So you’re channel surfing in the middle of the night and you come across — probably on Encore or Starz! or some other channel that tries to create excitement with an exclamation point — you come across car crashes and stuff blowing up and guns, guns, guns, and reluctant-buddy cops who snipe at each other constantly (one of whom declares that he’s getting too old for this shit, the other one who takes nothing seriously) and you think to yourself: Huh. I didn’t know DeNiro made a lethal-weapon movie. This has gotta be ten years old — how did I miss this?

The computer animation may be lovely — hair is soft and realistic, fire is gorgeous — but that can’t make up for a humdrum script that steamrollers the audience with an overly sentimental story we’ve seen too many times before. As glaciers advance, a woolly mammoth, a sloth, and a sabretooth tiger team up to … more…

When her husband, Newsweek photojournalist Harrison Lloyd (David Strathairn: Simon Birch), goes missing on assignment in the Balkans, fellow Newsweeker Sarah (Andie MacDowell: Town and Country), goes in search of him. Set in 1991 amidst the beginnings of civil war in Yugoslavia, this is a brutal film, in every right way: an antidote to the … more…

And it’s based on a video game. Which narrows the audience down to teenaged boys (of all ages) who are simultaneously terrified of and drawn to caricatures of strong women. Which is basically the audience Hollywood shoots for in general anyway, so it should be looking at a hit here.

I got yer time machine right here. See, you buy a ticket to this new Guy Pearce movie, and 90 minutes later, 3 days have passed by.

The bad news is, you’re a schlub of a guy. The good news is, you’ve just met the girl of your dreams: she’s smart, funny, sexy as hell. The bad news is, her attitude reeks of “Not if you were the last man on Earth.” The good news is, you are, which is making her … more…

The problem with sex in the movies isn’t that there’s too much of it — it’s that’s there’s too little of it. There may be no shortage of nearly naked bodies and sweaty grunting and creaking bedsprings, but that’s just raw physicality — what’s missing is seductiveness, sensuality, intelligence, a sense of the numinous. What’s missing is the notion that our most important sex organ is the human brain.

Director Tom Shadyac is obsessed with cancer kids. He fetishizes their huge, red-rimmed eyes and pasty, transparent skin stretched tight over bald little heads. It’s vaguely disgusting, but he does it anyway.

Being a vampire is hard work. There’s all the practicing of your indecipherable Eurotrashy accent. There’re the constant wardrobe changes. You have to rehearse the snarling and the narrowing of your eyes to denote your immortal ennui. And all that is besides the lounging in coffins and the caressing of creamy, anonymous necks and, of course, the bloodsucking.