Let’s just get it out of the way: Transformers is the worst piece of crap movie I’ve seen in a very long time. There are so many problems that I don’t know where to begin.

Okay, let’s start with this. You could lop off the first hour of the movie and you’d lose next to nothing. There was nearly an hour of no visible Transformers (which is what I was there to see), setting up useless characters (I’ll get back to that in a moment) and situations that weren’t necessary. Start with the scene with Sam and Hot Chick #1 meeting the Autobots (below), mention that Sam has a car, and insert a truncated version of the attack in Qatar. You now have a movie that is roughly the standard length for a summer popcorn flick and has lost absolutely nothing of substance.

Here’s a list of other problems:

• Hot Chick #2 (the Australian one) served no purpose in the movie. Eliminate her, and replace her with African American #3 (the fat one). Or vice versa, I don’t care. There’s no background offered for their friendship, and no resolution to the subplot of them getting in trouble for stealing the microchip, so there’s no negative consequence.
• Every black character, including Jazz, is a stereotype.
• There are two whole female characters of substance in the movie and they’re both Hot Chicks Who Are Really Smart And Tough.
• This is a bit of personal preference, but all of the robot forms are overly complicated. The Decepticons all have the same murky paint job. I’m not asking for a lot, just the ability to tell one from another.
• Michael Bay brought the movie to a screeching halt every ten minutes for a slow motion sunset military hero shot straight out of a Be All You Can Be commercial. We get it, you have a hard on for guns and uniforms. Now let’s keep your bloated two hour fifteen minute movie moving.
• This is beyond wrong:

• Somehow, the writers thought it was a good idea to have a ten minute “hee hee the robots are hiding in the yard” scene, completely obliterating any tension that had been created in the film so far. This was actually a problem more than once, as the script moved back and forth between angsty drama to slapstick unfunny comedy.
• Case in point, in the middle of a gun battle in the Middle East, Brave Soldier #1 needs to call the Pentagon, but the Indian Stereotype operator insists on getting a credit card number from Brave Soldier #2. IN THE MIDDLE OF A DRAMATIC SCENE.
• Stereotype Father and Stereotype Mother think it’s totally awesome that Sam snuck Hot Chick #1 into his bedroom.
• I wish they’d just taken a break for commercials instead of having (skinny) people posing in front of Burger King^©, drive GM^© vehicles, and (bet you missed this one) use Pepto Bismol^© for their stomach discomfort. (I know it’s based on a kid’s toy, but still. A little subtlety goes a long way.)
• Bumblebee’s sudden ability to speak is never explained.
• There are quite a few characters who just disappeared. Brave Soldier #4 (the Hispanic one) was hurt (I think) but never heard from again. Hot Chick #2, Hot Chick #2′s Nerd Friends, African American #3, Ineffective Government Guy, and Lead’s Best Friend just disappear never to be seen again. Lead’s Best Friend was left on the side of the road, for crying out loud.
• Finally, another visual aid. Someone explain to me why you would cast Josh Duhamel and Tyrese Gibson (below) in a movie and never show them with their shirts off. NOT ONE TIME. That’s like, 2/3 of their appeal!

Okay fine, I might be a little hypocritical on that last one. I did have my hopes up, though.

I do have one or two good things to say about Transformers. While Brave Soldier #4 is a bit annoying (I said good, didn’t I?), they did something on the DVD that most people probably won’t find. I wondered how they dealt with his lapses into Spanish on the Spanish dubbed track, so I switched over and found that they flipped it so he was speaking English. They also switched Sam’s grade from a B- and A- to a seven and “ten with reservations”. It’s pretty awesome that they took the time to make the changes.

The second good thing I have to say about this movie is that I finally broke down and bought a RiffTrax. RiffTrax are basically Mystery Science Theater 3000 reformatted as audio-only commentaries on mp3. You download a RiffTrax onto your [cref 289 iPod] and sync it up with the movie. The syncing is incredibly easy to do, and they even have a media player that syncs automatically if you want to watch on your computer, though I couldn’t get that to work. I’m assuming it was the DVD’s fault.

But never mind that, I got to hear Mike Nelson, Bill Corbett, and Kevin Murphy making fun of a movie again. And RiffTrax are DRM free, so I get to feel superior. Not bad for four bucks. Spot on commentary to boot.

So yeah, two positive things about Transformers and neither has anything to do with the actual movie. Kudos, Michael Bay.

Today we look back to 1940′s The Philadelphia Story. Starring Cary Grant, Katharine Hepburn, and Jimmy Stewart, this film is a slam dunk. It has a little bit of everything and blends it all into a rare gem of a film.

The story revolves around heiress Tracy Lord (Hepburn) and her wedding to a self-made millionaire who some think is beneath her station. Ex-husband C.K. Dexter Haven (Grant, with one of the best character names ever) and writer/reporter Macaulay Connor (Jimmy Stewart, in an Oscar winning performance) crash the event looking for a story for Connor’s newspaper. Hilarity ensues, as do romance, drama, and just a soupçon of angst.

Katharine Hepburn is wonderful as a confident, self-assured woman who wants it all. Having failed at marriage the first time (with a surprisingly off-handed scene of spousal abuse played for laughs), she’s trying again and is determined to succeed, if only her husband-to-be came from her world. In scenes of intimacy, we find that Tracy isn’t as sure of herself as she wants people to think. The turn in Hepburn’s character is quietly played out, leaving her a bit mystified at its complexity.

Cary Grant is laid back in his portrayal of the jealous ex-husband. Well liked by Tracy’s family, he understands better than she does why their marriage didn’t work (aside of the abuse, of course), and it wouldn’t hurt his feelings if they gave it another go. Quiet and unassuming, Dexter is on hand when Tracy has to face the hard questions about her wedding, her fiancé, and herself. He’s ready to woo her again, but he needs her to be ready to be wooed.

And then there’s Jimmy. As I’ve said before, my experience with Jimmy Stewart as a younger actor is fairly recent, and he was amazing in The Philadelphia Story. Macaulay is kind of a loudmouth at first, later becoming intoxicated with love for Tracy, while the woman who loves him stands aside.

The centerpiece of his performance, and probably the reason he won the Oscar, is his drunk scene with Cary Grant (above). I watched it and immediately rewound it to watch the master at work. (I’m not sure if the “I have the hiccups” line was in the script, but my guess would be that it was improvised. I kind of hope not, because that delivery was note perfect.)

The Philadelphia Story was adapted for the screen from Philip Barry’s play of the same name, and its theater roots are pretty obvious. Much of the film is in the theater style of “talk for 20 minutes, then change rooms and do it again,” glaringly so in the final scene, but the film doesn’t necessarily suffer from it.

This is a film that I’ll be able to go back to again and again. This is one for the vaults.

This gem of an independent film has me completely under its spell. From Iranian director Majid Majidi, Children of Heaven (Bacheha-Ye aseman) is about a boy’s dilemma when he loses his sister’s only pair of shoes. It’s a simple story, but Ali’s problem is played with such delicacy and honesty that we are pulled into his panic and indecision. (Yes, it’s subtitled in English with audio in Farsi. Get over it.)

Amir Farrokh Hashemian plays Ali, the aforementioned poor child who doesn’t know what to do when his sister Zahra’s shoes are lost on the way back from being repaired. The children decide that Zahra will wear Ali’s shoes to school in the morning and run home to hand them off to Ali so he can wear them to school in the afternoon.

Of course, the plan doesn’t work as well as they’d hoped. The shoes are too big for Zahra (a wonderful little actress named Bahare Seddiqi). They’re clumsy and ugly and she’s ashamed to wear them. Ali is always late to school and is nearly expelled. Eventually Ali hears about a race with a third prize of a new pair of shoes. He decides that he’ll win third place and give the shoes to Zahra.

There’s some wonderful interplay between the children along the way as they try to make decisions that they think would be best. Ali feels compassion for his sister, and to her credit, she tries not to be too angry at him. Zahra also finds out where the shoes went to and is moved to compassion herself.

The race that Ali runs was a wonderful piece of cinema. As Ali runs as fast as he can, we flash between him and his sister running alongside him in his mind. The two are one in this trial, and we hear the sound of her feet with his. The visuals are pulled into slow motion while the sound of Ali and the other boys breathing hard is played at normal speed, adding a tension even though we think we know the outcome. Near the end of the race, the music swells (a rare event in Children of Heaven) and Ali’s feet fall in time with the music.

I won’t give away the ending, but one piece of information is necessary for Westerners to understand the symbolism of the final shot. The intertubes tell me that in Iranian culture, gold fish are symbols of renewal and rebirth. (Someone correct me if that’s wrong. Thanks.) That’s all I’ll say about that.

This is a film that everyone should see at least once. Like Amélie, it is an expression of unabashed joy. In this case, the joy comes through the loving sibling relationship between Ali and Zahra. Neither of these brilliant child actors has made a film appearance since Children of Heaven, but it would be lovely to see them both acting as adults.

I’ve moved Majid Majidi’s other films higher in my Netflix queue. I hope you will as well.

Not being a big Tim Allen fan, I skipped over Galaxy Quest when it hit theaters in 1999. I didn’t give it a second thought until someone whose taste I generally trust started raving about the film a few weeks ago. With great trepidation I put it on my Netflix queue (currently coming in at 248 DVDs) and bumped it to the top.

Our story: The fictional TV series Galaxy Quest (a Star Trek stand in) has been off the air for 18 years, and the stars (below) long for an end to their degrading public appearances at conventions and store openings. At the same time, a group of aliens has intercepted reruns of the show and think it’s real. The Thermians have reordered their society using Galaxy Quest as a blueprint. (They also think Gilligan’s Island was real.) When another alien species threatens to exterminate them, they turn to the crew of the NSEA Protector for help.

Galaxy Quest surprised me with its seamless blend of sci-fi show clichés, slapstick humor, and even genuine dramatic tension from time to time. Tim Allen played none other than Tim Allen (as usual), but the attitude worked for this character. I loved Sigourney Weaver’s token woman whose job was to show cleavage and repeat what the computer said.

About the only thing missing from the TV show within the movie was a cute little robot. I suppose the ship’s pilot, 10-year-old Tommy Webber will have to do. (Aside: That’s a young Corbin Bleu of High School Musical fame playing young Tommy.)

The aliens were well done. Near clones at first glance, each of the Thermians (above) had a quirk or two to make them individuals. Enrico Colantoni was somehow able to give the Thermian leader a tragic quality even when he was doing the funny voice. (Another aside: That’s a young(er) Rainn Wilson as one of the Thermians. He disappears halfway through the film, which I probably wouldn’t have noticed before The Office (USA) hit the air.)

Special and visual effects were top notch too. Sarris, the main baddie (down there in the green) looks like he was plucked right out of Star Trek, and in a good way. There’s also a scene on a planet with hundreds of CGI alien children. Considering that Galaxy Quest was made in 1999, they were astonishingly lifelike. Kudos to the tech crew.

Galaxy Quest did a good job of skewering Star Trek and Star Trek fandom, but there were way too women at the convention. Otherwise, well done. I had to chuckle at the parts of the ship that made no sense whatsoever. The wall of flame at the end of the hall of smashing things that served no purpose was inspired.

All in all, a surprisingly good film. It had a depth that I didn’t expect. Now somebody do me a favor and watch out for other Tim Allen movies that aren’t terrible. I won’t be holding my breath, but as you can see, I’ve been wrong before.

I sat down to watch Anchors Aweigh last Saturday, forgetting that I have to be in just the right frame of mind to watch a musical. There’s a really specific kind of suspension of disbelief that goes along with a musical and if I have trouble with that, the whole experience falls apart.

Anchors Aweigh is what I’d call a Kitchen Sink movie. It’s 2:20 long, and it has a little of everything in it. You want sexual innuendo? You got it. Cute little kids? Sure. Romantic love story? In spades. Guy dancing with a cartoon mouse in a castle where the cartoon animals aren’t allowed to have fun? That’s a bit specific, but what the heck.

It took me a bit to get into it but once I did, it was an enjoyable film. Short version of the plot: Two sailors deal with complications while trying to find romance (wink wink) on shore leave in sunny Hollywood.

Longer version: Our two sailors are Joe Brady (Gene Kelly) and Clarence Doolittle (Frank Sinatra), pictured above. After what must be recognized as just about the gayest scene in cinema ever, in which Kelly lounges on a table while sailors in their undershirts lean in and Sinatra’s face rests alarmingly close to Kelly’s bits and pieces, Doolittle asks Alpha-Male Joe to teach him how to be a ‘wolf’ with the ladies. (Sure, Clarence. The ladies. Now quit resting your head on his shoulder.) Hilarity ensues.

Kelly plays the role he seems to love; that of the jackass playboy whose hard exterior is melted by a woman’s love. He’s very good at the jackass part, I’ll give him that. It was a bit much in this film, though, what with him telling a girl’s perspective suitor that she’s a whore (in the song If You Knew Suzie) so the guy will leave and then being angry when she doesn’t swoon in gratitude.

Sinatra’s voice is impeccable in Anchors Aweigh. He performs several songs, including the mournful I Fall In Love Too Easily. Sinatra also attempts choreography with Gene Kelly, for which he should be commended, but nobody can keep up with Gene Kelly.

Kathryn Grayson (above) costars as Susan Abbott, the virginal romantic foil for the boys. She has a lovely voice, and gets to show it off several times. Assuming she was the one doing the singing voice, Grayson’s range is phenomenal, nearly Julie Andrews-esque, and showcased tremendously in her final number From The Heart Of A Lonely Poet.

I’m not totally sure, but I think Susan is supposed to be of Mexican heritage. Everything except her name and the color of her skin leads me to that conclusion, right down to the fantasy Zorro scene she has with Gene Kelly. It wouldn’t be the first time a studio tried to straddle the fence between inclusiveness and audience expectations, so I think I’m right.

José Iturbi heads up several musical numbers, and though I’m not sure why I’m supposed to know who he is, he’s very talented. The piano orchestra is a rare treat, and it uses the architecture of the Hollywood Bowl very well. The ending of Anchors Aweigh is telegraphed way in advance, to the point where I was almost surprised that there wasn’t a twist of some sort.

If this blog could have sound effects, this right here would be the place to have the record scratch. Look at that angelic boy up there. Isn’t he adorable? Now somebody tell me how in the name of Jumping Jehoshaphat that little boy grew up to be Dean Stockwell?!? That’s just … I wouldn’t have believed it.

Anyway, Stockwell is good in the role of Susan’s orphaned nephew Donald. Cute as a button and quick with a punchline, Donald heads up the Awwww department, kind of like Kelly heads up the jerkface department and Grayson heads up the woman department. (I’m not sure what department Sinatra is in, but man he has the world’s biggest ears!)

There’s a lot going on in Anchors Aweigh, and while some of it falls flat for me, other parts make up the difference. The music is varied and captivating, and the film ends with a good old fashioned happy ending for everybody. Who could hate that?

Site note: Click the images for super-wide full-size 2.35:1 versions!

I’ve been hearing good things about 3:10 To Yuma since it came out last year, so when Dan from Truth on Cinema said last week that he was getting ready to watch a film I’d just reviewed, I decided to return the favor and move Yuma to the top of my Netflix queue.

It was a treat to be able to come to the film with only the most basic of knowledge of the story. I knew it was a Western, and I knew that Russell Crowe and Christian Bale were involved, but otherwise, I surprised myself by being an almost blank slate, having not even seen the original 1957 version (it’s coming soon, I promise).

We start out the film meeting Dan Evans. Played by Christian Bale, Dan is a down on his luck rancher who just can’t catch a break. His kids are embarrassed by him, his wife doesn’t trust him, and absolutely nothing has gone right for him since he lost his foot in the Civil War. He’s an interesting character, in that his decisions are made of a complex mixture of character and desperation. Dan agrees to escort outlaw Ben Wade (more on him in a moment) to a train that will take him to Yuma prison. It’s the right thing to do, but his real reason for doing it is the $200 payoff that will keep his failing ranch out of foreclosure.

On top of that, there’s Dan’s need to be a hero to his boys, a man for his wife. There’s a terrific scene near the beginning of the film when Dan argues with his wife about his joining the posse. Dan says, “If I don’t go, we gotta pack up and leave. Now I’m tired, Alice. I’m tired of watching my boys go hungry. I’m tired of the way that they look at me. I’m tired of the way that you don’t. I’ve been standing on one leg for three damn years waiting for God to do me a favor. And He ain’t listenin’.”

It’s a powerful moment, a defining moment for the character, made more dramatic by the fact that the lines are whispered angrily so no one else will hear his confession. One minor complaint. I found the lack of resolution in Dan’s relationship with his wife to be a bit unfortunate. I’m not sure how I would’ve liked it addressed, but it was a dangling thread that needed to be sewn up.

Logan Lerman plays William Evans, Dan’s oldest son (above), who has a gigantic chip on his shoulder and nothing but contempt for his father. His father’s a fool, a wimp, a pushover, all the things a lot of 14-year-olds think magnified by his father’s real failure. William has his own journey in 3:10 To Yuma, the journey from boy to man. When the film begins William is enamored by the quick-shooting, uncompromising Ben Wade. Ben is everything his father isn’t, and his eager intoxication with Wade’s total opposite approach to life is deftly shown in Lerman’s performance.

William covertly joins the posse, saving his father’s life, in essence “proving” all the bad things William thinks of him. As the size of the posse slowly dwindles, Dan Evans takes more and more of a leadership role, a fact that goes unnoticed by William. Of course, eventually William learns about his father’s character and uncompromising beliefs, but I was surprised at how late in the film it happened.

Then there’s the outlaw. Ben Wade, played by Russell Crowe, leads a gang of robbers who rob the Southern Pacific’s payroll coach. Shown above with maniacal sidekick Charlie Prince (Ben Foster) and sharpshooter Campos (the impressively built Rio Alexander, who I’m hoping will be doing more movies), Wade finds himself caught and waiting for his gang to find and free him. Meantime, he isn’t going down without a fight as he methodically takes out several members of Dan Evans’ posse and plays psychological games with Evans.

As the title of the film would suggest, the big goal is to get Wade on the 3:10 To Yuma without getting killed in the process. The chances of that happening dwindle when the posse (what’s left of it) makes it into town and Prince offers to pay $200 to whoever mows down a member of the posse. With the entire town against him and the rest of the posse pussing out, Dan must figure out how to get Wade on the train without getting himself shot.

I think I’ll leave the rest of the spoilers unspoiled. Director James Mangold has given us various characters to identify with and see the story through. One that I’ve barely mentioned is Charlie Prince, whose ruthless loyalty to Ben Wade is fascinating to watch in an oddly demented way. There are some great twists and turns through the film, and some wonderful character moments. We learn that the good guy and the bad guy share one thing: they’re both trying to prove themselves, both trying to make sense of their lives.

In other words, they’re both human.

A note before we start: More than with recently reviewed films, I feel I must point out that all of the pictures within this and most posts since mid-March link to larger images showing the entire screenshot. Usually (but not always) I just shrink the 1.85:1 image to a smaller version, but a different aspect ratio was used in older films. I’ve kept the correct 4:3 ratio for the larger images, but for design reasons have trimmed the smaller images to my standard 1.85:1 ratio. (Actually, a 1.37:1 ratio would have been more correct for the larger images, but I’m lazy and 4:3 is close and easier to figure. Seriously, click the pictures. The zoom effect is wicked awesome.)

---

I’ve been reviewing fairly recent movies lately, so I decided last week that it was time to finally watch the Orson Welles classic Citizen Kane. That this directly follows [cref 226] is a bit jarring, but what the heck. Let’s give it a whirl.

Citizen Kane is often referenced as indisputably the best film ever made. While I think that may be a bit of an overstatement, it’s damn good. Technically speaking, it’s a marvel. There’s an air of daring innovation and creativity that we don’t see nearly enough today. I’m not going to be able to touch on all of the greatness in this space, nor am I able. Instead, I’ll look at the bits that interested me and leave the rest for the experts.

The circular structure of the story is captivating to me. Within the first five minutes of the film, we know who Charles Foster Kane is, how he came into money, how he lived, who he married, why he divorced, and how he died. It gets the bare facts out of the way so we can focus the next couple of hours on finding out the sordid details of Kane’s life and what made him tick.

Held together ostensibly by the mystery of Kane’s last word, the story follows a generic reporter, often obscured by shadow, as he visits the important people from Kane’s life and learns of their time with Kane through a series of non-sequential flashbacks. Kane’s dirt-poor mother (above, Agnes Moorehead in her first film role) came suddenly into money and signed her son away to be cared for by the bank. This seems harsh and unthinkable, but Welles uses a simple closeup and, later, one line inform us that Mrs. Kane’s reasons were pure.

Much of the mood of Citizen Kane is built with light and shadow. Above, the reporter gains rare access to Kane’s deceased guardian’s memoirs. Kept under close guard, he is escorted into a darkened room with a shaft of light filtering in through a high window. There are many other examples of mood setting like this, but here it gives a feeling of cold, almost frightening authority as we learn of Kane’s earliest days.

Welles also used some optical illusion to subtly augment the message that audience was being told. For example, right after we watch Mrs. Kane sign papers giving him away, we flash to a parallel scene. Very late in life Kane is forced to give up control of his business. In the middle of that scene Kane walks slowly into the back of what appears to be a room with average height features.

(Click here for Kane in the front of the room. Click here for Kane in the back of the room.)

As his advisors talk about his failure at what had been his focus in life, Kane becomes more and more diminished until he appears to be two feet high. No attention is drawn to the effect. Instead, Welles left it for the viewer to find, either consciously or not. Especially in those days before CGI and extreme visual effects, this illusion is pulled off remarkably.

But that isn’t the only visual effect that Welles used to tell the story of Citizen Kane. One of the more amazing effects cinematographer Gregg Toland’s use of what later became known as Deep Focus. Several times throughout the film, everything on the screen is in focus, from the actor in the very front to the one way in the back. The above picture of Kane in his newsroom is one example of this, but even better is the first picture in this post. The focus is crystal clear on young Mr. Kane in the front, and just as clear on the lettering on the sign in the back (you’ll have to click the picture for that).

It’s an amazing technique, one that forces the audience to decide what to look at in the shot. Welles plays to this requirement of a more involved audience by staging shots so that little cutting is needed. Several scenes are done with remarkable camera work and minimal cutting between shots. Robert Wise, who of course went on to direct many films including The Sound of Music, did a superb job of extending the creativity to the editing of the film.

I’ve gotten to nearly the end of the post and I’ve barely mentioned the story. As I said at the top, the film is really a character study. Kane’s last word is the device used to pull the audience through the film, but by the time we learn Rosebud’s identity, it’s almost irrelevant. The real story has been in beginning to understand the rise and downfall of a complex character.

The wonderful acting in Citizen Kane is surprisingly done by a cast of mostly unknowns. Other than Orson Welles and Agnes Moorehead, none of the principal cast went on to do much else of note. Dorothy Comingore, who played Kane’s second wife, was wonderful in the film (Her performance in the scene pictured above brought to mind Jean Hagan’s Lina Lamont in Anchors Aweigh.) but apparently was blacklisted in the 1950s and never recovered.

While it’s not my favorite film, Citizen Kane has pushed its way near the top of my list of impeccable films.

I love SpongeBob. I really, really do. Like, a lot. So much so that I’ve added his name to my spell check dictionary. So much so that I have a Patrick coffee mug that I bought for double retail at King’s Island last year, and I don’t even drink coffee.

So it was with great hesitation that I put The SpongeBob SquarePants Movie in my DVD player. The transition from 15-minute TV cartoon to 90-minute cartoon movie with multiple story arcs and everything seemed insurmountable. Ninety minutes later, I was so glad that Stephen Hillenburg and the Nickelodeon people pulled it off.

The first thing they did right was give us situations that were somewhat familiar but expanded enough as to be new. For example, Mr Krabs’s rejection of SpongeBob led not just to the standard mopeyness, but to a big drinking bin– I mean ice cream eating binge with Patrick, complete with a drunken confrontation (above, and by far my favorite scene in the film) the next morning.

At the same time, Plankton (below), along with his computer wife (Karen), begins Plan Z to get the secret Krabby Patty formula and take over the world. It’s a diabolical and complicated scheme that is mind-boggling in its fiendishness, beginning with framing Mr. Krabs for the theft of King Neptune’s crown. SpongeBob’s previously mentioned confrontation with Mr. Krabs leads to a quest for King Neptune’s crown, and he and Patrick hit the road to Shell City.

All the citizens from Bikini Bottom are here, some with teeny tiny roles. I wish Sandy Cheeks and Mrs. Puff had had more than the one line, but it was smart to trim the cast a bit to keep the story focused. (Gary is my favorite, so I was glad he was there even a little bit.) There were several nice guest voices and cameos in the film. Jeffrey Tambor and Scarlett Johansson guest as King Neptune and his daughter Mindy, plus Alec Baldwin as Dennis, Plankton’s hitman.

Somehow I hadn’t heard that David Hasselhoff was in The SpongeBob SquarePants Movie, so it was a total surprise when he came running down the beach. It’s a great self-effacing performance, though I will say that we got a bit closer to his hairy legs than I ever intended to get. Kudos to Hasselhoff for being willing to poke fun at his image.

I was struck by how well put together The SpongeBob SquarePants Movie is, with the storylines crossing over each other several times. Each part addresses SpongeBob’s struggle to be recognized as a man and not a kid, and if you know anything about SpongeBob, you know that that’s an uphill battle.

As I said at the top of the page, it would have been easy to get this wrong. How wonderful that they put some thought into it and turned out a good buddy/road trip movie that actually moves the characters along a little and doesn’t return everybody to square one at the end. It’s true to the source material but breaks them out of their molds a little. The SpongeBob SquarePants Movie is a great flick, one that I’ll be watching again and again.

Lots of buzz in the last year for this film. Juno is the story of a 16-year-old girl (Juno) and the effect her pregnancy has on her life. We get to know Juno’s family, friends, and the couple who will adopt her baby.

With an armful of glowing reviews and award nominations, Juno went into my DVD player with the weight of my high expectations. The good news is that some of them were met. The bad news is that some weren’t. Let’s address the bad news first.

First up is the faux-stop-animation title sequence. I LOVED the feel of the them. They were a great way to set a tone for Juno, but much as I did when I watched [cref 185], I felt that they could have been used to greater effect. We got the hand-drawn heading of the sections, but I expected that Juno or Paulie would be an artist, making the drawings more relevant.

A bigger problem was 20 minutes of “Hey, look how quirky and in your face Juno is! She’s quirky, isn’t she? ISN’T SHE!?!” that started the film. Honestly, it was so over-the-top with the hamburger phone and the hoodie and the shiznit-remarking and the pipe and the moving the recliner and . . . I wanted to punch somebody. They just tried way too hard, even down to her name. Fortunately, after the first twenty minutes they eased up a little bit and the film got exponentially better.

Once we get past the set up of super-quirky Juno, the film really takes off. Ellen Page (above, with baby’ daddy Michael Cera) is quite talented, and ably heads the cast. Her transition from pre-pregnancy childhood to maturity is flawed, making it more real than I’ve grown to expect from most films. Writer Diablo Cody presents Juno with choices and decisions that aren’t neat and tidy, then explores some of the effects of those decisions.

One avenue that I wish had been explored more fully was Paulie Bleeker’s reaction to the news of Juno’s pregnancy. He just kind of goes along with whatever decisions Juno makes and doesn’t really give it much more thought. As always, I wish Cera had more to do in Juno.

On the other hand, by leaving Paulie’s point of view unaddressed, the film stays firmly focused on the female character, a phenomenon that’s sadly under-represented in cinema.

I also liked Jennifer Garner’s and Jason Bateman’s performances (above) in Juno as Vanessa and Mark Loring, the couple who wanted to adopt Juno’s baby. Looking back at it, it’s pretty obvious from the beginning that their situation was something less than the perfection that they tried to project with their McMansion (Thank you to director Jason Reitman for including that. I hate those stupid houses, devoid of any life or character.).

It was sad to watch Mark realize that he was living the wrong life, and to watch Vanessa try to convince him to hold it together. Juno’s final solution surprised me, and I’m not sure if I agree with it in general, but in her case, it was the right decision. One stellar piece of direction showed up in that section, specifically when Juno pulled off the highway.

So overall, Juno is a good film. Not Oscar-worthy, but good. I’m not sure why it got the Oscar nominations, other than possibly for the scene I just mentioned. Whatever the reason, I’m glad a film like this got some extra attention, if for no other reason than to get me to see it.

Fair warning: This will be a rough review. All I ask is that you at least read the last sentence before you start sending me hate mail.

The Neverending Story SUCKS. It’s the suckiest suck that ever sucked. There are just so many problems and unanswered questions that I don’t know where to begin. Let’s start off with Bastion’s dad, played by TV’s Gerald McRaney. Am I supposed to want to punch him? The boy’s mother JUST DIED and he’s being a total dick to him! Give the kid a break, Major Dad!

That creepy guy in the bookstore– what was up with him? I mean, I get that he wanted Bastion to take the book, but who was he? Did he have some other purpose? If so, what was it? And if not, if he was just hanging out until some downtrodden kid who was being chased by bullies who also likes to read happened to stop in without parental supervision . . . man, I don’t think I could handle that.

Why does the school have a big attic that’s so easy to break into? Bastion knew right where to look for the key to the attic, so is this his regular thing? Why would the attic of a school, which I have enough of a problem with anyway, have a big mattress in it? Why did nobody notice that Bastion never showed up to class?

Okay, on to The Neverending Story within The Neverending Story. We start out meeting a small group of characters who are introduced and treated like they will be major characters, then . . . nothing. The bat guy and the snail rider just disappear for the rest of the movie after being given fifteen minutes of introduction! We’re quickly escorted to the Department of Moving Things Along, where we find out about the Empress being sick or whatever and how the world going to die unless Atreyu goes on this big quest and blah blah blah.

We meet Atreyu (above, on his dog-dragon thing) who manages to get his horse killed on the way to the wise old sneezing turtle who serves no purpose whatsoever. Atreyu meets the dog-dragon thing and some green-screened in miniature people who bicker about magic. They, of course, disappear after Atreyu heads for the statues that shoot lasers out of their eyes (below, sponsored by Jugs magazine. You’re welcome, boys!), which you’d think would be an exciting scene, but not in The Neverending Story! No sir!

It’s clear that the producers were going for a Lord of the Rings type film with the big multi-stage quest and lessons to help Bastion with his feelings and such, but it just failed on every single level. For one thing, it’s lacking in any resolution. The big ending is that Bastion gives the oddly-lipped Empress a new name (which reminds me, what is the Empress’s new name? The Internet tells me that it’s “Moonchild” but I can’t for the life of me figure out why Bastion would name her that.), saving the world and becoming its god, in the process erasing everything that I just suffered through. Guh?!?

And then Bastion uses his newfound authority to hunt down and exact revenge on the bullies who were chasing him when he hid in creepy guy’s bookstore. I–

. . .

Y’know, I’d've totally dug this movie when I was ten.