Now You See Me (2013)

As a comic book geek, I love the crop of summer superhero flicks. This year alone, “Iron Man 3” and “Man of Steel” roar loud, and more Avengers and Spider-Man are on the way. But it’s a genre that is now well-worn, so all the more welcome to “Now You See Me,” what I call a One-Upper Film. That is, a group of great actors play out action -– here’s it’s magicians bent on Robin Hood thievery and the FBI agent on the hunt –- as they try to outsmart, out-trick, and show off to one another. Not just as characters they play, but as actors, too. Yes, CGI and big explosions abound, but “Now” is about the cast: Sharp curious eyes and bows of pleasurable worship as Woody Harrelson, Mark Ruffalo, Jesse Eisenberg, Morgan Freeman, and Michael Caine, among others, show off for us and themselves on camera. Director/ writer Louis Leterrier’s complicated, can you top me?, magic trick plot pitches illusion, flashbacks, and double- and triple-takes, and it all may not stand up to deep scrutiny, but damn, I dug this. A wild card summer hit that’s as popcorn bright fun as “Prestige” –- another magic tale with Caine -– was dark. A-

42 (2013)

The story of Jackie Robinson -– the first African-American to cross the color line in baseball and swing a bat at a bunch of white guys –- needs no embellishments. It is one of the greatest of American stories, a man finding love, fame, strength, and most vital of all respect after sustaining unspeakable hate. But in Hollywood, every story needs a rewrite. OK, writer/director Brian Helgeland (he co-wrote “L.A. Confidential”) has a good film with “42,” and I cheered on newcomer Chadwick Boseman as Robinson, despite knowing every outcome, but the “clap here!” music score deafens, Robinson is treated like Jesus, and the go-capitalists! whack-off vibe reeks. Never mind the stock side characters: The gold-hearted mentor (Harrison Ford), the bus loads of reject bigots, and the one guy who must be reborn. “42” hits high marks, though, when it shows baseball as a, yes, glorious American pastime (long past?), but one marked with sin, as is all of America. Check the scenes across the American Northeast –- not just the South -– that show the extent of prejudice, and awe when rage overtakes Robinson. In Philly. Well done that. The title, and all its meanings, is simple brilliance. B

Hansel and Gretel: Witch Hunters (2013)

Pissing at a massive plot hole in a “reboot” of the Grimm Brothers fairy tale that takes two kiddies who kill a witch inside a candy house, and ages them into black leather, machine-gun-toting adult brother and sister bounty hunters of Medieval Times is … well, futile. But in “Hansel and Gretel: Witch Hunters,” we are asked to swallow a cauldron of brain sludge reeking of inanity. Mainly: Is it likely two adult siblings  cannot recognize their hometown, and for the villagers not to recognize their own two legendary celebrity offspring named Hansel and Gretel now grownup as two celebrity witch-killing adults named Hansel and Gretel? Um, no. The actors seen unsure. Jeremy Renner (bored mode) and Gemma Arterton (just rollin’ with it) are the titular characters in what may have been at one point a sick LOL incest-heavy live-action “Road Runner” gore-fest spoof, but the studio blinked. At 1 hour 20 minutes, it shows near-fatal edit flaws and can’t dodge a scene where Hansel can’t dodge a boulder that bounces when he hits it. I have no clue what writer/director Tommy Wirkoloa (“Dead Snow”) is aiming for, but this is one sticky mess. C-

The Da Vinci Code (2006)

Here’s my deal with “The Da Vinci Code,” the box-office smash based on the Dan Brown best-seller. Legions of Christians gnawed their fists off because book and film dared shove an Easter Egg history shocker that Jesus Christ was married to Mary Magdalene inside a ridiculous 10-cent thriller about a professor of (snooze) symbology. But why? Both open thusly: At the Louvre, an albino monk  assassin (!) point-blank shoots an old man in the stomach, but grandpa rises and walks about, no blood, moving artwork and leaving arcane blue-light clues for the professor hero, and THEN strips naked, and sprawls out Da Vinci Vitruvian Man style, and dies without moving a twitch. If you can get past any of that to get pissy over Jesus’ sex life, than you need prayer. And brains. And I just touched on the plot holes. Some say “Code” attacks faith. Bull. It attacks thought. The Bible, with all its wonder, is more logical. Ron Howard directs on autopilot, Tom Hanks is adequate as the hero, and Audrey Tautou (“Amelie”) tries out English as the heroine. The sole highlight: Hans Zimmer’s fantastic score. It works miracles. D+

Alex Cross (2012)

Halfway through watching a shocking dull and vacant Tyler Perry sleepwalk his way through playing James Patterson’s famed detective “Alex Cross,” the actor who should be playing the role arrives for a cameo that kills. Giancarlo Esposito. You know his face. “Breaking Bad.” “Usual Suspects.” He scorches screen as a mob boss called on by Cross as the stalwart detective sinks to “Untouchables” methods to bag the psychotic assassin/kick boxer/artist (!!) who killed his wife. That’s the main plot, set up by a starved-looking Matthew Fox (“Lost”) as the thrice-talented loon slow-tortures and kills a woman and then goes gonzo across Detroit in a mysterious spree that leads to a massively unsurprising conspiracy of typical James Patterson pedigree. But forget the forgettable plot. Back to Perry. Love or hate his “Madea” films, he is undeniably entertaining, and can own a screen. Here, he’s outclassed by furniture. A stiff on moving legs, sans zombie makeup. Is he tired? Put off by the rough (but PG-13) material laid out by director Rob Cohen? I have no idea. “Cross” opens DOA, and save Esposito’s blip, stays a flatliner. D

The Place Beyond the Pines (2013)

“The Place Beyond the Pines” is a rare piece of work, a three-act morality crime thriller heavy on family throes, modeled -– in scope, length, and music-heavy beat -- on “Heat,” but subbing tiny New York town called Schenectady (great name!) for sprawling  Los Angeles. Director/co-writer Derek Cianfrance (“Blue Valentine”) casts Ryan Gosling as Luke, a carny motorcycle stuntman who learns that a one-night stand has produced a son. His jailhouse tattoos signify a hard-scrabble life, Luke but sees the Light in that baby boy’s face. But his way to get cash is criminally stupid, and with a crook, we must have a cop. Bradley Cooper is Avery, a law-school grad who drives a squad car. His story is Act 2. Act 3 jumps 15 years to the sons of cop and crook as the youth play out a track the other chapters deftly avoided: a finger-waving melodrama that fails against the previous action, including a true gut-punch shocker. Gosling and Cooper bring their best, and the actors playing the sons –- Emory Cohen and Dane DeHaan -– leap over the cliché roles. “Pines” could have been massive, daring follow-up for Cianfrance, but his need to dispel lessons breaks the spell. B-