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Season 1 was decent and gave me the interest to follow into Season 2. I stuck with it through the bitter end and am sad I did. Not up to the cast or David Kelly's reputation. Not sure that Thornton got a copy of the script before shooting.

I am sincerely grateful for the 2/3rds of the major critics who panned Woody Allen's new film "Scoop." Rather than all of those marginal Woody Allen Fans drawn to the theatre on a scorching Sunday afternoon, most of the audience were either those serious about his films and those serious about beating the heat. The former were suitably respectful and the latter didn't snore too loud. Woody can still deliver a joke -but does anyone know the dirty joke about a man, his wife and a French Horn? Scarlett Johanssen is moving through her muse-ical comedy period with the Wood-man and this must have been an opportunity too good to miss. Hugh Jackman plays the classic British upper crusty leading man who is too good to be true and you can guess the rest. Ian McShane was cast for his devilish good looks and ended up looking like an unintended lost soul. You will find a great supporting cast, the kind that would forgo their customary rates for the Allen stipend. So go,relax and enjoy the comic delivery. Woody won't live forever.

We saw Fahrenheit 9/11 with a clearly partisan crowd. The reluctant Marine was applauded when he explained his refusal to return to Iraq if ordered. The closing line following Bush's bumbling the 'fool me once...twice...' was lost in applause and laughter. (if anyone can shoot me that Moore's retort, I would be forever grateful). And there was a clear absence of the usual crowd of those who think that they're sitting in their living rooms in dialogue with the characters on the screen. It was Saturday afternoon, after the opening day and there wasn't an empty seat in the house. Even with the blockbusters, that seldom happens.

If Kerry winds up in the White House will he have a friend in Michael Moore? Not really because the same invective used so effectively against the Bush administration can easily be turned against another rich white guy with family ties.

What impact have Moore's films had? He has been preaching to the choir forever. Will this be the one? Let's hope.

He makes strong arguments without the shackles of objectivity. Reviewers are urging all persuasions to see it. But will they? I doubt it.

Cynical me? Nah!

News flash: Young healthy man diets on nothing but McDonald for a month and gains weight. In his attempt to eat everything on the menu for this target period he also develops liver problems, feels depressed and begins to smell like the cow he's consuming. He also takes the bait when asked if he would like his meal super sized. Who can resist?

Morgan Spurlock, director and guinea pig – and I do mean pig - has a vibrant delivery and witty style without the annoying Michael Moore-trademark dogged pursuit of his prey. You look forward to his next visit to any of a number of McDonalds across the country and the graphic inclusion of the top twenty fattest cities in America. Interspersed with his McMeals are consultations with his lithe dietitian, mesomorphic GP and his grim cardiologist. Their genuine concern over what he's doing to himself is touching.

Looking around the theater, I saw none of the persons of size, to whom this documentary may be directed. And few were munching buttered popcorn. He was clearly preaching to the choir.

Spurlock is clearly exaggerating to make a point but isn't that the way we reach the audience?

You or your loved one may be spending too much time in the fast food meal line. Spurlock feels that any time at all is hazardous to your health. The warning should be clear to all willing to heed it: When this fast foodery says it can do it all for you, believe they can if you let them. They can take you from cradle to grave faster than you may want.

Bon Appetit!

Twilight Samurai

'Twilight Samurai' is a very sweet film. Sorry, those words, sweet and samurai, may not be used together too much but believe it! With luck, 'The Last Samurai' was just that for Hollywood but please Jollywood bring on more of these.

'Tasogare Seibei' is a story about a low-level Samurai family headed by a widower raising two daughters and his mother who's lapsing into senility. What little action in this film shows how far Seibei (Hiroyuki Sanada) has drifted from his professional prowess. He earns his keep as a scribe and an insect trap maker. When he is called on to defend the honor of his clan, his skill is resurrected although his heart is not in it.

Beautifully filmed and dramatically staged, 'Twilight Samurai' will amuse, dazzle and delight you. Told from the perspective of his daughter reflecting on her life with father, this sentimental tale has the feel of allegory and even novices to this genre will enjoy it. My only criticism is the abrupt ending without a clear resolution. And my lack of Japanese language skills distracted me from this well-acted, set and costumed film.

Just another reason to learn the language.

Clocking in at two hours, fifty-five minutes - less ten if you pass on the final credits- 'Troy' has thrice your daily dose of testosterone, while offering a chance to redeem those tuition dollars you invested in your liberal education. If Achilles took my tagline advice, he may have survived to pillage and plunder. And no, it has nothing to do with ankle armor.

'Troy' has a good balance of action and plot development with special effects that don't rely on a darkening screen. The scope of the Iliad calls for lavish treatment, larger than life performers, spectacular effects and a cast of ...well who can really tell? With the revelations of those (Star-Wars) special-effects geeks that portrayed the cheering throng as really a bunch of multi-colored Q-Tips, who can really believe our eyes anymore. The casting of Troy was epic alone, with many of the major and most of the minor talent of the Anglo-Saxon stage and screen. You couldn't throw a spear without hitting one.

If 'Troy' sparks an interest in 20% of the audience to review some of those dusty classics and discover a world ignored by most of our 'literate' Americans, I say, Eugepae! Even if you came just to see Troyboy Brad Pitt and walked away with a curiosity for the bigger picture like 'you mean those early Romans were known for more than prophylactics?' or 'Achilles wasn't such a heel after all,' it has achieved some good.

My memory of classical literature has dispersed to the extent that my recall of pertinent detail was as hopeless as the Trojan cause. So rather than struggling with it, I let it flow and hoped to pick up shreds later as I did with the aid of the internet - NPR and Google - making it more worthwhile when it's put in context. Like Odysseus (Sean Bean) who's deference to Achilles' penchant for war for his own talent for treachery, sets up a unique opportunity for a sequel with his name on it. For a hint to a potential conclusion to this trilogy, pay attention to Paris' hand off near the end to a young Aeneas.

Veni, Vidi, Amavi!

One of my lame excuses for never being able to figure out my daughter's behavior goes something like, '...but then I never was a 14-year old girl.' "Mean Girls" may be a strong testament to my good fortune. Mean boys are out there for sure, but I'd rather give up my lunch money for one day than my rep forever.

Lindsey Lohan (now isn't she really 13 going on 30?) doesn't play a believable South African, but who can deny her appeal as the fresh-faced home-schooled innocent. Though the story had the scope of a popular TV dromedy, Tina Fey's writing added a Saturday-Night-Lives episode worth of humor that might get you sneaking a peek at your watch after about 35 minutes. Tim Meadows may have given his career a jump start with his droll delivery of some very funny lines, but I wanted Ana Gasteyer to head back to the bush and send Neil Flynn (Scrubs) back to the janitor's closet.

Mean Girls deserves a glance if you've exhausted your other entertainment options. It may give you a better perspective on your high school angst, insight into the mean women you run across at the mall, or a peek at high school lunch room politics, but it really resolves little. Except that Lindsay Lohan's name on a film will get you to see just about anything.

Spoofing another disaster, "The Day After Tomorrow" takes on an administration run by a balding, slightly overweight vice-president with the look of chronic indigestion. Dismissing the dire prediction of a paleo-climatologist, this dyspeptic veep proceeds to ignore another global disaster. Meanwhile, nature has an even more ambitious plan, proving our favorite paleo-weatherman more wrong. But most wrong was the guy who told me, 'ya gotta see this one on the big screen.' Not!

Director Roland Emmerich takes a Big Apple he destroyed in Godzilla, freeze dries it (in a New York minute no less) and sends its residents south putting an ironic twist to the US-Mexican border problem. Randy Quaid plays super dad to amend his paleo-fatherly shortcomings while son (Jake Gyllenhaal) rescues a motley assortment of New Yorkers ... but that's redundant. Mom (Sela Ward) saves a crew of critically ill patients in hometown DC and girlfriend (Laura Chapman) saves an African immigrant family from drowning in a cab. You know you have to watch out for those New York cabs.

Should I have warned you about these SPOILERS? Nah, remember its all freeze dried so it won't spoil and besides YOU should save your money and watch for 'The Making of TDAT' since the special effects are all that's worthwhile here.

For the rest of you, my advice is (not necessarily in this order) to turn down the lights, crank up the surround, wait for the DVD, sit up close and avoid the idiots sitting behind you who bring their two-year-old and share their comments aloud. Thank-you to those theaters that actually remind their patrons to save it for the post-show bistro. I've got to find one near me... soon

So when deciding on a film for the evening, take the advice on the marquee. Go see it the day after tomorrow. And when you come back, read the marquee again. You'll be glad you did.

Certain traditions bring comfort, joy and contentment, but when we really think about them, questions and perhaps guilt emerges. Is Thanksgiving really an anniversary of a slaughter of our Native Americans, Christmas a co-opped pagan holiday ritual, and Columbus Day a shameful remembrance of this stolen continent?

Takes away from the joy of the holiday, no?

Picking apart a James Bond film has the same feel. Expect a seduced beauty or two, exciting special effects, bad guys who get theirs and a 007 who triumphs in the end. Much like carols at Christmas, fireworks at the fourth of July or decorated eggs on Easter, Bond films perpetuate a tradition.

Unless it's a real turkey, each one adds to the tradition that is anticipated and perhaps necessary.

This new episode adds a new stealthy toy, integrates contemporary global politics and engages us right from the start with the climax of an undisclosed earlier episode. It doesn't do a bad job of unveiling the latest techno-toys, but if you expect more you will be disappointed. Although it perpetuates Anglo-ascendancy, it also opens the door to a more multi-cultural set of secret agents. But that's more than you need to know.

His name is Bond, James Bond. He'll flirt with Moneypenny, kibbutz with Q and encounter foes who are incredibly bad shots. But will he bring the car in one piece?

There's always a first time.

Mesmerizing... hypnotic... spellbinding. And I awoke after each episode wanting more... sleep!

Though I am not a Potter fan, I enjoy a good story. Not having read Ms. Rowling's tales, I felt the need for a synopsis or perhaps subtitles. Though the theater was filled with kids, I should have brought one of my own to make this experience meaningful. My son refuses to go for fear of spoiling his image of the books. A good strong cappuccino may have helped but a more engaging script would make that unnecessary. Sophomore syndrome? Perhaps. Or a DVD version that I could rewind after each snooze and employ subtitles.

Memorable scenes? There are a few, like Harry's right arm going flaccid (if you haven't yet seen it, it's not because of that!), the attack of the spiders in which they used a traditional special effect (darkness) and Dobby, a technically captivating elf whose episodes of self-flagellation are overdone.

I'm not wild about Harry as you can tell. They haven't picked up on my "lack of diversity" criticism from the 'Sorcerer's Stone' - unless I slept through those segments. My favorite character returned - the wizard hat - though his lines were severely cropped.

Don't get the impression that I am trying to discourage you from seeing this Harry Potter film. Just do so under the correct conditions. For me, that would be with a kid, before noon, accompanied by a caffeinated beverage, subtitles and a chamber pot. It's nearly 3 hours long!

Not the Lord of the Ring or the Beethoven classic but actually more like the one around the rosie, but I'm getting way ahead of the story. This well-conceived and -executed film is worth a bowl of popcorn on a stormy night which gives away my sentiment that "The Ring" would be more effective as a video than a feature film. The "killer VCR" theme demands it.

Terrifying death has been visited on several teens who dare to view an avant-garde tape of mysterious origins. The deaths are sudden and mysterious to pique the interest of a local tabloid journalist (Naomi Watts) who happens to be the aunt of one of the "scared-to-deaths." This explains her initial curiosity but the clues are sufficient to elicit a dogged pursuit of the story.

This is a scary story that engages the audience as you see the clues and the race against the curse that promises to kill our fair investigative journalist before she solves it. And if the screams of the teens in the theater are any gauge, it is effective.

"The Ring" may have had the makings of a cult thriller, but its commercial success has already ruined that status. The premise is suited to an indie whose notoriety is developed by word-of-mouth and slipped to the next viewer who is cautioned to watch it at his/her own risk. But that would screw up all those royalties.

So don't feel bad if you miss this as a first-run flick. "The Ring" will improve with age.

Once in a while, a film takes a time to sink in. My immediate reaction - "What the hell was that?" - matures into a "Oh, that's what it meant," and like some experiences, distance gives me a perspective as it comes together in the unconscious. Well, I have waited and read the reviews declaring "The Man Without a Past" a masterpiece, and reflected; and. uninspired sums it up for me.

Is this an allegory? A fable? Perhaps but I don't really care. And that's my problem with this film - I just didn't care about the characters.

Unburdened by expectations or responsibilities, M has the past was beaten out of him. He winds up escaping the hospital and taken in by the squatters living on the outskirts of Helsinki. Life is bleak among the downtrodden in Helsinki. Here we have a man who was born again back from the dead examining his options. Our hero was a welder in his former existence. Ironic, Robin Williams' dad's advice to the manic comedian turned film actor is relevant here. When he told his dad that he wanted to study acting, dad advised, "Learn welding just in case.'

Good that M was a welder. This is one of those `just in case' situations.

I can sympathize with the hero of this film. Amnesia is a mixed blessing; the benign disability that actually enables the victim to escape and begin to heal.

If only...

"The Man from Elysian Fields" is a writer's film filled with sensuality, failure, loss, hope, infidelity, intrigue and deception with a touch of film noir. Byron Tiller (Andy Garcia) plays the starving artist with an early success that brought neither fortune nor lasting notoriety who is ready to compromise his ideals for grocery money. Luther Fox (Mick Jagger) has set up a deceptively unobtrusive escort service across the hall. Luther draws Byron into a discussion about life and winds up with a recruit for his high-class service. But writers need broad experience and this opportunity is too tempting for Tilly to pass up. He's entirely too reluctant which makes him ripe for the picking.

And he's just the candidate for the wife of a prominent author. This multiple Pulitzer Prize winning novelist, Tobias Alcott played by James Coburn, is losing his muse and his health, but his powers of deception are as sharp as ever. His wife, played by the icy Olivia Williams, draws Tilly into the family with several offers he can't refuse. Andy Garcia nails the struggling writer's persona begging our sympathy while he spirals down the hierarchy of alternatives to keep the wolf from the door. Mick Jagger is perfect for the part of the Faustian lizard who's tiring of the game he's mastered. The role of the escort, his office facade and ultimately his own personal relationship crumbles under the weight of deception.

Tilly is seduced by the temptations of a shrewd couple (the Alcott's) whose too-good-to-be-true offer leaves him with a great story and perhaps a Pulitzer of his own. But he's got to write it. There's always a catch.

The Hollywood ending, so clearly the decision of a focus group isn't a worthy conclusion to this story. This is another film with talented actors, superior cinematography and an intriguing story but lacking direction. Recent films like "Posession" come to mind. The product is compromised when the director lacks the courage to bring the film to a meaningful - in this case a disturbing - conclusion rather than one that's "satisfying," Tilly's editor spoke to this issue when he rejected his second novel saying that the reader doesn't want to think microcosm when she's sitting on the bus... In trying to please the mainstream, reach a wider audience and improve the box office, we lose opportunities to excel.

So what else is new in Hollywood?

`It's not an Adam Sandler movie. It's a movie with Adam Sandler.' You may have heard this encouragement when you balked at going to see "Punch-Drunk Love." So if you're a Sandler fan, go see "Jackass" cause the director of "Boogie Nights' and "Magnolia" is going for a hat trick, sans the simulated sex, seediness and raining frogs. That's the good news.

In Chicago, there's a jinx on any World Series contender called the ex-Cub Factor. Like other well-known correlations - such as the Super Bowl/ stock market - this one damns the team with the most ex-Cubs on board. The similarly formulated Sandler Factor can bring a whole film down with him. That's the bad news.

Emily Watson might have saved this quirky comedy but she didn't. Philip Seymour Hoffman, a regular in Anderson films, understands his role and delivers but can't save it from a supporting position. Paul Thomas Anderson (the director) was moving towards the mastery of his craft but he took a break.

"Punch-Drunk Love" is not worth the effort to review, or your time to view. Adam Sandler has a long way to go to become a legitimate actor. But that's not going to stop him from getting rich.

Life isn't fair.

You know how it is when a former lover returns home a famous performer and you, a feckless homey, try to pick up where you left off. You do? Because I don't.

Here we have a lovable loser who thinks self-determinism has more to do with evolutionary theory than mature adult behavior. He's beginning to come to terms with his condition - "You know what happens when you walk away from something that should have been? Nothing!" - but not ready to make the leap and take control. And for an encore, where does our hero with a failed marriage find happiness? He doesn't know either. But he's trying.

This one features witty writing and likeable characters. One thing is certain: when you're the writer you can give yourself all of the good lines and can write yourself a happy ending. But they still may toss tomatoes after your performance.

This ambitious indie was re-released on the coattails of "My Big Fat Greek Wedding" to capitalize on the success of another. I'd like to see this hopeful film reach its niche audience if only to help some starving artists who are also my former neighbors.

Shameless promotion.

Someday a Hollywood filmography will be incomplete without having - or being - a meal with Hannibal Lecter. While watching this latest episode I am struck by the list of accomplished actors who have passed through. It may soon be as popular as appearing in a Woody Allen movie, if not as appetizing.

Anthony Hopkins reprises his role as the creepy connoisseur of gustatory gore and continues to scare us silly. Ed Norton plays the super sleuth Will Graham who brings down Lecter after a skillful sleight of hand making the good doctor both the hunter and the hunted. Norton portrays a master of investigative powers who is recalled from retirement to solve another series of murders baffling the FBI. And much to his dismay, it begins to get personal. Norton's acting skills are superb but the nasal quality of his voice detracts from his impact.

Ralph Fiennes plays the latest monster - or rather "a man with a monster on his back" - Francis Dolarhyde aka Red Dragon a serial murderer that survived his abusive mother without a well-developed sense of self-worth. Fiennes never seems to get into his role or perhaps that's his interpretation of this psychopath. Harvey Keitel brings his rough-cut authority to represent the FBI mainstream. Emily Watson portrays a vulnerable woman, handicapped by blindness who's attracted to Dolarhyde and her fate is predictable.

The story intrigues as it moves through the investigation of brutal crime, the victims and the perpetrators. When Graham recruits the good doctor to help solve the mystery, Lecter lends both his criminal mind and his analytical acumen from his solitary confinement to force his former adversary to stretch his powers while mentoring Red Dragon. With nothing to lose and the lure of a challenge, Hannibal uses this opportunity to get back in the game.

I missed chapter 2 ("Hannibal") deliberately and never caught "Manhunt" so my perspective only includes "Silence of Lambs" which broke new ground in characterization and plot. "Red Dragon" gives us our moneys worth without gratuitous gore. It's suspenseful, generally well acted and keeps our interest without leaving that sour aftertaste.

'Igby Goes Down' is loaded with characters without much to recommend them. Not that anyone needs to be perpetually perky, but the only sarcastic gesture missing from "Igby Goes Down" is the long-cadenced applause accompanied by the look of ennui. This is where the audience comes in.

Igby (Kieran Culkin) is about to make the leap from adolescence to the real world and since there's no evidence that he's ever even visited, there's no reason to expect a bright future. No, not another ‘coming of age' serio-comic teen angst ridden screenplay! At least there's worthwhile talent to entertain us along the way.

Igby has a cast of veterans we've enjoyed in other films. Susan Sarandon and Jeff Goldblum deserve each other though we see little of them on-screen together. Haven't we seen enough of Ms. Sarandon lately? She is more likely to die of overexposure than of anything scripted in "Moonlight Mile," "The Banger Sisters " or "Igby." Claire Danes plays `a vegetarian for purely moral reasons' who is partial to ice cream sundaes, though there's no evidence that she wears them. As a Bennington student taking a semester off, she has perfected an innocent/impatient air that is wonderful to watch.

Jeff Goldblum portrays a one-dimensional capitalist with such panache that he becomes a pitiable. And then there's Igby, a young man who hasn't met a prep school he didn't dislike. We all know that a traditional education isn't for everyone and there are alternatives to consider but Mimi (Sarandon) was so intent on sending Igby to an eastern prep school that she was willing to sacrifice all to complete her mission... or die trying.

Here are characters that deserved our disdain more than our sympathy, yet they are likeable. Igby is a spoiled conniver and pathological liar. His brother Oliver (Ryan Phillipe) is an aloof twit who lacks the decency to mentor a younger brother in need. Sarandon is a bitchy manipulator who has it her way then makes you feel bad about it. These characters are real; believable people like those we know, associate and (yikes) love. Rather than love or hate "Igby," perhaps we can identify with it. And that's kind of sad.

Gwyneth Paltrow has been trying to make amends for her appearance in "Shallow Hal" and what better way to do that than a literary mystery? Since I am no heavyweight in the fields of poetry or literature - and they have been weighing in suggesting a similar lack of depth in both films - don't look for insightful analysis in these comments. These are merely my own musings.

In the story of "Possession," we meet Randolph Henry Ash (Jeremy Northam) who is a celebrated 19th century poet and heralded misogynist. His relation with his wife, though loving, lacks physical satisfaction. He meets the celebrated poet Christabel LaMotte (Jennifer Ehle) in whom he finds his Muse and love interest. Ash's overtures are rebuffed initially resulting in - what else - more passionate poetry. Well, at least he has found his Muse.

Leap ahead to the 21st century where Roland Michell (Aaron Eckhart), an American grad student in Britain uncovers some long-hidden drafts of letters written by Ash to an unnamed interest. Clues to this puzzle are found in the romantic verse of these tragic lovers, as more correspondence is uncovered. Searching for clues, Alec meets Maud Bailey (Gwyneth Paltrow) who's an expert in 19th century feminist poets. Maud seems the acerbic scholar but is gradually seduced by the clues to the real life of Christabel and her tryst. And let's not forget the charms of her fellow sleuth Roland.

The two 19th-century poets and two 21st century literary sleuths engage each other in post-Victorian and post-modern mating rituals as the latter pair are drawn into the intriguing tale assembled from century-old letters and diaries. Rather than life imitating art, it imitates artistes as Maud and Roland are drawn closer in the mystery as well as the drama.

An interesting aspect of studying history is graphically illustrated in this film. You may think you have got a complete understanding of a character through the writing by and about them, or a time through archeological records, when suddenly a hurricane knocks down a stand of trees and reveals a whole new piece of antiquity that changes everything you thought you knew.

The story of this film is a sensual amalgam of verse, intrigue, and professional sleight of hand told with a backdrop of quaint modern Britain and lush Victorian melodrama. This is neither great literature nor great filmmaking but rather an interesting tale for an evenings relaxation. The "no sex, we're British" rule is seldom violated. You can decide whether that's a good thing.

We're accustomed to Robin Williams playing quirky characters. From the unscripted Mork to the unconventional Patch Adams, we have learned to cut him slack in taking roles to enhance his range rather than his image. This one is a stark contrast to his recent touring performances and HBO special, and perhaps it's his way of achieving balance.

We see a remarkable portrayal of Seymour (Sy) Parrish, a lonely guy getting his life experiences by vicarious means and an extra copy of selected prints. Without a life of his own, Sy lives through his fantasies triggered by the photos he expertly develops. His narrative on the lives of select regular patrons of his shop is a classic of middle American profiling. And his strict attention to detail brings him close to blows with a repair technician whose reality is closer to pedestrian standards.

Beige is Sy's theme from his clothes and car to most of his apartment. The contrast between his sallow life and his target fantasy family is vivid. His only friends seem to be imaginary as Sy move from fantasy to reality in dream sequences that get more bizarre as the story moves forward.

Gary Cole portrays the typical discount store manager (Bill Owens) who's waiting to pounce on any oversight as he peers out from the perch overlooking his domain. His management style, as evidenced by Sy's discharge, is a textbook example of bad management, but more the rule rather than the exception for a mall manager.

When Sy begins to use his camera as a weapon (with an interesting explanation of the derivation of the word "snapshot") he really goes for revenge. And by the time he's through, you have a very strong argument for digital photography and marital fidelity.

In the absence of a dark room - since these high-tech developers do it in broad daylight - we have a very dark film. Not one that will give you nightmares, but you'll never again leave your real address with the clerk at your one-hour photo.

Grant me one wish - to age gracefully surrounded by doting admirers who recognize our strengths and overlook our fogeyness. Okay, this is one long wish but Clint Eastwood got it with "Blood Work" as did Paul Newman in "The Road to Perdition," and Gene Hackman in "The Heist." Would that we were all that lucky.

"Blood Work" was inspired by the novel of the same name. If it was "based on" that book, the cutting room floor must have been knee-deep in celluloid. The book is a worthy read but the screenwriters took major liberties. And you'll enjoy the film as long as you don't expect a faithful retelling.

Eastwood's portrays an aging FBI profiler with a rare blood type. He's got a transplanted heart from a murder victim and a gnawing guilt that is intensified when he meets the surviving son and his attractive sister. "She'd still would be dead whether or not you got her heart," but his intuition tells him otherwise. The plot moves forward on his doubt.

Paul Rodriguez's caricature of chronic "bad cop" begins as a funny routine then grates, as he won't let it go. Comics have made the transition to Hollywood gracefully. Let's blame this one on a directorial oversight even though Eastwood didn't forget to award himself a babe. Angelica Huston provides the voice of reason and threatens to refer Eastwood if he doesn't drop this investigation that's draining his energy. Count the many times Eastwood is told "You look like s--t."

The police are portrayed as bumbling bureaucrats who can be had for the price of a Crispy Crèmes (nice product placement). Their shortsightedness would fail them in Criminology 101. Is this believable? C'mon Dirty Harry, you were once haunting that squad room. The smartest officials are the ones who give Eastwood wide berth to do his magic.

This is a crime thriller that has the intrigue to please the mystery fan. Plot holes aside, we get a chance to solve it along side a very human investigator. He's a little slower, a bit grayer and somewhat forgetful, but he still gets us there.

'XXX' is a film for the Play Station generation and when Zander Cage (Vin Diesel) proclaims "I like something fast enough to do something stupid in," you know he's going to get it.

'XXX' is an action film, a thriller and a bit of a mystery to me. What's Samuel Jackson doing here? Did he lose a bet? Vin Diesel was quite at home among the beautifully illustrated, strategically pierced Eurotrash. "Why is it always the a-holes who pass the test?" was posed by a regular agent about the motley collection of recruits. Is he referring to the screen test. But then I thought Vin Diesel was a wine to be served with at tailgate parties.

Everything about this film is beyond belief. The effects are brutal - I believe no animals were harmed in it's filming however a stunt double was killed- the dialog punishing - "the things I'm gonna do for my country" says Cage as he moves on a perky seductress- and the plot derivative - Cage is offered a get out of jail free card if he works for the agency. What's that smell? A sequel perhaps? Nature has a way of washing clean our mistakes as Prague, the scene of this crime, is now half submerged.

You won't fall asleep on this one unless you can snooze through an earthquake. And those among you who are serious first person shooter game fans will love "XXX." For the rest of us, summer is fleeting.

Let's get some sun.

The ability to read signs, if I understand the storyline, is inversely proportional to the potential to do something about it. First the dogs, then the kids and finally the adults woke up to the approaching menace. But isn't the ability to read signs what a successful life is all about? That is, reading signs rather than only seeing coincidences.

Perhaps I should have read the signs: 1. An over-promoted movie, 2. An incredible difficulty in writing a commentary, and 3. A movie associated with corn.

Okay, the 3rd one was a stretch but the first two are real.

We've all learned to be skeptical with M. Night Shyamalan 's films after the sleight-of-hand he pulled in "Sixth Sense." Midway through this film he reminds us of distractions and to keep our guard up. What comes is more a message to keep the faith, know that everything happens for a reason and "calm down and eat some fruit."

Periodic infusions of humor break the tension without seeming too forced. The soundtrack builds suspense right from the start as the dogs sense the unknown terror and two cute kids' insight advance the plot (thank god!) But why do I feel like I'm watching an old "Twilight Zone" plot?

This film is one of the several big father-son relationship films? Here we have a family recovering from the loss of mom with a father dealing with his son in need of support. Gibson's character is in the middle. He's reconciling with God, the Father as well as his wounded son. He's dealing with forces beyond his comprehension - and, obviously, so am I. Add to this "The Road to Perdition" and the "Minority Report," all in one summer! What's the message behind this recurring theme? Has it anything to do with Dubyah and George the Elder? Passing the torch? Burying the hatchet? Forgiving?

I think M. Night Shyamalan is riding on his past success. Watch for the signs.

Put yourself into Carla's shoes. She is an overworked, unappreciated administrative drudge who is invisible. You know her: she's trained three of her last three bosses, knows where all of the bodies are buried and might even look back at you in the mirror when you brush your teeth. Always having time for another thankless task and does it better than most despite a serious disability, she has the desk on the way to the restroom that becomes the repository of half-finished cups of coffee begging to be spilled. What? You don't want to hear it? Well, she can't and neither can you until your hearing aid is in place. Prepare to experience life from the perspective of the hearing impaired.

Carla (Emmanuelle Devos) needs a change in her life. Work is leading nowhere; friends are relying on her to meet their domestic needs and the only way out starts with a collapse that goes virtually unnoticed. She won't take a vacation - a contract is going critical - so the only alternative is to hire an assistant. Carla submits requirements that convey her real needs: a 'well-groomed' man. This brings an applicant for approval that reminds us that we should be careful with our wishes.

Paul (Vincent Cassell) does everything wrong from the start of his job interview and his getting hired clearly demonstrates Carla's interest in his non-job-related qualities. She sees potential in this former thief and as the story unfolds, their relationship grows in a very unusual pattern of co-dependence.

Paul has a difficult transition returning to the world outside of prison walls and finds himself in another sort of prison: one of the office variety and another of indentured servitude to pay off an old debt. His skills as a thief help Carla win a political battle in the office. But Paul sees a grander opportunity with Carla's skill in lip reading and draws her even further into a world of intrigue.

This is a brutal film noir unrated and probably suitable for older teens. Carla grows more powerful, professionally as well as personally, as the story progresses and her disability gives her clear advantages over the rest of us. She grows as a woman discovering her sensual side while she uses her resources to overcome the obstacles of competing in a man's world.

The two main characters are meant for each other, in a strange way. Without Paul, Carla will remain in her role of a doormat. She has our sympathy, hopes and best wishes even if she doesn't make the best decisions along the way.

You will hear the world through Carla's ears, from awkward adjustments of your hearing aid, muffled sounds, all but inaudible without it to relatively distinct voices when you can see who's talking. With one major sense disabled, we see Carla's heightened intuitive power to compensate. And we can all use that sense to hear not only what people say, but also what they really mean.

It's the Depression (not now, in the film) and the Sullivan family is living quite well under the umbrella of the Irish mob's leadership of John Rooney (Paul Newman). Irish mob… would that make him a donald? Mike Sullivan (Tom Hanks) is a loyal but passionless enforcer in Rooney's army who seems to have detached himself from his duties, which is the only way the audience will accept Hanks in the role of a killer. Can we let this perennial hero portrays a psychopath? I doubt it. He's doing a job he hates, but it's one he does well. Does that describe some of us? So far, but I hope yours doesn't border on crimes against humanity.

This happy little film takes you on the road with the two Mikes, father and son, for 6 weeks in the winter across scenic northern Illinois prairie. Think flat, brown, rain, shapeless woolens and smarmy characters. Tragedy has drawn them together and driven them away from their old life, and they can have no hopes of ever returning. The father is determined to get revenge and the son becomes an unwitting partner to his dad. These two Mikes are developing a unique bond, with the father passing along his survival skills to the son. You'll find "classic" moments that we've all learned from our dads like distinguishing between the clutch and the accelerator, how to behave at a wake and driving a getaway car. Lessons we'll never forget.

Jennifer Jason Leigh has a role that's so undeveloped we wonders what really happened to her lines. Jude Law morphs into a reptilian artiste who captures his victims on film. His slouching gait and smarmy visage provides the tragic-comic relief in this Shakespearean tragedy. Paul Newman plays the patriarch who runs his tribe with elegance and style that's also picked up by Stanley Tucci who plays an erudite Frank Nitti as a mob boss who seems to have acquired an MBA. And young Tyler Hoechlin grows with his role.

Great story, fine cast, talented director and perfect timing so how can it miss? John Rooney may be describing his own experience when he laments, `Sons are put on this earth to trouble their fathers. ` But is he describing Michael Sullivan's? You be the judge.

THEY'RE BACK!!! Agent J, Agent K and those pesky aliens we loved so much in the original have returned to challenge, amuse and most of all take more of your money. The original was fresh, exciting and funny. The sequel isn't so fresh but 2 out of 3 isn't too bad.

Will Smith (J) is cool, self-assured and is the lead MIB agent now that Tommy Lee Jones (Agent K) has been neuralized. Had they done that to us, we may have enjoyed it more. Speaking of whom, Mr. Jones sleepwalks through most of this sequel even though he was de-neuralized midway through film. Perhaps as a postal worker, but the affect doesn't sell well as an agent of MIB.

Patrick Warburton (Agent T) plays the inept partner to a ‘T' and does nothing to distinguish himself goes Thank goodness his role is only a cameo. Tony Shaloub is engaging as the pawnbroker, believable as a computer geek and gets his head blown away several times. Once the gag has been played, it should be over. Lara Flynn Boyle better watch out . She plays a very familiar role here as her well known part in `The Practice.' She'll be type cast if she doesn't get out of the lawyerly parts. Agent J's love interest Laura Vasquez (Rosario Dawson who we all loved in `Sidewalks of New York') plays a very smart character and one can easily fall for her. She'll be back. And watch for a sequence in the film that seems to be taken right out the climax of the original. It warns us that MIB II is just a smaller version of the original.

Men in Black II is a sequel so what should we expect? Although this film breaks no new ground, it is funny. The gags are the same yet I heard myself laughing out loud at the dog and the worms and the digs at real celebs like Martha Stewart and Michael Jackson.. Since this is just more of the same ask yourself, did you like the original? Yeah? Well, you'll probably like it this time. And if you don't, at least it's short.