RIPD (2013)

What’s a studio to do when a major franchise such as “Men in Black” dries up over tired scripts and fuck-off-looking tired actors (bye, Tommy Lee Jones)? It finds a place holder. A substitute teacher to keep the kids happy. “RIPD” fits the task. Ryan Reynolds plays a smart-aleck city cop swept up in a secret worldwide police force that pops supernatural criminals on sight, guns blazing, and his new partner is a crusty geezer with a piss attitude. Whoa, man. We’re not talking aliens, though. No, sir. That would copying. Here’s it’s the undead, ghosts. Not aliens. That would be copying. And, yes, there’s a big-city battle that means the end of the world. God help me. “RIPD” means Rest in Peace Department. Get it? Reynolds smirks at action and lays on puppy dog eyes at drama, just as he did in “Green Lantern.” He is endlessly fucking boring. As the cranky partner, Jeff Bridges -– great actor -- replays his role from “True Grit,” thinking paycheck. “Men in Black” had crazy wit and an ending that had me gasping with laughter. “RIPD”? I was looking at the clock. And the damn thing was as DOA as this grinding imposter. D+

The Fisher King (1991)

Damn it. Robin Williams is dead. When I heard the awful news, I knew “The Fisher King” was the first film I wanted to watch, honoring the man. This is his greatest performance as Parry, a former academic who suffers a mental collapse after the murder of his wife, and lives homeless on the New York streets. The unstable gunman was set off by a shock jock radio host (Jeff Bridges) who decries yuppies on air, but lives in a NYC flat as lifeless as the moon. The main action of Terry Gilliam’s pitch-black drama/comedy takes place three years after when Parry saves Jack from suicide. Jack, realizing Parry’s downfall, commits to “saving” Parry. Serving his own ego. Dig the 15-minute midsection where Parry –- taken in by Jack -- woos his dream woman (Amanda Plummer) at dinner then walks her home, only to suffer a breakdown, pleading, “Let me have this,” to his demons. What follows is Williams’ finest moment. Also dig Williams’ perfectly told tale of a lonely, turmoil-stricken king. It’s a heartbreaking moment that now ought to leave any person in tears. Bridges, in the lead role, is excellent as always. A full daft feast. A

Tideland (2006)

Even before the depraved fantasy drama “Tideland” begins, director/co-writer/ex-Python Terry Gilliam appears on screen to warn his audience: “This is a rough film. It deals with a child in terrible situations. You probably will hate it.” How prophetic. Here, a young girl is shoved through a ringer so demoralizing it makes the “Saw” films seem quaint. I stopped the movie four times, only willing to continue for hope of a silver lining. In a theater I would have walked out. And I dig dark films of all stripes. But not this+

The film begins with 9-year-old Jeliza-Rose (Jodelle Ferland) cooking heroin fixes in the kitchen for her junkie parents, a tepid rock star (Jeff Bridges) and a shrieking Courtney Love freak (Jennifer Tilly). Mom dies. Father and daughter flee for the farm house where he was raised. Then dad ODs, and rots in a chair. Jeliza-Rose idles her lonely time playing with four severed dolls heads that talk to her. Are the voices her imagination, or the beginning of schizophrenia? We never know.

Our girl is not alone for long. A second abusive, shrieking woman (Janet McTeer) appears, dressed all in black. She dumps more misery on Jeliza-Rose, who is so desperate for attention and oblivious of abuse that she laps it up. Had enough? Gilliam is not through yet. (The movie is based on a novel of the same name.)

McTeer’s Wicked Witch embalms the father for Jeliza-Rose to cuddle with, and the woman has a mentally disabled adult brother (Brendan Fletcher) who takes a liking to Jeliza-Rose. The girl, age 9, laps up this attention, too. Yes, Gilliam goes there. Our young girl and her adult buddy become “kissy buddies.” When he straddles her in bed, and they play tongue flicks --- that was the third time I stopped the film. The fourth time: McTeer physically attacks the girl. If you add in Ferland’s elementary Miss Scahlett accent, I had a fifth reason to quit watching.

Gilliam is a twisted master of the outlandish macabre, be they brilliant (“Brazil”) or failed (“The Brothers Grimm),” but here, he’s just a twisted fuck. He thinks he’s entertaining us with deep childhood angst, oddball special effects, swooshing cameras and his over-acting cast. Gilliam insists his film is brave and artistic because it’s “from a child’s innocent perspective.” Bullshit. He’s an adult, and he should know better. “Tideland” wallows in child-endangering filth, and serves up talking squirrels as a joke. F

True Grit (2010)

I’ve yet to see John Wayne‘s “True Grit.” If I saw it as a child, I have no memory of The Duke playing one-eyed alcoholic U.S. Marshal Rueben “Rooster” J. Coburn, who is hired as a bounty hunter by a 14-year-old to capture her father’s killer. Joel and Ethan Coen are behind this re-adaptation of Charles Portis’ book, and in mostly serious “No Country for Old Men” mode. This western isn’t as bloody violent or brilliant as the 2007 gem, it’s missing a mad anything-can-happen spark, but “Grit” is wildly entertaining. Jeff Bridges (“The Big Lebowski”) plays Coburn, and brilliantly so. Coburn is old and cantankerous. His brain drowned long ago in whiskey, so his speech is slurred and his motor skills awkward. These traits are hilarious and sad. This is more concerned about play of words, language and character than plot, and the Coens rock the proceedings. As the teen employer, Hailee Steinfeld is amazing, forceful and blunt. She not only gets the better of Coburn, but Bridges. Even Matt Damon, as a Texas Ranger, can’t match this teen. Give Steinfeld an Oscar. A-

Tron (1982) and Tron: Legacy (2010)

“Tron: Legacy” must be one of the longest-planned sequels in film history. It was 28 years ago that the legendary and infamous “Tron” -- the CGI-before-there-was-CGI Walt Disney thriller about computer malware run amok and a hacker hero, set inside a computer -– crashed at the box office. I saw it then, at age eight. I recall being enthralled and absolutely confused, my little noodle baked to a crisp. I went into “Tron: Legacy” with only faint memories from 1982, and re-watched the original a few days later. Here are my takes:

“Tron” has an eternal place in geek culture, it’s a thriller with a mind-warping zinger plot that still impresses. The gist: Jeff Bridges is Kevin Flynn, a young computer programmer booted out of monster corporation ENCOM. He is a hacker, living above the game arcade he runs in an on old L.A. neighborhood. When he’s not attacking ENCOM by computer, he might be sleeping with the girls who dig his joystick skills. (And this is Disney!) At ENCOM’s HQ, perennial villain David Warner is an evil suit who stole Flynn’s work, and yet is slave to Master Control Program, a HAL-like supercomputer bent on world domination as a computer game.

In a nifty bit of “Got you!,” Master Control zaps Flynn into its inner-computer world. There, byte-sized Flynn must battle for his life in a 1s and 0s version of “Spartacus,” with gladiator-style fights. He has a friend, Tron -– an anti-malware computer program warrior. That’s Bruce Boxleitner, who’s also a disgruntled ENCOM programmer and current lover to Flynn’s ex (Cindy Morgan) in the real world.

The special effects are terrible for today’s eyes, and the costumes may never have looked good -– they seem not much more than magic-marker drawings on cardboard attached to bicycle helmets. Some of the action gets fuzzy, and floating roofing staples (computer bracket marks?) are too goofy for words. But the film is damn smart, tech-wise. It foresaw avatars and “Avatar,” and computer warfare, and hackers commanding massive computer networks – taking down a company or country with the click of a mouse. It’s the father of “The Matrix.” When the heroes take up light cycles, the film rocks. The colors pop. I felt eight again.

All respect is due to director/creator Steven Lisberger. He may have been snickered at in 1982, the year of beloved sci-fi classics “E.T.” and “Blade Runner,” but now … “Told you so” is the phrase. B+

Which brings us to “Tron: Legacy,” which follows Kevin Flynn’s grown son Sam (Garrett Hedlund), a hacker who lives in an old warehouse by the river. Hey, it’s no van. Dad is missing, plucked away in 1989 by unknown circumstances. Mom (Morgan in photos) is dead. After busting the balls of ENCOM – now corporately evil again -- Sam is visited by Alan (Boxleitner), the programmer who created and on the grid was Spybot-like hero Tron. Alan sends Sam to Flynn’s old arcade, apparently dormant for three decades, but still cranking along with electricity. (Funny that, huh?)

As with his father, Sam is blasted by a laser into a computer world grid, an updated but dead-cold version of the inner programming that marked the 1982 film. Much is the same: Light cycles and flying roofing staples, gladiator games ala “Spartacus,” with kidnapped programs byting the dust. Of course, everything looks better, faster. (The special effects truly are amazing.) And, as any preview told you, dad is there. Kevin Flynn (Bridges again) is older, heavier and resigned to exile in a virtual Recycle Bin.

This universe is ruled by Clu, the avatar of the older Flynn briefly seen in “Tron.” Clu is un-aged, and power mad. He’s Master Control Program in the (sort of) flesh. Naturally, Sam has to rile dad into fighting himself. Sam has help: A warrior played by Olivia Wilde, who – in a shockingly sexist bit – describes herself as a “rescue.” A rescue what, dear? Cat? Dog?

That line is just a bit of the problems, aside from a blueprint rip-off of the first film’s plot. Tron appears in the briefest of flashbacks, and then as Clu’s enforcer, but always masked. For a film called “Tron: Legacy,” there isn’t much in the way of Tron. Talk about a rip-off. I think the phrase is “WTF?” Still, first-time director Joseph Kosinski hits home runs with the action, and the use of 2D in the “real-world” and 3D in the grid. The trick recalls “The Wizard of Oz,” and shows that 3D is not a marketing gimmick.

In a second instance of WTF, Michael Sheen has a cameo that is brilliant and yet painfully clichéd. He plays a mob-connected androgynous nightclub owner who may be the child of Frank-N-Furter and Ziggy Stardust. On the bright side: In the club are two DJs – played by the guys who provide the film’s score. Daft Punk is the duo’s name. Damn if it isn’t spectacular, and outpaces the film its supposed to support.

Bridges is awesome as always, even if his young Clu seems too CGI’d for any good. Or bad, as the plot dictates. When Clu opens his mouth, the character looks all plasticy. The eyes seem vacant. David Warner’s triple-villain from “Tron” was far more effective, even if he was a low-rent Darth Vadar. With no mask. Boxleitner, by the way, must be loved by God. Or a plastic surgeon. Dude looks good.

“Tron” is absolutely worth re-visiting. But all that planning and hundreds of millions of dollars in production for a sequel, I’m left wanting. Lisberger was ahead of the curve by a decade. Kosinski and his team are looking in the rear-view mirror. For a film with “Legacy” in the title, there isn’t much to be seen. B-

The Big Lebowski (1998)

I dismissed “The Big Lebowski” the first time I saw it in 1998. Following “Fargo,” I wanted a substantial work of art from brothers Ethan and Joel Coen. But that’s not how they play. So, with my now third viewing, I’m a Believer. Jeff Bridges is Jeff “The Dude” Lebowski, an unemployed stoner who leaves his house for only two reasons: To bowl, and to buy supplies for White Russians, dressed in a robe and boxers. When goons (Hey! It’s Jacob from “LOST”!) mistake The Dude for a rich old man with the same name, our hero finds himself involved in a film noir caper normally reserved for tough-guy cops, private detectives or journalists. And that’s the joy of this funny, endlessly quotable satirical tale, with stand-out performances by John Goodman as a Vietnam Vet still stuck in his own time warp, and Steve Buscemi as a guy who couldn’t follow a “Peanuts” strip. I still think “Lebowski” is too long and serves up too much zaniness for its own good, but The Dude is so wonderfully written and performed, that he’s become an icon. Bridges is Lebowski, and Lebowski is Bridges. Abide. A-

Crazy Heart (2009)

Is there a present-day actor cooler than Jeff Bridges? No. And in “Crazy Heart,” Bridges is cool. And, yet, pathetic. He’s Bad Blake, an immensely talented country singer whose career never peaked beyond bowling alleys and bars. Facing 60, Blake is a lifelong drunk staring at death from emphysema, heart attack, lung cancer, or a drunken car crash. The kicker: His protégé (Colin Farrell) is a mega-hit superstar, packing arenas with adoring fans. As with every redemption story, and make no mistake about it, “Crazy” is that, there is a woman. Maggie Gyllenhaal plays the single mom who falls for Blake’s weird country grunge charm. Is it a believable? Not fully. Yet, it’s oddly touching more than creepy. Blake isn’t just after a pretty woman, but a surrogate son. Thankfully, director/screenwriter Scott Cooper avoids the syrupy ending. It’s not all roses or overly “art house” dark at the end. Bridges earned that Oscar, showing miles of wrong ways and dead ends in Blake’s bleary eyes. The country lyrics are amazing testaments to men (and women) who have killed or blown every good chance in life, and are yet cling on for another swing at the bat. And that, essentially, is the film. B+

Iron Man (2008)

When I first heard "Iron Man" was getting the big-screen, live-action treatment, my initial reaction was absolute nerd fear. I have hundreds of Iron Man comic books from the 1980s and 1990s. The all-too-human Tony Stark as the ordinary hero in a metal fighting suit has been my lifelong favorite (behind only Spider-Man, but not always) read. Like Batman, Iron Man seemed more "real" to me. Stark was never bitten by a radioactive spider, or smacked with gamma rays or sent to and from in a rocket ship. He was a guy who reached a breaking point, getting smacked in the face once too many, and decided no more. He dons his self-designed suit and takes action. How cool for a geeky kid?

Plus, bad comic book adapted films ("Ghost Rider") far outweigh the good ("Spider-Man 2"), and I knew in my heart this would be bad. I just didn't see Iron Man and his metal suit gelling as a real visual object. How could they produce on film a metal suit, the fit of Stark's head in the mask, the crunch of heavy metallic boots on the ground? If Iron Man didn't look real, the whole thing would fail. But the news I kept hearing was uplifting: Robert Downey Jr. as Stark; Terrance Howard as Jim Rhodes; Jeff Bridges, one of the most under-rated actors in cinema, as Obadiah Stane. All perfect. I honestly hadn't seen many of Jon Favreau's films, so that left a big question mark in my book.

Well, my fears were put to rest upon the film's release. "Iron Man" is just too friggin' cool. It soars. I adore it. In their first film as a studio, Iron Man publisher Marvel Comics exactly nails this great character (which provides the only negative, I knew exactly how the film would end before it began). The story: While visiting a war-torn county, military industrialist and spoiled playboy Stark is taken by enemy combatants and held for ransom. Stark, realizing he's doomed, builds a suit of weaponized armor and escapes. Once home, he turns a new leaf and becomes Iron Man, reigning in his sprawling war-profiting company whilst blasting away bad guys. (The major transition: The comic book has Vietnam as the instigating country; here it is Afghanistan.)

A simple story, yes, but that's part of the joy. The comic book and this film isn't loaded down with clumsy plot mechanics like the awful "Spider-Man 3," it's character-driven from start to finish. I can't say enough about Downey as Stark -- he nails the gravitas of this character, his good, his bad and his ugly. When Stark is the cold-fish lackey of capitalism, Downey plays him as a self-worshipping heel. When that wake-up call comes and a friend lays dying, Stark's world and Downey's eyes -- and performance -- come into focus. Every Iron Man fan knows that Stark has long carried an addiction to alcohol, and Downey's sullied past brings that baggage to screen without it being mentioned. A perfect detail. Even without the comic book history in my brain, the casting of Jeff Bridges as Stane, Stark's mentor and substitute father, points to villainous deeds. But Bridges takes this admittedly one-note role to the hilt. Howard delivers a low-key performance, much needed against out-sized characters as Stark and Stane.

The look of Iron Man's various incarnations, from the first welded together impromptu rescue suit to the final gleaming, red and iron god, are perfect. The look, play and reflections of light on metal, the sound of crunching ground under boot and the presence of the suit as a real mass object taking up space is flawless. (Versus, say anything in the disappointing "Indiana Jones" 4.) Four times I've seen this film, and I still can't tell where CGI and model effects begin and end. The engineering mechanics of the suit work beautifully, watching on film you understand how each part fits and interconnects and moves. I also love the mistakes Stark is allowed to make as he finds himself and learns who Iron Man can be as he builds, rebuilds and tinkers with his new self.

Favreau set out to bring a super hero to screen that would have been impossible 10 years ago, and hits a home run. The film, for me, essentially is America finding the right course, waking up to its full potential and becoming (once again) a hero. This is a brilliant starter film for a franchise I greatly look forward to. A

Blown Away (1994)

Hammy acting can be a deadly bomb, and this 1994 drama kills. The audience. In "Blown Away," a mad Irish bomber (Tommy Lee Jones) targets the Boston Police Department's Bomb Squad and its loose cannon star Jimmy Dove (Jeff Bridges), who has dark secrets of his own. The supporting cast includes Forrest Whitaker, Lloyd Bridges, Cuba Gooding Jr. and Suzi Amis. What could go wrong with a cast like that, eh? Jones gives his career worst performance, even compared to "Batman Forever." (Yep.) His Ryan Gaerity is a loon Irish terrorist too loony for the IRA, who wears Jesus T-shirts and listens to U2 records (but doesn't actually listen), who drinks, giggles, jigs and wails like the Lucky Charms guy. It's an insult to any one who believes in Jesus or loves U2, or has a 1/10th trace of Irish blood. I'm a Scot, and I was insulted by proximity. Nothing in this film is believable. Add in over-done editing and music, a lengthy running time, and just let it end. C-