The Counselor (2013)

“The Counselor” is a stunning failure from a seemingly A-grade group behind and in front of the camera. The story comes from the pen of Greatest Living American Writer Cormac McCarthy (“Blood Meridian”). The director is Brit Ridley Scott (“Alien”). Its rising star is Michael Fassbinder, playing a criminal lawyer known to us only as “Counselor” who dives willingly into the drug trade to get cash. Why? He wants diamonds for his Sweetie Pie (Penelope Cruz). Javier Bardem and Brad Pitt are among the villains. How can all this suck? I sat mouth agape in disbelief at this train wreck, and struggle to find words. OK. Cum on a car. No, really. See, Cameron Diaz loudly plays drug lord Bardem’s evil wife, an OTT Cruella De Ville as cast by “Real Housewives of New Jersey.” In one scene, she fucks and cums on hub’s sports car windshield. Really. Now the real sticky part (sorry): The WTF navel-gazing drivel that pours from the mouths of these great actors is even worse than that vision. Everyone in this film talks nonstop gibberish about fate, chance and death, and unlike every McCarthy book I have devoured, I begged for it to end. D

Skyfall (2012)

James Bond is back in form in “Skyfall” after the dive that was “Quantum of Solace,” a film as meaningless as its title. This third in the Daniel Craig series nearly equals 2006’s “Casino Royale,” the best of the 007 series since the Connery days. The plot: A mystery man from M’s (Judi Dench) past is plunging MI6 and London into chaos, unveiling secret agents and blowing HQ to chunks. The weapons of death and madness are not nukes or giant lasers hidden in volcanoes, but laptops; the trigger is the [ENTER] button. The sword cuts both ways: Both the villain (Javier Bardem, sexually ambiguous in an Oscar-worthy turn) and the new Q (Ben Whishaw) both hawk hacking as their life’s trade, setting old-fashioned Bond off his game. Craig as Bond is at his best when thrown off, clawing back from the dead and irrelevance. The admittedly comic-book plot mechanics clank, but director Sam Mendes (“Road to Perdition”) and his writers invoke the Connery era as if were Scripture, pulling a “You Only Live Twice” stunt and a ’64 Aston Martin homage, and then set a new path for the 50-year-old franchise by tearing down its past. A-

Biutiful (2010)

“Biuitful” is a Spanish drama about the 40something Uxbal (Javier Bardem) who’s scrapping by, raising two children as his bi-polar ex-wife prostitutes herself – with his own brother no less, operating an illegal Chinese sweat shop that will go tragic, exhuming the dead father he never met, and battling terminal cancer. This is the one-upper of sob movies. It makes “Monster’s Ball” seem jolly. There’s more wrong in Uxbal’s life, but you would not believe me. OK, I’ll spill. Dude sees dead people. I warned you. “Babel” director Alejandro González Iñárritu’s story follows Uxbal as he sacrifices himself to right all the wrongs in his life, self-made and otherwise, Job-meets-Christ. The miracle is that Bardem makes you mourn Oxbal’s slow passing, pissed pants and all. Dig Bardem’s performance, the cinematography and the grimy realism. Then go put your eyeball on a hot grill, lie down in traffic, snort cocaine off the tire of a moving bus. You’ll feel better. B

No County for Old Men (2007)

“No Country for Old Men” is top-notch, dark-hued Joel and Ethan Coen Whiskey, equal to “Miller’s Crossing” and “Blood Simple.” This thriller turned morality tale burns going down, with pulses of humor so dark, one feels guilty for laughing. It’s also a wild companion piece to “There Will Be Blood.” If that classic is about America’s twisted love of capitalism and religion, this tackles America’s love for killing.

Based on the Cormac McCarthy novel, “Country” follows three men: Llewelyn Moss (Josh Brolin), a Vietnam vet; Ed Tom Bell (Tommy Lee Jones), a Texas sheriff from a family of lawmen; and Anton Chigurh (Javier Bardem), a near-silent killer with a ’70s Hulk hairdo and an obsession with fate. The film is one long chase, the prize being a satchel of money. The genius kick: Author and filmmakers don’t care about the chase or the money. As “Men” churns along, the graphic violence all but slips off screen, and a philosophical tone on morality takes over. Boring? Grow up. Cormac rips story-telling rules. Coens kill movie rules.

Jones gives a career-best performance, including a stellar monologue that refers to the 23rd Psalm, without mentioning God. That’s a McCarthy trademark. Barden is freaking amazing. I could ramble on for hours. I love this film. (The book is amazing.) I love the sound design (the unscrewed light bulb) and lack of music, and Kelly Macdonald’s stoic blast-of-truth housewife. Genius. A+

Vicky Cristina Barcelona (2008)

It's fantastic to know that despite being in his 70s, Wood Allen can write and direct a deep, complex love story that goes against the grain. "Vicky Cristina Barcelona" follows Vicky (Rebecca Hall) and Christina (Scarlett Johansson) as they spend the summer in Spain. (The title is self-explanatory.) Vicky is cautious, serious and about to marry a guy who is the poster boy for the Young Republicans. Cristina is wild and doesn't have a clue what she wants in love; she only knows what she doesn't want. But she's not even sure of that.

Out for dinner one might, the two women meet an artist (Javier Bardem, about as far from his role in "No Country for Old Men" as is humanly possible) who invites them to fly to away for the weekend. That's the start of the real comedy/drama of the rules of love, sex, human emotions and cultural differences.

I won't give much away, but will add that Penelope Cruz pops up as the crazed, emotional firecracker ex-wife of the artist. She steals the film. Watching the film is a joy as Allen has painted three very different young women and one complex man. The music and atmosphere of the film also are top notch.

But all is not perfect. Allen has added long bits of narration that I can only guess was inspired by the voice-over in "The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford." It worked beautifully in the historical Western, creating an air of authority and history. Here, it gets in the way and made me feel like I was watching a historical romance piece made by the AP.

Not exactly the feeling Allen was hoping for, I suppose. There's also the nagging feeling that Allen has created a male fantasy film as Bardem is at the center of desire for three young women. Thank God, Allen didn't try and cast himself in the role. All said, Allen remains a force and his ear for imperfect characters remains wonderfully high. B