The Night of the Hunter (1955)

My Absolute Favorite Film has a new calling card. “The Night of the Hunter” is a stark black-and-white Southern gothic horror about a serial killer preacher (Robert Mitchum) who sets his demonic eyes on a widow (Shelley Winters) and her children (Billy Chapin and Sally Jane Bruce) as he seeks stolen money. Mitchum’s Rev. Harry Powell is film’s greatest villain, a singer of hymns who talks to God, assured his evil deeds are natural. “There’s plenty of killings in your book.” The genius realization: Charles Laughton directs this masterpiece for the child in us all, especially those of us who when young were suspicious of all those churchy smiles. “Hunter” is a child’s worst nightmare: Rooms boast crazed geometric shapes, wild animals loom gigantic, mother dies, rivers flow backward, and streetlamps throw evil shadows on walls. Mitchum’s preacher -- one hand tattooed LOVE, the other marked HATE -- turns faith into a war on every innocent soul. If the final closing words of reassurance from Lilian Gish’s kindly matriarch go on too long, it is not for the benefit of the terrified, surviving children on screen, but us in the audience. An absolute perfect marvel for soul, heart, and mind. A+

Penguins of Madagascar, Big Hero Six, Earth to Echo, and Night at the Museum: Secret of the Tomb (all 2014)

“Penguins of Madagascar”  … I saw it to take my niece and nephew out. Ehh. Have you seen the “Madagascar” films from DreamWorks? The zoo animals who ditched the Bronx for Africa? Pretty funny, the first one. Since then? Yawn. Snooze. Get me out. This fourth entry and add-on to a TV series focuses on sidekick comic-relief characters of wise-ass penguins who muck about in the Marx Brothers vein. New Yorker humor abounds. This is their origin tale. Cause we need that. The Penguins join a MI6 type group led by wolf Benedict Cumberbatch to take down power-mad octopus John Malkovich and we get jokes that play on actor names: “Nicholas, Cage them!” and “Helen, hunt them down!,” and oh my God, an hour in I pled for it to end, and it would not, and my nephew and niece loved it and I Give Up! C- 

Meanwhile, Disney, with no small help from Pixar, has CGI animated film “Big Hero Six,” based on a new-to-me Marvel comic for youngsters that pings “Scooby Doo” with boots, capes and robots. Our lead hero is Hero (Ryan Potter), a teen living with his aunt and older brother in a futuristic mashup of San Francisco and Tokyo. Hero is a budding roboticist with a punk-rebel streak who graduated high school at 13 and takes on college at 14 after a minor scrape with the law for amusing back-alley robot fights, only to suffer a devastating personal loss. Brother dies in a fire. Ouch. With the help of a cute puffy robot nurse named Baymax –- who looks like Shmoo on steroids and full of air and built by the dead older sibling -– Hero investigates the fire and finds himself a super villain right out of a four-color comic book. The simple story aims young with some edgy humor (there’s a stoner kid who’s far more a stoner than ever was Shaggy) but its charms are strong and its “Stargate” references worthy of fan-fiction tribute. B

Speaking of childish films, “Earth to Echo” is a fast-paced, found-footage jumpy cam version of “E.T.” meets “Goonies” as a group of school kid pals find a robotic alien near their housing development. The one their being forced out of. (That was the kick-off of “Goonies,” recall?) Using iPhones and video cameras to record their every moment to save Echo -– he’s metallic, bur cute, chirping, and a bit void of personality -– the kids run up against Big Brother villains, find a female pal along the way, and in a funny moment, find the cool older brother asleep in a bathtub as a party. They take his car. Harmless and sweet, I think my young self would have grooved to the film’s adventure. Even if the stomach and brain of my current body fell camera seasick. One of the boys, Reese Hartwig, eerily reminds me of a school friend. B

Another flick I took the niece and nephew to is “Night at the Museum: Secret of the Tomb,” the third and apparently final entry in the comedy-adventure series with Ben Stiller –- he once long ago of grungy grown-up films -– as a guard at the New York Museum of Natural History. You know the drill, right? Sun goes down, the exhibits come alive, Easter Island head, dinosaur, Teddy Roosevelt (Robin Williams), and cowboy (Owen Wilson) included, all mucking about, making “education” fun. And action packed. Here, the magical stone that powers our heroes is dying, and Stiller must zip away to London’s history museum to save the day. Why? Um, up ticket sales in Europe? It’s only mildly funny, despite a great M.C. Escher gag that plays like a classic 1980s A-Ha video and a cameo from a winking X-Man. Dan Stevens (“Downtown Abbey”) impresses as Lancelot. Williams? My heart breaks again. RIP. B-

The Boxtrolls and Mr. Peabody & Sherman (both 2014)

What an odd time for animation. Even if we watch a film where the plot only ever hums and characters never pop, we can still marvel at the onscreen techno wonder. Everything looks amazing! “The Boxtrolls” and “Mr. Peabody & Sherman” – the former stop motion mixed with CGI, the latter all CGI – are prime examples. Hum. No pop. “Boxtrolls” comes from studio Laika, who made “Coraline,” an edgy horror tale for cool kids. But “Trolls” misfires with title characters -- tiny ogres live under a Victorian-era city and dress in discarded cardboard -- that fail to spark or overcome their human counterparts, including a status-hungry villain (Ben Kingsley) with a penchant for cabaret. Bummer. Only a fourth-wall-crashing Monty Pythonesque riff on “free will” fired my brain, during the end credits. A remake of the old cartoon shorts about a time-traveling dog and his not-so-bright human boy, “Peabody” is full of a breezy slapstick, bad puns, and warped histories of the Trojan War, Mona Lisa, and more. It relies on poop jokes and greatly underserves a female companion, but it gets in a Mel Brooks cameo as Einstein, and I love Mel Brooks. Boxtrolls: C+ Peabody: B

The Book of Life (2014)

Trailers for “The Book of Life” promised a gloriously animated supernatural vibe from King of the Weird and producer/writer Guillermo del Toro. The film delivers. Maybe not to the heights of “Pan’s Labyrinth” or animated siblings “Up” or “Coraline,” but enough that I left the cinema awed. Heavy on the wood and stone art of Mayan and Spanish cultures, “Book” has a literal bookend story of ragtag school kids visiting a museum and through a hip tour guide (Christina Applegate) learn of the feisty Mexican beauty Maria (Zoe Saldana) who becomes a coin in a bet between gods Xibalba and La Muerte, the after-life rulers of the Land of the Forgotten and the Land of the Remembered. Maria, see, is chased after two men, a reluctant bullfighter (Diego Luna) and a seemingly invincible soldier (Channing Tatum). The story is deep and wondrously dark and riffs on Radiohead’s “Creep.” Huge sticking points: Our gal still is made to choose her hubs to be. Ice Cube as God is so very Special Appearance By Ice Cube, the film’s magic bear breaks. B+

The Black Stallion (1979) and Walking with Dinosaurs (2013)

The perfect examples of the most polar of children’s films. The best. The worst.

The Francis Ford Coppola-produced “The Black Stallion” is one of my absolute favorite films to watch, it’s cinematography unparalleled, and I knew that awe even as a child, although I had no idea about cameras or light or imagery. It was instinct. I knew I was watching something special. 

This is an emotionally-charged and assured film so confident in its story, human and animal actors, and visuals that an entire 30 minute section plays with do dialogue, only music (by Carmine, Francis’ father) and sound effects as a young boy (Kelly Reno) lost on an island befriends a rampaging horse, the Black, after the two are thrown from a sinking ship. 

No movie would do that now. The trust in children to *get* emotion and relationship, no explanation needed, is gone. (Just wait a few paragraphs to see.)

Also gone: The nerve to have a child onscreen breakdown, as Reno’s boy tells his mother (Teri Garr) months after the fact of his father’s death on that sinking ship, and that he did not save the horse’s life, but it saved his life. That scene wrecks me still, and I’m 40. 

Reno, by the way, gives one of the great child performances of any film, much of his performance relying on eyes or body language, his interaction with the horse. A long, wide shot – uncut – of Reno offering the horse seaweed to eat is stunning, visually and through acting and framing. 

And patience. That’s a compliment. We watch the relationship between the boy and horse birth and grow. A lesser film would have cut, moved on. 

Yes, the story goes to the races, literally, with Mickey Rooney (God, he’s so grand here) as a trainer, but so what? This is pure adventure, beautifully told by director Carroll Ballard and photographed by Caleb Deschanel. (They later made the equally smart, deeply emotional “Fly Away Home.”) 

Now, the recent BBC-made “Walking with the Dinosaurs” is the full opposite, poison to a child’s mind as “Black” is a gift. In short, I hated this film like no other that I have since 2004’s “Phantom of the Opera” or 1997’s “Batman and Robin,” films that have nothing but visuals fireworks and effects endlessly vomited on screen as painfully inept dialogue and pop-music music hammer constantly and ceaselessly at any sensible person’s ears and soul. 

(It doesn’t help that I watch these films back-to-back.) 

We open in present day as a sullen teenager –- we know he’s awful because he wears a hoodie, instant fashion accessory for human scum I suppose –- talks in movie character exposition to his best pal via cell phone about being stuck with his uncle and sister on a dinosaur dig. Yes, really. Stuck. 

No worries, though, as a talking bird – voiced John Leguizamo – soon lands and tells teen boy about the winders of the dinosaurs. Here we flash back millions of years to a dino family of father, mother, and new hatchlings, including runt of litter Patchi (Justin Long) as their dino heard makes eats, travels in season, and avoids hunting beasts. So, nothing happens. “Land Before Time” was better.

The story is abysmal and simple-minded, jumping to jokes about poop showers after another dinosaur defecates on baby Patchi. More pop and shit jokes follow. Really, if you want your child to repeat “poop shower” on end, this is your bag. Of shit. That Patchi is a moronic child is of no help. 

Leguizamo narrates in a cringing, whining voice every pierce of action as if we cannot see it, and throws out witty sayings such as, “Don’t get too attached, this place will be an oil field one day.” He says, “whatever!” a lot. He makes pop culture jokes that fall flat. 

The voice actors talking for the dinosaurs re-explain everything going on, for the really stupid audience. When the father dies on screen, we are told he is dying on screen. “Stallion” uses silence to tell its story. “Dinosaurs” won’t shut up. 

The talking is ceaseless and grating, and when it pauses, light FM music that could lead to elevator suicides, pops in. 

There is always noise. Constant noise. Every time a new beast appears, the film stops dead so a random girl can repeat the name of the beast and spell it out. I cringed every time. None of the character’s mouth’s move, so we’re led to believe all the talk to telepathic or the animators could not swing mouthing. 

At one point this movie was to be a near-silent film, only a small bit of narration. The studio -– 20^th Century Fox -– got scared, and brought in the voice “talent” and the poop jokes because they think children are stupid or trusted to pick up on story beats. Every frame is a condescending slap to any girl or boy who enjoys learning.

“See and feel what it was like when dinosaurs ruled the earth,” the tagline promises. No. Dinosaurs didn’t laugh. Dinosaurs didn’t make movie references, or jump in rivers to save their girlfriend. Dinosaurs didn’t make poop shower jokes. Nor did any dinosaur ever bet money on another set of dinosaurs fighting. Nor did ninjas exist back then. 

I’ve read suggestions to watch the movie with the sound off. That won’t help.

Black: A+

Dinosaurs: F- (I have not given a film this grade in a decade. A regular F will not do.)

Boyhood (2014)

Filmed during a 12-year period, Richard Linklater’s “Boyhood” follows a Texan child (Ellar Coltrane) from 6 to 18, from mishaps with pencil sharpeners to flirtations with marijuana and leaving for college. This has never been done before, not with one child, growing, maturing, faltering, and excelling in one motion. Stunt? No. The beauty of Linklater’s astounding film is how small it remains, this is not Gandhi, nor is there was or revolt. Mason plays Wii, watches movies, gets a car, a crappy job, and leaves for college. Mom (Patricia Arquette) struggles to better herself, for herself and her children (the director’s daughter, Lorelei Linklater, plays Mason’s sister), while dad (Ethan Hawke) takes decades to mature. Mistakes are made as mom remarries, and sees those relationships unravel fast, while dad quite can’t nail child interaction. Mason photographs. If there’s any “enemy” here, it is alcohol. Addiction, as empty escape. Linklater has Mason realize that trap on his own, observing, tasting for himself, observing, realizing. Coltrane’s performance is so natural, you buy him as Mason, unsure of where fiction and reality divide, and one cannot help but get swept up in Linklater’s ode to ordinary family life, drama, and love. A

P.S.  I'll revisit this film again and again, as I feel I will react to as I did “Tree of Life.” It is that good. That mind and soul altering. 

The Great Muppet Caper (1981)

“The Muppet Movie” behind him, clearly made for and dedicated to the unbounded imagination of children, literal and those of us north of 39, Jim Henson moved forward with “The Great Muppet Caper” as a 1940s mystery movie that’s honest to God something made for himself, with a wink of genius satire. Once again in the “We’re making a movie” vein, Kermit the Frog (Henson) and Fozzie Bear (Frank Oz) play twin (!) newspaper reporters who get caught up in a diamond heist masterminded by Charles Grodin against his diva sister (Diana Rigg) in London. Along the way, they meet Miss Piggy (also Oz), and end up staying in a hotel populated by other Muppets (Scooter, Animal, etc.), and ride bicycles, drive in a bus, break in into a museum, and skydive. The bike scene blew my 7-year-old mind in 1981, and still does. Henson directs this go-round and it’s just a magical romp that again let’s children be in on the joke, no cynicism. Happiness. Best gag: Kermit teaching a taxi driver (Beauregard) to, well, drive, when the guy does not understand straight from reverse. New films pale. A

ParaNorman (2012)

First off: An admission. I held the real ParaNorman the day after watching Laika Animation kid comedy/ horror “ParaNorman,” the studio’s stop-motion follow up to 2009’s “Coraline.” I was and remain in awe. This tale of a loner boy (voiced by Kodi Smit-McPhee of “The Road”) who can see and talk to the spirits of the dead –- including his own late grandma -- is not as grand, terrifying, or eyeballs-out amazing as the earlier film, but directors Sam Bell and Chris Butler had no room to go up. Oh, well. Naturally, Norman’s powers do not sit well with family or teachers, and when the boy starts seeing tell-tale signs of doom for his witch-obsessed town, every small trace of luck he has vanishes. Next up: Hero time. This creepy cool film bucks rules and isn’t afraid to go edgy as Norman once refers to the “F” bomb without saying it. The attention to detail astounds: Bony fingers peel wood, and the boy’s zombie slippers are a sight to behold. Only the ending sinks with too many story pauses and a complete lack of the grandmom who previously said she’d always protect Norman. Story hiccup? No idea. A marvelous watch. A-

Ender’s Game (2013)

I have not read “Ender’s Game,” but I imagined it a sci-fi “All Quiet on the Western Front,” with children pushed into war, facing the horror of taking another life or forfeiting one’s own. 

That was my thinking going into this epic with Harrison Ford as a ruthless military commander and Asa Butterfield (“Hugo”) as the young hero nicknamed Ender pushed into action, his talent resting on war game tactics. 

The war is in outer space against arachnid-like creatures that seem a staple of sci-fi, and SyFy. Years ago -– the movie’s past, our future -– the beings attacked Earth. We beat them, barely, but now they’re back. All of humanity rests on young warriors -– rough age 15 -- sent into space to do battle. Why no adults? Youth play better outside the rules. 

Imagine the weight of that. I mean the emotional weight. Horror. Fear. Awe. Being 15 and in outer space. “Ender’s” has none of that. It’s inert, unable to fully comprehend its moral quandary -– child soldiers –- that is, sadly, not uncommon even today. 

The supposed shocking left hook that ends Ender never fully lands because director Gavin Hood (“X-men: Wolverine”) has never lets us see the stakes of these kids’ lives, or those of their families, or Earth. There is no threat. (And any faux threat is poorly faked.)

Everything is implied (badly) as these brainy youth practice Zero G laser tag for a battle they’ll never encounter. The enemy is only encountered in simulations or dreams, and how can we understand *that*. 

Oh, Butterfield is a great actor, and you can see how the boy is not faking playing the smartest kid in the room. But as a character, Ender never hooked me. Ditto Hailee Steinfeld as fellow warrior. She has little to go on, but Supportive Female, and the intensity she brought to “True Grit” evaporates. 

Scenes involving Ender being bullied, once in a shower, fail to bring the least hint of danger. Because the bully is a foot shorter and a blockhead. 

“Game” has no strategy except perfect CGI and important Actors (Ben Kingsley, Viola Davis, and Ford, the latter looking as if he’d just rather retire) standing about to remind us we are watching Something Important. No. 

A film, even YA-targeted, tackling *this* subject matter should leave one horrified, not set up for a spiffy sequel that feels laughably like, well, Spaceman Spiff. “Hunger Games” plays far harder. C-

The Lego Movie (2014)

Nearly a week after seeing “The Lego Movie” with my niece and nephew I’m still on a buzzy high of nostalgia for the hundreds of hours I spent playing with the famed building blocks as a child -- especially during those long Philly snow days –- and the endless clever wit and deft satire that filmmakers Phil Lord and Christopher Miller (both of “Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs”) bring to this 90-minute blast. 

Face it, this movie could have been a shallow toy ad hawking nonsense, I’m looking at you, “Smurfs.” In a playful trick, though, our story instead spoofs mass-commercialization, all those “The Matrix” knock-offs with the savior complex, “Nineteen Eighty Four,” and the legendary (and outright silly) debate between those who see Legos as high-art engineering tools and young children who just want to mess about and play and not worry about rules or constriction. 

(I will not touch the Fox News controversy over the plot and story. Some folks truly need to not make everything on earth a political target, a bit of scotch in a glass, buy a puppy, smoke some pot, the choices are wide and plenty.) 

Our hero is blank-slate construction worker Emmet (Chris Pratt) who gets swept up in a massive adventure as “The One,” the Neo-like hero who can save Lego humanity from its destruction and the walls that separate metropolises from western towns. 

The twist: Emmet really is just a guy, and a dork at that, perplexing and outright pissing off all the real “heroes” around him, Batman -– in a legendary vocal turn by Will Arnett, a squabbling Superman and Green Lantern (Channing Tatum and Jonah Hill, respectively), and a good lot of heroes from “Harry Potter,” “Lord of the Rings,” and -- most impressive “Star Wars,” all toys that have their own Lego worlds. 

This bit could fall into toy ad here, but it doesn’t: Gandolf and Dumbledore squabble, and Billy Dee Williams (!!) as Lando still is sleazy as ever. (The Millennium Falcon bit alone is worth the price of three admissions.) All these guys could be the hero, but it’s Emmet, following the sage advice of Moses/Morpheus do-gooder prophet Vitruvius (Morgan Freeman) who is finally – finally, we get to see this –- full of shit. 

The beginning is shaky, oddly sudden, and the end -- which smashes open the fourth- and fifth- and sixth-walls may be so daring and “out there,” I’m still wrapping my head around it, but I think I loved it. (I saw it coming, but man curve balls are thrown.) It sure as heck is different than anything I have seen come down the pike.

The visuals are amazing as every frame pops and my 11-year-old nephew reached out countless times to “grab” the screen and the plastic “toys” before him. Visual gags come fast, including entire Lego play sets from my youth, and even the cast knocks their own career, none better than Liam Neeson as a two-faced bad cop with a dangerous Irish accent and a squeaky clean voice on the other side. 

Inside jokes are fast as well: The Lego part numbers get a lot of play, a detail even I had forgotten about. An absolute delight and a real high mark from Warner Bros., especially after the rut of so-so CGI animated fare we have seen from normal kings of the block Pixar and Dreamworks. 

“Lego Movie” is amazing endless fun, and puts children center. It also is one of the rare films that excels at 3-D. See it, guys and gals, now. I plan to again. Without the niece and nephew. Just me and *my* 11-year-old self, the one buried deep inside. Still there. A

Despicable Me 2 (2013)

I dug “Despicable Me,” the animated jab at movie villainy played like a Mel Brooks classic made for grade schoolers. Its master stroke: Every movie fan knows it’s more fun to be the bad guy, so why not make a movie about him? There, egg-shaped Eastern European criminal mastermind Gru saw his plans to steal the moon sunk after taking in three orphaned girls with big, wet eyes. Watching him squirm to do anything right was a blast. In “Despicable Me 2,” Gru is back and he’s good from the start, so good, he’ll dress like a pink fairy to give his youngest girl a smile. When he’s recruited by a MI5-type group to take down a new villain, we have no doubt that Gru won’t dream a little Blofeld dream. That sucks the fun out of this story. The movie’s wonderfully done in eye-popping CGI with endlessly funny blink-and-you-miss-it sight gags, and Steve Carrel is a blast as Gru, but we are watching an after-thought. The main point of interest hangs on Gru finding love … or not. Go on, guess. B

The Phantom Tollbooth (1969)

I am a rabid Chuck Jones fan. There was or is no better animator, with Jones even surpassing Miyazaki and Disney in my book. No man has better drawn the way a dog stretches under a back scratch, or how any being –- man or beast -– can toss an askew glance at a Murphy moment of despair. So when I sat for Jones’ celebrated full-length “The Phantom Tollbooth,” I wanted to bask in childhood glory. Damn. This tale of a snotty child (Butch Patrick, Eddie of “The Munsters”) who drives a magical kiddie car through a magical tollbooth from live-action San Francisco into an animated world, is not just sparkless, it’s a text book lesson in how not to entertain children. It’s devastatingly preachy with slimy goblins warning of the dangers of doldrums, and kings and fairies warning of the sin of using too many words, or not enough, and watch your posture, and don’t complain! Well, I shall, thank you. Remember how cool those “School of Rock” shorts were? This is School of Impatience. The basic plot -– two kingdoms of letters and numbers are at war –- provides endless possibilities, and demands a smarter remake. C+

The Hunger Games: Catching Fire (2013)

Katniss Everdeen goes “Godfather III” in “The Hunger Games: Catching Fire”: “Just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in.” That’s the story here: One year after the Appalachian teen (Jennifer Lawrence) and her maybe platonic pal Peeta (Josh Hutcherson) survived an Orwellian government’s “Most Dangerous Game” for Youth, she’s sucked back into the blood sport for Round 2, up against fellow veterans that include Hutcherson back as the Cub Scout kid, and Sam Claflin (that awful fourth “Pirates’ film”) as a swashbuckler stud with a secret. Donald Sutherland as the dictator of this FUBAR USA still sparkles evil winks, knowing he’s the Actor King on set. Even Philip Seymour Hoffman as a new Game Master bows to his greatness. This sequel -– like its own source –- digs darker as Katniss finds herself a hero/pawn in a far-too-real game that has soldiers executing old men in public. Lawrence owns this film. Post “Silver Linings Playbook” Oscar win, she could phone it in. She seems the real deal. Truly. Director Francis Lawrence (“I am Legend”) may not have the heart-breaker moments that scored the first installment, but the final shot pumps the blood for more Games. A-

Monsters, Inc. (2001) and Monsters University (2013)

Animation wise, Pixar was knocking out instant classic year after year in the early 2000s, and “Monsters Inc.” stood tall among many gems. The fantastic story: All those shadowy monsters we saw in our closets and under our beds as children are real, and they live in monster city powered by the screams of bed-frightened youth. The kicker: The monsters fear children. Kids are considered toxic, and woe the hairy freak who gets a toddler’s sock stuck to his back. 

The top “scarer” is James “Sully” Sullivan, a massive blue-and-purple horned guy with the voice of John Goodman and a sidekick/manager/BFF named Mike Wazowski that looks like a giant eyeball with legs and arms, and the voice of Billy Crystal. (Just dig the names: Right out of any Philly neighborhood from my childhood.) All is well for these guys until Mike lets in a babbling toddler who mistakes our scary man for a big kitty. Mayhem ensues, with smart genre spoofing and asides as Ray Harryhausen’s name becomes that of the top spot to eat in town and medusa is, umm, a hot lady at work. For Mike no less. 

Every moment – especially John Ratzenburger as an Abominable Snowman with self-esteem issues – is magic, and the film empowers children to not cry but laugh at the dark. How unfathomably cool is that? Besides “Incredibles,” Pixar has no better action scene than a long fight between our heroes against a lizard-like color shifter snidely voiced by Steve Buscemi among thousands of racing, shifting closet doors, each leading to the “real” world. 

 “Inc.” pops and crackles with glee, with Randy Newman’s jazz score tying the knot on the present. The last scene kills.

The sequel, “Monsters University,” is a prequel as we jump back in time to see James and Mike meet during their freshman year of college. Are they pals? No. Rivals. The gist of the story: Our heroes are at college to major in scaring children to land jobs at the power company Monsters Inc. James is a natural, coasting in on his family name, while Mike has mud in his eye, not the slightest bit scary. 

The duo find themselves on academic skids after destroying a prize possession of the dean (Helen Mirren, turning on the intimidation to full blast as a dragon-like scorpion). Along the way Mike and James join the Omega Kappa (O.K.!) fraternity, a bottom drawer of geeks who live with one of their own mothers. Will Mike and James and the team succeed against all odds? Yes! They will. (Debate: Is cheating OK? Well…) 

Pixar is coasting here, railing on “Revenge of the Nerds” jokes and our own love for the first film. Oh, there are laughs -- I dug the old lady librarian from Mordor – but the jazz pop of “Inc.” is sophomoric.

Inc.:  A University:  B+

A.I.: Artificial Intelligence (2001)

Steven Spielberg’s “A.I.: Artificial Intelligence” is a train wreck masterpiece I love all the more because it derails, because the guy who some critics continuously dismiss aims for the sun and misses, but comes oh so close. And leaves us stunned, too. Spielberg could coast on every film he makes. In “A.I..,” he spins wild chances and smashes down a scene midway through so devastating, it leaves one reeling flat, near in tears. 

Inspired by “Pinocchio” and a screenplay by Stanley Kubrick –- a master of cold dread –- Spielberg’s tale follows a humanoid boy (Haley Joel Osment) adopted by a couple (Sam Robards and Frances O’Connor) whose own son lies in a coma. Young, perfect David is a little boy balm until the “real” son Martin (Jake Thomas) reawakens. 

David is programmed to be loved. Martin wants to mommy to himself. Two events paint David as a family danger, and so mommy –- here’s the killer scene -– abandons David in a forest; she weeps, David begs, and Spielberg lays bare every child’s worst nightmare: Your parents do not truly love you, you are a fake. 

From there, the film flies high and nose dives hard as David falls into a nightmare world that involves grisly robot gladiator arenas, needless voice cameos (Chris Rock? Robin Williams?), and a search for the Blue Fairy to make David a “real” boy, just like … Martin? 

I won’t spoil more. Much of it works and a good bit does not as Spielberg takes on The End of the World, but really is pulling out the end of childhood innocence, that blind-faith moment when children firmly believe mommy and daddy are good, and will always be there, keeping you -- all that matters in the world –- safe. Which is more tragic?  

Osment is so amazing. I still bristle he did not get a Best Actor nomination. Unnaturally warm and bright, unblinking, desperate to please, and able to regurgitate a call, he is flawless, yet unmistakably eerie. Early in, tricked by Martin into cutting their mother’s hair, David pleads, “I just wanted mommy to love me. More.” That quick pause, before the word “more,” is true horror for the youngest of us, scarier than any death in “Jaws.” 

Speaking of that classic Spielberg film, John Williams provides the score here and it’s truly one of his best, and with certain beats recalling the wonder of “Close Encounters of the Third Kind.” A-

Jason and the Argonauts (1963)

“The greatest film ever made.” Says Tom Hanks of “Jason and the Argonauts.” Damn it, he might not be right, but he’s not far off. How can you argue? This is absolute movie magic beauty: Giddy childish wonder watching wide-eyed as a group of men take on the gods and battle skeletal beings risen from the ground, all for honor. The director is Don Chaffey, but this is Ray Harryhausen’s gem: The special effects guru dreamed up those skeletons and the myriad giants and monsters and living ships that make up this classic. Screw CGI, this is the stuff of a boy (and girl’s) deepest imagination. The plot veers way off the Greek religious record as Jason (Todd Armstrong), lost son of a dead king, captures the Golden Fleece to –- unknown to him -– reclaim his rightful throne in an adventure that should spawn 100 sequels. Along the way, Jason finds a ship, Argo, brave warriors, and adventure and love, and monsters, and I will stop. Ditch Jason. The hero is Harryhausen. Dig those skeletons battling men to the death. This is what it meant to be young in 1963! A

The Possession (2012)

A girl on the cusp on puberty is possessed by a demonic spirit and spills familial terror as her soul goes dark and her body gyrates in inhuman forms. Familiar? “The Possession” is another spawn of diminishing returns and scene-for-scene re-dos from “Exorcist,” the demon queen of spiritual horror. Here, the girl (Natasha Calis) happens upon an antique wooden box with Hebrew engravings at a yard sale. It calls to her, quite literally. Daddy (Jeffrey Dean Morgan) quickly obliges daughter’s purchase as he wants to soothe her woes as he and mom (Kyra Sedgwick) sign divorce papers. (If the real horror on screen is divorce then it is badly, badly handled.) Emily is taken hold by the box and starts to splinter, distant, silent, and prone to stabbing dad with a fork. All this leads to a finale involving exorcism and a man of God, here a rabbi rather than a priest. (Jewish reggae star Matisyahu plays the role, oddly tone deaf.) Every scene here was done better in 1973, save one: Morgan as the desperate father begs a room full of religious elders for help. One old crow coldly replies, “It is up to God.” That’s chilling. The rest… C+

Knowing (2009)

“Knowing” is forgetting. In 1958 Massachusetts, a frantic girl scribbles seemingly random numbers on a sheet of paper that is then placed inside a time capsule that is dug up 50 years later by another group of children, one of whom is the son of an MIT professor (Nicolas Cage). Widowed, drunk, and sure that God is dead, our troubled hero stumbles upon a code in the numbers -– it marks the date, map location, and death toll of every disaster since ’58 until the end. As in End of Times. Director Alex Proyas (“Dark City” and “I am Legend”) has served up a dark Christian apocalypse thriller with no way out, and if you go for angel starships and religion-heavy films that drop 9/11 tragedy and people burning to death with barely a shrug, and that God naturally only saves white American children, then have at. Not me. This is not deep or knowing, and it does not dare question what kind of god plays this cruel. Stupidity abounds. Dig the scene where Cage uses a magic ID card stamped “Academic” to get by the police. Really?!? Where can I and my wife get that? C-

Jack Reacher (2012)

In “Jack Reacher,” Tom Cruise is the coolest guy in the room who’s miles ahead of everyone else, can fight five guys no sweat, and when he walks by -– even at a Goodwill –- every woman swoons. The college girls, too. Yes, Cruise may be “playing” Jack Reacher, but really he’s spinning on his own ego. And since Reacher is one of those secret Army guys with no personality or background, why not let Cruise do so? He is the main attraction. Sorry Lee Child books fans. Here, Reacher investigates a mass murder carried out by an ex-Army sniper who we know is innocent because we saw another man (Jai Courtney) do the deed. Fear not, Reacher/Cruise will down every villain, right up to the one-fingered evil Blofeld cousin (famed director Werner Herzog) with an agenda so uninspired 007 would yawn. Not Reacher/ Cruise. He coolly threatens, scowls, and drives a Chevelle in a kick-ass car chase that’s a riotous hoot. All of this is carried out as a massacre plot that shies at the shock of violence to get a kid-friendly PG-13. But post-Sandy Hook, when a movie killer targets children, why are we not looking at an automatic R rating? B-

Mama (2013)

Even good-enough horror output from Guillermo del Toro is better than 95 percent of the junk that fills cinemas, and so it is with “Mama.” Here, del Toro is producer, leaving the directing to newcomer Andrés Muschietti, who with sister Barabara on screenplay duties, takes on a Hollywood staple: Children held under the sway of a dark power. The plot follows two girls  (Megan Charpentier and Isabelle Nélisse) left abandoned in the Virginia woods by their mass-murderer father who at the moment he is about to slay his daughters is himself killed by a floating dark form. That’s Mama. Flash forward five years as the girls -– living like animals -– are found and placed into the care of their uncle (Nikolaj Coster-Waldau on double duty) and his girlfriend (Jessica Chastain), who has no interest in family, or responsibility. Creepy, well-played and earned scares ensue. When Nelisse crawls on stairs and becomes dangerously unhinged, it’s no exaggeration to bring up “Exorcist.” Too bad this relies on sketchy coincidences, dodgy CGI for the Mama, and illogical crutches such as men searching dark woods alone at night. (Don’t these people watch movies?) Short of great, it’s worth a watch, with your (?) mother. B