Paranormal Activity 2 (2010)

With “Paranormal Activity 4” topping the box office this weekend, I realize I only ever saw the first film, and bypassed a crop of sequels. Until now. “Paranormal Activity 2” may have been titled “Paranormal Activity Too” as it follows the sister (Sprague Grayden) of the woman (Katie Featherston) haunted and left fate unknown in the low-budget, hand-made 2009 box office smash. This is a prequel, stand-aside, and carbon copy, with the same found home surveillance and video camera “evidence” footage showing a mysterious force ripping apart a family. Cue slamming doors, bizarre attacks, and -- one hour in -- a frying pan falling off one of those pot hanger thingies in a kitchen I envy.  “PA1” was a surprise film made by a guy who wanted to scare the crap out of folks, and he made it in his own home. “PA2” has moments –- floating baby does provide spooks galore -– but it’s studio product made to make coin, and that’s very normal activity. The entire film builds up and previews “PA3.” Should I see that? B-

Robot and Frank (2012)

My PR job allows me to work with humanoid robots, so I was ready for the sci-fi drama “Robot and Frank” big time. With sometimes clunky bodies, humanoid robots are still in developmental infancy and several decades will pass before ’bots hit, say, toaster status. But, Sundance wiz “R&F” matter-of-factly shows a future with automatons all about, in libraries, homes, and on the street. Frank Langella plays Frank, a 70-year-old ex-thief with prison and a broken family behind him. Frank is sliding into dementia when his son (James Marsden) buys him a mechanical housekeeper/mother hen robot. Frank balks and fumes until he learns that the ’bot can be taught … um … unlawful night activities. Frank’s back in the game, and the scores revitalize him, and that’s the sweet/powerful joke behind director Jake Schreier’s and writer Christopher D. Ford’s feature debut. Crime pays and robots rock. Langella nails the part -- no show-off old-man breakdowns, but pure frail human emotion. The script gives Frank a romantic interest (always lovely Susan Sarandon) and it’s great until fate (the pen) insists on a wild card that feels forced. B

Equilibrium (2002)

“Equilibrium” is sci-fi loaded with dystopian fears of left-wing fascism zinged up by woo-hoo martial arts action set pieces. But it’s a shrill, dull, laughable rip-off of “Matrix” made for folks who have vaguely heard of “THX-1138” and never actually read “Nineteen Eighty-Four” or “Fahrenheit  451.” It’s recyclable parts from the start, melted down and served up with a cast that makes eating nuked leftovers almost palpable. Pre-“Batman” Christian Bale is our Winston Smith-meets-Neo hero, a futuristic soldier for a Big Bro gov’mint that has banned emotion and arts through drugs and force, all in an effort to prevent war. Irony being “Father” kills all protesters. Poo politics though, writer/director Kurt Wimmer (“Salt”) salivates over slo-mo fights with dudes dressed in black long coats stomping, kicking, and shooting each other into oblivion, until the finale when Bale (and his double) dons a white suit that would make Mr. Roarke’s tailor swoon during an anti-climactic O’Brian kill zone. Bale stars, the lovely Emily Watson plays a dissident, while Taye Diggs co-stars as a rival. All are upstaged by a puppy. No, really. C

The Master (2012)

In “There will be Blood,” Paul Thomas Anderson told the story of America’s greatest gifts -- capitalism and religious freedom –- gone mad. “The Master” does not rise to such heights, but it never could have. It also follows two men -– again representing one idea -– at odds. Joaquin Phoenix plays Freddie Quells, a World War II vet who is violent, perverted, alcoholic, immature, and a drifter, until he literally stumbles onto the yacht of a man close in age, but light years beyond Freddie’s mental reach. Lancaster Dodd (Philip Seymour Hoffman) is a scientist, writer, philosopher, and cult leader of a trillions-year-old self-help religion known as The Cause. (Scientology? Maybe.) Dodd has a family and scores of admirers. Quells wants it all, to be Dodd, but can’t recognize that impossibility. It is clear that Quell stopped maturing at 13. He’s all awkward male poses and farts, a hormonal teenager. Dodd sees Quell as a pet project, and Quell pings-pongs, loving and loathing Dodd as others point out the man’s fakery. Yet, Dodd is convinced of his own powers. So, who truly is the better man? Like “Blood,” Anderson offers few answers, but provides another riveting, fascinating, and endlessly debatable story. A

Abduction (2011)

No one gets abducted in “Abduction,” but for a “Bourne Identity” Junior knock-off staring the scowling werewolf from “Twilight,” I guess the title “Who’s My Daddy?” would not drag in the non-teenage fans, huh? It’s almost unfair to dub “Abduction” a “Bourne” knock-off, it’s a boot-licking mash note that name drops Matt Damon. The plot: High school misfit Nathan Parker (Taylor Lautner) learns from a missing children website that he is not quite himself. Just as Nathan confronts his “parents” (Jason Isaacs and Maria Bello), goons storm the suburban home. Guns blaze! Mom down! Dad down! Boy on the run, with a gal (Lilly Collins of “Mirror, Mirror”) in tow! See, Serbian terrorists set up the very website knowing that one day Nathan would visit it and flee right into their insidious trap to outsmart Nathan’s real father, a brilliant ex-CIA agent. Whew! Why not a Craig’s List ad? John Singleton directs on snooze, his “Boyz ’N the Hood” days long gone. Lautner acts listlessly here as he does in “Twilight.” Suspense? Zero. Unintended laughs? A villain warns, “There’s a bomb in the oven!” and our heroes run to check the oven! Hilarious. C-

Jaws (1975)

“Jaws” is the “Godfather” of beach movies. There is nothing better or scarier, even with all the sequels (3-D!) and rip-offs and homages (“Piranha” and even “Alien”). All the “Gidget”-like fun flicks from before? “Jaws” killed ’em. New to BluRay, “Jaws” is better than ever in crisp, glorious widescreen with sound racketed up so every thump of John Williams’ score booms inside your gut. The picture is so clean one can see the horizon miles past the shaken trio of Roy Scheider, Richard Dreyfuss, and Robert Shaw as they battle a killer shark in the waters of New England. I need not discuss plot, right? Everyone knows it. And no wonder: Steven Spielberg, in his mid-20s, out of his league, and working with physical special effects that barely functioned, pulled out a masterpiece that can never be duplicated. Not with all the CGI in the world. The panic and confusion off screen spills onscreen where anything can happen. The shark doesn’t appear for an hour, but by then Spielberg has pulled us in with brilliantly drawn characters and intense trickery. Shaw rules as the doomed shark hunter and has the best intro ever in a movie. A+

Five Graves to Cairo (1943)

Billy Wilder’s World II spy drama “Five Graves to Cairo” starts off grim as hell: A Brit armored tank drives aimlessly through the Egyptian desert, its crew dead except for one man who falls from the vehicle onto the desert sand. John Bramble (Franchot Tone) stumbles and then crawls his way to a nearby town, to a hotel called the Empress of Britain. Recall, the Brits ruled this land, lock, stock and key. But the Brits scrammed. The Nazis are in, full force. The sun-stroked Bramble is certainly dead. Except the hotel owner (Akim Tamiroff) takes pity, and sets Bramble up as the dead-by-bombing waiter Davos. Bramble as Davos learns the latter was a Nazi spy, so now Bramble can play the espionage card triple against Rommel (Erich von Stroheim). This is a great yarn, suspenseful, fun, gritty, and full of the era’s patriotic Us-Against-Them/Country-First propaganda, up to a fault: See the damsel-in-distress (Anne Baxter) of the pic is -– SPOILER ALERT! -– doomed because she dares put family first. It smacks not so much of war-time tragedy, but a sexist streak absent from Wilder in lighter classics a la “Apartment.” B+