"Dolphin Tale"

Runtime: 1 hr, 52 min.

Rated PG for some mild thematic elements

Cast: Morgan Freeman, Harry Connick, Jr., Ashley Judd, Kris Kristofferson, Nathan Gamble

Director: Charles Martin Smith

Movies don't get more irresistible than this. In the minefield that is film criticism, I imagine there will be those who dismiss the film's efforts, although I can't imagine what some critics could possibly find objectionable here.

"Dolphin Tale" knows what it is, knows what it wants to accomplish, and spares no effort in appealing to viewer emotions. I have several colleagues who resent such tactics. But is that really a flaw on the part of the film? One acquaintance in particular told me once that she despises being emotionally manipulated in any form by a movie. So why go at all? I found myself wondering.

The film takes pride in its innocence. There is no cynicism, no violence in the least, not even any real forced conflict between the characters. (The closest it comes to conflict involves a summer school teacher who objects to his young student taking time off to tend to the injured dolphin, but even he begrudgingly comes around.) The absence of character conflict might turn off screenwriting students and hardcore critics, but sometimes, in this world with a sea of acceptable reasons to shut ourselves off from others, it's nice to bear witness to a heartfelt impetus to actually engage with life.

The movie is based on truth. Hollywood, I suspect, still hasn't quite mustered the nerve to make a fictional tearjerker like this. The story is of Winter the dolphin (played by the real-life Winter), who became ensnared in the ropes of a crab trap and washed up on a Florida beach, where she was discovered by a young boy named Sawyer Nelson (Nathan Gamble). Until that fateful day on the beach, Sawyer had his own share of personal issues; his father recently departed without a word, his cousin Kyle (Austin Stowell) is about to ship off to war in the Middle East, he is failing most of his classes and has a strained relationship with his mother (Ashley Judd). Sawyer's life changes forever upon discovering the wounded mammal. He helps cut her loose, and Winter is taken to the local marine aquarium for medical care. The aquarium is run by Dr. Clay Haskett (Harry Connick Jr.) and several tireless assistants. Sawyer immediately strikes up a friendship with Dr. Clay's daughter, Hazel (Cozi Zuehlsdorff), as they share a few common bonds... Winter for one, and the fact that both have lost a parental figure. (We learn Hazel's mother passed away when she was seven.) To save Winter's life, her tail had to be removed, forcing her to adjust her backside swimming motion from up and down to side to side. This works for a while, until that motion begins to cause irreparable damage to her spine. The situation is grim.

Meanwhile, other tragic events have befallen the citizens of Clearwater, Florida. Kyle was injured in an explosion, has lost the use of his right leg, and is despondent upon returning home from the War. Also, the aquarium is suffering from money problems, and faces no other choice but to sell to an entrepreneur who wishes to erect a hotel there. This would mean no medical care for Winter. One day, while visiting Kyle at the VA hospital, Sawyer takes note of the prosthetics prowess of Dr. Cameron McCarthy (Morgan Freeman) and has an idea... is there a way to make an artificial tail for Winter? "Nobody in their right mind would even attempt such a thing," he solemnly replies. Then adds, "Luckily, I'm not in my right mind." Sawyer, Dr. McCarthy, and the team at the aquarium work around the clock to help save Winter's life. The collective effort soon gains nationwide attention, and there just might be a way to save the aquarium after all.

The director is Charles Martin Smith, a veteran actor who played the kind SETI scientist who helped free Jeff Bridges in "Starman" and the self-effacing accountant who ultimately joined forces with Eliot Ness in "The Untouchables." The movie contains quite a few emotional parallels to Winter's story (Sawyer's absent father, Hazel's deceased mother, Kyle's lost limb, the aquarium's lack of financial solvency) yet all those subplots are handled delicately and never feel like they're competing with each other or with the central story of Winter. Smith and screenwriters Karen Janszen and Noam Dromi are very careful where they align all those symbolic storylines so that one never upstages the other. It seems like the film should be more contrived and mawkish than it is. The more melancholic moments are tempered with some humorous bits, including a feisty pelican who has made himself at home in the aquarium, and a runaway remote controlled helicopter that wreaks havoc on the unsuspecting marine life.

I realize I've imparted a number of plot points, but I don't think that will impact one's enjoyment. The effectiveness of the movie isn't in the narrative mechanics, but the emotions they evoke; a reasonable moviegoer can see the parallels from afar. The film works despite that.

I, too, have a certain reluctance to be immediately drawn into a film, especially if it's a tearjerker or attempts to be. This one didn't take long to navigate through my defenses. And even for those whose reluctance is more potent than mine, the movie has a way around that... it contains actual footage of the events depicted in the film. From Winter's rescue to the prosthetic tail to the scores of crippled kids who drew inspiration and were giddy with excitement upon touching the miracle mammal. Yep, this story is real. As is happiness. And hope.

NOTE: The movie is offered in most theatres in both 3D and 2D. I viewed the 2D version. I can't imagine I would have found the 3D version more enriching. Either way, the experience is worth it.

* * * 1/2  out of  * * * *  stars

"Killer Elite"

Runtime:1 hr. 40 min.

Rated R for strong violence, language and some sexuality/nudity

Cast: Jason Statham, Clive Owen, Robert De Niro, Yvonne Strahovski, Dominic Purcell, Adelwale Akinnuoye-Agbaje

Director: Gary McKendry

There's nothing really awful about "Killer Elite" yet there's nothing really great about it, either. The movie is competent enough; just not terribly interesting. It prefers motion over emotion and viewer interest. In the end, what does that really leave us with?

The story is supposedly based on truth. The film makes a point of telling us this, but doesn't seem too caught up in proving its veracity. (The title of the book upon which the movie is based was "The Feather Men" but the filmmakers, I imagine, didn't hesitate to scrap that possible title for the more macho-sounding "Killer Elite" even though it might invite confusion with Sam Peckinpah's film of the same name.)

Jason Statham plays Danny, a hired assassin who quits the business after executing a target before the innocent eyes of the man's child. He retires to Australia, renovates a home and takes up with an extremely cute Aussie (Yvonne Strahovski) who could cure any lifelong hit man from an addiction to blood lust. It's only when Danny's longtime mentor, Hunter (Robert De Niro) is held hostage by an exiled sheik (Rodney Afif) that our protagonist is forced to re-enter the killing scene. To free Hunter, Danny must locate three SAS soldiers who participated in the execution of the sheik's sons as part of a war to procure oil, force them to confess to the killings on tape, then dispose of them. To accomplish the task, Danny reassembles his old team, including a skilled marksman named Davies (Dominic Purcell) and an explosives expert named Meier (Aden Young).

The subsequent hits capture the attention of Spike Logan (Clive Owen), a former SAS agent forced into early retirement after losing an eye in the field. He is contracted out as an enforcer of sorts for a secret society of ex-SAS who call themselves "The Feather Men" because, if I understood correctly, their touch is sooo light. (They now engage in various activities, many of which are illegal. It's all kind of murky.) Spike took such enormous pride in his days as an SAS agent, to the point where he knows about some of the illegal activities of the Feather Men yet remains loyal. It affords him a way to get back into the field. A showdown between Danny and Spike is inevitable.

I don't mind stories based on truth, but I grow tired of films that mold themselves with overly derivative and cliched elements, then attempt to justify it by falling back on the supposed non-fiction origins of the story. This one runs the cliche gamut... a hit man with a heart of gold, an exasperated lover who can't understand his double life, a job that goes wrong, and so on. Oh, but you can't criticize it 'cause it's based on truth! Yeah, okay... and "Moneyball" could have been a sleep-inducing docudrama involving nothing but numbers and statistics, but the filmmakers there found the humanity in the story and made a magnificent picture. Sorry, but "based on truth" isn't a sufficient excuse for embracing cliche.

I sense Jason Statham is capable of much greater acting range, yet I fear at this point we'll never get an opportunity to find out. All his roles seem to be merging into one. Robert De Niro is always a welcome sight, yet his role here is too insignificant to make much of an impact. Unless he owed a fellow cast member or crewman a favor, I'm not sure what he's doing in this film. Clive Owen is the most fun to watch; his fiery intensity and unbridled loyalty to "the cause" elevates the scenes he occupies.

I don't know. Action aficionados might like the movie. It just didn't do much for me. The characters spend so much time globetrotting and pulling double-crosses on each other that my interest eventually wore out. It's an admirable effort to make something more "substantial" than your typical throwaway action pic. Sadly, it's no more interesting.

* *  out of  * * * *  stars

"Abduction"

Runtime:1 hr. 46 min.

Rated PG-13 for sequences of intense violence and action, brief language, some sexual content and teen partying

Cast: Taylor Lautner, Alfred Molina, Antonique Smith, Maria Bello, Jason Isaacs, Sigourney Weaver, Lily Collins 

Director: John Singleton

"Abduction" is a movie on life-support.  The filmmakers are trying with maddening desperation to take the material seriously, when the material itself is begging (and I mean begging) to be ridiculed.

Or at least moderately self-mocking.  Or just fast-paced throughout.  There's one scene that does work.  It occurs as the villain's henchmen arrive at the doorstep of the young hero's suburban home, break-in through the front door and assault his mother.  With little hesitation, both mother and father immediately unload a torrent of punches, kicks, head-butts and we see they are no ordinary parents.  It's a skillfully staged action scene that, for one mere moment anyway, made me sit up and take notice.  Unfortunately, the sleep-inducing scenes leading up to that and the ones scattered about sporadically after managed to suck any potential enjoyment I might have taken from the experience.

The movie stars Taylor Lautner as Nathan, a high school outcast (uh-huh) who feels like he's been living someone else's life.  It's hard for him to explain, but his parents feel like total strangers to him, he has bouts of uncontrollable rage, and is tormented by recurring nightmares involving a woman singing him a lullaby before her demise.  Could his parents be impostors?  Nathan meets regularly with a shrink (Sigourney Weaver) who offers up some strange advice that flies in the face of conventional psychoanalysis (hmmm) and to top it all off, he's too shy to make a move on his cute neighbor, Karen (Lily Collins).

One night, while working on a school assignment together, Karen comes across a website that gives vital information on missing children and has an age-enhancement feature.  To his shock, one of the missing children, when aged, looks exactly like Nathan.  The coincidences are simply too strange to ignore.  He badgers his mother (Maria Bello) to come clean, and she finally confesses that she and his father (Jason Isaacs) are indeed not his real parents.  Of course, soon after comes the aforementioned assault which sends both Nathan and Karen on the run.  They find themselves pursued by a foreign special ops assassin (Michael Nyqvist) and a tenacious CIA agent (Alfred Molina), both of whom are seeking the same thing.  Nathan's life can only be retained by solving the mystery surrounding his very existence.

The screenplay by Shawn Christensen has its share of flaws, but the bigger problem is that an action thriller with a seventeen-year-old protagonist is an awfully hard sell... even for a member of the "Twilight" cast.  The only way a movie like this can work is if the pedal is kept firmly pressed to the floor.  Director John Singleton is a competent action movie technician.  His mistake here is slowing the pace in an apparent effort to make a Serious Drama and focus on a teen romance better served in Twilight-land.  Decelerating the pace gives us time to ponder such implausibilities as how the protagonists are able to trek from Virginia to Nebraska to Pennsylvania in the span of a single afternoon.  Or how the hero arranged to have a loaded pistol smuggled into a major league baseball stadium and taped to the bottom of a seat, and how the villain managed to swipe it from an adjacent seat even as his hands never left his lap.  Or how the movie is called "Abduction" when there is no abduction in the film.  At all.

I have nothing against Taylor Lautner, but I doubt he'll ever be associated with a vast acting range.  He does what he can.  Lily Collins follows up her role as the plucky sister in "The Blind Side" with her role as the plucky damsel-in-distress in "Priest" and plays the plucky sidekick here.  The road to typecasting is shorter than actors realize.  Sigourney Weaver embodies her role like someone who knows the material isn't working.  She has a verbal exchange late in the movie that is truly painful to watch.  I felt bad for her.  Alfred Molina comes off the least scathed, if only because he has a knack for being able to sell the unsellable. 

Singleton has gone from helming powerful dramas that clearly originated in his heart and soul ("Boyz 'n the Hood," "Poetic Justice") to directing more modest action pics ("2 Fast 2 Furious").  "Abduction" seems like an attempt to bridge the two.  He wants to take this material more seriously than it deserves.  I hope he finds his way back to projects that ignite his passion.  He does that with his next effort and I'll gladly eat every word written here.

* 1/2  out of  * * * *  stars

"Moneyball"

Runtime:2 hr. 6 min.

Rated PG-13 for some strong language

Cast: Brad Pitt, Jonah Hill, Philip Seymour Hoffman, Robin Wright, Stephen Bishop

Director: Bennett Miller

The cinematic sports arena is one of few places where we can truly love a tragic figure.  Not feel sorry for them, but genuinely love their flaws and forever root for their success.  Such is the case with Billy Beane.  One of the hottest baseball projects fresh out of high school, Beane was ultimately drafted by the New York Mets and offered a contract.  His dilemma was that he was also accepted to Stanford University on a joint baseball-football scholarship, and could not both attend college and play pro ball.  Team management officials sat in his kitchen and ultimately sold him on the idea that while an element of risk was involved in the decision (as is the case with all major decisions), this was a once in a lifetime opportunity.  The only problem with once in a lifetime opportunities is they don't take into account the remainder of one's lifetime and how one would cope should he come out on the wrong side of that risk.

Beane made his decision, took the money, and joined the Mets organization.  But, as what often happens in pro sports, he simply never panned out in the big leagues.  There was no substance addiction holding him back nor a catastrophic injury that prematurely ended his career... there was no real explanation for his ineffectiveness against tougher competition.  After bouncing around from team to team, he finally made the decision to surrender his playing days to become a scout.  He did this, it would seem, as a form of punishment.  Not just for himself and his failure as a pro, but for the entire scout system who, we sense, he holds responsible for instilling in him a false confidence he never earned. 

Based upon the book by Michael Lewis, “Moneyball” is set primarily during the 2002 baseball season.  Beane is the general manager of the Oakland A’s.  The previous year, they had come up just one game short against the post 9/11 darling New York Yankees in the American League Division Series and all the radio talk involved the unfortunate inevitability that star players like Jason Giambi and Johnny Damon would be jumping ship for higher salaries in bigger markets.  The story is about how Beane was forced to field a winning team with a miniscule payroll by studying the analytical principles of Bill James’ sabermetrics.  The movie involves statistics and the classic underdog, but at the center is Beane himself.  Brad Pitt plays him with charm, wit, melancholy, and a free-wheeling voracity to turn the tables on a seemingly unfair system.  He practically stumbled into scouting, turned to unorthodox measures in desperation and, in at least some eyes, changed the way the game is viewed.

“There are rich teams, and there are poor teams.  And then there’s fifty feet of crap.  And then there’s us,” Beane explicates to his scouting department after listening to the group discuss such mundane qualities as whether a certain player has a good-looking swing or may have confidence issues indicated by an unattractive girlfriend.  “You guys are talking like we’re looking for Fabio.  We have got to think differently.”  While on a trip to Cleveland to discuss trade possibilities with GM John Hart, Beane notices an unassuming young kid whispering advice during the meeting.  He tracks the kid down later to find out his deal.  This is Peter Brand (Jonah Hill), and he works as a “special assistant” for the Tribe.  (The character is fictitious, but is based on real-life front office assistant Paul DePodesta.)  He’s a Yale graduate with an economics degree and a love of baseball… and especially Bill James’ theories on player value being determined by statistical analysis.  (“Your goal shouldn’t be to buy players.  Your goal should be to buy wins, and in order to do that you need to buy runs.”)  Beane lures Peter away from the Indians, and utilizing the sabermetrics approach to analysis, they compile a list of affordable players that just might make a winning team. 

This obviously doesn’t sit well with the scouts, some of whom have silently resented Beane for years as they have most likely detected a disdain for the scouting profession.  Nor does it sit well with manager Art Howe (Philip Seymour Hoffman), who is in the final year of his contract and is forced to accept the new acquisitions, which he begrudgingly does though doesn’t start the players Beane wants him to.  His actions, though, are bred more from pragmatism than antagonism.  (“I don’t want to go fifteen rounds on this, Billy,” he calmly tells Beane.  “The card is mine, and I’m going to run the team in a way that I can explain in job interviews this winter.”  He makes a pretty salient point.)

The film was directed by Bennett Miller (“Capote”) and the script adaptation was by Steven Zaillian and Aaron Sorkin, two virtually can’t miss Hollywood screenwriters.  This is a supremely well-made movie.  It might seem strange that a film about sports statistics is as involving as this one is, but the filmmakers accomplish here what Sorkin and David Fincher did with “The Social Network.”  The characters and their motivations are far more fascinating than their accomplishments, though said accomplishments did make many sit up and take notice.  The heart and soul of the movie isn’t the success of the team, but the bittersweet saga of Billy Beane himself… a man forever tortured by unrealized dreams who sadly believes that only in changing the game itself can personal restitution be attained.

While there are arguments on both sides as to whether sabermetrics does work, it’s worth noting (as the movie does) that the Boston Red Sox did win their first World Series incorporating the philosophy championed by Beane in Oakland.  That happened two years after Beane turned down owner John W. Henry’s offer to be general manager for the Sox.  It’s also a sad irony of sorts that low payroll teams like the 2003 world champion Florida Marlins and the 2008 American League champion Tampa Bay Rays have enjoyed more success than Beane’s Oakland A’s.  But what I think makes Beane an endearingly tragic figure is that personal successes wouldn’t calm the demons that continue to haunt him.  His redemption doesn’t come on the field, but in a scene at the very end as he’s driving down a desolate highway.  He puts a CD in; it’s from his daughter, who loves him unreservedly but senses his pain.  A familial love letter in the form of a serenade spills from the speakers.  As his daughter’s lovely voice fills the car, we’re reminded that success can seem miles away, but salvation is always within reach.


* * * *  out of  * * * *  stars

"The Hedgehog"

Runtime:1 hr. 38 min.

Not Rated

Cast: Josiane Balasko, Garance LeGuillermic, Togo Igawa, Anne Brochet, Ariane Ascaride, Vladimir Yordanoff, Sarah LePicard, Jean-Luc Porraz, Gisele Casadesus, Mona Heftre, Samuel Chache, Valerie Karsenti, Stephan Wojtowicz

Director: Mona Achache

What a charmer this film is. Darkness and innocence are certainly not an unusual cinematic combination, but can be tricky to pull off. Twenty-something director Mona Achache has meshed the two quite well in her feature film debut.

The movie is a sweet observation of self-discovery. Dysfunction and isolation play a role here, as the story focuses on two inhabitants of an upscale Paris apartment building... the aging, frumpy, seemingly-cantankerous super whose social internment is self-imposed, and a soon-to-be-twelve-year-old girl whose cloistered existence is the result of familial dysfunction. This isn't necessarily a deep movie, but profundity can sometimes be the offspring of a pretentious mind. The story is essentially an awakening of perspective, and alterations to one's outlook needn't be deep to be life-changing.

Paloma Josse (Garance Le Guillermic) plans to take her own life on her twelfth birthday. She tells us this via a film camera handed down by her father that she uses to document the reasons behind her decision. She's not some outwardly volatile kid devoid of perspective, but a precocious girl with too much of it. She sees the fishbowl existence her life will inevitably become, and wants no part of it. (Notice the way she lifts her glasses above her head to film with the camera, then immediately pulls them down when she's done... this is a girl determined not to miss a beat.) She is dismissed by her father, ridiculed by her sister, while her psychoanalyzed and over-medicated mother talks more lovingly to her plants than to her. Paloma is not fraught with emotion over her decision; she's at peace with it.

One morning, an elderly tenant in the building is found deceased. Paloma films as the body is wheeled from the apartment. This is a crucial scene, as Paloma only connects with the idea of death at this point; not with the life that came before it. Indeed, the only person shedding a tear is her mother, but such emotions mean little when they're a dime a dozen and shed by a perpetually-medicated matron.

Paloma's keen observations soon lead to Miss Michele (Josiane Balasko), the building super who's perceived as a second-class citizen by the inhabitants. To most, the extent of social interaction with Miss Michele is demanding that she clean or fix various things in the building. And yet the woman doesn't seem to miss pleasant conversation; she fulfills her duties, but feels no obligation to warm up to those making a request. She keeps to herself, favoring classic literature over simple conversation. Paloma is fascinated, most notably by Miss Michele's seemingly effortless ability to remain hidden. She compares her existence to that of a hedgehog... prickly on the outside but refined on the inside.

That sentiment is shared by the kind-hearted Japanese widower Kakuro Ozu (Togo Igawa) who has taken up residence in the recently-vacated apartment. Upon meeting Miss Michele, Kakuro instantly senses her love of literature and manages to seize her attention by quoting "Anna Karenina." (Tolstoy is Miss Michele's favorite author; she named her cat Leo.) He is persistent in his interest though she is reluctant... not so much from previous heartbreak (though she did experience it) but from too many years of self-imposed isolation.

The movie takes place exclusively within the confines of the apartment building, yet never feels too narrow or restricted in scope. The understated, shadowy cinematography and production design offer up an atmosphere both limited in joy yet sated with middling comfort. We can see how tenants could spend a life of acceptable repose here without experiencing the slightest bout of unbridled happiness.

Both Garance Le Guillermic and Josiane Balasko are successful at engaging our interest without evoking our pity. That's critical to the story's success. Miss Michele may be unfairly dismissed by others, but her ability to love again is in her hands alone. And to call Paloma suicidal is a bit of a misnomer. She's not tortured to a point of pity; she just needs an adjustment of outlook.

The film contains moments of both sweetness and tragedy. (Melancholia is built in to stories like this.) At the conclusion is the reality that perspectives aren't set in stone, and are inventions of our own being. Changes to our lives are gifts we give to others. Changes in our perspectives are gifts we give to ourselves.

* * *  out of  * * * *  stars
 

"Higher Ground"

Runtime:1 hr. 49 min.

Rated R for some language and sexual content

Cast: Joshua Leonard, Norbert Leo Butz, Michael Chernus, Vera Farmiga, McKenzie Turner, Donna Murphy, John Hawkes

Director: Vera Farmiga

Corinne so desperately wants to believe.

Contrary to how it may be perceived, "Higher Ground" does not hang religion from a meat hook and begin hurling punches. That's not its goal. The story is of a devout Christian who turned to Spirituality in a time of great need, loves her Faith, adores her children, embraces the fellow members of her congregation, but slowly begins to question the meaning of certain events--both past and present--as an oddly inconsolable emptiness begins to find its way into her soul as the years pass. It's no one's fault, and she knows that. Just an inexplicably persistent void. ("I try inviting God in," she confesses at a service. "I leave the porch light on, but sometimes He just doesn't show up.")

There have been some who have denounced the film as an assault against organized religion. I disagree, and if you've seen the movie and still believe this to be true, ask yourself one question... are the personal reservations Corinne has at the end really so out-of-whack and inconceivable that even the hardest core follower couldn't, at one time or another, have felt something similar? If you're answer is still yes, then I question... if not your Faith, then your honesty with yourself.

True, the movie does contain a few hardcore believers that do fit a certain stereotype, yet even in those instances, the film doesn't cut them down like bowling pins in some misguided attempt at secular purgation. Consider a scene late in the film, when Corinne speaks to the congregation. A preacher, who believes women aren't learned enough to address the fellow members in speech, attempts--as he's done countless times before--to interrupt her. She stands her ground, but does so while showing the misguided evangelist a surprising amount of respect.

Corinne is played by Vera Farmiga, who also directed. She's working from a script by Tim Metcalfe ("Kalifornia") and Carolyn S. Briggs, whose memoir "This Dark World" is the source material upon which the film is based. I don't believe Farmiga's decision to make this her directorial debut is bred from personal spiritual ambivalence; more from her well-documented frustration with the plethora of mundane, unsubstantial, and marginalized roles for women in mainstream Hollywood. (Her disgust was the topic of a New York Times cover story in 2006, where she confessed to setting the offending scripts aflame.)

What I imagine appealed to Farmiga was the freedom of a lead female character to question things that don't have answers and pursue avenues of existence that may not lead to happy endings. The story has an open-ended conclusion filled with doubt, but forever yoked with doubt is the existence of hope--however small--and the possibility of happiness. The story spans decades, and follows Corinne as she matures, where we see that doubt has always played a role in her life and always will. From her teenage romance with a budding musician (played as a teen by Boyd Holbrook and later by Joshua Leonard, far removed from his "Blair Witch" days) to their wedding upon getting pregnant, to their impulse decision to surrender to the highest Spiritual ideals following a near-death bus accident, and into Corinne's day-to-day marital existence as she struggles with being subservient and embracing the "reason" behind certain tragic events that have recently befallen her and her loved ones. She detests her doubts, but there is a subconscious part of her that is aware that those reservations are too important to ignore; they've led her to this point and pondering their meaning--no matter how painful--is the only way forward.

I am not agnostic, but I do reject fundamentalist Christianity. (Not the Christianity part; the fundamentalist portion.) Nothing in life is meant to stay in its rudimentary incarnation. Everything is evolutionary in nature, though fire and brimstone fundamentalists would have me killed for uttering such a sentiment. (I'm trusting here that objectors to evolution in any form don't still nourish themselves by sucking breast milk from their mothers' teat.) When hardcore Christians arrive at my doorstep asking to speak to me about Jesus, I send them away immediately. Not because I despise them, but because my days are hectic enough already, and my God-given time management skills simply will not afford it.

But my rangebound spiritual credence is neither here nor there. The movie is about one woman's crisis of Faith, and that alone is not an attack on religion. So what do we take away from a film about doubt? I suppose that doubt is never wrong... in any capacity. And as it pertains to Spirituality... for my money, those with the greatest doubts also harbor the greatest conviction. I, like everyone, have experienced doubt and witnessed loved ones wading through their own quagmire of spiritual dubiety. I have no answers for their pain, but I'm fortunate to realize that answers aren't mine to give. I see both their anguish and their Spiritual resolve, and love them all the more for it. I am quite blessed.

* * * 1/2  out of  * * * *  stars
 

"I Don't Know How She Does It"

Runtime: 1 hr, 29 min.

Rated PG-13 for sexual references throughout

Cast: Sarah Jessica Parker, Pierce Brosnan, Kelsey Grammer, Christina Hendricks, Olivia Munn, Greg Kinnear 

Director: Douglas McGrath

Here we have a movie that is pleasant enough in a lot of respects, and only hampered by the fact that a comedy involving the day-to-day machinations of an overworked wife and mother has been explored to death in the movies.  The film offers no new insights and is too lightweight to recommend, but it does charm from time to time along the way.

The one surprise that the movie offers is how seemingly aware it is that it's not going to impart any real insight.  Its best quality is that it doesn't overreach, choosing instead to focus on the humor.  (I know that sounds like the most backhanded of compliments, but I assure you I'm not trying to be sarcastic.)  "I Don't Know How She Does It" is smarter than a lot of comedies and benefits from a talented cast.  It doesn't leave enough of an imprint to be effective, but it's nowhere near as bad as the paltry 17% approval rating on rottentomatoes.com would have you believe.

Based upon the book by Allison Pearson, the movie stars Sarah Jessica Parker as Kate Reddy, the aforementioned wife/mother/full-time employee at an upscale Boston investment firm.  We see how overworked she is right from the start as her nights are filled not with sleep, but with trepidation over her "list" of things to accomplish the following day... things like getting her kids to school, putting the finishing touches on a work proposal, taking the family car in for servicing.  ("Shouldn't that be on Richard's list?" she wonders while glancing over at her all-too-peacefully asleep husband.  "Ah, who am I kidding... he doesn't have a list.")  Her biggest concern at the moment is coming up with something good for her daughter's bake sale.  For Kate, the most viable option is purchasing a pie from the store, then imbuing it with just enough imperfections to make it seem homemade.  Fortunately, Kate's best friend (Christina Hendricks) is also a mother who manages to "trump" her bake sale ineffectiveness with an even more lame contribution.  (She accompanies Kate with a bowl of unset Jell-o nestled in her armpit.)

For the most part, Kate seems to be balancing things okay, despite the concerns of her mother-in-law (Jane Curtin) who wonders aloud if her two-and-a-half-year-old grandson would be speaking now if Kate spent more time in his presence.  Her husband (Greg Kinnear) is supportive and kind, though they do have the usual disagreements.  ("Husbands and wives view child care differently," Kate tells the audience in one of many voice-over narrations. "Men see it as money going out that could better be spent elsewhere, while women see a person who knows exactly what kind of blanket her two-year-old likes best."  Some things you can't put a price tag on.)  Kate's life shifts into full-throttle upon being given an opportunity to help orchestrate a corporate merger proposal with highly-renowned New York City power broker Jack Abelhammer (Pierce Brosnan).  The assignment would be a huge step in her career, though it could come at an exorbitant cost to her family's happiness.  Kate does have the benefit of a savvy, hardworking, tireless assistant named Momo (Olivia Munn) yet she must fight off her chief business rival, a smarmy twit named Bunce (Seth Meyers).

Parker is a deft comedienne with impeccable comic timing, though some of the bits of physical comedy do seem a little over-the-top.  One involves an embarrassing moment where Kate is caught "adjusting" her undergarments before a teleconferencing screen while not realizing someone is watching on the other end (how could she not see that one coming?) while another is the result of a lice scare just prior to a big meeting (aren't they all?).

The better bits involve various testimonials from other characters, none of whom have the slightest idea how hard it is to juggle the responsibilities of home and work... even though all are perfectly willing to offer their own would-be insights.  The most notable ones involve Olivia Munn's Momo who wonders why Kate calls her children during lunch "when she knows she's supposed to be working," Seth Meyers' Bunce who regurgitates chauvinistic crap while lamenting over his own perceived "double-standards" for men in the workplace, and Busy Philipps as a rival mother who imparts her own brand of wisdom from atop a stairmaster.  (I did find myself wondering about the origins of said testimonials.  Was someone making a documentary about Kate herself?)

There's nothing objectionable here, but nor is there enough to recommend.  The movie basically ends where it started.  Along the way there are a few laughs and I did find myself smiling through stretches, even as I knew nothing would remain in my memory for long.  The movie may appeal to some, though it didn't play--to me, anyway--like a must-see.

* * 1/2  out of  * * * *  stars

"Drive"

Runtime:1 hr. 40 min.

Rated R for strong brutal bloody violence, language and some nudity

Cast: Ryan Gosling, Carey Mulligan, Bryan Cranston, Albert Brooks, Oscar Isaac, Christina Hendricks, Ron Perlman

Director: Nicolas Winding Refn

"You've got five minutes," the driver says to a potential contractor while making his pitch to participate in a heist. "Anything that happens within that five minutes and I'm all yours... whatever you need. If something happens a minute either before or after, you're on your own." He lives his life with a similar kind of hard and fast simplicity.

"Drive" is a movie of few words, and even fewer thoughts. Its plot, like its main character, hasn't time for such luxuries. That approach works quite well here. A sordid past fuels the motivations of the driver, yet we're never privy to the details of his background. Screenwriter Hossein Amini and director Nicolas Winding Refn are wise enough to understand that the less we know about him, the more compelling his actions become. (We never learn his real name; he's credited simply as "The Driver.")

Ryan Gosling plays the main character as a man of both unwavering principles and ungodly rage, though the film waits patiently in allowing us to see the latter side to his personality. His job? He drives, is the way he phrases it to those who inquire. This takes on a number of forms. By day, he works as a Hollywood stunt driver while at night offers his services as a getaway man for heists. He also finds time to work at a repair shop run by Shannon (Bryan Cranston), a likable though somewhat shady guy who seems to know a little about the driver's past and is constantly on the lookout for ways to net a big score. (His limp tells us all we need to know about the unsavory personalities he has unwisely crossed paths with.) His latest proposal has him in cahoots with a rich crime boss named Bernie Rose (a convincingly fiendish Albert Brooks) who seems willing to do business with others for little more than to have a reason to torture them, and Nino (Ron Perlman), a pizzeria entrepreneur who fancies himself a modern-day mobster but is way too reckless to be effective at it.

The driver, meanwhile, mainly keeps to himself though does strike up a friendship with his neighbor, Irene (Carey Mulligan), a soft-spoken young mother to an engaging young boy named Benicio (Kaden Leos). Few words are spoken between the two neighbors (neither individual is overly loquacious) yet we sense the bond between them grow into something more than a friendship. That is, until Irene finally confesses to him that her husband, Standard (Oscar Isaac) is set to be released from prison in a matter of days. His reaction is no reaction; not only are his emotions not worn on the sleeve, they're embedded so deeply in his psyche that nothing less than a herculean effort could touch them. The driver maintains his friendship with Irene and pseudo-guardianship with Benicio. When Standard finds himself in debt for prison protection money and threats are levied against Irene and Benicio, the driver offers his services in a heist to repay the debt. (His emotions may be hidden, but his principles are front and center.) It's when the heist goes bad and the lives of those he cares for are suddenly in grave danger does his rage bubble to the surface.

The violence depicted in the film is as unbridled as I've seen in a long time, but what's remarkable is how patient the movie is before it gets to that point. Here we have a flashy action pic that doesn't skimp on the flash or the action, but nor does it allow that action to overshadow the characters and their relationships with each other. I also liked how the movie forgoes explanation for understanding; we don't learn a whole lot about these individuals, and yet we're offered a solid grasp of where they're coming from and where their principles lie. Too many movies have an irrepressible need to explain everything. That the main character remains a mystery throughout somehow makes the movie more compelling.

Director Nicolas Winding Refn incorporates a melange of cinematic techniques to underscore the tension, from photographing certain characters from waist-level up to shifting illumination (in a half-romantic/half-violent elevator scene) to using a slow dissolve in action sequences where most directors would utilize quick cuts. I especially admired how Refn employs the usage of slow motion, but uses it in the reaction shots of the actors instead of the action shots themselves.

The movie's best trait is that it exists on its own terms. Style over substance? Perhaps, though the style is superb. And the film does have substance. The difference being the filmmakers understand that a movie's capacity for being compelling isn't dependent on how much information is conveyed, but on exactly how much of it needs to be. Nothing more. The film cares as much about its characters as it does the violence that erupts around them. The end result is a surprisingly involving stylish thriller.

* * * 1/2  out of  * * * *  stars

"Straw Dogs"

Runtime: 1 hr, 49 min.

Rated R for strong brutal violence including a sexual attack, menace, some sexual content, and pervasive language

Cast: James Marsden, Kate Bosworth, Alexander Skarsgard, James Woods, Dominic Purcell

Director: Rod Lurie

Just about all remakes are unnecessary.  This one left me perplexed.  Why now?  And why this particular film?  I ask this not because Sam Peckinpah's 1971 original "Straw Dogs" was a masterpiece, but because it wasn't. 

The original was (in my opinion) one of Peckinpah's less effective films hampered not by its depiction of senseless violence, but by its nonsensical character motivation.  Meaningful movies can be made about brutality (i.e. Peckinpah's "The Wild Bunch") but when characters engage in brutal acts solely because a screenplay needs them to, it makes it harder to locate a meaning behind the violence. 

Both the original and this remake end with a young couple trapped in their house encircled by a slew of heavily-intoxicated thugs bent on getting in.  All the men are perfectly willing to die in order to get inside.  I am reminded of Roger Ebert's query regarding the 1971 original, where he wondered how each of these men could be drunk enough to entertain such a thought process yet be sober enough to do something about it.  I guess we’re supposed to look beyond such queries and simply contemplate the dark side of human nature.  It’s a filmmaking truth, however, that bending plausibility too much impacts any potential meaning.  We buy the villains as loutish thugs with miniscule social skills, but not kamikaze warriors willing to die in order to satisfy a little bout of bloodlust.  The third act (in both films) feels too staged.

Dustin Hoffman’s mathematician in the original has been replaced with James Marsden’s screenwriter this time around.  The story opens with David Sumner (Marsden) and his actress wife, Amy (Kate Bosworth in the Susan George role) relocating to Amy’s hometown of Blackwater, Mississippi after her father’s death to restore his house.  David also hopes the quiet isolation of the Deep South will afford him the chance to complete his latest screenwriting endeavor.  To “make good” with the locals, David unwisely offers a construction contract to Amy’s childhood love, Charlie (Alexander Skarsgard) who still houses a torch for her.  The locals collectively dislike David's fancy car, upscale attire, intellectual background and the mere fact that he's an outsider.  It’s not long before Charlie’s crew make themselves unwelcome in the couple's life, going so far as to leer at a sweat-drenched Amy as she jogs and helping themselves to all manner of food and beer in their home, all while performing actual work only a few hours each day.  Their actions drive a wedge between David, with his mild-mannered approach to conflict resolution, and Amy, who wishes he’d put his foot down and set the ground rules. 

The remake follows the original pretty closely, which merely adds to my bewilderment.  The director is Rod Lurie, whose “The Contender” remains one of my favorite political dramas.  I’m not sure exactly what he was going for here, or what he expected in terms of reactions from his audience.  My objections to this film pretty much mirror my objections to the original… the crescendo of third act violence felt too forced, and I just didn’t know what to take away from it.  What, that human nature has a dark side?  Yeah, I think that notion is pretty solidly entrenched in the field of common knowledge.

As far as the cast goes, Kate Bosworth comes off as the most credible, playing a woman at varying odds with both her ambivalent feelings toward the attitudes of certain townfolk and the perceived judgments of her “upper-class” spouse.  Marsden is okay, though we never really sense he’s reached his breaking point (as the ads suggest); his retaliatory actions seem like offspring of final act screenplay machinations.  The script seems to want to make Charlie more complex than your average thug, but Alexander Skarsgard looks confused in the role… as though he’s striving to understand the varying reactions he’s asked to portray.  The supporting players exist more for atmosphere than credibility, including an over-the-top James Woods as the high school’s former football coach who now bullies local law enforcement, and a miscast Dominic Purcell as an intellectually-stunted outcast who once “made a mistake” with a girl and now lives under a cloud of suspicion.

As I was leaving the theatre, I overhead a group of twenty-somethings laughing and commenting on how “totally cool” the violence was.  Such notions invite judgment, but a more somber thought took hold of my psyche… I wondered what else (if anything) did the filmmakers expect from the viewer?  Nothing came to mind.

* *  out of  * * * *  stars

"Contagion"

Runtime:1 hr. 45 min.

Rated PG-13 for disturbing content and some language

Cast: Marion Cotillard, Matt Damon, Laurence Fishburne, Jude Law, Gwyneth Paltrow, Kate Winslet, Bryan Cranston, Jennifer Ehle, Sanaa Lathan

Director: Steven Soderbergh

"Contagion" can be described as a dissection of a viral outbreak. It focuses more on paranoia than science. I suppose, then, it could also be characterized as a dissection of terrorism. After all, terrorism isn't defined by the act linked to it, but by the fear such acts instill.

Regardless of whether parallel meanings are intended, the movie is a smart, taut thriller/drama/procedural devoid of both forced emotional histrionics and migraine-inducing, uber-detailed scientific explanations. There is some science involved (there has to be), but it is curtailed at the point where we have enough information to know details such as rate of exposure, incubation period, etc. Instead of enfilading us with insider knowledge-based explanations, the film forgoes such approaches for more digestible information that conveys the direness of the situation. At one point, a government official (Enrico Colantoni) asks "is there any way someone could weaponize the bird flu, is that what we're looking at here?" "Someone doesn't have to weaponize the bird flu," is the reply. "The birds are doing that." I don't know if lines like that would be spoken behind real life closed doors, but it's fittingly ominous for the movie.

We're told that the outbreak most likely originated somewhere in Hong Kong. A businesswoman named Beth Emhoff (Gwyneth Paltrow) has recently returned to her Minneapolis home from China where her husband, Mitch (Matt Damon) and children await. She looks dreadfully sick, but blames it on mere jet lag. It's not long before she's rushed to the hospital with seizures and later pronounced dead. Her death occurred so suddenly and with no explanation that Mitch's reaction is more perplexed than heartbroken. ("What are you talking about, what happened to her? What happened to her?")

The medical and scientific elite spring into action, including Centers for Disease Control front man Dr. Ellis Cheever (Laurence Fishburne) and his ace scientist Dr. Erin Mears (Kate Winslet) who displays no hesitation in racing toward the battlefield at her own peril. There is also Cheever's number one lab technician, Dr. Ally Hextall (Jennifer Ehle) who tests a possible cure on herself because she's too close to answers not to risk it. The CDC combat the outbreak under the watchful eye of government official Lyle Haggerty (Bryan Cranston) who strives to make good decisions though must impose government parameters in the process. Also on the case is World Health Organization scientist Dr. Leonora Orantes (Marion Cotillard) who sets up base in Hong Kong.

Calamities like this do, however, bring out the opportunists, and the most glaring one here is a blog writer named Alan Krumwiede (Jude Law) who blazons a video demonstration of a possible cure online (though we question its veracity) while promulgating his alliance with "the people" even as we realize his own popularity is fed by paranoia. In one scene, he meets in secret with a pharmaceutical executive trying to corner a possible market for a cure. At first we scoff at a writer compromising his journalistic integrity in such a way... until we wonder if perhaps in doing so we're giving this guy too much credit by linking him with the very notion of integrity.

The story's tension is propelled not so much by the discovery of the cure but rather by its distribution. This is where Steven Soderbergh's film shows its strength. One scene shows a televised lottery where birthdates are drawn to determine who will receive the vaccination first; I can't imagine how maddening that would be. The doctors involved in isolating a cure are a noble bunch, though sometimes need to be reminded of all who deserve to know the extent of the situation and whether or not they have a chance at receiving a vaccination. ("I have people, too, Dr. Cheever. We all do," a janitor states pointedly.) There is also a subplot involving a doctor being ransomed in a remote Chinese village whose citizens await the vaccine. "I can't do any good here," the doctor reasons. Her captor knows this, understands it, and yet can't help his decision... he knows his village will not receive any vaccination in time. All options are viable in desperate times.

Maybe I'm stretching it with comparisons to terrorism. I don't know; perhaps the release date being so close to the ten year anniversary of 9/11 made me draw the link. The movie is essentially an observation of all manner of reactions to a horrific global situation. There is panic, violence, looting, red tape, and opportunists ready to pounce. But heroism is also waiting in the wings. Maybe the point here is simply to ask if, Heaven forbid, a widespread calamity occurred, how would we react?

* * *  out of  * * * *  stars

"Warrior"

Runtime:2 hr. 19 min.

Rated PG-13 for sequences of intense mixed martial arts fighting, some language and thematic material

Cast: Joel Edgerton, Tom Hardy, Jennifer Morrison, Frank Grillo, Nick Nolte

Director: Gavin O'Connor

The trailers for "Warrior" bore such a striking resemblance to "The Fighter" that one of two possible truths came to mind. Either a) the movie knew it had nothing original or appealing to offer and was trying to cash in on the similarities, or b) the movie was supremely confident and didn't fear such comparisons. I was relieved to see the latter come out on top.

Yes, the film follows sports convention, but follows it well. It involves mixed martial arts, although the movie is not about the sport. The story is a fictional family drama that feels real enough. It involves characters whose actions, reactions, and emotions seem authentic and whose thought-processes and choices, while often flawed, do seem credible given their experiences. True, as the film starts to crescendo toward its climax, it does so in a way that can seem contrived, yet we don't mind because the characters are just too compelling.

Brendan Conlon (Joel Edgerton) is a likable, hardworking physics teacher in a suburban Philadelphia high school. He married his high school sweetheart, Tess (Jennifer Morrison) and they have two daughters, a nice home, and money troubles. (Unforeseen medical expenses have put them behind.) Both spouses work extra jobs, but to little avail. We learn Brendan was once a UFC fighter, and enters mini-tournaments in seedy clubs for extra cash, to the chagrin of both his wife and his boss (Kevin Dunn) who, upon learning of his decision, is forced to suspend him pending a review from the school board. With no other options, Brendan seeks out his former trainer, Frank (Frank Grillo), a skilled fighting specialist who supplants fire and brimstone for a more philosophical approach. Brendan hopes to enter higher-profile tournaments that net more money.

Brendan's estranged brother, Tommy (Tom Hardy) recently returned to Pittsburgh after a tour in Iraq. Tommy was also a fighter--the more gifted pugilist of the two--though both were equally terrorized as kids by their alcoholic ex-fighter father, Paddy (Nick Nolte) who has since cleaned up his act and is now sober. Tommy immediately visits his father, although we're not sure if it's for closure or defiance. Paddy's remorse is genuine; he is eager for a fresh start, yet the raw emotions of his offspring are tough to sift through. Tommy does, however, enlist Paddy to help him train for an upcoming MMA tournament called SPARTA, which has a five million dollar purse. ("Now that much you were good at," his son tells him.) Tommy wishes to give the money to the family of a fellow soldier who died from friendly-fire. Both brothers find themselves entered in the same tournament.

The movie's greatest attribute is how masterfully it defines the characters by their relationships. This is especially true for Paddy; his demeanor around Tommy is quite different than it is around Brendan. He's equally remorseful toward both sons, but appears slightly more at ease around Tommy. (When they were kids, we learn he spent more time training Tommy than Brendan, as he perceived more talent and a fiercer spirit.) With Brendan, Paddy seems much more penitent.  He comes off like a desperate beggar engaged in a perpetual supplication for acceptance that he knows he'll never deserve. The script takes its time defining who these people are, both in their own eyes as well as in the eyes of those who love and hate them.

The screenplay serves as a solid framework, yet it's the performances that bring the film to life. Joel Edgerton is the story's straight man. His decency is conveyed not just in how he carries himself, but through the concern of his wife and the admiration of his students. Tom Hardy plays Tommy as an uncompromising pit bull with hatred coursing through his veins. That he's an enigma to us is the whole point of the performance; he's a mystery to all, especially to those who love him most. Tommy may be a war hero, but he's not always likable. (In a confrontation at a casino, he says something to Paddy that is so brutal and bred from such intense self-loathing that I didn't know who to feel more sorry for.)

The movie is smart, thoughtful, gut-wrenching and emotionally intense. The climax is engineered to be rousing and spirited, but I found it more draining than invigorating. There was just too much pain seeping from the bark of this family tree. Still, the film held me in its grip. The end isn't defined by who wins, but by the long-overdue embrace as the two warriors stepped from the ring. One whispers something to the other. We can't hear. We don't deserve to hear. Whatever it was, it was a sentiment meant only for them. They earned it.

* * *  out of  * * * *  stars

"Apollo 18"

Runtime:1 hr. 26 min.

Rated PG-13 for some disturbing sequences and language

Director: Gonzalo Lopez-Gallego

"Apollo 18" is the latest film belonging to the category often known as "found footage" movies.  "The Blair Witch Project" and "Paranormal Activity" are two of the more prominent entries into this bracket.  I prefer to expand this grouping to include thrillers that employ an unusual narrative technique to engender the most primal of fear.  Movies like "Open Water" and "Buried" come to mind, even though they're not "found footage" but do opt to delineate the horror of specific situations through minimalist filmmaking techniques.  I refer to these endeavors as "narrative gimmick movies" which, I admit, does sound like an insult though I don't mean it as such.  Indeed, many of the films in this category I found quite involving. 

"Apollo 18" is not one of them.  The problem, I think, lies in what it takes to make these films a success.  The trick to "narrative gimmick movies" is finding a way to circumvent the gimmick, and getting your audience to connect with the main character(s) on a purely gut level; to connect with their fear.  This movie does the opposite.  It embraces the gimmick much more than the genesis of the horror faced by these three most unfortunate astronauts.

"The Blair Witch Project" was supremely successful in getting me to connect with the budding young filmmakers and their misplaced romanticism toward the occult.  The directors there understood that being scary wasn't as important as being involving.  What made the situation unsettling wasn't what may or may not have lurked in the forest shadows, but watching those kids lose their sense of direction, see their food supply dwindle, observe the onset of madness as the chances of survival dissipate.  Those viewers who denounce "Blair Witch" as not being scary have trouble, I suspect, with the fundamental truth that fear is organic.  It needs to be fed.  To grow, to intensify.  When someone comes up behind you and screams in your ear causing you to jump, that's not fear.  It's impulse.  The first "Paranormal Activity" understood the difference; it had a few jarring moments, but was fiendishly patient and preyed on viewer imagination.  The second "Paranormal Activity" lost sight of the difference; it was little more than a second-rate fun house replete with an onslaught of BANGS and SCREAMS. 

But I'm wildly digressing here.  Back to "Apollo 18."  The movie's most rudimentary misfire is embracing the "found footage" angle to nauseating degrees.  We're told at the outset that the film was pieced together from footage uploaded onto a website called lunartruth.com.  At the movie's end, the website is again put up on screen just prior to the end credits.  (Okay, look... we'll begrudgingly accept the first one as part of the gimmick.  But when you put it up a second time... now that's getting a little insulting.  Precisely how dumb do the filmmakers think we are here, anyway?)

This "final" mission in the Apollo space program was kept hidden for reasons that become obvious as the story progresses.  The three astronauts (played by Warren Christie, Lloyd Owen, and Ryan Robbins) were informed that they were only being given need-to-know bits of information (uh-oh) that were authorized not by NASA, but the Department of Defense (oh boy) and that said DOD was overseeing the whole operation (not good) and their communications were to go through said Department (they're screwed).  When bizarre happenings take place during the mission, the three men soon find themselves possibly contaminated, in dire need of medical attention, and ultimately cut off from Houston control. 

Other problems exist with the movie.  It's harder to connect with an astronaut in danger.  Of course, we admire the astronauts' courage and resourcefulness, and sympathize as certain government officials betray them.  But we don't connect with their situation the way we might with Paul Conroy trapped in a coffin in "Buried" or the young couple afloat in a shark-infested expanse of ocean in "Open Water."  There's a difference.  Plus, "Apollo  18" just isn't scary, even on its own modest scale.  The big reveal involving certain moon rocks... well, let's just say it invites more snickers than shrieks.

The "footage" looks passable enough as stock NASA film.  The cinematography by Jose David Montero more or less works on a level of authenticity, although said validity is offset by Patrick Lussier's tendency to edit for dramatic effect.  It's all at the service of a concept that just doesn't work.  At the end of all films in this category, I am overcome with a sense of sadness.  This time, though, it's not because I connected with the characters and felt their pain.  It's that I didn't.  Big difference.

* *  out of  * * * *  stars