Mad Money (review)

Oh, it’s completely implausible, sure, but rather enticing as well: could three low-level employees at a Federal Reserve bank really walk out the front door with wads of bills that had been destined to be shredded?

Fred Claus (review)

It’s got… something, this silly flick that’s just a little bit profound in its goofiness, this wonderland of schtick that touches on the dark flipside of all the ho-ho-ho and enforced jolliment of the Holiday Season(TM).

Superbad (review)

This is why Hollywood mostly sucks: Corporate movies are getting made from scripts written by 13-year-olds who went on to drop out of high school.

Knocked Up (review)

The problem is not that *Knocked Up* is “liberal” because it’s about casual sex and having a baby out of wedlock. The problem is that it is horribly conservative about embracing and enjoying an adult version of sexuality that has moved beyond dorm-room-esque groping.

Pirates of the Caribbean: At World’s End (review)

Oh, thank the gods. Thank crazy Walt Disney’s head in a cryogenic freezer. Thank the army of producers and FX geeks and writers and cast and studio execs and focus-group gurus and everyone else who made this prepackaged, ready-for-synergy-marketing, lowest-common-denominator junk cinema the most cheesalicious, escape-a-riffic it could be.