Video review: "Fast & Furious Presents: Hobbs & Shaw"

I didn’t know that a movie franchise could “present” a spinoff, but I’m not sure if anybody would buy a ticket to “Hobbs & Shaw” if they didn’t know it was part of the “Fast & Furious” universe. But it made its pile of money, helped by the branding as well as the star power of Dwayne Johnson and, to a much lesser extent, Jason Statham.

They played late-addition fringe characters next to Vin Diesel and his company of street racers, and here get their own 2-plus-hour movie to smack people around and toss strangle-throated one-liners and occasionally drive cars.

I pretty well loathed “Fast & Furious Presents: Hobbs & Shaw,” because it’s a totally uninteresting garbage movie. The silliness of the title, complete with dueling ampersands, only adds to the reasons to mock it.

Personally I would’ve called the movie “Bald Guys Grunt and Kick People” and be done with it.

Johnson is Hobbs, a U.S. government badass who gets loaned out for all sorts of tough jobs. Statham is Shaw, a criminal turned British MI6 agent who appreciates the finer things in life. They’re thrown together to track down Snowflake, a viral weapon with the potential to kill everyone on Earth.

Idris Elba plays the villain, Brixton Lore, who’s been cybernetically augmented so he’s more than a match for Hobbs and Shaw in hand-to-hand combat, even together. Vanessa Kirby plays Shaw’s sister, a capable agent in her own right who gets in between the two alpha dudes.

There’s a car-chasing-a-helicopter scene that’s not too bad, and later on the gang travels to Hobbs’ homeland of Samoa so they can have an old-school beat-down against the bad guys using medieval weapons and traps.

This is an egregiously dumb, ugly movie. I’m torn between laughing at it and hating it.

Bonus features are in inverse proportion to the quality of the film. There’s a feature-length commentary track with director David Leitch; extended and deleted scenes; an alternate opening; and a baker’s dozen of documentary shorts focusing on various aspects of production, from the star duo pairing to the stunt coordination.

Movie: D-
Extras: B+

Review: "Fast & Furious Presents: Hobbs & Shaw"

My gosh, it just keeps going and going, doesn’t it?

Officially the runtime of “Fast & Furious Presents: Hobbs & Shaw” -- and yes, Hollywood title insanity has reached the point of two ampersands -- is two hours and 15 minutes. But it feels much, much longer. If it’s possible to be bored by a movie in the middle of slo-mo explosions, then here it is.

For my money, the secondary characters of Luke Hobbs (Dwayne Johnson) and Deckard Shaw (Jason Statham) were the least interesting of the F&F universe. The latter is a thief/mercenary turned British MI6 agent, while the former is a badass agent of the Diplomatic Security Service (Google it, it’s a real thing) who is often loaned out to the CIA.

They clashed in some of the earlier movies, or so I’m told, those movies coming so fast and so furious -- and ever further afield from a simple story of street racers -- that they long ago became a blur in my mind.

The gig is they’re brought together on a job, and spend that 135 minutes sneering and snarling at each other, in between a whole lot of beat-downs, the aforementioned explosions and some occasional car chases. Of course, we know they’re going to bond in the end.

Watching this movie play out is an exercise in foregone conclusions. We know there will be some early double-crosses. There will be a beautiful woman they can fight about. There will be a bad guy who somehow seems more than a match for two action-movie heroes. And Dwayne Johnson will wear T-shirts three sizes too small for him, with one obligatory shirtless scene for the two weeks he was doing extreme water weight cutting.

I had high hopes for Johnson once. He was doing quirky comedic roles in “Be Cool” and developing into an interesting performer. Somewhere along the way he got obsessed with being a 1950s-style screen muscleman. His body has become a grossly swollen mass of veins. His star persona is indelibly linked to freakishness now.

I guess it gets box office, but he’s lost something along the way -- realism and relatability, to start.

Vanessa Kirby plays a rogue MI6 agent accused of stealing CT17, aka Snowflake, a deadly virus that could kill everyone on Earth. Actually, she was set up by the evil Eteon corporation, and injected herself with the virus to keep it from falling into their hands. Hobbs and Shaw are brought in to locate her and secure the MacGuffin.

Idris Elba plays Brixton Lore, a cybernetically enhanced villain who actually refers to himself as “the bad guy.” Later on he brags to our boys that he’s “black Superman.” Certainly he seems to have the upper hand in their early encounters.

I usually enjoy Elba in just about anything, but he doesn’t see to be having much fun here. Before every fight he says something cryptic and then his eyes briefly glow amber to let us know he’s Terminator Lite or something.

Director David Leitch piles on the shaky-cam like a 4-year-old put in charge of dispensing the whipped cream. Screenwriters Chris Morgan and Drew Pearce ladle in copious one-liners, our two bald badasses growling in that strangled croak all action heroes seem to use now.

Where will it all end? Are we going to keep getting Fast & Furious movies -- and now spinoffs -- until absolutely everyone in the world objects? As long as people keep buying tickets, or Johnson’s pecs finally fall or fast cars are outlawed.

Review: "The Nutcracker and the Four Realms"

The Nutcracker is a timeless tale interrupted by a whole lot of unfortunate dancing. Purists may be offended by the radical rejiggering Disney has given the story in “The Nutcracker and the Four Realms,” but I found it to be a colorful, amusing cinematic fairy tale that will entertain young and old.

For the record: there is still some ballet, but it’s mercifully limited to just a couple of key scenes, plus some more modern dance variations over the closing credits.

This version bears only a passing resemblance to either the original short story by E. T. A. Hoffmann or the Nutcracker Ballet scored by Tchaikovsky. There’s still a magical realm with a mouse king, toy soldiers who come to life and a brave nutcracker captain. Beyond that, it’s essentially a new creation that uses the Nutcracker story as a mere jumping off point.

Mackenzie Foy plays Clara, daughter of a well-to-do family in 1890s London. Her mother has just died, and her father (Matthew Macfadyen) is shell-shocked and rigid. His wife left each of the three children a Christmas gift, and Clara’s is a beautiful silver egg. Unfortunately, it’s locked and there’s no key.

In this retelling, London is wonderfully multicultural and Clara is a brainy science girl instead of a silly thing obsessed with dresses and boys. She seeks out the help of her kindly godfather (Morgan Freeman), an inventor who raised her mother, who herself became a great scientist. This leads to the kingdom of the four realms, a place of magic and wondrous color.

Clara’s mother created this place when she was a little girl, and became its queen. With her absence the kingdom has fallen into disarray. The realms of flowers, ice and fairies are at war with the fourth realm, which used to have a name of its own but has gotten the Voldemort treatment since things went south.

Clara wanders into the forbidden fourth realm, a place of creepy overgrown forests and hooting owls, and finds the key only to have it stolen by a nasty little mouse. She enlists the aid of the Nutcracker Captain (Jayden Fowora-Knight), a fetching lad who appears to be wearing more makeup than Clara, or anyone else in the movie.

Mother Ginger (Helen Mirren) runs the fourth realm, and has a face that’s literally cracked by time or some other more nefarious cause. Eugenio Derbez plays the flower realm leader, Richard E. Grant is the frozen one, and Keira Knightley is the Sugar Plum Fairy. I wasn’t actually sure it was Knightley until well into the movie; her normally resonant voice is pitched up into a cutesy screech and her face heavily slathered with paint (though still not as much as the Nutcracker).

Directed by Lasse Hallström and Joe Johnston from a script by Ashleigh Powell and Tom McCarthy, “The Nutcracker and the Four Realms” is pitched very much in the fairy tale mold, with broad characters and knowing looks exchanged. The outcome is never really in doubt, but there are some good twists and amusing bits along the way.

The army of tin soldiers raised to fight Mother Ginger is clanking and scary. I should note my 8-year-old was skeptical going in but enjoyed the movie thoroughly, while my 5-year-old found some sequences a bit too intense.

This film is like an enchanting bauble you hang on a Christmas tree. It’s nice to look at and makes you smile, though it’s more for what it reminds you of than anything it actually does.

Review: "The Leisure Seeker"

There’s nothing really extraordinary about “The Leisure Seeker,” which is the very thing that makes it such a lovely little film.

Helen Mirren and Donald Sutherland play a couple in their 70s from Massachusetts who spontaneously embark on a journey to the Florida Keys in their 1975 Winnebago Indian, whose nickname supplies the film’s title. The old RV hasn’t seen a lot of action in a while, more a vehicle for memories of family vacations than an actual conveyance.

You could say the same of the pair, who seemingly have had their lives stuck in stasis for a long, long time.

It doesn’t take a lifetime for director Paolo Virzì and his quartet of screenwriters (based on the novel by Michael Adoorian) to reveal the purpose behind the trek. John Spencer (Sutherland) is struggling with some sort of dementia. Ella Spencer (Mirren) pops a lot of pills, and when she takes off her wig at night reveals the sort of short-cropped ‘do worn by chemotherapy patients.

The exact nature of their ailments is never stated, but we gather enough to know that Ella’s life is slipping away, while John’s memories are doing the same.

Like “The World’s Fastest Indian” and other road trip films involving seniors, the destination of where they’re going is less important than the reasons for setting off on this jaunt.

The Spencers have a variety of encounters along the way, some positive, a few not, most of them fleeting. Ella is a charming chatterbox who loves to talk to anybody, or everybody. John tends to trap people in long ruminations on Hemingway or other favorite writers, but usually winds up making a connection nobody expected.

Back at home, their grown children Will (Christian McKay) and Jane (Janel Moloney) are appalled at what’s going on. They had apparently convinced their parents to take some critical steps with regard to their lives -- likely involving institutions and/or hospitalization -- and are left worried sick, and resentful.

The usual sorts of encounters you might expect occur -- mechanical troubles, a run-in with Johnny Law, a meeting with miscreants -- but we never really doubt the couple will get where they’re going. Given John’s affinity for Hemingway, it’s no surprise that he’s always dreamed of seeing the (fantastically overrated, imho) writer’s home in Key West, and Ella wants to make that wish come true while there’s still a little time left.

What’s best about the movie is how it drills deep into a 50-year marriage, showing us that while the fire of passion can remain undimmed after all that time, there will naturally be resentments and recriminations that have piled up in the passing of years. John is peeved about Ella’s boyfriend prior to him, convinced she still pines for him, while Ella harbors suspicions about the many young coeds who were mentored by John in his role as a literature professor.

This is also a very realistic portrait of dementia. John can be spot-on one moment, then loses his way the next. He’ll protest his undying love for Ella, then a few minutes later confuse her for their next-door neighbor back home (Dana Ivey). “The Leisure Seeker” also shows us the strains placed on the caregiver, as Ella occasionally snaps after years of unceasing support.

Getting old is both a beautiful and scary thing, especially when two people in love do it together. Marriage is a journey, quite literally in this case, and the bumps in the road are often what we hold onto best.

Video review: "Monsters University"

Between “Planes” and “Monsters University,” the Pixar/Disney animation empire appears to be stuck in a rut. Once a fountainhead of original storytelling and innovative characters, lately they’ve been spinning out sequels that seemed to spring more from the minds of the marketing department than the creative wing of Walt’s shop.

“Monsters University” is a perfect example of the current state of Pixar -- an agreeable romp aimed squarely at the kindergarten-and-down crowd. It features a lot of cool screwy monsters, the estimable vocal talents of Billy Crystal and John Goodman, and not much else.

We’re going back in time to the college days of green, one-eyed ovoid Mike Wazowski (Crystal) and hirsute blue BMOC Sully (Goodman). Instead of pals they’re rivals squaring off to see who is the best scarer around.

When the top fraternities won’t take them, they’re forced to join the unhallowed ranks of Oozma Kappa, a frat full of losers that includes a middle-aged salesman, a two-headed monster with a split personality and a flaky dude who looks like a big purple “U.”

Playing the heavy is Helen Mirren as Hardscrabble, the old-school dean who doesn’t exactly take a shine to the big-headed frosh pair. She throws Sully and Mike out of the scare program, and to get back in they’ve got to pull together a team of reject monsters and win first prize at the annual Greek contest.

It’s mostly old hat, with a few funny bits and life-lessons moments. It gets a passing grade.

Video extras are quite good – provided you’re willing to spring for the more expensive Blu-ray/DVD combo. The DVD contains only with an audio commentary track and “The Blue Umbrella,” a charming little Pixar short film.

The Blu-ray package adds deleted scenes and nine making-of featurettes, including how to “age down” monsters who appeared in the original “Monsters, Inc.”

Movie:

Extras:

Review: "Monsters University"

I've always thought "Monsters, Inc." was the most underrated of the Pixar films. It came out the same years as "Shrek," which grabbed the Academy Award for animated feature and most of the limelight. But it was a sweet, playful story with a smart twist on the scary monsters every child imagines is hiding in their closet.

The sequel, or rather prequel, arrives 12 years later and can't meet the high standard set by its predecessor, though it's still an enjoyable romp. Since "Inc." pretty much wrapped up all the troubles facing that universe -- with the monsters switching to making tykes laugh instead of scream to solve their energy crisis -- there wasn't anywhere to go, story-wise.

Solution: go backward!

So we tag along as green, one-eyed cue ball Mike Wazowski (Billy Crystal) and furry blue behemoth James P. Sullivan (John Goodman) make their debut as freshmen on the campus of "Monsters University." Rather than best buds, they're rivals competing for status as the big scarer on campus (BSOC?).

There's an unavoidable disconnect here, since we know all the sweat and toil they put into horrifying kids will eventually come to naught. And Crystal and Goodman, two guys in their 60s trying to pass vocally as teenagers, sound like ... two guys in their 60s straining at the upper ends of their voice range.

Randall, the fearsome disappearing serpent voiced by Steve Buscemi, turns up in a bit part as Mike's awkward roommate, who falls in with the misguided popular crowd. It seems a poor use of a really good character.

The animation is terrific, and we get to see some more crazy variations of monster biology, including a snail student who races to get to class on time, unsuccessfully. I'd advise you to skip the 3D upgrade, since it doesn't really seem to add much to the spectacle.

The story boils down to a pretty standard college comedy, though toned down for a G rating compatible with even the smallest audience members. There are familiar jocks-versus-nerds contests, dissimilar fraternity brothers finding an unlikely bond, and even a scary dean cracking down on all the fun.

The dean, named Hardscrabble, is voiced by Helen Mirren and is the best creation in the new movie. She scritches about on chitinous legs with an insectoid torso, flies around on bat wings and always seems to be standing so her face is cast in shadow. Neat trick, that.

Hardscrabble, a legendary scarer in her own right, doesn't think either Mike or Sulley has what it takes. So they're forced to enter, and win, the annual Greek Scare Games in order to get back into her loathsome graces.

Rebuffed by the top fraternities, the boys have to join up with Oozma Kappa, a lame bunch of reject monsters ("We're O.K.!"). They include Don (Joel Murray), a tentacled middle-aged salaryman giving college another try; Squishy (Peter Sohn), a multiple-eyed pile of goop with a confidence problem; Art (Charlie Day), a dippy hippie type who looks like an inverted "U" with purple fur and four hands; and Terri/Terry (Sean Hayes and Dave Foley), a two-headed dude who doesn't always agree with himself.

There's some nice byplay as Sulley and Mike butt ... well, cranial surfaces. (Mike doesn't really have a head, unless you count his whole body as one.) The set-up is that Sullivan is the natural talent from a prodigious family of scarers who tries to skate by without trying, while Mike is a grind who knows the academia of fright in and out, but lacks that certain something.

Director Dan Scanlon and fellow screenwriters Robert L. Baird and Daniel Gerson are Pixar backbenchers called up for a turn at bat, and they acquit themselves without swinging for the fences. "Monsters University" is a reasonably fun, not terribly original but never boring ride with a pair of old, likable chums.

Note: the film is preceded by a 7-minute short, "The Blue Umbrella," written and directed by Saschka Unseld. It's about everyday city objects secretly coming to life, and it's a charming mix of hyper-realistic animation and cartoony tropes.

Review: "Hitchcock"

If Alfred Hitchcock hadn’t been a bona fide figure, Hollywood would’ve invented him. With his inverted-light-bulb physique and that pained slur of a monotone drawl, the great film director stood out both for his exemplary craftsmanship and his oddball image. In some ways his personal iconography has endured every bit as much as his movies.

“Hitchcock,” which puts the filmmaker under the microscope during the making of his landmark film “Psycho,” features a spot-on impersonation by Anthony Hopkins. Wearing an impressive body suit and extensive facial prosthetics to mimic the droopy mien of “Hitch” (as he preferred to be called), Hopkins evokes the spirit and personality of the man behind masterpieces like “Rear Window,” “North by Northwest” and “Vertigo.”

In this portrait, Hitchcock is both supremely self-confident and filled with obsessive fears about being a washed-up failure. At age 60, Hitch frets that his best days were behind him, that he is tainted by his association with television, and that he will never receive the accolades (i.e., an Academy Award) he feels are surely deserved.

But the movie, directed by Sacha Gervasi from John J. McLaughlin’s screenplay (based on a book by Stephen Rebello), goes further by exploring the relationship between Hitchcock and his wife, Alma Reville. And it’s in this journey that the film rises from amusing bauble to a full-throated and satisfying depiction of a great man and the unheralded woman who helped make him so.

Alma, played by Helen Mirren, dutifully performs the role of the loyal wife in public, but quietly seethes with resentment underneath. A talented editor and writer in her own right, she married a promising young director and made his career her own. Reville rewrote scripts, played the part of Hitch’s main sounding board and even (if this film’s depiction is to be believed) stood in for him behind the camera when his health failed.

As the story opens, Hitch is coming off the resounding success of "North by Northwest," but hasn't a clue as to what to make for his next picture. Some, including Alma, are quietly suggesting he retire with grace. Those calls become increasing urgent as he lights upon the gruesome story of Ed Gein, a serial murderer who chopped up his victims.

When the Hollywood press is repulsed by the topic, Hitchcock digs deeper. When Alma dismisses the story as cheap horror show, he is intrigued by the challenge: "What if someone really good made a horror picture?" he asks.

Realizing that his dream female star, Grace Kelly, is now unavailable due to having married into royalty, Hitch settles on Janet Leigh. As played by Scarlett Johansson, Leigh is a paragon of niceness and professionalism in a cutthroat business. At first she's ambivalent about Hitchcock, especially how he will handle the famous shower scene. But she eventually finds herself in his corner.

"Compared to Orson Welles, he's a sweetheart," she muses.

Her counterpoint is Vera Miles (Jessica Biel), whom Hitch had hoped to make a big star, but she rejected him to play the real-life role of wife and mother. It was part of his long fixation on "these blonde women of mystery" who regularly populated his films.

Hitchcock can't get the studio to finance "Psycho," so he ends up writing a check for $800,000 out of his own pocket. It threatens to bankrupt them, and Alma responds to being shut out of the creative process by collaborating with an old friend (Danny Huston) who's a little bit too familiar with the married "Mrs. Hitchcock."

Director Gervasi's only other film was the documentary "Anvil: The Story of Anvil," which looked at a washed-up heavy metal band. His switch to narrative storytelling is a seamless one, as he expertly plucks the audience's strings, much like composer Bernard Hermann's screeching violin strings in "Psycho."

At a crisp 98 minutes, "Hitchcock" is as taut as one of Hitch's own mystery thrillers.

3.5 stars out of four

Review: "The Debt"

"The Debt" is one of those "problem" movies about which you hear ill tidings. It was supposed to be released in 2010, and purportedly was one of the serious, somber-toned films that was expected to vie for Oscar nominations. But then its release was delayed. And then, it was delayed again.

Sometimes these sorts of films are never heard from again, until finally being pushed out onto video without fanfare. In the case of "The Debt," it's being dumped into theaters at the end of the summer, which is only a slightly kinder fate.

Usually when a movie is handled this way, it's a clear indication the studio thinks the movie has serious problems. Perhaps reshoots or ordered, or a massive re-editing. In any case, a pushed-back release is never a good sign.

So I was pleasantly surprised to encounter a gripping, well-told drama with splendid acting by some seasoned performers as well as younger thespians playing the same characters 30 years earlier.

It's the tale of a trio of Israeli Mossad agents sent  in 1965 to track down and arrest a Nazi doctor who committed unspeakable atrocities during the war. Complications arise, the mission is compromised, and decades later they're still dealing with the consequences of their actions.

No, "The Debt" is not worthy of any Oscar talk, and the last third or so wades into a tar pit of melodrama which bogs down the narrative somewhat. But the film never failed to engage me, and I am the better for having seen it.
The story opens with young Rachel (Jessica Chastain), an untried interpreter-turned-agent. She is guarding a man tied up and gagged in a dingy apartment. From the kitchen, she hears a noise, and returns to find the prisoner gone. He attacks her from the shadows, tearing her cheek open with a sharp object, and after a struggle escapes and flees into the night.

Despite her wounds, Rachel staggers to the window and manages to shoot the man dead with her pistol.
But is this really the whole story? Director John Madden ("Shakespeare in Love") and a trio of screenwriters -- Matthew Vaughn, Jane Goldman and Peter Straughan -- are just winding up. The tale grows deeper, and more twisted in a labyrinth of emotions and morality conflicts.

We soon meet Rachel's older self in the 1990s, played by Helen Mirren. With the twisted scar on her face and disqueting mien, she's become a hardened woman not to be trifled with.

We also learn that Rachel eventually married, and then divorced, the leader of her team, Stefan, played by Marton Csokas in 1965 and Tom Wilkinson later in life. Stefan was a supremely ambitious young agent, who purused Rachel more out of arrogance than affection, and has become a powerful figure in Israeli government.

The coupling of Rachel and Stefan is perplexing, because from their first meeting it's apparent that Rachel is powerfully drawn to David (Sam Worthington), the third member of their team. Whereas Stefan is boastful and domineering, David is quiet and reticent in displaying his feelings.

Stefan wants to capture Vogel, the so-called Surgeon of Birkinauw, because it was be a major feather in his cap career-wise. David, though, is motivated by a burning desire to capture those who persecuted Jews and see them punished.

Cirian Hinds plays the older David, long missing from the scene and suddenly reapparing with an request that could turn all their lives upside down.

Vogel is played by Jesper Christensen in a mesmerizing performance that's a mix of loathsomeness and charm. Rachel first seems him by posing as a patient with a fertility problem, and the doctor seems genuinely kind and concerned for her (fake) dilemma. But then when things go awry with the plant to smuggle him out of East Berlin, he slowly reveals the blackest of hearts to the trio holding him. With his taunts and his needling questions, in many ways Vogel becomes the captor of the agents, rather than the other way around.

The romantic entanglements of the three main characters detracts rather than adds to the story, in my opinion. The scenes where Stefan makes his moves on Rachel, as David quietly seethes, have an obligatory feel to them.

Still, "The Debt" is a well-made film, featuring two trios of fine actors and a seventh memorably playing their quarry. This is a worthy movie, despite how it's being treated.

3 stars

Video review: "Arthur"

I daresay audiences missed the boat on "Arthur."

This cute and clever remake of the 1981 hit romantic comedy starring Dudley Moore manages to follow the plot of the original fairly closely, but results in a very different -- but nearly equally enjoyable -- film experience.

That's mostly due to the casting of British comedian Russell Brand in the title role. Brand, known for his bad-boy image and hedonistic film characters, plays a sweet, almost innocent man-boy multi-millionaire happily drinking and partying away his life.

Unlike Aldous Snow, Brand's hedonistic character from "Forgetting Sarah Marshall" and "Get Him to the Greek," his Arthur has a good streak a mile long -- hidden underneath a wastrel life of debauchery.
Brand shows us the character's vulnerable and tender side, and it's something we've never seen out of him before. Turns out the Brit known for hard-core comedy has a softie inside.

As in the original, Arthur is threatened with disinheritance unless he marries a woman from an appropriate family (played by Jennifer Garner in rhymes-with-witch mode). But then he falls in love with a sweet working-class girl (Greta Gerwig) and decides to risk it all, with the tacit approval of his servant/life-lessons teacher Hobson, played by Helen Mirren.

Audiences stayed away in drove from this remake, but for once the reboot was actually a welcome one. Brand creates a thoroughly charming character who actually makes us forget about Dudley Moore, if only for a little while.

Video extras are the same for both Blu-ray and DVD versions, and are a bit disappointing.

You get "Arthur Unsupervised," a behind-the-scenes look at production with Brand and Director Jason Winer. It promises "fun footage, outrageous photos and ad-libs too wild for theaters." Meh.

There's also a gag reel and 10 minutes worth of deleted/extended scenes.

There's also a combo pack available that includes Blu-ray, DVD and digital copies of the film.

Movie: 3.5 stars out of four
Extras: 2 stars

Review: "Arthur"

Hollywood finally figured out what to do with kinky British comedian Russell Brand, and it turned up in the unlikeliest of places: A remake of a 30-year-old romantic comedy starring Dudley Moore.

Brand, best known for his hedonism-embracing rocker Aldous Snow in "Forgetting Sarah Marshall," combines a verbose patter of self-effacing commentary with the hair and dress code of Keith Richards circa 1975. He has often rubbed American audiences the wrong way, though he's a big star across the pond.

I recently heard an interview Brand did with NPR's Terry Gross, and was struck by how thoughtful and well-spoken he came across. Perhaps that paved the way to embracing his charming performance as Arthur, an impish millionaire man-boy who drinks only well-aged booze, but has defiantly resisted any maturation of his own.

It is, of course, Dudley Moore's signature role from the 1981 film written and directed by Steve Gordon who, alas, died young the year after it was released. I admit I resisted the idea of this remake -- and by such young hands, too. This is the first feature film for both director Jason Winer and screenwriter Peter Baynham.

But the two films, while nearly identical in plot, are largely divergent in their tone and humor. Brand creates a distinctive character based on his own persona, rather than trying to mimic Moore. He is by turns hilarious and touching, with an inner core of sweetness we haven't seen from him before.

Put it this way: If Aldous Snow -- also seen in the quasi-sequel to "Sarah Marshall," "Get Him to the Greek" -- was defined by a complete lack of guile in obscuring his loathsome core, then Brand's Arthur uses the trappings of the spoiled rich playboy to conceal the fact that he's really gentle and vulnerable inside.

No doubt you've also heard about the film's big casting twist, putting Helen Mirren in the role of Hobson, the stern servant played by John Gielgud in the original movie. Hobson's job, indeed her very life is given over to managing Arthur's drunken debauches and steering him ever so subtly -- and usually ineffectively -- toward the light.

Mirren turns out to be a grand slam, allowing a little bit of maternal warmth to shine through the relationship.
The basic story is unchanged. Arthur, a continual embarrassment to the Bach family, is ordered to marry a respectable woman by his powerful and emotionally distant mother (Geraldine James), or be cut off from the vast familial fortune. He reluctantly agrees, but then meets a dazzling poor girl who steals his heart away.

Naomi is played by Greta Gerwig, an indie film star who occasionally pops up in mainstream movies. She has a radiant smile and some smarts, too, and is initially resistant to Arthur's overtures. She eventually melts, though, after he makes some pretty extravagant overtures for their first date.

Jennifer Garner plays Susan, the all-too-wrong fiancée for Arthur. She's the hard-charging daughter of a manly-man construction magnate (Nick Nolte), and sees Arthur as part fix-it project, and part keys to the CEO chair of the Bach conglomerate.

The biggest compliment I can give to the new "Arthur" is that it made me forget about the old one, or at least not mind that they remade it. Rather than a bland retread, Russell Brand gives us a thoroughly funny, charming and irresistible character.

3.5 stars out of four

Review: "Red"

"Red" is an agreeable piffle, a fun action/comedy that's silly without being moronic. When I found out it was about retired CIA agents being hunted down by their former agency, I immediately thought a better title would have been "Old Spies Like Us."

"Red" actually stands for "Retired and Extremely Dangerous" -- the designation given to characters played by Bruce Willis, Morgan Freeman, John Malkovich and Helen Mirren. They range in age from Willis' Frank Moses, who's probably in his mid-50s, to Freeman's Joe Matheson, who's 80 and dying of liver cancer to boot.

Freeman is aged up convincingly and looks a bit frail, but Willis is lean and sleek, and still appears capable of laying down some serious hurt. Why would the CIA forcibly retire someone seemingly still in his prime? The question is never asked or answered, but this is not the sort of movie to dally with logistics.

The film is based on a graphic novel by Warren Ellis and Cully Hamner, though director Robert Schwentke and screenwriter siblings Jon and Erich Hoeber ditch the gritty tone for a light fun 'n' games feel. The comic book centered on Frank, but the movie adds new characters to make it an ensemble.

Malkovich plays Marvin Boggs, a wild ex-agent hiding out in the Florida swamps, whose paranoia about the government spying on him is tempered by the fact that he actually was secretly drugged with daily doses of LSD. Marvin has a nice bit where he squares off gunslinger-style with an opponent wielding a rocket launcher, and he shoots the missile out of the air.

Mirren is a delight as Victoria, a British retiree who breaks up her routine of gardening and cross-stitching with the occasional assassination contract. Mirren is kittenish and playful, and hell on wheels behind the eyesight of a large-caliber rifle.

Joe, meanwhile, fritters away his waning days in a New Orleans retirement home, ogling the nurses.

Frank lives in drab suburbia, putting up Christmas decorations simply because that's what his neighbors do. He receives monthly pension checks from the government that he rips up so he can call the accounting department to complain that they never arrived. This allows him to speak with Sarah, a worker drone with dreams of an exciting life.

Frank is sweet on her and longs for a normal life -- until a squad of black-ops types turn up at his home and try to kill him.

Sarah is played by Mary Louise-Parker in a turn so vibrant and likeable that it doesn't occur to us that her character is completely unnecessary to the story. After being kidnapped by Frank -- he figures if the government is gunning for him, they'll target Sarah, too -- she spends most of the movie literally standing around in the background while Frank, Victoria, Joe and Marvin ply their violent trade.

The plot is a twisting affair that you need not pay much attention to -- something to do with some nasty business down in Guatemala long ago. It's just an excuse to set up action scenes and humorous encounters.

Other figures in the mix include Richard Dreyfuss as a wicked arms dealer; Brian Cox as Frank's old Russian adversary; and Karl Urban as a young CIA agent tasked with taking down Frank, and finds himself getting schooled.

"Red" reminded me a bit of "Sneakers," a 1992 caper with Robert Redford about a bunch of washed-up, written-off spooks who get together for a new job. Both are well-made escapist entertainment, signifying nothing other than a good time.

3 stars out of four

Review: "Legend of the Guardians: The Owls of Ga'Hoole"

I don't know what the thing is with long movie titles these days. I think it started with the first "Pirates of the Caribbean," which wasn't content to just be inspired by a theme park ride, it had to have "The Curse of the Black Pearl," too. Or maybe it was the "Harry Potter" flicks with their endless extensions.

Now we have a children's fantasy book the with the pleasant-enough title of "Guardians of Ga'Hoole" that has somehow become a movie with the tongue-tripping moniker, "Legend of the Guardians: The Owls of Ga'Hoole." This at least cues us in that it's about owls, and was made by the same animation studio behind the "Happy Feet" flicks.

Perhaps befitting the mythology surround owls, the film's denizens are much prouder than dancing penguins. The Guardians wear helmets and wield little swords or metal extensions on their claws into battle.

The movie, based on a series of 15 (!) books by Kathryn Lasky, is quite derivative, transplanting the familiar tropes of the fantasy genre onto owls. There's the young dreamer plucked out of obscurity for a vast adventure in faraway lands, with supernatural forces at work, a gathering cloud of evil, and the forces of light holding it at bay.

At one point, an older owl urges his young protégé to "Use your gizzard!", and we can practically hear the echo of Ben Kenobi instructing Luke about the Force.

I should point out this film was directed by Zack Snyder, whose previous movies were R-rated, ultra-violent flicks: "Dawn of the Dead," "300" and "Watchmen." Jumping into PG-rated animated fare for kiddies seems an unlikely career move for him.

Still, I liked the movie well enough to endorse it for smaller children. The animation is terrific, with the characters managing to have distinctive anthropomorphic personalities while remaining quite owl-like in their appearance and mannerisms.

And for once, the 3D effects don't look like they were slapped on as an afterthought.
Soren (voice by Jim Sturgess) is a young owlet just learning to fly along with his brother Kludd (Ryan Kwanten). One day they're bird-napped by some warriors and recruited into the Ice Claws, the band of owls led by Metal Beak (Joel Edgerton), who wears a sinister mask over his ravaged face. He and his mate Nyra (Helen Mirren) are committed to the racial supremacy of the larger, stronger owl breeds.

Soren grew up listening to the stories of his father (Hugo Weaving) about the Guardians, the fabled protectors of the owl kingdoms, and especially the great warrior Lyze of Kiel. He thought it was just lore, but since their ancient enemies are real, perhaps the Guardians are, too.

He escapes with Gylfie (Emily Barclay), a small elf owl, but not Kludd, who chooses to remain among The Pure Ones, as Nyra dubs her promising young recruits. They pick up companions along the way, including an immense owl who likes to sing and another named Digger who, well, digs.

Eventually they make their way to the secret island of Ga'Hoole where the Guardians reside, setting up the big showdown with Metal Beak and his flock. Ezylryb, a scarred little screech owl (Geoffrey Rush) who is the local historian, instructs Soren how to fly in extreme circumstances, and offers some sobering lessons about mythologizing war.

The film contains all sorts of strange elements that don't quite mesh. There's a subplot about the Pure Ones gatherings flecks of magical metal from "pellets" -- the fur and bones of digested rodents spit up by the owls. For some reason Soren's family has a snake as a nursemaid. And Metal Beak keeps his slaves in line through "moon-blinking," hypnotizing them by making them sleep at night, or something.

Despite its inflated title, "Legend of the Guardians: The Owls of Ga'Hoole" feels like an epic tale crammed down to kiddie-movie size.

2.5 stars out of four

Video review: "The Last Station"

In the last years of his life, the great Russian novelist Leo Tolstoy was the subject of his own religion-slash-cult. He died not at his comfortable rustic home but a remote railway station.

These two historical facts are the jumping-off point for "The Last Station," a fictionalized account of Tolstoy's last months.

It's quite doubtful that Vladimir Chertkov (Paul Giamatti), the leader of the Tolstoyans, actually sent Valentin, a young disciple (James McAvoy), to spy on the writer's family. Or that Tolstoy's wife, Sofya, was quite the fuming cauldron of anger and self-pity that Helen Mirren portrays her to be.

But as unlikely as writer/director Michael Hoffman's version of events is, it does make for a wonderful setting for this talented cast to rage and weep and otherwise emote expansively.

Tolstoy himself is something of a minor player in his own story. He's played with sly wit and veiled egotism by Christopher Plummer. Late in life, Tolstoy came to reject the comforts his riches had earned his family, and embraced a pastoral philosophy based on love and communal property.

Sofya, though, sees his desire to name the Tolstoyan movement as the main beneficiary in his will as an abandonment of their nearly 50 years of marriage.

Meanwhile, Valentin finds romance with Masha (an enchanting Kerry Condon), a Tolstoyan who especially believes in the movement's attitude regarding free love. He's equally charmed by the attention Tolstoy lavishes upon him, as well as finding Sofya a sympathetic figure.

Giamatti also has an interesting role, positioning Chertkov as a man who built a movement based on love, but doesn't seem to have much of it to express.

Extra features are a pleasing array of deleted scenes, outtakes and a featurette tribute to Christopher Plummer's career. The great actor also teams up with Mirren and Hoffman for a feature-length commentary track.

It's wonderful to see actors participate in these commentaries, which so often are boring recitations by the director working solo.

Extras are identical for Blu-ray and DVD versions.

Movie: 3 stars out of four
Extras: 3 stars out of four

Review: "The Last Station"

"The Last Station" is one of those historical dramas that we instinctively want to like because it shows an important figure in a humanistic, fervorous light. Whether or not the events of the film accurately match their actual lives seems less important.

We'd like to think that the last months of the life of the great novelist Leo Tolstoy were filled with such passion, intrigue and romance. I tend to doubt it, but I like imagining so.

Helen Mirren is the star of this passion play as Tolstoy's wife Sofya. After nearly 50 years of marriage, she is resentful of the intrusions her husband's fame brings upon her and her children. Chief among these is Vladimir Chertkov (Paul Giamatti), the leader of a movement based upon Tolstoy's writings.

The exact philosophy of the Tolstoyans is a little murky. They are pacifists who eschew personal property, and Chertkov seems to want to take things further until all human vices -- including sex -- are forbidden. Chertkov says that love is the central tenet of this faith, but he doesn't hold much of it in his heart.

Chertkov wants Tolstoy to sign away the copyright to "War and Peace," "Anna Karenina" and his other works to the Tolstoyans to support the movement.

Sofya, though, views this as not only impractical -- what will her family live on? -- but as a form of marital abandonment. At one point she muses on how she helped her husband while writing "War and Peace," with not only copying duties but suggestions for the story, and it's clear she views her husband's accomplishments as the result of their partnership.

Chertkov recruits a young Tolstoyan, Valentin (James McAvoy), to work as Tolstoy's secretary and act as his spy. The lad is bowled over by the attention the famous author lavishes upon him, but he also finds himself drawn to Sofya, and develops sympathy for her plight.

A virgin, Valentin also finds romance with Masha, a free-love advocate living at the nearby Tolstoyan commune. Played by Kerry Condon, Masha throws an appraising eye at the nervous young man, framed by some gorgeous laugh crinkles that render him helpless.

Tolstoy himself is something of a tertiary character in his own story. Played by Christopher Plummer, the author is mischievous and mysterious. He tries to be modestly dismissive of the movement that has sprung up around him -- "I'm not a very good Tolstoyan myself," he chuckles to Valentin. But Sofya isn't far off the mark when she accuses him of being seduced by sycophants and flatterers.

Written and directed by Michael Hoffman from the novel by Jay Parini, "The Last Station" is an enjoyable if unlikely fictional version of Tolstoy's last days. It's an opportunity for actors to fling a lot of big emotions around, raging and cooing and reveling. (A stage version seems an obvious next step.)

I most liked the scenes between Plummer and Mirren. They paint a believable portrait of what happens to love over time. Tolstoy resents a wife who doesn't share his relatively newfound convictions -- he rages that "Our privilege revolts me!" -- while she struggles to claim any identity outside the shadow of the great writer.

Love may make the world go round, but sometimes even the deepest romance suffers dry rot.

3 stars

DVD review: "State of Play"

An above-average political thriller, "State of Play" also offers one of the most authentic portrayals of newspaper journalists since "All the President's Men."

With his frumpy clothes fitting poorly over a pudgy body, paper-strewn cubicle, studied nonchalance and scruffy beard decorated with Cheetos crumbs, Russell Crowe appears every inch the grizzled, veteran reporter. His Cal McAffrey is an old-school digger for the fictional Washington Globe.

His best friend also happens to be Stephen Collins (Ben Affleck), a young, Kennedy-esque Congressman who gets caught up in a sex-and-murder imbroglio that Cal has been assigned to investigate.

Tagging along is an idealistic young blogger (Rachel McAdams) who Cal initially treats dismissively. In time, he sees that the kid's got chops, and they become partners in the biggest story in Washington, D.C.

Helen Mirren also has a nice turn as the ball-busting editor trying to get a juicy story where her star reporter has a personal connection that could lead to a big scoop, but also backfire if he tries to protect his friend rather than the facts. She also has to deal with impersonal new corporate owners who value profit over news.

Director Kevin Macdonald ("The Last King of Scotland") and his trio of screenwriters stir the pot expertly at first, allowing the players and pieces of the puzzle to assemble themselves. The second half turns too much to conventional thriller tropes, including the unlikely scenario of both Cal and his young partner having shots taken at them in separate incidents.

DVD extras are rather miserly: Two deleted scenes and a making-of featurette that consists of more hype than insight. The only interesting thing I found in the latter was cinematographer Rodrigo Prieto's decision to shoot Crowe's scenes on film with an anthropomorphic lens to give them a gritty, shallow look while using digital video with a deep focus for Affleck's scenes to make Washington's corridors of power seem sleek and expansive.

Movie: 3 stars
Extras: 2 stars