Review: "The Hitman's Bodyguard"

I kinda liked “The Hitman’s Bodyguard,” even though it’s a pretty rote, predictable march through all the buddy cop tropes.

Though I guess we should call it a buddy spy flick, since Samuel L. Jackson and Ryan Reynolds don’t play law enforcement types but superspies, the kind who can chop-socky their way through a crowd of bad guys while the camera spins around them, or take out three dudes with three bullets from 100 feet away, while hundreds of the foes’ bullets never seem to find their mark, or if they do it’s a cute little nick that doesn’t slow them down.

It’s frenetic, fast-paced, filled with lots of quips intercut with some rather bloody carnage, Reynolds doing his charming/nervous thing and Jackson dropping a torrent of mother-effers like only he can.

It’s a fun movie. It’s not particularly smart or original; every character fits snugly into their square or round peg. We know the pair are going to hate each other, then grudgingly work together, and wind up as eternal besties.

Gary Oldman turns up as the villain, a Belarussian dictator named Dukhovich who’s on trial in the Hague for war crimes. All the witnesses against him repeatedly turn up dead, so it looks like he’s going to get sprung. Oldman alternates between chilly threats and monomaniacal raving, his cheeks even touched with a spot of pox so the bad guy can be easily picked out. It’s the sort of role Oldman has played a thousand times and could do in his sleep.

Jackson is Darius Kincaid, a legendary assassin who seems to be the last witness left against Dukhovich. Things go badly with the Interpol protection squad, led by tough lieutenant Amelia Roussel (Élodie Yung), making it obvious there’s a rat in their midst.

(Hint: always look for the swarthiest fellow amongst the Caucasians.)

Roussel is forced to call in Michael Bryce, formerly king of the protection agency game and also her ex-boyfriend. His last big gig protecting a Japanese arms dealer ended poorly, so now he’s the bottom of the barrel instead of triple-A rated -- a standard that may or may not actually exist, but one he’s obsessed with reclaiming nonetheless.

It seems Michael and Darius have often been on opposite sides of a sniper rifle from each other, so there’s bad blood. The story (screenplay by Tom O’Connor) turns into a road picture as they are chased over land, air and sea on their way to the Hague, which is going to close the proceedings against Dukhovich unless Darius shows up by 5 o'clock the next day.

(I guess the Hague judges never heard of stays? Or testimony via live video feed?)

According to what I’ve read the budget on this picture was only $30 million, and director Patrick Hughes milks a ton of high-adrenaline action scenes out of that tidy sum. A combination road/boat chase through the canals of Amsterdam was my favorite, a sequence worthy of a Bond flick.

Along the way they fight, give each other the slip, bicker over M.O.’s and lady loves -- Salma Hayek plays Darius’ imprisoned squeeze -- and even sing a couple of songs. Jackson does an off-tune rendition of “Nobody Gets Out Alive,” which I assumed was a classic blues standard, but is actually a new song the actor wrote and performed himself, delivering a much better version for the closing credits that’s worth hanging around for.

It’s the only part of the movie I would deem triple-A rated. The rest is one-and-a-half As, at best. (Aa?)

Video review: "The Space Between Us"

Part science fiction, part road movie, a whole lot angst-y teenage romance, “The Space Between Us” shows the limits of what you can do with a good cast of actors.

Asa Butterfield is a talented young thespian (“Hugo,” “Ender’s Game”), Britt Robertson has stood out in some not-so-great flicks (“The Longest Yard”), and Gary Oldman is, of course, Gary Frickin’ Oldman. Toss in Carla Gugino as a supporting figure, and that’s more talent than most movies can muster.

Alas, the story (screenplay by Allan Loeb) is a mish-mash of random themes and plot threads that don’t weave themselves together in any sort of coherent way. It ends up feeling like a combination of the old David-Bowie-as-space-alien movie, “The Man Who Fell to Earth,” and “E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial,” with a human boy standing in for the cute outworlder being chased by a small army of scientists and law enforcement.

The set-up is that Gardner Elliott (Butterfield) is the first human born on Mars – an accident, as his mother and the leader of the astronaut expedition got herself pregnant shortly before takeoff. Now 16, he’s a super-smart kid with obvious impulse issues and a clinging longing for a chance to walk on Earth -- preferably in the company of a cute teen girl.

Tulsa (Robertson) is the gal in question. They’ve been communicating via video chat and messages for a while. She’s a tough outcast sort, so they share a sense of loneliness.

Through a lot of high-tech hi jinks, Gardner manages to get himself to Earth and, eventually, hook up with Tulsa. Unfortunately, after growing up in a low-gravity atmosphere, his body isn’t very suited to Earth’s weight. Ignoring the advice from the NASA eggheads, he and Tulsa run off together for an adventure.

After landing the girl, tops on his list is finding out who is father is. All Gardner has to go by is a photo he found in his mother’s stuff. (She died, of course, because otherwise we wouldn’t have a movie.)

Leading the chase for them is Nathaniel Shepherd (Oldman), a super-rich entrepreneur who dreamt up the Mars colony years ago, but has become something of a recluse ever since. He’s very fidgety and prone to neurotic outbursts, and seems able to command government troops and resources with a phone call, for some reason.

Director Peter Chelsom (“Hannah Montana: The Movie”) can’t manage to sustain a consistent tone to the movie or a steady emotional keel from his actors, so it’s not surprising that they seem to go off in different directions from each other. For Butterfield, that means coming across rather flat, while Oldman is a whirligig of haphazard behavior. Robertson tries to break out of the teen romcom prison bars the movie puts her behind.

“The Space Between Us” is a stellar idea for a film that never achieves liftoff.

Bonus features include five deleted scenes and an alternate ending. There is also a feature-length commentary by Chelsome and a 4-minute featurette, “Love.”

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Review: "The Space Between Us"

“The Space Between Us” is a cosmically flawed science fiction love story filled with talented actors striving mightily against bad material.

Some of the scenarios and dialogue ring so false, even the talents of Gary Oldman can’t save him from seeming preposterous at times. Asa Butterfield, who anchors the movie as the first human born on Mars who years to travel to Earth, has been terrific in fare like “Hugo” and the underrated “Ender’s Game.” Here he's a bit stiff and remote.

And Britt Robertson has often been the best thing about some not very good movies like “Tomorrowland” and “The Longest Ride.” She tries hardest of all, attempting to craft a character out of meet-cute tropes and puppy-love-on-the-run contretemps.

(Though somebody needs to tell her people that her days of passing as a teen are behind.)

I didn’t buy this movie for a minute. I didn’t swallow the premise, I didn’t believe in the characters, I wasn’t engaged in the plot the film puts them through. The whole affair is just tiresome and often ridiculous.

It plays like a combination of “The Man Who Fell to Earth” and any one of a dozen teenybopper romances.

Butterfield plays Gardner Elliot. In a long, tedious and largely unnecessary exposition, we learn about how his mother (Janet Montgomery) was the lead astronaut on the mission in 2018 to permanently colonize the red planet. Except she made a little mistake and got pregnant right before the launch. (Apparently none of the 8,500 physical tests they put astronauts through detected this.)

The heads of NASA and the Genesis company that conceived the Mars mission decide to cover up the baby's existence as a potential PR disaster, especially after Gardner's mom dies during child birth. Oldman plays Nathaniel Shepherd, the Steve Jobs-like head honcho who's always flinging his hands in the air and shouting in an exasperated manner.

Flash forward 16 years, and Gardner is now a hyper-smart, mischievous kid who longs to go back to Earth -- in no small part because he's got a gal pal with whom he exchanges text and video messages. (Despite taking nearly a year to travel between the planets, apparently by 2034 data can ping back and forth without even any buffering.)

Tulsa (Robertson) is a typical tough, alienated girl struggling through high school. She takes her nickname from her hometown, because here she has absolutely no friends. There's this weird scene where she wanders into the band room and starts noodling on an electric piano, and some boys peer over the edge of the window outside to laugh at her. Then they literally chase her out of the school as she tears off angrily on her motorcycle.

Haven't these boys ever seen someone playing a piano before. (Especially in the band room.) Or don't they just have better things to do? It plays out like a fourth-grader's conception of what high school must be like.

Let's skip ahead. Gardner manages to get himself to Earth, but his body isn't suited for the heavier gravity. He skips out from the NASA facility to hunt down Tulsa, and pretty soon they're on the lam while the science guys and lawmen are on their tail. Tagging along with the chasers is Carla Gugino as Kendra, a scientist who acted as Gardner's surrogate mom while they were on Mars.

The second half of the movie is one big chase, interrupted by smooches and the sort of deep, abiding love that normally forms over the course of two days. Gardner and Tulsas commit an astonishing number of crimes along the way, including stealing innumerable cars.

This is low-budget science fiction, so the world of 2034 looks astonishing similar to the one we have right now. The cars, the clothes, the smartphones and tablets -- they didn't even dress it up a little bit. Heck, the astronauts even ride in rockets that wouldn't look out of place in "Apollo 13." The one concession is laptops with clear cases, which are kinda cool.

After hooking up with Tulsa, Gardner's big quest is to find his father. The only evidence he has is a photo of his mom with him at a beach house. I won't say more, other than if you haven't figured out the ending by the midway point, you need some lessons on Screenwriting 101. (Allan Loeb gets the blame... er, the credit, for the script.)

"The Space Between Us" contains a few nice moments, mostly intimate little cues where Butterfield and Robertson are allowed to behave like real people rather than characters in a movie. Most of the rest is otherworldly bad.

Review: "Man Down"

“Man Down” presents us with a dystopian nightmare, interspersed with flashbacks to what preceded it, and dares us to try to find where the true horror lies.

This ambitious but wandering war drama from director Dito Montiel (“Empire State”), who also co-wrote the screenplay with Adam G. Simon, stars Shia LaBeouf as Gabriel, a young but hardened Marine who is searching for his son. As the story opens he and fellow soldier/best friend Devin (Jai Courtney) are wandering a blasted landscape of crumbled buildings and reeking death. Their uniforms are mostly tatters, their buzz cuts have given way to long hair and beards.

Their mission, whatever it once was, is now centered on reuniting Gabriel with his family. We know from flashbacks that they previously served together in Afghanistan, but some colossal misfortune has since befallen the world. They whisper about infections, interrogate a scatterbrained scavenger (Clifton Collins Jr.) for information, and keep going.

Meanwhile, we see snippets of Gabriel’s seemingly idyllic life before the war, marriage to spunky, strong Natalie (Kate Mara) and tranquil father/son bonding with Jonathan (Charlie Shotwell). Plus the easy camaraderie with Devin, how they grew up practically as brothers.

But there are also scenes of Gabriel being interviewed by a Captain Payton (Gary Oldman), who keeps pressing him to talk about “the incident.” What at first seems to be a military debriefing becomes something like a counseling session, and we wonder how this question-and-answer duel fits in with his life before and after the apocalypse.

LaBeouf has grown thicker and grimmer after his early spate of roles as the fresh young thing, and he wears it well. He chews his dialogue, playing Gabriel as a guy who’s not terribly bright but earnest and true. When he tells the captain he feels “betrayed” by what went down in that sandy village, it exposes all sorts of emotional roots sunk deep.

LaBeouf has gotten a lot more attention for his publicity stunts/performance art/whatever you want to call it the last few years. But here is an actor with talent and dedication, searching for the right role. This one isn’t it, but in his screen presence we sense that yearning.

I can’t say more about “Man Down” without dissecting it into death. There are some surprises that aren’t terribly surprising if you’ve been paying attention, as well as some things we expected that don’t come to pass. It’s a well-meaning film but not an especially well executed one.

Video review: "Dawn of the Planet of the Apes"

Technically, I’m not sure if “Dawn of the Planet of the Apes” is the sequel to the prequel to the “Apes” movies from the 1960 and ‘70s, or what. But I do know it was the most entertaining movie I saw this summer.

The follow-up to “Rise of the Planet of the Apes” is set 10 years down the road, when humans have mostly died off due to disease and intelligent apes are now the Earth’s prime species. Represented entirely through computer animation, the chimps, gorillas, baboons, orangutans, etc. squint and snarl, bicker and bond, and also speak English when the mood strikes them.

Caesar (Andy Serkis) is the leader who championed the uprising against the humans, and now suspects they’re extinct. But then Marcus (Jason Clarke) shows up on the doorstep to their forest village with a band of other people in tow. After some convincing, Caesar reluctantly agrees to help them turn the power back on at the nearby hydroelectric dam, but it soon becomes clear that the coming conflict is unavoidable – both between and within species.

The human characters are a bit blah, but the interactions between the apes are electric. Caesar has a deep bond of trust with his chief lieutenant, Koba (Toby Kebbell), but when the latter encounters humans, it triggers his memories of being medically experimented upon. Similarly, on the human side there are those who fear the apes and think it would be better if they were just wiped out.

With its mix of soulful reflection and engaging sci-fi, “Dawn of the Planet of the Apes” was the best big-budget spectacle this past summer had to offer.

Video extras are quite extensive. There are deleted scenes, a production gallery of photos, feature-length commentary track by director Matt Reeves, and eight making-of featurettes.

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Review: "Dawn of the Planet of the Apes"

Andy Serkis, the actor who has become famous for his motion-capture performances as Gollum in "The Lord of the Rings" trilogy and as Caesar the chimpanzee in "Rise of the Planet of the Apes," receives top billing for reprising is role in the sequel to the latter.

This is notable for a couple of reasons: I believe it's the first time a performer represented digitally through CGI has been credited as the lead actor in a movie also starring live-action performances. This had already been the case with all-CG movies like "Avatar," which essentially were animated films. But here the motion-capture acting stands right beside the live actors -- indeed, it stands taller.

This is appropriate, since the heart and soul of the story in "Dawn of the Planet of the Apes" is about the simians, with the humans acting as the sidekicks. "Rise" featured some chimps and apes blended with puppetry and special effects, but here the apes are all CG.

How good is the digital representation of apes? They seemed as real to me as the humans sharing the frame. Their eyes crinkle with emotion, their brows lower with anger, their throats burble with both simian noises and human-made speech.

If there's a knock to be made against this movie, it's that the live actors don't make as much of an impact as Serkis & Co. Other than Gary Oldman, who has an all-too-brief role as an anxious ex-soldier, most of them are somewhat flat.

That's OK; "Dawn" is still the best summer movie of 2014, with a combination of terrific action scenes and a genuinely moving story about the conflict between apes and people in the aftermath of an apocalypse, and how inhumanity is a trait both tragically share.

Set 10 years down the road from the last movie, "Dawn" sees most of the human population decimated by a biological warfare agent known as the simian flu, and the wars that followed. As the story opens, Caesar has become the grizzled leader of an entire colony of intelligent apes. They hunt other animals for food, and have built a huge wooden village in the forests around San Francisco.

Though they can speak halting English, Caesar and his tribe prefer to communicate through the sign language they were initially taught by humans. They also carry over other of mankind's affectations, such as adorning their faces with war-paint while hunting and riding horses.

It's been two years since they last saw any men, so they doubt they still live. But then they stumble across a party of humans led by Marcus (Jason Clarke), who are on a mission to get the old electric dam power generator working again. Humans survivors have gathered in a large tower in San Fran, but their fuel is nearly run out.

Misunderstanding and fear initially rule the interactions between man and ape, and blood is shed. But Caesar, worried that a war will mean the death of many of his kind, bends to their requests for help.

This does not sit well with members of his tribe, including his teenage (in temperament, if not years) son, Blue Eyes, and Koba (Toby Kebbell), his right-hand ape. As we know from the last movie, Koba was left scarred and blind in one eye from human medical experiments, and he's not about to forgive and forget.

Some of the most powerful sections in the movie depict the growing conflict between Koba and Caesar. In one scene, Koba sneers at Caesar letting Marcus and his band perform their "human work," touching his wounds as example of that kind's deeds. But they always make up, which consists of the subservient ape bowing before his leader and offering his open hand for a grasp of friendship, indicating he's been forgiven.

But others are not so accommodating, and soon the fight escalates despite the efforts of Caesar and Marcus.

The action scenes are kinetic and hefty; we can almost feel the weight of the great gorillas and chimps as they swing from branch to branch -- or girder to girder when they cross the Golden Gate Bridge into the humans' domain. Caesar hates guns and refuses to use them, though later some of his kind make darker choices -- as do humans.

(These machine guns, like seemingly all movie iterations, never have to be reloaded.)

There's one terrific early scene where Caesar brings his entire army to the doorstep of the humans. They just sit there, astride horses or on their feet, staring with disdain at their once-betters. Then Caesar opens his mouth and bellows a warning, and all the humans gasp at what they've just heard. You can see etched on their faces the moment their entire worlds crashed down upon them.

Rounding out the cast on the human end are Keri Russell as Marcus' wife, a CDC scientist; Marcus' artistically bent son (Kodi Smit-McPhee); and Carver (Kirk Acevedo), who is Koba's human counterpart, barely able to conceal his hatred of apes. Also making an impression among the apes is Karin Konoval as Maurice, the gentle giant orangutan who is the intellectual leader of the tribe, teaching the younglings and acting as Caesar's conscious.

New director Matt Reeves ("Cloverfield") ably takes over from Rupert Wyatt, who departed to work on another project. Holdover screenwriters Rick Jaffa and Amanda Silver are joined by Mark Bomback, who reportedly did a script polish.

Smart and soulful, humanistic yet full of verve, "Dawn of the Planet of the Apes" is a great piece of entertainment.

Video review: "Robocop"

I’m not mortally offended by Hollywood wanting to remake one of the seminal movies of my youth, but did they have to be so tame about it? This mincing, PG-13-rated sci-fi action/drama feels like it’s had all its precious bodily fluids slurped out of it. The result is cool-looking but rather unexciting.

The story is familiar: in a dystopian near-future, noble Detroit cop Alex Murphy (Joel Kinnaman) is blown apart in the line of duty. He’s put back together as cyborg by a nefarious corporation that runs the police services, and is sold to the public as their savior. But there’s more to the story, with Michael Keaton playing the villain who cares more about maximizing revenues than actually improving lives.
The new look of Robocop is quite a sight, with black armor and a red eye slit. Though no one’s ever satisfactorily explained to me why they leave his lower face exposed.

Rounding out the cast are Abbie Cornish as Mrs. Murphy; Michael K. Williams as Murphy’s partner; Samuel L. Jackson as a demagogic TV yapper; Gary Oldman as a conflicted scientist; and Jackie Earle Haley as a mercenary stooge.

Murphy/Robocop comes across more as a video game avatar than an authentic tortured soul. And the over-the-top bloody violence so intrinsic to the 1987 movie are replaced with CGI-heavy eye candy.
The new “Robocop” isn’t a terrible flick. But it commits the one crime that the enduring memory of the original renders unforgiveable: it’s forgettable.

The movie comes with a decent enough mix of video extras. There are a handful of deleted scenes, schematics of Robocop and other Omnicorp creatures and hardware, and three making-of featurettes.

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Review: "Robocop"

In 1987 I was a pimply teen slinging/sweeping popcorn in a movie theater when the boss asked me to help set up a stand-up promo for an upcoming film in the lobby. As we fit together the various cardboard pieces, the name and chrome-domed image of "Robocop" came into focus.

We couldn't stop laughing. It looked like the goofiest, dumbest thing we'd ever seen. The display continued to provoke titters and jokes the next few weeks. We'd walk past it in a herky-jerky manner, dubbing ourselves "Robo-usher."

Then we saw the movie.

The laughing stopped, and although we'd continue to imitate Robocop, it was now performed with reverence instead of mockery.

Director Paul Verhoeven's "Robocop" instantly became an iconic film for a number of reasons. There was the kitschy premise of a man-turned-android, plus of course some very hard-edged violence -- initially earning an X rating from the MPAA -- that ping-ponged between cartoonish and nauseating. There was the incredibly cynical, sardonic view of a near-future Detroit ruled by Machiavellian corporations and dimwitted media info-tainment.

But at the center was the surprisingly soulful journey of the main character, an everyman cop who gains superhero-esque powers but has to give up a huge chunk of his humanity in the process. We cheered Robocop, and we pitied him.

The new remake is thoroughly unnecessary, but that doesn't mean the effort can't yield a good movie, as we saw with the recent reboot of the Spider-man franchise. Director José Padilha, a veteran from Brazil, and rookie screenwriter Joshua Zetumer come up with a promising premise, in which Robocop isn't a cutting-edge breakthrough, but simply a backward-engineered commodity designed to make robot law enforcement palatable to a malleable American public.

In the rest of the world, robots manufactured by Omnicorp run a martial state where even Iran is kept in line by scary machines, including the gargantuan ED-209s from the last film, as well as man-sized EM-208s. But politicians in the U.S. have barred them from policing domestically, resulting in $600 billion annually in lost revenues for CEO Raymond Sellars (Michael Keaton).

The first hour or so is heady stuff, as Detroit detective Alex Murphy (Joel Kinnaman) sees his life turned upside down after an explosion leaves his body in tatters, and comes to grips with the idea of living inside a metal suit. He's certainly got a cool new look, with black armor and a red slit for eyes. (Plus a pair of guns he never has to reload, ever.)

But the movie goes sideways in the second half, with neither the sarcastic humor or the PG-13 action scenes landing with a lot of punch.

Joel Kinnaman is believable as Murphy/Robocop, though he's a mite too pretty to be taken seriously as an anti-hero; the filmmakers repeatedly succumb to temptation to leave his face exposed. (Why exactly do they leave the lower half of his face unprotected?) Gary Oldman is a welcome presence as Dennett Norton, the conflicted scientist put in charge of the Robocop program.

Another thing lacking in the new movie is a hiss-able villain on the order of Clarence Bodicker, the sadistic killer from the original film. Keaton's Sellars is more slimy than hateful, a disreputable Steve Jobs type who likes to control the media. Jackie Earle Haley shows up as Robocop's taunting instructor, but he's a little too mercenary to really get our dander up.

Michael K. Williams and Abbie Cornish are pretty much wasted as, respectively, Murphy's partner and wife, mostly standing on the sidelines and wondering where the man disappeared inside the machine.

Samuel L. Jackson fires surprising blanks as Pat Novack, a demagogic broadcaster who acts as Omnicorp's jingoistic cheerleader. I think the problem is the character is so close to the unhinged talking heads we see on cable news every night, he's too familiar to serve as a cautionary tale.

I don't hate the idea of Hollywood remaking one of the seminal movies from my formative years, but the result is too tame to justify its own existence. There is one jaw-dropping moment in the film that hints of darker, grander themes to come. But it's soon forgotten in a wave of video-game shootouts and one-liners recycled from 1987.

Video review: "The Dark Knight Rises"

The conclusion of the Batman collaboration between director Christopher Nolan and star Christian Bale is a big, ambitious film just like "The Dark Knight." And also like its predecessor, "The Dark Knight Rises" is overburdened with too many supporting characters and secondary plot lines.

As the story opens, it has been eight years since Bruce Wayne last donned the caped crusader's cowl. Peace has reigned throughout the land, but then a mysterious terrorist named Bane (Thomas Hardy) arrives. He handily defeats Batman in personal combat and takes the reins of Gotham City.

Meanwhile, super-thief Selina Kyle (Anne Hathaway) plays the lines of loyalty between the two, whispering ominously about a storm brewing to wipe the city's veil of security away.

The biggest problem with Bane, other than the fact that he pales in comparison to Heath Ledger's Joker, is that his motivations never really come into clear relief. Hardy's choice to play him with an odd speech cadence, coupled with Bane's metallic face mask, also make him difficult to understand.

Familiar faces return, including police commissioner James Gordon (Gary Oldman), loyal Wayne family butler Alfred (Michael Caine) and weapons guru Lucius Fox (Morgan Freeman). New on the block is Joseph Gordon-Levitt as a young police detective whose importance becomes clearer late in the going.

It's still a worthy piece of filmmaking, especially for those who like their superhero tales in the dark-and-portentous mode. But I can't help thinking the finale would've been better stripped down and sleeker.

In terms of extras, Blu-ray is the only way to go for the serious videophile. The DVD comes only with a single featurette chronicling Bruce Wayne's journey from zero to hero.

The highlight of the Blu-ray edition is "Ending the Knight," a comprehensive making-of documentary examining virtually every aspect of the filmmaking process, from the story concept to special effects. It also includes a gallery of images and a documentary on the Batmobile, chronicling all five of the dark knight's motorized chariots.

Movie: 3 stars out of four
Extras: 3.5 stars

Review: "The Dark Knight Rises"

And so the Batman saga ends, not with a bang but an allegory. Director/co-writer Christopher Nolan has made it clear "The Dark Knight Rises" will be the last movie about the caped crusader -- at least that he will make -- and this knowledge seems to have freed him to make a superhero movie that's different from any other in the genre, one in which the superhero has grown tired of the mask and has to be convinced to put it on again.

It's notable that Christian Bale spends far more screen time out of the Batman costume than in.

It's a big, epic, sprawling movie that, like the last entry four years ago, is too overstuffed with tertiary plot lines and secondary characters for its own good.

And, of course, nothing can replace Heath Ledger's unique, disturbing presence as the Joker. Even though he was captured at the end of the last movie, and at one point Gotham City's prison is busted open for all the criminals to escape, there's no half-hearted (and misguided) attempt to cast another actor in that now-iconic role.

As the story opens, eight years have passed since the events in "The Dark Knight." Wayne has not donned Batman's cowl since then, with the populace mistakenly believing that he killed Harvey Dent, who actually went mad and became Two-Face. Dent has become a symbol of the peaceful good times that have endured since -- thanks in part to some draconian laws put in place in Dent's name.

When we first see Bruce Wayne, he seems to have aged 20 years. He has graying hair and a lined face, and walks around with a cane and a severe limp. He's become a recluse, rarely leaving his mansion despite the urging of loyal butler/henchman Alfred (Michael Caine) to do so. You quit being Batman, Alfred tells him, but you didn't start a new life.

The villain here is Bane, played by Tom Hardy underneath a strange metal mask of tubes and 30 pounds of muscle he put on for the role. Bane is a brilliant terrorist who's utterly unnerving, but whose motives never really come into clear relief. He emerges from a mysterious past, supposedly growing up in darkness inside a pit of a prison, and seems to have dedicated his entire life to destroying Batman and the city he loves. Why? We're never really sure.

When Bane first appears on the scene, Bruce resolves to get back in the game. He is cocky and confident in his gadgets and combat abilities, despite a doctor's assessment that he has no cartilage in his knees and scarred internal organs. He shouldn't even be skiing, let alone tangling with super-strong madmen.

Bane easily defeats Batman in personal combat and exiles him. Bane then steals something really, really powerful that belongs to Bruce Wayne and turns it against Gotham. And then he ... waits five months to unleash the destruction. Which just happens to be enough time for Bruce to convalesce and return to foil his plans.

Hardy makes a few bold performance choices, some of which pay off and some don't. Much has been made about his voice, which can be difficult to understand behind the metallic echo of his mask, which resembles a shark's maw coming at  you. Beyond the comprehension issues, Bane speaks in an oddly-inflected pattern with a stiff sort of formality to it. He also has a habit of placing his hands on the lapels of his coat or armor, like a Dickensian barrister puffing himself up.

The other big addition is Anne Hathaway as Selina Kyle, a slyly seductive jewel thief who tries to walk a risky line between loyalty to Bane and Batman. Neither really trusts her, or her either of them, but there's a connection between her and Bruce Wayne. He represents the 1% and she makes Occupy Wall Street-ish threats about "a storm coming" to wash away the privileged, which supplies an edge to their banter.

I should mention that no one ever actually calls her Catwoman, and she doesn't wear a costume, other than some minimalist sartorial adornment. It's a surprisingly beefier role than you'd expect, and Hathaway has a strong presence in it.

Joseph Gordon-Levitt is another important new character as young police detective John Blake -- or, at least, seemingly important. Blake seems to be everywhere during the movie, popping up to assist Commissioner James Gordon (Gary Oldman) with a key bit of evidence or even fight alongside Batman. But after the movie I started thinking about what purpose Blake plays in the story, and decided he's really not that pivotal at all, except for that part at the end where ... well, you'll see.

Matthew Modine is another new add as Gordon's right-hand man, Ben Mendelsohn plays a mercenary-minded industrialist making a play for Wayne Enterprises, and Marion Cotillard plays Miranda Tate, a former business partner of Wayne's who got burned on a bad business deal.

Lucius Fox (Morgan Freeman), Bruce Wayne's R&D man, returns to the fold, and apparently has spare Batman suits and gear stuffed in just about every corner of Gotham. Most notably is a flying machine that's part helicopter, part jet and all seriously badass.

I saw this film in a genuine IMAX theater at the Indiana State Museum. More than an hour of the 165-minute film was shot on special IMAX film, and when that entire picture opens up from widescreen to a massive six-story wall of spectacle, it's quite tremendous. This one is definitely worth the ticket upsell.

"The Dark Knight Rises" isn't as good as the last film, but I wouldn't call it a disappointment. If anything, its faults arise from being too ambitious, too big and too much. A shorter film that focused on the dynamic between Batman, Bane and Selina Kyle might've been a better fit for this material. But that's the sort of movie you make when you're starting out something big, not wrapping it up.

3 stars out of four

Review: "Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy"

Like its main character, George Smiley, "Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy" plays its cards very close to its vest -- too close, in fact. The result is a nearly affectless espionage tale, a Cold War spy thriller that's chilly and boasts few thrills.

Smiley is refreshingly different from the standard cinematic spy. He's in late middle age, doesn't move in very much of a hurry, eschews guns (most of the time) and has a personality so dry, it's no surprise that his wife, Anne, has left him. Wearing huge owlish eyeglasses and an unctuous mien, Gary Oldman as Smiley resembles a tobacco store clerk more than he does James Bond.

"Tinker" is based on the 1974 novel by John le Carré, unread by me, which was turned into a seven-part BBC miniseries in 1979, with Alec Guinness playing Smiley. With its dense plot and confusing maze of characters -- I was still struggling to keep the names straight by the end -- the story might have been better suited to the episodic rhythms of television than a two-hour movie.

The film begins with the fall of the leader of British Secret Intelligence Services, known only as Control (John Hurt). He had sent one of his top agents, Jim Prideaux (Mark Strong), to Hungary to learn the identity of a double agent at the very top of their leadership. The mission goes awry, Prideaux is shot, and Control and Smiley, his right-hand man, are brought down in the ensuing scandal.

But was the theory of a mole really nonsense? Suffering through a lonely forced retirement, Smiley is given a shot at redemption when the civilian leadership appoints him to learn the truth. This proves quite a challenge, since the four men Control suspected now run "the Circus," as the members of the intelligence agency refer to themselves.

They are: Percy Alleline (Toby Jones), Bill Haydon (Colin Firth), Toby Esterhase (David Dencik) and Roy Bland (Ciarán Hinds).

Alleline would seem to be the most likely suspect, since he openly challenged Control's authority and ended up assuming the position for himself. Alleline has had a great deal of success running "Witchcraft," a super-secret operation that has opened up a pipeline of information from inside the Soviet Union.

Smiley only has a few allies, including a promising young agent, Peter (Benedict Cumberbatch) and an old retiree. He catches a break when Ricki Tarr (Tom Hardy), a rakish spy who first uncovered the theory of the mole and had thought to have gone rogue, turns up at his house.

I won't try to summarize the different twists and turns of the plot, mostly because it remains a blur. It's old-school cloak-and-dagger stuff, with everyone simultaneously suspicious of each other and highly on guard.

Director Tomas Alfredson, the Swede behind the moody vampire drama "Let the Right One In" (which was followed by an American remake), and screenwriters Bridget O'Connor and Peter Straughan seem intent on crafting a film that resembles its protagonist too much.

It's one thing to have the main character be fetchingly mysterious, and quite another to have him remain a total cipher. Despite a fine performance by Oldman, George Smiley has no interior, and serves only to investigate and find things out to further the plot. Watching a movie about him is like playing chess against a computer.

2.5 stars out of four

Reeling Backward: "Sid and Nancy" (1986)

"Sid and Nancy" is a film about repulsion. It's the story of the punk rock movement, which embraced nihilism with a swagger and a sneer, or at least it did in its early days with the Sex Pistols and the rest. Soon The Police were singing ballads and Billy Idol came along to give it a slick MTV veneer, and punk was co-opted and commoditized like a thousand rebellions that came before.

Sid Vicious and Nancy Spungen were not sell-outs. Maybe if they'd lived long enough, they would have embraced being part of regular society instead of spurning it. But they died young, after Nancy was stabbed to death -- mostly likely by Sid -- and he overdosed on heroin in 1979 before his trial for her murder.

The interesting thing about modern pop culture, say since 1955, is how people embrace those who spit on social norms. Rebellion became cool, which is how Sid Vicious and the Sex Pistol could become icons despite their obvious disdain for those who listened to their music and showed up to their concerts.

Even by the Sex Pistols' standards, Sid (Gary Oldman, in his breakout role) was out there. Ostensibly he was their bass player, but even his band mates acknowledged he was a terrible musician who might as well have been playing a different song. When not on stage he was usually drunk or high ... and often on the stage, too. He cut himself with razors and got into fights just for the pleasure of the violence.

Johnny Rotten, the anarchic but calculating frontman for the Pistols played by Andrew Schofield, sums it up by calling Sid "a fabulous disaster."

The film was directed and co-written (with Abbe Wool) by Alex Cox, who had a brief heyday with this film and "Repo Man," and then disappeared deep into low-budget indie obscurity. He approaches the material with energy and wit, though the film doesn't have as much emotional punch as it should.

This is, after all, the story of two people who threw their lives away on drugs and what today we would call co-dependency. Sid and Nancy were in love, or at least what they conceived of as love, but they were too enamored with the rush of heroin and other hard drugs to have much empathy for anyone but themselves. In the film's depiction, Nancy broke up the Sex Pistols because she pulled Sid out of their orbit and into hers.

Something I don't think the movie sufficiently touches on is just how young Nancy and Sid where. They projected a world-weary cool, but they were naifs: Sid was just 21 when he died, and Nancy was a mere 20. Most people that age are considered a smashing success if they've managed to move out of their parents' house -- these two sought to bring the world to its knees when they were still teenagers.

Both Oldman and Webb were around 30 when the movie was made, and those few years make all the difference in terms of capturing the wild, noxious innocence of youthful rebellion. Ironically, if Cox had cast actors who were the appropriate age, they probably couldn't have pulled off the performances.

Oldman lost a lot of weight to play the role, and in one scene where we see Sid and Nancy walking away from the camera, we can see that he's actually thinner than Webb -- who was borderline scary-skinny herself.

Webb is an abrasive presence as Nancy -- so off-putting, in fact, that we wonder what in the world Sid ever saw in her. In my experience people who get into relationships with someone who's openly abusive to them do so because their self-worth is so low: They think they don't deserve any better. Since Sid arrives at the beginning of the movie fully formed, we don't grasp why he was attracted to her, since she so obviously sought only to glom onto somebody -- anybody, really -- who was famous.

Oldman and Webb nail the surface of these people, but we never get inside their hearts and heads. Their characters remain a spectacle, to be amazed at and pitied, but never understood.

Much of the attention about Vicious and Spungen, and by extension this film, centered on the circumstances of her death. But I found that the least interesting thing about the movie. If Sid hadn't knifed her in a haze of drug-induced fighting, then she was already set on the path leading to a similar demise.

Sid's was just the final one of the proverbial thousand cuts.

The film's crowning achievement is depicting the soul-sucking toll that drugs take on the talented and the naive. It's notable that Cox doesn't depict Sid and Nancy actually shooting up until near the end of the film; the lateness serves to underline just how exacting heroin addiction is, since its abusers end up becoming amateur physicians with an encyclopedic knowledge of a wide range of pharmacological effects.

In the beginning, junkies take drugs because they think it intensifies their personality. Later, when they're hooked, they find they need that razor's edge all the time, despite the fact it becomes harder to reach and maintain. Eventually, drugs replace the people they were, and they turn into mere vessels to an all-consuming craving. They become their addiction.

Heroin didn't just kill Sid and Nancy's romance; it overwhelmed and consumed it.

"Sid and Nancy" is an often engrossing tale of human degradation substituting for love. What a horrifying trade to make.

3 stars out of four

Video review: "Red Riding Hood"

I wanted to like "Red Riding Hood" -- an inertly erotic, Gothic version of the parable from director Catherine Hardwicke -- but it's so dreadfully self-serious that it often ends up just being silly.

Hardwicke, who helmed the first "Twilight" movie before leaving the franchise, has a keen eye and sumptuous visual style. Her version of a girl plagued by a deadly werewolf has a lush, dreamy quality, as if the picture is indistinct around the edges.

Here, Amanda Seyfried plays Valerie, a virginal town girl with a carnally curious nature. She has not one but two suitors: Peter (Shiloh Fernandez), the poor woodcutter who's loved her since childhood, and Henry (Max Irons), the spoiled but not entirely unworthy rich boy who's been promised Valerie's hand in marriage.

When a ghostly wolf threatens the village, help arrives in the form of Father Solomon (Gary Oldman), a lycanthrope-hunting priest whose style is closer to Inquisition than Saint Francis.

Other characters flitting around the edges of the story are a meek priest (Lukas Haas) and Valerie's grandmother (Julie Christie), who lives alone deep in the woods with her bubbling cauldron.

David Johnson's screenplay devolves into a woefully misguided whodunit, in which the audience tries to figure out who is secretly the werewolf. Meanwhile, Hardwicke indulges in plenty of her own excesses, including a medieval dance session with the village teens that resembles a modern rave.

It never pays to sex up the classics.

Extra features are quite skimpy for the DVD version, but improve greatly upon upgrading to the Blu-ray/DVD combo pack.

The DVD contains only a single goodie: Several deleted scenes.

The combo pack, dubbed the "Alternate Cut," features a director's cut that's slightly different from the theatrical version, including a new ending.
There is also a picture-in-picture commentary with Hardwicke, Seyfried, Fernandez and Irons -- I only wish more films included such participation by the principal cast members.

There are also another dozen or so featurettes and Easter Eggs, including casting tapes, footage from rehearsals, music video, gag reel and more.

Plus, a digital copy of the film.

Movie: 1.5 stars out of four
Extras: 3.5 stars

Review: "Kung Fu Panda 2'

I think I may have actually nodded off during "Kung Fu Panda 2." This is surprising, because I have never fallen asleep in a movie theater before. Also, because it happened not during the talkie scenes but in the middle of the martial arts action.

It may amount to no more than 10 seconds I missed, but I still feel compelled to report it. I've sat near famous critics who snored halfway through a screening, and it troubled me when that didn't show up in their review. It may be largely subjective, but movie criticism is still journalism, so it's our duty to report the whole of our experience of a film.

To wit: "Panda 2" literally put me to sleep -- albeit very briefly.

I'm not an ingrained panda-hater; I very much enjoyed the first film from 2008. The mix of excellently-detailed CG animation and goofy kid-friendly humor made for a jolly good time that appealed to adults as well as tykes.

But the sequel is just going through the motions. The comedy is again built around the slacker sweetness of Po, an animated version of Jack Black as a tubby panda. It worked last time around because he was a nobody poser who dreamt of fighting alongside the Ferocious Five: Tigress (Angelina Jolie), Monkey (Jackie Chan), Mantis (Seth Rogen), Viper (Lucy Liu) and Crane (David Cross).

But as we learned at the end of the last film, Po completed his unlikely journey to become the Dragon Warrior, the culmination of kung fu mastery. His pratfalls and clumsy antics don't jibe now that he's the baddest bear in the land.

Although I must say that for the beast who's supposed to be the best of the best, both Tigress and their teacher Shifu still seem to have his number.

Speaking of Shifu, voiced by Dustin Hoffman, he's kind of kicked to the curb in the sequel, showing up for a few scenes near the beginning and end. He speaks cryptically about a new threat that could "destroy kung fu," which is like saying you're going to destroy gardening. Even if you kill all the best gardeners, there's still going to be plenty of people around who know a thing or two -- same with chop-socky.

The new villain is Lord Shen, a peacock who dreams of conquering all of China. He's well on his way to doing it, too, thanks to a new invention: the cannon. (For a brief time, the movie had a subtitle, "The Kaboom of Doom," that seems to have evaporated.)

Gary Oldman does a good job making Shen a somewhat sympathetic figure with some parental abandonment issues. He's also a lot more menacing than you might imagine a brightly-hued peacock could be -- for those cascading feathers hide a small arsenal of knives.

Screenwriters/producers Jonathan Aibel and Glenn Berger, who also wrote the original film, make the unwise choice of giving Po some backstory to explore. Po has a goose for a father, and one thing I liked about the first movie was that no one seemed to question this ornithological oddity.

But now Po is sent to chase after the memory of his missing parents, and it gives the sequel a downbeat fibe that sucks the life out of the lighter material.

Rookie director Jennifer Yuh's fight scenes don't have the crisp clarity of the last movie -- the action is either flying by too fast, or they dial up the slo-mo so far it's like we're stuck in molasses.

But mostly "Kung Fu Panda 2" just lacks the novelty of the original, which found a sweet spot in between martial arts and goofy animated critters, and milked it for every last laugh. This one feels like leftovers that have curdled.

1.5 stars out of two

Review: "Red Riding Hood"

Was the world really crying out for a sexed-up version of "Little Red Riding Hood," with the naive young girl transformed into the carnally curious town tart pursued by two pouty-lipped bad boys?

This is a strange, dreary and stubbornly un-entertaining reboot of the ancient fairy tale about a little girl who meets the big, bad wolf. Granted there were always sexual undertones to the legend, but this is like the Brothers Grimm by way of "Twilight," with ancient forebodings about creatures of the night used as grist for the mill of angsty teenage lust.

The "Twilight" comparison is an obvious one, since director Catherine Hardwicke helmed the first film in that franchise, before getting the boot/quitting in frustration (depending on who you ask). Rumor even has it that Shiloh Fernandez, who plays the main flame to Red Riding Hood's Amanda Seyfried, just missed the cut to play vampire dreamboat Edward Cullen.

Fernandez is a promising young star, appearing in films no one's seen like "Deadgirl" and "Skateland." But he's ill-used here, hanging around mostly as boy toy eye candy and to tempt Valerie, aka Red, into thinking he might be the werewolf stalking the village.

In fact, most everyone Valerie meets is suspected at some point of being the hirsute killer, with the result that "Red Riding Hood" plays out like a Gothic whodunit.

Is it Peter (Fernandez), the humble woodcutter who secretly stole Valerie's heart when they were children? Or Henry Lazar (Max Irons), the wealthy (compared to the rest of the town) blacksmith's son to whom Valerie's parents (Virginia Madsen and Billy Burke) have promised her hand in marriage?

Or maybe it's good old grandmother (Julie Christie) living in her remote cottage in the woods, making odd elliptical comments and brewing strange concoctions in her boiling cauldron.

The screenplay by David Johnson is a case study in misdirection, tempting us with one candidate after another for the role of the werewolf who's plagued the village of Daggerhorn for generations. Some characters, such as the timid local priest (Lukas Haas), seem to exist solely for the purpose of spreading the suspicion around.

The Daggerhornians have existed in peace with the beast for 20 years, offering their prime livestock as sacrifice every full moon. There's been no human slayings, until Valerie's sister turns up dead, and after a few tankards of ale the men folk decide to put an end to the curse once and for all.

They bring a wolf's head back on a stake, convinced they've won, but then Father Solomon (Gary Oldman) arrives in town to set them right. Solomon's a real piece of work, who carries around a Van Helsing-like arsenal of weapons but also a zeal for smiting evildoers that's straight out of the Inquisition.

Solomon's dedication to lycanthrope-hunting is so hardcore that he slew his own wife when he discovered she was a werewolf, and carries around her severed hand in an ornate wooden box to prove his bona fides. Or maybe he's a just a seriously screwed-up dude.

Hardwicke shoots with a dream-like quality, making the movie seem as if it shimmers around the edges. Her stylistic choices often spill over the top, though, as in every tree and building sprouting spikes that we keep expecting stuff to get impaled on. Or the big feast scene where the young'uns break out into some sort of squirmy medieval lambada.

Like the rest of "Red Riding Hood," it's meant to be sensual, but instead is profoundly silly.

1.5 stars out of four

Video review: "The Book of Eli"

“The Book of Eli” may just be the best-looking dumb movie ever made.

This post-apocalyptic drama from the Hughes brothers directing duo (Allen and Albert) features a wasteland so bleak and bled of color, the film is nearly monochromatic. Its spareness is practically sumptuous.

But the script (by Gary Whitta) is filled with so much idiocy and silliness, we grow distracted from all the great visuals.

The setup is part “Mad Max,” part “Waterworld” (sans water), part “Fallout” video game, and 100 percent bone-headed.

Denzel Washington plays the title character, a wandering badass who possesses the last Holy Bible on Earth. Most of humanity was wiped out 30 years ago, and the few that are left roam the desert preying on each other, or gather into chaotic enclaves.

Eli strolls into one of the latter, a town led by an intelligent, diabolical man named Carnegie (Gary Oldman), who sees in the Bible a weapon with which he can tie the rabble to his yoke.

The last two-thirds of the movie devolves into a series of chases and fights as Carnegie's men seek to wrest the book from Eli's grasp. Eli, armed with a freaky-looking machete and preternaturally fast moves, filets them to bits.

It's a cool, withered world the Hugheses have painted for us. And I’m a sucker for stories about mankind squabbling over the flotsam of their dead society.

But don't be fooled by its great looks: “The Book of Eli” is so stupid, it’s almost unholy.

Video extras are spare for DVD, but terrific in the Blu-ray version.

The DVD has four brief deleted or alternate scenes, and a 5-minute animated comic book story about Carnegie's origins.

In addition, the Blu-ray edition has a pop-up commentary track by the Hughes brothers, which you can pause to watch an additional 34 minutes of "Focus Points" covering all levels of production.

I found it fascinating that the Hugheses commissioned a complete graphic novel version of the story before filming began.

There's also a featurette on the soundtrack, a digital copy of the film, and two documentaries totaling 30 minutes that explore the spiritual implications of Eli's world and mission.

Movie: 1.5 stars
Extras: 3.5 stars

Review: "The Book of Eli"

"The Book of Eli" may just be the best-looking dumb movie ever made.

I mean it: The Hughes Brothers (Albert and Allen) deliver a post-apocalyptic landscape that's bleak and gritty and so washed out of color, the movie is practically in black-and-white. Cinematographer Don Burgess, an Oscar nominee for "Forrest Gump," delivers a masterfully crafted visual banquet; its spareness is practically sumptuous.

I also mean it about the stupidity -- the Hughes boys and rookie screenwriter Gary Whitta pair these wonderful visuals with a story so nonsensical and silly, it's at least 20 I.Q. points slower than Forrest.

The setup is part "Mad Max," part "Waterworld" (sans water), part "Fallout" video game, and 100 percent bone-headed.

Denzel Washington plays the title character, a wandering badass who's been walking westward ever since nuclear war annihilated most of humanity 30 years ago. (I feel compelled to point out he must be the slowest walker ever -- even if he only hiked 10 miles a day, he could have traversed all of America dozens of times in that span.)

He carries many weapons, including firearms and a bow, but favors a freaky-looking sword that he uses to cut off the hand of a highway bandit who dares touch him in the film's opening minutes. After the rest of his gang has been messily killed, the ruffian reaches for his severed appendage, which Eli kicks out of reach. "I told you you weren't going to get that back," he says.

Clearly a bad dude, right? So perhaps it comes as a shock to learn that Eli is, in fact, a holy man. He's carrying the last Holy Bible on Earth, he says (how does he know that?). He reads it every night, and likes to quote scripture as he's filleting his enemies. But he doesn't seem to live by its precepts very much -- certainly not the turn the other cheek stuff.

Still, it's a pretty cool world that's been painted for us. I'm a sucker for stories about mankind squabbling over the flotsam of their dead society. "We threw things away that people kill each other over now," Eli observes.

But then things get screwy.

Eli wanders into a town run by a boss named Carnegie (Gary Oldman), who's been sending his road gangs out to search for a Bible. It seems in the aftermath of the war, there was a concerted effort (by whom, it's never stated) to burn all the Bibles. Carnegie, a schemer who rules through his wits rather than his muscle, figures to use the holy words as a "weapon" with which he can gather people to him and thereby gain power.

Now, if Carnegie is smart enough to realize religion can be used for nefarious purposes, why does he need a Bible? He could just dream up his own religion, inventing whatever rules and commandments he wanted to suit his purposes, and achieve exactly the same effect. Since Eli has the only Bible, who's to contest Carnegie's version of scripture?

But no, once Carnegie learns that Eli has a Bible, he sends hordes of men with guns after him to procure it.

Eli himself is a little more circumspect about his purposes. All he will say is that he's walking westward until he finds a place where the book is needed. Even Solara, a town girl who tags along with Eli, can't get much more information out of him than that, although he does teach her to say grace before meals. Solara is played by Mila Kunis, who has a knack for comedy but should step away from dramatic material -- she's just this side of awful in this movie.

I don't want to give away too much about the plot, other than to say when Eli's final destination is revealed, one realizes that all of Carnegie's sacrifices have been for naught. He could have just waited in his town until the Bible came back to him.

The film's other idiocies are multitudinous. For example, there's a little ritual the people in town do to prove they're not cannibals: Making others hold up their hands to see if they shake. Eating too much human meat, you see, causes one to have tremors. Eli and Solara learn this for certain when they stumble upon a seemingly nice old couple in the wasteland who have lots of guns and lots of shakes. I guess it sounds neat, until one wonders what biophysical effect one could possibly have from eating human flesh, other than anorexia.

Speaking of which -- for a setting in which everyone is constantly scrapping for food and water, Denzel Washington and the rest of the cast look suspiciously well-fed. I would think double-chins and bellies would be a rarity in the after-apocalypse. Only Oldman looks sufficiently gaunt and withered to belong to the wasteland.

And that's not even getting into the film's metaphysical posturing. The Hughes boys seem to suggest that there is actually something supernatural at work here, particularly with Eli's preternaturally fast combat moves. At one point he takes out a whole gang of men with rifles using only a pistol, which seems to hold an infinite amount of bullets.

But don't be fooled by its great looks: "The Book of Eli" is so stupid, it's almost unholy.

1.5 stars

Review: "A Christmas Carol"

"A Christmas Carol" is a technological marvel, an animated film that is absolutely breathtaking in its attention to detail, and in the depth and beauty of its images. Unfortunately, it also has little reason for existing beyond these technical aspects.

Do audiences really need an umpteenth cinematic version of Charles Dickens' classic story? This is, after all, a franchise that has been translated dozens of times on film and television, including multiple animated editions.

Heck, the Muppets, Mickey Mouse, Sesame Street, Flintstones, Mr. Magoo and even Barbie have tackled Dickens' novella.

Robert Zemeckis, the master filmmaker behind "Forrest Gump" and "Back to the Future," adds nothing beyond fancy flourishes to the morality tale about a miser who learns the value of life, and thereby the true meaning of Christmas.

A few years ago, Zemeckis famously swore off live-action films to concentrate on photo-realistic computer-generated animation. His first two efforts, "The Polar Express" and "Beowulf," were well-intentioned and often mesmerizing, but also contained bouts of silliness (think Angelina Jolie with a tail).

"Christmas Carol" doubles down on the silly, with the hyper Jim Carrey providing the voices (and motions) of Ebenezer Scrooge and all the ghosts.

And Zemeckis adds a heavy dollop of action sequences designed to make the movie more commercially viable to audiences with children.

It's very easy to say Charles Dickens might have dreamed up scenes where Ebenezer Scrooge is shot halfway to the moon on a rocket, or shrunk down to the size of a mouse and chased by a team of hellfire steeds, if only he had been alive during a time when such depictions were possible. It's also a cop-out.

"Scrooged" from 1988 already ably translated "Carol" to a modern setting, and used special effects to liven up the ghosts of Christmas Past, Present and Future. Zemeckis retains the grubby antique 19th-century setting but uses cutting-edge animation and 3-D technology to achieve it.

The result is stale but annoyingly flashy, like musty architecture with ill-placed modern gilding.

It's also odd that Zemeckis retained a lot of the 1843-era stilted English, such as Scrooge's pronouncement upon seeing his childhood home, "I was bred here."

Now, to the ghosts. Conceptually, they're 1-for-3.

The Ghost of Christmas Present is depicted as a giant, bearded, laughing man, a Dionysian figure (who closely resembles the book's original drawing). The scene where the ghost ages and meets his demise -- since he lives in the present, his lifespan lasts only a day -- is both thrilling and creepy. (Although his strange pronouncement about men of the cloth left the audience scratching its collective head.)

The Ghost of Christmas Past, though, is a chirpy-voiced floating ball of flame. In my mind, I instantly dubbed, and dismissed, him as "Match-head." Ghost of Christmas Future is merely an inky wraith seen only in the shadows.

The supporting performances are a nice mix -- I particularly liked Gary Oldman as Scrooge's long-suffering clerk Bob Cratchit, whom he gives a shy sort of grace. (Oldman also plays Jacob Marley and Tiny Tim.)

In the end, I'm not really sure who this new version of "A Christmas Carol" is for. Great-looking but uninspired, it's a shiny new toy that can only do old tricks.

2.5 stars