Casa de mi Padre

It’s all in the details with Matt Piedmont’s mock-telenovela, Casa de mi Padre. A handy glass of liquor in an all-out gun fight. A sudden cut to set of miniature toy cars. A decked-out mannequin in the back of a wedding party.

They’re easy to miss. But if you miss them, you kind of miss the point.

Will Ferrell stars as Armando Alvarez in this all-Spanish spoof, the son of Mexican ranch owner Miguel (Pedro Armendáriz Jr.) and brother to the brighter and more successful Raul (Diego Luna). Things go south when it’s revealed that Raul has entered the drug-trafficking business and brings home a new fiancée. Soon to follow are crooked cops, DEA agents, and a hilarious Gael García Bernal as Raul’s two-cigarettes-at-a-time, drug rival Onza.

Add in continuity errors, terrible effects, dramatic zoom shots and a host of gags you’d find in a typical SNL skit, and you’ve got the perfect, outlandish spoof. Except that this one wasn’t. You can’t blame a film for not being as stupid as you thought it might be. Not to say Casa de mi Padre was smart. But for a movie meant to be ridiculous, there weren’t too many laugh-out-loud moments. Several smirks and a few chuckles into it, I was glad the film was only 84 minutes long.

Ferrell takes his Spanish seriously, and Bernal and Luna’s characters are left to do most of the comedic heavy-lifting. Genesis Rodriguez holds her own among the boys and shines on screen as Sonia, the beautiful niece of Onza. (Seriously, she made me want to go buy bronzer right away.) But the stars of the film really were small tidbits in the background. Problem was there weren’t enough of them. Let’s just say I was muy happy my ticket was free courtesy of my Scene card. B-

Directed by Matt Piedmont. Starring Will Ferrell, Diego Luna, Gael García Bernal, Genesis Rodriguez, Pedro Armendáriz Jr. 84 minutes. 14A

By Jelena Djurkic
Dream cast: Helen Hunt, Kate Winslet, Jodie Foster and David Duchovny (but only if he gets to yell out "Scully!")

DVD: Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close

I read this book a really long time ago. Almost seven years ago. I intended to get Jonathan Safran Foer's other book, Everything is Illuminated, which was also being made into a movie later that year, but when I flipped through Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, I had to get it. It was so much more than text on paper. There were photographs, sketches, red pen copy-edited pages, text with kerning running tighter and tighter into black masses. It was so interesting. Unfortunately, the story wasn't so much, but all of its visual creativity made up for it.

When this movie came out late last year, I really didn't care to see it. Of course, it couldn't retain the same innovation of its print form, but there's always room for innovation in direction. But I wasn't counting on it. And I'm glad I didn't, because for the most part, this movie was pretty flat.

Oskar (Thomas Horn) was really close with his dad (Tom Hanks). In the socially-awkward kid's eyes, they were best buds. They had inside jokes, they riddled each other with intellectual puzzles and no one else quite got Oskar like his dad did. So, when his dad dies in the September 11 attacks, Oskar is heartbroken, as anyone would be, and withdraws even further from the world. That's until he finds a key in his dad's closet one day and feels compelled to find out what it opens. His dad must have left it there for him, he thinks, it's another puzzle for him to figure out. So he takes to the city alone, at first, to figure it out.

It's not a terrible story. It's heartfelt and sweet at times, but it's way too slow and repetitive. For two hours, you follow this kid on his search that continues to lead nowhere. He does nearly the same thing everyday. Admittedly, it is more of an emotional coming of age story, and that train progresses, but a little more tension or novelty would have been nice.

What pulls this film through is its tremendous acting, particularly on the parts of Max von Sydow as the renter living with Oskar's grandmother and Sandra Bullock as Oskar's mom. As I've said before, Bullock was snubbed during this year's awards season. While at least Max von Sydow was nominated for an Oscar, Bullock saw nil. Fuelling this outrage was the fact that she won Best Actress two years ago for a performance that was just whatever. In this movie, she was so moving, so emotionally connecting, so convincing. I was completely blown away. What did they not see?!

If there's one basis I can recommend this film on, it's to see Bullock give a truly memorable and award-worthy performance. Otherwise, there's not much else here. B-

Starring Tom Hanks, Thomas Horn, Max von Sydow and Sandra Bullock. Directed by Stephen Daldry. 129 minutes. PG

Silent House

There are a few horrors on my must-see list. Scratch that. Every horror is on my must-see list, there are just some that I absolutely must see at the soonest possible moment. So, I catch them at noon on the Fridays they're out. I did this with The Woman in Black and I did it again with Silent House (and you can probably bet I'll do it for The Cabin in the Woods). Needless to say, I've got very high expectations of these movies, but it's not impossible to impress me; The Woman in Black blew me away. I wish I could say the same for Silent House.

The movie is set in a lakeside cottage, where cell phone service does not reach and furthermore, the electricity and phone lines have been disconnected because Sarah (Elizabeth Olsen) and her dad are packing up to sell the family vacation home. The windows are also all boarded up, so this means that in broad daylight, Sarah still needs to navigate the home with a lantern. All seems fine as the two collect their things, until Sarah's dad is nowhere to be found. It's all made worse when she starts to hear unexplained noises in the house. I won't spoil what happens as things begin to escalate because that's all part of the fun. Is it supernatural? An intruder? Something worse?

Casting Elizabeth Olsen as the lead guiding us through the terror was absolutely the best decision made for this film. She's a brilliant actress (see: Martha Marcy May Marlene and even Peace, Love, & Misunderstanding), undoubtedly Oscar-bound, and she proves her horror chops here. Horror seems a tough genre for acting to me. Either that or it's so undervalued that not enough great actors try out for roles and we're left with over-dramatic shrieking women who seem to have barely memorized their lines. Of course, that's totally a generalization. Olsen is completely convincing. Her sheer tear-inducing terror will get you shaking your boots (or at least have you in fearful, agonizing anticipation of what's about to happen next). The horror of this movie also stems from the dark house in its utter seclusion, where lanterns cast deep unknown shadows within and creaks are amplified.

The directing is also interesting. It plays with depth of field throughout, which you might love, might hate or might be unaffected by, though you'll definitely notice it.

Great casting, perfect setting and creative directing, but why is it so incomparable to The Woman in Black? The story. I'll try not to spoil it, but here's fair warning that you'll know more soon than you know right now. I feel completely cheated by the ending. Throughout, the story is told fairly well and you become invested in the outcome. There were several ways it could have all unfolded and I feel they've chosen the laziest way of all. I hope that if you do see this movie, you'll disagree, because the ending aside, it could have been a whole lot better. B-

Starring Elizabeth Olsen. Directed by Chris Kentis and Laura Lau. 85 minutes. 14A

The Vow

Directed by Michael Sucsy. Starring Rachel McAdams, Channing Tatum, Scott Speedman, Sam Neill and Jessica Lange. 120 minutes. 14A

I saw this movie on Valentine's Day (hold your judgement) and on a discount Tuesday, so needless to say, there was a line wrapping around the movie's entrance. And while I can't say it was completely worth the wait, it wasn't entirely regrettable. Actually, I can't say I hold any firm stance on this movie at all.

I love romances. But that being said, I'm extremely picking about the romances I see. I'm not really into rom-coms, unless it stars Drew Barrymore, though I've seen nearly all the Jennifer Aniston, Jennifer Lopez and Kate Hudson ones, plus more. I'm into what I feel is a representation of true, honest, passionate love, ie. the likes of Moulin Rouge!, Cold Mountain and such. Truthfully, I probably wouldn't have seen The Vow if not for some convincing from my own real life love (and when else better to be lovey dovey than on Valentine's Day). Turns out, it's watchable. Though that's about it.

The story follows young married couple Paige (Rachel McAdams) and Leo (Channing Tatum) who are truly, madly, deeply (cue the Savage Garden song) in love, until she smashes her head through the wind shield in a car accident and forgets who he is.

Full disclosure: I became a Channing Tatum un-fan just prior to seeing this movie. For me, and I'd think most, hosting SNL the weekend before this movie came out probably hurt it more than promoted it because he was so utterly unfunny. I fell asleep after I could take no more of the stripper jokes. Had The Vow actually been really good, I might have been convinced that I was wrong about him, but instead, I've discovered that he's neither good at comedy nor romance. I'm not betting on drama or anything else really.

McAdams was cute and charming as usual, though that wasn't enough to make it through bad writing. The movie a much sadder concept than its execution. I could get teary just thinking about it. I didn't feel for these characters, yet I felt for the real-life couple whose actual story I never really knew. Meanwhile, Jessica Lange could use more screen time (as she always could).

Admittedly, it wasn't as corny as I'd expected. It had potential. It just wasn't executed well. I have an idea! Let's rewrite it! Ryan Gosling can star as the lead, it'll be set in the 1940s in South Carolina and they will share a very passionate kiss in the pouring rain. Ah, much better. B-

Immortals

Photo: Jan Thijs

Starring Henry Cavill, Mickey Rourke, Freida Pinto, Stephen Dorff and Kellan Lutz. Directed by Tarsem Singh. 110 minutes. 18A

Before Immortals started, my boyfriend asked me what I thought the film would be out of 10. "Six," I said, "But I'm hoping it's an eight." When I think about it, that's a strange answer. Why would I see a movie I think will be a six? I guess I thought it had the potential to be as brazen as 300, as visually stunning as The Cell and as epic as the battle in The Lord of the Rings: The Two Tower. But it was none of those. How not-so-surprising.

The Hangover Part II

Photo: Warner Bros. Pictures

BY: Manori Ravindran

Starring Bradley Cooper, Ed Helms, Zach Galifianakis. Directed by Todd Phillips. 102 minutes. R

You know that dismal feeling when you’re watching a film, and everything seems so... familiar? You know all the punch lines, can predict every plot twist, and once-interesting characters are about as engaging as wet paint. Fans of The Hangover will likely experience this very melancholia after the second instalment of Todd Phillips's burgeoning franchise, which is little more than a tired carbon copy of its predecessor.

This time around, it's Stu (Ed Helms) who's getting married, and the destination wedding takes the boys to Thailand. The hesitant groom—still peeved about getting roofied by Alan (Zach Galifianakis) in Las Vegas—refuses to have a bachelor party, instead opting for one ocean-side drink before the wedding.

In true form, the Wolf Pack wakes up the next morning in a dingy Bangkok hotel room with—surprise, surprise—absolutely no recollection of last night's debauchery. This time, they've lost the bride-to-be's little brother (save for his decapitated finger—yuck!), and Stu's not getting married until they find him. The remainder of the film can be summed up in three pertinent quotes: "It's happened again!" "Alan, what did you do?!" and "Bangkok has him now."

Jamie Chung as Stu's fiancée and Paul Giamatti as a hot-tempered mob leader provide some new faces, but there's little else that's fresh about The Hangover Part II except the locale. Car chases, hospital visits, an illicit rendezvous with a stripper: everything fans may have relished in the first film is reharvested with zero toppers. It's as if the entire experience is catered towards moviegoers who don't mind watching the same film multiple times. For the rest of us, it's déjà-vu. 

There is one difference between the two films, though, and it makes Part II even more unsavoury. The latter exoticizes both Bangkok and southeast Asians, treating them as the foreigners deviating from North American norms. Considering Stu, Phil and Alan are tourists visiting Thailand, the disrespect these characters have for the culture is astounding. 

Upon entering a Buddhist monastery, Alan asks, "What is this, a P. F. Chang's?" (referencing a Chinese restaurant chain in the U.S.) while Phil calls the monks a "bunch of bald assholes." Meanwhile, Bangkok's sex industry, poverty and drug trafficking are the only focuses throughout the film—issues which are treated with as much sensitivity as a doormat.

The Hangover Part II has grossed nearly $187-million in the two weeks that it's been out, practically guaranteeing a third dose of unfunny in God-knows-where-next. And if the box office is any indication, it's possible the bankable Wolf Pack—racist or not—will score big again next time. But whether the more selective will stick around for another course of "reuse, reduce, recycle" filmmaking isn't such a sure bet. B-

DVD: The Switch

Photo: amazon.ca

Starring Jason Bateman, Jennifer Aniston, Jeff Goldblum, Patrick Wilson, Juliette Lewis and Thomas Robinson. Directed by Josh Gordon and Will Speck. 100 minutes. 14A

Rom-coms are very predictable; that's just the way they are - especially the mainstream ones headlined by big names, which should be a clear reason to avoid seeing The Switch. If it weren't for the guilty pleasure factor, not to mention directed by the same guys who did Blades of Glory, starring Jason Bateman, and, best of all, based on a short story by The Virgin Suicides author Jeffrey Eugenides. Actually, for those reasons, this film should be awesome, shouldn't it?

Forty-year-old Kassie Larson (Jennifer Aniston) realizes if she doesn't have a baby now, she may never, and seeing as she isn't in a long-term relationship, she decides to seek the help of a donor against the advice of her neurotic best bud Wally Mars (Bateman). Though maybe the reason Wally's so against it is because she doesn't want his little swimmers, she wants Roland's (Patrick Wilson), a man she's never met who needs to money to support his own family. But on the night of her insemination party (yeah, that's right), after Roland's left his "ingredient" in Kassie's bathroom, a drunk Wally steps in to find it and accidentally wash it down the drain, however that happens, and in his drunkenness, finds an easily accessible replacement for the "ingredient." When he wakes up, the previous night is a blank, until seven years later, when he meets Sebastian (Thomas Robinson), Kassie's cute, but neurotic, son.

The Switch follows on the same "I can have a baby without a man" strain as The Back-up Plan, though both backtrack on this feminist idea, saying rather "Yes, I can technically have a baby without a man, but in truth, I will always need a man." It's pretty sad though it would be uncharacteristic of the genre any other way. A woman who chooses to live without the man could only be the woman of a drama or rom-com flop.

Though what makes this film watchable is Bateman and Robinson. Robinson is so perfectly cast as Wally's mini-me and the two make such a believable, offbeat pair. Wally is not your typical beefcake. He's nerdy, awkward and a realist. He is the anti-Matthew McConaughey of romantic comedies (though McConaughey's a pro of the genre in his own right). Then, Sebastian is the tyke-sized version, who collects picture frames and has hypochondria.

However, while this film is more watchable than most rom-coms, it's also a letdown. Blades of Glory was hilarious, though this film falls miles behind that mark in the humour department. And I never would have guessed that a film based work by the author who wrote my favourite book ever could be so banal. I guess that's what happens when you search for reasons to look forward to a rom-com. B-

DVD: A Nightmare on Elm Street (2010)

Photo: Shocktillyoudrop.com

(Semi-ready Freddy.)

Starring Jackie Earle Haley, Kyle Gallner and Rooney Mara. Directed by Samuel Bayer. 95 Minutes. 18A

Samuel Bayer’s reinvention of the Nightmare On Elm Street franchise is essentially just a modernized (when the kids go to sleep, so does their MacBook!) version of the classic you’re-not-even-safe-while-you’re-dreaming story. So much so, it seems like he penned the flick in his happily undisturbed sleep.

The only real difference is between this Elm St. and the old one is the actors (no Johnny Depps here), the time period and a minor, yet totally creepy, change in Freddy’s back-story (Bayer's Krueger didn’t murder kids, he just, you know, sexually abused them and made them paint with blood). The problem is, Bayer forgets to include the best parts of the original series, forgoing quality writing and innovative storytelling for special effects, buckets of corn syrup and creepy backdrops (see: the poorly lit diner, the grungy basement crawl space, the winding empty hallway). He probably thought he was meeting horror fanatics and budding gore whores halfway with his cut-and-dry style, but his lack of imagination just leaves you feeling half-baked.

The one thing he got right was casting Jackie Earle Haley. The dude is superbly creepy as the new Krueger, especially considering he's got monster-sized shoes to fill. He is basically his character in Little Children, with third-degree burn, a Value Village sweater and a fedora. Believe it or not, the only thing he's missing is a sense of humour.

What made Robert Englund's Freddy so legendary – and separated him from the silent killers (Jason, Michael Myers) of classic slasher cinema - was the fact that he knew how to pick out a prime pun, turning what could have been a straight-up creepfest into a campy horror girl's wet dream. Sure, the diss-and-dissect game wore thin after the fifth sequel, but it was the reason you watched Freddy Vs. Jason. Earle Haley’s one-liners, on the other razor-sharp hand however, are deadly serious. And not in a good way. B-

EXTRAS: "Freddy Reborn" featurette,

BLU-RAY EXTRAS: alternate ending, alternate opening, deleted scenes

*This review was originally posted May 10, 2010*

Going the Distance

Photo: allmoviephoto.com
(When Justin met Drew.)

Starring Drew Barrymore, Justin Long, Christina Applegate, Jason Sudeikis and Charlie Day. Directed by Nanette Burstein. 102 minutes. 14A

In the always-expanding kingdom of romantic comedy drama queens, Drew Barrymore has always been the perfect princess. She's charming. She's cute. She's commanding. And she knows how to rock a sparkly cocktail dress. All she needs is a bland-looking prince and she's good to rule. And I think she may have found him in her latest co-star (and occasional real-life boy toy), Justin Long.

Drew's new flick, Going the Distance, may not be Never Been Kissed, but her chemistry with Long definitely puts the cute in meet cute. They're adorable together, the kind of couple that can safely say they're best friends first, lovers second (well, most of the time). Unfortunately, you can't say the same for the crew behind their on-screen courtship.

It's not Drew or Justin's fault their characters aren't quite the modern-day Harry and Sally they seem to aspire to be. Erin and Garrett's love story is actually pretty simple - they meet while playing a vintage video game at a frat-boy watering hole, fall for each other over terrible wine and decent conversation and decide to keep the good going, even though they live on opposite sides of the country (cue the phone sex jokes and late-night YouTube phone party montages). There's even a nice side story about the sad state of the post-recession employment field (Erin is a 30-year-old newspaper intern, Garrett's a record label honcho's bitch boy). But after a while, it takes a turn for the cliched and convoluted - thanks to some overachieving writing, and direction.

Geoff LaTulippe tries to find a cross between Judd Apatow and Nancy Meyers with his sorta-charming script, alternating between genuine cuteness and unnecessary (but funny) crass. The mix is fun, at times (like when Erin and Garrett's spontaneous, dining room hook-up turns into a late-night family dinner party), but more than often, it just feels forced (see: the tanning gag, which feels like a less funny version of the Kelly Clarkson moment in The 40-Year-Old Virgin). Although it's great to see Drew have some not-so-PG moments (she swears and everything!) with co-star and on-screen sister, Christina Applegate. Their frank girl-to-girl sex talk belongs in a much cooler, more innovative movie (that needs to be made).

Going the Distance is documentary director Nanette Burstein's (American Teen) first fictional feature and you can really tell. She's like a movie man whore - trying to do so many things at once, but never really committing to any of them. One minute she's channeling her inner art-house auteur, shooting the couple with a shaky hand-held. The next she's going for high gloss and silly, overproduced illustrations. While Erin and Garrett take to texting, e-mail and instant messaging to help ease their long distance drama, Burstein seems to just be phoning it in. B-

DVD: Babies

Photo: amazon.com

Directed by Thomas Balmes. 79 minutes. PG

Let's start with the facts. Babies are cute. Seriously. They have chipmunk cheeks, wide eyes and giggle the sweetest little giggles ever. OK, so they poop and spit and cry too, but when they're miles away and behind the lens of a camera there's none of that to deter that fuzzy wuzzy feeling of overwhelming cuteness.

The film follows four babies from birth: Ponijao in Namibia, Mari in Japan, Bayar in Mongolia and Hattie in America. That's really the gist of it. It's kind of like a National Geographic flick where the furry little lion cubs are replaced by our own kind, as the film focuses on how babies interact with each other, relationships with parents and learning, of course, mixed in with some magnitude 10 aww-ing.

Clearly, it's a very light film. It's short. It's simple. And with little dialogue, and even less understandable dialogue at that, it feels more like a flip through a baby's first photo album rather than a documentary. It kind of defies what you'd expect from most docs, which is super-serious hard thinking. Instead Babies lets you laugh and zone into cuteness overload.

But if you're looking for a little more substance, you can find it too. Babies is like a four-part case study reminding us that humans are animals too. Babies learn, adapt and form relationships. It's like anthro class 101, without the exams and lectures. You take from it what you will, wondering why four babies learn to walk in four slightly differently ways or how they react affectionately to animals or why a toddler would push his baby brother in a stroller and leave him stranded in the middle of a field of cows. (Actually, Bayar seemed constantly deserted in the middle of nowhere. What a nice brother...)

Of course, some might not be able to get over the thought that the film is a little pointless. Plot is literally non-existent (but characters are more than interesting). To enjoy this film, you need to accept that there is no deep narrative to be found and commit yourself to being swept with cuteness to no limit. B-

The Last Exorcism

Photo: Allmoviephoto.com

(Getting in the spirit of things..)

Starring Patrick Fabian, Ashley Bell, Louis Herthum and Caleb Landry Jones. Directed by Daniel Stamm. 87 minutes. 14A

Christianity can be a scary, scary thing in Hollywood. Especially in the right, slightly-insane hands. But when it's watered down and teen-friendly, it's can be about as frightening as communion. You know you're not drinking the Lord's blood or eating his bod, but you go along with it anyway, hoping that you'll get rewarded in the end. You could say the same for Hollywood's latest crucifix-filled creep-fest, The Last Exorcism.

Although the finale will have you praying for a armrest buddy (or two), the majority of The Last Exorcism is too slow to make you even think of burying your face in your summer cardigan. In fact, you'll probably laugh more than you'll scream. Like when the film's protagonist, preacher Cotton Marcus (Patrick Fabian, or as you probably know him, Professor Lasky from Saved by the Bell: The College Years!), convinces a congregation to praise the deliciousness of banana bread. This random hilarity isn't unwelcome, it's just surprising, especially considering what we've come to expect from films dealing with demonic possession.

Like that other exorcism movie (I ain't talkin' Emily Rose - although there's also definite similarities there), the film follows a faith-less church leader (Cotton) as he attempts to tame the spiteful spirit that has taken over the body of a teenage girl. Taking Linda Blair's spot is Ashley Bell, who plays Nell, a seemingly sweet, but secretly Satanic, country gal, who helps her dad (Louis Herthum) and brother (Caleb Landry Jones) on the farm by day, and kills livestock by night. Cotton hears about Nell through a strongly worded letter from her father, which he picks out of a pile of pray-filled packages. This random selection, he says, will be his "last exorcism" and will be documented by a two-person TV crew.

While the story sounds like The Exorcism for the Paranormal Activity generation, it's actually a lot more interesting. At least from a thematic standpoint. Unlike the so-called classic, The Last Exorcism is not fully focused on Nell's ungodly behaviour. It's actually more about Cotton (in fact, the original title was just his name) and his personal quest for belief.

After years of successfully faking exorcisms (with the help of some invisible wire, smoke machines and Halloween soundtrack sounds), Cotton has become disillusioned, pondering the validity of Satan, and in turn, God. He's gotten to the point where he doesn't even read the letters sent out to him before he heads on a job (You can bet he'll regret that one...). But as the film goes on, and Nell fails to recover from the normal treatment - a whole lot of praising, holy water and chanting - he starts to reassess his religion. It's a fascinating journey, especially with Fabian at the helm. He's the perfect pastor - charismatic as hell (pardon the puritanical pun), even when he starts shaking in his three-piece suit.

Bell also does a great job as Nell, moving back and forth between the low-key, perfectly pure daughter and the over-the-top, epically evil demon vessel. She doesn't need any garish, ghoul make-up or bright green bile to prove that she's gone to the dark side. It's all in her mannerisms and vocal inflections. Bell did all her stunts, including bending her back way further than it should go. At least for humans.

Unfortunately, Bell's acrobatics are the only really irksome aspect of The Last Exorcism. Although it's being advertised as an Eli Roth (Hostel, Cabin Fever) film, he's just a producer. (Sorry, gore whores.) There's little to no blood shed here, save for a fairly brutal scene involving a house cat. In fact, we see more plasma in a few children's drawings than we do in the real scenes, which in some ways is even creepier. Just not quite creepy enough. B-

Charlie St. Cloud

Photo: Allmoviephoto.com

(Cloudy with a chance of heartthrob.)

Starring Zac Efron, Charlie Tahan, Amanda Crew, Ray Liotta and Kim Basinger. Directed by Burr Steers. PG

As much as everyone loves to make fun of Justin Bieber, we really should bow down to the shaggy dog of a tween idol. Why, you non-Bieblievers ask? He allowed Zac Efron to break free his long-reigning post as the biggest name in superficial, song-and-dance man-boy-dom and get a start on his post-High School Musical big-screen life.

Since Bieber, his "Baby" face and his perfect bangs hit the charts, Zac has backed out of a safe-yet-leading role in the Footloose musical remake (a somewhat-wise decision, depending on who you're talking to), made a raunchy quest-appearance on Robot Chicken, starred in his first drama (the highly ignored Me and Orson Welles) and filmed the movie that will either be his Romeo + Juliet (read: maker) or his Summer Catch (read: majorly awkward breaker), Charlie St. Cloud.

The hopelessly dramatic film is what every Nicholas Sparks movie should be these days, but isn't. Whereas recent Sparks outings (Dear John, The Last Song) split their so-so stories between lukewarm lust and non-surprising death scenes, Charlie St. Cloud has a clear, heart-wrenching-yet-heart-warming focus.

Charlie St. Cloud revolves around three equally engaging residents of a small sailboat-filled fishing town: Charlie, a teenage sailing champ (Efron), Tess, a local sailor girl (Amanda Crew) and Sam, Charlie's Red Sox-obsessed little brother (Charlie Tahan). At the start of the film, Tess is a lovesick outsider, looking in on Charlie's seemingly perfect professional (they sail together) and personal (they play ball together every night at sunset) partnership with Sam. But after Charlie loses his little bro in a terrible car accident, she heads to college and loses touch with her former crush. Meanwhile, Charlie, still traumatized by Sam's passing (he was the driver), returns to the duo's mid-nightly meeting spot daily and plays catch with a ghostly version of his brother.

Fast forward a few years. Tess is back in town for the summer and Charlie, now a graveyard janitor, is still hung-up on making it up to Sam. But after the two connect over her father's weedy headstone, Charlie starts to let go of his guilt (and Sam!) and give into some quality summer lovin' with the gal. As he gets closer to Tess, he begins to lose Sam, steering him into the eye of the summer drama's storm of a story.

Charlie St. Cloud may be pretty melodramatic in the storyline department, but it's the kind of escapist chick flick drama every moviegoer needs at least once a summer. Sure, the writers seem to have gone to the Dawson's Creek school of overly educated teen-speak (sample Tess dialogue: "He flummoxed me.") and the plot seems like a mishmash of Lifetime dramas. But the acting is better than you'd expect and the final twist is perfect for the willingly teary kind.

Speaking of crying, watch out for the tearjerkiness of Mr. Tahan (I Am Legend, Nights in Rodanthe). I'm sure it helps that he looks eerily similar to Zac and has an natural, tease-y-going brotherly vibe with the former Disney star, but the boy genuinely pulls at your heartstrings, especially during the later scenes where he has to cope with the slowly fading presence of his living brother. I won't elaborate, but don't go without Kleenex if you have a sibling who is 11 years old and loves pizza a bit too much.

Zac also creates some moving moments with his take on Charlie St. Cloud's title character, providing us with both extended scenes of necessary eye candy and genuine distress. He's not perfect (his eyebrows tend to furrow a whole bunch when he's distraught, excited or pensive) and really, neither is the movie, but his abs, and boy band baby blues, really are. And that's just enough to keep the wind in his super-jacked sails. B-

Grown Ups

Photo: allmoviephoto.com

(At least they're laughing.)

Starring Adam Sandler, Kevin James, Chris Rock, David Spade, Rob Schneider, Salma Hayek Pinault and Maya Rudolph. Directed by Dennis Dugan. 142 minutes. PG

There was a time that Adam Sandler could do no wrong. His name on a film was a stamp of funny. But then there was Funny People. Ok, so Adam Sandler could do no wrong in comedy. His serious films were, well, serious. But then there was Grown Ups. Five fan-favourite comedians in a secluded lake house for a weekend. Hilarious, right? Eh, not so much.

But this was supposed to be Sandler! This was Mr. Deeds, Billy Madison, Little Nicky, Big Daddy, Happy Gilmore! What went wrong? Too much comedic competition? Too much pre-hype? Sandler is growing up? Let's all hope it's not the last one. Maybe all it needed was to be named after his character. But it couldn't have been because it would have stolen from Chris Rock, David Spade, Kevin James and Rob Schneider. Maybe that's the problem, Sandler isn't an ensemble actor. Funny People had Sandler working against Seth Rogan, Leslie Mann, Jonah Hill and Jason Schwartzman. Maybe Sandler just doesn't make Sandler films anymore.

Grown Ups follows a junior high championship-winning basketball team as they reunite 30 years later for their coach's funeral and decide to spend the weekend together with each other and their fams. Over the weekend, they relive childhood memories, help their kids build better ones (sans texting and iPods) and rekindle flames with their wives. It sounds picture book but it's not really. Then again, it's not really much of anything else either.

One of the biggest problems with an ensemble comedy is that someone will always be the funniest and in this film, it was James by far. With his KFC hat and goofy dances, he's hilarious. Even Spade was funnier than Sandler and Rock, the two with probably the biggest fan bases for their hall-of-fame-worthy comedy. So Spade played the drunken perv chasing after Rob's (Schneider) daughters. None of the other four could have done it better.

Another problem with this film was that Sandler fans saw it as a Sandler film and aside from the fact that there were four other stars, nothing else in this film seemed to sway us otherwise. It clearly wasn't a Rock movie, Spade has been in the background too long and James hasn't established the "James" film yet. It was a Happy Madison film so right from the start, you got that jump that this was going to be good. Ok, so Happy Madison has also done Spade, James and Schneider films but Happy Madison is a sure Sandler cue. It also means Happy Madison faces: Norm Macdonald, Steve Buscemi, Blake Clark and Jonathan Loughran. The trouble with this is that Grown Ups wasn't actually a Sandler film in the way that The Waterboy and Big Daddy were. It was more of a Sandler-and-famous-friends film forced into the shoe of a Sandler film.

Although it might have been a bit of a disappointed for Sandler fans, it wasn't terrible. Against most other comedies out there right now, it's worth a watch, just not a dozen re-watches like Billy Madison. B-

DVD: She's Out of My League

Photo: Amazon.com

(Baruchel's in a league of his own.)

Starring Jay Baruchel, Alice Eve, T.J. Miller, Krysten Ritter and Nate Torrence. Directed by Jim Field Smith. 106 minutes. 14A

It's no secret that I love Jay Baruchel (check out my glowing review of his awesome performance in The Trotsky here), but really, the dude deserves the praise. He's on one hell of a roll.

She's Out of My League was Baruchel's first big movie of the year (aside from rockin' the big screen Russian revolutionary style, he also voiced the main character in the critical, and box-office hit, How to Train your Dragon and took on the role of the sorcerer's apprentice in, well, The Sorcerer's Apprentice, which is out July 16) and although it might not be his best, it's still worth a look.

Average Joe, Kirk (Baruchel), meets a blonde bombshell named Molly (Alice Eve) at the airport (he works as security there). She forget her phone. He returns it to her at a random party. She asks him out on a date to a hockey game as a reward. They start awkwardly dating. Sounds like a sweet story, and bound for slow-motion montages set to the latest Liz Phair/Vanessa Carlton/Michelle Branch reincarnation's hit single, right? Wrong.

Sure, on the surface, She's Out of My League seems like just another meet-cute. But actually, the cute is more or less masked by some Apatowian (totally made that up) dirty jokes. There's definitely a romantic component and ending (sorry, you knew that right?) but the fun really comes from Kirk's awkwardness (dude wears the same colour jacket as the waiters at a fancy restaurant) and his obnoxious friends and family, who insist on insisting that he is not worthy of his "10" of a girlfriend. Their low-brow jabs get a bit tiring after a while, but there are some genuinely funny moments amongst the meh ones. Especially when they meet Molly's ex, hunky fighter pilot, Cam (Geoff Stults) - and basically get insta man-crushes.

There's nothing particularly ground-breaking about the rest of the movie, however. The visuals are nothing more than big-budget comedy acceptable and the story is not super original (especially in these geek-boy-friendly times). But it's got a sweet message (you don't have to be highly-rated on some subjective scale to be sexy to somebody), and some seriously quotable moments (see: anything Nate Torrence's Disney-loving character, Devon, says, or Kitty Foreman - a.k.a. Debra Jo Rupp - as Kirk's mom). Think Forgetting Sarah Marshall minus the tropical locale and crotch shots, or Knocked Up, minus the pot, and the tiny-bit-too-long ending, or well, pretty much every other Apatow movie, minus the rest of the Apatow crew. In other words, think (almost) really awesome.

Despite his slightly gangly exterior, Baruchel's Kirk really is the guy you'd want to bring home to mom and dad (well, unless you're in the middle of a hot-and-heavy makeout sesh, as he will learn the ahem, hard, way). He's kind. He's funny. And really, he's kind of cute (in that so-hot-right-now geeky dreamboat kind of way). And so is this movie, if you just give it a chance. B-

EXTRAS: Director commentary, blooper reel, deleted scenes, an alternate (or rather, extended) ending, "Devon's Dating Show" (a romance guide for guys)

DVD: My Name is Khan

Courtesy: AllMoviePhoto.com

(Khan and Kajol make a serious issue relatable)

Starring Shahrukh Khan and Kajol. Directed by Karan Johar. 165 Minutes. PG-13

Romance, heartbreaking moments and silly humour are the perfect combination for a Hindi film. Throw Shahrukh Khan and Kajol into the mix and you’ve got a Bollywood heavy-hitter. My Name is Khan is no exception.

The film opens at an airport in the U.S., shortly after the 9/11 attacks, when Rizwan Khan (Khan), who is a Muslim, is pulled aside for questioning on assumption that he may be a terrorist. Khan (the character), who has grown up with autism and Asperger’s Syndrome, has just moved to San Francisco to live with his brother. There he meets and becomes smitten with hairdresser Mandira (Kajol). The film focuses on their lives together in a post-9/11 world and society’s attitudes toward them.

It’s always interesting to see how the usually happy, singing-and-dancing Bollywood handles a serious drama. My Name is Khan skips over the musical numbers and dives straight to the into the issue and tackles terrorism in a way that most American films have strayed away from: the perspective on the wrongfully accused.

Inspired by real-life events, the film looks at how religions perceive one another, how Muslims perceive each other and how outsiders act on false judgements, sometimes with serious consequences. Writer Shibani Bathija does not tread lightly around matters, yanking on heartstrings at times.

But what makes these Bathija’s scenes work are the performances from both Khan and Kajol. While Khan (the actor) convinces us of his character, acting against social norms and carrying on naive conversations, it’s Kajol who brings true conviction to her role, pouring grief into her scenes as she breaks down in tears and bursts in flames when she angrily lashes out against Khan during a fight.

Yet through the tough stuff, Bathija tosses in some hilarious one-liners, like when Khan, who works for a beauty products company, makes sales pitches verbatim off his training script or tells Mandira on their wedding night that he’s been reading Intercourse for Dumbos.

However, one of the most interesting aspects of the film is its portrayal of multiculturalism. The variety of races and religions evident in this film serve as a constant reminder that while this may be the perspective of one person, My Name is Khan is about a human issue, regardless of background. B-

A Nightmare on Elm Street (2010)

Courtesy: AllMoviePhoto.com

(One two, Freddy's coming for you....again.)

Starring Jackie Earle Haley, Kyle Gallner and Rooney Mara. Directed by Samuel Bayer. 95 Minutes. 18A

Some directors like to make shot-for-shot remakes of horror classics (Funny Games, Gus Van Sant's Psycho). Others like to borrow the stories of psychos and take them on a horrifically off-course journey into mediocre murder plots and overdone death scenes (the recent reboots Halloween, Friday the 13th, Prom Night). Samuel Bayer likes to do a little of both.

Bayer’s reinvention of the Nightmare On Elm Street franchise is essentially just a modernized (when the kids go to sleep, so does their MacBook!) version of the classic you’re-not-even-safe-while-you’re-dreaming story. So much so, it seems like he penned the flick in his happily undisturbed sleep.

The plot is pretty much plagiarized (A group of kids start getting offed by sadistic burn victim, Freddy Krueger, while catching 40 plus winks – and resort to drug use, java jolts and shameless flirting to stay awake) and the characters are carbon copies of their 80s counterparts, minus the sweater vests and ratted hair (Nancy, her single mom, her blonde friend, her sorta nerdy sorta boyfriend). Oh, and the killings? We’ve seen them all before (Main character almost gets it in the bath? Check. Blonde chick is gutted in mid-air? Check. Boyfriend gets slaughtered in jail? You betcha!).

The only real difference is between this Elm St. and the old one is the actors (no Johnny Depps here), the time period and a minor, yet totally creepy, change in Freddy’s back-story (Bayer's Krueger didn’t murder kids, he just, you know, sexually abused them and made them paint with blood). The problem is, Bayer forgets to include the best parts of the original series, forgoing quality writing and innovative storytelling for special effects, buckets of corn syrup and creepy backdrops (see: the poorly lit diner, the grungy basement crawl space, the winding empty hallway). He probably thought he was meeting horror fanatics and budding gore whores halfway with his cut-and-dry style, but his lack of imagination just leaves you feeling half-baked.

The one thing he got right was casting Jackie Earle Haley. The dude is superbly creepy as the new Krueger, especially considering he's got monster-sized shoes to fill. He is basically his character in Little Children, with third-degree burn, a Value Village sweater and a fedora. Believe it or not, the only thing he's missing is a sense of humour.

What made Robert Englund's Freddy so legendary – and separated him from the silent killers (Jason, Michael Myers) of classic slasher cinema - was the fact that he knew how to pick out a prime pun, turning what could have been a straight-up creepfest into a campy horror girl's wet dream. Sure, the diss-and-dissect game wore thin after the fifth sequel, but it was the reason you watched Freddy Vs. Jason. Earle Haley’s one-liners, on the other razor-sharp hand however, are deadly serious. And not in a good way.

Lack of spunk aside, A Nightmare on Elm Street is a good popcorn flick, for the most part. There’s one great shot of Freddy leading group story time at a bookstore. In the original, it would have resulted in a surreal montage, set to that ever-creepy theme music. But on today’s Elm Street, the fucked up fantasy only appears for a few seconds, barely giving you time to get in on the joke – or get creeped out. B-