The Howling, Dog Soldiers, Wolfen, Wolf, Teen Wolf, and An American Werewolf in London (review)

It’s not too suspicious, is it, that the every-28-days, beware-the-moon rhythm to werewolf tales is so similar to the female menstrual cycle? Are lycanthropes a mythic way for men to appropriate some female sexuality, so legendarily mysterious and arcane to the male gender? Werewolves are almost exclusively male, after all, and lycanthropy is almost exclusively tied to a ramping up of male libido. (Insert your own ‘Oh, you’re such an animal…’ joke here.) And it seems like the last 30 years — and in particular the 1980s — were rife with werewolf movies, in a period when women were becoming more sexually independent than they’d ever been before.

Ghost Ship (review)

What a cast: Gabriel Byrne, Julianna Margulies, Ron Eldard, Isaiah Washington! What a waste! What are they doing in a movie so moronic that it doesn’t even deserve to go straight to video without its supper? I know, I know: They’re paying the bills. Perhaps the better question is: Why are talented actors forced into … more…

The Truth About Charlie (review)

Now, there’s not really any overlap between Grant’s niche and Wahlberg’s niche, and in any right-thinking universe, no one would attempt to shoehorn Wahlberg into a Cary Grant role. Unfortunately, as hardly anyone needs to be told and which is amply demonstrated by *The Truth About Charlie,* we do not live in a right-thinking universe.

Abandon (review)

Traffic screenwriter Stephen Gaghan, in his directorial debut, demonstrates how poor execution can doom a pretty good script… his own pretty good script. His suspense drama of an overburdened, emotionally fragile college senior, her missing boyfriend, and the anguished cop who’s trying to find him probably sounded a lot more shrewd and perhaps even profound … more…

Tuck Everlasting and White Oleander (review)

If my mom and I could rewind 25 years, we’d probably be sneaking out to see *Tuck Everlasting.* No, it’s not about a scrappy girl wise beyond her tender years — or wiseacre beyond her tender years. Kids are nicer now, and *Tuck*’s Winnie Foster is just the kind of very nice, respectable, well-behaved girl we all (supposedly) want our daughters to be.

Kat (review)

Great: now I’ve got something else to worry about when the cat’s acting weird. Like maybe it passed through a stygian portal into some infernal realm and has been transformed into a hellbeast bent on rending the flesh from human bones. Danish filmmaker Martin Schmidt’s quietly ooky thriller explores just such a possibility, and don’t … more…

The Ring (review)

There aren’t even very many scares along the lines of ‘This is the part where the whatever jumps out’ in fact, either. No, it’s much creepier, much smarter stuff than that. Anyone can go ‘Boo!’ and make you leap from your seat for a moment. It’s making stuff haunt you even after the movie’s over that’s harder, so not too many movies even attempt it.

Punch-Drunk Love (review)

I erred on the side of giving a guy a second chance (though I still dread the prospect of *Cajun Man: The Motion Picture*), and on the side of not wanting to miss a Paul Thomas Anderson flick, so it’s a little disconcerting to have discovered that Sandler is really quite good here, touchingly so even, and that Anderson may not be.

Knockaround Guys (review)

Vin Diesel just keeps making me madder and madder. Despite his hulking hugeness and the fact that he once worked as a bouncer (or so we’re told — maybe that’s just a good story to tell on Leno), he’s clearly not the thug he’s been playing onscreen for the last few years. He’s written, produced, and directed films — *Multi-Facial* and *Strays* — that have played in competition at Sundance and screened at Cannes. How can someone like that possibly be satisfied playing the grunting, amoral Neanderthal, the one who communicates primarily with his fists?

Bowling for Columbine (review)

Michael Moore is pissed off. Not exactly a newsflash, I know, but nobody is as entertaining when he’s about to bust a gut as Moore is, so his rants are always cause for celebration. Though this may only be true if you’re predisposed to agree with the substance of his rants.