If you’re one of the maybe four people on the planet who have not yet read the three novels by the late Stieg Larsson, a nutshell: A disgraced investigative journalist (Daniel Craig, displaying Bondian confidence) is hired by a wealthy industrialist (a spot-on Christopher Plummer), to write a family history about his unpleasant clan of odd ducks, smarmy weirdoes and a Nazi or two. But his real task is to find out what happened to the man’s niece, who disappeared 40 years ago at age 16. He takes on an assistant in the form of the emotionally stunted, cyber-brilliant title goth chick (Rooney Mara, nicely combining a feral aesthetic with a heartrending fragility). It’s not better or worse than the 2009 Swedish-language film, but where that was a well made, fairly straightforward adaptation, David Fincher’s (Seven, Fight Club, Zodiac, The Social Network) direction is more assured, and he and screenwriter Steven Zillian have trimmed, added to and extrapolated from the convoluted source material to create a taut and kinetic script that’s cinema-digestible while remaining evocative and compelling. Note: the book’s still better than either, and reading it first may make it easier to keep up.

© 2010 T&D Productions Limited All Rights Reserved

I never⎯ever⎯thought I’d enjoy a splatter flick, but this upside-down ode to the genre’s many clichés takes the pink potato. Tucker and Dale (Alan Tudyk and Tyler Labine) are two affable hillbillies mistaken by a paranoid pack of prep-school partiers for chainsaw-wielding, woodchipper-operating, virgin-kidnapping Leatherfaces. Understand that, while a send-up, this is a spatter flick. The mayhem just comes from a humorously fresh source. It’s not great; at one point it comes dangerously close to the very thing it’s satirizing, and the one joke fades in the final act. But I smiled some.

Ilze Kitshoff © 2011 MGP Productions, LLC. All Rights Reserved.

Based on an autobiographical account by Sam Childers, an ex-con Hell’s Angel who found God and went off to save orphans in Sudan, this one has action, drama and a socially conscious message. Unfortunately, none of this is done particularly well. Furthermore, Childers has been accused of being little more than a mercenary and of making himself more heroic than facts would indicate. The film is further weakened by the enraged scenery-chewing that the increasingly tiresome Gerard Butler considers acting. Finally, it’s a bit, well, preachy. I applaud the sentiment, but don’t expect Hotel Rwanda.

© 2010 Beginners Movie, LLC. All Rights Reserved

A few months after his mother passes away, Oliver (an excellent Ewan McGregor), an artist and idly melancholy commitment-phobe, is informed by his 75-year-old father (an even better Christopher Plummer), with some pride and considerable relief, that he is gay. Oliver has no problem with the revelation per se, but what affects him most is the exuberance with which his dad embraces his new lifestyle with his new, much younger boyfriend—not because he begrudges the man his happiness, but because it underlines his own longstanding inability to accept love, notably that being offered by his current actress squeeze (played nicely by Melanie Laurent). The story moves fluidly among three time frames: Oliver’s childhood flashbacks, the period between his dad’s outing himself and his death, and then a time after he is gone. At the bottom line, this honest and sincere (and, by the way, semi-autobiographical) tale about both romantic and filial love from Mike Mills (Thumbsucker) is about hope and a kind of never-too-late optimism. All this soul-searching is frequently leavened by some wonderful wry humor. Like the Jack Russell terrier with his subtitled observations on the human condition.

© 2011 Porchlight Films Pty Limited, Screen Australia, Screen NSW, Tasmania Development and Resources and Nude Run Pty Limited

Willem Dafoe is an “industrial mercenary” hired by a shady biotech company to kill the last Tasmanian tiger for a potentially profitable hormone. He is billeted at the home of a missing (why?) zoologist, where the wife (Frances O’Connor) is catatonic and the two spirited kids fend for themselves. “Uncle” Jack, played by Sam Neill (friend or foe?), helps out. The lone hunter bonds with this lonely family, but his disguise as a researcher dangerously angers the local loggers. Way better than I’m making it sound. Character-driven, gorgeous cinematography, and I like the way the music ups the tension.

© 2011 CBS FILMS INC

In this tiresomely mediocre attempt to shoehorn Beauty and the Beast into the age of text messaging and high-school popularity politics, a good-looking and popular, but egomaniacal, prep school kid (the astoundingly limited Alex Pettyfer of I Am Number Four) is transformed by a miffed witch classmate into a hideous monster (but still one sexy and stylish enough for the target Twilight tweens). He must obtain a confession of true love from a girl (the annoying Vanessa Hudgens of High School Musical) within a year or he’ll stay that way. Snore. Choppy, perfunctory, brain dead and lives up to its name.

© 2011 UNIVERSAL STUDIOS All Rights Reserved

When the meticulous manager (Ben Stiller) of a prestigious NYC apartment building learns that the penthouse occupant (Alan Alda) has stolen through a ponzi scheme the pension funds of all the building’s employees, he thinks they should break into the unit to retrieve the loot. Or something. Since none of them are burglars, they enlist the help of a questionable “crime expert” (Eddie Murphy, back in form). This commercial product kind of works as a screwball caper comedy, but the plot is just too preposterous—and the heist plan too dumb—to really get behind. Great cast.

© 2011 WARNER BROS. ENTERTAINMENT INC.

The face of American law enforcement for almost 50 years, J. Edgar Hoover was revered, reviled, feared and admired, but rarely understood. Now Clint Eastwood, working from a script by Milk screenwriter Dustin Lance Black, takes a stab at that last one. The film has received its share of pans along with the raves, mostly for its staid approach. The criticism is understandable, given the man’s complex, contradictory nature. True, it’s pretty straightforward, and even lags in spots, but it eschews sentimentality and condescension. It addresses directly but does not sensationalize Hoover’s very likely but probably suppressed homosexuality (though he refused to hire gays), his relationship with his mother (Judi Dench), a religious homophobe, and his keeping of secret files on Americans “for their own good.” Contradictory, see? Hoover’s relationship with official aide and lifelong companion Clyde Tolson (Armie Hammer) is handled with taste and skill. Can you imagine a more difficult, uncharismatic character for an actor to disappear into? But Leonardo DiCaprio does. He does. So now I understand. I think. But, still, I left the theater feeling emotionally distant from the subject; not my usual experience with Eastwood movies.

© 2010 Miramax Film Corp. All Rights Reserved

Tired of haunted-house movies that rely on gore and mere “Boo!” moments? Then try on this scarier-than-most effort from writer/producer Guillermo del Toro (Pan’s Labyrinth). A lonely 10-year-old girl (an astounding Bailee Madison) trying to deal with her new life in an impossibly gothic manor with her workaholic dad (Guy Pearce) and potential stepmother (Katie Holmes) releases these rat-size, not-so-cute Tooth-Fairy beasties, which then begin to stalk and torment her. Unless the lights are on. Quibble: the CG monsters, though gradually revealed, were scarier when you could only imagine them.

© 2010 Tesuco Holdings Limited. All Rights Reserved.

A bland young British doctor working in an American hospital (a bland, perfectly cast Orlando Bloom) uses his knowledge of internal medicine to keep a pretty, easily treatable young girl under his care. When she dies, he finds it necessary to commit an escalating series of crimes and murders to elude detection. His milquetoast manner helps in this subterfuge, but it is not at all entertaining. Bloom’s abominable character is more pathetic than sympathetic, difficult to relate to or even want to understand. Kind of like the actor. This pointless, half-baked psychodrama is a big yawn.

© 2010 INDELIBLE PRODUCTIONS UK LTD - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Perhaps even George Romero never thought of staging a zombie movie in the harsh, withering arena of West Africa, but British filmmaking brothers Howard J. and Jonathan Ford did, and it works. Indeed, the Dark Continent’s ravaged geopolitical reputation adds an exceedingly disturbing authenticity, if that’s the word. A white military engineer (Rob Freeman) seeking rescue and a native soldier (Prince David Oseia) seeking his son combine forces in a kind of road movie and fight their way through relentless armies of traditional, slowly shuffling, eerily white-eyed black undead. Gorgeous cinematography.

Note to any remaining Adam Sandler fans that still doubt the man’s deep contempt for his audience: go see this slapdash, noxious collection of bodily-fluid references, racist Latino jokes, farts, poorly conceived sight gags and blatant product placement (notably a cruise line). You’ll get what you deserve, but you’ll be cured. Sandler plays a regular Joe who dreads the Thanksgiving visit of his socially abhorrent twin sister, also played, ineptly and lazily, by Sandler in lipstick. Laughing yet? And note to Al Pacino: you provided the film’s only watchable moments. But get a new agent.

© 2011 Universal Studios. All Rights Reserved

About what you’d expect from a tardy and needless sequel (Johnny English Resuscitated?) to the not-that-funny 2003 James Bond sendup, a concept that was done better anyway in the Austin Powers movies. But determined fans of the still lovable Rowan Atkinson doing things like dangerously misusing the latest spy weaponry, badly misjudging dire situations, taking multiple shots to the groin and beating elderly ladies senseless will be amused, though these are mostly children (for whom the film is a tad too violent). Sporadically funny and not entirely terrible, but it never really takes off.

© 2009 Screen Australia, Screen NSW, Film Victoria, The Premium Movie Partnership, Animal Kingdom Holdings Pty Limited and Porchlight Films Pty Limited.

Apparently the only thing Joshua’s heroin-addict mother ever did right was to shield him from her brothers, a vicious family of feral thugs dys-functioning in the Darwinian lower levels of the Melbourne underworld. The clan is presided over by the teen’s grandmother, a sweet-faced woman nicknamed “Mama Smurf” who’s ready and willing to eat her young for the sake of self-preservation. But his mom’s fatal overdose lands the hulking teenager right in the middle of this gang’s world of suspicion, greed and betrayal. Guy just wanted a home. Writer-director David Michod’s stylish and well-plotted debut feature isn’t perfect. The most glaring flaw is James Frecheville as the central character. I realize the part calls for a callow fellow, but this guy does a great imitation of a pine tree. Fortunately, this black hole is offset by some top Down-Under talent, including Guy Pearce (a virtuous cop), Ben Mendelsohn (the family’s main maniac) and Jacki Weaver. The latter’s performance, as grandma, is the one that will stay with you. Call it a grubby, brutally unsentimental Australian Goodfellas without the humor. Ominous is a good word. Lurking fear. Creepy. And absolutely absorbing.

© 2011 ROAD TO NOWHERE LLC

Monte Hellman, who achieved “legendary” status with 1971’s Two Lane Blacktop, comes out of retirement to make this enigmatic and haunting hall of mirrors. Summarizing the plot is futile, but it’s basically about a crew making a movie based on a true scandal involving a murder, a cover-up, a double-cross and a femme fatale (a stunning Shannyn Sossamon). The fuzzy reality keeps shifting, with “now” actors playing “then” characters in flashbacks, and parallels emerge. As do, inevitably, Rashomon comparisons. It’s frustratingly opaque, but individual scenes stand alone. Paced like a tai chi workout. Japanese title: Hatenaki Michi.

©2011 DreamWorks II Distribution Co., LLC. All Rights Reserved

A high-school kid (Anton Yelchin) suspects, correctly, that his new next-door neighbor (Colin Farrell) in a dreary Las Vegas subdivision is a vampire, but, well, you know how hard it is to get anyone to listen. His mom (Toni Collette) thinks he’s hot. Farrell, conveying great “I know that you know” menace without seeming to actually do anything, is clearly having fun as the main monster in this effective if not exactly necessary remake of Tom Holland’s 1985 movie. Call this classic vampire approach an antidote to Twilight (which it actually makes fun of), in particularly shoddy, pointless 3D.

© 2009 by Zoetropa Argentina, BIM Distribuzione, Tornasol Films, Agrupacion de Cine 001, Castafiore Films;

Francis Ford Coppola shows he’s still got it with this beautifully crafted, highly personal film. As involving as it is inventive and in stunning black & white, this is the unabashedly operatic story of a 17-year-old boy (Alden Ehrenreich) who arrives in Buenos Aires in search of his much older brother (an edgy Vincent Gallo, perfect for the role), a temperamental, emotionally-blocked writer. The only thing they share is a hatred for their domineering father, a world-renowned conductor (Klaus Maria Brandauer). Their reasons for doing so, when finally revealed, make for a thrilling, cathartic third act.

© Sigma Films Limited/Zentropa Entertainments5 ApS/Subotica Ltd/BBC 2010

Your enjoyment of this human-scale sci-fi flick will depend on whether or not you buy in to the central conceit. A mysterious plague is descending upon the earth, causing everyone to lose their ability to perceive the world around them. One by one, slowly and agonizingly, the senses disappear, each preceded by a brief period of intense emotion. First to go is the sense of smell, but only after each person goes through a time of unutterable grief and loss (the sense of smell is closely related to memory). Then taste goes, but not before a phase of overwhelming hunger for a last bite. The latter is particularly disastrous to Ewan McGregor, a chef in an upscale restaurant who is just getting to know his neighbor (Eva Green), an epidemiologist. Their relationship grounds the movie. There is no explanation offered, and no cure forthcoming. This is not Outbreak, or even Contagion. Rather it’s a look at how humanity would react, on an individual level, to such a pandemic. Would we adapt and evolve or revert to primitivism? It’s quite frightening, and, somewhat paradoxically, very sensual. One that will stay with you.

© 2010 Universal Studios. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Two geeky Brit fanboys (screenwriters Simon Pegg & Nick Frost) in the U.S. on a dream tour of sci-fi dork destinations encounter and shelter in their RV the potty-mouthed, party-animal title alien (voiced by Seth Rogen), an apparent escapee from Area 51 who just wants to phone home. Kristen Wiig appears as a religious romantic interest for Pegg whose creationist views are seriously challenged by all this. Sci-fi pop references abound, making this more of a fond homage than a straight spoof, and a winking, constant chuckle rather than a laugh-out-loud parody. Sweet, good-hearted fun.

An orphaned, unhealthily death-obsessed teen (Dennis’s kid Henry Hopper) meets and falls in love with a terminally ill young woman with a lust for life (Mia Wasikowska) in this Gus Van Sant misfire, and do precious things for a while. She shares her love of birds; he tells her his best friend is the ghost of a young kamikaze pilot, with whom he plays Battleship a lot. It’s not terrible, and the acting’s good, but it comes down on the wrong side of the line between sensitive and maudlin. Be prepared for something a bit twee, self-conscious and morbidly cute. Go rent Harold and Maude instead.