Jack Ryan: Shadow Recruit (2014)

I loved Tom Clancy’s Jack Ryan book series before I drifted left and he disappeared into techno-war-porn liberal hate. Ryan was a great read: Injured marine turned CIA desk geek with deadly smarts. Blow shit up? Tougher guys did that. Clancy’s writing electrified: He foresaw 9/11 in 1994. Now comes “Jack Ryan: Shadow Recruit,” a reboot with Chris Pine as Ryan. It fizzles. It chases 9/11. It casts Russians as villains in a move politely called nostalgic. It starts strong: Young Ryan is wounded in Afghanistan, but his rehab spirit captures him a gal (Keira Knightly) and a secret boss (Kevin Costner) who hires Ryan for his vibe on tracking bad money. But fizzles. I’ll skip plot, because when the climax hits, Ryan –- injured 10 years on  -– is popping motorcycles like Knievel and punches like Bourne. Baffling. Did a reel get lost? Kenneth Branagh is director and bad guy, going full Hollywood. A missed idea screams loud: Why not recast Ryan with Knightly -- oddly cast as distressed damsel -- as female Ryan? Clancy might have been a right-wing blowhard, but he knew cool women. Disappointing. (But better than that Affleck crap.) C+

My Week with Marilyn (2011)

Playing Marilyn Monroe is no small feat. She’s the definitive Hollywood icon of sex and tragedy, 40-plus years after her death. Yet, Michelle Williams nails the part with astounding skill, and not just of Marilyn Monroe, but the way Marilyn played “Marilyn” for cameras, for hangers-on, and adoring, endless fans. A role that seemingly even confused herself, according to the screenplay. The lyric “I’m not broken but you can see the cracks,” from U2, comes to mind. In 1957, Monroe arrived in England to make a film with Sir Laurence Olivier (Kenneth Branagh, eerily good), and the screen goddess created an instant clash with her wayward, unreliable off-screen ways. The “My” in the tile is Colin Clark, a young assistant director who befriends, and so much more, the star. A guy named Eddie Redmayne plays him. True story? Don’t know. If the real Colin lied in his books, he didn’t fib big, because he and Marilyn don’t go there. This is Williams’ film. It’s dull whenever she’s not onscreen. It’s a drama and a morality tale, so, yes, drugs are bad. Williams is a pure goddess on screen. Bravo, miss. B+

Thor (2011)

“Thor” is a blockbuster comic book movie. I was hesitant about this film early on -- I loved the books as a child/teen, but Thor’s whole Norse god history, blue costume and red cape, the hammer, and long hair? It spelled disaster. Enter Kenneth Branagh, director of several Shakespeare adaptations and the A-grade thriller “Dead Again.” He perfectly balances this superhero fantasy: Massive special effects, action, fluffy back-stabbing drama, and prerequisite heroic self-sacrifice. The plot spans a thousand years and multiple galaxies: God of Thunder Thor (Chris Hemsworth) is banished to Earth after he starts an intergalactic war (oops) thus irking poppa Odin (Anthony Hopkins). As Thor cools his heels on Earth, brother Loki (Tom Hiddleston) does very bad things back home. Hemsworth – he played poppa Kirk in 2009’s “Star Trek” – is charismatic, tough as concrete, a bit foolish, but fully heroic. A sly Natalie Portman plays a scientist who Thor happens to luck into – these things happen in comic books. “Thor” could have been a disaster. We have villains named Frost Giants for crying out loud. But Branagh treats it as vital as anything written by the Bard. Near-constant jokes and asides welcome. B

Dead Again (1991)

“Dead Again” is a pounding homage to Hollywood whodunits of the 1940s/50s, topped with a sly self-aware icing. The film bounces between post-World War II and present day Los Angeles as it follows a gumshoe detective (Kenneth Branagh), a damsel in distress (Emma Thompson), a frantic European composer (Branagh again) and his new wife (Thompson, naturally).

The plot’s 37 dozen cliff-hanger shockers and the scissors-as-weapons obsession get sillier and sillier as “Dead Again” (come on, even the title’s a laugh riot) races and leaps toward a climax that is both wonderfully over the top and a nod to early Hitchcock. No matter. Director-star Branagh stages shocker scenes with perfection – they leave your jaw hanging even as you (most of the time) laugh out loud. Patrick Doyle’s score practically knocks the characters off screen, happily so.

There are nitpicks: Two characters age 50 years, yet appear more covered in moldy cream cheese than elderly. And even by “spoof” standards, Branagh’s American accent is scissors-in-the-eyeball painful. No matter: This is back when Branagh and Thompson were the It Couple of Hollywood, and I dare anyone not to go around barking, “Dese are fer you!” for days on end. A classic thriller, I watched this constantly on VHS while a high schooler. A

Sleuth (2007)

The new version of "Sleuth" has one thing going for it right out of the box: a witty, but simple, character-driven story of pure actor one-upmanship derived from the early-1970s classic film inspired by a play.
The story: A cuckolded husband (Michael Caine) dishes psychological torture on the man (Jude Law) sleeping with his wife. Then tables are turned. Then turned again. Caine, it should be noted, played the young man in the 1972 film, so that's also a huge plus. But this update sinks fast. Not because of the can-you-top-this actors, nor Harold Pinter's more nasty screenplay, but because director Kenneth Branagh constantly gets in the way of the story. His camera hangs from ceilings and fireplaces, it lurks behind window blinds, watches the actors through a television screen, sits still as actors walk off, stares at a nostril or eyeball for whole minutes. It plays like a hyperactive film student's thesis project. In essence, Branagh is trying to one-up his own actors as the true artist (Caine plays a writer/Law a would-be actor). The crap lighting and the gaudy art direction also compete as deadly distractions. Thankfully, it's short -- just under 90 minutes. C