The Dark Knight: in IMAX

I’m making a special mention of this film’s technical achievements that are noticed even further when viewed in a flawless IMAX theatre.

I saw The Dark Knight twice before I saw it in IMAX, and it was easily my best experience with the film. This is, after all, the very first movie to have scenes filmed specifically for an IMAX theatre. Director Christopher Nolan made a wise decision to produce all of the film’s action scenes in this brilliant quality.

Most of the film is reduced to a normal movie theatre screen size by widescreen bars at the top and bottom of the screen. But for the few scenes when the screen fully expands, you’ll be completely jolted.

During the opening production logos, the screen was regular format. Then with a subtle BOOM from the soundtrack, the movie opens with that long tracking shot of the side of a building, the five-story IMAX screen maxed to full potential. It was utterly breathtaking.

My advice: see the film first in a regular theatre, then go find an IMAX theatre, pay the few extra bucks, and feast your eyes (on ears) on sights and sounds you can’t believe you may have missed.

Nolan has said he regrets not filming the entire film with IMAX cameras (it’s hard, he says, because the cameras are so large). But rest assured, for part three, he promises a full IMAX experience. Enjoy.

The Dark Knight

Are you ready for the best movie of the summer, not to mention one the best films of the year so far? Well then, here...we…go.

Christopher Nolan’s The Dark Knight is a cinematic revelation. It transcends anything we’ve previously seen in the comic book adaptation genre, including its refreshing predecessor, Batman Begins. The action is real (Nolan uses very little special effects), the editing is tight, the camera work is steadily smooth and the music is effective.

I’ll only briefly touch on plot. Batman (Christian Bale) is growing a little wiry of protecting his Gotham city. He wants a new hero, one that doesn’t wear a mask. He finds it in hotshot District Attorney Harvey Dent (Aaron Eckhart), who is soon dubbed as Gotham’s “White Knight”. Batman is ready to throw up his cape in order to spend his life with Rachel (Maggie Gyllenhall, replacing Katie Holmes). But fighting crime through the justice system only gets you so far when you have a fanatical, suicidal madman, known as the Joker (Heath Ledger) terrorizing the city.

That’s all you’ll get, and frankly, that’s all you need. Instead, let’s focus on the performances, which make the movie, a rare feat in the summer blockbuster season.

As Bale proved in Batman Begins, he is easily the best man to have filled out the bat suit. His commanding presence and booming voice as the Caped Crusader are spot on. And his suave, laid-back persona as Bruce Wayne brings subtle reminiscent of Bale’s star-making role as Patrick Bateman in American Psycho, (which is a good thing). Watch how Bale, as Bruce Wayne, feels out Dent in a dinner scene. With one tight-zoom shot and a subtle smirk, he knows he can trust him.

Gary Oldman (one of cinema’s great chameleons) delivers some of the best work of his career, reprising his role as the honest Commissioner Jim Gordon. Michael Caine and Morgan Freeman hit all the right notes in their respective roles. As does Gyllenhall, who throws out Holmes’ sweet sensitivity and replaces it with feminist ferocity. Eckhart is in great form as Dent, who admires the Batman and has his own plans to bring justice to the corrupt city.

But we all know whose show it is, and we all know why you’re here. Heath Ledger, as the Joker, is better than everything you’ve heard. Every single aspect of his performance is completely flawless. From his nasal, screechy voice, to his slow-moving walk (as if he can’t bend his knees), to his pancake-smeared make-up, this is as fine an acting accomplishment as I can recall. It’s damn near impossible to find that handsome actor hidden behind those dark eyes. Ledger is believable with every nuance of his behavior. Watch him carefully, you’ll be utterly dazzled.
Watch how (in one the film’s most shocking scenes) he makes a pencil disappear. Watch how he casually strolls into a room with no fear. Watch as he circles Gyllenhall, smacking his lips together, almost ready to devour her. Listen to his subtle, creaky laugh before it bursts into a gut-wrenching, manic howl. Listen how he delivers a classic movie line: it’s funny to the audience, but he is deadly serious. Listen to how he tells stories from his past, almost happy that he turned out how he did.

I could dissect every single moment that Ledger is on screen in The Dark Knight as a brilliant one. There is no one scene of his that is better than the rest. Of course this is made all the more tragic due to Ledger’s sudden death in January of this year. If he were still alive, we’d be talking about how this performance is going to put him to the top of the A-List. It would be a career-making performance, but instead, it is now a career-defining one.

Only a handful of actors have been nominated for an Oscar after they’ve died (Peter Finch being the only winner for Network). If there was ever a role to earn a posthumous Academy Award, then this is it. Ledger anchors a breathtaking film by showing us something that we’ve never seen him do. And sadly, that we won’t see again.

Entertainment Weekly recently said that Heath Ledger “might have lived to be as audacious an actor as Marlon Brando, and maybe as great.” After seeing this performance, it's hard not to agree. A+

(Note: in my Favorite Scene: Brokeback Mountain post, I said that, "It’s hard not to feel nostalgic while watching the supremely talented Ledger, knowing that he will never again be able to pierce through our hearts with his eyes." I was wrong. As the Joker, he pierces right into us, keeping him in our minds for days, in a way we never thought possible.)

Wall•E

What a greatly amusing film. Director Andrew Stanton (Finding Nemo, A Bug’s Life) has created one of the very best animated films of all time. The dazzling visual style of Wall•E is worth the price of admission; this is truly a film to be loved by all.

Earth is dead. Rotted away hundreds of years ago, it remains a ruins for skyscraper-high piles of trash. Wall•E, a mini-trash compactor, is all that’s left. Who knows how long his been around by himself. He doesn’t seem to mind. He wanders through day by day, doing his job and collecting American mementos to entertain himself at night.

The first half of Wall•E are nearly free of dialogue, and it is the best part of the movie. There are some genuine laughs to be had (by all ages) in watching this little machine breeze his way through existence.

Soon, a monstrous rocket ship lands, delivering the sleek EVE to scan the planet for life. EVE looks like a giant iPod, smooth and glistening white (obviously a female), and it doesn’t take long for Wall-E to fall for her. Wall•E ends up following EVE into space to a huge space station where earthlings have lived for centuries. Stanton does a funny thing with this new “people”. He depicts him as lazy (the rarely get up from their moving chairs) and fat (hundreds of years of bone growth due to the gravity shift).

The space scenes are fun, and offer more laughs for the kids, but you’ll soon wish we were back on the ground. Regardless, Wall-E is a character with more charisma then most live action movie characters so far this year. I’m not a huge fan of the animated genre, I have a hard time relating. But Wall•E had my attention for its entire two hours. I laughed (out loud) and even got a little choked up toward the end.

It may not be the most entertaining film at the cinema right now (that would be The Dark Knight) but it is one that every member of your family can enjoy. A-

Wanted

Wanted is everything that its target audience is going to… want. It isn’t smart, it isn’t clever, the acting isn’t Oscar-worthy, but it is a balls-out, action farce that is sure to entertain.

James McAvoy (perfect in Atonement) plays a droll office worker living a droll life with a cheating girl and so on. He drinks energy drinks for breakfast and is prescribed pills for his anxiety.

Soon, McAvoy’s Wesley is recruited by an elite, super-assassin squad known as the Fraternity. Fox (a steely sexy Angelina Jolie) is Wesley’s trainer into this dark underworld, led by Sloan (Morgan Freeman). You see, Sloan is the only person who can decipher a piece of cloth and find the name of a person that they need to kill. Get it? Didn’t think so, but director Timur Bekmambetov isn’t really concerning himself with a coherent plot.

Instead he offers us as much blood-splattered violence as any fanboy could possible desire. The members of the Fraternity, jump onto moving trains, curve bullets, fall hundreds of feet and survive, get the shit beat out of them dozens of times over, etc etc.

The film tries to take a third act twist that mostly falters. But oh well, hopefully you came for the action and not the plot. In any case, Wanted isn’t hardly desired. C-

Hancock

Director Peter Berg wants Will Smith’s Hancock to be the anti-Superman. Hancock is lewd, sloppy, and doesn’t have an inkling of charismatic ability, too bad he’s played by… Will Smith, one of the most charismatic and recognizable faces in the world.

In all honesty Smith, in perhaps his nastiest role, does a reliably good job playing a superhero that would rather sleep off a hangover on a street bench than save the citizens of L.A. by using his awesome, invincible power. The first act of the film is hilarious with equal doses of decent special effects. Smith, whiskey bottle in hand, takes constant berating from the people he saves, only to bark profanities right back at them. (The best line of the movie is Hancock explaining to a man why he should sue McDonald’s.)

Where most summer blockbusters stay clear of aftermath explanation, Hancock develops its lead character by showing how society views him. TV journalists bitch about how Hancock keeps wrecking the city, how he is costing the government millions of dollars. People, in short, are taking the superhero for granted.

In comes wannbe PR genius Jason Bateman, who offers Hancock his services in reshaping his public image. Bateman, always reliable in his restrained humor, introduces Hancock to his family, thus beginning the second act, and thus beginning the downfall of the film. When Smith meets Bateman’s wife, as played by Charlize Theron, she gives Smith a look. Then another, then another. Berg really wants you to get the point that these two know each other, so why doesn’t Hancock say something?

In finding out their past, the film takes a baffling turn. Very, “where the hell did that come from?” My guess is it will throw most viewers off to the point of not caring anymore.

The problem with most superhero movies (please exclude Iron Man and Christopher Nolan’s exquisite new take on the Batman franchise) is that they treat the audience like idiots. True, most of us our there to the entertained, but some of us would like to know who Hancock is and how he got to be that way. No explanation is offered because it is obvious that the film so desperately wants a sequel. That will be up to how many people see it, and how many people care enough to tell their friends about it.

I should note that one of the things that initially turned me on to Hancock was its absence of denial from the regular people in the film. It is refreshing to be thrown into the middle of a story (everyone already knows who Hancock is and what he is capable of, there are no exhausting, “figuring out” scenes.) But this trait was soon the film’s downfall, as when Bateman figures out the story behind Hancock and his wife and takes it very, very easily. A little denial would’ve not only been fair, it would’ve been accurate. C+

The Happening

M. Night Shyamalan is one of the few filmmakers whose films have gotten consistently worse throughout his career.

The Sixth Sense, his feature film debut, was a phenomenon. It scared and it shocked. It was genuine, original and practically demanded repeat viewings. His follow-up, Unbreakable, was equally good but suffered from a flat, half-hearted ending. Signs, a box office smash, had its creepy good moments, but its convenient, lackluster ending frustrated viewers. Now we take a turn for the worst. The Village was tired, boring, predictable and way to into itself; Shyamalan’s ego began to get the best of him. Similar with Lady in the Water, the what-the-hell-are-they-talking-about, PG-13 rated children’s mystery.

Now we have The Happening, by far Shyamalan’s most bizarre, egotistical feature. Its interesting premise is shot to shit by overacting and (again) convenient sequences. The beginning begs to lead to a promising feature: on a crowded Central Park morning, people suddenly became disoriented, lose speech, then kill themselves. This happens again at a construction site (our first hint that this film is not going to deliver, due to untactful echoes of 9/11). But then we cut to a science classroom in Philadelphia, and all is lost.

Mark Wahlberg, a tremendous actor, is simply terrible in this film. His voice never leaves that high-pitched, perplexed state, his face has only one emotion no matter the scene and his believability is completely absent. My only guess, given his stellar performances in Boogie Nights, Three Kings and The Departed, is that Wahlberg was directed poorly. I believe Shyamalan told him to act like a lost, confused little puppy throughout the entire shoot.

Similar to virtually everyone else in the cast. Talented Zooey Deschanel looks like she doesn’t know where she is, John Leguizamo (why cast him in the first place?) isn’t convincing in the slightest, and Ashlyn Sanchez (the girl with the invisible cloak in Crash) is nearly mute.

With every Shyamalan film, you have to be willing to accept what he is giving you. You have to believe that a kid can see dead people, or that a man is invincible, or aliens exists and so on. But The Happening has so many plot holes, that you won’t even bother to play along.

Shyamalan ditched his trademark twist-ending after The Village flopped, but that is no cause for the characters figuring out the entire film 25 minutes into it, offering a lame explanation that’s just thrown out there and never contested.

With a film this preposterous, you’ll think you’re watching an old B-movie or a campy Twilight Zone episode (which probably would’ve worked if Shyamalan played his cards right). But The Happening wants you to take it very seriously. But believe me, you won’t care less. D-

The Incredible Hulk

The first 20 minutes are pretty cool. A white man (Edward Norton) is hiding out in a City of God-like place. He is trying to develop a cure for a disease rooted in his blood. The military tracks him down and we are given a breathtaking, rooftop chase a la The Bourne Ultimatum.

But we all know what’s going to happen next, and in fact, once the Hulk comes out of his shell, we wish Norton would come back. As Bruce Banner, Norton gives yet another consistently thorough performance. No matter the genre, Norton has proved that he is one of our best living actors. His face full of complexity and turmoil, his believability stunning through his yearning for lost love.

The Incredible Hulk directed by Transporter vet Louis Leterrier has thrilling action scenes and solid performances, but it may not live up to the hype. Liv Tyler, her career getting a boost with The Strangers and now this, is a good match for Banner as Betty Ross. Her father, the general, played by William Hurt carries a convincing scowl, as does Tim Roth, who develops an envious hatred for Banner.

The effects are good, and the setting (like a college campus) is refreshing in its destruction. But the question everyone wants to know is if this Hulk is better than that other Hulk a few years ago. The simply answer is yes.

Ang Lee’s much more talkative Hulk suffered from okay performances and a comic-book narrative that never really paid off. It had its decent moments, but its flaws got the best of it. Similar to Leterrier’s version, because the third act of his film takes a turn for the worst.

I’m not sure what the hell is going on here, but once Tim Blake Nelson’s manic doctor gives Roth a little hulk boost, the film completely switches gears. It begins to doubt itself and resort back to clichéd action-film faux pas.

Much has been made about the controversy surrounding the final version of this film. Norton and Leterrier didn’t get the final cut they wanted (they wanted it longer) but the studio wanted something faster. I’d be curious to know how much of a difference the long version would make. Would it fill in those monstrous plot holes left by the third act? We’ll have to wait for a director’s cut DVD to judge.

The best part of this film is the cameos. Old TV Hulks Bill Bixby and Lou Ferrigno have spirited moments. But it’s Robert Downey Jr. briefly reprising his Iron Man, Tony Stark character that gets us excited. Watch the way Downey Jr. strolls into a seedy bar, lifting his leg up with an effortless, playful bravado. For a moment we’re reminded of his revolutionary performance a view months ago, and given a glimpse that there may be more to come. B-

The Strangers

Much in the way of Michael Haneke’s Funny Games, The Strangers is a non-conventional horror film about maniacs who like to terrorize people and give no motive what so ever.

Forget the blood and guts garbage that is Saw and Hostel, this is the shit that really sends chills up your spine.

From the opening disclaimers, “true story, date and setting, events unknown” the film wants you to know that it is not just a movie, that this could, and has, happened before. How much of it is true I couldn’t say, film’s take liberties with the “based on a true story” tagline. Director Bryan Bertino has said that he took the plot from his own life experiences and mixed them with the stories of Charles Manson’s “Family”. Either way, The Strangers plants a seed of haunting familiarity.

Kristen (Liv Tyler) and her boyfriend, James (Scott Speedman) go to his reclusive, darkly lit summer home after a wedding reception. The interest of this film is what Bertino reveals through emotion. A tear down Tyler’s face hints that this is not a romantic, weekend getaway. This is not a perfect, fairy tale couple, they have real human problems and are about to be forced into real, yet hellacious, circumstances.

As the first act slowly (yet marvelously) develops, we sit in cold anticipation for the terror to begin. Unsettling camera work from Peter Sova keeps us on edge when suddenly a bang (not a knock) on the front door startles us out of our seats. James tells the blonde-haired girl that she has the wrong house. She leaves, but we know she will soon be back.

If you’ve seen the preview, then you’ve seen too much. In one bravado shot, Tyler, temporally alone in the house, smokes a cigarette in the living room as a masked man steps into frame, watching her move about the kitchen, waiting patiently for his moment of attack, only to retreat back into the unknown.

The three masked stalkers do everything in their power to haunt the couple. They bang, scrap, break glass, cut the lights and phones, anything to further the mayhem. Tyler, and Speedman in particular, are fantastic. The small details (Speedman doesn’t know how to assemble or load a shotgun) are completely believable causing us to sympathize for them.

So, why would you want to see this? Because it is something new. The blood is little, but the terror is thorough. Sure it retreats to some familiar, horror-movie antics (why does the female always fall down while running away?), but at 90 minutes, first time director Bertino keeps his film fast, fierce and refreshingly scary. B+

Sex and the City: The Movie

Let’s talk about Sex. Those of you (mostly women, I’ll assume) who swore by HBO’s hit series can find comfort in the latest emotional ups and downs of Carrie and Co. It’s been four years since the show ended and the film wastes no time catching us up.

Where we left off: Carrie Bradshaw (Sarah Jessica Parker) and her longtime flame Mr. Big (Chris Noth) proclaimed their undying love for one another. Miranda (Cynthia Nixon) moved to Brooklyn with companion Steve and their son. Samantha (Kim Cattrall) found a lasting love in television actor Smith (Jason Lewis), and Charlotte (Kristin Davis) was living happily ever after with husband Harry and their newly adapted baby.

Where we are now: In the four years since the show ended, Carrie is now a published and popular book writer. She is still with Big and they are still happy. Miranda is still working too hard as a lawyer, taking her work home with her far too often (like… no sex in six months too often), Samantha lives in Hollywood working as Smith’s manager, and Charlotte, well, she lives happily ever after with husband Harry and their now older adapted child.

Where the conflict is: Carrie and Big get a swank, 5th Avenue pad, and decide to get married. Steve tells Miranda about a slip, Samantha misses New York and is sexually frustrated (“We’re going to be one of those couples that only has sex three or four times a week.”), and Charlotte, well, she gets what she’s always wanted in her happy ever after fairy tale life.

The good news is that fans of the show will like getting more of the same. The bad news is that it is just too damn long. We are used to watching a 22 minute episode, and when that is bumped up to a two and half hour movie, well, it can wear and tear at your patience. The film is basically five episodes viewed back to back, spanning a year in the lives of your favorite women.

Series writer Michael Patrick King directs the film with the same sensibilities as the series; meaning, the women are great, particularly Parker who has never seemed more comfortable as an actress than playing Carrie in Milanos.

Sex and the City the TV show was full of spunk and raging wit. The film has that, but in a dragged out, endurance -testing format. Where the show thrived on unique storytelling, the film boils down to basic chick-flick formula, not too many surprises are given; even the most dedicated fans could find themselves wanting more.

Given the film’s monstrous first weekend box office gross ($55.7 million for an R-rated film is amazing, $55.7 million for an R-rated chick flick is unheard of) I expect that you will be seeing a lot more Sex, sooner rather than later. B-

The Visitor

Let’s start an Oscar campaign. Richard Jenkins, a great character actor known most recently as the ghost-dad in HBO’s Six Feet Under, gives the best performance of his underrated career, not to mention one of the best so far this year.

As a widowed, down-on-life college professor, Jenkins molds himself into Walter Vale. With remarkable subtlety much in the way of Lost in Translation and Sideways, Jenkins is so engrossingly powerful, that you will undoubtedly forget you are watching an actor.

Sent to a conference at NYU, not too far from the Connecticut school where he teaches his single class, Walter discovers a foreign couple living in his city apartment. They aren’t squatting; they think they are renting legitimately. Soon, Walter asks if they would like to stay with him, causing a completely unselfish change in his life.

Tarek (Haaz Sleiman, beautifully restrained) from Syria and his girlfriend Zainab (Danai Gurira) from Senegal, allow Walter to wake up and start embracing life. This engrossing transformation is thanks, in part, to Tarek teaching Walter to play an African drum. The Visitor is marvelous at demonstrating the universal power of music.

Written and directed by talented actor Tom McCarthy (if you saw the last season of The Wire, you’ll never forget his factually inept journalist). McCarthy isn’t afraid to detour his film on a completely different path once Tarek is arrested and put in an immigration jail. He also does not shy away from pointing out what he feels are flaws in the American policy and practice of deportation.

The film is hardly a political event, McCarthy rather focuses his attention to the human connections that we can make regardless of voice, race and misunderstanding. Once Tarek’s mother Mouna (Hiam Abbass) is introduced, the film hits a new emotional peak. Jenkins and Abbass are perfect together, sustaining each other’s emotions flawlessly.

The Visitor is a small film with one hell of an emotional wallop. Oscar needs to be aware of McCarthy’s poignant screenplay, the three supporting characters, and most notably, Jenkins’ magnificent portrayal of a man finding himself through foreign means.

The final scene of this film is so intense in its execution and subtext that you will not, for the life of you, be able to let is escape you. And believe me, that is a very good thing. A

Standard Operating Procedure

Errol Morris doesn’t make documentaries in the conventional way. His method and technique are as distinguishable as any great narrative storyteller. He plays his films like Hollywood productions, spending dubious amounts of money to entertain the audience, all while teaching them something.

Morris made his approach famous in his breakout film The Thin Blue Line. That film, which got a man released from prison for a murder he didn’t commit, highlighted Morris’s use of constant reenactment from various points of view, booming musical score, tight slow motion shots and direct-eye interviews.

Standard Operating Procedure uses all these traits flawlessly in examining the pictures we’ve all seen from Abu Ghraib. The naked prisoners with underwear over their heads, the human pyramids, the Christ-like figure of a man standing on boxes, these all made headlines back in 2004. But most of us, including Morris, wanted to know what the papers wouldn’t tell us.

Morris tackles the story behind the camera with extreme journalistic integrity, never stating an opinion or political agenda. He lets the characters speak for themselves; it’s up to you if you want to believe them.

Lynndie England was the soldier most of us saw of the front pages. At barely 100 pounds, it was hard to forget her tiny frame “dragging” a naked prisoner by a leash while smiling into the camera. Love, she explains, was her greatest enemy. It appears that the unseen monster behind the madness was staff sergeant Charles Graner, who England, at 15 years his junior, fell desperately in love with.

Most of the interviewees were in the prison when this mistreatment took place, some of them, like England, are responsible for the pictures themselves. Most everyone in a picture got jail time, and now they present themselves as soldiers who were simply following orders.

Several questions are raised on this topic, the most obvious of which is why. Why were they doing this to the prisoners? Why have them naked? Why put them in sexual positions? Why these particular men? Morris doesn’t answer any of these questions with 100 percent fact, we only know what the people tell us.

The pictures, of which there are thousands, speak volumes. Their haunting images are enough to unsettle any movie goer. This is not an easy movie to watch. But more frightening that the photographs themselves are the testimony’s of the soldiers involved. “These pictures weren’t torture,” one soldier tells us. “It’s what went on when there was no camera there, in the interrogation rooms. That was torture.”

Confessions like these make you wonder how much of this behavior really went on in Abu Ghraib, and how much continues today that we don’t hear about?

I’ll never tell any of the startling discoveries that the film unfolds, but it should be known that not all of the prisoners in Abu Ghraib were bad men. Some were regular citizens, who, when thrown into hellacious circumstances, ran their mouths a little bit. Wouldn’t you? A

Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull

In every Indiana Jones movie, there is this thing. Call it a trick, or technique or specific shot, but in each of the four films, director Steven Spielberg dedicates a few scenes for you to really take Harrison Ford seriously. The set-up: Ford is talking with someone, very serious and gruff in his manners. As he speaks, the camera steadily zooms closer and closer to his face. Somehow the small line of dialogue Ford was spitting out turns into a three-paragraph monologue, and you’ll wish you had been paying attention the whole time.

This trick, I’m sorry to say, is the best part about the new Indiana Jones flick. The scene takes place in a diner, while Ford smoothly impresses young greaser Shia LaBeouf. Soon after, LaBeouf and a few of his leather-glad buddies are in a standoff with the preppie gang. It’s a great moment, like West Side Story mashed with Grease. But then, sadly, we get back to the movie at hand.

Indy is older, Spielberg not only wants you to know it, he makes a point at highlighting it. Set in the 1950s during the Cold War/nuclear holocaust scares, Spielberg is genius at setting up Americana nostalgia that older crowds will get a kick out of. And there in lies the problem. After its amusing first half-hour, Indiana Jones falls into a tired, confusing and rather boring plot.

The story, which is damn-near impossible to explain, involves Russian Communists, old Indy flames, giant disgusting bugs and even makes room for a completely out-there extra terrestrial subplot.

Spielberg, one of the greatest filmmakers of all time, has two sides to his vast talent. On one, he flexes his inner-child, showing off his boyhood desires. Sci-fi pics like E.T., Minority Report, and Jurassic Park are always fun. On the other end of the Spielbergian spectrum we get the serious auteur. The man that creates masterpieces like Schindler’s List, Saving Private Ryan and Munich. Although we can all acknowledge his talent in his “fun” work, we usually wish he showed us all he’s got.

But here’s the low down: if you’ve enjoyed watching Ford thrash his whip for the past 20 plus years, then you’ll most likely enjoy this too. An impressive supporting cast with the likes of Cate Blanchett, Ray Winstone, Karen Allen (where the hell did they find her?) and LaBeouf (the kid is going to be a big, big star) help move the film along. But it’s Ford you came for, and it’s Ford you’ll get. Kudos to the aged actor for still being able to so seamlessly emerge himself into the character.

Spielberg’s technical talent is unquestioned, thanks much in part to fantastic stunts and reliably superb cinematography from collaborator Janusz Kaminski. I just wish he took the film more seriously (or less seriously for that matter) because even a talented cast can’t stop you from checking your watch. C-

Iron Man

Summer movie season is here, and damn if it doesn’t kick off with a bang. If the big blockbusters this summer are anywhere near as thrilling as Iron Man, then we are in for one hell of a season.

Robert Downey Jr. is perfectly (and unexpectedly) cast as billionaire Tony Shark, a boozing, womanizing asshole who manufactures weapons to fuel wars. “If we had peace, then I’d be out of business,” he says early on. Downey Jr. completely embodies Shark’s right-wing, capitalist philosophy and it comes as no surprise that he nails the superhero aspect, too.

Shark is captured by terrorists, who tell him to make a bomb for them, or else he is dead. Knowing he’s dead anyway, Shark begins to create an iron clad, indestructible suit, that is the prototype for his Iron Man.

Gifted actor turned director Jon Favreau (Swingers, Elf) directs Iron Man from one thrilling scene to another, not all of which, thanks to a great cast, involve explosions. Terrance Howard plays a Colonel who doubles as Shark’s best friend and soon-to-be sidekick. Gwyneth Paltrow has fun as Pepper Potts, Shark’s personal secretary and love interest. (Have no fear geeks, this comic-book adaptation of a film won’t ruin your time with a boring lost-love subplot.) And Jeff Bridges with no hair and a sinister goatee does a great job filling in the role of the main villain.

Much in the way of Christopher Nolan’s Batman Begins, where Christian Bale was superb as an unexpected choice for Batman, Downey Jr. fuses his best qualities as an actor into a usually predictable role. He gives his Iron Man a sense of believable duty with equal parts guilt. Little details set this film in a different class from garbage like Transformers. Just becoming Iron Man is not enough far Shark to escape himself. He still has a weakness for liquor and women; there has been no sober transformation in becoming a super hero. Such a trait is bold and sincerely refreshing.

Pulling in huge box office numbers (a sequel is already scheduled for a 2010 release) it will be interesting to see where Favreau takes his character. But like this year’s sequel to Batman Begins, The Dark Knight promises to be a film worth watching. For now, enjoy the show. There’s no way the summer can keep up with Iron Man’s heat. B+

Redbelt

There aren’t many writers that can match David Mamet. For style, the man is nearly invincible. His distinct voice is the best part of his work, always managing to find the perfect actors to speak his explosive words. He brought the talent from his early screenplays like Glengarry Glen Ross and Wag the Dog and now puts them into his directorial efforts. Similar to his State and Main, Heist and Spartan Mamet’s new film Redbelt will have you laughing in cynicism.

Redbelt takes place on the familiar rainy streets on the wrong-side-of-town setting that Mamet has made famous. Gulf War veteran Mike Terry (Chiwetel Ejiofor) owns and instructs a jiu-jitsu dojo where he teaches the fundamentals of “the academy”, practicing the philosophy of a strict code of moral behavior that he lives by. His wife (a smoking Alice Braga) busts his chops constantly about money, something Mike feels unnecessary. It isn’t soon before a plethora of characters are thrown into the mix and become entwined in each other’s lives.

After an event with a lawyer (Emily Mortimer) and cop Mike instructs, wheels are set in motion to fuel the charged film. Soon a famous action-hero actor (Tim Allen, in his best role to date, nailing the Mamet dialouge in a breezy bar scene) and his squad of gooney guys are stirred into the Mamet pot to dive deep into a dark underworld.

Redbelt acts as a who’s-who for character actors, most of which are Mamet vets. David Paymer and Joe Mantegna always deliver their best work when Mamet his written their lines. And Ricky Jay (a great performer) gives another spot-on performance. No one utters a Mamet line better than Ricky Jay. Other supporting characters fill out the full cast sheet, all while making their mark. Cathy Cahlin Ryan who plays Vic Mackey’s wife on The Shield gives one of the best five minute performances I have seen in quite some time. Her eyes pierced with anger, her words filled with disgust.

Chiwetel Ejiofor (pronounced chew-a-tell, edge-e-o-four) gives yet another brilliant performance as a guy who is forced to relinquish all he has lived. The title of Oscar Winner will precede his name before too long.

Mortimer, great in Lars and the Real Girl, always has her voice on the edge of cracking, ready to whisper or scream in an instant. The scene when she tells Mike why she is an embodied mess will stay with you for a long time.

But the real star here is Mamet himself. He doesn’t make mainstream movies, his films appeal to a narrow group of people, but that group expands every time he releases something new. I always tell people that they haven’t heard the F-word until they’ve heard it from a David Mamet character. The plots themselves almost seem second to the dialogue, the beauty of Redbelt is its ability to stand up to the material. A

Snow Angels

The first remarkable film of 2008 is here, and most of you haven’t heard of it. David Gordon Green’s Snow Angels is a poignant examination of small-town life, much in the way of In the Bedroom and The Ice Storm. Green takes the characters from Stewart O’Nan’s novel, and forms a powerful adaptation full of twists, turns and classic cinematic drama.

A series of narratives are introduced through our many characters. There isn’t just one central plot to follow, a hard feat that the film tackles with sly ease. Arthur is a loner, highschool band kid who begins to fall for the desperately cute Lila. Their tender relationship is the backdrop for a separate, tumultuous affair that wrecks havoc on the town. Arthur’s old baby sitter Annie (Kate Beckinsale, breaking us down with her eyes) is trying to support her daughter and keep a safe distance from her separated husband Glenn (a miraculous Sam Rockwell).

Snow Angels is so layered and deep, it would be criminal to share any plot details. Once Glenn returns to the town (after a few months away, from where, I’ll never tell) with a new religious attitude on life, conflict is bound to ensue. He’s given up booze and wants to be a part of his wife and daughter’s lives. Annie gives him a few chances, but she has her own problems to face, not finding the time to baby sit a grown man.

As young, talented actors, Beckinsale and Rockwell have never impressed this much before, these are the best performances they have ever delivered. Oscar nominations, please. Beckinsale buries her British beauty and encompasses her every manifestation into Annie. The result is a daring and harrowingly gut wrenching performance. Rockwell, who has proved himself before with Heist, Confessions of a Dangerous Mind and Matchstick Men gives his Glenn s hauntingly razor-sharp edge. His tortured, bearded face won’t be able to escape your thoughts, days after you leave the theatre.

Olivia Thirlby (we’ll be seeing a lot of her) hides behind her thick glasses, shadowing herself from her breakout role last year as Juno’s best friend. Thirlby, whose first role was as a passenger on United 93, is a perfect match for Michael Angarano’s Arthur. The two have more chemistry then most adult actors in movies today.

With Snow Angels, Green has crafted a quiet little masterpiece. Unforgettable in its execution. Most films save the dramatic wallop for the last few minutes of the picture. Here, it is unleashed early in the second act, a bold move that pays off. Green is hoping that the conflict will keep your attention for the duration of the film. It not only grabs you, Snow Angels cuts you deep and never, for a second, let’s go. A+