDK elevates the genre with masterful filmmaking and acting. The story is an impressively choreographed roller coaster that scarcely relents over two and a half hours. If the film has a weakness, it might be the flawless complexity of the plot, but given the perfection of the characters, that potential issue is easily overlooked.

Gotham City is once again a bleak world in which hope seems nearly lost, a dark place both figuratively and literally. Although a cloak of evil threatens to overwhelm both the city and the viewer, the blackness is shattered by two shafts of light. One inspiration is of course Batman, who parallels Joker's diabolical plots with his drive to save an ignorant people from their bleak situation. Batman's determination and actions subtly call to mind a greater savior from 2,000 years ago (thanks to Ben N. for that one). The other stems from from a surprising late decision made by endangered Gothamites. These two sparks of optimism provide a dawn to the dark night that dominates the film.

On top of TDK's quality and the extra layer that Heath Ledger's death adds to the proceedings, I aver that that these redeeming qualities are a strong reason for the film's immense popularity. Without a small but vital sense of optimism, The Dark Knight might veer down a depressing trail blazed by movies like Sin City. Instead, the threads of good woven into the fabric of the story leave a pleasant aftertaste and elevate TDK to a level never before reached by comic book movies. Like classics such as Star Wars and Raiders of the Lost Ark, The Dark Knight possesses an admirable soul that stirs emotions in ways that ordinary films can not.

A perfect confluence of events have made The Dark Knight a phenomenon, more cinematic experience than mere movie. But had the film itself not matched the massive hype, even the intriguing subplots of anticipation and reality could not have salvaged it from plunging into the abyss of disappointment. Instead, the high production value, equally impressive performances, and positive spirit amplify the expectations into an all-encompassing appreciation for what may be the best film of the year.

Bottom Line: 10 of 10, equal parts quality and entertainment. Movies don't get much better than this.

The Happening.

As Jasien commented on my Top Ten of 2007, I have a weakness for M. Night Shyamalan movies, so I was eagerly anticipating his latest film, The Happening, which promised something appropriately bizarre and mysterious.

Similar to Steven Spielberg's War of the Worlds, the film follows on a primary protagonist through a catastrophic event. Instead of Tom Cruise surviving aliens, Mark Wahlberg faces an unknown pandemic that is causing people to kill themselves.

I liked several things about The Happening, most of them Shyamalan-specific. I love the way he shoots films, with long, dramatic takes and extended reactions. These enrapturing skills ratchet up the tension and tug the viewer along. His premises are also clever, expanding simple ideas into bigger stories that impact people on a personal level.

Both skills are present in The Happening, which does have its moments. Normally mundane shots are transformed into moments of dramatic terror, aided by effective music that borders on cheesy. Seeing the reactions of normal people in extreme circumstances is always evocatively fascinating, even if the arc of emotions is somewhat predictable.

But even these great techniques aren't enough to save the movie, which doesn't possess the rich layers present in most of Shyamalan's work. The story may be too simplistic, and the characters are largely one-dimensional, not helped by Shyamalan's style of minimalistic acting. As a microcosm of the entire cast, the usually solid Mark Wahlberg does not exhibit the ability of a Willis or Gibson to subtly create emotions. Without the personal connection, a movie that relies on making that connection fails to intrigue as it should.

In the hands of a different director, The Happening might be considered more of a success, an entertaining movie that really isn't very good. But Shyamalan has set the bar so high for himself, that fair or unfair, the built-in expectations are not met.

Bottom Line: I enjoyed the experience, but the movie simply wasn't very good. 4/5 for likability, 2/5 for quality. 6 of 10 overall, and that's coming from a huge M. Night Shyamalan fan.

Prince Caspian.

I've said this before, and I'll say it again. The Chronicles of Narnia are my favorite books ever. I love them. However when it comes to the movies, I understand that changes need to be made to make them more movie friendly. A strict faithfulness to the books might result in uninspired adaptations like the first two Harry Potter movies, which were okay, but lacked the cinematic wow factor of the third. A balance between loyalty and license must be found, and that's always a difficult tightrope to tread.

Having said that, I'm going to discuss Prince Caspian two ways: First comes my attempt at a traditional review, largely void of book comparisons. Then more of a movie-book open forum, filled with SPOILERS, with thoughts on the various similarities and differences. Here we go...

In case you haven't seen the trailer, Prince Caspian occurs one year after The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. One year of time in the Pevensies' world, but over a thousand years in Narnia. The four children soon get to Narnia, where they soon find themselves in the midst of a conflict between Narnians and the Telmarines, an enemy intent on their destruction. The titular character is a young Telmarine who sides with the Narnians and hopes to restore their glory, although he is still learning about their plight and history.

Much like its predecessor, Prince Caspian effectively creates the world of Narnia, complete with anthropomorphic creatures, both familiar and mythical. With improved CGI, the wizards at WETA have created several impressive characters, like Trufflehunter the Badger. Others, like Reepicheep and Pattertwig, seem more cartoonish, but some of that can be chalked up to the mere curiosity of large talking rodents. Establishing this world is vital, because the entire appeal of the movie, to all parties, depends upon this engaging culture.

The movie generates several fantastic movie moments ranging from a rearing centaur to Lucy's wide-eyed face of wonder. The ability to do both big and small moments well keeps the film moving from start to finish. The battle scenes are generally impressive, longer and more intense than LWW, but still lighter than Lord of the Rings, which is obviously a model for this movie. What makes Caspian interesting are the soft scenes in between, when you learn of characters' inner turmoil and motivations, and you are more likely to hear the smile-inducing beauty of familiar lines quoted directly from the book. Having said that, nearly all of the characters could use a little fleshing out. Most of them find their key note or two and play it a little too often, and conflict seems occasionally forced. With five primary characters plus several key supporting roles, the screen time for each is limited, a necessary but unfortunate evil that results in the partial misrepresentation of a few participants.

Without delving too deeply into the comparisons (see below), I will say that during the movie, many of the deviations from the book seemed to make sense cinematically, and a few other creations were executed well enough despite their seeming betrayal of the book. In the end, the pure Narnia-ness of everything overpowered the occasional raised eyebrow and allowed me to enjoy the unique world portrayed on screen.

LWW was clearly a better movie for those who had cherished the book. In many ways, Prince Caspian is the opposite. Book loyalists may be driven mad by the variations, even though the movie itself is cumulatively better.

Bottom Line: I loved the movie, not in a this-is-the-best-movie-ever sort of way, but because of how much the story and characters mean to me. But it was still a pretty good movie. 8 of 10.

Ratings note: There's no way this should have been rated merely PG. Many thought LWW should have been PG-13, and this is much more violent. With the exception of a semi-seen decapitation, it isn't very graphic, but it is violent. Don't take young kids.


Now, on to more entertaining things...

***MAJOR SPOILER ALERT!!!***

There were plenty of changes, both big and small. Although the big ones will gain more notoriety, the small ones bugged me more. Let's take a look...

--As I mentioned above, on the whole, I'm okay with most of the changes. Quite frankly, a straightforward adaptation of the book would have been fairly dull. There isn't much conflict, on an interpersonal or intercultural scale, which would have made for a movie that would interest the book-lovers, but alienate the general public. I don't agree with everything that was altered, but I do understand the cinematic reasons behind many of the changes.

--While much of the book is told in flashback, the movie runs the stories parallel, which is a very good decision. The opening sequence of Caspian fleeing the castle is excellent, quickly sucking the viewer into the world of Narnia.

--The most obvious addition is the raid on Miraz' castle, which in the book is merely a quickly discarded suggestion by Reepicheep. However it worked very well in the movie, allowing for some sweet scenes involving eagles/griffins and various other fighting Narnians. It also eliminated the one weakness of the book, which is the deus ex machina feel that the Pevensies bring when they quickly end the succinct conflict. The battle and its fallout also adds to the contrived Peter-Caspian issues the movie portrays. I was okay with this whole sequence, because it worked well within the movie, and it was entertaining to see familiar characters in new and exciting circumstances.

--When the trailer showed the White Witch, I was a little concerned, since the only mention of her in the book was when Nikabrik fondly mentions her as a possibility of their cause. In the movie, that comment is expanded into a scene in which two creatures use Dark Magic to revive her. With lines pulled straight from the book, they nearly seduce both Caspian and Peter into her trap. This scene was brilliant, a great dramatic addition. It also let Edmund pull off perhaps my favorite swordfighting move of the film, when he raced up a couple steps before whirling and crashing his sword down on the head of the pursuing werewolf, before going on to save the day.

--My only problem with this scene is one that pervades the movie: Edmund is more Peter than Peter is. While Peter does make one bad decision in the book, it is an anomaly, not a character flaw. The movie plays Peter and Caspian off each other frequently, and Peter is usually portrayed in a less flattering light. He should be the High King, demanding and giving respect, not making multiple ill-fated choices. To me, these alterations are more disappointing than adding a massive battle, because they violate the spirit of the book, the maintenance of which is the key in adapting literature to the big screen.

--C.S. Lewis was very intentional not to include Susan and Lucy in battles. Maybe this seems a bit old-fashioned now, but I was still cringing as Susan again waded into the thick of war, going all Legolas with her bow and arrow. Even Lucy became slightly involved, which was even more disturbing. I admit that Susan's role in particular was consistent and worked fairly well, but like the tweaks to Peter's character, felt that it violated the spirit of the book a good deal.

--Caspian himself is played around age 20, which is about six years older than he is in the book. But given the movie that was being made, he had to be 20. A 14-year old Caspian would not have fit into the more violent movie. I think he also should have had golden hair, per Voyage of the Dawn Treader, but I can't say that bothered me much. Lucy was also blonde in LWW, but I always thought of her as brunette for some reason. Plus Georgie Henley captures her sense of innocence and wonder so perfectly that I could care less.

--From reading one message board, plenty of people are bent out of shape by the Caspian-Susan romantic angle, particularly by her goodbye kiss. I would also rather the whole arc have been omitted, but at least it didn't come out of nowhere at the end. Like many other changes, it was executed well enough via numerous hints throughout the film. I was perhaps more annoyed that Susan would flat-out lie to the boy at the train station. I suspect that Lewis would frown more upon a character violation of that ilk.

--I know there were plenty of other omissions, but most were logical. Yes, it would have been great to see the dance on the lawn or the party that Susan and Lucy had with the woodfolk. But scenes like that, although fascinating, would not have advanced the story much. When a book, even a short one like Prince Caspian, is compressed into a 2:20 movie, scenes like that have to go.

Had Peter been portrayed better (it may have something to do with the actor, who never struck me as exceedingly Peter-like) and his invented conflict with Caspian played better, I might have been perfectly content. As it was I was still satisfied. I am extremely excited for Voyage of the Dawn Treader, which will feature the two younger Pevensies, the most likable of the quartet. I think Voyage is the most movie-friendly of all the books, with plenty of opportunities for exceptional scenes and sequences, driven by both action and dialogue.

I am Iron Man.

And so it begins. The summer movie season is upon us. Let's roll.

(My Top Ten of 2007 is coming...I promise.)

Marvel Comics continues its assault on the big screen with Iron Man, a different sort of superhero movie that successfully finds a unique niche within a genre bordering on staleness.

I think that for the majority of moviegoers, myself included, the character of Iron Man does not possess the potent mythos of more popular characters like Batman or Superman. There haven't been crazy successful films or television shows to enhance Iron Man's legacy to my generation. I knew the ten-word backstory -- Tony Stark...rich, smart guy...caught in a war...supersuit -- but that was about it. So the movie's challenge was seducing fence-sitters like me, to succeed where heroes like Spider-man and The Fantastic Four failed. In the end, the anonymity may have helped, luring people in as the movie revealed the story of an intriguing hero.

The movie's appeal stems from its star, Robert Downey, Jr., who seems like an odd superhero choice initially, but given the playfully dramatic tone of the movie, he is a perfect fit. Stark is no gentleman, but rather a Bond-esque playboy, wild yet likable, appealing to the bad boy in everyone, and Downey drills the part. From his work blooms an irreverent tone that encompasses the whole movie, all the way down to the electric guitar-infused soundtrack. Downey brands the movie with his humor, but rounds it out with his dramatic ability. One particular mid-movie scene is mesmerizing as Downey explains the reasons and emotions behind Stark's decisions. That scene exhibits what separates Iron Man from most comic book movies: the sincerity of the serious moments. Adding to the singularity is the way that Downey lends an element of high society that mixes oddly with the harsh reality of the war in Afghanistan. It is a strange juxtaposition, much different than the consistently dark world of Batman or the idealized world of Superman. Although jarring at first, the end result is that the realism grounds the movie, eliminating any pretentious air while also preventing a descent into camp.

Origin stories frequently make for the best comic book movies, because the required background tales add dimensions and levels of believability, as they do here. The origin story in Iron Man enhances the overall pacing, which is excellent, beginning at the beginning and building throughout to a timely final act. The movie clocks in at just over two hours, perfect for a good piece of entertainment like this.

Let's hope that the rest of summer's promising slate lives up to the hype as well as Iron Man.

Bottom Line: As the first movie of the summer season, Iron Man may get the benefit of a doubt, but so be it. It's a great ride. 8 of 10 on my newly revised (and soon to be explained) rating scale.

Cloverfield.

Cloverfield is the brainchild of producer J.J. Abrams, the man behind other cult-ish media like television's Lost and Alias. The exceptional first trailer established the simple premise. Something attacks New York City; chaos ensues. That preview combined with a well-executed buzz-inducing marketing strategy to create the rare eagerly anticipated January release.

What is Cloverfield? Much of the movie’s entertainment is derived from its mystery, so all you get is: something attacks New York city; chaos ensues. If you're worried about this being an I Am Legend retread, forget about that. In a way this is the opposite of I Am Legend. Much of that movie was a slow build, not so much about the action as the psychological side of isolation and determination; this is different. The first half hour is far too long and uninteresting as it introduces the main characters, a group of twenty-something yuppies at a going-away party in New York City. You could show up thirty minutes late and not miss a thing. Then a seismic event occurs, triggering mild panic that soon morphs into complete bedlam, and the fast-paced remainder of the movie unfolds in quasi-real time.

All of this so far may sound (and is) mildly interesting, but the selling point of Cloverfield is this: the movie is shot in the first person, as though from a personal camcorder. There are no wide shots, no big pictures to set the scene, and nothing to relate the scope of what might be happening. The camera is always held by one of the characters, unless it is momentarily dropped or set down. The movie even features cut-in portions of what was previously on the tape before the fateful day's events were recorded. The shaky picture often makes Bourne Supremacy look stable and provides only a partial view of the various occurrences, a clever technique that is both intriguing and annoying in its unconventionality. Though the idea is not completely novel (see: The Blair Witch Project), such an approach is unique enough to entertain on its own merit. It’s actually the best part of the movie, even though the lack of full information is often frustrating. Since the camera tracks the same people throughout the movie, the humanity should be a main hook. However none of the main characters are remotely interesting or sympathetic. Thus the human drama is disappointingly minimal, and the narrative power of the movie is almost non-existent, nowhere near the brilliant concept’s potential.

With its handheld camera and viral internet marketing strategy, Cloverfield is undoubtedly trying to capitalize on and connect with the YouTube generation. The approach fails in part because handheld shots work far better in a secondary or tertiary role. As the primary method of informing, such a process can be as bothersome as it is creative. With that aspect inconsistently entertaining and the catastrophe never entirely explained, the movie's momentum occasionally falters, forcing one to more deeply ponder what the heck is happening.

The anticipatory bar is set high enough that Cloverfield has very little chance of living up to the hype. But the problem is not the massive buildup, but that the movie itself is simply not very interesting beyond its excellent cinematographical gimmick and the big question of WHAT IS IT? Perhaps those who have absorbed themselves in the web chatter surrounding the movie will think otherwise.

Bottom Line: Cloverfield gets a borderline recommendation for the filmmaking experiment, but the story sinks otherwise. 5 of 10.

P.S. Rumors are that a sequel may be in store, with the intent of showing the entire debacle from a different person’s video camera, which would be another interesting experiment.

Juno.

Independent films are an interesting breed. Made outside the mainstream studio structure, the best ones compensate for their lower production value with a better story and characters. Every year an indie or two does captures the collective fascination of critics and the public by doing so. This year's darling is Juno, the name of the newly pregnant teenage girl around whom the simple story revolves. (Audio review here.)

Like many such films, Juno's strengths lie in its unique characters. Foremost among them is the titular one, who has a singular vernacular and attitude that carries the movie. As she decides what to do with the child, she must also deal with the various reactions from her family and friends. But rather than become depressed or reclusive, Juno instead chooses a positive approach, dealing with her issues directly and responsibly. This leads to a relatively sunny take on subjects often approached in a dark or politically charged manner. The movie does tell you what to think about issues; it does not argue strongly either way; it just tells you what characters are doing, and gives a little of their rationale, somewhat like Clint Eastwood's phenomenal Million Dollar Baby a few years back.

On one hand, making light of serious situations like abortion and divorce feels wrong. Conversely, the ability and opportunity to laugh at potentially overbearing situations is a relief, and it is part of what makes us human. While such reactions likely would not be appropriate in reality, movies are not reality, but an escape in which a little levity is more than appropriate.

From the guitar-laced harmonic strains of its soundtrack to the aforementioned quirky characters, Juno is a quintessential indie flick. Like Garden State, it has a few transcendent glimpses into the human soul, but they are too few and far between to carry the movie to extreme heights. Like Little Miss Sunshine, it places quirky characters into unusual and often comic circumstances, but the humorous moments here do not approach the hilarity of Little Miss Sunshine. Most of the comedy is based upon the unique dialogue or the continual series of culture clashes between Juno and everyone, which are amusing throughout.

Some critics (Roger Ebert) are hailing Juno as the year's best film, which is a drastic overstatement. Such grand labels are a joke, and a statement on how monotonous comedies have become. Its ipseity amidst the dramatic leanings of most Oscar contenders makes the movie better and more enjoyable than it actually should be. Juno is a cool breeze drifting through an open window, not an eye-popping blast from the air conditioner. It is enjoyable and well-crafted, not the best film of the year, maybe a fringe contender for the top ten.

Bottom Line: The movie is equivalent to its main character: cute and likeable, but lacking in a few areas. Recommended primarily for indie fans. 7 of 10.

Side Note: As I mentioned in an earlier comment, after this year's Oscars, I'm blowing up my rating system and starting anew. I'm tired of giving everything a seven.

No Country for Old Men.

No Country for Old Men is a not an overhyped blockbuster movie. If you have seen the trailer, you probably thought it looked rather strange. You would be right, but in a wonderful way. (Audio review here.)

The movie is difficult to pigeonhole, but the story, set in 1980 in rural Texas, is fairly straightforward. Josh Brolin plays Llewelyn Moss, a rugged native who stumbles across a deserted murder scene where he discovers and absconds with a case full of money. From that point on, two men head up two very different methods of pursuit. Tommy Lee Jones is small town sheriff Ed Tom Bell (phenomenal name), who is trying to figure out what happened. Javier Bardem, whom you might recognize from The Sea Inside or a small role in Collateral, is a ferociously single-minded individual who has been hired by less than scrupulous people to track down the missing cash.

The movie is directed by the Coen Brothers, who have put together high quality offbeat films like O Brother Where Art Thou, Fargo, and Blood Simple. In those movies and many of their others, the brothers combine familiar movie elements into a single amalgam that defies being defined as a single genre. With No Country for Old Men, they have done the same thing, creating a movie that might be best described as a neo-western. Its deliberate pace, scenic framing, and South Texas location call to mind classic westerns. The tagline for the movie is that "There are no clean getaways," which implies that this is a heist movie. There are parts of that genre, and there are major components of a chase picture, all tweaked to fit the technologically crude era of 1980.

Now, that's the setup, but is this offbeat movie any good? The critics sure think so. Plenty of critics societies have already named this the best picture of 2007, including groups from from New York, Chicago, Boston, Dallas, D.C., and the National Board of Review. It's also probably the current favorite to win the Best Picture Oscar, for praiseworthy reasons that are easy to spot and completely justified.

The three lead performances have grabbed the headlines, and understandably so. Javier Bardem is absolutely terrifying in his atypical villainous role. There is no gimmicky mask or superpower, just pure evil. With merely a look or a stride, he exudes menace, more force of nature than mere bad guy. He is a bad dude, both fantastic and frightening. Because Bardem is so good, he overshadows Josh Brolin, who disappears into his self-confident Texas denizen, playing the chasee with a confidence that makes him an excellent anti-hero. Tommy Lee Jones is stellar as usual. He embodies a world-weary sheriff with one of the best combinations of drawl and lingo that you will ever hear. His drawl is accompanied by a script that is taken in large part directly from the book on which the film is based. The words are rife with a vernacular that could not be more perfect, eliciting grins from the viewer with both their humor and suitability. Even when you don't know what is said, you know precisely what it means. Of these three turns, Bardem has won many awards already, and will almost certainly be nominated for and win an Academy Award. Even though Brolin and Jones have not yet received many accolades, both are worthy of such honors; the problem being that that they are frequently eclipsed by Bardem's chilling portrayal.

Due to the magnetic acting of the leads and the character actors, who are great as they look and sound as though they have spent their entire lives baking in the dry heat near the Mexican border, the movie is extremely compelling despite a deliberate pace and almost no background music during its two-hour running length. Most chase-type movies are fast-paced and action-packed, leaving little time for suspense to grow; this is the opposite. There are no quick-cutting action scenes, but instead heart-pounding scenes that slowly ramp up the tension. Those intense parts are complemented by quieter scenes of conversation or investigation that maintain a foreboding dramatic undertone of upcoming conflict. While the film loses some of its building momentum late in the story, and the denouement does not quite match the brilliance of the preceding hundred minutes, the closing moments remain appropriate for a movie that doesn't offer any easy questions or answers.

All in all, this is a movie that is definitely worthy of the countless honors that it is receiving from critics across the country. Assuming the writer's strike doesn't waylay the Oscars, I suspect that this will be the frontrunner for Best Picture, and I'd bet a good chunk of money that Bardem will snag a Best Supporting Actor trophy. His performance and the film on the whole stand out from the year's crowd and are worth seeing, not for the popcorn movie crowd, but for fans of good, well-crafted cinema and story-telling.

Bottom Line: One of the best of the year. 8 of 10.

Disclaimer: This movie is rated R, for pervasive blood and brutal violence, and to a lesser extent, language. DO NOT take kids to this movie. Some adults won't want to see it either.

You are not alone.

I Am Legend debuted last weekend with a monstrous $77 million weekend, but is an atypical Will Smith blockbuster, largely bereft of the slam-bang action and/or comedy common to his big movies like Men in Black or Enemy of the State. (Audio review here.)

As learned from the tagline and excellent first trailer, the premise is simple: Smith is Dr. Robert Neville, the last man left in a desolate New York City, but he is not alone. Someone or something lingers, a mystery that drives the first hour, which is absolutely fantastic. With the exception of a few flashbacks that gradually answer the hows and whys generated by the plot progression, Smith interacts with no one except Sam, his loyal German Shepherd.

In this regard, I Am Legend is a cousin to the amazing Cast Away. While their respective tones are drastically different, both are set on islands void of humanity. Instead of a volleyball, Smith anthropormorphizes a dog. Hanks wrestled with inner demons on his deserted island, Smith confronts outer demons of some sort. The difference in supplies is noteworthy, and the two main characters are driven by widely disparate motivations, but the isolated survival instinct is similar, and watching Smith stretch himself as an actor is extremely enjoyable. Smith's character still possesses elements of the cocky, wise-cracking nature that moviegoers know well, but with merely a glance or a twitch, his confident veneer often cracks to reveal the effects of his time spent alone. Seeing that uncharacteristic vulnerability is initially disorienting, because we're not used to seeing a hero crack like this, but the awkwardness soon yields to awe at the powerhouse solo performance.

Aside from Smith's turn, the highlights of the movie are the breathtaking shots of a desolate New York City. We've seen the empty streets of a booming metropolis before, in movies like Vanilla Sky and 28 Days Later, but this is different. Not only is everything deserted, but also overgrown and eroded by nature and time. The minimal music and slow-moving cameras allow for an eerie and appropriate quiet within the movie, creating a game of I Spy in which one's eyes dart about, searching for familiar landmarks like Jumbotrons or Broadway signs.

The only downside to all this quality is that it doesn't last throughout the entire movie. Without giving too much away, I can say that following a key plot development, the third and final act transforms into a more familiar, action-type of movie, leading to a finale that satisfies, but doesn't quite match the preceding hour-plus. This dissonance is very reminiscent of 2004's Collateral, which similarly enthralled throughout before wimping out at the end, like a color scheme that matches at first glance but clashes upon closer inspection.

If you know what you are in for, you will enjoy the movie more thoroughly. I Am Legend is much more Cast Away than Independence Day, more Signs than Bad Boys. In his best performance yet, Will Smith proves that he has the acting chops to match his pretty face and ripped physique, deepening his own cinematic legend as he frequently carries this movie to great heights.

Bottom Line: Two-thirds of a great movie plus one-third of an average movie equals a good movie. 7 of 10.

Bee Movie and Batman.

As is evident from the trailer, Bee Movie is essentially what might happen if the public persona of Jerry Seinfeld were placed into the three-part body of a bee. Main character Barry B. Benson is Seinfeld, complete with wry comments, high-pitched excitement, and a slight disdain for authority. Unsurprisingly, the plot is a tad strained, but does provide a framework stable enough to sustain the various inevitable punchlines. The movie tastes sweetest when using Seinfeld's jabbing humor to poke fun at either the industrious efficiency of the hive or the oddities of humans. In this regard, Seinfeld shines as usual, leaving the engaged viewer smiling consistently, chuckling frequently, and roaring occasionally.

Determining whether or not you will like Bee Movie is a simple process. If you like Seinfeld's blend of comedy, you'll enjoy it. If you don't care for his observational humor, steer clear. It's really that simple.

Bottom Line: 6 of 10, plus one because I like Seinfeld.

Since the review was truncated, here are two fantastic new Dark Knight movie posters

I particularly love these two as a pair, with the contrast of menace and protection, frozen in what could conceivably be the same moment. Next year, this movie, Indiana Jones 4 (more on that soon), and Prince Caspian are all scheduled within a month. WOW!