Ocean’s Thirteen brings back a star-studded cast headed by George Clooney, Brad Pitt, and Matt Damon. They are once more backed by Elliott Gould, Don Cheadle, Shabao Qin, Casey Affleck, Scott Caan, Bernie Mac, and Carl Reiner in great support roles.

As always, Danny Ocean (Clooney) co-leads with Rusty Ryan (Pitt) in a deadly, dangerous, and twisting con scheme. In the previous two movies, Ocean, Ryan, and the others have always been motivated by personal desires as well as financial ones. This time it’s more personal. Reuben (Gould) has been beaten out of his fortune by Willie Bank (Al Pacino), who is planning to open the most impressive casino in Las Vegas.

Willie Bank (And don’t you just love the subtle name? Will he bank?) has already been a successful casino owner/operator. All of his casinos before have earned the “Five Diamonds Award” of excellence. Bank expects no less this time. And he shut Reuben out of the deal so that the glamour – not to mention the profit – can all be his.

Ocean and Rusty gather with the rest of the crew to pay their respects to Reuben and figure out what they are supposed to do to get their friend’s fortune back. Reuben appears to have lost the will to live. As an act of courtesy, Ocean offers Bank a 'Billy Martin' — a chance to redeem himself on his own and give the money back to Reuben. Of course if Bank had accepted the proposition the movie would have been much shorter.

So Ocean and his team go to work. The con to get Reuben’s money back is complicated and involves a lot of details. Some of it is realistic, but much of it lies in the realm of fantasy. Still, these movies are confection and are to be enjoyed just on their own.

And they are probably also an excuse for the high-powered stars to get together and play. In Ocean’s Eleven the mix was exactly right. The stars matched the story, and each of those stars got the chance to be an absolute scene-stealer. The franchise stumbled badly in Ocean’s Twelve because the movie seemed to lack a central focus. Some viewers even stated that the film had no plot at all.

The plot in the latest film is apparent from the earliest scenes, but it seems like Clooney, Pitt, and the others are merely going through the paces, hitting their marks and delivering lines of dialogue that are often funny, but too often wide of the mark. The story isn’t as tight as the first one.

In order to explain the premise of the con to the audience, Ocean and Ryan have to describe what they’ve got in place to a new con man who specializes in computer technology. He supposedly is the best at figuring out cybernetic systems. Bank’s new casino is protected by an artificial intelligence, which seems weird because the military evidently doesn’t have those yet. And the fact that it’s an artificial intelligence is never exploited in the film. It’s just one of those near-science fiction explanations to make the job supposedly harder.

Part of the plan involves manufacturing dice made of a special polymer. One of the team (Affleck) goes undercover at the Mexican manufacturing plant where they’re made to get the special polymer into the mix. While he’s there, he ends up taking part in a mini-revolution of blue collar workers against white collar administration. This is truly one of the funnier bits in the film, but it feels a little out of place. It’s a diversion that doesn’t fit in with the Las Vegas scene that’s going on. And even the special dice are not showcased that much later in the film.

Moving the franchise back to Las Vegas seems to be a good idea, though. There’s something about this city that just makes magic for this kind of story. However, even at a 1:53 running time, the movie feels a little long and sags some in the middle. Clooney and Pitt break up those sections with glimpses into their personal lives that are fun, but even those become noticeable as props to keep the plot flowing.

I went to see the movie in the theater with my wife because that was where we’d seen the other two. We wanted to see this one there. It was a big improvement over the second movie, but it still didn’t match expectations fostered by the first movie. If you haven’t seen Ocean’s Thirteen yet, I’d suggest waiting for it on DVD and pick it up to complete your collection or to rent just to watch.

Tonight’s episode, “Homewrecker”, starts out much differently than most of the other of episodes of The Closer. Normally an episode begins with the murder, or with Brenda struggling with some personal aspect of life in Los Angeles or sorting out her relationship with her boyfriend, FBI Special Agent Fritz Howard. Instead, this episode opened up with choppy video interviews involving different interviews the detectives of the Priority Homicide Division. You can tell is a handheld camcorder. As it turns out, the murder scene is being filmed by forensics people for presentation in the upcoming court case, once Brenda and her team of highly trained investigators figure out whodunit.

The beginning plays a little off and not as personal as many episodes do, but it quickly regains that feeling. The story was intriguing, and the mystery seemed like it was over almost as soon as it got started. Which would’ve been a disappointment. But I can always count on the writers to throw in a lot of twists when it comes to Brenda finding out who the murderer actually is.

A mother, a father, and a twelve year old daughter lie murdered in their home. Even as the PHD team is processing the scene and gathering information, a cell phone rings in the attic. When they break into the attic they find the couple’s seventeen year old son strung out on drugs. He claims to have been in the house when his parents and sister were killed — but he didn’t hear anything. It takes Brenda just seconds to totally rip his story to shreds. Then the truth begins to emerge — a very tangled and twisted truth that took me in a direction that I found surprising.

Watching Brenda work is magic as always. She puts together the incongruencies about the case and figures out her trap to bring the murderer to justice and get the confession she needs to close the case.

In the meantime, financial cutbacks at the LAPD have forced the department to release new financial guidelines. According to these guidelines, one member of every team- including Brenda’s PHD team — is going to have to be transferred to a different department or take early retirement. Detective Lieutenant Provenza’s neck is on the chopping block.

The add further stress to her life, which all the viewers of the show have come to love, Fritz — Brenda’s live-in FBI special agent boyfriend — is putting pressure on her to go house-hunting. If she protests and says she doesn’t have time, especially with the triple homicide she’s currently working. But longtime fans of the show know that Brenda hates any kind of change.

I have to admit, the show does play into a lot of fantasy element, but I love it. Case in point, Brenda moved the body at one of the crime scenes. No way, no how would a seasoned investigator do something like that. It corrupts the evidence and interrupts chain of custody. Another point is when Brenda confronts the murderer and ends at dumping the victims’ clothing on the table between them to raise the emotional stakes. That would not be done either. Again, of the chain of custody would be interrupted as well as the evidence being subject to getting tossed out and of the courtroom and the case.

All and all, though, the episode was everything I’ve come to expect the show. The laughs were there, the compassion was there, and — most of all — Brenda’s neurosis and personal problems marked everything she did.

I hope you DVRed this one because it was a classic episode of the series. Also, I hope you recorded the earlier broadcast. The second broadcast of the evening was not aired commercial-free. The season is just beginning! Will Brenda and Fritz find a house? Stay tuned.

I have fond memories of watching classic Winnie the Pooh cartoons as a child but even fonder ones of my parents reading me A.A. Milne’s classic tale of a boy and his stuffed bear. To this day I have a copy of the Complete Tales and Poems of Winnie the Pooh on my shelf. Winnie the Pooh, Piglet, Rabbit, Owl, Tigger, Kanga, Roo, and Christopher Robin are all unforgettable characters that many children grow up loving. I know that I am one of many.

In 1961 Walt Disney obtained rights to the British bedtime classics and he predicted that Pooh Bear and his friends would be huge. The Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh brings together three of Disney’s classic shorts, Winnie the Pooh and the Honey Tree (1966), Winnie the Pooh and the Blustery Day (1968), and Winnie the Pooh and Tigger Too! (1974). All three were combined in 1977. These short cartoons are what propelled Winnie the Pooh out of the pages of a book and into the hearts of America.

In Winnie the Pooh and the Honey Tree, Pooh muddles his way through the acquiring of honey from a bee hive high up in a tree. He rolls in black mud and floats into the sky with the help of a balloon in what has to be an instantly recognizable image; Pooh hanging by a blue balloon as he sings about wonderful honey. I have not watched Pooh in years but I was instantly transported to the moment I first watched him when I was little and I enjoyed it just as much even though I am a little older.

Winnie the Pooh and the Blustery Day won an Academy Award in 1968 for best cartoon short. Walt Disney never got the chance to see Pooh become a household name; he died in December of 1966 before the short was finished. But Pooh and the Blustery Day is one of the most well known of the shorts.

Then we have Winnie the Pooh and Tigger Too! "The most wonderful thing about Tiggers is I’m the only one!" Even now I’m singing that song and making the growling noises in my head. I love Paul Winchell as Tigger, his voice is the perfect fit. While some voice actors might come close, for me there is only one Tigger. In the short Tigger’s bouncing is addressed as Rabbit gets fed up with being knocked down constantly. But soon the friends of 100 Acre Wood realize that Tigger is not Tigger unless he is bouncing.

The Friendship Edition also has some great special features. For the kid in us all, or for that matter your own kids, there is sing-a-long with Tigger, "100 Acre Wood" game, and a bonus short "A Day for Eeyore" (1983). For the adult, well, there is "The Story Behind the Masterpiece" featurette that includes interviews with Paul Winchell, (voice of Tigger) and Jon Walmsley (voice of Christopher Robin), as well as some of the animators.

Isn’t this the way childhood should be? Fun, light-hearted, and while life is not perfect, you have your friends there to help you solve the problems. A childhood would not be complete without this experience and as an adult you will enjoy reliving your own childhood.

Written by Caballero Oscuro

Gypsies. Just the mention of the word conjures images of mystery and danger, but how much do you really know about them? Sure, most people immediately picture a nomadic, hobbled old woman wearing a head scarf and one large hoop earring who might glance at you with a piercing evil eye as she tries to steal your money or your baby. However, as Johnny Depp points out in this film during a brief interview, "what you've believed about these people has been a lie your entire life." The truth about gypsies is far less threatening, and as it turns out, quite enlightening.

As conveyed in this riveting new documentary from filmmaker Jasmine Dellal, gypsies are more correctly identified as the Romani people, an ethnic group scattered across the globe. They are not wandering nomads, but instead have forged vibrant communities in their respective lands. They mostly share a common language and traditions, but have also integrated into their home countries to the point where there is not much that ties them together. This is evident in the range of music styles chosen for inclusion on last year’s six-week concert tour across North America that serves as the basis for this film.

The Gypsy Caravan 2006 tour united five gypsy bands from four countries, and the film follows the tour on the road as well as on location in their homelands. Their musical styles incorporate diverse but related elements like flamenco and brass band, folk music from India, and violin music from Romania. As one performer notes in the film, two of the only things the Roma have in common are their language and their heart, or passion, about their music. The film expertly captures this passion live on stage, but also shows glimpses of their daily lives on tour and back home. While the music might not be everyone’s cup of tea, the film shines by examining the Roma passion and sense of community in spite of their different countries of origin.

As we get to know the performers, we see glimpses of their homes and families in Spain, Macedonia, Romania, and India. These interludes between performances give the film its weight, as we learn to accept and care about these people rather than just enjoy their musical compositions. From the old man who worries about the future of his family when he’s no longer around to support them through his performances, to the “Queen of Gypsies” who describes her life experiences raising 47 adopted children, we see how fascinating their backstories are while concurrently enjoying their vibrant music.

Gypsy Caravan is now playing in New York and opens in Los Angeles on June 29. For additional information, please visit the website.

Written by Fantasma el Rey

American Pastime is set during World War II and is the story of a Japanese-American family’s relocation to an internment camp. Revolving around baseball, jazz, and family, it is a good-hearted movie that tells a wonderful tale but at times takes the all-too-beaten path in doing so. It's an enjoyable film and in some respects one could call some of the themes timeless.

Spanning the years 1941 to 1946 we see how the Namuro family copes with life in Camp Topaz, Utah. Attempting to make the place more than merely livable, they begin to fix the camp by giving it a feel of home. Youngest son Lyle (Aaron Yoo) loves jazz and baseball and aided by the latter was to be the first Namuro to attend college. Then along came Pearl Harbor, bringing Lyle’s dreams to an abrupt end. Lyle grows to hate baseball, rejecting his father’s offer to play on a camp team. Instead Lyle starts a swingin’ jazz band and, to help ease his misery, sells booze and gambles.

He also takes an interest in Katie (Sarah Drew), the daughter of the camp’s military supervisor (Gary Cole). This of course causes greater tension in the nearby town of Abraham. Lyle finds himself at odds with his father and now with Katie’s pop as well. As if that weren’t enough, rebellious Lyle and his respectful, older brother Lane begin to feud over right and wrong. To ease the tension between town folk and “prisoners,” a climactic baseball game is arranged that pits the local pro team, including Katie’s father, a former Yankees prospect, against Camp Topaz’s best. Of course, Lyle makes a return to the diamond in this ultimate showdown.

The Romeo and Juliet love story and the effect it has on the two different families is a story we’ve seen before as are the clashes that go on within the two lovers’ families. The squabbling brothers and the squabbling father and son, while the understanding mother tries to hold it together and play peacemaker, are very familiar plotlines as well. Not surprisingly, the game’s final outcome is decided between Lyle and Katie’s father. We’ve seen these formulas enough and I would rather watch a documentary on baseball and the internment camps, although I can see how it must be told this way in order to reach a wider audience, which allows for some fine performances from Aaron Yoo, Sarah Drew, and Gary Cole.

To his credit director Desmond Nakano does well in mixing actual vintage footage throughout the film. I do admire the fact that he also includes a scene where camp dissidents try to rally other internees to ask questions, like why other Americans weren’t put into camps. The Germans and Italians were also enemies of The U.S. Were they not interned because they were harder to spot, making them less of a target for violence? If that’s the case, then I guess it was for their own protection that the Japanese were locked away and forced on their “trail of tears.”

Overall, American Pastime has accomplished its goal in telling a story about a little known facet of our history and how baseball, that all-American game, played its part by presenting the story in an entertaining way everyone can relate to. When I’m in the mood or if it’s on television I will probably watch again, which is the mark of a good movie.

There’s a scene in Ratatouille in which a food critic is so overwhelmed by the food he eats that it alters his perception. It burrows deep in to his mind, finding a moment so personal and pure that the food itself becomes the embodiment of all life’s joys. Anyone watching Ratatouille, director Brad Bird’s follow-up to his first Pixar animated film The Incredibles, will undoubtedly react the same way the food critic did.

I loved Ratatouille. I loved its sharp and superlative animation. I loved its unexpected telling of a rather formulaic story. I loved the moments of slapstick humor and the darker moments of dread. In fact, it’s hard to find a part of this movie I didn’t love.

When we are first introduced to Remy (voiced by Patton Oswalt), a country rat with dreams of making great Parisian dishes and not of stealing scraps, the film doesn’t seem to have a leg to stand on. Yet, the paced progression of his adventure romances us in a ways rarely seen in most studio animations (none since Bird’s The Incredibles).

The moment Remy fixes a soup ruined by the garbage boy Linguini (Lou Romano), we are hooked into Ratatouille. The Remy/Linguini cooking team (Remy with the nose for cooking controls Linguini’s hands) ends up impressing food critics, the public, and a certain female cook with an eye for Linguini.

Of course, Head Chef Skinner (Ian Holm), who is set to inherit the famous restaurant in which Linguini works until he discovers Linguini is the rightful heir, doesn’t like the new guy getting attention. Likewise, the food critic Ego (Peter O’Toole), who brought the once five-star restaurant down a star, doesn’t want to see any revitalization. Just when Remy and Linguini are in a position to take on both Skinner and Ego, Remy’s lowbrow rat family, from which he was luckily separated, finds him and wants to bring him back to the colony.

Sometimes the hardest part of writing a review is describing the story because it often necessitates talking about plot points out of context. Until you see the moments I’ve described, you don’t really get the full picture of the amazing success that is Ratatouille. It’s an unlikely success to be sure, this easily unbelievable story about a rat using a man as a puppet, but Ratatouille works because it does exactly what great movies are supposed to do: it makes you want to believe.

Yes, there is magic in Ratatouille, but its magic cannot be credited to the Pixar brand. Even more so than The Incredibles, the humor and heart in this film singularly reflect what writer/director Bird has to offer audiences as a true auteur of animated film. While the appeal of Pixar’s sensibility has waned thanks to its last two non-Bird releases (Finding Nemo and Cars), Bird has been a refreshing individual voice who can reinvigorate and reinvent what Pixar has to offer. Ratatouille is the best example of this yet. And thanks to Bird, animation’s master storyteller, Ratatouille is also the best film so far this year, animated or otherwise.

There are underrated movies, dear readers, and then there are underrated movies, the kind that for some inexplicable reason have nimbly avoided working their way into the modern pop culture vernacular. Naturally, some of these so-called "misunderstood films" are entirely worthless, supported only by a feverish group of Internet fanboys who think their taste in cinema is so much cooler than those who spend way too much time munching popcorn alone in darkened theaters on sunny Saturday afternoons. It's okay to dismiss these clowns with a wave of your hand, but rest assured they're laughing hysterically behind your back as you waddle away.

Then there are films such as Phil Joanou's bizarre 1987 high school comedy Three O'Clock High, pictures that have been unfairly ignored by the public at large. And while you may initially consider tossing this admittedly pretentious review directly into the Fanboy Rant wastebasket on your wonky Windows Vista desktop, you simply cannot deny the fact that this truly underrated nerd fantasy remains an unheralded cinematic classic amongst those who worship blindly at the altar of John Hughes. Besides, Buddy Revell could literally mop the floor with John Bender any day of the work week.

Recognize, punk.

Casey Siemaszko stars as the hopelessly dopey Jerry Mitchell, school supply store manager and campus newspaper journalist extraordinaire. After waking up late to a buzzing alarm clock and an unexpected flat tire, Mitchell has the sneaking suspicion that it's just going to be one of those days. To further illustrate how bad a loser's luck can be during those tumultuous high school years, Jerry makes the unfortunate mistake of touching the intimidating Buddy Revell, a notoriously troubled student our hero is supposed to interview for the school paper.

Deeply offended by this unwelcomed physical exchange, Buddy challenges poor Jerry to an old fashioned fist fight in the parking lot after school. Weak, wimpy, and thoroughly overwhelmed, Mitchell keeps his eyes glued to the clock as he desperately searches for a way to resolve this deadly situation without getting his lights permanently punched out. Students hoping for a typical melodramatic high school outing should report immediately to the principal's office.

To those born during or after the decade of excess, Three O'Clock High may seem like a relic, one of those corny old movies your Devo-loving parents simply cannot get enough of. Everything about this film screams "I was made in 1987," be it the soundtrack, the clothes, or the hideously dated high school lingo. However, Richard Christian Matheson and Thomas E. Szollosi's super snazzy script has the rare ability to transcend generations if one can look past the awful hairstyles and the dodgy Tangerine Dream soundtrack. After all, brutal tales of bullies and their spineless victims are as ancient as that weird Jesus fellow and those trippy Romans guys. I read about them in a Holiday Inn once.

Phil Joanou has a natural gift for generating substantial tension, the kind that gradually works itself into a frothy uproar by the third act. It's a tactic that serves the film quite well in the long run. Without that palpable suspense, Three O'Clock High would have shattered into thousands of bite-sized pieces by the hour mark. Hoping that Jerry somehow manages to overcome this life-threatening dilemma is what keeps you glued to tube for the duration, though I will say the destination is just as enjoyable as the journey.

None of this goofy excitement would have been remotely possible, of course, had it not been for a pair of strong performances from victim Casey Siemaszko and bully Richard Tyson. Though pasty and whiny, Siemaszko manages to turn Jerry Mitchell into someone you can pull for, an anti-hero of sorts for the MMORPG-obsessed shut-ins of the world. Richard Tyson, on the other hand, has the distinct pleasure of portraying one of the greatest bullies in cinematic history. Smartly written and impeccably cast, Buddy Revell is the perfect Goliath to Jerry's David, an oddly intelligent fellow with an unhealthy predilection for physical violence. He may be the film's proverbial "bad guy," but he's certainly no villain.

The next time your friends attempt to shove one of those John Hughes confections down your unwilling throat, lovingly suggest they feast their retro-cool retinas upon a neglected copy of Three O'Clock High. This sorely overlooked tale of bullies, victims, and documentary filmmakers is sure to please those who genuinely appreciate the silly cinema this strange little decade had to offer. Those who actually grew up during the excessive '80s will surely find several tender nuggets of mind-numbing nostalgia tucked thoughtfully within this thoroughly enjoyable 90-minute time waster. And on top of everything else, it teaches those savvy enough to seek it out a very important life lesson:

Pain is temporary. Film is forever.

I was grievously disappointed with Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer. I wasn't grievously disappointed with the first Fantastic Four film, just very disappointed. But this second film definitely cut me to the quick. Deeply. I expected so much more.

In what's called, by older comic fans, the Silver Age of Marvel Comics, the arrival of Galactus and his herald, the Silver Surfer, is a high point in the very successful collaboration between Stan Lee, writer, and Jack Kirby, illustrator. In this landmark story, the turbulent sixties' philosophical struggle between the Flower Power hippies and the war machine Establishment is reflected in the relationship between the quintessential flower child, Silver Surfer, and his nasty job for the ultimate status quo Establishment man, the Devourer of Worlds and wielder of the Power Cosmic, Galactus. Aside from making for terrific illustrations used in those nifty psychedelic black light posters, the depth of the storyline — unusual for comic books up until then — was heavy, man, and downright righteous. But you'd not know any of that after watching this film.

Instead, what we get is more standard chuckles between Ben and Johnny, Susan's concern over how their celebrity is ruining her marriage and family plans, along with another one of her "Oh, damn, I'm nude again in public" scenes, and simplistic children's twaddle that completely erases the grandeur, nobility, and greater depth depicted in the comic book, for gosh sakes. Digest that last sentence again: the 1960s comic book storyline had more depth than this movie.

In this film, the Silver Surfer has more depth in his navel than in his relationship with the Fantastic Four or Galactus. More thought was devoted to introducing the toy-potential Fantasticar than the significance of dealing with a power cosmic wielding, mass destruction godlike being whose hunger for sustenance must be fed at all costs. It wasn't bad enough they changed this giant, purple-suited human-like being into a Dyson vacuum commercial, they also had to remove a key plot element — blind Alicia's relationship with the Silver Surfer.

In the original comic book storyline, it is Alicia's philosophical arguments and pleadings that open the Silver Surfer's eyes and long-dormant heart, causing him to turn against the big guy. Instead, Sue Storm just bats her eyes and the Silver Surfer is reminded of his long lost love; how convenient. Gone are the philosophical debates about life in all its forms being important. I suppose that's too sixties for today's more sophisticated audiences.

Apparently, what's more appropriate is writing down to the audience by relying on the usual funny banter and sight gags, with by-the-script Fantastic Four family squabbling. Hello, anybody notice Armageddon approaching yet? While Reed does the disco hustle at his bachelor party, and Johnny dons his Keebler-endorsed blue suit, whatever happened to a little suspense? Except for that brief planet explosion in the opening, more time is spent away from the impending doom than on it. I got it that being a celebrity is annoying, but hey, so is having your planet chewed on like rock candy while you're still standing on it.

Another critical character missing is the Watcher. Another big, toga-robed bald guy, the Watcher does just that. He's an observer and doesn't involve himself in the little problems of life and death. Until he sees the Silver Surfer heading for earth. For the first time, he takes a stand and steps in to hide the planet from Galactus' herald, but fails, leading to the drama that is sorely missing in this film, and the Silver Surfer's redemption.

At this point, you're probably saying to yourself, man, a purple-dressed and toga-robed duo of giants would have been laughable on screen. Perhaps, but you bought everything else up till now, right? You're okay with a flaming man, an invisible woman, a rubber guy, and an orange rock pile with a head, not to mention the Alcoa Reynolds Wrap riding the sky on a silver surfboard without any swim trunks. At least their appearance in the film would have made the story more — ironically — human and visually interesting.

Doctor Doom makes his obligatory sequel appearance. This time he's very interested in the Surfer's mode of transportation, the energy-empowering surf board. While this plot actually does happen in later issues of the comic book, why rush into it here? Planet-eating bad guys not enough? Interestingly, Kirby decided on the hang-ten board mainly because he was tired of drawing spaceships, but maybe his sub-conscious nudged him into this dichotomy of having a being that can cruise the universe at will like some surfer-dude riding out the eternal big one, but only just so far as his servitude to the man would allow, like some cosmic weekend warrior living free in his SUV until Monday rolls around again.

Doom ingratiates himself to the military, and too easily snatches the board away. Speaking of depth, there's much more to Doom in the comic books than you'd ever guess from his weak portrayal here, but at least he does wear his suit of armor and cape this time around. As the Fantasticar makes it commercial appearance — kiddies, it's already available at Toys "R" Us! — Doom fights to keep on surfing, even though the planet's about to be pulverized. Go figure. Maybe he just wants to live up to his name.

Jumping to another issue in the comic book series, Johnny's ability to absorb the Fantastic Four's other powers, which amazingly comes after his run-in with the Silver Surfer, gives him powers like the Super Skrull (Fantastic Four Issue Number 18), and he goes after Doctor Doom. Before that brief showdown, his predicament provides the underpinning for most of the too easy, audience-tested chuckles as wacky antics ensue because of it.

In one of the most anti-climactic "why didn't he think of that in the first place if it were that easy" denouements, all's right with the world as the Silver Surfer realizes the error of his ways and saves mankind. Considering the title of this film is Rise of the Silver Surfer, I suspect a spin-off franchise is in the works. Just think of the marketing potential. I can see the silvery toys lining those shallow shelves now.

Like I said, I was grievously disappointed.

Considering Bridge to Terabithia comes from the same studio and production company behind The Chronicles of Narnia, I was surprised to discover that it wasn’t just some super-light fantasy fare. I never did read the book, and Disney’s marketing department tried hard to exploit the fantasy elements. It was easy to assume it would be just a kiddie fantasy film. I’m glad it wasn’t.

While this story of two kids with tender lives and wild imaginations isn’t a substantial work, it is definitely the solid, family-friendly product we can expect from Walden Media and Disney.

The film follows Jesse (Josh Hutcherson), the only boy in a large family that is having trouble making ends meet. His tough-loving father doesn’t care much for the frivolities of Jesse’s drawing hobby, especially when there are chores to be done around their rural home. Jesse, too, doesn’t see them as anything special until Leslie (AnnaSophia Robb) moves in down the road.

The two quickly form a friendship as they navigate the waters of middle school together. Leslie’s unique, creative take on life inspires Jesse to continue drawing, while the pair creates the imaginary world of Terabithia in the nearby forest. The bullies they face every day become villains, and they battle them together until tragedy abruptly tears them apart.

There is no actual bridge to Terabithia until the end of the film. Jesse builds it to get across the creek that separates the everyday world from his and Leslie's magical kingdom. In the final shot we get all the fantasy elements that are promised in the advertisement, but before that we have to go through a half-hour heavy on middle school pathos.

Because of that, I wouldn’t call Bridge to Terabithia a film the whole family can enjoy. It becomes overwrought and sappy, but not until after telling the honest and inspiring contemporary story a preteen discovering the potential of his mind. Adults may find the latter part of the film a tad immature for the themes it addresses, but for a younger audience, I can’t think of a better way to get its point across.

I’m inclined to call Bridge to Terabithia a coming-of-age tale. Most of those types of films, however, are made for an audience that has long ago transitioned into adulthood. Terabithia is different because it can be a guide for adolescence, not just a retrospective of it. Without the pandering of most children’s entertainment, Terabithia becomes an accessible but honest film for the audience it is trying to entertain.

Special Features:

• Commentary by director Gabor Csupo, writer Jeff Stockwell and producer Hal Lieberman
• Digital Imagination: Bringing Terabithia to Life
• Behind the Book: The Themes of Bridge to Terabithia
• AnnaSophia Robb music video: "Keep Your Mind Wide Open"

In general, I don't like movies that feel like plays. They smack of low-budget desperation and a lack of creativity. If I want to see a play, I'll do just that. Its the same reason I don't want there to be explosions, credits, or trailers at the local playhouse – venues should know what they are. Just look at the vast majority of music videos: the people involved should just stick to making music and leave the film out of it. Unless their names are Michel Gondry or David Fincher.

But I digress (wildly).

A search for "based on play" returns over 10,000 matches, and it seems like about 9,000 of them are based on works of Shakespeare. Unfortunately, most movies based on Shakespearean play suck, with Much Ado About Nothing being one of the few exceptions. Watching Kenneth Branaugh act out Hamlet for four hours just doesn't sound like that good of a time to me, but maybe I'm just not cultured enough. As a "Gen X-er," I was supposed to like subUrbia (also because it was directed by Richard Linklater), but found it to be boring as well – and the thought of Eric Bogosian just bothers me. Glengarry Glen Ross features one of the all-time great monologues by Alec Baldwin, but also feels wildly claustrophobic at times.

That said, I enjoyed Bug. It is most definitely claustrophobic, but since the plot pretty much requires it, it doesn't feel like the filmmakers were forced into it. In a paranoid thriller, tight spaces and the inability to leave said spaces only enhance the tension.

In short, Bug tells the tale of two lost, lonely souls and how their shared paranoia bring them together. Ashley Judd, who has apparently finally been hit with the reality that starring in crappy thrillers does not a good career make, stars alongside Michael Shannon, who played the same role when this was a play. Both do admirable jobs in what many would call "raw, naked" portrayals of their characters, but the real sight is seeing Harry Connick, Jr. playing way against type as Judd's not-too-nice ex-con ex-husband (he even looks like an ex-con, looking some 40 pounds of muscle heavier now than when he burst onto the music scene some 15 years ago).

Judd's Agnes, still in pain from a long-ago traumatic experience, lives a blasé life in a roadside motel in rural Oklahoma, just drinking the days by and waiting in fear for her ex to show up. But when a friend brings over a stranger named Peter (Shannon), the two quietly and awkwardly hit it off, mostly out of their shared loneliness and need for companionship. After a while, Peter's past comes bubbling up to the surface – a detail here (he served in Iraq), a quirk there (he seems a bit too concerned with the thought of bedbugs), and soon enough the two are convinced of a far-fetched conspiracy plot (that I won't spoil).

And really, that's it. Five or so actors, a hotel room that undergoes an eerie makeover during the course of the film, and the creepiest bugs you've never seen before.

Fletch's Film Rating:

"Darn tootin'!"

Fletch writes (hopefully) humorous and informative movie reviews and other pop culture commentary for Blog Cabins. He is also the inventor of the highly innovative and wildly effective Fletch Film Rating Scale.