Movies

THE BLACK DAHLIA (2006). Directed by Brian De Palma. “I think you'd rather fuck me than kill me,” says Hilary Swank to detective Josh Hartnett in this adaptation of James Ellroy's novel, which pretty much sums up the tone of this rather silly movie. Brian De Palma once made some very well-crafted and entertaining pictures, but despite some elaborate scenic design and the duplication of the forties era, this is not one of his more memorable projects. The picture begins with a long, unnecessary prologue showing us how the detective team of Harnett and Aaron Eckhardt were originally boxers and how they face off against each other in the ring. Before long the two are not only partners but best buddies, forming a loose menage a trois with Eckhardt's girlfriend Scarlet Johansson. [Miss Johansson is either a mediocre actress or to be charitable is simply struggling with an impossible part.] Hilary Swank is much more on the mark as the stereotypical sexy, amoral rich gal, Madelaine, who dallies with Hartnett when he investigates her family in connection with the murder of [the real life] Elizabeth Short. One gets the impression that neither De Palma or anyone else connected to the movie cares that much about Short, The Black Dahlia, or anything else. The script by Josh Friedman is terribly confused and disjointed and the movie takes forever to sustain some interest. There is a hilarious scene in an alleged lesbian nightclub that could only be in a Hollywood movie, with stages and stairs out of Busby Berkeley and k.d. lang making a guest-appearance on the landing as a vocalist surrounded by chorus cuties. The movie has its compelling moments and entertaining scenes but by and large it just doesn't convince. Hartnett and Eckhardt are fine, however, and the picture is nearly stolen by Swank's mother (Fioria Shaw), who gets drunk and bitchy at dinner, to say the least. De Palma doesn't seem to care anymore about camera movements and angles and stylishness, and Black Dahlia can certainly not be seen as a memorial to the dead fifteen-year-old child, Elizabeth Short. The filmmaker doesn't seem to get that she was a minor being exploited by adults, a cyle which this movie seems to be continuing.

MISSION IMPOSSIBLE 3 (2006). Directed by J. J. Abrahms. This is a big improvement on the disappointing, lackluster Mission Impossible 2. Tom Cruise is back as an IMF agent who has decided to leave the field on the eve of his wedding. But various events keep taking him away from the lady in his life, and eventually he's forced to disobey orders so that he can go to her rescue. His main adversary in this is a nasty arms dealer named Davian, played with marvelously intense menace by Philip Seymour Hoffman. Ving Rhames is likable as a fellow agent, and Laurence Fishburne is excellent as IMF Director Brassel, who may or may not be working with Davian. There are many exciting sequences in the film, which is briskly directed by J.J. Abrahms of Alias fame. Highlights include the snatching of Davian from within Vatican city, and a mission to steal a top secret project from a Shanghai skyscraper. While MI3 is by no means a classic, it is certainly an entertaining time-passer. An amusing aspect of the MI movies is that the scripts borrow from old movie serials such as Hurricane Express in that the characters occasionally employ the use of heavy masks as disguises – Cruise becomes Hoffman at one point via a mask – with the other actor substituting for the one in disguise at an appropriate moment. The thing is that whether it's in Hurricane Express or the much more high-tech Mission Impossible 3 it's never believable that anyone would actually be fooled by the mask!

THE DEPARTED (2006). Directed by Martin Scorsese. Whatever strings were pulled behind the scenes, Martin Scorsese managed to pull off a real con on both the critics and public, for his latest picture – almost universally, if sometimes reservedly, acclaimed – is decidedly mediocre despite an excellent premise [borrowed from a foreign film] and some exciting sequences. Basically the mobster Frank Costello – more on that name later – plants an admiring young man whom he helped early in life (Matt Damon) in the Boston police department while the latter follow suit by depositing a young undercover officer (Leonardo DiCaprio) in the Costello camp. Late in the picture – when at last the suspense kicks in to a degree – these two men try to ferret out the identity of the other, with the expected violent results. The main trouble with the film is that this is supposed to be a thriller but the eternally over-rated Scorsese has never been in the same league as Alfred Hitchcock. There is only one stand-out sequence involving the bad guys closing in on a building wherein superior officer Martin Sheen is meeting with his Man On the Inside and a somewhat startling, well-handled homicide ensues. Otherwise the film isn't really awful, just a bit dull and predictable and certainly devoid of the tense and brilliant touches that a Hitchcock could have delivered.

Another problem is the screenplay and its utterly one-dimensional characters. Some older viewers may be confused in the beginning, remembering the real-life mobster Frank Costello who reigned in the fifties and sixties and wondering why the characters use cell phones throughout the movie and even refer to recent events. Jack Nicholson's “Frank Costello” may have been inspired by the real Costello, but clearly he is a different and fictional person of the 21^st century. The “good guys” of the film casually use such terms as “nigger” and “faggot” but the superficial screenplay never explores the inferiority complexes that make people use such discriminatory words in the first place. [Unlike television, this movie basically depicts police officers as all being the desensitized bigots of earlier decades.] Jack Nicholson gives a showy, entertaining performance, but it is essentially another variation of The Joker. The younger actors, yelling out curse words and throwing tantrums, give good performances, but all the tiresome macho posturing is the easiest kind of acting to do. Since there are no real nuances to their characters, the actor's aren't able to add subtleties to their performances, assuming this is something they're even capable of. That being said, Mark Wahlberg is very effective as an especially obnoxious police officer and Martin Sheen and Alec Baldwin are as solid as ever. In the lead roles DiCaprio and Damon are impressive enough in their swagger but never quite overwhelmingly excellent.

Because of the rave reviews, people will flock to see The Departed. But many of them will leave the theater thinking that the latest episode of say, Law and Order: Special Victims Unit had a better story, more dimensional characters, and moved at a swifter and more slickly edited pace. Far from being “cutting edge,” Scorsese – and his adoring critics – are slightly out of date. William Schoell

THE DEVIL WEARS PRADA. A young woman who wants to become a serious journalist inexplicably goes to work for a slick fashion magazine run by the nearly inhuman Meryl Streep, whose personal assistant she becomes. Streep's character emerges as so unpleasant that you can't understand it when the young lady develops any sympathy for her, but she saves her worst loathsomeness for afterward, selling out a supposed friend to save herself. This movie holds the attention in a limited way, but is distinctly minor and not especially funny. Streep isn't bad, Anne Hathaway offers a winning performance as her assistant, and Stanley Tucci plays the stereotypical gay-guy-in-fashion as well as anyone could. [In a sadly hilarious moment, Tucci's character seems to compare fashion designers with the likes of great artists such as Shakespeare or Wagner, although he doesn't mention those particular names.] A big problem with the picture is that in the first half everyone snickers at Hathaway's un-chic fashion sense, but absolutely nobody notices how good-looking she is, which makes little sense. Since most of the characters are superficial and a bit dumb, this forgettable trifle does little to stimulate the mind or anything else.

BROKEBACK MOUNTAIN (2005). Director: Ang Lee. This is based on a novella by Annie Proulx that appeared in The New Yorker in 1997. The story deals with an awkward, stumbling, but affecting love affair between two stoic cowboys, Ennis del Mar (Heath Ledger), and Jack Twist (Jake Gyllenhaal), both of whom marry women and have families while keeping the other in his heart – and having infrequent assignations -- until a tragic conclusion ends their affair forever. The story begins in 1963, when it was much less easy for gays to accept themselves and come out, but these men, especially Ennis, still seem comparatively closeted twenty years later when it was a different story. The film works on two levels: as an examination of the stifling, hypocritical, mendacious half-life inside the closet, and a sub-text of all the emotional damage that men like Ennis and Jack do to the women who innocently love them. The performances from everyone in the cast are excellent, with Ledger particular outstanding, although he doesn't register a strong enough reaction to the devastating news he gets late in the picture. In fact, the film tries a little too hard not to be overly sentimental or manipulative. The screenwriters aren't always on target. Since both del Mar and Twist are essentially homosexual, the movie doesn't have them getting jealous of their various opposite sex involvements, but two people in love would get jealous no matter what the sex of the other lover. The movie doesn't really delve that much into the ironies of the closet [when one says “I'm no queer” after their first sexual experience together, the other replies “Me, neither,” in spite of the fact that he's just taken it up the ass.] The sexual interludes are initially devoid of tenderness, kissing, but become more romantic – but never pornographic – as the film proceeds. Ang Lee proves a better director of dramas than of the action films he's done in the past. Not necessarily a masterpiece, but certainly an interesting, absorbing, and worthwhile motion picture. However, it's hard not to notice that this film doesn't exactly detail a positive, openly gay relationship between two liberated people, which Hollywood still may not be ready for. William Schoell.

FLIGHT PLAN (2005). Director: Robert Schwentke. Jodie Foster is splendid, as usual, as a woman who boards a plane with her young daughter and then spends the rest of the movie trying to convince virtually everyone on board that her daughter actually exists after she disappears and a flight attendant says there's no record of her ever being on the flight. Foster just lost her husband; could she be hallucinating from grief? Is she mentally unstable? Or is there a predator on board who'se taken and hidden her daughter somewhere on the plane? This is a good and very suspenseful movie with some very evil antagonists, but despite Foster's fine performance, it's just an entertaining timepasser. To think what Hitchcock could have done with this material! The climax is over too quickly and a little flat as well, and an opportunity for a rousing cat fight is muffed. But this will hold your attention for certain. Peter Sarsgaard also scores as the deputy on the flight.

MONSTER-IN-LAW (2005). Director: Robert Luketic. Jennifer Lopez thinks she's met the man of her dreams in handsome and successful Michael Vartan, but she didn't count on his having a mother (Jane Fonda) who wants to run almost every aspect of his life, particularly whom he marries. Fonda steals the picture and is excellent as the middle-aged newswoman who's just been replaced by a young bimbo at the network, and has plenty of free time to make life miserable for Lopez – who finally realizes what's up and fights back. Lopez is fine in the movie, as is Vartan [from TV's Alias], but you have to wonder why Vartan's character isn't able to see through his mother and what problems this will cause for Lopez later on. Wanda Sykes may be a limited performer but she's also excellent as Fonda's friend, assistant, and conscience. Late in the picture Elaine Stritch puts in a memorable apperance as Fonda's mother-in-law. A cute, consistently entertaining comedy if not quite a classic. But Fonda looks great and is wonderful!

DEUCE BIGELOW, EUROPEAN GIGOLO (2005). Director: Mike Bigelow [sic]. In this sequel to the amiable, essentially good-natured Deuce Bigelow, Male Gigolo, star/co-writer Rob Schneider tries to do something similar but the results are less than felicitous. Fleeing the country after a stupid accident involving senior citizens, Schneider runs into an old pimp buddy who's aghast when he's suspected of being the male-whore murderer who's been bumping off male prostitutes in Europe. [In a supposed spoof of Holes the dead men are marked with a lipstick kiss.] And even more aghast that people think he's gay [a truly tiresome plot device if ever there were one]. Jeroen Krabbé is the police inspector on the case, and Schneider becomes involved with his lovely niece. [The average-looking stars of movies like this never wind up with passably attractive women who might be realistic partners for them; they always wind up with beauties.] While good taste is hardly the point of movies like this, the fact is that the script is generally too preoccupied with topping each gross out with something even more disgusting instead of being genuinely funny. Parts of the movie come off like the efforts of frat boys who forgot that it's often wise to put your more self-indulgent sequences away in a drawer after getting them out of your system. The movie holds your attention, maybe, but it's hardly anything you'd ever want to sit through again. Schneider's schnook character remains quite likable, however. William Schoell.

BEYOND THE SEA (2004). Director/Co-Writer: Kevin Spacey. This biopic of singer-actor Bobby Darin was clearly a labor of love for Kevin Spacey, who not only co-wrote (with Lewis Colick), directed, and starred in the film, but also does all his own singing – and is excellent at it. For much of its length this is a fairly standard show biz biography, although it has a stylized framework of Darin starring in a movie about himself and discussing with the other actors/characters how to proceed [There is even one outdoor production number like something out of a movie musical]. The movie skirts much of his younger life and brings him to Hollywood and the arms of wife Sandra Dee (Kate Bosworth) pretty quickly. It gets even more interesting when we see how he temporarily “dropped out” and then decided to reinvent himself as a folk singer [although one has to wonder if his singing anti-Viet Nam protest songs reflected his true feelings or was only an attempt to generate a new, younger audience for himself]. This could be dismissed as a “vanity production” for Spacey were it not for the fact that he pulls it off, despite being older than Darin was when he died. Bob Hoskins also gives a wonderful performance, as does Caroline Aaron as his mother, Nina [who pretended to be his sister for most of his life] and William Ullrich as Darin as a boy. The songs are well chosen and whatever its deficiencies the film works beautifully on an emotional level. William Schoell.

ALFIE (2004). Director: Charles Shyer. Jude Law is superb as happy-go-lucky, love 'em and leave 'em Alfie, who has come to New York to make his fortune and bed lots of women. He even winds up going to bed with the woman his best friend loves and hopes to marry. As he puts it, he doesn't mean to hurt anyone, and in truth Alfie is not devoid of a conscience or compassion. One of the best, most touching scenes has him encountering an elderly widower in the men's room of a doctor's office (the doc found a lump on Alfie's penis) who tells him (of his wife) “we weren't all that fond of each other, but we were very close.” New York is certainly full of callow men who use and disrespect women, but Alfie isn't really of the heartless or completely insensitive variety. He's typical of young men who want to sow their oats, avoiding encumbrances, afraid to commit to women who love them because there may be someone even better or more beautiful around the bend – not to mention all those flavors of ice cream that await them. Then of course, the one person who loves them the most and upon whom they can generally depend gets tired of waiting and moves on with someone else – to their regret. Marisa Tomei plays Julie, a young mother who functions as Alfie's “old shoe” but to whom he can't fully commit because she's not quite pretty enough (although he comes to realize how much she really means to him). The script by Shyer and Elaine Pope seems a bit contrived at times to teach the young man a lesson (especially in a scene with spunky Susan Sarandon) and also descends on occasion to suspect sentimentality (Alfie's improbable walk on the beach with the aforementioned widower), but is generally strong. Although there are plenty of love scenes, the movie isn't so much sexy as poignant, with a strong undercurrent of loneliness radiating from many different characters. Mick Jagger has contributed some sassy background songs. A pleasant surprise. William Schoell

OCEAN'S TWELVE (2004). Director: Steven Soderbergh. As the remake of Sinatra's Ocean's 11 was better, cleverer, and more entertaining than the original (if not exactly a world-beater), there were some high hopes that Ocean's Twelve would surpass it. What we have instead is a sporadically entertaining film that goes on too long, is over-complicated, and gets too clever for its own good. The casino boss (Andy Garcia) that the gang robbed in the last picture threatens each member with death if they don't repay him the money they stole – with interest. They now have two weeks to raise or steal 197 million dollars! This brings them into competition with a French master thief in an attempt to steal a priceless Fabergé egg. Catherine Zeta-Jones appears as an old girlfriend of Brad Pitt's who also happens to be a detective, and Julia Roberts is back as George Clooney's wife. To help steal the egg she has to pretend to be -- “Julia Roberts.” [This whole business, in which the real Bruce Willis – who knows the real Julia -- shows up to complicate matters is amusing but threatens to take over the whole picture.] The performances are okay, if minor, and Elliot Gould and Carl Reiner effortlessly steal the show in their few brief scenes. This is not without entertainment value, but it runs out of juice long before the conclusion and is a bit too self-congratulatory. -- William Schoell

SKY CAPTAIN AND THE WORLD OF TOMORROW (2004). Director/writer: Kerry Conran. An unfortunate attempt to recreate the excitement and craziness of the old Republic serials with some high tech effects and computer imagery (so much of it that the movie almost resembles a cartoon). The movie takes place not in the future but circa World War Two, and features a battle between the heroic Sky Captain (Jude Law), a Blackhawk-type mercenary, and the evil Dr. Totenkopf, who attacks New York City with giant robots, and forces scientists to create strange animals (including, inexplicably, an elephant shrunken to the size of a stuffed toy). Totenkopf's plan is to build a space ark that will take his animals off into the cosmos while the Earth itself is vaporized. Helping Sky Captain is the intrepid reporter Polly Perkins (Gyneth Paltrow) and – in what amounts to a bit – female pilot Franky Cook (Angelina Jolie). Giovanni Ribisi is the captain's pal and associate Dex, who is kidnapped at one point. Although there are some fine FX and interesting scenic design and a few exciting moments (including the climax on the space ark) Sky Captain is never as entertaining as any of those old Republic serials, and both continuity and story are stilted, to say the least. Law is better in the heroic part than one would imagine, and Paltrow is also good as his partner-in-peril. The tongue-in-cheek script has some amusing moments, but after awhile its cliches become wearisome. In an improbable bit of stunt casting “Sir Laurence Olivier” is billed as Dr. Totenkopf, although the character turns out to be dead and is only seen as a withered corpse. Did the producers use Lord Olivier's voice? Who cares? Nothing could make this production particularly memorable. Don't expect sequels. -- William Schoell

CLUB DREAD (2004). A mad slasher is on the loose at a “Club Med” type vacation island run by a faded singer named “Coconut Joe” (Bill Paxton). The movie takes quite a while to get going – you'll want to hit “fast forward” pretty early -- and the first half hour seems less a parody than an all-too-typical slasher flick with sexy couples getting stabbed and impaled by a maniac. After awhile there is some fun in the writing and acting, as well as a bit of suspense over the identity of the killer and his motives, so that the film finally begins to hold your attention, and even has a few genuine chuckles. But it is not by any means as entertaining nor as effective as its model, the Scream trilogy of black comedies. The acting is by no means bad, and Paxton is a lot of fun as the aging singer. The severed head rolling around on the record player is a nice touch, and the gruesome if amusing climax is nicely done, although the direction of the film is generally by the numbers. -- William Schoell

SPIDER-MAN 2 (2004). Director: Sam Raimi.

The sequel to Spider-Man is superior to the first film, being made of equal parts action and sentiment, and with – believe it or not -- a subtext of personal responsibility vs. freedom of choice. When Peter Parker realizes that his dual role as Spider-Man is playing havoc with his life (especially his love life) he gets rid of the uniform and vows never to play hero again. [This happened more than once in the comic books, usually at a time of great angst and disappointment, if not worse, for our hero.] His powers, especially his ability to create webs to swing around on [in the comics he uses a device to create webs; it is not an organic power], cuts out on him at inopportune moments due to his mixed emotions over being Spider-Man. Spider-Man recognizes that sometimes “you have to give up your dream” to do the right thing and sets out to fully regain his spider-like abilities. The climax is a thrilling all-out battle between Spider-Man and Doctor Octopus (an excellent Alfred Molina) that features an eye-popping, harrowing conflict on a runaway elevated subway train. The film even manages to be moving at times (the music doesn't hurt), although to many viewers it may only seem on a sappy, Hallmark greeting card level. The screenplay has its dopey and outrageously contrived moments. Determined not to be a hero, Peter walks by an alley where several toughs are beating up one man, and, while troubled, keeps on walking. Surely it's possible for him to come to someone's rescue without dressing up in an ostentatious outfit! Later, he confesses to his Aunt May that he didn't bother to stop the criminal who later murdered her husband. Surely his aunt, who is unaware of his Spider-Man powers, would have told him that if he'd tried to stop the man he would only have been shot just like his uncle was. Still, this is not quite as maddeningly juvenile or idiotic as many other super-hero films. In fact, it's quite entertaining, although certainly not for everyone. The FX are generally excellent and exciting, although there are times when Spider-Man just seems to be an unreal cartoon figure hurtling through the sky. Tobey Maquire (Peter/Spider-Man), Kirsten Dunst (Mary Jane Watson), and James Franco (Norm Osborne Jr.) are all quite good, as is the rest of the supporting cast. -- William Schoell

INTOLERABLE CRUELTY (2004).

George Clooney is a highly successful and cut-throat divorce lawyer who represents a middle-aged man (the always excellent Edward Herrmann) in his divorce from a beautiful gold-digger (Catherine Zeta-Jones). The wife embarks on a clever campaign to outwit the lawyer and outwit him she does. Although Clooney and Zeta-Jones are better at this type of stuff than you might expect (neither of them is exactly a great actor but Zeta-Jones is certainly appropriately cast), and there are some genuine laugh-out-loud moments in the movie, this modern-day screwball piece is not exactly Bringing Up Baby – in other words it's okay, but hardly a classic. Another problem is that both of the main characters are thoroughly unlikable people despite their charm. Zeta-Jones in particular doesn't have any of the endearing qualities that would make her heartless opportunist more palatable. But the movie is essentially harmless and easy to take. -- William Schoell

LOVE, ACTUALLY (2004). Writer/Director: Richard Curtis. Curtis wrote the screenplay for the more successful (if unspectacular) Four Weddings and a Funeral; directing his own screenplay this time he's much too self-indulgent, with no one to rein him in. There have been many fine films over the years that mix a variety of characters and try somehow to pull them all together, but despite some memorable moments of charm and humor this one doesn't quite work. Some of the interlocking storylines include a widower (Liam Neeson) who encourages his very young stepson to pursue the girl of his dreams; a new prime minister (Hugh Grant) who has a personal assistant removed from his office because he's simply too attracted to her; and a married woman, Grant's sister (Emma Thompson), who discovers that her husband is falling for a woman at his office; and so on. There's also an aging rock star who has one last hit and realizes the only person he really loves (platonically) is his obese manager; and a handsome young man at a wedding who is obsessed not with the groom, as we're sort of led to believe, but with the very lovely bride. (Although Curtis included a long-term gay couple in Funeral, in this picture they are conspicuous by their total absence.) Curtis was obviously attempting a labor of love [pun intended], making a film that illustrates the point that there's an awful lot of love in the world despite all the ugliness in the headlines, but some of his ideas should have been jettisoned before they left the printed page. The bit with two porn actors who fall for each other never quite jells, and the sub-plot about the frustrated London lad who finally gets laid in America is handled in a ridiculous “frat boy” fashion. Neeson encouraging his eleven-year-old son to dash past airport security just so he can say good-bye to a little girl he's never even spoken to before borders on the utterly ludicrous – and dumb. Some viewers will suspend disbelief and enjoy this movie thoroughly, but a more thoughtful, if equally romantic, viewer may find that the overlong film offers much less “love” than it ought to. Bottom line: It will hold your attention but you won't necessarily be happy that you sat through it. -- William Schoell

DOWN WITH LOVE. (2003).

Renee Zellweger and Ewan McGregor star in this imitation of old Doris Day/Rock Hudson “sex comedies” directed by Peyton Reed. Although the munchkin-like, quirky, acquired taste Zellweger has turned my stomach in other movies, in this she seems well-cast and is quite good as the author of a book which urges women to forget all about love and concentrate on careers and equality. She actually wrote the book for a quite different reason, however, in a twist that temporarily makes nonsense of her feminist viewpoint. McGregor is also quite good as a playboy/stud/magazine writer who refuses to take Zellweger and her book seriously until it becomes a big hit and all of his babes are too busy with job advancement to pay any attention to him. He pretends to be someone else to get close to her and expose her as a fake, but Zellweger has the last laugh. This is a good-natured, often amusing, never quite hilarious, very light comedy that slavishly imitates the tone and interiors of the Day-Hudson-Ross Hunter movies of the sixties (during which Down with Love wisely takes place). Verdict: Not bad, but borrow the DVD from the library. -- W.S.

MYSTIC RIVER (2004). Director: Clint Eastwood. Since he's always been perceived as a Hollywood conservative it's amusing that Eastwood teamed up with two famous Hollywood liberals, Sean Penn and Tim Robbins, to make this disappointing feature. Three little boys playing in the street are interrupted by an intense fellow whom they imagine is a cop. He takes one of the three into his car and the boy isn't seen until he escapes from the creep three days later. Flash forward to when all three men are grown and the daughter of one of them – Sean Penn's character – is found murdered in a park. That same night Tim Robbins – he was the boy who was kidnapped and molested years earlier -- comes home to his wife covered in blood. Much of what happens next is quite predictable, and the script offers few real surprises to a wide-awake viewer. Eastwood directs with professional assurance if not a lot of inspiration; mostly he just lets the actors do the work. Tim Robbins is simply superb, completely losing himself in his tormented character, but Sean Penn, generally one of our best actors, is getting sloppy. Penn never seems to get a handle on his character and falls back into a standard bag of tricks that are highly unsatisfying. Kevin Bacon is okay as the third grown-up kid, now a homicide investigator. Mystic River is an awkward blend of mystery with mobster drama and doesn't quite work as either despite some interesting moments and performances from Robbins and a generally fine supporting cast. The ending of this film should horrify, sadden and appall, but it does none of those. Apparently Eastwood is another one of these directors who wrongly fears that emotional intensity reduces a film to a mere soap opera. Mystic River isn't much of anything. -- William Schoell

LORD OF THE RINGS: RETURN OF THE KING (2004). Director: Peter Jackson. At first it may seem that this is a film – like the first two in the series – that can best be appreciated by Tolkien addicts who are familiar with every page of the books and re-read them repeatedly. However, once the movie gets going – and if you pay attention and don't resist its pull – anyone can see that this is quite a cinematic achievement, possibly better than the first two films put together. Some might suggest that it panders too much to the alleged glory of war while others might see it as saluting the nobility of fighting evil against impossible odds. The spectacular battle scenes have enough compelling and fantastic aspects to keep them from becoming tiresome: the attack of the giant elephants crushing everything underfoot; the catapult of massive rock slabs (and an earlier sequence when severed human heads are catapulted over a wall); the great dragons attacking the soldiers on horseback and carrying some of them off; the Army of the Dead enlisted by Aragorn etc. Of course, there are so many players and forces that it's sometimes hard to remember who's fighting whom. The towering rock stairs that lead up to Gandor is a nice touch, but the most horrific bit has to do with the giant spider, Shelub, who nearly makes a meal of Frodo (Elijah Wood). Glistening and beautifully articulated, this gruesome, gray monster creeps up silently on Frodo (in a very chilling sequence) and stabs him with his hook. Then follows a very effective scene with Sean Astin battling the creature to the death. After two earlier attempts Peter Jackson's direction seems more assured, and the effects work is simply outstanding throughout. Some magnificent sets go by too quickly, however, to be fully appreciated. Gollem/Smeagol remains a fascinating creation, and the acting by the entire cast is first-rate. Howard Shore's music is extremely effective this time out. The movie also features some honest sentiment – was there a dry eye in the house when Frodo took his last voyage out of Middle Earth? Despite some problematic aspects, this is very nice indeed. -- William Schoell

LORD OF THE RINGS: THE TWO TOWERS (2003). Director: Peter Jackson. As with the first installment, the scenic design, special effects, and sweeping vistas are mighty impressive, but only die-hard Tolkien fans are going to be all that carried up in the story. That said, the actors do a fine job filling their fantasy roles with life, and there are other interesting creatures. Gollum, who mourns the loss of the ring and always speaks of it as his “precious,” is a fascinating computer creation (with the help of an actor's splendid emoting); the ents – trees that walk and talk – are similarly inspired; and the spectacular Sauron Dragon puts in an appearance late – very late – in the picture. The scenes leading up to the epic battle with the orcs as the latter besiege humans who have taken shelter is suspenseful and ominous, although the battle scenes – and many others – are occasionally confusing. There's a marvelous flood that nearly carries away the talking tree-men, and the relationship between Frodo and his buddy Samwise is rather touching. But the story doesn't really have enough substance to sustain over three hours in running time, and no amount of spectacular scenery and effects can make up for an essential hollowness at its core. -- William Schoell

LORD OF THE RINGS: FELLOWSHIP OF THE RING (2002). Director: Peter Jackson.

In the first installment of the “Lord of the Rings” trilogy, young Frodo (Elijah Wood) takes possession of the all-important ring from Bilbo Baggins, and sets off with a number of comrades – hobbits, dwarves, and so on, as well as the wizard Gandalf (Ian McKellan) – to deliver the sinister ring (which can bring out the very worst in people) to a place of safety. Along the way he must enter the sinister underground domain of the dwarves where he's almost snatched away by a tentacled monster in a lake, and then he and his comrades must battle a horde of bloodthirsty Orcs – not to mention the overpowering evil influence of the ring itself (which once belonged to the dark nemesis Sauron, who is about to rise again, plunging all of “middle-earth” into chaos). This film probably brings Tolkien's imaginative and atmospheric story to life better than previous versions, but let's face it – Shakespeare it ain't. Some people will greatly admire the often stunning visual quality of the film – awe-inspiring settings and designs – while others will find it all too silly and trivial for words. Watching the movie it's easy to forget that all this comic book-ish stuff actually pre-dates comic books, and it all seems over-familiar because of all the writers, filmmakers and others who over the decades have “borrowed” Tolkien's basic ideas in their own works of popular culture. Nevertheless, no amount of money or high-class production values can quite do away with its generally juvenile tone. As a director, Jackson is only so so – the battle scenes aren't put together with any great skill and he even relies several times on that hoariest of devices, slow motion. The film is slow starting, but rather entertaining once it gets going. The actors are so good, especially a perfectly cast Elijah Wood and an exemplary McKellan, that they manage to steal attention from the well-done special effects (the aforementioned octopus monster is a pip!]. [And it's a pleasure to see Christopher Lee in a major supporting role as a Sauron advocate.] Howard Shore's musical score is only acceptable. {This review is based on the extended DVD version.}-- William Schoell

DEATH AND THE MAIDEN (1994). Director: Roman Polanski. In a country that is probably meant to be Chile, a chance encounter leads a doctor (Ben Kingsley) who possibly tormented and raped a political prisoner (Sigourney Weaver) years ago to her door on the very eve of her husband (Stuart Wilson) being appointed to a commission to track down those guilty of such abuses. Unfortunately, the commission only plans to target people who actually killed their victims, so Weaver is afraid her own tormentor will never be brought to justice. To her husband's consternation, she captures Kingsley and puts him on “trial.” But could Kingsley possibly be innocent as he says? Although this is clearly based on a three-character stage play, Polanski “opens” it up as much as possible, and there are moments of suspense and tension. Unfortunately, much of the picture rests on the shoulders of heroine Weaver, who is simply not up to the challenge. Weaver can be quite effective when she's all “butch” and no-nonsense in those Alien horror films [she was probably cast in this because of the scenes wherein she has to play all tough and menacing] but in more serious movies her limitations are all too obvious. While she does have her moments, to be fair, she is nowhere on the level of the masterful Kingsley, and neither is Wilson. Still, the story is powerful and the ending – in its own quiet way – horrific. This is another illustration of the “banality of evil” and the loathsomeness that can hide behind the surface of the so-called kind and loving family man. -- William Schoell.