* * * ½ (out of 6)

“Nenette,” a documentary about an orangutan at a French zoo, is literally as entertaining as watching an animal at the zoo, because that’s all it is. If you could enjoy yourself for 70 minutes watching an animal exhibit while listening to a variety of observers’ commentary, you will like this movie. I’m the kind of person who races around museums and zoos, so I don’t think I have the aptitude to fully absorb this movie. That said, I found some of its merits despite my personal scruples.

The key to the film is the idea of anthropomorphizing. Unless you’re an expert on primate facial expressions, you can’t really tell what they’re feeling. Of course, that doesn’t stop the parade of non-expert observers from speculating on Nenette’s emotions. Many feel sorry for Nenette, who has spent her entire life in captivity, gone through three mates and five children, and living years longer than most her kind do in the wild. Others admire Nenette and use her for inspiration, like a sketch artist. Overall, this is as much of a film about the people who watch her as about her.

To be honest, I’d have rather actually gone to the zoo than watch the documentary, or at least watch “Grizzly Man,” a more entertaining film also about man’s relationship with animals. But I think that says more about me than about the film, which does exactly what it wants to do. Besides adding that the film has some nice music by Pascal Gallois and Philippe Hersant, I really don’t have much more to say, because the film didn’t have that much to offer me.

* * * * * (out of 6)

Warning: it’s impossible to talk about this movie without spoiling the main gambit.

Mark Romanek’s “Never Let Me Go” is one of those high concept films about Life and what it means to be human. In fact, what the film isn’t is just as interesting as what it is. If it focused more on its concept, it would be a science fiction film, but it never feels that way. It rarely proclaims its own importance; superficially it is the story of a love triangle, focusing on the nuances of its characters rather than the profound ideas lurking underneath. While it isn’t quite the masterpiece it wants to be, it has many moments of simple sublime beauty.

Plotwise, “Never Let Me Go” is akin to “classic” science-fiction films like “Parts: The Clonus Horror” and Michael Bay’s unofficial remake/ripoff “The Island.” But it is very different in terms of tone, and this is probably as much due to the book by Kazuo Ishiguro as to the film (disclaimer: I haven’t read the book). It is the story of Kathy (Carey Mulligan), Tommy (Andrew Garfield) and Ruth (Kiera Knightley), who grew up together at the mysterious Hailsham school. The film pinpoints three different times in their lives as they progress towards their preordained lives and their destiny, but they spend much more time grappling with issues we all face in youth, like loneliness, jealousy, and lust.

As a simple aesthetic experience, “Never Let Me Go” is wonderful in that sad and profound way. Not only is the photography by Adam Kimmel beautiful, but the pacing of the film gives us the time to appreciate it as well without blatantly showing off. Furthermore, Rachel Portman’s score is the first great score I have heard in 2011. Combined, it creates the feeling of a powerful memory sadly recalled, and the film’s ability to create this feeling justifies the adaptation.

The acting is all around very good to amazing, the most interesting performances coming from those from whom I expected the least. Mulligan and Garfield do very well, but I have seen them do more interesting work in “An Education” and “The Social Network,” respectively. But Knightley surpasses them both, partially because she has a harder role to play than either of them. Her character is ostensibly the least likable, but I couldn’t help but sympathize with her. The best moments come at the end, when despite her beauty and youth she completely pulls off playing a frail woman, weak in the flesh but strong in spirit. This is the best performance she has ever done, and I would be surprised if she could ever top it.

The supporting cast is also quite strong. Charlotte Rampling and Sally Hawkins give typically good as teachers at Hailsham. But similar to Knightley, the children versions of Kathy (Isobel Meikle-Small), Tommy (Charlie Rowe) and Ruth (Ella Purnell) impressed me as well. As much as I enjoyed the adults, I wouldn’t have minded a film solely about the children at all.

The one flaw I saw is the narration from Kathy’s point of view, presumably borrowed from the book. It didn’t say anything that the film didn’t already show. It particularly bothered me at the end, when it said the most obvious point ever: doesn’t this apply to all of us. It may work in the book, but in the film it strikes me as a bit pseudo-profound, which is sad in a film that is mostly genuinely profound. But overall this is a tender yet overwhelmingly sad experience better felt than talked about.

* * * * ½ (out of 6)

I always knew that I was a nerd, but I never realized how much of a geek I am until I realized how many of the in-jokes I got watching “Paul,” a love letter to sci-fi films of all shapes and sizes. I’m not sure when I came to this discovery, but it was somewhere between when Nick Frost says that he first dreamed of seeing an alien after watching “Mac and Me,” and when the main characters walk into a bar and the band is playing the song from the Mos Eisley Cantina. But this gives you an idea the flavour of “Paul,” the return of Frost and Simon Pegg (who also co-wrote the script) to the big screen. While the presence of Edgar Wright is dearly missed, on its own the film manages to be clever and entertaining.

Pegg and Frost are Graeme and Clive, two Brits who have travelled all the way to the American West, first to attend the San Diego Comic-Con and then to go on a road trip to all the alien hotspots like Area 51 and Roswell. But little do they know that they will actually run into a real alien named Paul (voiced by Seth Rogen), who is now on the run from the authorities and trying to go home. Graeme and Clive decide to help Paul and stir up a lot of trouble in the process, from a man in black (Jason Bateman) to a religious fundie (Kristen Wiig) they bring along for the ride.

Any film with Pegg and Frost at the helm will be inevitably compared to their two brilliant films with Edgar Wright, “Shaun of the Dead” and “Hot Fuzz,” so I’ll get that out of the way: “Paul” is not as good. The easy target would be director Greg Mottola, who has done better work as well (“Superbad” and “Adventureland”), but the script is much less focused than all the aforementioned films. I personally preferred the action scenes that had undertones of comedy to the straight-up comedic scenes, because that’s what Pegg particularly does best. Mottola is also no Edgar Wright (but then again, who is?), despite having a few scenes with visual flair. That said, not every film can be a masterpiece, and it’s unfair to overly malign a film for not being one.

The big misstep the film takes is with Wiig’s character, an obnoxious fundamentalist who is first seen wearing a shirt depicting Jesus shooting Charles Darwin’s brains out. People who hate religion will love how annoying she is at the very beginning, despite her obvious assignation as Pegg’s love interest, and how quickly she loosens up, particularly in the swearing department (incidentally, there were too many jokes based around just swearing for my taste). For me it was too overt, and a bit hypocritical given the quasi-mystical powers that Paul possesses. Wiig gives the character some charm, but Pegg and Frost write her as if they had never met a decent religious person in their lives, or as if they were Ricky Gervais.

But a lot of my problems with the films are just nits to pick. Though the comedic bits at the beginning made the film hard to get into, I eventually became wrapped up in the story (the pop cultural references help). This is mainly because all the characters, even Wiig by the end, are so likable. While Paul is an alien, in many respects he’s just a dude like Frost and Pegg who enjoy the finer things in life, like sex, beer, swearing and pot. He also displays both a good sense of humor and compassion, making him among the most human of any screen alien. Mottola also does his part, mainly by bringing many other likable actors to the table, like fellow “Arrested Development” alumni (Bateman and Jeffrey Tambor as a sci-fi author) and Bill Hader as one of a pair of local cops aiding Bateman in his chase. If you go in without the expectation of “Paul” being a great film, you will have a very good time.

* * * * * (out of 6)

For its 50th animated feature, Disney has made a film that effectively combines the values of tradition with the modern intelligence brought by Pixar via executive producer John Lasseter. The great challenge of “Tangled” is that it toes the line between the usual Disney sincerity and a self-aware sense of humor that recalls not only the best of Pixar (or the worst of Dreamworks), but also the zany Disney classic from 2001, “The Emperor’s New Groove.” While I don’t think that “Tangled” will become a bona fide classic, it is a very good time at the theatre.

With the story of Rapunzel as the foundation, “Tangled” extends the mythology with a modern sensibility. The hair of Rapunzel (voiced by Mandy Moore) now has magical powers, and her malicious guardian Mother Gothel (Donna Murphy) has none, making her dependent on the hair for everlasting youth. The prince has now become a Han Solo-esque thief, Flynn Rider (Zachary Levi), who wants nothing more than to live alone with riches galore.

But the biggest change from the original story is its change into a road movie, centred around an established tradition where Rapunzel’s parents commemorate the birthday of their lost daughter with lanterns launched in the sky. Even Rapunzel sees these lanterns from her tower, which coincidentally takes place on her birthday, and she yearns to see them just once from close-up, despite her guardian’s warning that the world is too dangerous for her. When Flynn stumbles in she takes the opportunity to have him guide her to the lanterns. This device serves well both to forward the plot and to provide a marvellous visual background for a romantic song between Flynn and Rapunzel.

But most Disney fans don’t really care about the plot. Their first question is, how is the music and the spectacle? Personally, I prefer a musical that has decent songs and a great story over one with great songs and a lame story, so I might not be the right one to answer that question. “Tangled” has all the formula songs you expect: the girl with a dream, the villain’s explanation of villainy, the rogue hero’s show of prowess, a jaunty rollicker, a romantic song, etc. Having seen the movie about twelve hours ago, I can’t remember any of the tunes, but they definitely worked in the context of the movie, and added to its maximum effect. I particularly enjoyed the rollicker in the middle in which Rapunzel stops a bunch of criminals trying to capture Flynn by getting them to talk about their real dreams. It was funny and heartwarming at the same time, exactly what these kinds of songs should be.

As for the spectacle, I saw this in 3D, and I can happily say that it also added to the experience. Recently famed editor Walter Murch told Roger Ebert that because the concept of 3D goes against millennia of the evolution of our eyes, we could never adjust to the medium. Ebert of course said that Murch definitively closed the case on 3D, but I am not so convinced. The addition of 3D significantly and noticeably enhanced the general visual splendour, to a lesser degree than “How To Train Your Dragon,” perhaps the best use of 3D that I’ve ever seen, but more so than “Toy Story 3,” which added absolutely nothing to a brilliant film. The 3D made the scenery much more vivid; but more importantly, it also increased the effectiveness of certain shots, which in my opinion is what 3D should really do. This happens most notably when the camera moves, either in a swooping overhead shot or in my favorite type of shot ever, the dolly-zoom that occurs at a crucial moment near the end. That said, I don’t think you’d go wrong seeing “Tangled” in 2D either out of personal preference or financial concern.

“Tangled” works as well in 2D as in 3D because at the end of the day, the story and characterizations are very well done. For all those who have complained the Disney movies don’t have enough truly strong female characters (and who have ignored EVE from “Wall-E,” the most badass female robot ever), “Tangled” offers not one but two, yes, two strong female characters. Rapunzel has to force Flynn to take her with him, saves Flynn on a number of occasions, and makes a critical decision all on her own which determines the ending. On the whole, she is still a Disney princess who only finds true happiness with her Prince Charming (retroactive spoiler alert), much to the chagrin of feminist bloggers. Mother Gothel, on the other hand, is a surprisingly nuanced villain. Though her motives for kidnapping and keeping Rapunzel locked away are ostensibly selfish, there were moments where I certainly believed that she too had grown somewhat attached to her quarry. When she sings her big song about how dangerous the world really is and how selfish people are, part of me believes that she thinks so too, considering that she’s one of those selfish people. Their relationship is the key of the film, and I bought it.

But while Rapunzel and her stepmother provide the soul of “Tangled,” Flynn and the animal sidekicks bring the fun. I don’t have too much to say about Flynn, except to say that at first I thought he would be annoying but he turned out not to be. I am proud to call him my namesake (sort of). It’s to the film’s credit though, that I accepted the anthropomorphizing of two animal characters: Rapunzel’s pet chameleon named Pascal, and a horse named Maximus who spends a great deal of the film trying to undermine Flynn. To say that both, but Maximus in particular, stretch the suspension of disbelief is a great understatement. There’s one moment where Flynn and Maximus fight on a cliff, Maximus with a dagger between his two front hooves and Flynn with a frying pan, and Flynn exclaims “this is the strangest thing I’ve ever done!” I can only agree, but I fell for the movie enough that it didn’t bother me in the slightest.

“Tangled” is no masterpiece. It takes some time to find the right balance of tone, but when it does, it really works. It is much more modern than “The Princess and the Frog,” but I think it works for the film. If it can make even a twenty-something cynic like me believe in true love for a few minutes, it can do the same for most anyone else.

* * * * (out of 6)

It’s Oscar time, and while I don’t particularly care about the awards themselves, I do care about how the awards are indicative of people’s taste, particularly when those tastes are mistaken (in my opinion). Case in point: “The King’s Speech,” which has recently taken the lead in the Oscar race over David Fincher’s brilliant “The Social Network” thanks to a haul of 12 nominations as well as victories at the DGA and PGA awards. This is one of those prestige films that smelled like Oscar the first I heard of it from Toronto, films that are very well done but completely un-ambitious attempts to earn awards and pander to a generation nostalgic for romantically outdated forms of government. In the interest of disclosing my biases rather than feigning objectivity, I will say that I dislike “The King’s Speech” because it plays all those easy tactics and fools equally complacent and un-ambitious filmgoers into liking it.

The aforementioned antiquated government is the British monarchy, and the time is the period between World War One and Two, when King George V (Michael Gambon in a small role) rules with an eye towards his own mortality. His oldest son, who will become the infamous abdicator Edward VIII (Guy Pearce), already displeases his father with his playboy ways, but his younger brother Bertie (Colin Firth) has a terrible psychological problem with his family that manifests itself in the form of a stammer. This could not come at a worse time, when radio has brought the monarchs closer to the people without the aid of sound editing. With the aid of his loving wife (Helena Bonham Carter), Bertie finds help in an unconventional ally, an Australian speech therapist named Lionel Logue (Geoffrey Rush), who rightly sees Bertie’s speech impediment as the symptom of a much greater malady.

It is impossible to deny the craftsmanship of “The King’s Speech.” It has a punchy script, good camerawork, a pleasant soundtrack and very good sound editing. But as a film with a title about speech indicates, the performances are everything, and for the most part they are very good. Colin Firth, who will surely win the Oscar this year, will have earned it for making the reality of his impediment both painful and endearing. Rush and Carter get to have a lot more fun with their roles and do so with great aplomb. The rapport between Firth and Rush, the heart of the film, is as good as it needs to be to carry the film through. The only irksome performances were the ones that came off the most as impressions, especially since they came from actors who I have seen do much better work. As the preening king-to-be who browbeats his brother, Pearce should carry around a placard that says “I’m a douche,” so that he wouldn’t have to speak with that awful accent. Worse is Timothy Spall who has to do an impression of a parody of Winston Churchill, a character that was better off not being in the film.

But one shouldn’t mistake a fine piece of entertainment for a work of art (though the two shouldn’t be far apart either). “The King’s Speech” is the cinematic equivalent of a pleasant landscape painting at an art museum. It’s nice to look at, but doesn’t create any strong emotions and one could easily pass by it without noticing. Furthermore, it wouldn’t be out of place at a commercial gallery, but someone has deemed it art that should be seen by the general public instead of “art” seen by friends who come over to your house for dinner. The difference is that “The King’s Speech” does nothing remotely provocative or audacious; like the latter, it simply pleases. Not that it doesn’t have the opportunity to say something about monarchy, family, the class differences between Bertie and Lionel, the rise of media, and other interesting ideas that get in the way of a clichéd story. The film keeps us at enough of a distance from Bertie so that we can pity his personal problems without truly understanding their root. He mentions in passing the incalculable damage done by a neglectful nanny and the death of a sibling, but the film shows it more as a litany than unique problems that deserve further exploration. One could argue that this is impossible within the construct of the film, but I’d reply that it is indeed the construct of the film that I take issue with, not the story itself. A film so chained to its formula cannot become anything more than what that form dictates.

But this is just my opinion, an opinion that stands against the vast majority of the critical and popular establishment. Not that I mind of course. Out of its context as a “masterpiece” and an “awards contender” I might have enjoyed the film more, but it is a paradigm that’s un-escapable. It’s still a decent film with great performances, but decent films really shouldn’t rise above their station.

One Good Thing: I’m a sucker for well-used classical music, and any film that uses both my favorite pieces of Beethoven (2nd movement of the 7th symphony and 2nd movement of the 5th piano concerto) is cheating a little. But I have to admit, the use of the former in the climax of the film, when Bertie gives the speech declaring war, is particularly effective, even if they had to edit the piece to fit the speech.

* * * * * ½ (out of 6)

By calling his newest film “an epic of epicness,” Edgar Wright clearly wanted to blow everyone’s minds. On this count, Wright unequivocally succeeded, at least for me. If I hadn’t just seen the 1977 cult-classic-in-the-making “Hausu,” I would easily call “Scott Pilgrim vs. the World” the most visually audacious and overwhelming film I’ve ever seen (they’re tied at the moment). At times it was almost too much and it had its flaws elsewhere, but for sheer balls and an intelligence to match, I’ll give Pilgrim the benefit of the doubt.

Scott Pilgrim (Michael Cera) is a 23 year old slacker living in wintry Toronto with his gay roommate Wallace Wells (a hilarious Kieran Culkin) and dating a high school girl, Knives Chau (Ellen Wong). One day he sees a girl in his dreams who surprisingly exists in real life as well: the mysterious Ramona Flowers (Mary Elizabeth Winstead). When he starts to pursue her, he learns that he must fight her seven evil-exes to win her over.

No one needs to question Wright’s talent; they can see it for themselves in “Shaun of the Dead” and “Hot Fuzz,” two of the best genre films of the past decade. Michael Cera on the other hand, is another story. After coming to the forefront as George-Michael Bluth in “Arrested Development,” some have accused him of playing the same neurotic buffoon ever since, from “Superbad” to “Juno” to “Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist.” For many, Cera has become the poster-boy for a generation of manboys and hipsters and a punching bag for those who hate that generation. For some, his performance is a test of his real potential as an actor, and for others, a confirmation of his worthlessness.

I can assure everyone that Cera is not playing George-Michael here, for George-Michael was never really an asshole like Scott. Scott shows Cera at his most confident and also at his most vulnerable. Scott reminded me more of several of my own friends than any of his past characters, friends who have waffled like Scott in their own love lives and whom I have yelled at to get their act together. I wouldn’t say I sympathized with him, but I understood him as a character and accepted him as a real being. For me, this certainly proves his talent.

On the other hand, Mary Elizabeth Winstead as Scott’s dream girl Ramona Flowers did less for me because she didn’t really do much at all. While all the other girls in the film, such as Scott’s other girlfriend Knives Chau (Ellen Wong), his sister Stacey (Anna Kendrick), his ex-girlfriend and bandmate Kim (Allison Pine), local curmudgeon Julie Powers (Aubrey Plaza) and evil ex #4 Roxy Richter (Mae Whitman AKA Ann Veal [her?]) have so much life and personality, Ramona just has a deadpan. I imagine this comes from O’Malley’s comic rather than from the adaptation. I can accept this mildly on the logic that because I’m not Scott, Ramona doesn’t have to be my dream girl. But I couldn’t help but ask myself what the big deal was as each of her exes took their turn trying to kill Scott.

But perhaps my biggest issue with the film was the pacing. My enjoyment of the film was inversely proportional to the speed of the narrative. From the beginning to the first two evil-exes, Indian mystic Matthew Patel (Satya Bhabha) and movie star Lucas Lee (Chris Evans) I was hooked. But from the third, super-vegan Todd Ingram (Brandon Routh) to the last, everything sped up too much for me. I have no objection with the action sequences, which Wright and the actors, not to mention the rest of the crew, handled impeccably and with so much style and humour. In between, I needed more of a break. I could turn off a video game or close a graphic novel, but I can’t turn off a movie (at least one playing in the theatre). Personally, I wouldn’t have minded an extra 30 minutes with the characters, especially learning more about Roxy and the twins, but maybe the movie wouldn’t have been so mind-blowing. Thankfully the pace slowed at the end, and the excellent performance of Jason Schwartzman as the final evil-ex drew me back in till the end.

Pacing aside, Edgar Wright has made his best directorial effort yet, and in my opinion is the real star of the film. Without the friendly charisma of his two former leads, Simon Pegg and Nick Frost, Wright has to work harder to make the film come to life. Every frame bursts with comedy, invention and a genuine love not only for his own handiwork, but also for the handiwork of his predecessors which he both homages and parodies. To reveal any details would ruin all the fun.

For better or for worse, “Scott Pilgrim vs. the World” represents our time, a time of video games and slackers and bad rock bands (and a great soundtrack as well). It may age in terms of relatability, but hopefully its technical wizardry will never be forgotten or dismissed. Despite my own personal issues with the film, and my desires for it to be something else, I shouldn’t forget or dismiss it either. It may not be my dream movie, but it’s a great one nonetheless.

* * * * * (out of 6)

Does a remake have an obligation to stand up to the quality of the original, or should it just be an entertaining film in its own right while lacking the ambition of its progenitor? This thought has bounced around my mind as I’ve contemplated the impending release of “Let Me In,” the sequel to my favorite film of 2009, “Let The Right One In.” But behind this question lies another: does a film have an obligation to be truly “great” at all? Can good or even very good be in fact good enough? I think for a film like “Dinner for Schmucks” the answer is yes.

I imagine that most people haven’t even heard of the French film that “Dinner for Schmucks” has been remade from. Though I know of the film, 1998′s “The Dinner Game,” like most of the remake’s audience I have not seen the original. But critics who have seen the original view the film poorly, but from the perspective of seeing the original. While that film was a searing examination of the upper class, this has no overarching social message. This film just tries to be funny, and it succeeds at that.

Tim Conrad (Paul Rudd) has a perfect life with a hot girlfriend (Stephanie Szostak), a nice apartment, and an imminent promotion at work. But what stands in the way between him and his promotion is a dinner where he must bring a “talented” person, or what his coworkers call an idiot. He has doubts about doing it until he almost hits the perfect specimen with his car: Barry (Steve Carell), a man who has dedicated his life to creating works of art made with stuffed mice as his subjects. But until the dinner, Tim must deal with the havoc Barry creates which brings in his girlfriend’s eccentric coworker (Jemaine Clement), Tim’s former one-night-stand/stalker (Lucy Punch), and Barry’s coworker (Zach Galifianakis).

What makes this film funny? It’s certainly not the script, co-written by David Guion and Michael Handelman. It follows a very standard plotline, complete with lame coincidences and side adventures gone awry and ending with cheap sentiment. They go a little too far out of their way to convince the audience to like Tim and feel sorry for him when Barry systematically destroys his life, particularly when the audience would rather laugh at his misery. The biggest evidence of the script’s weakness shows in the completely humorless description of Tim’s girlfriend Julie. After a lame joke at the beginning she has nothing to do but walk into all the important scenes at exactly the wrong time, until the end when she walks into the scene at the exact right time.

But what redeems the film and overwhelms the mediocrity of the script are the performances, aided by the direction of Jay Roach (Austin Powers, Meet The Parents). Carell and Rudd are unimpeachable talents, but you don’t even have to know that by watching the previous films they have made together (Anchorman, 40 Year Old Virgin); just watching the promotional material they have done for the movie, like their interview on Moviefone’s Unscripted or the parody of LeBron James’s decision on ESPN, shows not only their vast talent individually, but their incredible chemistry together. In fact, going into the film I feared that the promotional material would be funnier than the actual movie. But Carell and Rudd can weave comedic gold from even the most paltry of scripted straw. The best gift that Roach can give to them is to let them run with the material and capture each and every moment of it, and he does that.

The supporting cast is also strong. The only weak links are the dramatic ones, like Szostak and Ron Livingston, who doesn’t get to do anything fun and only serves to remind us of Office Space. Lucy Punch and Jemaine Clement, both playing slightly insane potential romantic distractions for Tim and Julie, should get a lot of credit for taking roles that in less competent fans could have become repugnant and working well with it. The other cast members from Tim’s office make the most of their short scenes as well, like Bruce Greenwood as Tim’s boss and Daily Show members Larry Wilmore and Kristen Schaal as Tim’s colleague and secretary respectively. But as you may already guess from the previews, Zach Galifianakis steals the show as Carell’s equally idiotic coworker. While the conflict between Carell and Galifianakis has as much sentiment as Tim’s plot, it works better for the two idiots than for Rudd’s “schmuck.”

This is a very funny movie, whose sheer comedic value overrules the weaknesses in the mechanics of the story, characterization, etc. It may not live up to the original, but if you simply want to laugh your head off at great performances, “Dinner for Schmucks” is a good bet.

One Really Good Thing: The mice works of art by Barry, which he calls his “mousterpieces,” look awesome. I do have a predilection for miniatures, but the execution of the mousterpieces is impeccable. I particularly liked the opening credits with Barry crafting his latest work, set to the Beatles’ “Fool on the Hill,” which was funny and kind of touching at the same time, the tone I think the writers were going for the whole time but don’t quite pull off.

* * * * 1/2 (out of 6)

The first line from Tolstoy’s “Anna Karenina” has become such a ubiquitous aphorism that to say it again would be a cliche (if you don’t know it, look it up). That said, “The Kids are All Right” has blown that statement out of the water: not only is the happy family at the beginning of the family a bit different from most, the unhappy family that it becomes has a lot of the same problems as other unhappy families. Many critics have admired the film for not only its entertainment value, but for the mild-mannered look at an unconventional family; however, I think this praise is a bit overstated. As an entertaining, good-looking film it definitely succeeds, but as a piece of art or an analysis of family and the culture as a whole it’s narrowminded and hypocritical.

For their entire lives, Joni (Mia Wasikowska) and Laser (Josh Hutcherson) have lived a happy, contented life in Southern California with their two mothers, the breezy Jules (Julianne Moore), and the slightly uptight but ferociously caring Nic (Annette Bening). One day Laser convinces his older sister to try to make contact with their biological father, who donated sperm to both the women. They discover that their father is Paul (Mark Ruffalo), an extremely laid-back gardener with an eye for the ladies. When Paul attempts to come into the life of the family, things become complicated.

Despite the fact that the parents of the family are two women, writer/director Lisa Cholodenko gives the family a surprisingly conservative sense of family values. The four present themselves as a closed family unit, and treat Paul, who may or may not have a legitimate claim to be a part of the family, as an outsider whose lifestyle they regularly mock behind his back. Only when some family members show an interest in him do matters get complicated. Paul makes an admirable effort to enter the family, but since it’s always easier to keep someone out of a family than to let them in, when Paul makes one mistake, albeit a big one that’s initiated by a member of the family, they keep him out while making a double standard for the family member that erred. This really put me off, because of the general lack of tolerance and compassion eventually shown by all members of the family, a lack of compassion shared with people who don’t believe that their kind of family has any right to exist.

Some could say that I don’t like the plot and that I’m criticizing the film because it doesn’t have a happy ending (though the film says that it has a happy ending of sorts, not the one I wanted), which to a certain extent may be true. But Cholodenko appears to endorse this exclusive attitude towards family, an endorsement that disturbs me. If she shown that maybe they were wrong in making that decision, I wouldn’t criticize it. In terms of the overall arc of the story, the film plays a lot like Atom Egoyan’s “Chloe,” which also shares both an obsession with sexuality as well as the performance of Moore as a beleaguered housewife who experiments with her sexuality to relieve her domestic troubles (seriously, she can’t catch a break; even as a lesbian she becomes yet again a troubled housewife). Chloe and Paul function as the same outside force that aggresses against the family, and both families reject them like a nasty virus. In both cases, Moore suffers from having a weakly written part; both her characters are defined by their oppression from their lifestyles, and little else. Both only cross the line when their escape becomes a sexual one. Perhaps it is the line itself that needs to be rejected, not the characters that compel the housewife to cross it.

It helps my criticism that Ruffalo does such an excellent job with his role. His charisma always keeps him front and center, even when that charisma leads to negative effects. Nevertheless he acts with the best of intentions with little reward. Perhaps he plays Paul as too sympathetic; perhaps he should have brought his flaws more to the forefront over his charm so that it seems more self-destructive than it so obviously isn’t. On the other hand, if he had been a little more uptight, the story might not have happened in the first place. He’s not the onyl one that gives a great performance; kudos also go to both Bening and Wasikowska, whose acting here has convinced that her mediocrity in “Alice in Wonderland” has more to do with the badness of that film than with her innate talent. But it’s undeniable that Ruffalo brings most of the life and fun to this film, the same life and fun that becomes his downfall.

The kids of the title may have given more of their own verve to the film had they had a stronger plot line. After they provide the catalyst of the film, they have little to do, complete with little plot lines that go nowhere. Joni has a crush on a friend who sees her only as a friend. Besides offering up the best piece of wisdom in the whole film, the possibility that not every relationship has to be sexualized, some advice the writer should have taken, this subplot goes nowhere. Even when it climaxes at a party near the end of the film, Joni quickly brushes it off. Laser’s subplot with a douchebag friend doesn’t even make it to the end of the film. Once it serves its own part of the plot, to alert Nic and Jules that Laser and Joni have made contact with Paul, it too quickly dies away. But since this film is all about the strength of the nuclear family, it makes perfect sense that the kids would abandon these stories to band back together.

These are thoughts that came up after the film, as I was thinking about it and my anger grew. During the film in particular I remained continuously entertained and laughed quite a bit. But as a piece of art or a look at the modern American family, which I believe it’s trying to be, I found to be weak, simple, and uncaring, just like the family at the center of it. It’s easy to remain tribalistic and protect one’s own, but it’s harder to reach out to others, perhaps too hard for Cholodenko to believe in.

One Really Good Thing: The scene at the very end, when Joni heads off to college, is very touching, particularly because it is told visually rather than through dialogue like most of the film. Her family leaves for a minute, but she suddenly fears that they will be gone forever. This moment is quite powerful, thanks to both the camerawork and Wasikowska. Too bad it was at the end of this film.

* * * * * (out of 6)

To the uninitiated, myself included, Joan Rivers is just a punchline for two jokes: old age and plastic surgery. Despite this low reputation in the public eye, Rivers has managed by sheer willpower to carve a successful career for over 40 years as a comedian, playwright, actress, author and celebrity icon, and she shows no signs of slowing down. While this documentary serves mostly as a celebration of her career and her free spirit, it’s also not afraid to bring her flaws and insecurities to the unblinking camera. In fact, it is those very flaws that have made Joan Rivers the success she is.

Director Ricki Stern and co-director Anne Sundberg have documented a year in the life of the self-proclaimed “semi-legend,” starting from a low point in her career. They made a wise decision to only skim her long past, because the 75-year-old Rivers herself remains doggedly focused on the present in the pursuit of keeping herself relevant. There are many people around her, but Rivers drives them all with an almost inhuman will. Though she lives opulently, she acts as if she’s on the edge of poverty. This drive, combined with her complete self-awareness, makes her almost a tragic figure, who promises to fight until the bitter end. It’s quite inspiring, but also a little disturbing.

Even when she has the drive of a madman, she retains a beautiful humanity. She has a good relationship with her daughter Melissa, though she doesn’t approve of her daughter’s decision to follow her into show business. She has to deal with the absence of her longtime friend and assistant when she needs him the most. There’s one scene when she goes delivering turkey dinners to the ill on Thanksgiving, and she delivers one to a photographer who succumbed to multiple sclerosis, making Joan reflect on her luck. Though Joan has the need to fight relentlessly, she never forgets that she’s one of the lucky ones.

While I never doubted that this was the honest look at Rivers, at the same time it’s just another show for her. Rivers declared that she’s willing to pursue all routes to put herself out there, from books to comedy shows to her appearances on “Comedy Central Roast” and “Celebrity Apprentice” to her autobiographical play. I’m sure that this documentary is another device by her to put herself on top. But it speaks well of her that she knows that she has to show all sides of her – warts and all – to become a good documentary subject. With the success this documentary has had so far, I hope she continues to fight the good fight.

* * * * 1/2 (out of 6)

“Salt” takes its skeleton of its premise from “The Manchurian Candidate” and the meat of its style from the Jason Bourne movies, but it also had a lot of promise to be something more. It has the freshness of a female lead taken seriously, played by an extremely charismatic actress, Oscar winner Angelina Jolie (who gets by surprisingly well despite having little character), as well as the surprise factor of relevance from the recent arrests of Russian sleeper agents. But as a clear origin story, it holds back its potential nuances of character and tension, and tries to satisfy the audience with competent and even sometimes clever action. In the wake of the Bourne movies and the recent “Inception,” settling for stunts just isn’t enough.

Evelyn Salt (Jolie) appears to be a dedicated agent in the CIA, even going through a bad ordeal in North Korea, getting out with the help of her superior Ted Winter (Liev Schreiber) and husband (August Diehl). But this image is shattered by the arrival of a Russian defector (Daniel Olbrychski) who accuses Salt of being a Russian sleeper agent who plans to return the former Soviet Union to its past glory. Salt vehemently denies this, but runs away, making the Feds, led by Winter and Peabody (Chiwetel Ejiofor) pursue her. But where do her loyalties really lie?

Although writer Kurt Wimmer (Equilibrium, Ultraviolet, Law Abiding Citizen) and director Phillip Noyce try their best to keep Salt’s identity ambiguous, it’s pretty obvious given this kind of movie. Furthermore, this device tries to emulate Bourne’s own identity crisis, but the filmmakers have forgotten that Bourne actually didn’t know his identity, and his quest for it matched the audience’s quest for his identity, making that arc dramatically effective. Here, Salt knows exactly who she is, but just doesn’t tell us, alienating the audience from the protagonist. They would have done better to focus more on Ejiofor’s character, who’s supposed to be just as confused as the audience. Since we focus mostly on Jolie, we never learn much about the two Feds chasing her, which is a shame. Since she’s supposed to be a villain, shouldn’t they be heroes? Now I’m not saying that every movie needs a hero; but if the filmmakers want the audience to care about a protagonist, we should know what they were doing. I’ll grant that it’s an interesting idea in theory, but fails in practice.

There is a time when characters interact each other in a meaningful way, but that only happens at the end of the movie. But when it came along, I quite liked it, especially since it reminded me that Jolie, Schreiber and Ejiofor could act, and it almost redeemed the whole movie for me. I won’t tell you what happens, since that would be a spoiler, but suffice it to say that if Wimmer and Noyce get the chance to make a sequel, they could make a substantially better film than this one. If that came to pass, it would make this film look a lot better by association. But until that sequel comes along, this only passes as mildly disappointing action fluff.

One Really Good Thing: That said, the action is pretty decent, and I enjoyed myself most of the way though. I quite enjoyed a scene that took place at a church where Jolie actually used a pipe organ in her scheming. Any action film that uses church music in the story is good by me! (Well, almost.)