Video review: "Spider-Man: Homecoming"

From a creative standpoint, Spider-Man is deep in middle age, debuting in Marvel Comics some 50-odd years ago. Even as a cinematic hero, Spidey is hardly a newbie, with seven films and three different sets of actors portraying the web-slinger since 2002.

But the latest iteration, “Spider-Man: Homecoming,” is very much a product of teenage angst. Its hero, Peter Parker, is a 15-year-old high school sophomore played by Tom Holland. He’s a pretty typical kid: he’s a nerdy brain on the academic all-stars team, pines for an unattainable senior girl (Laura Harrier) and has a close circle of like-minded friends, chiefly fellow geek Ned (Jacob Batalon).

Except for one thing: he’s also secretly Spider-Man, who sneaks off from school and the Queens apartment of his Aunt May (Marisa Tomei) to fight low-level evildoers.

After getting a taste of Avengers action at the behest of Iron Man/Tony Stark (Robert Downey Jr.), Peter is eager to leave his dull school life behind and join the super-team full-time. But the invitation seems to have gotten lost in the mail, though Stark did give him a super-suit with a bunch of cool features to help him along.

Michael Keaton plays the villain, who’s not really at the center of the story. He plays the Vulture, aka blue-collar contractor-turned-criminal Adrian Toomes, who parlayed some of the alien technology that fell on Manhattan a few years ago into a thriving underground enterprise. He and Spider-Man run afoul of each other’s activities, with the professional antagonism eventually taking a decidedly personal turn.

Directed by Jon Watts from one of those screenplays-by-committee, “Spider-Man: Homecoming” can be rather uneven at times, with cockeyed action scenes and a little too much silliness for its own good.

But it energetically takes the hero back to his roots, without rehashing old creations myths. (Does anybody need to see that radioactive spider bite thing ever again?)

Holland may just be the best Spider-Man yet, giving us a teen in turmoil who just happens to be able to bench-press a bus.

Bonus features are quite expansive, starting with “The Spidey Study Guide” with all sorts of wiki-style info and clues about the web-head. There are also 10 deleted scenes and seven making-of featurettes, ranging on everything from storyboarding to creating the film’s oft-amazing stunts.

There is also a production photo gallery, a gag reel and more of those hilarious “Rappin’ with Cap” fake public service announcements featuring Chris Evans as Captain America, which were briefly glimpsed in the film.

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Review: "Spider-Man: Homecoming"

“He treats me like I’m a kid!”
“But you ARE a kid.”
“Yeah, but one who can stop a bus with his bare hands!”

The newest film iteration of the most popular hero in the Marvel catalogue, “Spider-Man: Homecoming,” is a lot like a real teenager. It’s uneven, running hot and cold, is more than a little neurotic, self-centered and even annoys you at times.

But the movie is also filled with a vibrancy that practically beams off the screen like a beacon.

I know, I know… it seems crazy to think this is the sixth Spider-Man movie in just 15 years -- plus a featured turn in the last Avengers flick -- with three different sets of stars and filmmakers.

But honestly, I’m not tired of it. Especially when “Homecoming” takes things in quite another direction. More than any other super-hero movie, this Spider-Man is unsure of himself, hesitant, even scared.

Speaking of the number 15, that factors heavily into this conception of the webslinger: that’s how old Peter Parker is supposed to be. Think about that for a moment. Consider what you were like at 15: your decision-making powers, your sense of responsibility, how able you were to resist temptation when it presented itself. Now imagine you can lift a tractor and dodge bullets.

Star Tom Holland was 20 when they shot this movie, but easily passes as a high school sophomore. He uses a tremulous voice and an expressive face to portray a kid struggling to find his place in the world alongside some very unique challenges. His yearning to belong, and to be something more, is palpable and affecting.

As the story opens, Peter is sneaking off from school and shunning any social engagement to work on “the Stark internship” -- the cover story he feeds to his Aunt May (Marisa Tomei) and few friends, notably exuberant fellow nerd Ned (Jacob Batalon). That’s a reference to Tony Stark, aka Iron Man, who gave Peter a super-suit to upgrade his red-and-blue underwear. Robert Downey Jr. shows up a few times to mentor or berate, as needs be.

But after helping in the Avengers clash, future missions are not forthcoming. Peter’s texts and calls to Stark and his right-hand man, Happy (Jon Favreau), largely go unanswered. Instead of getting what he really wants -- an invitation to join the Avengers team -- Spidey spends his time fighting petty criminals in and around his home in Queens.

He runs afoul of Adrian Toomes, a blue-collar scrap man who stole some alien technology from the extraterrestrial attack depicted in the first Avengers movie and is turning it into powerful weapons he’s selling on the street. Played by Michael Keaton, Toomes also has his own winged flying suit -- Peter dubs him the Vulture -- and a crew of henchmen, including Bokeem Woodbine as a guy which a shockingly strong prosthetic fist.

It’s not one of the better villains in the Marvel movies, but the filmmakers have made a conscious choice to focus more on the guy behind the Spider-Man mask than concocting some world-beater threat. There’s also no J. Jonah Jameson, Daily Bugle or freelance photographer job.

There are girls, though, specifically two: Liz (Laura Harrier), a smart senior Peter has been crushing on for some time; and Michelle (Zendaya), a morose outsider who always seems to be hanging around the fringes with Peter and Ned, mocking them for their loser status while embracing her own. They’re all on the academic all-star team together (or quiz bowl, as they called it back in my day), so there are opportunities for trips and trysts.

Director Jon Watts nails the angst and turmoil of his protagonist. I wish his action scenes were better-staged, often seeming jagged and off-angle. The screenplay could use some tweaking and trimming, but with six (!) credited writers, we’re definitely wading deep into creation-by-committee territory here.

The movie is clever and full of self-aware humor, such as when they mock the famous upside-down kiss from the first movie. “Spider-Man: Homecoming” wisely doesn’t ignore the previous films, but acknowledges the hero’s mythological middle age while finding a new offshoot that’s young and fresh.

Video review: "The Big Short"

Fresh off its Oscar win for Best Adapted Screenplay (and a strong late bid for Best Picture), I’m hoping more people will give “The Big Short” a look. I’ve no doubt many potential ticket buyers took one look at the subject matter – high finance rebels who foresaw the real estate bubble bursting – and said, “No, thanks.”

What they need to know is how smart, funny and downright entertaining this movie is. While its primary fuel is anger at a rigged system, the film uses comedy as its entry point.

Consider Adam McKay, director and co-writer, whose previous credits include lowbrow comedies “Anchorman,” “Step Brothers” and “The Other Guys.” And Steve Carell as Mike Baum, a cartoonishly loud and obnoxious money manager. Even Ryan Gosling, Brad Pitt and Christian Bale, actors not normally known for eliciting laughs, are funny and engaging in an ensemble cast with no real traditional lead.

What’s most astounding is how the film takes a complex subject and breaks it down into digestible bites. The problem began when financial institutions started packaging risky mortgages as assets to be traded and sold. There’s no real single villain, just a system in which everyone looked the other way -- including the government’s watchdogs -- in order to maintain the appearance of financial stability.

Hilarious and bitter, “The Big Short” is a heist movie in which we’re the ones getting fleeced, and the good guys are the ones pointing to the crime who get dismissed as loons.

Bonus features are pretty decent, though you’ll have to buy the Blu-ray upgrade to get them: the DVD contains none.

These include five making-of documentary shorts: “In the Trenches: Casting,” “The Big Leap: Adam McKay,” “Unlikely Heroes: The Characters of The Big Short,” “The House of Cards: The Rise of the Fall” and “Getting Rea: Recreating an Era.” There are also several deleted scenes.

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Review: "The Big Short"

I’m not sure if I’ve ever seen a movie as simultaneously funny and angry as “The Big Short.”

Ostensibly a dramatic, spit-flecked tirade against the real estate crash and the widespread financial shenanigans that caused it, the film is also wickedly hilarious, dripping in black humor and rife with sharp one-liners. It’s a smart, insightful howl against a system that was rigged -- and, the movie argues, still is.

Here is a sure Oscar contender, and one of the year’s best films.

Director and co-writer Adam McKay, known for lowbrow comedies often starring Will Ferrell (“Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy”) unbeloved by me, makes the unlikeliest left turn in Hollywood history. He and Charles Randolph deftly adapt the book by Michael Lewis, celebrating a disparate band of anti-heroes who bet against the real estate market when the rest of the world of high finance, from the most junior broker to the Chairman of the Federal Reserve, viewed it as Gibraltar solid.

The most amazing accomplishment of the film, beyond maintaining that bravura blend of wit and fury, is making the complicated world of mortgage financing not only understandable, but turning it into the villain of the piece. We glimpse a few smarmy manipulators, a handful of real estate brokers writing mortgages they know their clients won’t be able to pay, etc. – but they’re cogs in the machine.

Christian Bale plays Michael Burry, a former M.D. who founded his own hedge fund. It was he who first looked at how banks were packaging subprime mortgages and selling the debt as an asset, using volume to hide the millions of cracks in what appeared to most observers to be an unassailable wall of strength. Burry, a kook who runs his office barefoot, bet early and bet big that it would all come tumbling down.

Others took his cue and ran with it, further uncovering pieces of the jumbled puzzle. Steve Carell is terrific as Mark Baum, a money manager operating his own shop under the umbrella of Morgan Stanley. A provocateur who lashes out at those who seek to take advantage of others – an odd disposition for an investor, obviously – Baum sees the looming crisis as less an opportunity than a fount of outrage.

Ryan Gosling plays Jared Vennett, a slick operator who helps put the pieces together for others and acts as our snide narrator. Brad Pitt turns up as Ben Rickert, a dispossessed trader brought in to act as mentor/facilitator by a pair of young hotshots (John Magaro and Finn Wittrock) who sniff out the opportunity. Pure mercenaries looking for a score at first, they slowly become educated that those numbers on a spreadsheet represent real homes, families, lives.

The story essentially moves forward as a triad, each of the three investor groups experiencing pushback and pressure from their colleagues. Just when we think the house of cards must come tumbling down, it magically stays afloat through the sorcery of confidence and delusion.

Like “Spotlight,” this is an ensemble film that essentially has no central character or leading performances. Only with Carell’s Baum do we learn much about him outside of the office, which provides a little illumination into how somebody dedicated to making money could wear his conscious so plainly on his sleeve. As good as he was in “Foxcatcher,” Carell is even better here.

Even as it lauds the rebels who went against the grain and said ‘no’ when everyone else said ‘yes,’ “The Big Short” never lets us forget that the accounting chicanery that caused the worst recession since the 1930s is the real story. Burry, Baum and company may have won a pile of money for their insight. But we all lost in the big game we didn’t even know was being played.

Review: "Parental Guidance"

Warm and schmaltzy, “Parental Guidance” is the movie equivalent of comfort food. It’s funny and warm-hearted, not terribly ambitious, but it does the things it sets out to do well.

Billy Crystal and Bette Midler star as young-ish grandparents struggling to reconnect with their grandkids while watching over them for a week. They’re a winning onscreen match, trading a few snipes but with strong base of love and affection underneath. It seemed like just yesterday Crystal was a romantic leading man, and now he’s riffing as a Borsch Belt grandpa. Time goes by.

I don’t mind saying that seeing Crystal and Midler back on the screen in starring roles warms the cockles of my frigid critic’s heart. They both made nice careers out of their engaging comedic personalities, and it was mysterious why they both seemed to fall off Hollywood’s map a decade ago. Crystal’s mostly been doing voice work, and Midler has popped up in occasional bit roles in movies few people saw.

“Parental Guidance” mostly acts as a showcase for the duo’s funny-bone charms, and a splendid one at that. At times director Andy Fickman and screenwriters Lisa Addario and Joe Syracuse wade too deep into sappy life-lessons moments. But the laughs are good and plentiful.

Artie Decker (Crystal) is a baseball radio announcer who always dreamed of making it to the bigs calling Giants games, but never made it higher than “De Voice” of the Fresno Triple-A Grizzlies. His wife Diane (Midler) was a TV weather girl back when they were still called that, and has loyally stuck by Artie’s side through countless career moves.

(As is S.O.P. in a Hollywood flick, they own a huge, gorgeous house that should be way beyond the means of a pair of minor-league broadcasters.)

Then they get a surprise call from their only child, Alice (Marisa Tomei), asking them to come to Atlanta to watch over their three kids. It seems Alice’s husband Phil (Tom Everett Scott) has won a big award for his automated home design, and wants to use the occasion as a much-needed vacation for the harried parents.

The trouble is, Alice and Phil have a new Age-y approach to parenting that the Deckers don’t exactly embrace – no sugar, no punishment, etc. The oldsters also can’t figure out the newfangled house, controlled by a computer that sounds like a female version of HAL 9000.

On top of that, Artie is stressed about just getting canned for not being up on social media. “Apps? I have no apps!” he insists indignantly, as if he’s been accused of carrying a disease.

 The three young actors are winsome as all get out, and talented little performers to boot. The filmmakers grant them fairly typical kid problem: Harper (Bailee Madison) is a precocious violinist who needs more freedom to grow; Turner (Joshua Rush) has a stutter and is being bullied at school; Barker (Kyle Harrison Brietkopf) is a scallywag tyke with a bloom of unruly red curls and an even wilder imagination.

The interaction between grandkids and grandparents is fun and kooky. Artie gives Barker payoffs for good behavior – 6-year-olds are pretty cheap to bribe – and indulges Turner’s desire to watch the “Saw” horror movies together, resulting in the movie’s biggest laugh line. And Diane helps Harper find her inner teen.

Yes, “Parental Guidance” is pretty forgettable wholesome entertainment. But this is an amiable family-friendly comedy with an impish streak – a bear hug coupled with a few head noogies.

3 stars out of four

Video Review: "The Ides of March"

"The Ides of March" is an ambitious, well-executed political drama that loses points because if its utter lack of freshness. From the inspiring presidential candidate with secret dark spots, to the ambitious campaign insiders and journalists ready to cut throats to get ahead, to the naive young thing who gets caught up in the crossfire, there's virtually nothing in this movie that we haven't seen before.

George Clooney directed, co-wrote and has a supporting role in "Ides" as Mike Morris, a liberal governor who's the frontrunner for the race to the White House. Ryan Gosling stars as Stephen Myers, Morris' number-two man behind grizzled political veteran Paul Zara (Philip Seymour Hoffman).

Paul Giamatti plays the campaign manager for Morris' main opponent, who's got an ace up his sleeve as they head into the Ohio primary. Rounding out the cast are Marisa Tomei as a sly New York Times reporter and Evan Rachel Wood as a 20-year-old campaign volunteer who catches Stephen's eye.

That's a killer cast, and Clooney knows exactly how to exploit it, resulting in many winning scenes of dueling repartee and clashing egos. It's during these times that the movie reminds one of other, better political flicks like "The Candidate" or "Primary Colors."

But the screenplay by Clooney, his longtime collaborator Grant Heslov and Beau Willimon, based on a play by Willimon, continually goes down paths far too well-traveled. The audience knows almost everything that's going to happen long before it transpires.

Inevitability is a quality that may work when it comes to winning elections, but it turns otherwise promising films into cinematic also-rans.

Extra features aren't a landslide, but certainly make a solid showing that should please the electorate of video lovers.

The DVD version comes with a commentary track by Clooney and Heslov, plus two featurettes: "Believe: George Clooney" and "On the Campaign: The Cast of Ides of March."

Upgrade to Blu-ray, and you get two more featurettes: "Developing the Campaign: The Origin of Ides of March" and "What Does a Political Consultant Do?".

Movie: 2.5 stars out of four
Extras: 3 stars

Review: "The Ides of March"

Here's the first serious would-be contender of the season for Oscar nominations, "The Ides of March." And it's a solid base hit, but not anywhere near out of the park.

This drama directed, co-written and co-starring George Clooney is a well-intentioned cautionary tale about the corrupting nature of modern electoral politics. It's splendidly acted, with a top-notch cast that in addition to Clooney includes Ryan Gosling, Paul Giamatti, Philip Seymour Hoffman and Marisa Tomei -- Academy Award winners or nominees, all.

But it's simply not up to par with Clooney's other directorial efforts. "Good Night, and Good Luck" showed how to do old-fashioned Hollywood drama right, and even "Confessions of a Dangerous Mind" had a zany, over-the-edge frisson.

Compared to some of the films Clooney's starred in lately, like "Up in the Air" or "Michael Clayton," this movie isn't even playing the same league.

The biggest downside of "The Ides of March" is that it's so familiar. There are elements from a half-dozen political films one can pick out, but mostly it seems like the love child of "The Candidate" and "Primary Colors." The crackling dialogue and gutsy performances barely keep ahead of an impending sense of redundancy, rolling in like an inevitable tide, reminding us we've seen all this before.

"Ides" is a well-executed retread that impresses without ever surprising us.

Gosling plays Stephen Myers, the wunderkind political operator who's the number two man on the presidential campaign of Mike Morris (Clooney). The Democratic governor of Pennsylvania, Morris is currently the leading candidate for the Democratic nomination going into the Ohio primary.

Morris' campaign manager Paul Zara, a savvy veteran played by Hoffman, is in cautious playing-not-to-lose mode, while Stephen thinks they should be taking the battle for ideas to the voters --and Morris seems to be listening to Stephen.

This includes several scenes of Morris giving speeches championing the type of liberal orthodoxy favored in real life by Clooney that wouldn't last a week in a presidential election (Morris is an atheist, who thinks young people should perform two years of mandatory public service in order to attend college).

These sequences come across as Hollywood types feeling their oats, and drag the narrative to a near dead-stop as the audience contemplates how much they agree or disagree with Clooney's leftist politics, rather than concentrating on the fiction.

On the other side of the chess board is Tom Duffy (Giamatti), campaign manager for Morris' primary opponent. He's down but not out, and Tom has some cards up his sleeve to put Ohio in their column.

Out of the blue, Tom calls Stephen and asks to meet with him, which turns into a fawning play to convince him to jump ship. Stephen isn't having anything to do with it, but that doesn't mitigate the danger of Paul considering it an act of disloyalty.

Then Stephen uncovers some unsettling information about Morris, causing him to doubt his own principles. Ultimately, he makes his own power play that could alter the political landscape.

Tomei has a small but tidy role as Ida Horowicz, a reporter for the New York Times. She and Stephen have a friendly, bantering relationship, but when the moment of truth arrives she makes it clear she's primed to cut his throat to get the big story. (It may not seem like it, but that's actually a compliment.)

More problematic is Evan Rachel Wood as Molly, a 20-year-old campaign intern who makes goo-goo eyes at Stephen. Wood does about as much as she can with the role, but it's written as a human plot device rather than a person, existing merely to make the story turn in one direction or another -- no matter that it requires the character to flip on a dime, absent any logic or reason.

The screenplay is by Clooney, Grant Heslov and Beau Willimon, based on a play by Willimon.

What "The Ides of March" does best is shine on a light on the grubby inner workings of the political machine, the petty rivalries and human failings hidden by the smooth, facile face of a campaign. Clooney pans his camera from the candidate giving a speech in front of a huge crowd to the cramped hallway behind the stage, where workers and cronies literally have to step over each other as they track how every utterance is playing in real time.

It's a well-done film, respectable and serious. The actors acquit themselves with zest and skill. Unfortunately, "Ides" just has all the freshness of a outdated stump speech.

2.5 stars out of four

Review: "Crazy, Stupid, Love."

"Crazy, Stupid, Love." reminded me of bits and pieces of movies I love, and that's always a good thing. And yet it does not feel like a rip-off or a rehash, but exists entirely as its own creation.

It's the story of Cal and Emily Weaver, high school sweethearts turned unhappily marrieds played by Steve Carell and Julianne Moore. Going over the dessert menu at dinner, he asks her what she wants and she announces that, after 25 years, she wants a divorce. This actually represents the high point of their evening.

But it's also the tale of Jacob, a smooth ladies' man who trolls his favorite nightclub like a shark hunting territorial waters. He wields pick-up lines and brash confidence as weapons to subdue his prey: pretty, gullible women. "You wanna get outta here?" is the final thrust of his attack, and when they leave with him Jacob notches another triumph.

Jacob spots Cal pathetically pouring his heart out at the bar, post-breakup, and resolves to help him. There's the superficial makeover stuff, of course, like ditching Cal's New Balance sneakers and Gap-meets-apathy wardrobe. More tellingly, Jacob wants to turn sweet-faced Cal into a killer like himself.

"I'm gonna help you rediscover your manhood," Jacob promises.

Jacob is played by Ryan Gosling, not exactly known for playing the sort of slick, shallow pretty boys we've seen entirely too much on screens lately (*cough cough* Ryan Reynolds *cough*). Later Gosling will get a chance to show off the superficial jerk's uncharted depths.

Other characters, who had been standing around the edges of the story, unexpectedly rush to the fore and briefly hold the center. Chief among them is Hannah (Emma Stone), a smart young woman about to take the bar exam and become a patent attorney. She and Jacob briefly meet early in the movie, and she is the one gal who sees through his shtick and blows him off, and yet we are certain they will meet again.

Gosling and Stone share the greatest non-seduction seduction scene in the history of cinema -- probably also the first, but then that's something, too.

Then there is Jessica, the Weavers' 17-year-old babysitter. She has her own dimensions and secret hopes, and is skillfully and heartwarmingly played by Analeigh Tipton, who I learn is a famous model in real life, but here is unaware of her beauty. Tipton has a great scene where Jessica tries to do something that is entirely out of her character, and fumbles at it charmingly.

And then we have Robbie, the Weavers' 13-year-old son, in an arresting performance by Jonah Bobo. Robbie is a hopeless romantic, but is also pretty observant about adult behavior, and has his parents' dilemma figured out perhaps better than they themselves do. I adored Robbie for his spontaneous, unembarrassed declarations of unrequited love -- and also for the way he stares down David Lindhagen (Kevin Bacon), the jerk who stole his mom away from his dad.

I was thinking that I would enjoy an entire film about Robbie, and that's when it struck me that screenwriter Dan Fogelman ("Tangled") has given us at least a half-dozen characters who are each deserving of their own movie. Heck, most flicks don't even give us one.

Co-directors Glenn Ficarra and John Requa do a masterful job juggling the tone of "Crazy, Stupid Love.", which is often excruciatingly funny and sometimes mournful, and yet feels like it comes into these moods naturally rather than veering into them to facilitate the plot.

This is the sort of movie that shows us human emotions rather than tells us what they are supposed to look like. Like with Cal, who sneaks back to his former home at night to tend to the garden he knows has slipped Emily's mind. That's the whole of the man, in a moment.

3.5 stars out of four

Review: "Cyrus"

I don't really know what to call "Cyrus." From the presence of Jonah Hill as the title character, most people will probably take it as a comedy. But the humor is so dark and the mood so frequently unnerving that you don't much feel like laughing.

What I did feel was fully engaged, and enjoyment at drinking in some wonderful performances by Hill, Marisa Tomei and especially John C. Reilly. It's a movie that's not trying to provoke a reaction from the audience, but simply observes a small set of characters with sharp focus and a wry wit.

Reilly plays John, a sad sack who's finally pulled out of the tailspin since his divorce by starting a relationship with Molly (Tomei), a single mother to 21-year-old Cyrus (Hill), who's still living at home and doesn't show any inclinations about changing this fact. Cyrus sabotages their relationship, subtly at first but with increasing venom.

One scene sums up my reaction to this film. John has begun sleeping over at Molly's, which Cyrus accepts with a veneer of friendliness but clearly doesn't like. In the middle of the night, John gets up to find Cyrus standing in the kitchen nude from the waist down and holding a butcher knife. "C'mere," he says with a glazed stare, motioning with the huge knife.

I'll save you the trouble by letting you know "Cyrus" does not veer into slasher flick territory. But the sensation one gets in that moment -- nervous laughter that morphs quickly into fear and then melts into a profound discomfort -- is strangely enjoyable.

"Cyrus" is written and directed by sibling duo Jay and Mark Duplass ("Baghead"), part of the "mumblecore" indie movement. The dialogue has an ungroomed, improvisational feel, and the trio of stars give naturalistic performances without an ounce of ego.

Reilly, who's done a lot of lunkhead comedies lately but has shown serious acting chops in the past, certainly doesn't seem to have any vanity in his role. When we first see John, his ex-wife (Catherine Kenner) catches him masturbating in his slovenly wreck of a home.

She reveals that she and her boyfriend (Matt Walsh) are going to get married, which crushes him despite the seven years since they parted. To cheer him up, they invite John to a party where he gets stupendously drunk, and even the homely girl sitting alone on the couch blows him off.

Molly, however, overhears his moment of total vulnerability and is touched. Soon they're an item, but John quickly senses something wrong about her relationship with her son. Cyrus calls her Molly instead of mother, and they spend hours every day together wrapped in a cocoon of co-dependency.

Cyrus deeply resents any division of Molly's affections with another -- she tellingly reveals she hasn't had a serious relationship since Cyrus was born -- and sets about to use himself as a wedge between them.

In essence, John has walked into the middle of an Oedipal complex, with him taking on the role of the guy about to get whacked.

Hill is terrific, and what's most striking about it is that it isn't all that different from what he does in his comedic roles. He's become a master of the deadpan stare where he says seemingly benevolent things, but in a cutting way. His Cyrus is a sweet-faced emotional terrorist.

I really liked Reilly in this. He starts out as such a pathetic figure, we practically cringe for him. But he slowly gets his baggage together, and has enough self-respect to fight back against Cyrus' manipulations.

Tomei's role is a bit under-realized -- Molly acts as a vessel into which these two flawed men pour their emotions, good and bad. I kept wishing she would take a proactive role, and kick both of them out.

3 stars out of four