Wallace and Gromit: The Curse of the Were-Rabbit (2005)

I deeply love the “Wallace & Gromit” half-hour shorts. The claymation gems star an oblivious English inventor (Wallace, voiced by Peter Sallis) and his faithful dog (Gromit, who does not speak). In the full-length “Wallace and Gromit: The Curse of the Were-Rabbit,” our heroes are hired protectors of vegetable gardens, grabbing up thieving bunnies and … keeping them safe. It’s best not to explain too much, but soon a giant rabbit – taller than any man – is grabbing up cabbages, carrots and zucchini. The plot and numerous puns are preschool simple. We get zero cynicism. It features dozens of winks at monster classics such as “The Wolfman.” This is just a film to look at and just love, watching for trademark thumbprints, the sign of joy, art and storytelling -- all from master/co-director Nick Park. Big name talents join the fun, with Helena Bonham Carter and Ralph Fiennes on voice duty. A

Little Fockers (2010)

I cannot bear to repeat the title. Ben Stiller and Robert De Niro are back in a third “Meet the Parents,” a sequel to a sequel no one asked for, and from the looks on the casts' bored faces, no one wanted to star in. Stiller again is the idiot man-child under the thumb of daddy-in-law De Niro. Fifteen minutes in, we witness De Niro's soul die when he chokes on the pun “Godfocker,” and -- Ah, you know? I cannot do this. Fock this movie, its cast and the suggestion of a fourth focking flick. F

Dog Day Afternoon (1975)

In the opening seconds of Sonny Wortzik’s daring daylight robbery of a Brooklyn bank, it all goes wrong. Sonny – played by Al Pacino, when his legend was unbeatable – can’t even get his rifle out of a flower box correctly. He fumbles. Then one of his two accomplices flees, and then Sonny finds out the truck already picked up the money. Dude is left looking at less than $1,500. This is the start of Sidney Lumet’s classic drama-thriller “Dog Day Afternoon,” a film about a damned lost soul, so desperate to change, for a chance, that he destroys the thin string he hangs by. Based on an incredible true story, “Dog” is Pacino’s acting showcase -- a maladjusted Vietnam vet in a sexual pickle too riotous to explain. Just watch. His Sonny seems closer to real criminals, as we call them, than 99 percent of the flicks out there. (I covered enough crime at newspapers to know.) Lumet’s clockwork precision plays well, the movie seems to spin out in real time, in a throbbing, sweating, raging New York City long gone. John Cazale plays Sonny’s hard-case accomplice, an unhinged guy not afraid to kill or be killed. One of the best films from the 1970s. A+

The Wicker Man (1973 and 2006)

A police officer arrives at a remote island, searching for a missing tween girl and finds himself a bit lost and well out-numbered amongst pagan followers of an isolated, almost deranged cult. Nothing goes well, at least for the noble policeman.

The 1973 original is a true cult film – insanely weird and scratchy, especially during a musical scene where actress Britt Ekland sings a seductive tune while throwing herself against walls of a bedroom, whilst naked, as the chaste, self-proclaimed Christian police officer Neil Howie (Edward Woodward) practically flagellates himself in the next room. Seriously demented stuff. Howie huffs and puffs, and tears the small Scottish isle apart, looking for the lost girl, and screaming phlegm at the sexually provocative, Earth-worshipping cultists, saving his deepest ire for the group’s kilt-wearing leader, played by Christopher Lee. As Howie digs into his investigation, he digs his own grave: The man never seems to recognize that he essentially is alone on the island. With no help. The ending is horrific, ironic and strangely – against the grain of the rest of the movie – heroic. It’s a shame this “Wicker Man” seems to have been slashed in the editing room, as we know nothing about Howie’s mainland life. Director Robin Hardy has made a doozey of a film, for sure, where even the cherub-faced grade school girls and smiling old ladies can’t be trusted. A wonderfully offensive trip of a film. A-

What can we say about the remake? It stars Nicolas Cage as the policeman, this time on a hunt for the missing daughter of his ex-fiancée (Kate Beahan) who returned to the cultish island where she was born. This is filmmaking made on a dare: How dumb can we go? The answer is deep. Let’s skip over how inept Cage’s cop is -- the man seems not to know where babies come from -- and how ineptly Cage plays him. No, the real brain killer here is how director Neil Labute (“In the Company of Men”) miraculously makes a cinematic island of all-powerful women and enslaved, tongue-less men a place of utter sexless boredom. How hard does one work to pull off such a feat of … limp drama? As well, religion isn't even mentioned here. So no sex, no teeth. Zero reason to exist. If you’ve never seen Cage running around in a bear suit sucker-punching women in the face, then … count yourself lucky. Ellen Burstn's smirk is nice to watch. D-

Rocky IV (1985)

I’m biased on any “Rocky” film. Back in Philly during the 1980s, when a “Rocky” movie was released, work, school, transportation, and pretzel-eating stopped. It was our civic duty in the City of Brotherly Love to watch the latest pounding and last-minute triumph of Rocky Balboa, patron saint of boxing, American flag boxers and Sylvester Stallone’s enduring career. Here, Rocky fights Russian behemoth Ivan Drago (Dolph Lundgren) who towers over our hero like a father to his toddler son. There is death (so long Apollo), there is Survivor (“Eye of the Tiger” never gets old) and training montages galore, before the grand finale. Stallone, also writing and directing, serves up the best storyline since the First Chapter, I mean the 1976 and Genesis, and a kick-ass rock-hard Cold War flick that seems genius now. Lundgren by sheer force takes the film, starting when he throws Carl Weathers across the ring as if he were a grocery sack. A true jaw-dropper scene even now. The fight scenes are bloody fantastic. Stallone was a god of my youth, I cannot criticize him. Everyone together: “Aaaddrriaaan!” A-

Skyline (2010)

In the event of a massive alien invasion resulting in millions of deaths and the devastation of your entire city, including 99.9 percent of your best pals, please do not take the elevator. Use the stairs. That’s one of many lessons you can take away from “Skyline,” a low-budget sci-fi thriller that plays like a bad Saturday Night Sci-Fi (now Sy-Fy) Channel movie that wormed its way into theaters. The special effects are gee-whiz neat, naturally. The directors/co-writers are SFX champs and brothers Greg and Colin Strause. They did CGI work on such flicks as “300” and “Titanic,” according to IMDB. But storytellers they are not. As each too hot gal and guy gets their brain sucked out – yes, the aliens are after human brains! –“Skyline” gets more outrageously silly. By the end, I was laughing at myself, watching my brain leak out. C-

Yogi Bear (2010)

Confession: I had a Yogi Bear lunchbox as a child. I loved that tie-wearing bear and his little depressed pal, Boo-Boo. So I’m pleased to say the live-action/CGI hybrid that is the “Yogi Bear” movie is better than any most recent talking cartoon animal movie has a right to be. Of course, these are low standards. “Marmaduke” hurt. I hated “Garfield.” This is cornball fun. Here, pic-a-nic basket thieving Yogi and Boo-Boo must help Ranger Smith (Tom Cavanagh in the flesh) save Jellystone Park from a self-serving mayor (Ayn Rand-follower perhaps?) with his eyes on higher office. The plot is lame. The CGI solid. Dan Aykroyd (Yogi) and Justin Timberlake (Boo-Boo) nail the characters’ voices. Timberlake has great one liners on the First Grade Scale of Humor. The jokes are scatological, but most are of the pie-in-the-face variety. Not bad. C+