A few years ago, a new talent was unleashed upon the unsuspecting public in the form of Muay Thai martial arts sensation Tony Jaa. Jaa was the star of Thai film Ong-Bak, which after two years in release and a couple of celebrity endorsements, namely Quentin Tarantino and RZA, the film made its way onto U.S. shores and a new hero for all fans of martial arts films, replacing Bruce Lee, Jackie Chan and Jet Li, was born. Jaa carried a similar athletic reputation with him and the requisite “he does his own stunts” mantra, making him an instant person-of-interest in future action films. His Muay Thai style displayed in the film contained a ton of brutal elbows and thumping knees landed upon his opponents, eliciting a resounding “wow” factor from audiences. Though the film’s plot had much to be desired, the feats contained within made it a bit of a cult classic and now years later, Jaa has returned to the well that made him famous outside of Thailand, with Ong-Bak 2: The Beginning.

The first difference from the initial film is an obvious one as the story no longer takes place in a modern day cityscape, but the 15^th century Thai jungle. Ong-Bak 2 is a prequel if ever there was one. The story focuses on Tien, a young boy born into nobility, but after the murder of his parents is stripped of his title and relegated to poverty. When in horseback transit to another village, with a bodyguard, Tien is ambushed by a rival tribe and the bodyguard sacrifices himself in hopes of Tien making a great escape.

The guard’s efforts don’t hold up for long, as Tien is picked up almost immediately by the gang of thieves. Tien’s first instinct, however, is not one of fear, but instead he enacts an insubordination and resistance to authority destined to get him killed. This is indeed the gang’s plan, as they force Tien to walk the plank into a muddy pit inhabited by a ferocious crocodile. Tien displays all the mighty heft and angst toward the crocodile as he does his captors and his rambunctiousness is rewarded and his life spared.

After his display of skill, Tien is taken to a martial arts training ground with tons of young students, like a Muay Thai Hogwarts. With a childhood consisting of learning an unwanted dance, Tien is able to quickly adapt to his new surroundings as his acquired skills transfer fittingly to his new teachings. Over a short period of time Tien earns rank in the training ground and is soon promoted to the number two man in charge. However, the breeding is solely for future thieves and murderers and in order to avenge his parents’ death, he must take down the very man who helped him get back on his feet.

The croc's breath is positively abhorrent.

Ordinarily, I’m the type to think it unfair to compare one film to another, especially when determining quality. I believe each film should be given a chance to stand on its own two and not be beholden to any film which came before it. This ideology has to go somewhat by the wayside when discussing sequels, though. It’s inevitable to compare it to parts of the same franchise as they’re supposed to be a continual telling of one story, just in multiple parts. Ong-Bak 2 pales in comparison to the original in many ways and should hardly be considered part of the same franchise, though Ong-Bak 3 is said to fill in the cap between the two. Therefore in George Lucas-ian logic, the chronology of the franchise will eventually be 2, 3 and then 1, forever dooming any child learning to count based on the Jaa-starring series.

As the film’s star, making his directorial debut (as co-director alongside mentor and writer Panna Rittikrai), Tony Jaa had a lot riding on this film. He seems to have taken his position so seriously he is said to have broken down during the middle of the shoot and retired to the jungle, undergoing a personal Hearts of Darkness in the process. He had good reason to be stressed. It’s impossible to blame the filmmakers on desiring to create an artier or more respectable film than the primary entry, but despite that film’s storyline shortcomings, it at least had the action to fall back on. Ong-Bak 2 possesses an even less engaging story, compared to its predecessor, but sadly has not even a handful of the athletic and artfully violent prowess.

The first 60 of the film’s 90-minute runtime will leave action fans sorely disappointed and disheartened. Though Ong-Bak was mainly an exercise in showcasing Jaa’s talent, it did so greatly. With dialogue sprinkled thinly across the film’s surface, Ong-Bak 2 appears to perhaps solely exist to bank off of the Ong-Bak name. Jaa displays little of what made him famous, aside from an overlong 10-minute period toward the film’s end, but done so in a straightforward and somehow disorienting manner, rendering the effect as lackluster. The film’s final pathos is largely devoid of dramatic heft, regardless of how you’re “supposed” to feel

To say I was disappointed by Ong-Bak 2: The Beginning would be understatement, though not a feeling entirely unanticipated. Jaa’s Ong-Bak fallow-up, The Protector, was a letdown from his first film, but at least was able to deliver on an impactful, visceral level. Ong-Bak 2 will leave you yearning for the new discovery once again and perhaps have you doubting Jaa will ever see another uptick in his career trajectory. We would rightfully have felt robbed if Jaa had chosen to let Ong-Bak stand by itself, but these poorer efforts only dilute the initial classic. Instead of spending your life with Ong-Bak 2, give the original one more spin and remember the promise that once was.

“You can vote? But you are woman?…In Kazakhstan, we say God, man, horse, dog, woman, then rat and then small [crustacean].” Those are Borat’s words when discovering a female head-of-household was allowed to vote, during a door-to-door meet-and-greet alongside congressional candidate, James Broadwater, in a segment for “Da Ali G Show.” Although humorous to think even his country hadn’t caught up with the times, there was an era in which even the United States ignored a woman’s right to vote. It wasn’t until 1920 when the 19^th Amendment went into affect. That was right in the middle of when Amelia Earhart was in pursuit of becoming the first woman to fly solo across the Atlantic Ocean, thus breaking down another wall in the crusade for equal rights.

As far back as she could remember, Amelia Earhart always wanted to fly planes. She’d stare up at them from the ground, surrounded by hayfields as the iron giants flew up above. No fear was struck in her, unlike the classic scene from North By Northwest, but more of a serene loneliness. She liked being by herself and being her own person, not having to conform to somebody else’s sense of time and rules. This independency from others continued to dominate Amelia’s form of thought as she ascended through the piloting ranks.

After logging 500 solo hours in the pilot’s seat, Amelia was given a chance in 1928 to become the first woman to fly across the Atlantic Ocean, just one year after Charles Lindbergh’s historic flight. The catch was that all she needed to do to qualify for such a feat was to be flown by two men, while Amelia could only play the role of backseat flier. Though problems emerge with her male crew, Amelia is determined to make it across the ocean come hell or high water and practically wills the team into the record books. She remains unsatisfied with her “achievement,” however, and vows to be the first female in the pilot’s seat to reenact the feat.

Her “historic” flight was set up by publicist George Putnam, who is determined to create a celebrity persona around Amelia after her trip around the Atlantic, regardless of where she sat inside the plane. She’s featured in corporate print ads and speaks at sold out concert halls. Eventually, George becomes enamored with his female subject and asks for her hand in marriage. Amelia, being the independent woman she is wants to pull a Beyonce, but eventually caves. George continues to orchestrate Amelia’s quest for personal glory through the air, but their relationship faces turbulence while grounded, due to the presence of Gene Vidal (author, Gore’s father), who is the director of the Commerce Department’s Bureau of Air Commerce.

The only time Amelia is truly happy, by herself.

The funny thing about Amelia is it depicts its title character not as someone who is into pushing for women’s rights, but is much more of a selfish loner only out for number one. George and Gene warn of her image in the media as someone who indulges in literal flights of fancy for her personal gain. Newspapers report she shills herself for endorsements like a real-life Krusty the Clown, purely to lavish more attention on her accomplishments. Sure she encourages a young female flier and starts an organization of female pilots called The Ninety-Nines, but those scenes are glossed over with nary a hint of meaning. The film portrays its star exactly like the media contained within it pretends to condemn.

Rather than focusing on her accomplishments or her courage to push the boundaries and confinements of women’s suffrage, the film is far more concerned with Amelia’s romantic exploits. It seems like a huge misfire given the character and heroics she brings to the table, but it could at least be partially forgiven if her romantic transgressions were in the least bit interesting. The script by Ron Bass (Entrapment) and Anna Hamilton Phelan (Girl, Interrupted) wants you to feel for Amelia’s relationship with both George and Gene, but there’s so little spark from the disinterested Amelia, why should we bother to care when she doesn’t? Due to this oversight, director Mira Nair’s film is largely devoid of any drama, aside from the inevitable final scene of Amelia’s life.

From the outset, it would seem a biopic on the life of Amelia Earhart would be an actor’s dream about a strong, determined and successful Midwestern girl. I’m sure those were the traits that attracted the two-time Oscar-winning Hilary Swank. She brings her typical tour-de-force self to the character, complete with hick-like accent and a stubborn wonderment to it all. Sadly, the material handed to her almost assures her of not reaching the heights she achieved in her two previous statue-winning performances. Much the same can be said of both Richard Gere’s George and Ewan McGregor as Gene. They’re both competently solid, but have next to nothing to work with, especially McGregor, whose character is practically superfluous.

What could have been an important film for audiences, cast and crew alike was instead dumbed down to be both dull and boring. If the film was served as a history lesson of sorts, it could have been made tolerable, but instead was more of a filmic 1930s issue of “Us” magazine. The stars deserved better with the effort they put into it, but the material doesn’t justify the hard work.

Christian Alvart’s Pandorum is an attempt to tap into the science-fiction realm of paranoid claustrophobia while still maintaining an accessible veneer of an aggressive sound mix along with the usual modern, new age horror tactics. The result is a preposterous amalgamation of a psychological sci-fi horror-action film which is so flaccid and loopy that you’ll be shocked it isn’t based on a video game. After all, Travis Milloy’s script displays all the necessary characteristics of an adaptation; equal parts uninspired and tediously dim-witted. It’s more “Dead Space” than Alien, without any of the formers ingenuity or instinctive feel for atmosphere and legitimate dread.

In the film’s opening prologue, we are informed through a time-lapse that Earth is becoming overpopulated and under-resourced to the point of extinction. It is the year 2174 when we are given a glimpse at the Elysium, a thoroughly extensive ship capable of carrying thousands of willing human beings – where to and what for? Well, surely our two protagonists will know, right?

Corporal Bower (Ben Foster) awakens from hypersleep aboard the Elysium.

Corporal Bower (Ben Foster) awakens from hypersleep to an apparently abandoned ship, his clothes almost molded to his body, which are discarded the way a snake would shed its skin. After grazing for signs of life and a quick, blade-free shave, Bower is treated to the company of a Lieutenant Payton (Dennis Quaid), who is awoken in similar fashion. The problem is that the two can’t remember anything besides their instinctive training – no memory of the mission, family, time, date, etc.

Conveniently, the one thing that the Corporal can remember is a psychological side effect of emerging from hypersleep in deep space called ‘pandorum’, which causes its victim to experience severe paranoia, anxiety and hallucinations. After discovering that the door to the bridge must be opened, Bower climbs through the vent system and with the voice guidance of Lt. Payton, finds more than he bargained for on the other side, along with a feisty temptress named Nadia (Antje Traue).

Along the way, Pandorum slowly reveals (as the characters regain lost memory) certain aspects of Bower’s pre-Elysium existence and the crisis facing all of mankind. As a result, the film is heavy on back story and light on interpretation. Sometimes I just wanted the film to shut up for a second, but when it isn’t bending over backwards trying to explain itself, it’s parading scene after scene of supposedly pulse-pounding action like a dagger to the sternum.

Dennis Quaid (as Lt. Peyton) just stumbled onto the set of another bad movie.

There is no sense of intended paranoia, anxiety or claustrophobia because the filmmaking is just inconsistent, unfocused and bumpy – shifting from psychological horror to Resident Evil action to descriptive end-of-the-world shenanigans. By the time a disheveled and dishonest cook named Leland (Eddie Rouse) shows up, Pandorum has crossed over into a full-blown mess all the way to its disappointing climax.

Ben Foster (Alpha Dog, 3:10 to Yuma) is an actor who always plays psychotic blood-boilers with short fuses and wide-eyed stares. Here, he’s not even given the confines of his own typecasting. He barely even registers a blip on the radar and not even obvious attempts at humanizing him through flashbacks can help matters. Dennis Quaid is still in an extended, almost Nicolas Cage-like slump of ineptitude. You almost have to go back to Todd Haynes’ Far From Heaven to find his last memorable performance.

But you’ll forgive the two lads for coming up with something so uninspiring given the material, which offers plenty of promise and no execution. Despite its best efforts to shake things up and deliver a bloodcurdling, moody piece of horror interlaced with psychosomatic undercurrents, Pandorum pulls off neither. Instead, it boils down to the equivalent of a second-rate survival-horror action game with one too many cut-scenes.

This film, Jennifer’s Body has a lot of expectations riding on it. Especially for its writer, Diablo Cody, and star Megan Fox. For Cody, this film marks her first script since winning a Best Original Screenplay Oscar for 2007’s Juno. With Jennifer’s Body, she has to prove to everyone that she is not a one-hit wonder. Star Megan Fox is out to prove that she can carry a film, while also proving that her acting abilities extend beyond wearing tight clothes and talking to robots, as she did in the two Transformers films. Does either woman prove themselves worthy of their almost overnight success? For me, the answer would have to be no.

The plot for this high school-meets-horror film surrounds the title character Jennifer (Megan Fox) and her best friend Anita “Needy” Lesnicky (Amanda Seyfried). These two characters have been friends since they were young girls, even though they are polar opposites, Needy is the nerdy one and Jennifer is the hottest, most popular girl in the entire town. The reason behind their enduring friendship, we are told through Needy’s voice over, is “sandbox love never dies.”

The events of the film are put in motion when one night Jennifer decides to drag Needy away from her boyfriend, Chip (Johnny Simmons), and go to their town’s only bar, to see her favorite band, “Low Shoulder.”  As Jennifer tries to attract the attention of the band’s lead singer, Nikolai Wolf (Adam Brody), the bar catches on fire, and after Jennifer and Needy escape to the parking lot, the band convinces Jennifer to get in their van. Needy is left wandering what has happened to her BFF until Jennifer shows up hours later at Needy’s house, covered in blood. Jennifer says nothing and only vomits up an inky, black liquid before leaving.

Needy routinely got frustrated when Jennifer failed to make the bed.

The next day at school, Jennifer is seemingly fine and mentions nothing of the previous night’s events. Something however, is terribly wrong with her, as she was the victim of a botched satanic sacrifice by her favorite band (they mistook her for a virgin) and becomes possessed by a demon. This is a demon that requires human flesh to survive and soon the town’s teenage male population begins to disappear. It’s up to Needy to stop Jennifer before she consumes the entire male population of Devil’s Kettle, Minnesota.

The film’s dialogue is signature Diablo Cody, everyone speaks in a hyper-witty, sarcastic tone that anyone who saw Juno will know as soon as they hear it. The problem with Jennifer’s Body, unlike Juno, is that the dialogue that was fresh and fun then - sounds forced here.  It seems Cody is trying too hard to make the film funny and quirky, and it doesn’t work. The dialogue isn’t done any favors by Megan Fox who, while delivering some decent lines, doesn’t add any emotion behind her delivery. I think Fox, who has complained so much to the press about not being able to show her true talent, was proven wrong. I’m now certain we have already seen her range as an actress with the Transformers series.

Fire. It does a body good.

It also didn’t help Fox look any more capable by putting her opposite Amanda Seyfried (Mamma Mia!). Seyfried proves that she is miles above Megan Fox in the acting department by putting in the film’s only genuine performance as the heroine of the movie. The rest of the cast is decent with J.K. Simmons’ comedic talents going to waste in such a small part. The only other notable performance besides Seyfried, is Adam Brody’s comedic cameo as the band’s lead singer.

The films biggest offense however, is its tone. It’s never clear what the film is trying to be. It has elements of horror, but is neither scary nor gory enough to be considered a horror film. It isn’t a comedy, as it doesn’t feature enough laughs to be in that genre. Lastly, it can’t be considered a teen sex comedy either, as contrary to what the film’s publicity and its premise would have you believe, the film features no nudity. The sexual elements are rather PG-13 (sorry, Fox fans).

In the end, the film’s muddled tone really brings the whole thing down. It can’t decide what it wants to be, and it fails for this reason. If “Body” falters at the box office – I’m sure Megan Fox will continue to get roles with her looks alone and Cody will continue to write scripts – I just hope next time she brings something new to offer and doesn’t try to replicate her Juno dialogue again.  Jennifer’s Body is not a true disaster, but it lacks any real soul.

The opening scene of Post Grad gives us a unique spin on an intro to a film, Ryden Malby (Alexis Bledel of TV’s “Gilmore Girls” and Robert Rodriguez’s Sin City) is handling her social media mess with a video blog post that explains it is her graduation day from University and she is ready to embrace the next phase of her life. The screen is filled with email pop-ups with Ryden conducting the video, responding to messages, and it is actually pretty cleverly put together.  Too bad the rest of the film doesn’t live up to that level of creativity…at all.

The film descends into cliché at nearly every turn, wasting a nice performance from a long missed Michael Keaton (in Mr. Mom mode here) and squandering any opportunity it had at continuing the creative momentum with which the film was briefly moving.  Zach Gilford (TV’s “Friday Night Lights”) plays Ryden’s best friend, a singer/law student who has long had a crush on her, and the movie attempts to balance Ryden’s career ambitions with her love life the rest of the way.

David sees an opportunity with Ryden and takes his shot.

We see Ryden move back in with her parents after trying to land a loft apartment, she struggles with finding work and deciding what is most important to her.  She will be taught life lessons along the way.  I mentioned cliché right?  What seemed like it might be a more ambitious piece of work, touching on adult themes of how challenging it can be to land a job, apropos in these difficult economic times, and how one needs to make risky choices on their own in order to stretch themselves, something Keaton as Ryden’s Dad encourages, there is no raising the bar. Instead we get a rather pointless and completely trivial boxcar race that is meant to be Ryden’s final awakening, showing her there is more to life than the pursuit of her dreams.

Jane Lynch (Role Models) J.K. Simmons (Juno) and Carol Burnett as Ryden’s grandmother, effectively interject whatever level of humor they can into their roles.  The best line in the film comes from neighbor and love interest David (Rodrigo Santoro), when he advises Ryden that, “only half of life’s importance is the act of doing something, the other half, the more important half, is who you do that something with.”  He meant that her career isn’t everything – to nobody’s surprise – she got the message.

Ryden attempts to land her dream job.

Vicky Jenson, who has worked extensively in the animation field, with co-directing credits for both Shrek and Shark Tale, didn’t take advantage of those experiences for this live-action pic.  Apart from the aforementioned opening sequence, she doesn’t give us much of interest to look at, particularly struggling with her one “action” scene during the boxcar race.  She tried to rely on humor and the leads to carry the day.  But the script and lack of chemistry from the romantic leads failed her.  Similar to this year’s The Great Buck Howard, this glaring problem really hurts its prospects at being at least a decent movie.  Hopefully Jenson can learn from this misstep should she try her hand with real actors again.

My leg bounced impatiently often during the film, not a good sign. It is completely standard fare with nary a hint of originality.  It’s almost surprising that the same studio (Fox Searchlight) made (500) Days of Summer and this movie.  It’s too bad for Bledel, who is cute enough and actually holds the screen, but ultimately comes across as awkward in a few scenes due to stilted dialogue and a touch requiring more than she was able to overcome alone.  The movie is about taking chances in your post-graduate life, a lesson that might be easier said than done for many, but the package that the message is delivered in, is one that I would just assume have left in school so it can learn to become something more unique.  Post Grad needs a Doctorate in filmmaking before it can become what it intended to.

The search for love; the search for your “one and only” rather, is at the heart of this road trip/coming of age tale, based on real events.  My One and Only, the new movie titled on a hit song by Dan Deveraux, father to real-life actor George Hamilton, is a parable of sorts. Known for his almost leather-like tan in real life, here he is merely a boy, George Deveraux.  The story is a journey of discovery for George and his family (primarily his mother), during their travels on a coast-to-coast trip from New York To California.  There are few surprises, though put in the context of real-life events that happened, it carries itself to a marginally watchable film.

An early scene places us in the middle of a fight of a wealthy Manhattan couple that has clearly been through the drill before.  The cynical, womanizing Dan is caught with his pants down and bed occupied by another conquest, while his wife Anne (Renee Zellwegger) arrives home earlier than expected.  They have such a been there, done that, routine to things that Anne even offers to help dress the “tramp” caught with Dan as she exits during the blowup.  Anne threatens to leave Dan (“for good this time”), taking their two sons with her.  Dan laughs it off knowing the whole time that Anne has no means of supporting herself.  Thus begins the aforementioned trip that starts east and moves west.

"Cruisin' down the street in my 6-4." Not quite "Boyz N The Hood."

Anne and George share screen time for the remainder of the journey.  While Dan’s band plays to packed crowds on the road, leading the crew and charming the audience to his “one and only” hit song, Anne’s quest is much different on their road, as she stupidly and stubbornly attempts to find a husband who can fund a life for herself and her sons.  Unfortunately, George clearly sees their quest to be more about herself, as he and half-brother Robbie are continuously on the move from city to city, school to school, all t he while, Anne is moving from man to man.  While it is told through George’s eyes, Anne’s travails are the highlighted ones, as she stubbornly and stupidly tries to carve out a life away from Dan.

The film is told in a very direct narrative and directed without any hint of visual flair by Richard Loncraine (Firewall, Wimbledon).  It is 1953 and he captures the time accurately (as far as I can guess, I am not that old).  He clearly yearns for a more elegant period, emphasizing the traits of a gentlemen and blue-collar work ethics.  To his credit, he leads us down a path following this troupe, leaving the audience thinking we might expect to see a certain result, and not entirely seeing it in the end.  At the same time, knowing that the story is based on George’s life without taking too many liberties, we had a pre-determined result that was expected.

It’s Mark Rendall’s “Robbie” who steals most of the scenes.  The boy who wants nothing more than to be an actor had everybody eagerly anticipating another jaunty one-line zinger from him.  The flamboyant half-brother to George (Robbie is not Dan’s son) is an obviously gay kid who “won’t be the man in any relationship,” so says one of Anne’s suitors played by Chris Noth (Sex And The City’s “Mr. Big”).  Speaking of Noth, he is one of many actors who appeared with not much to do.  Former Terminator 3 star Nick Stahl has a curiously small role. Eric McCormack has an even lesser appearance. Finally, Kevin Bacon steps in as ex-husband Dan.

Young George is played by Logan Lerman; Logan Wade Lerman to be exact.  He is named after two characters from X-Men series of comics apparently; Wade is the first name of “Deadpool” and Logan, the first name of “Wolverine.”  Why am I sharing that with you?  To this point, that is the most interesting thing about him, until this movie.  He does an admirable job of being one of the main characters and holding the screen. While not a lot is required of him emotionally, he doesn’t misstep at all either.  He can soon be seen in Gerard Butler’s Gamer, so we’ll keep an eye out for how his career develops.

George routinely sought the "5-finger discount" from his Mom's purse.

On the flipside, I wondered aloud after (during) this movie whether or not Zellwegger’s career is on the downside now.  She had reached mega-stardom after hits Bridget Jones Diary, Chicago and Cold Mountain in the first part of this decade, but she hasn’t had a hit since teaming with Russell Crowe in Cinderella Man in 2005, which wasn’t a runaway success.  I think she is struggling to find her niche as she has bounced around from dramas to comedy, and while it is great for her to stretch herself as an actress (I wish more people in her position would), perhaps it is a cautionary tale for why people don’t do so more often.  She has struggled to find audiences for 4 straight movies now and I suspect this will continue in that tradition and become the 5th.  I am merely musing about her prospects, not necessarily saying that I don’t like her or she doesn’t deserve a better vehicle.  We’ll see.

As for the film, there are pointless asides in the coming of age for George; an encounter with a girl you think might lead to a love story that doesn’t and the repetition of Ms. Deveraux’s trials in searching for a husband become agonizing.  She is in continuous chase of money, feeling being wealthy is a rite not a privilege. Her great looks cause jealousy in her family, but her age and children are a detriment to being able to find a man.  Her dalliances with an ex-military man, a mentally ill man who is partial heir to fortune, a stop for prostitution, and more, all place the focus squarely on her choices and troubles.  Anne’s struggles with finding a husband are a slap in the face to women and at the same time an expose on their often hidden predatory nature and desires.  To have Loncraine tell it, in that era in particular, it seems a woman longed to be kept by a man of wealth.  Poor George Hamilton.

Ultimately, nothing incredibly outlandish happens.  The saving grace for the film would be if it could play to jam-packed houses of blue-hairs it might have a chance. The audience (strangely so, in my eyes) seemed to enjoy it a fair amount.  It was very nostalgic for them. While older heads may get a lot of humor of it, I don’t suspect it’s box office prospects are remotely strong in the least.  This really has the look and feel of a direct-to-DVD film.

A high-end female escort service is supposed to provide, at least in theory, a fanciful male fantasy for a few hours.  Or so that is the thinking of the common, untried man.  But in Steven Soderbergh’s The Girlfriend Experience, we follow an escort who “provides” as the title suggests, the serviceable act of being a girlfriend which is much less fantasy and much more grounded in basic human interaction than one might suspect.  Steven’s “GFE” is a slice of life in Manhattan that takes place just prior to President Obama’s election to office and Soderbergh depicts the “girlfriend” as much more of a business woman than a fantastical being.

Real life porn star Sasha Grey stars as the titular escort Christine who goes by Chelsea during her visits.  As Chelsea, she embodies less a man’s fantasy but more so someone to keep these men company.  Most of the guys who use her services are among the wealthy elite, so her clients routinely complain to her about the economy all the while shelling out big bucks just to spend time with her.  An interesting dichotomy from that standpoint but there is no central conflict here.

Naturally, escorts do have lives outside of when they are working and that is what “GFE” focuses on.  Christine is living with Chris, a personal trainer who himself is on his own come-up, seeking placement for his exercise-related clothing line and a salaried position with a local gym.  The couple has but one main rule with their relationship and that is for Christine not to become emotionally involved with any clients.  She values numerology as a source of spiritual enlightenment however, and it drives many of the decisions she makes in business and in life.  These issues prove challenging for them as you might expect.

A not so revealing talk in Soderbergh's "Experience."

Very much an art film, Soderbergh is back to his indie roots as he employs a jumping timeline to keep the talking heads moving and make no mistake about it, the only thing that takes place in the film is conversation.  That is not to diminish the film per se, but the voyeur in you will come away disappointed in this character study.  While one expects the promise of plenty of sex (perhaps even on videotape like in Steven’s seminal Sex, Lies & Videotape), there is none to be had.  In that regard this would be more aptly called the “Wife Experience.”  I wasn’t unhappy with the lack of on-screen sex as intimacy of a variety of sorts takes place, but if sex is what you wish for, you might want to seek out Grey’s usual line of work.

While the ending is somewhat telegraphed, the real difficulty lies in the fact there is little emotional punch in the film.  The inexperience of the actors lead Soderbergh to use trickery to best hide their flaws via dim lighting or obscure camera angles.  The characters do draw you in but this is more of a study in capitalism.  Christine has her regulars and rookies, balancing her attempts to branch out into various forms of business enterprise where opportunities and outside input are equally ample.  Of note, film critic Glenn Kenny steals one scene as a sleazy, well, critic of adult entertainment and there is a nice thumping score supplied by Ross Godfrey.  In the end, there is just not much to excite one here though and after seeing this movie, The Girlfriend Experience is not one in which you’ll likely want to partake in again anytime soon.

Perhaps it was the emergence of The 40-Year-Old Virgin that marked a change in cinematic comedy. Hollywood has since moved away from quaint PG-13 humor, forever in search of a “hard R.” Virgin certainly wasn’t the first comedy to earn an R rating and succeed, but the rating seems to be the predominant one in the genre ever since it touched down four summers ago. Hollywood turned its back on the Mike Myers and Jim Carrey slightly distasteful forms of laughs and it has yet to turn back. This change was welcomed by me, as I was never one for feature length comedy to that point and I was given Borat, Knocked Up and Superbad almost immediately afterward. However, things may have reached a ceiling where it’s too much. Such is the case with Observe & Report.

Ronnie Barnhardt is a mall cop (not unlike our friend Paul Blart). Oops, strike that. He’d correct me. He’s “head of mall security.” Most likely, this is due to seniority since he doesn’t appear to have any other ambitions in life, except for maybe scoring with Brandy, the make-up-counter girl. Then, something profound happens to him, or at least he perceives it as happening to him. A flasher emerges, taking the mall parking lot by storm. He runs up to cars as women pull into spots, exposing himself to his victims by the mere opening of his tan trench coat. He lurks behind bushes and pick out his next target. When he takes it out (“It?” “It.” “Out?” “Out.) for Brandy is when Ronnie is forced into action. He figures finding “the pervert” will bring him closer to Brandy and vows to do so.

The mall director has other plans, however. He doesn’t believe Ronnie has what it takes to catch the flasher and bring him to justice. Detective Harrison is brought aboard to help work the case. Ronnie is immediately taken aback. So confident he is in his ability to catch the flasher and use it to finagle a path to Brandy, he takes issue with Detective Harrison horning in on his turf and his job. Ronnie proceeds to make things difficult on Detective Harrison as he attempts to ascertain information which may help in determining the culprit, while Ronnie’s only concerned with his own reputation and ego. Detective Harrison erupts in Ronnie’s face, insinuating he was a “rent-a-cop” and not capable of handling the situation. This ignites a fire in Ronnie and his next round of business is to become a police officer himself.

Without the interference of Detective Harrison, Ronnie escorts Brandy back to her vehicle one night and cons her into going on a date with him. Although she blatantly disses him, or “forgets” as she says, Ronnie is persistent and willing to wait and they go out for drinks at a restaurant. Ronnie is infatuated with her and although she acts like the consummate slut, he declares to “accept” her. The date culminates in copulation, but is never mentioned again. Ronnie then proceeds with his newfound purpose in life, to enforce the law along the likes of Detective Harrison. What will happen if things don’t go according to plan, though? How will the bi-polar Ronnie react to the eclipsing of the one dream he’s ever had?

"Ha. You take Cialis? That's like the old person's Viagra."

Observe and Report was written and directed by Jody Hill. Hill emerged a few years ago when his debut, The Foot Fist Way was seen and loved by Hollywood comedy giants, Will Ferrell, Adam McKay and Judd Apatow. The star of that film, Danny McBride has rocketed in fame since its screenings and he and Hill just finished working on “Eastbound and Down” for HBO. The humor in this and his first film are very similar. Both feature somewhat unlikeable protagonists that are full of themselves for ultimately no reason. What about being a mall cop provides Ronnie with the arrogance he carries? Perhaps it’s his home life, handed the pressure of being the only man in the family, having to deal with his permanently drunk mother. Hill injects an anger in his lead character, which never seems to waver, but is always on the verge of boiling over.

Seth Rogen has been permanently fixated with the role of foul-mouthed outsider and he succeeds in bringing his typical talent to the table, but as has been proven in his past couple of roles, he can’t elevate a script and a story into something it’s not. Known as a master of improvisation, either he didn’t bring his “A” game to the set or wasn’t given the reign necessary to utilize him to maximum effect. His persona has steadily declined in laugh ratio in recent projects, making you wonder if he really achieved the heights you thought he did starting out. However, I’m confident Judd Apatow can get the best from him later this year in Funny People. The unsung comic force in the film is Michael Pena, as Ronnie’s partner in crime, Dennis. He flexes his comedic muscle in a way never seen before. He will get noticed and expect to see him distributing more laughs your way, soon.

At only 86 minutes, Observe and Report goes by quickly, but not necessarily efficiently. There’s a subplot involving Dennis, which is good for a montage of laughs, but you can’t help but feel it was added purely to pad the running time. Although bi-polar, Ronnie’s character is uneven. He’s obviously ready to burst, and we see his home life as a reason for it, but it’s not something that even occurs to him. Why is he so upset at life if he appears so content? It’s a contradiction in character. The humor in the film itself comes from a very angry place. A visceral comedy if ever there was one. The film beats you over the head both verbally and physically. It’s loud and in-your-face. This would all be forgiven if the film was funnier, but alas it isn’t. Although the brutality may be absurd, it’s still brutal to endure.

I’m not at all saying comedy needs to be tame. I love “Comedy Central’s Roast of Pamela Anderson” with a passion. I enjoy the insults. I just think that filmmakers are now using cursing as a crutch. Larry David once said on a “Curb Your Enthusiasm” episode, “you throw in a f*ck, you double your laughs,” yet he tries to curtail the amount of cursing on the show. I’m all for it, when it’s funny. However, as some very recent R-rated comedies have shown, there needs to be something more to it than that. Just because you can, doesn’t mean you should. Observe and Report isn’t the first offender, nor its worst, only the latest and it suffers accordingly. Hopefully, we’ll soon get another comedic revolution. We’re due.

When a person or thing has “great” as part of its title, expectations for said item grow exponentially. Basketball superstar LeBron James is nicknamed “King,” and his play on the court has backed up the moniker. In contrast, The Great Buck Howard is a film that crumbles under the weight of its name. John Malkovich stars as the titular Buck Howard with the “great” portion of his identification added years ago by talk show host Johnny Carson years ago. Howard is a mentalist, a magician of sorts, who made 61 appearances on “The Johnny Carson Show” back in the day. He hopes to regain the fame that has eluded him of late, aiming to do Jay Leno’s “Tonight Show” and possibly a regular gig in Vegas.

Howard’s career is caught between his being a “has been” and “can still be.” He needs help to make his career work. Enter Colin Hanks, who is on board as Troy Gable. Troy has been bred to be a lawyer, pushed and prodded in that direction by his father his entire life, but he doesn’t see that as the life for him. He drops out of law school and moves to LA to pursue writing, taking a gig as Howard’s road manager to pay the rent. Howard, who is a decade removed from any sort of celebrity relevance, travels the country playing small venues in his variety act, with Troy handling minor assistant duties.

While Buck’s act entertains simpletons in half-empty auditoriums, the story really centers on Troy’s “growth,” of which we see little. On the road he encounters Valerie (Emily Blunt), a publicist in Cincinnati who is trying to assist Howard in getting a crowd for a special trick he plans to perform which could catapult him back into the limelight. A needless love story sidetracks us. Through no rhyme or reason, yet being telegraphed a mile away, the duo fall into a sexual relationship during Troy’s brief stay in the city. They lack any sort of palpable chemistry, despite Blunt’s considerably quirky efforts.

Gotta get the cash, gotta get the dough.

While Malkovich embodies Howard’s self-important diva behavior, I didn’t sense the desperation for a return to stardom that was supposed to be evident in his character. He does his usual yeoman’s work but didn’t elevate his game for a starring role, hitting the big notes but not the subtle ones that could have propelled the film further. Hanks doesn’t help much. While he has little to work with, he also doesn’t flesh any emotion out of Troy’s (and his, perhaps) opportunity to come of age.

Sean McGinly writes and directs, sans flair. His other credits include, well, nothing of any note. There is very little in the way of amusement (I failed to so much as smile), the direction lacks any sort of panache (I was not wowed) and the script is too straight-forward (for this type of film, a veering off-course would have been welcome). It is mostly a fable on how fame is fleeting and difficult to maintain with myopia running rampant in the mind of the fallen star, but it’s also a parable about finding what it is you want to do and living out your dreams. While the message is honorable, it has been done better in countless films.

Colin’s real-life father, Tom Hanks (yes, him), makes a small appearance in two scenes as his father here as well, but he ultimately provides little punch to a largely listless film. Guest shots from the respected Steve Zahn and Ricky Jay don’t provide the wallop we would hope. Stints with several real-life talk show hosts during Howard’s career renaissance (or is it?) conclude in a “too little, too late” sort of wrap to the proceedings.

Part of the “magic” in the story is Troy’s belief that Buck’s most well-known trick, finding his cash payment hidden in the audience at the end of each live performance, is somehow real. While it is never proven how the trick is accomplished, a better trick would have been to add some excitement to this boring affair. This is one film where I would advise you to save your “bucks,” since Buck Howard, as a prominent magazine article declares in the film, is “not so” great.

Addictions are treated like diseases. Addicted to drinking alcohol? You’re an alcoholic. Your disease is called alcoholism. In addition to destroying your body, it destroys your relationships with others. Treatment of alcoholism is done through groups of peers. Alcoholics Anonymous gathers like-situated people, all affected by their addiction. They attempt to band together and conquer their demons with the help of each other. An addiction far less publicized, even if far less fatal, but more of a detriment to one’s financial security, is the disease of shopaholism. I’d love to say Confessions of a Shopaholic depicted the dark nature of addiction, but it’s far too concerned with showing how ditzy young women are consumed with consumerism. I’m painting it to be something it isn’t.

Rebecca Bloomwood has been obsessed with clothing since she was a little girl. She was one of those outsider children whose parents’ penchant for fashion was less than popular. Her childhood was ideally parodied by DJ Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince’s “Parents Just Don’t Understand.” She dreamt of “magic cards” that come from being an adult in which it isn’t even necessary to possess money to receive goods and services, especially clothes. The swipe of card was like a genie granting an infinite number of wishes, and Rebecca only wished for clothes. One that would make her stand out, make her popular, and most of all make her feel good about herself. She grew up, got herself one of those “magic cards” and felt great.

Then, the backlash comes in the form of an itemized paper bill. Even worse is that it’s not just one, but multiple bills. The “magic cards” fight back. Her job at a gardening magazine has been enough for her to get by, supporting her bad habit (“She’s a naughty girl with a bad habit, a bad habit for clothes”), but she soon learns the magazine is folding and she’ll be laid off. No job equals no income, which equals no way to pay down her debt. The dire straights force her to seek out her dream job, writing for a fashion magazine. Through a series of quirky circumstances, she ends up at financial savings magazine in the same building, instead. Rebecca Bloomwood working for a savings magazine? “The ironing is delicious.” “The word is irony.” (That’s not from the film, but an appropriate quote from “The Simpsons.”)

It turns out Rebecca has spent her last dollar of earned credit on a green silk scarf and it’s become obvious she needs to take the savings magazine position if she’s ever going to get her life and debt under her Gucci belt. Her boss, Luke Brandon, is an Englishman hiding from his sartorially salacious mother, trying to make a name for himself in the business world. He quickly realizes Rebecca is out of her element, but instead of instantly firing her, he decides to make her his project. He has her shout out testy questions at a shareholder’s meeting. He even takes her to the biggest financial conference of the year, letting her dip more than just her toes in the water. Of course she withholds one thing from her escapades with “Fluke.” A certain bad habit she’s trying to break. When he finds out, will he be upset? If he gets upset will they break up? If they break up will they get back together? Just think about any romantic comedy you’ve seen before, to find out.

"What can I write that would be better than this? Anything!"

The film is based on a couple of bestseller books by Sophie Kinsella. Two books were actually molded in to one to create this script, and it took two writers (Tracey Jackson and Tim Firth) to do it. An original thought or concept would have been nice, but instead, we’re left with neither. I can lay no claim to what the source material contains, but I refuse to believe the ruination was purely the work of Hollywood. The script absolutely reads like a “how-to” for romantic comedies. The only thing that changes is the profession. I like that the girl isn’t a complete idiot. She obviously has some set of skills aside from the natural aesthetic. She possesses the ability to write, and that’s something. Unfortunately, it turns out the fictional character can write better than those crafting her story.

I can honestly say I willingly went into this movie, or at least didn’t put up a fight when I was asked. I thought it might have some potential. I like Isla Fisher. She’s a very cute girl and being engaged to Sacha Baron Cohen can only be a massive positive. It’s also produced by Jerry Bruckheimer (Con Air, Armageddon). It’s weird to me when he branches out and does these non-action-oriented films (Coyote Ugly, Kangaroo Jack). I have no idea why he goes beyond his grasp. None of these strays end up being any good. I look forward to seeing Fisher is movies for years to come. Everybody loves her portrayal in Wedding Crashers and she tries hard to bring the funny here, but sometimes it’s impossible to do so when the script doesn’t allow for it. Isla, we like you, but we want you in something else. If you can do something with your fiancé, please take advantage.

You would like to think that a romantic comedy can at least do one of the two things it promises to do, right. Alas, you’d be wrong if you’re thinking of this movie. The romance is completely thrown in for the hell of it. It isn’t truly developed aside from the fact the one’s a girl, one’s a guy and they’re both in close proximity to each other. Romance angle: written. Comedy would be the second vow of the genre. Good luck receiving any. I might admit do delivering a smile or a chuckle, usually due to Fisher’s bubbly personality, but must go out of my way to mention John Goodman and Joan Cusack who play Rebecca’s parents in this. Their mercilessly few scenes are a godsend. Goodman will forever be a winner in my book after The Big Lebowski, but here he and Cusack are the most creepily, trying-to-be-charming parents I’d ever seen. It’s unbearable and almost made me embarrassed to witness such plight.

There will be movies I hate and there will be movies that suck. The former category earns my ire and therefore makes me upset to have seen it. The latter category is just a waste of my life. Confessions of a Shopaholic fits squarely in the latter and thus I don’t feel it’s in dire need of dismantling. It’s a good thing the public ultimately ignored the movie, even if it was just because they didn’t want to be reminded of their credit problems in this poor economy. At least they stayed away. I wish I chose to save my money for that new tie I’ve been eyeing.