"Ninja Assassin"

"Ninja Assassin" starts off not with a bang, but with a slash. A whole lot of slashes, in fact, as an unseen attacker turns a crew of smirking young Yakuza thugs into the Japanese equivalent of Vienna Sausages. Ah, if only they had heeded the wise words of the elderly tattoo artist who tried to warn them: "You cannot bargain with it, you cannot reason with it because it is not a human being! It is a demon sent straight from Hell!"

That ancient inkslinger was absolutely right: Reason certainly has no place in "Ninja Assassin," which makes a half-hearted attempt to set up a plot before abandoning storytelling altogether.
Here the full review here.

"It Might Get Loud"

One came of age in post-World War II London; another grew up amid the bombings in 1970s Belfast; the third emerged from the southeast side of Detroit in the 1990s. But although Jimmy Page, The Edge and Jack White are from different backgrounds, they share a life-long obsession with making music.

In January 2008, director Davis Guggenheim ("An Inconvenient Truth") brought the three men together for a "summit." While "It Might Get Loud" gives us a tantalizing glimpse of the trio's time together, it more importantly uncovers each man's roots and influences, charting his journey from would-be rocker to icon.

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"Precious: Based on the Novel 'Push' by Sapphire"

Like many teenage girls, Claireece "Precious" Jones dreams of being a model and dancing in hip-hop videos. But she has other fantasies, too. "I wanna be normal, and pay attention and sit in the front of the class," she confides. That seems equally far-fetched, considering Precious is practically illiterate, woefully overweight and growing up in 1987 Harlem, where getting an education is seen as a luxury few can afford. When Precious gazes in the mirror, she sees herself not as obese and African-American, but as a beautiful, slender blonde who might be headed for the beach in Malibu; when Precious looks at the squalid apartment she shares with her caustic, cynical mother, Mary, she realizes she's very far away from La La Land. Crackhead neighbors may push the buzzer, but opportunity never seems to knock.

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"The Blind Side"

Football players can't do much if they sit on the sidelines. Neither can Christians, according to "The Blind Side," an agreeable, if overlong inspired-by-a-true-story drama adapted from Michael Lewis' best seller "The Blind Side: Evolution of a Game." Plenty of would-be gridiron stars never live up to their hype, and the same is true of many self-professed people of faith who never actually get around to practicing what they preach.
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"New Moon"

In the world of "New Moon," vampires can project themselves into your thoughts and a clan of teenage guys (with an aversion to wearing shirts, even in winter rain) can transform themselves into huge, snarling wolves. But Bella Swan (Kristen Stewart) has a weapon that trumps them all; she's got Glower Power, the gift of seeming utterly sullen and tuned-out, no matter what circumstances surround her.

Her reaction at getting birthday presents? Glower. What crosses her face when she's baffled by the Shirtless Six-Pack Sect? Steely-eyed glower. And her response when her sort-of boyfriend Edward (Robert Pattinson) unexpectedly moves out of town? Nuclear-power glower.

In fact, Bella takes the news so badly she stays home and glowers for the next three months -- we know this because titles reading "October," "November" and "December" cross the screen as she sits curled up in a chair doing you-know-what -- while Edward goes off on some sort of vampiric vision quest. Although far away, he does make a few token appearances in the form of a slightly blurry, scolding hallucination, and having to put up with a man who can't even bother to nag her in person makes Bella so angry, she could just...

"New Moon" is the second film adapted from Stephenie Meyer's enormously popular series of supernatural romances and it turns out to be one of those installments that devotes much of its time to setting up characters and plot complications that will hopefully come to dramatic fruition in the final two movies.

Alas, "Moon" is light on excitement and burdened with too many drawn-out scenes devoted to teen turmoil. Not only are they repetitious, they also make you fear for Bella's mental health after a while. Did her dad (Billy Burke) really just sit back and let her wallow in misery week after week, even when she began having nightmares so intense they caused her to scream in her sleep? Can we really believe the tiny town of Forks, Washington can be home to vampires and werewolves but there's not a single therapist to be found?

Director Catherine Hardwicke's "Twilight," the predecessor to "Moon," had a certain endearing air of lunacy, as Bella met Edward and got her first taste of the lifestyle of the undead. "Moon" (Chris Weitz took over the directorial reins this time around) too often tries to position itself as Serious Cinema, beginning with a heavy-handed "Romeo and Juliet" analogy early on and continuing to maintain a resolutely straight face as Bella is drawn to 16-year-old Jacob (Taylor Lautner), who is on the verge of discovering what he thought were just growing pains are actually the signals that he's carrying a gene that links him to an ancient tribe of shape-shifters.

Since Edward thoughtlessly left town at a time when the vengeful vampire Victoria (Rachelle LeFevre) is still hunting for Bella, having a werewolf as a bodyguard might not be such a bad idea. Unfortunately, Jacob's clan and Edward's circle get along almost as well as the Hatfields and the McCoys, and before the sun goes down on this "Moon"-scape Bella finds she's been appointed an unwilling referee in the feud.

Unless you completely identify with Bella's almost unremittingly angsty attitude, "Moon" is far more of a chore to sit through than "Twilight" was. Screenwriter Melissa Rosenberg mercifully drops in an occasional joke or humorous tidbit -- such as when Bella, Jacob and clueless classmate Mike (the very funny Michael Welch) wind up seeing a gruesome action flick titled "Face Punch" -- to break up the general gloominess, and Anna Kendrick, who's about to take the world by storm as George Clooney's protege in "Up in the Air," is a snappy delight here as Bella's fairweather friend. The movie could have used a lot more of her.

There's also a quick jaunt to Italy for a visit with the Volturi, a band of high-living blood-suckers that Edward likens to vampire royalty. The leader, Aro, is played by Michael Sheen and Dakota Fanning makes a cameo as Aro's acolyte Jane, who can paralyze her enemies with pain simply by staring at them; they perform as if they were pleasantly surprised to receive invitations to a really cool costume party. Disappointingly, the members of Edward's extended family, who provided some interesting suplots in "Twilight," are given short shrift here.

Even Pattinson is off-screen for about two-thirds of the all-too-generous 130-minute running time, so it's Lautner who has to provide the eerie eye candy this time out. Although his posters will undoubtedly adorn many a bedroom wall in months to come, Lautner doesn't make the same kind of connection with Stewart that Pattinson did in the first film. He's been wedged into the same sort of role Bill Pullman used to play regularly back in the early 1990s: the compassionate, kind fellow who is obviously not going to have a long-term liaison with the leading lady. Check Weitz's closet: You can be sure there's a Team Edward T-shirt in there somewhere.

Stewart, meanwhile, is straitjacketed by Bella's sheer dreariness. Aside from delivering a couple of out-of-nowhere wisecracks, Bella is worrisomely one-note. When she finally decides to indulge her wild side by riding around with a sleazy biker or diving off cliffs, her expression and mood change so little it's almost laughable. "Moon" delights in depression, at the expense of its storytelling and its heroine's appeal. Remember, even Angela Chase eventually managed to deal with being rejected by Jordan Catalano back in the day; Bella, sweetheart, get help -- we're concerned.

"Pirate Radio"

"Pirate Radio" revisits the days when offshore, off-the-wall broadcasters catered to England's insatiable appetite for rock and pop while the BBC offered the soothing sounds of Mantovani and Vera Lynn. There's a fascinating culture-clash story to be told about the shifting tastes and colorful characters of this period. Sadly, it has eluded writer-director Richard Curtis. Released overseas earlier this year as "The Boat That Rocked," "Radio" is a busy jumble of fragmented, generally flat scenes and situations that stubbornly refuse to fuse together. A John Lennon lyric sums it all up perfectly: "Always something happening, and nothing going on." Read the full review here.

"2012"

2012 is the year the world as we know it comes to a calamitous end, according to Mayan prophecies. And 2012 is approximately the number of times you may giggle while watching director Roland Emmerich's "2012," which tells us our planet meets its doom not only in fire and water but in an orgasmic explosion of CGI effects, underscored by thundering percussion; exactly how many timpani drums were sacrificed in the service of this soundtrack?

Brace yourself for volcanic eruptions at Yellowstone National Park, tidal waves in Washington, D.C. and the crushing of thousands of unlucky Catholics beneath the dome of St. Peter's Basilica (which magically turns into some sort of enormous rolling pin). Obviously, Emmerich ("The Day After Tomorrow," "Independence Day," "Godzilla") has been worshipping at the Temple of Irwin Allen, the filmmaker dubbed "the Master of Disaster" in honor of his 1970s blockbusters such as "The Poseidon Adventure" and "The Towering Inferno." In between destroying familiar landmarks and taking particular pleasure in demolishing downtown Los Angeles, Emmerich squeezes in an imperiled cruise ship so he can restage some of "Poseidon," as well as showcase George Segal and Blu Mankuma in what looks and sounds like the worst lounge act ever to hit the high seas.

What's put the planet into an End of Days daze, you ask? Mutated neutrinos, of course. Severe solar eruptions have sent those pesky neutrinos raining down on Earth, where they are acting like microwaves on the planet's core, leading Earth to essentially try to shed its skin as land masses quake and break at regular intervals. The governments of the world have joined forces to maintain a code of silence about the oncoming Apocalypse, while secretly building "arks" (yes, you read that correctly) in the mountains of China that will save a few hundred thousand prime human specimens -- provided they can afford the one-billion-Euros per seat passage. There are also elephants, giraffes and other wildlife being loaded onto the arks, although it's unclear how they are expected to pay their way.

As unsuccessful science-fiction writer John Cusack collects his kids, his ex-wife (Amanda Peet) and his ex-wife's new boyfriend (Tom McCarthy) for a hasty trip to the Orient, the U.S. President (Danny Glover) does a whole lot of hand-wringing, goes on TV to say The Lord’s Prayer and then, in one of the film’s many dare-ya-not-to-laugh moments, rolls out an "I’m a-comin', Elizabeth!" speech worthy of Redd Foxx.

In case you want to mark your calendar, the world ends on December 21, 2012, which will at least spare us all the chore of holiday shopping: Thanks, Mayans! Apparently, however, the ancient sages didn’t foresee the closing of the Times Square Virgin Megastore: It’s still visibly open for business in 2012 New York, even though it actually shut its doors last spring.

While Emmerich has far more sophisticated special effects in his toolbox than Allen could ever have dreamed of, the writing in "2012" is barely a step up from coloring-book captions. The screenplay generally substitutes declarations for dialogue ("This was the last day of the United States of America," "You’re telling me the North Pole is now in Wisconsin?!") and the sentimental scenarios Emmerich and co-writer Harald Kloser have concocted make even classy actors like Cusack, Glover and Thandie Newton (in the unfortunate role of the Prez's firebrand of a daughter) look ridiculous.

The only cast members who survive with untarnished reputations are McCarthy, who gives a little edge to his nice-guy plastic surgeon character -- when Peet rejects his advances, he smugly notes that "women pay me thousands of dollars to handle their boobs; you get it for free!" -- and Woody Harrelson, who goes far beyond the call of duty as a nutcase of a talk-radio personality who sees it all coming. Sporting a bargain-basement Halloween wig and throbbing eyes he might have borrowed from Charles Manson, Harrelson not only goes over the top, he heads to infinity and beyond.

But engaging performances and believable drama are low on Emmerich's list of priorities. He’s primarily concerned with dishing up devastation, and "2012" does deliver on that score. Wiping out the world is second nature to Emmerich by now, and his visions of global demolition easily eclipse anything he did in "Tomorrow" or "Independence."

They are also as absurd as they are spectacular; let's just say the end of humanity will probably make a kick-ass videogame this holiday season. If the Physics Police handed out tickets for every natural law "2012" violates, Emmerich and Kloser would have enough to wallpaper Mt. Everest. But perhaps they'll save that stunt for the sequel.

"The Box"

You may recall cash-strapped Demi Moore had to sleep with Robert Redford to get a million dollars in "Indecent Proposal." But that was in 1993. Back in 1976, things were apparently much easier: All schoolteacher Cameron Diaz has to do in "The Box" is press a button.

That's the attention-grabbing hook of writer-director Richard Kelly's chiller, very loosely based on Richard Matheson's short story "Button, Button." Norma Lewis (Diaz) and her husband, Arthur (James Marsden), an aspiring astronaut, are a Virginia couple with major money worries. So the siren song of temptation is mighty hard to resist when Arlington James Steward (Frank Langella) drops a gift on their doorstep. It's an innocent-looking wooden box with a red button attached to it. Steward's instructions: Press the button within 24 hours and you'll get a million dollars -- but you'll also be responsible for the death of a stranger somewhere in the world. It might be someone's baby, Arthur reasons. Or it could be someone who's already on Death Row, Norma counters.

The offer is peculiar and the messenger is downright creepy: Steward lost a large chunk of the left side of his face recently. Still, Norma (who has a deformed foot of her own) gives the matter serious consideration.

In its first 40 minutes, "The Box" lays the groundwork for a provocative shocker, and Kelly (who made the cult favorite "Donnie Darko" and the largely reviled "Southland Tales") has a great deal of fun recalling the cheesy charm of the Ford Administration, when "What's Happening" and "Alice" were on TV, Bicentennial flags were everywhere and unlucky kids carried lunchboxes promoting "The Exciting World of Metrics." Diaz and Marsden bravely wear the clingy polyester fashions of the day, and the ghastly, pseudo-psychedelic wallpaper in the Lewis' kitchen all but begs for co-star status.

Unfortunately, Kelly eventually loses his balance and the movie abruptly stops building suspense, opting instead for weird goings-on and half-hearted paranoid fantasies that might have been at least partially inspired by "Invasion of the Body Snatchers." If the scenario sounds familiar, it might be because you saw the 1980s "Twilight Zone" episode that was also based on the Matheson tale. It had the major advantage of being one-fourth as long as Kelly's version.

The last hour of "The Box" sends Norma and Arthur on a one-way trip into Wackyland, where they face legions of silent stalkers, outdoor motel swimming pools that are still open in mid-December and neighbors who seem uncommonly prone to nosebleeds. (There are as many bloody noses in "The Box" as there are discussions about marriages in a Jane Austen novel.)

After a certain point, it all seems like strangeness for the sake of strangeness. Characters come and go, with no explanation. Ideas are brought up and almost immediately dismissed. Logic and coherence evaporate while Kelly dithers over whether he's making a psychological shocker or an off-the-wall dark comedy: When Steward tells an anguished mother and father their blind and deaf child will "never hear your voices or see your faces again," you may half-expect him to add, "but on the positive side, he's halfway to becoming a Pinball Wizard."

The slapdash feel of the last half of the film indicates that Kelly might have vainly hoped he could piece together a picture in the editing room. Warner Bros. couldn't guess what he was up to, either, which explains why the movie is being unceremoniously dumped into theaters nearly two years after it finished shooting.

With such overcooked lines as "whatever happens to you from this point on will have greater consequences than you can possibly fathom," "The Box" seems to be inviting laughter, but Kelly obviously didn't let Diaz and Marsden in on the joke: They steadfastly march through scene after scene with straight, troubled faces. Meanwhile audiences, exhausted from trying to decide between gasping and giggling, can only greet each new plot twist with rolling eyes. When "The Box" comes to DVD, it won't be a surprise if many viewers press the button marked "eject" long before the film's unsatisifying conclusion.