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Happy Feet 2 starts off on a happy foot (pun intended!) with a grand opening montage of dancing and singing penguins. This film had us tapping our feet and singing to surprisingly cross generational selection of songs covered in the film. Mumbles (voiced by Elijah Wood) is now an adult penguin with a family of his own. His wife Gloria (Pink) is one of the most beautiful female penguins with an amazing voice who tries to foster a more positive relationship between Mumbles and their little penguin, Erik (EG Daly) who finds himself without “happy feet” and rather clumsy.

The message is the same, don’t be afraid to be different, and always put your friends and family first. However, the story bounces back and forth between the penguins plight of being trapped by newly formed avalanches, and their reliance on other penguin tribes, and a krill’s quest for independence and evolution. Bill the Krill (Matt Damon) and Will the Krill (Brad Pitt) added some of my favorite parts, with witty dialogue and fun bantering. The addition of these new characters and a puffin named Sven (Hank Azaria) certainly mixed things up a bit. However Sven’s accent left my 7 year old asking, “What did he say? He sounds weird!”

The music was fun, the energy was cool, and overall I was surprised that I liked the sequel just as much as the original, especially in 3D.

Warning:  If you haven’t read the books, these reviews may contain spoilers!  Also, the vampires sparkle in the sunlight, so . . . yea, there’s that.

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A ho-hum review for a ho-hum biopic.

The H-Bomb:  To call J. Edgar Hoover one of the most controversial figures of the 20th Century is almost an understatement.  He is the man who more or less created the Federal Bureau of Investigation as we know it today, and ran it with an iron fist for nearly fifty years, right up until the time of his death.  He was also considered a control freak who often abused his power to ruin the reputations, careers, and lives of many, many people.  You would think that the life of such an individual would make for one dynamic biopic, but in the overly-understated hands of producer/director Clint Eastwood, you would be mistaken.

The film, told in non-linear fashion, basically covers the highlights of Hoover’s career;  from his early days hunting and deporting anarchist radicals, to his introducing of scientific methods, such as fingerprinting, into criminal investigations, to his heading up the investigation of the Lindbergh baby kidnapping, to his attempt to bring down Martin Luther King.  Along the way we get glimpses of his contentious relationship with Bobby Kennedy, his aversion to the opposite sex, his Norman Bates-like relationship with his mother, as well as his longtime “partnership” with his “confidant” Clyde Tolson.

Occasionally, we are treated to some interesting factoids, like how he came to be addressed as J. Edgar, and how he dreamed of an America where everyone’s information would be registered and available at a moments notice, in the name of stopping crime, but most of the speculative behind-the-scenes stuff seems to arrive at one single conclusion, that Hoover was insecure.  He was insecure in the extreme, maybe because he was maybe gay, maybe because his demanding mother expected too much from him, who’s to say?  Sadly, if you’re looking for any real insight into this most fascinating of historical figures, there is very little to be found.  They go as far as to show him trying on his mother’s nightgown after she dies, but they don’t even touch on what might have been contained in his infamous secret files.

Aside from failing to give us a sense of who J. Edgar was, aside from what we could already surmise, Mr. Eastwood’s film also falls short as entertainment.  Every would be dramatic event from his life, from an early bombing, to the Kennedy assassination, to pretty much everything else is treated in such a matter-of-fact way that they have little to no emotional impact whatsoever.  Eastwood has always been on the low key side as a filmmaker, but here his approach is so leisurely, he keeps the whole film limping along at the same “so what” tempo, that he renders it all dramatically inert.  Even the scene in which the skeleton of Lindbergh’s baby is found, which should be inherently upsetting, is ineffectual due to the indifferent storytelling.

That’s not to say that “J. Edgar” is without any virtues.  The film certainly looks great, thanks to Tom Stern’s artfully shadowy cinematography and the handsome production design by James Murakami, which makes Hoover’s F.B.I. office, where the film spends a good portion of its 137 minutes, look appropriately closed off and claustrophobic.  It conveys, far more effectively than the script does, how Hoover is involved with, yet weirdly disconnected to, many of the important events going on around him.

Solid production values aside, the film is also aided by the efforts of a game cast.  The casting of Leonardo DiCaprio as Hoover may be questionable, but he puts in a commendable performance, nonetheless.  He’s been bucking for an Oscar for a while now, and this is unlikely to win him one, but still, he shows here that he’s got what it takes to someday nab that little gold statue.  His old man make-up is a little distracting, at first, but it’s not nearly as embarrassing as the layers of crap they piled onto Armie Hammer when he had to portray the elder, post-stroke Clyde Tolson.  Good God, that was just a travesty.

As for Hammer’s performance, he’s terrific, actually, despite the laughable Mummy make-up.  His Tolson is sympathetic as Hoover’s foil/maybe (most likely) lover, and I wouldn’t be at all surprised to see his name come up when the Oscar Nominations are announced.  Naomi Watts fairs well as Hoover’s loyal, lifelong personal secretary, and actually manages to make a strong impression, despite not getting a whole lot, script-wise, to work with.  As for Judi Dench, as the mother who would rather see her son dead than become a “daffy,” she’s good, in her typical scary, Judi Dench way.  It’s just that Clint makes the mistake of showing her in close up, which makes the old age make-up on the other characters look all the more phony in comparison.

Though the actors all bring their A game, they are let down by Oscar winner Dustin Lance Black’s superficial screenplay, which shows us plenty of J. Edgar doing what J. Edgar did, but again, fails to show what made the man tick.  He was an unhappy, insecure little man who wanted power and glory, who hated to dance as much as he hated the Reds.  Okay… but why?  “J. Edgar” is a bit of Oscar Bait that certainly has the look and feel of an important picture, but none of the substance.

It’s as if Eastwood was trying to play it safe with this one, as a character as rich as Hoover most definitely lived a more interesting life than the one depicted here.  Perhaps a director with more teeth was needed to give this film the bite it needed.  As it is, “J. Edgar” is toothless, flat, and just never nearly as captivating as it should be.  It’s certainly not terrible, or even bad, but it’s not good, either.  It’s a false start to the awards season, and most definitely worth skipping in theaters.  I wouldn’t even recommend renting it.  Honestly, this is one that can wait for cable.

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“It’s a Code Blue-Black!”

Swift Shot: If you have been dying to have the REAL Eddie Murphy back, this one is a good jump-start to hopefully more adult features in the near future.  He doesn’t talk to animals, marry a dragon, nor cavort with an ogre [although Shrek does make a cameo], Murphy isn’t throwing his weight around in a fat suit and he doesn’t drop one F-Bomb, but still he manages to steal every scene.  But, this was a film with a pretty impressive cast even without Murphy.  Save for a few terrible accents and not quite enough raunchiness for my liking, this film handled the curves like a ’63 Lusso at Riverview!

Tower Heist is a little bit Oceans Eleven meets Horrible Bosses – you have a revenge take-down heist caper in the works, but unlike Oceans Eleven, these are hardly the Usual Suspects you would want as accomplices.  In that way, it’s a lot like Horrible Bosses, where the average Joe gets stirred up enough to commit a felony, or two, or three, I lost count – see if any of my cop friends can tally the rap sheets.

Alan Alda plays the slimy Madoff-like Arthur Shaw, or is Shaw being setup by the Feds as a corporate fall-guy?  I don’t want to give anything away, but Shaw is simply in love with himself, considers himself the master of all things business and when the time for reckoning comes, he moves his pieces around enough to confuse the best white-collar agents.  Shaw’s slave is Josh Kovacs (Stiller), a building manager completely immersed in providing perfection to the tenants of his beloved Tower. A familiar phrase of the Tower employees, “We don’t accept tips at the Tower.”  As with Towering Inferno, the Tower develops into a de facto character of the film along with one other inorganic character that helps put wheels on the script.

Josh has come to believe that Shaw has embezzled from everyone, including some people he cares very much for, so he enlists the help of a few like-minded victims of Shaw and sets out to steal about twenty million dollars, no big whoop.  Thing is, while they all have motives, they lack any criminal skills, so Josh turns to the only real criminal he knows, Slide (Murphy).  All the buildup to this eventual, erratic, full throttle “interview” with Slide is necessary to tease the audience hoping for a more Axel Foley type Murphy.  I wasn’t disappointed.

The crew of criminals is cast by Matthew Broderick, Casey Affleck, Michael Pena, and eventually Gabourey Sidibe, and while they all bring a special element to the heist, some were better on screen than others.  I love freakin’ Matthew Broderick, but I kept thinking, why is he in this film, what is he really contributing?  Then, HIS scene happened and the audience was loving it!

With buddy films, a lot of character wash takes place, and no one really stands out.  Still, the chemistry was just good enough to chip away at my cynical shell and reveal some golden moments of comedy.  I particularly enjoyed the Snoopy factor and the gauntlet of lesbians.  Sorry, to get that reference you’ll have to see the film; I know most of you will eventually see it if you are pining for some old-school Mr. Robinson’s neighborhood humor.

I was impressed to see Brett Ratner directed this and Brian Grazer produced, two of my favorite film-makers, because I actually like pop-corn flicks, if I want a cerebral cinematic experience, I prefer that at home on Blu Ray where I don’t have to contend with the masses constantly pissing me off.  But, with this film, one poor bastage in the back row was laughing so uncontrollably that it sounded like a horse and a pig were makin’ bacon, which made all of us laugh even more.  So, Tower Heist had some solid laughs, albeit some poor timing by the less worthy cast-members.  If you are a film snob, you’ll catch the scenes that were just a little off.

I recommend checking out Tower Heist in theaters, it doesn’t have a lot of over-the-top action, but it does have some good cinematography that will be lost at home.  But, if you must wait til it hits stores, watch it with a friend who really loves Eddie Murphy!

(5 People gave this 3.20 out of 5)

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“Let’s just hope the Cooper Clan sticks with the First Amendment, and stays far, far away from the Second Amendment.”

The H-Bomb:  Jarod (Kyle Gallner), Travis (Michael Angarano), and Billy-Ray (Nicolas Braun) are three horny high-schoolers who get more than they bargained for when they show up at Sara’s (Melissa Leo) trailer for an Internet rendezvous.  What they imagined was going to be a wild and crazy night of three-on-one sex turns into a nightmare when they are taken captive by Abin Cooper (Michael Parks), a Fred Phelps-like preacher who shepherds a flock of gay hating Jesus freaks.  Cooper and his congregation used to pull the usual nonsense of protesting at funerals and whatnot, but they’ve been upping the ante as of late by stockpiling assault weapons and executing gays, as well as other perceived moral degenerates, during Cooper’s sermons.

This time, it’s the three teens who are going to be sacrificed on the Pastor’s altar for their deviant, “fornicatin’” ways.  But, without giving too much away, shit goes wrong…  very wrong.  Shots are fired, people are killed, and the ATF, led by John Goodman and Kevin Pollack, are called onto the scene.  The fit hits the shan and everything goes nucking futs when Cooper and his clan barricade themselves inside their walled-in compound, with children and hostages inside, and the feds move into position on the outside, resulting in a Waco-type standoff…  and that’s about as far as I’ll go, plot wise.

“Red State” is writer/director Kevin Smith’s balls out, no-holds-barred indie bounce back from his major studio flop “Cop Out” (a movie I didn’t hate as much as everyone else seemed to).  In a way, it’s almost as if the Jersey born director is apologizing for “Cop Out” by doing the exact opposite of everything he did on that film;  he wrote the script himself, raised the money himself, and even distributed it himself.  It’s most definitely not the kind of film we’ve ever seen from him before.  In fact, you’ll often have to remind yourself that you’re watching a Kevin Smith film, and even then, you’ll have a hard time believing it.

It’s only in the first twenty minutes or so that it even remotely feels like a Smith flick, with the foul mouthed teens talking about sex, sex, and…  more sex.  After that, it shifts into an intense, captive-tied-down type of torture porn, then shifts again into a stand off ‘n siege pic.  It’s not exactly a horror movie, per se, but like many horror flicks, it is dark, violent, and even oppressive, with a mean, pessimistic undercurrent running throughout.  It’s definitely not the kind of movie we would associate with this filmmaker… but he fuckin’ rocks it, nonetheless.

Simply put, “Red State” is, for the most part, fucking awesome.  This, to me, is Smith’s first film since “Dogma” where he really seems to have something on his mind and where he’s really giving it everything he’s got.  Like in “Dogma”, he’s once again saying that the only thing wrong with Christianity are the Christians, and it’s those who twist and pervert scripture to fit their own hateful beliefs who are once again the target of Smith’s satirical lashings.  But they’re not the only ones, as Smith also takes aim at the inept Government Agents and Bureaucrats, more interested in saving face than saving lives.  Even the victims, the kids who do all their thinking with the wrong head, are painted in a rather mocking light, and shown to be the shallow, chauvinistic dimwits that they are.  No one here is let off the hook.

With this movie, Smith shows that not only does he have a dark side, but that he can be funny in a deeper, more clever way, without resorting to his typical “dick ‘n fart” jokes.  The satire doesn’t always work, as there are some characters, like the closeted, bumbling local Sheriff, as well as the two cackling government suits towards the end, who come off as being a bit too cartoonish.  But for the most part, Smith’s lampooning is spot on, and it’s often as funny as it is frightening.

Tone and subject matter aside, “Red State” is also a major aesthetic departure for Smith, as it features a dirty, desaturated, hand-held look, something akin to “The Devil’s Rejects”, which this movie reminded me of in a number of ways, though things never quite get as intense as they did in Rob Zombie’s film.  As far as the acting is concerned, I would say there certainly aren’t any slouches in the lot, though there are two very notable standouts:  Melissa Leo and Michael Parks.

Leo, of course, won a much deserved Oscar for “The Fighter” this past year, and her turn here proves that she’s no one hit wonder.  She plays the easily led Christian zealot Sara with crazy eyed intensity and a cold blooded ferocity, all the while not falling into the trap of making her one note or a caricature.  She may be a complete moon-bat, but she’s also a dedicated family woman who loves her children and her church.  It would have been easy to go overboard into whacko-land with Sara, but Leo made her real instead, and added yet another knockout performance to her resume.

But it’s Parks who deserves the real accolades.  The guy’s always been a solid character actor, but what he gives here is easily a career defining performance.  Smith actually challenged people to name five actors who have given better performances this year.  Well, I’ve actually thought about it, and I can’t even come up with one.  Cooper is a certifiable nut-job of a Pastor, but Parks plays him as being calm, collected, and surprisingly charismatic.  When he goes off on one of his lengthy sermons, I can’t help but be captivated, even though everything he’s spouting is reprehensible, bigoted drivel.  This is a case where the actor maketh the movie, and Parks should win every award that Hollywood gives out this year.

Is there anything to bitch ‘n moan about, aside from the aforementioned cartoonish characters?  Well, I would say this “horror film” does sometimes fall into that horror film trap of having characters do stupid things simply because the plot needs them to; like when one of the captives gets his hands on an assault rifle, yet does not take everyone out, even though he very easily could.  But, this kind of flagrant dumb-assery happens infrequently enough that it can be forgiven.

When all is said and done, “Red State” is an “unlikely film from THAT Kevin Smith” that’s almost excellent.  I think that if the Tarantino/Rodriguez “Grindhouse” experiment had worked out as intended, and spawned an ongoing series, this would have been Smith’s contribution to it.  It doesn’t hurt that his wild script plays out in ways that are as unconventional as they are unpredictable (I defy anyone to guess how it all ends), making “Red State” a unique, curious little pic that not only broadens Smith’s abilities as a director, but also makes for what is easily his best film in over a decade.

(1 People gave this 3.00 out of 5)

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“This isn’t Casper!”

Swift Shot:  I guarantee you at least three screams.  Using that same, what I call, the “Where’s Waldo” effect, where you have to keep looking at seemingly mundane footage and trying to essentially figure out what, if anything, is off, missing, or wasn’t there before.  This was the scariest, and probably most interesting, of the films to date.  And, they left room for even more story-telling.  Somehow this stuff never gets old, and the creators manage to deliver more surprises!  Perhaps the biggest surprise was that Michael Landon’s kid, Christopher B. Landon wrote this thing – and that it was pretty terrifying!!

[Swift note, spoke to Aceman today and asked him if he had seen any of the films, "Yea, and at first I wasn't impressed, nor scared, but then, much later, it was with me, and I couldn't get it out of my head."  I told him, "Well, this one is scary AS you watch it AND it stays with you well after you see it."]

PA3 – as the cool kids are calling it – is set primarily in 1988, in September, where we see old VHS tapes of young Katie having a birthday then things start to go all Paranormal Activity!  Well, it isn’t quite that simple, things need time to develop.  Katie and Kristi are just little munchkins, living with their mother Julie and her boyfriend, Dennis, a struggling wedding videographer.

Julie and Dennis are likable characters, in fact, they reminded me a lot of Micah and Katie from the first Paranormal Activity – their dialogue was genuine, funny and helped the audience connect with them on several levels.  Plus, this was set in the 80′s, so if you are a fan of Family Guy, and few aren’t, you’ll love seeing some old “friends” and 80′s nostalgia nods on screen.  Heck, I want to see the film again just to see how many old toys I recognize.

Kristi is the younger kid, so she is still more apt to have a wild imagination, and she claims to have a friend, Toby that only she can see and hear.  It’s frustrating having this friend, because no one really believes he is real . . . or maybe no one wants to admit he is real.  Dennis is intrigued, and much like Micah, can’t leave well enough alone.  One night when he experiences an incredibly rude (you’ll see what I mean) earthquake, he notices something in reviewing the footage that he has to share with his co-worker and friend, Randy.

Even Randy thinks there is something to this that can’t be explained, and he encourages Dennis to try and record more strange phenomena.  Dennis, like a dumb-ass, does.  He manages to convince Julie to let him place some cameras around the house, and there we have the set-up we all expect with these films.  Because this was a videographer using his own equipment, at home, I was more immersed than the stilted, security camera footage from the previous film.  The second Paranormal Activity was good, but this was so much better!

Do you remember Gramma Lois?  No?  She is in this film, front and center, and while she liked Dennis, she reminds Julie that he has no real job or prospects and is just using her for her money.  It is never made clear what Julie does for a living, if anything, but Gramma Lois supports her daughter’s decision to stay with Dennis.

Using classic horror film elements, like the teeny-bopper babysitter, Lisa, who looked like she was Debbie Gibson’s biggest fan, this film even managed to be clever without being cheesy.  That’s hard to do.  Her scenes contain at least one of your “guaranteed screams”.  Then, Dennis’ friend Randy manages to pull out a classic Halloween game that you should really never toy around with.  In fact, if there are any lessons from the Paranormal Activity films, probably the best lesson is “Don’t meddle with things you don’t understand, nor know how to vanquish!”  Anyone who has ever had a paranormal encounter of their own probably already learned this lesson the hard way!  Randy certainly did!

[I just heard a noise in my closet, and I am fairly certain it wasn't Tom Cruise]

You’ll love this film like a roller-coaster, it will scare you, and at times you will laugh at yourself for being scared, but ultimately . . . scared is what you will be, particularly if you have a keen imagination.

Finally, when the credits roll, you’ll wonder just whom, or what, was watching this footage.  If you paid attention, the answer is eerily obvious.  If you are a fan of the other two films, you needn’t hear from me that you will like this one as well, it delivers to its fan base . . . and then some!  In fact, some people that I knew didn’t care for the other two actually said this one was the best of the three.  I only hope they have at least one, or two, more films to release.  I will be there, assuming I heed the film’s warnings and steer clear of the “intriguing”.  Where did I put that tripod?

(1 People gave this 3.00 out of 5)

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Funny thing about trust . . . it melts in the presence of real terror.

Swift shot:  Terror is back!  Everything you ever wanted in a sci-fi horror flick . . . plus Norwegians! Fear and paranoia grips everyone; you’ll be guessing who “The Thing” is the whole film!  There are some grandiose shots, excellent special effects, but nothing is so over the top that it dwarfs the sequel’s efforts.  (The sequel shot in 1982)

Set in the early 80′s, like John Carpenter’s classic, this new film serves as a direct, seamless prequel to that incredibly fascinating, yet disturbing, feature. Based on a pulp novella written in 1938 by John W. Campbell, Jr., “Who Goes There” has now inspired three films.  I must confess, I have yet to see the 1951 film “The Thing From Another World” – which focused more on the Cold War according to my production notes.

Believe it or not, for many complicated reasons, I had never seen John Carpenter’s “The Thing” until this year!  Some film lover, right?  But, I am glad I waited, because I was primed for the prequel and intrigued with how a Dutch commercial director, Matthijs van Heijningen, was going to take a film set in the 80′s, release it in 2011, and make it all make sense without creating special effects that would be considered over the top by 1982′s standards.

The plot is basic, but the story is not.  Plot – alien crashes on Earth and chills out for a few hundred thousand years, wakes up with a mean hangover and an ability to mimic foes.  The story though is about the characters slowly, or rapidly in some instances, devolving into creatures of fear themselves.  Abject paranoia ultimately leads to carnage and lots of crispy critters.

Mary Elizabeth Winstead (Scott Pilgrim vs. The World) led the cast with a startling performance as Kate Lloyd, a paleontologist who is offered the adventure of several lifetimes.  Initially, she is told only that she needs to make up her mind immediately and that the assignment is in Antarctica. Her invitation comes from one snarky, pompous Dr. Sander Halvorson who is played perfectly by Ulrich Thomsen, as you want to punch him square in the face several times throughout the film.  That’s all you need out of an actor, make the audience either love, loathe, or otherwise believe they are their character.  To whit, Thomsen deserves my respect – because I hated the man!

With a lot of these horror films, you get the typical walking cord-wood characters, lacking depth, little exposition and really only around so the leads don’t “get it” too early.  That is probably my only real fault with the film, many of the characters were exactly as I just described, pointless bags of flesh just waiting to die and/or become the Thing.  Still, some of them had more personality than others.  I’m no great fan of Eric Christian Olsen, but he was decent as the facilitator to put Kate in the story, after that not much is ever revealed about him.

With all these Norwegians running around you might think this film was subtitled throughout – yes, and no.  I really liked the clever use of Norwegian when it was convenient to hold secret council in front of other non-Norsk characters.  It was well deployed without being over used and gave more of that “trust no one” sense in those scenes. To make sure the whole film wasn’t just a bunch of drunk Norwegians running around starting fires, there were two American pilots in the camp.  Braxton Carter, played by Australian actor Joel (Owen Lars, anyone?) Edgerton [currently starring in "Warrior"] and Jameson played by Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje (Lost, Oz) who serves as Carter’s co-pilot.

The camp is headed by a turtle-neck clad Edvard Wolner, played by Norwegian actor Trond Espen Seim.  Odds are you haven’t seen him in anything, mindre du er Norsk?  Yea, I didn’t think so.

Everyone is afraid of something, maybe this Thing will keep you up at night . . . I know it would if I lived in Antarctica, for sure!  The effects are terrifying, on the same scale of purely horrifying creature sequences from Carpenter’s work.  You will not be disappointed; nothing looks overtly CGI, and the scenes where the Thing is pursuing its victims might just have your butt puckering ever so slightly.  Case in point, some deficient assbag in front of me (wearing a NY Jets hat, no less) kept talking out loud to his friend when shit started getting just a little too intense . . . pussy.  He was trying to remove himself from the film, I mean, need I say anymore?  A film that demands you separate from it so you don’t get too damaged . . . that’s a solid film!

Like all the other Things out there, this film focuses on paranoia – I read a quote from producer Eric Newman that I wanted to share here, “More than ever, we live in a time where if there is an enemy, it’s very likely that the enemy’s not someone you would suspect. The bad guys don’t wear uniforms anymore.”  This is the purest message about paranoia vs. trust and while the Cold War may be over, we are in a new war . . . a war on Terror, so fitting that “The Thing” is a metaphor for the old adage, trust no one and carry a large flame-thrower!

“The Thing” is definitely not for everyone, it’s scary, because . . . shit, it could be true, you don’t know!  How many of you have explored every square inch of our planet and aren’t we learning about new undiscovered species on a daily basis . . . still, in 2011?  I think what I overheard while leaving the theater sums it up beautifully, when a woman, probably in her mid-seventies, turned to her husband, “We need a flame-thrower now!”  This film is best viewed in theaters, because the effects and professional attention to detail simply demand it!

— Like “The Thing”? Then you’ll love the range of horror films on offer at LOVEFiLM, one of Europe’s largest DVD & video on demand services with over 70,000 titles and counting and plenty of free movies online without downloading.

(1 People gave this 5.00 out of 5)

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“The people’s champion… sounds good to me.”

The H-Bomb: No, your eyes are not deceiving you. No, that four star rating is not a typo. No, H-Man is not off his meds. I know what you’re thinking, that the story of “Real Steel” sounds an awful lot like “Rocky” remade by Michael Bay (ewwww… shudder), and that the only result that could ever come of that is pure, unadulterated cinematic retardation. Believe me, I was thinking that very same thing beforehand, and normally I would’ve been one hundred percent right. But on this occasion, I was one hundred percent wrong.

Set sometime in the not-too-distant future, “Real Steel” (adapted from a Richard Matheson story) tells the tale of ex-boxer Charlie Kenton (Hugh Jackman), who was forced into retirement when human boxing fell out of popularity long ago, and now gets by going around boxing robots. Basically, the way this works is he controls his robot like a video game while taking on another robot being controlled by someone else. Like in real boxing, there are sanctioned league fights, underground fights, and championships. But, no matter who’s running the fight, they usually end with one robot or the other being destroyed. Whether all this could be construed as a step forward or backwards in human evolution depends on who you ask.

But anyway, after Charlie’s last couple of robots have been smashed into junk, he finds himself down and out, in need of cash and a new bot. This is where fate smiles on Charlie, as ex-girlfriend, with whom he had an eleven year old son, Max (Dakota Goyo), has just died. Max’s wealthy aunt (Hope Davis), wants to adopt him, which Charlie has no problem with, since he was never part of the kid’s life, anyway. However, she’ll be in Italy for the summer, and so her husband offers Charlie $100,000 to look after Max until the end of August.

At first Charlie and Max butt heads and want nothing to do with each other, but then one night while they’re in a junk yard looking for robot parts, Max finds an old, long discarded robot named “Atom.” Atom, as Charlie explains, is a sparring robot, not designed for actual competition. But Max, being the headstrong youth that he is, disagrees, and sets about training (programming) the dinged up old bot to fight.

And what do you know, Charlie and Max actually start winning fights, with the puny old robot that wasn’t even designed to fight competitively. Word about them starts to spread, all the way to Farra Lemkova (Olga Fonda), a Russian Kim Kardashian who owns the world champion robot fighter, “Zeus,” designed by some scary looking ninja assassin dude (Karl Yune). Lemkova arrogantly offers to buy Atom off Charlie and Max, but Max throws it back in her face by challenging the mighty Zeus to a fight.

Naturally, this is just a joke to Camp Zeus, but after the public’s reaction to the challenge, they’re left with no choice but to accept. Will Charlie and Max be able to get their little-robot-that-could ready to take down the big, bad champion, and, of course more importantly, will they stop kicking each other in the balls and actually bond as father and son over the course of this long journey? What do you think?

“Real Steel” is a much, much better film than it should be. I went into this thing thinking it was going to be stupid as hell, like “BattleBots: The Movie”, and came out of it completely dumbfounded by how caught up I was in it. Strip away the high tech robots and whatnot, and what we have here is basically a good old fashioned, feel good, underdog sports movie. It’s a familiar formula, but it’s one that worked in the past, and I’ll be damned, it worked here, too.

Even though this flick is filled to the brim with slick special effects and metal mashing, robotic beat downs, that’s not what makes it so good. Rather, and hold on to your seat, because this is a shocker, it’s the well developed, likable lead characters and their chemistry together that maketh the movie. Jackman and Goyo are right on, spot on, dead perfect as the mismatched father and son team, and their performances couldn’t be better.

Goyo, as the piss ‘n vinegar filled Max, is a real find, and you won’t be able to help but smile during the scenes when he and his robot dance into the ring. Jackman’s Charlie is a real douche-baggy prick at first, but he redeems himself as his relationship with Max grows. It’s ultimately their journey and their bonding that makes up the back bone of this film, and that makes it so emotionally satisfying. The terrific sense of humor that it retains throughout helps, as well. Charlie’s big toothed redneck tormentor, Ricky (Kevin Durand), provided some real laugh out loud moments.

“Real Steel”, despite its moronic sounding premise, is in actuality a genuine, straightforward crowd pleaser. Yeah, you’re not going to be very surprised by it, but when a formula is done this well, it don’t matter. You’ll be reeled in by it in spite of yourself. I feel guilty saying this, but it’s actually one of the better movies to come out this year, and definitely one to catch on the big screen.

(1 People gave this 5.00 out of 5)

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Sweet dreams are made of Zzzzzzzz…

The H-Bomb: So this is a dream house, huh? It must have been one dull ass dream. But how did it go wrong? This film, which I’m guessing was supposed to be a thriller, certainly had a dream team on both sides of the camera. A first rate director in Jim Sheridan (“My Left Foot”, “In America”), and a first rate cast in Daniel Craig, Rachel Weisz, and Naomi Watts. Sadly, instead of being a clever, well crafted spookfest with A-List talent, “Dream House” is merely a very well polished turd, one in which the audience will not be trying to untangle the over-tangled mystery, but will instead be wondering how it all ended up being such a thrilless and chilless bore?

Well, before I go into what went wrong, let me briefly take you through the set up: Book editor Will Atenton (Craig, sporting a laughably dorky haircut) is quitting his high paying job in NYC and relocating to a small town to write a novel, and spend more time with his all-to-perfect wife, Libby (Weisz), and their all-too-perfect daughters. The house they move into is a definite fixer-upper, but everyone’s happy… that is, until the girls start seeing a strange man out their window, and start hearing things go bump and creak in the night.

One snowy evening, such unnatural sounds lure Will into the basement, where he catches a pack of emo brats messing around with dolls and spray painting things on the walls. Will grabs one as they attempt to run, and she tells him about the man who used to own the house, Peter Ward, and how he murdered his wife and two daughters some five years earlier. When Will goes around town asking about the murders, he notices people giving him the stink eye. In particular, his neighbor across the street, divorcee Ann (Watts), seems to know more about the murders than she lets on. As Will tracks down this Peter Ward, who was recently released from the local laughing factory, he discovers something that… well, I should stop there.

To divulge any more at this point would be to drop some major spoilers, not that it would really matter, since the fucking trailer spoiled at least one major twist anyway (seriously, which intellectually challenged Marketing intern cut the trailer to this thing– I want his fuckin’ name!). Not that it really matters that much, since I highly doubt that not knowing this plot development would have enhanced my enjoyment of this hopelessly dreary affair.

Which brings me back to my original query, despite the Oscar Caliber Pedigree involved, where the hell did this lead footed, boring-er-than-thou “thriller” go wrong? Well, to me the answer is pretty obvious; this “Dream House” simply lacked the foundation it needed to stay standing. To put it more simply, it lacked a good script. When it isn’t just running through the list of supernatural thriller clichés, it’s just hokey, unbelievable, and kind of stupid (the scene in which a character’s name is explained is one of the dumbest, most unintentionally funny moments I’ve seen in any movie). After the key twist, the one the trailer brilliantly gives away, is revealed halfway through, the story just becomes illogical, repetitive, until it finally culminates in a climax that’s as rushed and tacked on as it is preposterous.

I feel bad for this cast, because they try, they really do. But when you give them nothing to work with, how can you expect anything more than nothing in return? I like Daniel Craig, and I really want him to have a bonafide hit outside of Bond, but for him, this is a Double-O Zero. I still have hopes for “The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo”. Weisz does her best with a role that basically required her to alternate between looking happy, looking concerned, and looking scared. She’s done better.

Watts, who looks like she’s had one facelift too many, has even less to do than Weitz, in what has to be her most thankless role since “Children of the Corn IV”. The great Canadian actor Elias Koteas is also in here, but God knows why, because he’s wasted completely in an important but severely underdeveloped role.

Plainly put, “Dream House” is a stinker. When it’s not going the “been there, done that, seen that, bored with that” route, it’s just making no fucking sense at all. The last time I sat through a suspense flick this lifeless was around this time last year with “My Soul to Take“, and while it didn’t quite plummet to the same level of suckage as that Godforsaken piece of shit, it comes shockingly close. Overall, “Dream House” is one sorry excuse for a scary movie, and one lame way to kick off the Halloween season.