Video review: "First Reformed"

Ethan Hawke is quietly enjoying the richest period of his career. Alas, most of these revelatory performances have been in small movies few people saw: “Born to Be Blue,” “Maudie” and this effort from writer/director Paul Schrader. Hawke plays Toller, a middle-aged reverend at the titular church, a small, ancient place of worship in upstate New York.

“First Reformed” is a challenging but ultimately rewarding film. Not since Martin Scorsese’s “Silence” can I think of a movie that has treated the subject of religious faith with such devotion and a complete absence of condescension. Both are about clergymen having their beliefs tested and found, at least for a time, wanting.

Toller is more caretaker of a facility than minister to the faithful. Few people attend services at First Reformed, in part because it’s seen as more of a historical stop-off for tourists, and partly because Toller is clearly a man who’s struggling too much with his own doubts to allay those of others.

He gets a chance at redemption when he is approached by a young couple (Amanda Seyfried and Philip Ettinger) in crisis seeking his help. The husband is depressed and suicidal, obsessed with climate change, and Toller shares some of his own troubles in an attempt to relate. A former military chaplain, his marriage crumbled when his son enlisted -- with his encouragement -- and died in Iraq.

Instead of helping the young man, though, Toller finds himself swept up in the same fixation he has. This causes problems in his relationship with Reverend Joel Jeffers (a very good Cedric the Entertainer), who runs the nearby megachurch that props up First Reformed financially. They’re about to celebrate the church’s 250th anniversary, and an energy tycoon is funding the lavish ceremony.

Things go from there. “First Reformed” takes some surprising turns of the plot -- ones that I’ll admit left me feeling alienated from the movie at first. But the emotional navigation is true, anchored by Hawke’s wonderful performance as a man whose torment is the only thing left sustaining him.

This is not a film for everyone. But for those willing to be challenged and questioned by a movie, it’s as worthy a cinematic experience to come along in 2018.

Bonus features are modest. Schrader delivers a feature-length commentary track -- pity it did not include Hawke; this film would be a perfect conduit for an imtimate conversation between filmmaker and star -- and a making-of documentary featurette, “Discernment: Contemplating First Reformed.”

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Review: "First Reformed"

Some movies you know exactly where they're going to go, and others take you to the places you least expect. The latter isn't necessarily superior to the former, since it's the journey that has to be satisfying to the audience, not just the destination.

"First Reformed" is an austere, bold picture that looks at the crisis of faith being experienced by Toller, a Protestant pastor played by Ethan Hawke. I was completely absorbed in the plight of this man of faith, and Hawke's absolutely committed performance.

Religion is not a topic that films tackle regularly with anything resembling insight or sensitivity, so I was engrossed in what appeared to be a genuine attempt to do so by veteran writer/director Paul Schrader ("Taxi Driver," "Affliction").

Then the movie starting going off in some weird directions, progressing from off-putting to disturbing to shocking. Part of me resisted all the left turns. But I still found myself believing in the authenticity of Toller's emotional and spiritual journey.

Toller is a former military chaplain whose life crumbled some years ago when his son joined the Army and died in Iraq, which also doomed his marriage. Now he's the pastor of the titular church in Snowbridge, N.Y., a beautiful relic where almost nobody attends services. First Reformed is about to celebrate its 250th anniversary, and Toller's job is more caretaker of the facility than to flocks of the faithful.

He gives tours, sells T-shirts and hats, fixes leaky toilets, etc. Toller's church is under the financial and ecumenical wing of Abundant Life, a nearby megachurch where Joel Jeffers (a surprisingly un-showy, effective Cedric the Entertainer) is pastor. Toller does a little volunteering there, since there aren't really enough duties at First Reformed to fill his time, and checks in with Jeffers.

Jeffers isn't an unkind man, but his relationship with Toller holds a lot of casual disdain. He refers to First Reformed as "the souvenir shop church" and treats Toller more as a wayward child than a pastoral partner. He expresses concern, which borders on impatience, for Toller's recent health troubles and political/environmental leanings, which he worries will impinge on the big reconsecration celebration being financed by an energy tycoon (Michael Gaston).

"For you, every hour is the darkest hour," Jeffers counsels/criticizes.

The truth is Toller seems to be on a downward path with no turning. As the story opens, he has decided to keep a daily journal of his thoughts, which he sees as a form of prayer to replace the traditional kind he undertakes less and less. He starts out with the resolution that he will do this for a year, then shred and burn the handwritten pages so that no one ever reads them.

What is going to happen in 12 months? We don't know, but the self-imposed deadline doesn't portend well.

Schrader presents us with a bleak but bountiful portrait of a man in crisis, whose religion is failing him even as he tries to be a good shepherd. The director gives us stark spaces in his frame, such as Toller's residence nearly lacking in furniture, and fills them up with the turmoil of the soul.

The film reaches a crescendo when Toller is approached by a young married couple. Mary (Amanda Seyfried) is pregnant and worried about her husband, Michael (Philip Ettinger), who's become despondent about the lack of political movement on climate change, foreseeing the very end of mandkind.  Here is a reason to be a real clergyman again.

Toller and Michael's first counseling session is electric, in which Toller offers no sugar-coated reassurances or appropriate Bible quotations. He talks about his own struggles, and says that wisdom comes from having the ability to keep both despair and hope in your heart at the same time.

I'll say no more about what follows, other than even as Toller reengages as a reverend, his own temptations toward depression loom ever larger.

Hanging around the edges is Esther (Victoria Hill), the choir director at Abundant Life. She and Toller are friends, with hints at something more happening between them in the past. It's clear she wants more, and he does not have that which she needs him to give. Their final encounter is utterly naked in its raw, devastating emotions.

"First Reformed" is not the movie I expected. But even though I know some people will be disturbed or even offended at what transpires, in many ways it's a deeper, richer cinematic experience than I could have hoped for.

Review: "Gringo"

"Gringo" is a strange movie, and a hard one to review. I didn't particularly like it. Didn't particularly hate it, either. If there's a cinematic equivalent of eating a sustaining meal without ever really tasting your food, this is it.

I think it was going for a mix of comedy, action and intrigue, perhaps along the lines of "Midnight Run." Certainly, it did not achieve this.

The most notable thing about the movie is how forgettable it is... quite literally. I saw the film last night, got busy with other things, and forgot that I had to write this review.

Charlize Theron is pretty much the only thing interesting or compelling about it. She plays Elaine Markinson, the co-president of a shady pharmaceutical company that is developing a pill that copies the psychotropic effects of marijuana, while also playing footsie with the Mexican cartel on the side. There's a scene where they pitch the drug to an even bigger company, talking about how rapidly marijuana is becoming legalized.

I kept waiting for someone to ask why if pot is heading toward universal legality, anyone needs to buy a pill that simulates it?

Anyway, Elaine is a real piece of work, a land shark with absolutely no regard for others. Swims, eats, and f*cks, baby.

There's a pivotal scene where she berates herself for momentarily showing signs of basic humanity, which she interprets as weakness. A former beauty queen who enthusiastically wields sex as a weapon, Elaine divides the world into winners, and everybody else. "Guilt is for losers" is her mantra.

Her partner is Richard Rusk (Joel Edgerton), her gender opposite but spiritual mirror, so there's no surprise the two are carrying on an affair. Though the word "affair" connotes some sort of emotional connection, of which neither is capable. Richard is the type of guy who, when he's thirsty, doesn't bother asking his secretary to fetch him something, simply bellowing into the intercom, "I'm thirsty."

The ostensible main character is Harold Soyinka (David Oyelowo), a Nigerian immigrant who has discovered the American Dream isn't what it's cracked up to be. Married to a spendthrift (Thandie Newton, utterly wasted) who has driven them deep into debt, Harold is the quintessential white knight, a guy who believes that those who do good will find it returned to them.

Harold believes Richard is his friend, who gave him a job out of kindness. He couldn't be more wrong.

The running joke is that everybody in the movie is on some level out to get Harold. He's the patsy, the pushover, the naïf, the guy who's kept in the dark until it's time to pin something on him. Even one character, who shows up rather late in the game and whose mission is to save Harold, ends up trying to turn the screws to his advantage.

Harold has been making regular trips down to Mexico to oversee the company's operation there. Some inventory has turned up missing, which concerns him. He's also heard the company, Prometheon, may be swallowed up by a much larger competitor and he'll likely be out of work. Still, he soldiers on, doing good by everyone he interacts with -- even bringing Chicago barbecue to their head of security south of the border (Yul Vazquez).

What he doesn't know is Richard and Elaine have been secretly selling part of their stock to a Mexican drug lord. On the latest trip down south, things go awry, some blood is spilled and Harold is made wise to all those who have betrayed him.

Finally growing some moxie, Harold remembers the company has a kidnapping insurance policy for their executives, and hatches a scheme to blackmail them for $5 million. But it turns out Harold is worth more to them dead than a live, and soon it's all chase-chase and bang-bang.

Sitting on the sidelines of the story, without ever really providing a clear view of their role in it, are Amanda Seyfried and Harry Treadaway as Sunny and Miles, American tourists who have an ulterior purpose for their trip to Mexico.

Sharlto Copley turns up as a mercenary hired to rescue, then kill, Harold. He's recently had a change of heart and vocation in his own life, but we'll see if his newly kinder, gentler instincts will prevail.

Directed by Nash Edgerton (Joel's brother) from a script by Matthew Stone and Anthony Tambakis, "Gringo" is the sort of cinematic fodder that arrives in between behemoth releases, and is quickly crushed and forgotten. And probably deserves to be.

Review: "The Last Word"

“The Last Word” is the sort of movie that’s made explicitly for an aged screen legend to provide them with one last moment in the spotlight, and maybe a shot at an Oscar. This is Shirley MacLaine’s star vehicle swan song, as surely as “Venus” was Peter O’Toole’s.

I liked the movie, especially MacLaine’s irascible turn as a hateful old woman who’s shown to have inner depths and redeeming qualities.

The role borrows a little too heavily from her iconic portrayal of Ouiser Boudreaux in “Steel Magnolias.” And the screenplay (by Stuart Ross Fink) starts off on an edgy note and becomes progressively more filled with hugs and clichés, right down to the obligatory road trip and chirpy kid sidekick.

Still, it’s a winning turn from a master thespian. Aspiring actors would do well to watch how MacLaine tosses in subtle little expressions and glances that bend the character’s dialogue and behavior into shades of other meaning.

As the opening vignettes make plain, Harriet Lauler is a pill. She seems to have no friends or relations. A wealthy woman in her 80s, all she does is putter around her mansion, waited upon by a team of put-upon servants she deems incapable of doing their jobs. She doesn’t like the gardener’s (Gedde Watanabe, forever Donger from “Sixteen Candles”) clipping of the hedges, so she takes over and sends him home. The cook gets the same treatment.

Then she stumbles across an obituary of someone she knew, and is struck by all the wonderful things people said about the woman. Harriet’s dilemma is clear: What will they say about me? Nothing nice, she’s sure -- because she has made sure.

So the ultimate control freak sets out to have the ultimate last word: commissioning her obituary while she’s still alive, so it meets with her approval.

Harriet seeks out Anne Sherman, the 30ish obit writer at the Bristol Gazette, and orders her obituary -- even providing a list of 200 people to talk to. Harriet can do this because her old advertising firm kept the smallish-town newspaper afloat, and the fumbling inheritor publisher (Tom Everett Scott) complies because he’s… grateful? Afraid? Hopes she can help their bottom line? It’s a little unclear.

Anne dutifully talks to the people, and finds no one with anything good to say. “If I want your opinion, I’ll give it to you,” one former employee quotes Harriet. Forbidden from talking to the ex-husband, Anne seeks him (Phillip Baker Hall) out anyway; he refuses to disavow Harriet’s warts but doesn’t regret marrying her.

When the first draft of the obituary is dead on arrival, Harriet takes her self-dealing to the next level and enlists Anne to help her do some benevolent/interesting things so there will be material to mine.

They visit a program for at-risk kids (“hooligans”), where the keen-eyed Harriet spots Brenda (AnnJewel Lee Dixon), a smart, mouthy girl railing against the stupidity of the Dewey decimal system. Harriet quasi-adopts her as a mentee, though we never really learn more about the girl other than she has plenty of sass and cutes to lighten things up.

Harriet also turns her newly helpful gaze upon Anne herself, asking about the essay book she’s always scribbling in -- but never shows anyone! -- and pushing her toward the hipster-handsome manager of the radio station that plays “independent music for independent minds.” She even dusts off her old record collection, waltzes into the same station and announces that she wishes to be a DJ.

(I found this whole sequence unintentionally hilarious, showing a tiny indie radio station with dozens of on-air talent hurrying about at all hours. Even huge radio offices more closely resemble crypts.)

Director Mark Pellington (“Going All the Way”) keeps things in a nice balance between comedy and pathos, showing us a portrait of a nasty person that we’re going to watch be painted over -- or have obscuring layers removed from -- to reveal a distinct, vibrant human.

“The Last Word” may not be the end-all in character studies, but it’s good enough to hold a place of honor on a legend’s filmography.

Video review: "Pan"

File "Pan" under biggest flops of the year that deserved much better. This delightful, rousing adventure is the Peter Pan origin story, how a spirited English orphan first found his way to Neverland and learned how to never grow up.

Levi Miller plays Peter, who gets kidnapped from his London orphanage by some henchmen of the dread pirate Blackbeard (Hugh Jackman) to slave away in his mines, searching for lost fits of faerie dust. It seems Blackbeard, who looks like he was dug up out of the ground 10 minutes ago, defeated Tinkerbell & Co. and is now ruling Neverland as a semi-sane despot.

With the help of an incorrigible rogue names James Hook (!), Peter manages to escape from the pirate's clutches and falls in with Princess Tiger Lily (Rooney Mara) and the Indians, leading to yet more adventures.

It's a mishmash of wildly disparate story elements -- part J.M. Barrie, part Indiana Jones, and even something of a musical with a couple of interludes put to modern tunes like "Blitzkrieg Bop" and "Smells Like Teen Spirit."

If all this sounds loopy and unhinged, that's because it is. Director Joe Wright ("Atonement") and script man Jason Fuchs have essentially used Barrie's novels as a mere jumping-off point for their own industrious imaginations. They've essentially "retconned" one of the most enduring fantasy tales of all time, stealing inspiration and turning it to their own purposes.

Somehow, I think Peter Pan's rascally heart would approve of the appropriation. This is one flight of fancy worth booking.

Bonus features are decent, though not expansive. The DVD comes with only one making of featurette, "The Boy Who Would Be Pan."

Upgrade to the Blu-ray combo pack and you add three more featurettes: "Wondrous Realms," "The Scoundrels of Neverland" and "Never Grow Up: The Legend of Pan." Director Wright also provides a feature-length commentary track.

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Review: "Pan"

The latest big-screen iteration of the Peter Pan legend is rather a mess, but it’s an exhilarating mess. “Pan” mixes astonishing CG action, plucky kids, goofy musical interludes with modern pop songs, and Hugh Jackman as a fey villain who looks like he got kicked out of a “Hedwig and the Angry Inch” audition.

The result is a thrill ride of a movie by parts giddy and scary, a joyful exercise in prodigious imagineering. It’s the rare kids’ movie that parents may actually prefer.

The story – screenplay by Jason Fuchs, based on the J.M. Barrie characters -- is essentially a prequel/retcon of the Peter Pan mythology. We’re pre-Wendy & Co. here, focusing instead on how a cheeky British orphan first became the tights-wearing, flying, smirking never-grow-upper.

Most of the familiar gang is here: Smee, Tinkerbell, Lost Boys, Princess Tiger Lily, etc. But they’re living in a despoiled Neverland much grimmer than what we’re used to. The biggest curveball is James Hook, still young and unhooked, who throws off the shackles of his innate cynicism to become Peter’s ally and best friend.

(No hint as to how their relationship and his hand came to be, uh, detached.)

It’s a corker of a performance by Garrett Hedlund, who manages to suggest some of the verbal idiosyncrasies and vanity of Captain Hook, but with a cowboy American bent. He wears a long duster coat and an Indiana Jones hat, flirts shamelessly with Tiger Lily (Rooney Mara) and regards Peter as a wayward kid brother.

Levi Miller plays Peter, and he’s solid in the role, blue eyes perpetually wide, though the character as written is a bit generic and bland. He’s the window through which we experience this fantastical world, and -- as is so often the case with this kind of moviemaking -- the frame is not meant to draw the eye.

The real head-turner – and scratcher, as some will see it – is Jackman’s pirate Blackbeard. He’s just… well, his own thing. He wears extravagant Renaissance-style costumes, has a ghostly pallor and feral teeth, and the dark circles around his eyes are so deep it seems like he’s staring at you from out of a graveyard hole. He’s part tyrant, part fop, all wicked.

Blackbeard, having defeated the faeries of Neverland in a war, is mining every speck of the island for remnants of their dust, or pixin, which he uses for his secret and nefarious purposes. He dispatches his flying pirate ships into the “real world” – England during WWII – to nab orphan boys to be used as laborers in his mines. Peter, who was left as a babe on the steps of the Lambeth Home for Boys by his mum along with a pan flute locket, is one such snatchee.

His introduction to Neverland is ostentatious, and odd. In a vast mining pit where boys toil with pickaxes, they pause in their labors to exalt Blackbeard with an a capella rendition of Nirvana’s “Smells Like Teen Spirit,” with the great pirate joining in himself. The Ramones’ “Blitzkrieg Bop” gets similar use for a battle scene.

Usually in movie musical scenes people sing to address somebody else, or narrate their own actions, but here Blackbeard and crew are essentially serenading themselves for its own sake. Maybe it would’ve worked better if it was more consistent, but just those two tunes are employed.

To paraphrase Robert Downey Jr.’s character in “Tropic Thunder,” you should either go full musical, or not bother.

Peter bumps into James, who possibly has been mining there since he was a boy himself, and is rather sour about it. They soon bust out together, with perennial sidekick Smee (Adeel Akhtar) tagging along, fall in with Tiger Lily and the Indians, who here are a full multicultural gamut of castoffs. Peter, who has demonstrated nascent flying abilities, is embraced as their Chosen One who will free the banished faeries from the secret hidey place.

Director Joe Wright is best known for costume dramas like “Atonement,” “Pride & Prejudice” and “Anna Karenina.” But he seems to have found his inner child with this film, relishing high adventure and fantasy without reservation.

I don’t doubt some will find “Pan” weird and off-putting. But if you’re willing to view Barrie’s writings as inspiration rather than sacred text, you’ll find a delightful spree that captures the quintessence of childlike wonder.

Review: "Ted 2"

The line between television and the movies has gotten blurrier, but it's still there.

Even with grander ambitions, big budgets and a show spanning nine weeks being dubbed a "season," television is just a fundamentally different medium than movies.

One of the chief ways is pacing. TV starts and stops -- a lot. Aside from the episodic nature of, well, episodes, you've got all those commercials and credits. Plus no one thinks anything of hitting the pause button to get a snack, or starting a show one day and finishing it a week later.

With movies, you're required to invest in the experience. You're locked in, and there shouldn't be room for distraction. So when a film can't find a stable rhythm, it ends up throwing off the audience, too.

"Ted 2," like its predecessor, is a schizophrenic flick that goes a million miles a minute one moment, then slows down to an aching crawl the next. It's got some really funny bits, spaced pretty far apart, but also some strangely treacly parts and even some stuff that's intended to be inspiring.

This, in a movie where the main characters visits a sperm donation clinic, one of them stumbles into some samples and gets doused in... uh, manly fluids.

Watching it is a whiplash experience. You never quite know where the movie's going to go next, so when a moment arrives you kind of brace for impact, wondering whether you're supposed to laugh or go, "Awwww."

You know the story: Ted, a teddy bear who came alive through the power of a child's wish, grew up into a profane little fuzzy dude who likes to smoke bongs and say the f-word a lot. He hangs with his human best buddy Johnny (Mark Wahlbeg), and they get high a lot and talk crudely about women, gays, minorities, etc.

This go-round there's a question about Ted's standing as a person. When he and his Boston tramp wife, Tami-Lynn (Jessica Barth), try to adopt a kid -- Ted lacks the pertinent parts to father one himself -- he loses his legal status, his job and his mojo. They get a lawyer and go to court, with Amanda Seyfried playing the young attorney who takes their case and gets doe-eyed with Johnny.

Seth MacFarlane, who co-wrote, directed and does the voice of Ted, is a pretty brilliant and brilliantly successful TV guy -- "Family Guy," "American Dad," etc. He instinctively gets the medium, its history and its foibles. But he seems determined to segue into movies, despite lacking a knack for it.

Oh, I know, I know... the first "Ted" made a half-billion dollars at the box office and earned him a gig hosting the Oscars. Popularity and accomplishment aren't the same thing.

At a tick under two hours the movie is way too long, and plenty of sections seem like filler. At several points "Ted 2" unabashedly steals scenes from other, better movies like "Planes, Trains and Automobiles" and "The Breakfast Club." Maybe they're supposed to be homages, but they come across as self-indulgent and unnecessary.

You will laugh at "Ted 2," but you will also be bored. I kept wanting to fast-forward, but it's the wrong kind of screen.

Review: "While We're Young"

Writer/director Noah Baumbach makes movies that often seem lightweight at first glance, even frivolous, but creep up on you with their hefty themes and cerebral contemplations.

The newest from the filmmaker behind “The Squid and the Whale” and “Frances Ha” is “While We’re Young,” about a married couple in their 40s (Ben Stiller and Naomi Watts) who fear life has passed them by and want another shot at youthful liberation. They do so using another couple who are about 20 years younger as surrogates, befriending them and absorbing their carefree lifestyle.

“Young” is simultaneously very funny and very thoughtful. The movie is trenchantly observant about how we live today as individuals within a changing society, especially how evolutions in technology have affected the ways in which we communicate with each other and tell stories – for good or ill. (Mostly ill, in Baumbach’s take.)

Baumbach visited some of these same themes in “Greenberg,” which also starred Stiller as a Generation X guy trying to fit in with the Millennials, and looking poorer for the effort.

Josh (Stiller) is a formerly successful documentary filmmaker whose career has been swallowed by his latest project, 10 years in the making and not any closer to completion, or even coherence. It’s something about power in America, but not only is Josh incapable of summing it up in an elevator speech for potential financial backers, he couldn’t even do it if they took the stairs.

His wife Cornelia (Watts) is a producer for her father (Charles Grodin), a storied documentarian – think Pennebaker or Maysles -- who used to be Josh’s mentor until they diverged on aesthetics. Josh promotes the idea of the “personal documentary,” in which the filmmaker is an active participant in shaping a narrative.

Cornelia and Josh get along seemingly well. They’ve got their work, they don’t seem to want for money, and they have a small circle of acquaintances their own age. But there’s an undercurrent of regret there.

They have no children (after failed attempts years ago), and feel estranged from their closest friends, Marina and Fletcher (Maria Dizzia and Adam Horovitz, both terrific), who just had a baby that their lives now revolve around. And Cornelia sits in the middle of the schism between her husband and father.

Things change when they meet Jamie and Darby, played by Adam Driver and Amanda Seyfried. They’re 25-ish hipsters, married but otherwise seemingly untethered to adulthood. He’s an aspiring filmmaker who attends one of Josh’s classes, and she makes her own ice cream. In very short order the two couples have glommed onto each other, with Jamie seeking professional help from Josh and Cornelia finding emotional support from her counterpart.

This section contains quite a lot of laugh moments, such as Cornelia’s horror after being roped into her friend’s baby music class, or Josh pathetically copycatting Jamie’s slouchy fedora and vinyl obsession. There’s also a great scene in which they attend a New Age-y session where people drink ditch water to inspire hallucinations and purge the soul (and stomach). Stiller ponders dizzily, sounding like Marlon Brando in “Apocalypse Now.” And the shaman, who rides a hip Vespa, frets about his charges purging onto his carpet.

But things get more somber, and smarter, as time goes on. Jamie, played assuredly by Driver, proves to be a sly manipulator, affecting too-cool nonchalance while quietly directing events in his favor. Josh begins to resent his young pupil/guru and his film methodology, especially regarding a project about a disturbed Afghanistan veteran (Brady Corbet).

If the film has a weak spot, it’s that the female characters start out as full partners in the storytelling process and gently recede into the background. The movie becomes more and more focused on Jamie/Josh, with the Grodin character as the third leg.

My objection is a mild one, based not on political correctness but regret for missed opportunities for insight. At 97 minutes, this is the rare film these days that could stand to be longer.

In many ways, “While We’re Young” is Noah Baumbach’s most mature work to date. For a little while I thought the movie had simply forgotten to be funny, but it was deliberately morphing into a second half that is decidedly less jovial but inarguably more profound. Such is life, and moviemaking.

Video review: "Epic"

“Epic” is an animated movie with a big name but a small story to tell. And I mean literally tiny -– it’s set in the secret world of the forest where miniscule creatures battle between good and evil.

One the one side is Leafmen, micro-sized soldiers who wear nuts, sticks and what have you as armor. They protect the land from decay and intrusion by the Boggans, little insectoid creatures led by the villainous Mandrake (Christoph Waltz).

The set-up is that this long-running war has happened virtually under the noses of humans, who are too lumbering and self-absorbed to see the wee critters. Except, that is, for a half-mad scientist who studies them without much success. His estranged daughter Mary Katherine (Amanda Seyfried) comes to visit and is accidentally shrunk down to the size of the Leafmen, and soon joins them in their quest.

It seems the old queen of the forest has fallen to Mandrake’s schemes, and unless a new magical seed pod is brought to just the right place at just the right time, it will bloom in darkness and evil will reign.

Narratively, “Epic” has too much going on, with a romantic side story involving M.K. and a wayward Leafman (Josh Hutcherson), a psychedelic wise man voiced by Steven Tyler, and a pair of sluggish doofs who act as comic relief.

The life-lessons parts are slathered on a little too heavy, with M.K. and her dad learning to bond, the young Leafman finds out that working together as a team isn’t so bad, and so on.

It is a great-looking picture, and director Chris Wedge (“Ice Age”) has a nice feel for action and landscape.

Fast-paced and filled with cartoony action, “Epic” should entertain little kids well enough, though their parents might be tempted to wander out of the room.

Video extras are quite good, and you don’t have to buy the most expensive package to get some nice stuff.

The DVD comes with several featurettes, including an educational one about real-life insects who use camouflage. There’s also a mobile app (for Android and iOS) that allows kids to color and create their own adventure, even recording their own voice, and play it back for others.

Upgrade to the Blu-ray combo pack, and you add another featurette and a comprehensive making-of documentary, “Mysteries of Moonhaven Revealed.”

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Video review: "Les Misérables"

“Les Misérables” did not get the love it deserved.

Critics were respectful but not swooning. Audiences showed up but did not stampede the box office. It won Oscars in a couple of technical areas, but Anne Hathaway’s transcendent performance as Fantine is the only aspect of the film to win universal praise.

For me, it was the most emotionally transporting cinematic journey I took in 2012. This crusty old critic actually welled up several times watching it.

This the first time the stage musical version of Victor Hugo’s novel has made it to the screen, and it’s a pageant of songs, gorgeous costumes and sets, and actors pouring out their hearts.

You may have already heard about this aspect of production, but it’s still astonishing: all the singing you hear was recorded live on-set, as opposed to being dubbed in later from a studio (which is standard practice in Hollywood for dialogue, let alone song).

The story follows Jean Valjean (Hugh Jackman), an escaped criminal who redeems himself through helping others, though it earns him no reprieve from Javert (Russell Crowe), the wolfish lawman who hunts him.

Along his travels he encounters a gallery of characters, some pure and some foul. There’s Fantine (Hathaway), who resorts to prostitution to support her daughter Cosette (Amanda Seyfried). And the slimy opportunists the Thénardiers (Helena Bonham Carter and Sacha Baron Cohen). There is Marius (Eddie Redmayne), the brave insurgent who loves Cosette and is in turn secretly loved by street urchin Éponine (Samantha Barks).

All the wondrous music from the stage version is there, along with one or two new songs composed specifically for the movie. The stars generally acquit themselves well in song, with Hathaway the clear standout.

Whether you’re a fan of musicals or not, “Les Misérables” hits a very high note.

The video is being released with an excellent spread of extras. Even the DVD version comes with a healthy serving, including feature commentary by director Tom Hooper and several featurettes focusing on the cast, production design and Hugo’s novel.

Upgrade to the Blu-ray/DVD combo and you add several other features, including the locations used during production and the battle scene. The high point is the section focusing on the challenge of delivering live singing performances on set.

Movie: 3.5 stars out of four
Extras: 3.5 stars

Review: "Les Misérables"

Epic yet intimate, "Les Misérables" is an astonishing cinematic feat.

Here is Victor Hugo's sprawling novel, which has been adapted to film numerous times and then turned into a smash Broadway musical, and now returns as the movie version of that stage production. It boasts the same huge cast of characters, dozens of songs and outsized production backdrop of a turbulent 19th century France, building up to the June Rebellion of 1832.

Yet, when Jean Valjean (Hugh Jackman) or Fantine (Anne Hathaway) or the other figures are pouring out their souls in song, the artifice of the theater melts away and it feels like they're singing not for an audience but for themselves.

Director Tom Hooper, who won an Oscar a couple of years ago for "The King's Speech," and his team have crafted a marvelous rendition of something familiar. This "Les Misérables" is fresh and vibrant, with a populist message about the people of the streets rising up against the ultra-wealthy.

But most importantly, this is the story of people about whom we come to care very deeply. It doesn't hurt that the singing stars are generally tremendous, with Hathaway the clear standout. Jackman, a veteran song-and-dance man, expertly belts his way through some big set pieces. And Russell Crowe surprises us with a resonant and heartfelt baritone.

The thing that's most amazing about the crooning is that the actors were actually recorded live on the set, and that's what we hear. Usually such things are re-dubbed in a looping studio after the fact. The result is thus imperfect in pitch, but intentionally so. Hooper's bold choice only adds to the sense that the music is happening spontaneously in front of the audience, rather than being rendered flawlessly for us.

Hathaway's scene where Fantine wallows in her misery with "I Dreamed a Dream" -- perhaps the best-known song from the musical -- is the encapsulation of this approach. Hathaway sings the entire thing in one uninterrupted take, her face filthy and her hair shorn to a horrid buzz, her voice rising from a whisper to a shout as her emotions boil over from self-pity into anger.

It's an absolutely gobsmacking moment, and one of the most arresting performances of any movie this year.

Hugo's story is so well-known as to be considered iconic: Valjean, hardened by 19 years of imprisonment for stealing bread, has his world turned around when a lonely old priest shows him a tremendous kindness. He becomes a man of supreme altruism and virtue, but ironically must break the law to do so.

Forever pursued by the relentless police inspector Javert (Crowe), who abides by the strict dictates of the law over true justice, Valjean leaves behind his name and identity to become the mayor of his town and the wealthy owner of a factory. Fantine, one of his workers, is discharged for dubious reasons and turns to ever sadder means to support her daughter Cosette (Isabelle Allen).

Valjean eventually learns of her plight, and pledges to care for Cosette, rescuing her from the clutches of the Thénardiers (Sacha Baron Cohen and Helena Bonham Carter) -- purported innkeepers who employ every method, legal or otherwise, to get their percentage. He raises her to womanhood (Amanda Seyfried takes over the role) where she falls for an idealistic young rebel named Marius (Eddie Redmayne).

As their student rebellion snowballs into violence, all these disparate forces clash in one dramatic upheaval of love, loyalty and strife.

The soaring songs, the bitter tragedy, the majestic sweep -- "Les Misérables" is a standing-ovation triumph.

3.5 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: "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

Review: "Letters to Juliet"

When you see as many romantic comedies as I do, you practically shiver when you spy one on your calendar. After a thousand Meet Cutes and a thousand 90-minute dances in which the couple pretends to hate each other right up until the moment they realize they're in love, one craves something with a modicum of originality and heartfelt emotion.

Blow some kisses to "Letters to Juliet" for having both, if in modest quantities. The cast is attractive and engaging and we like spending time with them (with one notable exception), and all the gorgeous Tuscan landscapes are almost worth the price of admission by themselves.

Amanda Seyfried is some kind of workaholic, appearing in five movies in the last two years in addition to starring in the HBO series "Big Love." Here she plays Sophie, an ambitious wannabe writer who finds a long-lost love letter while traveling in Tuscany, and resolves to reunite the lovers and rekindle the romance. Of course, she finds some of her own along the way.

That might sound nice, except that she's already engaged to Victor (Gael Garcia Bernal), a chef who's about to open his own restaurant in New York, and seems to view the trip as an opportunity to meet with suppliers and scout out exclusive vineyards.

Bored, Sophie visits the Casa de Giulietta in Verona, supposed home of the family that inspired "Romeo and Juliet." There's a tradition of visitors (read: women) attaching letters about their romantic troubles on the wall, and Sophie stumbles across "Juliet's secretaries" -- women who collect the letters, and answer them.

Beneath a broken brick Sophie finds a worn letter written in 1957 by Claire, an English girl who ran away from Lorenzo, her Italian lover. She writes her back, and to Sophie's surprise Claire herself appears a few days later, with her grandson in tow. Claire resolves to find her soul mate, and Sophie, sensing a good story, tags along.

I'm don't think I'm giving away anything in saying that Claire eventually finds her Lorenzo. The trailer for "Juliet" happily gives away this information, and even if it didn't, the parameters of a film like this demand such a resolution. Vanessa Redgrave -- still a stunner at 73 -- invests the character with a shy sort of determination that's enchanting.

Less interesting is the romance on the main stage. Claire's grandson Charlie is a completely stock character -- the uptight British prig whose fussiness and constant annoyance at the female lead are supposed to mask the passionate heart beneath. Hugh Grant and Colin Firth milked this sort of role for years.

I don't blame actor Christopher Egan, who's just playing the cards screenwriters Jose Rivera and Tim Sullivan dealt him. The trouble is, they spend so much time making Charlie an unlikable twit, that when Sophie starts to fall for him we don't understand what it is she's supposed to be seeing.

Director Gary Winick has a nice eye for capturing the rolling hills and dirt roads of the countryside, the pastoral outdoor feasts, and the colorful Italian folk who all seem to have an instinctive understanding of the emotional logic of Claire's quest for lost love, and never question it.

Except for Romeo being such a star-cussed jerk, "Letters to Juliet" is an agreeable romp. In romcom terms, it may not be a soul mate, but makes for a pleasant enough one-off blind date.

2.5 stars out of four

Review: "Chloe"

"Chloe" is a superbly acted, expertly made sex thriller. It stars Julianne Moore and Liam Neeson as a married couple experiencing a case of the middle-age blahs. It's a treat to watch these skilled veterans executing their craft, as their characters live together without really communicating, their emotional estrangement almost a physical presence between them.

But the film's real punch to the jaw is Amanda Seyfried in the femme fatale title role. The nice girl from Allentown who has been defined by her all-American parts in "Dear John" and "Mamma Mia!" astonishes us with a highly sexualized turn as a prostitute who becomes obsessed with her client.

A few months ago, Seyfried played straight woman to Megan Fox in "Jennifer's Body." With "Chloe," Seyfried's screen sizzle makes the overheated Fox seem like an ice queen.

Moore plays Catherine, a successful gynecologist who would seem to have it all. She lives in a sleek modern Toronto mansion, has a handsome music professor husband in David (Neeson) and a talented musician son, Michael (Max Thieriot).

But little cracks in her facade hint at deeper fault lines. She's annoyed at the way David flirts with seemingly every younger woman he meets. When he misses his plane and fails to show for the elaborate birthday party she spent months planning, Catherine suspects he's having an affair.

Happening upon Chloe, an alluring young courtesan, Catherine hires her to throw herself at David. At first she just wants to see if her husband will respond to temptation. But as Chloe's meetings with David continue -- and she regales Catherine with tales of their increasingly passionate encounters -- the film wades into some seriously kinky territory.

Devastated by the realization of her husband's adultery, Catherine starts to rely on Chloe's stories for her own sexual satisfaction. There's a scene where Catherine fantasizes about the two of them together while she pleasures herself in the shower.

For her part, Chloe seems to feed upon this erotic tension. Soon she's showing up unannounced at Catherine's office, acting as if they're friends. When Catherine is most vulnerable, Chloe becomes the aggressor, leading to some scenes that ... well, let's just say that I'm sure the MPAA gave them a good look-see.

Seyfried shows flashes of coquettishness, followed swiftly by an almost shark-like quality as she hones in on her target. At one point Catherine asks her how she can focus so on a client, with not just her body but the entirety of her person.

"I try to find something to love in everybody. Even if it's a small thing," Chloe says.

Based on a French film, "Chloe" was written by Erin Cressida Wilson, who has explored sexual territory before in "Secretary" and "Fur." The film was directed by Atom Egoyan, who doesn't shy away from depicting how people can use sex as a weapon, or as a means of self-deception.

There's one scene where Chloe finds pleasure by staring at some of Catherine's stiletto heels that elicits a frisson as taboo as anything you're likely to encounter with a mainstream film.

"Chloe" suffers somewhat from a predictable plot. The film builds to a big reveal near the end that sharper audience members will see coming a ways off. But it's a daring, splendidly acted portrait of two women who are not so unlike as one of them might like to think.

3 stars

Review: "Dear John"

Amanda Seyfried and Channing Tatum make for a cute couple in "Dear John," a romantic drama about a soldier separated by war from the girl he loves. But I never quite bought them as a real, passionate pair of star-crossed lovers as in "The Notebook," which like this movie was adapted from a novel by Nicholas Sparks.

OK, let's be frank here: Ryan Gosling of "Notebook" is one of the finest actors of his generation, with an Oscar nomination for "Half Nelson" and edgy performances in movies like "Lars and the Real Girl." Tatum starred in the dancing movie "Step Up" and its sequel, the street boxing movie "Fighting" and that execrable "G.I. Joe" flick.

So although we may believe Tatum as a big, tough Army Special Forces warrior, he's less convincing when he's making goo-goo eyes at Seyfried.

He plays John Tyree, who catches the eye of Savannah Curtis when he dives off a beach pier to rescue her fallen handbag. She invites him back to her place for a party, and pretty much overnight they're an item.

There are hurdles. Savannah's preppy friends don't care for the working-class soldier, and there's some indication that John's past is marred by troubles with his temper. Also, John's father (Richard Jenkins) is a virtual recluse who spends all day puttering around with his coin collection, barely speaking to his son or anyone else.

Savannah thinks John's dad has a mild form of autism, with which she is familiar because her next-door neighbor (Henry Thomas) has a young son with it. Her attempt to break through dad's shell creates friction between the young couple.

Being a soldier, John soon hears the call of duty that takes him far away. I don't think I'm treading into spoiler territory by revealing that she eventually dumps him via a letter. The movie's title, after all, is synonymous with such wartime separations.

Since this happens a little more than halfway through, it obviously isn't the end of their story together. But more than that, you'll have to discover for yourself.

Director Lasse Hallström ("Chocolat") and screenwriter Jamie Linden avoid the worst pitfalls of the romantic genre, with a story about a group of people that feels untidy but authentic. The romance between John and Savannah is the center of this little world, of course, but it's hardly the only thing going on.

Unfortunately, the stuff in the background is more interesting than the main action. Seyfried has a nice, slightly goofy charm. Tatum is certainly movie-star handsome, but doesn't project much of an emotional center.

(A quibble: I found it odd that the movie is explicitly set in Charleston, but only one character is ever heard with a Southern twang. Carolina accents are not exactly easy to miss.)

I just didn't have any strong reaction to "Dear John." I give it points for avoiding predictability. But it's never a good sign when the best way to describe how you feel about a movie is indifference.

2 stars