The Smurfs (2011)

In the live-action/CGI hybrid “Smurfs” film, our Belgian-born heroes – blue, three apples high and each named for a character trait – are zapped to New York City, with evil wizard Garagmel in tow. There Papa, Smurfette, Brainy and – oh, you know what? Smurf this. I barely sat through the film, why bother with details. It took four screenwriters plus innumerable studio heads to drum up jokes about Smurfette as gang-banger, and toss the word “Smurf” into every sentence, and it’s from the director of “Scooby Doo.” Obnoxious even by kiddie fare standards. Record-breaking product placement. A New York so bland it could be the town I live in. Blah Smurf blah. Random thought: In all of New York, why must our heroes land in the arms of a white yuppie couple (Neil Patrick Harris and Jayma Mays)? Be it “Alvin and the Chipmunks” or “Garfield,” “Marmaduke” or “Yogi Bear,” or even “The Muppets,” these pop culture throw-back affairs -- mostly based on older comic strips or cartoons -- play like a master class in the “Master Race.” So few people of color. Over-reaction? Prove me wrong. D+

Real Steel (2011)

“Real Steal” is a deft genre mash-up: “Rocky” meets “Transformers,” with a heavy dose of “The Champ” tacked on for good measure, and Hugh Jackman in the lead. My film snob tastes melted away. The boy inside me cheered. The simple story: In the near future, human boxing is outlawed, replaced by a Michael Bay fever dream: Massive robot boxers going at each other like Ali and Foreman in the ring, no blood or brain damage, just busted-up (and recyclable) metal junk. Jackman is an ex-boxer named Charlie who has gone from dishing and taking KO’s in the ring to running robot boxers for hayseed crowds. Here comes the Underdog Redemption kick as Charlie has an estranged son named Max who, A) Needs a dad after mom dies, and B) Happens to be a junior engineer and avid gamer. Hokey? Much. So what. This is a CGI-heavy effects film that doesn’t let computer wizardly bulldoze story and character. During the climax, Shawn Levy’s camera pans away from the robot action and focuses on the human players instead. We care about these people, lead robot Atom is a blast, and as Max, Dakota Goyo upstages Jackman and the CGI. KO. A-

War Horse (2011)

As a director, Steven Spielberg has been known to lay it on thick: Heinz 57 on shepherd’s pie. Sometimes it goes wrong: “Amistad” was weakened by obvious speechifying. But the great many of his dramas are draw-dropper movie epics -- the kind of big screen behemoths that inspired man to build movie palaces so a few hundred people could sit together and stare at light on a screen, and be carried away. Sometimes for joy and escape, other times to see a tear-jerker story of triumph over tragedy, or just the tragedy. Think “Saving Private Ryan,” or for my 13-year-old self in 1987, “Empire of the Sun.”

“War Horse” is among the later, an unabashedly, unapologetic and amazing big-screen World War I drama about a boy-turned-man and his horse that recalls a 1950s Techicolor epic long gone from cinemas, but with an important distinction, there is no glorification of war here. Rather, the carnage of war is more likely to break a man’s soul than leave him square-jaw John Wayne heroic. (Fact: Most of the war films of the 1940s through 1960s were propaganda flicks, designed to get young men to suit up and die for their country. Wise, bold liberal filmmakers ended that genre. Wayne and his patriotism-at-all-costs ilk were mad, and on the outs. “Green Berets” included.)

Albert Narracott (Jeremy Irvine) is a Brit teen who witnesses a thoroughbred foal being born, and instantly falls for the creature. The horse is bought by Albert’s father to serve as a plow horse, an unwise, but moot decision: For Joey, the horse, is conscripted to serve in World War I. Albert follows. From there, cinematographer Janusz Kaminski drops his sun-bright color palate and sinks Joey, Albert, and us, into an ashen and poison-gas-filled hell, as Joey is traded from one owner to the next, a British officer to two German Army youths to a young French girl, and on.

Is there a happy ending? Spielberg’s films almost always fall that way, and this is no different, but the path to the final “magic hour” shot is ghastly, full of the cruelty of mechanized war against humanity and nature, mud, barbed wire, blood, and much, much death. Going for mature older children and young teens, Spielberg pulls back on the gore and splatter to … great effect. We have experienced “Saving Private Ryan,” its endless up-close visceral bloodbaths, so the camera is set atop a windmill to shows two boys being shot point blank, the blade hiding the impact as bullets rip through flesh. And, damn if the entire audience didn’t gasp and shudder. I sure as hell did.

Oh, Spielberg is grandiose and sentimental without mercy, and John Williams’ old-fashioned score pulls out the full orchestra, and whips and pulls for every emotion, but when Joey is running shell-shocked and horrified through a godless battlefield, ripping through barbed wire, cut to pieces, the guy who made “E.T.” back in 1982 reduced me once again to blubber. Critics be warned, this is Hollywood film-making at its best. Horse enthusiasts be warned, this is a bloody film with ceaseless animal cruelty (faked and CGI'd, thank the gods). A

Legend of the Guardians: The Owls of Ga'Hoole (2010)

“Legend of the Guardians: The Owls of Ga'Hoole” is one of the best-looking animated tales I have ever seen: Golden hues of sunlight abound, and our owl heroes and villains at the center of this fantasy adventure are computer-animated with such jaw-dropping precision that the details of feathers and the glint of eyes make one stare with childish glee. But “Legend” is a wash, a gorgeous body with an empty soul. The story is based on a series of books, so far be it for me to proclaim this a rip-off of “Star Wars” and “Chronicles of Narnia,” but I’ll do it anyway, as our tale follows two brother owls (Jim Sturgess and Ryan Kwanten on voices) who fall into the clutches of an evil owl queen, with one sibling summiting to her will, and the other escaping to join a heroic rebel alliance. Bonus Lucas points: There’s a wise old warrior owl and an evil metal-masked owl. They duel. For all of director Zack Snyder’s (“300”) visual delights, I was constantly trying to sort out which owl was which, especially during a climatic aerial fight that left me squawking “Hoo?” “Hoo?” “Who!?!” Thankfully not out loud. C+

The Adventures of Tin-Tin (2011)

When Steven Spielberg said he was making a Tin-Tin movie, I was stoked. I was born in England, and although I can’t recall my time there, I did inherit piles of “Tin-Tin” books. The boy reporter and his little white dog, Snowy, are huge there. In America? Not so much. Which is why “The Adventures of Tin-Tin” crumpled at U.S. cinemas. Despite the Spielberg name, some of the best motion-cap animation ever made and 3D effects that make the format a blast of wondrous pop-up fun. The plot is Tin-Tin simple, and very “Young Indiana Jones”: Our ginger hero buys a model ship on a lark and gets wrapped up in a worldwide conspiracy that nearly gets him (and his little dog, too!) killed. Spielberg works with physics-defying action as if he’s thrilled not to worry about reality. It’s all too much, but this is a boy’s adventure. How else to explain a 120-pound boy fighting men three times his size? Bummer news: The ending is a let-down, a promise of cinematic godliness left to a sequel. Jamie Bell is Tin-Tin, Andy Serkis is a drunken ship captain, and Daniel Craig (smartly nasty!) the villain. B+

Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy (2011)

I read John Le Carre’s “Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy” long ago, and was stoked for a film version. That I barely remembered the plot helped. I was not bogged down as I watched Gary Oldman almost wordlessly soar to his best screen performance as the aging/defeated/solemn George Smiley, a spy who realizes his life was pissed away trying to dig up shit intel on the Russkies. The story: Oldman’s Smiley is tasked with finding a mole in The Circus, MI:6. His suspects include fellow spooks so high up, they hold onto power with an Iron Fist, their noses up the rear of the American CIA. As with many of 2011’s best films, this is a story of a person taking stock of his life and lost chances. This is a dark, grimy, and quiet film, startled with bloody violence. You can feel this film waft off the screen -- the dust and tweed jackets, and stink of a rotting body. The mood is by director Thomas Alfredson, the woefully hurried complex screenplay by the late Bridget O'Connor and Peter Straughan, a married couple. This is no feel-good “Mission: Impossible” thriller, but a spy-mood killer, and a damn good one. A-

2011: Best and Worst

This is my Best (and Worst) of 2011 List so far. Most of the Oscar bait have not come my way yet, and for those that have, I have not had the time to watch. Such is life. This list will be updated, changed and purged multiple times when I see films worthy (or, for the bottom, not).

First update: 26 February 2012
Second update: 14 March 2012
Third update: 19 March 2012
Fourth update: 29 April 2012
Fifth update: 9 May 2012
Sixth update: 25 August 2012

The Best
1. Tree of Life. The year’s head-scratching-ist film is king: A drama about the creation of the universe, God, and one family’s birth and shattering. A near religious experience from Terrence Malick.
2. Melancholia. A twisted sister to No. 1, this equally head-scratching film is about the death of all life, by Lars von Trier. Darkly beautiful.
3. A Separation. Writer/director Asghar Farhadi’s tale of two families at odds in modern Iran is universal, painful, and a slam of theocracies.
4. (Tie) The Artist and Hugo. Directors Michel Hazanavicius and Martin Scorsese create two wildly different films celebrating cinema and life.
5. Tinker Tailor Solider Spy. Gary Oldman gives the performance of his career as an aging spy in a game that takes your life, now or later.
6. Take Shelter. Michael Shannon plays a man stricken by either schizophrenia or divine knowledge. The question: Are they the same?
7. Shame Michael Fassbender stars in a cold, brilliant tale of man tortured by sex, the liquid inside him. More NC-17s, please, Hollywood.
8. Midnight in Paris. Woody Allen uses literary and artistic greats and a time travel trick to remind us that, no, life was not better back then.
9. 13 Assassins. Takashi Miike’s kick-ass, bloody violent samurai film is a throwback to Kurosawa's greatest sword romps. Nasty fun.
10. (Tie) Cave of Forgotten Dreams and Pina. Directors Werner Herzog and Wim Wenders takes us on two inspiring journeys, inside a cave and inside a dancer’s mind, to see art at its grandest and purest.

The Worst
5. Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close. A feel-good 9/11 movie about a mentally ill boy reconnecting quirky-like with his dead dad. Fuck no.
4. J. Edgar. Because of the scene where FBI director/dictator Hoover – played by Leonardo DiCaprio -- wears his mother’s dress and pearls.
3. (Tie) Just Go With it, Jack and Jill, and Zookeeper. Adam Sandler spreads his toxic film-making sensibilities to Nicole Kidman, Al Pacino, and Nick Nolte, the latter getting it easy as the voice of a gorilla.
2. Green Hornet. Star Seth Rogen and director Michel Gondry toss a snickering “F.U.” to comic-book movie fans. Right back at you guys.
1. Sucker Punch. Zack Snyder calls this a feminist shot against misogyny. Right, and “Birth of a Nation” is a call for Civil Rights.

Melancholia (2011)

Ditching the 200-word limit count here, this film deserves the attention…

“Melancholia” is about nothing less than the shocking, smothering power of depression on the human psyche and the end of all life on Earth as know it, and writer/director Lars von Trier welcomes that end with open arms.

“The Earth is evil. … Nobody will miss it,” he says, through the mouth of his “heroine,” Justine, played marvelously and bravely by Kirsten Dunst.

This film – shocking, maddening, infuriating, heartbreaking and brilliant even when it derails off the tracks in spectacular fashion – is the twisted sister of “Tree of Life,” 2011’s other film about the universe, God, and a shattered family.

Important note: von Trier does not believe in God. Sub-note: This is not a date film.

Von Trier opens with the end of the Earth, as a massive planet -- previously hidden behind the sun -- coined by the press as Melancholia makes its way toward Earth, drifting, and then smashing our planet into bits.

Between scenes of cosmic death, he shows us Justine and her family in their final moments, both in reality, and inside their scarred souls and minds, as they face annihilation. The chunk of film – on first viewing -- is inexplicable and scored loud to Wagner’s “Tristan and Isolde.”

(A second viewing is a must, and a revelation. On the big screen. With big sound.)

We then flashback months to an equally massive disaster, Justine’s wedding, as she and her new husband (Alexander Skarsgard) arrive at a reception at her sister’s rural mansion. She looks to the night sky and sees a red star, and also – in her mind – death and hopelessness. Justine truly believes herself to be, and her world crumbles.

The reception spirals out of control as the bride drifts into a deep depressed state, one her broken family knows too well, and commits heinous acts as a way to bring on the end, her end, full tilt. Sister Claire (Charlotte Gainsbourg) can only attempt to help. Weeks later Justine moves in with Claire and her husband (Kiefer Sutherland, never better as a self-righteous prick).

Similar to Melancholia smashing Earth, Justine’s arrival lays ruin to the family of wife, husband and young son.

Unsettling and uncomfortable from first to last frame, this plays as von Trier’s most personal film, his ode to his own depression. His Justine is unaffected by the pending doom of Melancholia, for her world already has ended. Justine grows strong as her sister falls to despair.

Von Trier – having previously made the grim as hell but wildly imaginative “Breaking the Waves” and “Dancer in the Dark” -- is a madman for sure, a complete jerk by all accounts, and a cretin. But he’s a master filmmaker. Who says Vincent van Gogh was cordial?

The scope of this small epic comes into orbit of the giant Terrence Malick epic “Tree of Life,” touches it. The films would make a perfect double of much majesty, and not a small bit of artistic madness. Von Trier was off his meds when he made this, and was at Cannes.

Von Trier’s miracle move is to make a nightmarish wedding reception seem like the end of the world, only to show us the end of the world, and he makes every moment – even the ugliest ones – a work of artistic beauty.

As for Dunst, she of the recent “Spider-Man” films, she shines bright as a woman so smothered in darkness, so weakened she can barely rise from bed.

In the end, you will want to cheer von Trier, or punch him in the face, but you will react. Strongly. That, folks, is what art is supposed to do.

And “Melancholia” is art. A

The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo (2011)

Back in early 2010, the Swedish film of “The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo” – original onscreen title “Men Who Hate Women” – was released in the United States. I loved the grisly Euro thriller about a disgraced journalist teaming with an emotionally scarred female hacker to solve a 40-year-old murder. Now the Americanized remake (re-adaptation?) arrives from director David Fincher, still set in Sweden, but with bigger names. Daniel Craig is the journalist, and Rooney Mara (“Social Network”) is Lisbeth, the hacker. This rock-solid take has a dark chilly mood to spare, and presents a more complex Lisbeth, a woman who has cut herself off from the world, calculating and scarily brilliant, but prone to still sadly eat Happy Meals. Mara makes the role her own, a bundle of disjoints and razor edges, silently raging. She rocks. Yes, it is disconcerting to see big-name actors traipse around in Swedish snow so soon after seeing other actors speak their own language in their own land, but Craig is oddly effective (and nerdy) as an everyman in deep turmoil. Scripter Steven Zallian smartly condenses the long post-climax. Still, check out the original, a true gut-puncher. 2011: A-

Mission: Impossible -- Ghost Protocol (2011)

Never discount Tom Cruise. Whatever his quirks, he is a blazing fireball on screen, and his latest Ethan Hunt outing -- “Mission: Impossible – Ghost Protocol” according to the credits, but “Mission: Impossible: There’s an App for That” by my reckoning from the countless Apple plugs -- is the best of the series. Brad Bird, director of animated hit “The Incredibles,” has fashioned the Hollywood Action Film of 2011, a spectacle of stunts – from the side of Dubai’s Burj Khalife skyscraper to a high-rise robotic car park in central Mumbai – that boggles the mind because I’ll be damned if I could see the CGI seams. Using IMAX cameras, Bird makes a packed theater gasp in wonder at the high heights and then wince at every plummet. The plot shenanigans are mostly second-rate as Hunt and his M:I team (Paula Patton, Simon Pegg and Jeremy Renner) hunt a madman (Michael Nyqvist) who sees nuclear war as humanity’s best hope. Renner’s dull agent is so badly written, you can see hope die in the actor’s eyes when he has to speak. But the stunts and action atop the world’s tallest building are for the ages. Witness Cruise re-born as an unstoppable movie star. A-

Insidious (2011)

American-made horror flicks, especially ones rated PG-13, are a dime-a-dozen and pointless as alcohol-free beer. The urge to shock and cut a swath through the audience is undone by the need to ensure 12-year-olds can get in. “Insidious” is an exception. Dig it: Ghosts and ghouls rule your new dream house, but it isn’t the home that’s haunted. It’s your child. Spooky. That’s the premise that drives our parent heroes (Patrick Wilson and Rose Byrne) to tumble desperate into the arms of some ghost busters straight out of “Poltergeist.” Dig it further: Imagine, guys, coming home to see our wife talking to your own mother … and a priest. (I’d shit myself.) As with “Poltergeist,” what we don’t see is the real shocker, not blasé gore. The rating lulled me in, and the film whacked me on the head, “Sixth Sense” style. Too many scenes at the end are dark to the point of murky (and baffling) confusion, and the villain is murkier, but “Insidious” had me up at 3 a.m., listening for spooked baby monitors we do not own. B

Morning Glory (2010)

“Broadcast News” for the Kardashian Age. “Morning Glory” is a sweet woman-at-work-rom-com, with bright-as-the-sun Rachel McAdams as a Jersey girl-turned-TV-producer bounced to the New York A.M. news circus. Not “Today,” or “Good Morning, America,” but a bottom-rung show called “Daybreak,” with a pervy egotist (Ty Burrell) and a prima donna (Diane Keaton) as the leads. Out goes the creep, and in comes once-great news anchor Mike Pomeroy (Harrison Ford), dragged kicking and glaring by McAdams’ hap-hap-happy Becky Fuller. The film takes limp wimp shots at the news-or-glitter debate that befuddles newscasters, yet takes a full dive with an answer that is pure Reality TV Hollywood: Who cares about content, as long as people are buying. I’m not shocked. The rom-com is similarly dull as Patrick Wilson as Mr. Right for Ms. Fuller is so nice-guy blank, the character could have been played by Wilson the Ball from “Cast Away.” The cast saves the day. Ford plays his infamous cold personality to great effect, and Keaton is bubbly and winning, as she always is on camera. B-

Robin Hood: Men in Tights (1993)

Why make a spoof of “Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves,” when Kevin Costner’s performance was its own piece of trash-art comedy, a knitting needle in the ear of anyone whose blood runs remotely English? But, Mel Brooks dishes up “Robin Hood: Men in Tights” anyway, and it’s a tired comedy that traipses out of Sherwood and over to Queens, New York, for a useless “Godfather” joke. Meow! Other Robin Hoods are spoofed, and, yes, Monica Lewinsky is referenced. Eww. Worse than the worst bits of “Spaceballs,” and miles below the heights of Brooks’ “Young Frankenstein,” “Blazing Saddles” and “The Producers,” this is just dullsville. Cary Elwes is ordered to play a dull version of his own Robin Hood hero from “The Princess Bride,” a classic genre spoof all its own. When Brooks went soft his films turned from “Must watch” to “Nothing else is on.” I saw this in the theater, and hated it. My second viewing … ohh, shame on me. C-