Yes Man

You’ve probably heard that Jim Carrey’s new comedy romp is similar to his 1997 film Liar Liar, and for the most part, you’ve heard right.

Liar Liar had Carrey involuntarily tell the truth for 24 hours, Yes Man finds Carrey jumping head first into a new philosophy of voluntarily saying yes to any proposition that is offered to him.

This includes rides for homeless men, accepting every spam E-mail and pop-up ad, going out with his friends when they want to, etc. Most if it is all harmless fun, the point being that by saying yes, new doors are open up for him. This includes meeting a quirky singer, the always darling Zooey Deschanel.

The bad side is that Yes Man goes for a few too many cheap laughs. By saying yes to everything Carrey soon finds himself accepting felatio from an elderly neighbor (why, dear God, why). Yes Man is probably exactly what you’re expecting, a comedic escape from the heavy-weight Oscar material swirling around the cinema. Having said that, I’d say no to this Yes. D+

Seven Pounds

If you’re tempted to see a new film with aching emotion, a plausible story and dynamic acting, please skip Seven Pounds.

About 30 minutes in, I knew that I was being steered down a meandering mess of a film. The movie introduces Will Smith as Ben Thomas, an IRS agent that feels like he must give back to a select number of people. Why the need for redemption? No idea. Why these people? Not a clue. Why is it called Seven Pounds? Couldn’t tell you.

The movie barely answers any of the many questions it raises. It is a jumbled mess and one of the year’s most disappointing films. I had high hopes for Italian director Gabriele Muccino, who directed Smith with great emotional restraint in The Pursuit of Happiness. But alas, this film is nothing but a waste for good talent. There is plenty to see in the theatres right now, so do yourself a favor and save the weight. D-

My Favorite Scene: GoodFellas

Choose what you will: Joe Pesci’s manically brilliant “I’m funny how?” interrogation; discovering all the bodies to the piano-end of “Layla”; Ray Liotta’s coke-fueled, maddened day of demise scored by some of history’s greatest rock songs. Every scene of Martin Scorsese’s 1990 mafia-crime saga is staged, pop perfection. GoodFellas is a film full of passionate sequences that have had a hand at influencing some of the best young filmmakers today.

I first saw GoodFellas when I was 12 and one scene in particular has been impossible to shake. A scene so shocking in its execution, that it has been known to ruin the rest of the film for some viewers. With a movie comprised of one startling scene after another, it comes as no surprise that its most breathtaking moment comes first.

The film opens with a car cruising down a dark highway. We cut to inside the car, Liotta behind the wheel, dazed and rubbing his eyes, Robert De Niro asleep in the passenger seat, Pesci dozing off in the back. Suddenly we hear a loud thud. Then another and another. Car trouble? Did they hit something? Suddenly a wave of disbelief forms over the characters’ eyes. “No,” Liotta exclaims, holding out the word in doubt.

They pull over in secluded woods. Lit by the harsh red glow of the taillights, the three Italian-suited men stand behind the car, looking at the trunk. De Niro motions for Liotta to pop the trunk. As Liotta moves closer to the car, Pesci reaches in his suit pocket, pulling out a devastatingly large butcher knife. The trunk flies open. It’s a nightmare.

A bloody mess of a man, beaten to a pulp, gasps for breath, pleading for his life. “He’s still alive!” Pesci yells as he moves over the man, stabbing him in the chest again and again and again (and again). De Niro moves in a shoots the man once, twice, six times. Liotta walks over to the trunk, suddenly his narration booms over the soundtrack proclaiming one of the best lines in motion picture history: “As far back as I can remember I always wanted to be a gangster.” BOOM, he slams the trunk and Tony Bennett’s “Rags to Riches” begins to play.

It happens so fast, that you’ll have to remind yourself to blink, let alone breathe. What the hell just happened? Who the hell was that? Who ARE these people?

When Scorsese was done writing the script with Nicholas Pileggi, he knew he needed something more. A kick to jolt the viewers and prepare them for the life he was about to present. He did a risky thing. He took a scene from the middle of the movie and put it in the beginning, knowing the audience wouldn’t find out what it was for another hour. But I’ll be damned if it didn’t pay off.

For the rest of the film, you won’t be able to forget that opening. Even after we find out who the guy is and how he got in the trunk, you’ll remember the nod De Niro gives Liotta, the way Pesci casually pulls the knife out, how Liotta slams the trunk shut.

Rarely does a movie set its tone so perfectly. Yes, GoodFellas is a violent film. But Scorsese never stylizes the violence; he never makes it “look cool”.

Instead he presents three accurate decades in the life of the mafia. This is the way it was done and this is how he wants to paint it, butcher knives and all. Unlike the Godfather films, Scorsese wasn’t interested in slowly developing the characters; ultimately, he wanted to get your attention right away.

Not only does he get it, he keeps our mouths dropped in shock, where it stays for most of the film.

Milk

Politician Harvey Milk ran several rigorous campaigns in San Francisco before he became the first openly gay person to be elected to public office in the United States. He preached peace through practice and understanding. He was frank and precise with his politics, namely the fail to pass Proposition 6, which would’ve fired all openly gay teachers from public schools. He was ultimately killed by fellow city supervisor Dan White, who got off on a light jail sentence for killing Milk and San Francisco mayor, George Moscone.

That’s what you can get from The Times of Harvey Milk, Rob Epstein’s remarkable, Oscar-winning documentary. But in Milk, Gus Van Sant’s bold, incredible new film, you get a whole lot more.

In Milk we get a more personal view of a motivated man with many faults. Milk (Sean Penn) was a failed Wall Street banker who immigrated to a free-spirited California in search of meaning. He quickly made a name for himself on San Francisco’s Castro Street, becoming known to gays and straights alike. Soon enough a business in the Castro couldn’t function successfully without Harvey’s say-so. The film continues to follow Milk through his political career, battling Prop 6 and the conservative White, while also paralleling Milk’s personal life and his inability to hold a relationship.

The film, with a tight script by Dustin Lance Black (Big Love) is executed with subtle power by Van Sant. Milk has its big, climatic moments, sure, but they aren’t presented with a blazing musical score or fancy cinematography. Instead, it’s as if you are in the crowd, as another spectator. Milk plays out so accurate to real life that it’s startling.

As Harvey Milk, Sean Penn gives the best performance of his career. Penn, often known for the ferioucious intensity he brings to films like Dead Man Walking, Mystic River and 21 Grams, is so remarkably subtle in Milk that we hardly know it’s him. He embodies Milk to the fullest extent. Wearing the three-piece suits, flawlessly recreating Milk’s accent and mannerisms; it is a triumphant performance, one of the best in recent memory.

Penn is backed by the year’s best cast, a multitude of young actors who all deliver career bests. James Franco, as Milk’s longtime partner, and Josh Brolin as Dan White, are namely profound. They should compete against each other come Oscar time.

Maybe I haven’t talked about the plot as much as I should. But plot isn’t necessary in describing this film. Milk has all the elements of classic filmmaking, those elements may not be executed in a way that’s familiar, but the film is a daring feat by any estimation.

Van Sant, who was nominated for Good Will Hunting has made his best film yet. In lesser hands, we would’ve had a conventional bio-pic. Milk is an outstanding work of art that touches a broad range of emotions. With the recent headlines concerning Prop 8, the film makes you question how much we’ve accomplished. It stands timeless and unique, and my God if it doesn’t give you hope. A+

Slumdog Millionaire

Hold your breath, folks, you’re in for one hell of a ride. Danny Boyle’s Slumdog Millionaire breathes life into the film medium. It’s multi-genre’d, original as hell and all together remarkable.

Dev (Jamal Malik) is an impoverished Indian teen who has wound up on India’s version of “Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?”. Dev may not be the smartest kid around, but somehow he’s one question away from being as rich as the host. How did he get here?

Slumdog Millionaire’s unique narrative (which is a character itself) answers that question by cutting from the questions Dev is asked in the game show, to past experiences in his life that somehow reveal the answer. So essentially, every question is a story. Some of the stories are hilarious, others heartbreaking, several cringe-worthy, but they are all poignant and fierce.

Over the film, Dev, his wily older brother, and Dev’s love interest, Latika (Freida Pinto) are each played by three different actors. Each actor blends perfectly with the other ones. At times, it’s hard to even notice that they’ve grown up. That’s a very good thing. We’re so engrossed with the story, that we never see the switch, not too many films can pull that off.

The authenticity of the film helps with its overall brilliance. Filmed in the streets of Mumbai, we get a front row seat to musty brutality. You’ll feel cramped in the streets as Dev runs from the police, bustling his way through thousands of people. You’ll feel the wind in your hair as Dev catches a free ride on top of a train. You can smell the grime and taste the shit.

I’m not going to talk about any of Dev’s stories or the outcome of the game. But know that this is a brutally honest often frank portrayal of life in the hard knocks.

Visionary director Boyle, who never makes the same film twice, has grabbed us again. He defined drug addiction with Trainspotting, made zombies scary again with 28 Days Later…, even cooked up a thoughtful family film with Millions. Now, giving us his best film yet, he’ll shoot right to the top of the list for best director.

Slumdog Millionaire is rated R for some violence, disturbing images and language. The violence is sparse, yes, but when it comes, it comes fast and furious. Give Boyle credit for doing it tastefully. I only mention the rating because I think this is a film that every single person needs to see. I’ll even call it a family film given the values that are presented.

It makes it all the more prevalent that several of the filming locations were recently struck with unspeakable tragedy. Seeing the film now is like watching a whimsical love story that takes place in the twin towers. But get ready, Slumdog Millionaire is a big Oscar contender. It’s the most original film of the year. Should you go see it? You don’t need any lifelines to figure that one out. A+

Synecdoche, New York

To be honest, I have no idea whether or not I liked Synecdoche, New York. On one side it is wildly original, fiercely acted and beautifully imaginative. On the other hand, it is almost completely incoherent, pointless and seemingly dull. Charlie Kaufman, the wondrously twisted mind behind the screenplays of Being John Malkovich, Adaptation., and Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, directs his first feature which appears to be a little too weird for its own good. Philip Seymour Hoffman (consistently great) plays Caden, a mildly depressed, quick aging theatre director who gets a genius grant that lets him create whatever kind of production he wants. Caden decides to make a never-ending play featuring thousands of actors and sets as large as city blocks. Caden wants something real, something true to life. This explains why the actors play the people around them. For instance, Caden hires a man to play Caden. He hires a woman to play his love interest, a woman to pay his wife and so on. This creates something of a mess. The idea is terrific in a Kaufman sort of way, but the execution is flawed. I couldn’t understand, for instance, the ironcal signifigance of one of the main character’s houses always being on fire. The people in the film know it’s on fire, they acknowledge it frequently, yet they go on living in it. Sleeping, eating, having sex, and so on. Do we take it at face value? Of course not. But what then? Or why? I have no idea. To its benefit, Synecdoche, New York has a great, female friendly supporting cast including Samantha Morton, Catherine Keener, Michelle Williams (at her very best), Hope Davis, Jennifer Jason Leigh, Emily Watson and Diane Wiest. But even that many talented faces aren’t enough to comprehend what is happening. Synecdoche, New York will make you think, and it could very well inspire some post-film chatter, but mostly out of annoyance. Seeing this won’t do you any favors, skipping it may. C-

Listen to my podcast on Philip Seymour Hoffman

Quantum of Solace

Bond is back, and better yet, he’s back as Daniel Craig. Craig, the best Bond since Sean Connery (and may prove to be better, in time) kills it as our favorite international spy. Only this time, his antics are a little less distinguishable.

If you like Bond films for the gadgets, the corny dialogue and the cheesy slogans, you better skip this one. Quantum of Solace is far more like Craig’s first outing as Bond, Casino Royale than such farce as Moonraker.

Casino Royale breathed life into a seemingly dead franchise with awesome power. It will go down as one of the very best Bond films. Quantum of Solace is not so lucky. Yes, Craig is good, but that is about it. In addition to having one of the worst titles in franchise history, Quantum of Solace does little to impress.

Sure there are explosions and chases and machine guns and gorgeous femme fatales, but the film lacks any real substance. If you’re worried about plot (is that really why we see these?) then here it goes. In the franchise’s first straight-up sequel, Bond is out to find the people that axed off his love from the last movie. He chases after them and gets wind of a secret organization that wants to control… water. Not oil, not weapons, but… water. Amazing.

My first question is, why hire brilliantly subtle director Marc Forster (Monster’s Ball, Finding Neverland) to helm a Bond film? I was hoping to be shocked, but I wasn’t. Forster is in way over his head, and it shows.

All of my quips aside, Quantum of Solace did entertain me, but it lacked the startling originality of Casino Royale. Shame, considering the incredible energy Craig brings to the table. Craig, who is contracted for two more Bond films, will benefit from some better material next time around. Until then, go rent Casino Royale. B-

Role Models

Paul Rudd and Seann William Scott bring their respective senses of humor to this somehow refreshing comedy romp.

Rudd, a consistently sarcastic, quick-bantered everyman; and Scott, consistently stuck as Stiffler, are two energy drink salesmen who ran their truck a little ramped and end up doing community service for a Boys and Girls-type foundation.

Rudd is paired with a shy dork (Christopher Mintz-Plasse, aka McLovin) who likes to reenact live-action medieval games. Scott is teamed up with the much funnier, foul-mouthed hellion Ronnie (Bobb’e Thompson).

The film delivers some genuine laughs, most from Thompson and Jane Lynch as the whacko who runs the organization. But it stalls hard in the third act. I understand that director David Wain (Wet Hot American Summer) wants to put a delicate action-humor spin on the film, but it takes away from the rest of the movie.

Don’t get me wrong, Role Models is funny and Rudd and Scott make a good a pair. I just wish things turned out a little differently. Side note: if you like Elizabeth Banks and don’t want to see two movies, skip Zack and Miri Make a Porno, this is far better. B

Rachel Getting Married

Welcome to this year’s hidden-indie wonder. Rachel Getting Married, Jonathan Demme’s new mini-masterpiece, is completely alive.

Kym (Anne Hathaway) gets a temporary release from rehab to attend her older sister’s wedding. The funny, educated Rachel (Rosemarie DeWitt) is getting hitched to subtle musician Sidney (Tunde Adebimpe, lead singer of indie-rock bank TV on the Radio), at their beautiful childhood home.

The film follows Kym around for the wedding weekend. We meet her protective, flamboyant dad (Bill Irwin), old friends, step mothers and so on. But what we’re privy too, and what we notice right away, is the tension between these people.

To call this family dysfunctional would be a complement. They have past tortures (mostly caused by Kym), that has all but ruined them. The characters engage in long, brutally honest conversations that feel as authentic as any conversation I’ve heard in film.

Many of these scenes are hard to watch, due to their shear realistic nature. There is one such scene, when Rachel blows up at Kym in front of the whole family, that felt like it was taken right out of my own life. I’ve had conversations like these, I’ve lived through some of these times. And that’s why Rachel Getting Married is so brilliant, it touches chords in us that are rarely exposed in the film medium.

Anne Hathaway is a revelation. You don’t too often find a character in rehabilation who is actually happy to be there. There is no relapsed scene, no use of drugs at all in fact, there is just a blatant honesty that echoes off the walls. Each one of Hathaway’s scenes is better than the one before. She’ll grab you just as easily in an NA meeting as she will fighting with her mother (Debra Winger). This is a flawless performance. Oscar, here she comes.

While I was so utterly impressed with Hathaway, it must be said that the real marvel here is DeWitt. I can’t recall seeing her in anything before, but she’s the one that has stayed with me. DeWitt gives Rachel a presumed innocence of a life lived in the shadow of her troubled younger sister. But don’t let her charm fool you. Rachel is ready to go pound for pound with any family member, her wedding be damned. There is a scene towards the end of this film, involving a long hug between mother and daughters, that could very well earn DeWitt an Oscar nomination, or even the award.

Demme hasn’t been around much lately. Hot in the late ‘80s- early ‘90s with films like Married to the Mob, The Silence of the Lambs and Philadelphia, Demme now directs his best work in over a decade. Using low-quality HD cameras, no real musical score and a heartbreaking script by Jenny Lumet (Sidney “Dog Day Afternoon” Lumet’s daughter), Demme gives us an unforgettable experience. He also gives what I’m sure will remain one of the very best films of the year. This is a triumph in cinema, everyone will be moved. A+

Changeling

At 78, who’s better than Clint Eastwood? The man has released four masterful films in the last five years. And he has another one out in December. Most directors get lazy with old age. Not Eastwood. He’s ripened with glory.

Changeling is the true story about Christine Collins, a single mother whose son as abducted in the late ‘20s. Collins fought a corrupt LAPD system, imposters and serial killers. She was a single, working mother in a time when single, working mothers were very hard to come by.

To be honest, I don’t want to say any more. There is a sudden shift in the storyline about halfway through that people may already know about (it’s not Million Dollar Baby drastic, but it is significant.) So rather than revealing it here, I’ll focus more on the acting and technical proficiency that goes into making an Eastwood film.

Angelina Jolie is fantastic. She embodies the very essence of loss and grief, something she did marvelously just last year in the underrated A Mighty Heart. I can’t say if she is better in Changeling, but I’d say she’s damn close. I believed her intentions in every single scene of the film, it’s a knockout performance.

The supporting players, mostly male, are terrific as well. John Malkovich is convincing as an unselfish pastor, willing to help Christine at any cost. He despises the LAPD and he uses his church influence to magnificently persuade. Jeffrey Donovan does horrific wonders with his slimy LAPD captain; desperate to conceal what he knows is true. Michael Kelly shines as a cop with a clue. Even Amy Ryan shows up as a mental patient with a harsh tongue.

But the real scene-stealer is Jason Butler Harner, an actor I had never heard of. I’m reluctant to say what role he plays but believe me, you won’t be able to get his face out of your head. He's charming yet monsterous. Think Heath Ledger's Joker.

Eastwood uses grim photography and a subtle piano score (by him) to capture the time period. The costumes and makeup are spot on, bleeding with fluid authenticity.

Like his other recent films, Changeling has some hard scenes to watch. They’re meant to disturb and they do a great deal. But be patient, Eastwood respects his audience, he’ll never do you wrong. Just when I thought this movie was over, he kept on going, usually a problem in today’s cinema. But here, I didn’t want the trip down memory lane to end.

I can’t say if this film is better than Mystic River or Million Dollar Baby (although few are to me). What I can say is that Changeling stands on its own. It has a compelling vision that locks you in right away. Enjoy the ride. A

RocknRolla

Let’s face it, Guy Ritchie has never been able to live up to his explosive debut, Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels. He came close with Snatch, sure. But each film he’s done since has been a worse reimagining of those first two.

RocknRolla is no different. Here we get Ritchie’s usually mash-up of crooks and gangsters. There’s a bald and fat Tom Wilkinson as a high-level mob guy who controls the real estate market. The badguys who work for him, (and subsequently rip him off… twice.) The cool, calm and collected Russian. The junkie rock star. And on and on.

RocknRolla, while mildly entertaining, is still muddled with Ritchie clichés. His characters go off on long, pointless monologues about things like crawfish, and his violence is drawn out and tiring.
So, what’s good about it? Criminally sexy British actress, Thandie Newton is radiant as a crooked accountant. She gives vibrancy to a seemingly throwaway role. Another actress may have made this character forgettable, not Newton. You can’t take your eyes off her.

And there’s Mark Strong as Wilkinson’s right-hand man. Strong is known for his villains (he tore off George Clooney’s fingernail in Syriana). I actually enjoyed Strong in this. His sly gestures and swift smacks to the face almost kept RocknRolla afloat. Almost. C-

Zack and Miri Make a Porno

You don’t have to be too imaginative to guess what this one’s about. Life-long pals Zack (Seth Rogen) and Miri (Eizabeth Banks) need cash in order to keep the apartment they share. Because the two lack any dignity and family members, Zack says, they decide to make a low-budget porno.

Kevin Smith, one of the pioneering indie filmmakers of the ‘90s, directs his latest with the same raunch that he’s know for cooking up. Zack and Miri is nowhere near as original or clever as his Clerks, but it does have its moments.

There is a great, all-too-brief scene with Justin Long as a gay porn actor from LA. Long, the funnyman from Accepted, The Break-Up and Waiting…, gives this film its best scene. He talks with a deep, raspy voice while sipping a cosmo. It’s flat-out hilarious. And is that the most recent Superman as his lover? You bet.

Unfortunately, the rest of Zack and Miri lacks any real comic zeal. Sure a few of the gags are funny, (I particularly liked the result of the cameraman filming underneath two people during the porno shoot.) But for the most part, this is throwaway humor that almost mocks your stupidity. D+

Pride and Glory

There are too many cop shows to even keep up. And with excellent ones like The Wire and The Shield, who needs more? The movies aren’t usually any better (We Own the Night anyone?). But here is a wildly explosive, refreshing take on a used formula.

Director Gavin O’Connor dives head first into a story about an investigation that follows the brutal murder of four NYPD cops. Veteran cop Francis Tierney (Jon Voight) wants his smart, burnt-out detective son Ray (Edward Norton) to lead the investigation. The four cops worked under Ray’s brother Francis Jr. (Noah Emmerich) and with Ray’s brother-in-law Jimmy (Colin Farrell). Ray hesitantly accepts the job, and is soon in way over his head.

With a riveting script by O’Connor and Joe Carnahan (Narc), Pride and Glory is a witty thriller that keeps you pinned to your seat. Ray soon discovers that Jimmy is dirty (way dirty) and his brother Francis may be in just as deep. So Ray, not knowing who to trust, has to go at it alone to find out what went down, and why.

Edward Norton (as always) is incredible. His blistering performance is his best since 2002’s 25th Hour. He gives Ray an emotional complexity that’s hard to find in most police-character dramas. Colin Farrell, who makes The Shield’s Vic Mackey look like Mother Teresa, delivers some of his best work as Jimmy. His villainous charm actually reminded me of Heath Ledger’s Joker, completely willing to push his kids on the swings, and in the next scene, use a hot iron as in interrogation tactic.

I’m glad Francis Jr. was cast with Noah Emmerich, an exceedingly talented character actor who has never fully reached stardom. Emmerich (so good in The Truman Show, Little Children and Miracle) is completely believable as a conflicted family man, bound to his cancer-stricken wife, and often turns a blind eye to the men in his unit. And Voight gives us a performance that’s so nuanaced, it reminds us of that Midnight Cowboy he once was.

Pride and Glory has suffered through several theatrical delays. Why? I’m not sure, probably business politics. But if it is marketed properly, its cast could receive a few Oscar nominations. I enjoyed this film immensely, even if the end is a little too easy. But with this group of extraordinary men, you can’t go wrong. A-

W.

Who other than Oliver Stone (the man behind such controversial films as JFK and Nixon) would make a film about the current Commander and Chief? Stone is a man driven making people fully aware of who they vote for next week. He wants us to make the right choice, and elect the right person.

The film focuses an equal amount of time between young and old Bush, jumping back and forth in narrative. It shows his young, drunk antics as a youth, eager to impress his Poppy. His confusing, middle-aged years, when he cannot figure out what to do, and finally, his years as President.

Josh Brolin, in the title role, delivers the performance of his career. Aside from the fact that he perfectly nails every nuance of the man, he also, rather marvelously, makes the character his own. While I am no fan of Bush, I was completely enthralled by Brolin.

His supporting cast is one for the ages. Richard Dreyfuss digs deep into the seeds of Dick Cheney’s master plan, Toby Jones delivers a hauntingly optimistic Karl Rove, Elizabeth Banks makes for a sensitive and hesitant Laura Bush, James Cromwell is a perfect fit for Bush Sr., and the beautiful Thandie Newton does a spot-on impression of Condie Rice.

Politics aside, W. is a bit off-balanced. For one reason or another, the film completely dodges such topics as the 2000 election and 9/11, but manages to make room for a choking pretzel scene. There is a fantastic, 20 minute 'war-room' scene where everyone talks about what to do after 9/11. At the beginning, it is all about Afghanistan, but somehow, thanks to the help of a very convincing Cheney, the focus switches to Iraq. It is a great arch in dialogue and storytelling as Bush stands at the head of the table, seemingly confused about what is being presented.

I saw the film as a story about a wealthy kid with a massive daddy-complex, whose only real dream was to be the commissionaire of baseball. Once in the White House, he let people like Rove and Cheney control his puppet strings.

Is the film accurate? I don't know. And I don't really care; I don't see movies for historical lessons. Oliver Stone based the film mostly on books written by people who were actually in those meetings (like Colin Powell). But honest to God, by the end of the film (which really only goes up to the year 2004), I felt bad for Bush. I saw him as a guy that was in over his head, and when he finally got there, he was just as stunned as everyone else.

W. isn’t all that entertaining and it isn't very informative, but I did appreciate it. People who lean to the right probably won’t even bother with it, but I doubt Stone minds. He’s never been a filmmaker that aims to please all audiences (maybe with World Trade Center). But here, he lets his actors, Brolin in particular, flourish with emotion. B

Saw V

I see these solely based on tradition. They offer no new insight to anything and are getting dumber and dumber. The Jigsaw killer (who died in part III, I think) somehow manages to come back alive through worthless flashbacks that set-up a whole new “plot”. It is never really explained why an FBI detective has taken over for Jigsaw, but it doesn’t really matter, I suppose. People come to these for one reason: to see if the filmmakers have thought of new, interesting ways to kill people. The acting and the plot wholes are so bad in this franchise, that you won’t even care who dies, or how they are killed. But it is Halloween, and if it’s Halloween, it must be Saw.

Judging by the end of this one, this franchise may keep going for a while. The films usually make their money back in their opening weekend grosses, so let’s guess how many of these there will be. It’s a scary thought, but five years from now, can’t you picture a Saw X? D-