Let's face it: being Will Smith has got to be exhausting. He's a megawatt star who brings people of every race, class and gender to the theater, he's proven his range with action, romantic comedy, thriller and dramatic roles, and he's got a family-man, squeaky-clean image. Whether he likes it or not, he's a role model. Thus, the opportunity, albeit a risky one, to play a vulgar, alcoholic, sloppy superhero must have been attractive. In Peter Berg's intriguing "Hancock," Smith shows that even the most despicable characters have a shot at salvation. This innovative take on the superhero flick is both entertaining and carries an emotional weight not often seen in the genre, but it loses track halfway through and rushes towards an ending that is less than satisfying.

John Hancock (Will Smith) can leap tall buildings, toss cars as if they were tennis balls, and deflect bullets with just his skin. He can also drink like a fish, talk like a sailor, and spends most of his time passed out on a park bench. He stops crime in Los Angeles when he feels like it, so the city tolerates his presence even though no one can stand him. When he does step in, though, he causes the city a lot of damage (finally, a superhero who suffers the consequences of the big, flashy action sequences!). His first heroic act of the film is stopping a high-speed chase, during which he busts through road signs, destroys part of the highway, and leaves an SUV speared on the top of a building. The tally? $9 million. 

The public hates him, but he doesn't seem to care. When he saves do-gooder public-relations rep Ray (Jason Bateman) by throwing his car out of the path of an oncoming train but in effect causes a huge train wreck, Hancock suffers a slew of insults from an angry crowd. "Couldn't you have just flown the car straight up into the air? You're such an asshole," they cry. Ray, happy to be alive, decides to thank Hancock by giving him an image makeover, instructing him to be more careful on take-offs and landings (avoid the $100,000 cars), ditch the hobo fashions for a sleeker costume, and say "good job" to local law enforcement. As Hancock tries to redeem himself - unenthusiastically at first - we learn more about his past, his powers, and the strange connection he has with Ray's wife Mary (Charlize Theron).

As I said before, Smith's likability makes this role an interesting choice. I can't decide if it's a flaw in the character of Hancock or not, but Smith's comic timing and facial expressions make it hard to find the uncouth hero offensive. Even when tossing children into the air or grabbing at women, Hancock still possesses that Will Smith charm. He seems to be having a hard time giving the character an edge; throughout the film Smith screws up his face to create a grimace, but it looks more painful than angry. 

Theron also seems an odd choice for the role as Mary. In recent films, she has avoided the pretty-girl image by playing plain, severe, and even ugly women ("In The Valley of Elah," "North Country," and "Monster"). Here, she lets her wavy blonde hair fall around her shoulders and wears understated but flattering clothing. Mary's secret, which I will not divulge here, becomes apparent the first time she and Hancock lock eyes. What Mary has to hide becomes the central focus of the final third of the film, and though Theron does her best to give the film the emotional weight it needs to make the relationship believable, director Berg rushes the film towards a chaotic and melodramatic ending that leaves the viewer wanting more.

"Hancock" is not an origin story, mainly because our hero can't remember where he came from or what he is. The script, written by Vincent Ngo and Vince Gallian (who often wrote for "The X-Files" television series and is behind the script for the upcoming "The X-Files: I Want to Believe"), is sharp and edgy in some parts, soft and cliche in others, but all actors make the most of their lines. Bateman, always funny, gives Ray a childlike innocence and sense of obliviousness that makes him impossible to dislike. "Hancock," which was watered down from a more violent and more sexual R-rated script, retains only a little of the 13-year-old-boy humor (I'm thinking of a prison threat turned into a new meaning of rape by Hancock in jail) and trades dumb gags for more entertaining lines and more interesting tensions. 

Director Peter Berg, whose last film "The Kingdom" was an all-out action movie, changes his plan of attack with "Hancock," using shaky cameras to get in close on his actors. These close-ups are part of what makes "Hancock" stand apart from other entries in the superhero genre. Thus, when the film does give way to the climactic battles and CG spectacles we all expect going in -- the trailer hints at a lot more whale-throwing and tornado-twirling -- it jolts and unnerves us. "Hancock" might have, dare I say it, benefitted from a few more action sequences, if only to stretch the story out a little longer. Just as we begin to learn more about Hancock's past, the film speeds towards a quick but untidy ending. At just under 90 minutes, "Hancock" teases the viewer with an idea but concludes with a conventional ending not expected for such an unconventional character. I guess that's what we get when studios step in and take control of a script.

In the opening scene of "Wanted," a man in business attire runs down a hallway at the top of an office building and bursts through a plate-glass window, leaping across to another rooftop in a shower of glass. This "Matrix"-style scene is only the first of many, giving the audience a taste of all of high-intensity action sequences to come. However, with all of the over-the-top violence and non-stop action, "Wanted" disappoints with the lack of a strong script or intriguing story.

"Wanted" is Kazakhstan-born director Timur Bekmambetov's first venture into American cinema. Best known for his Russian sci-fi vampire thrillers "Day Watch" and "Night Watch," based on a fantasy trilogy by Russian author Sergei Lukyanenko, Bekmambetov seems the perfect director to tackle the film based on comic book mini-series "Wanted" by Mark Millar and J.G. Jones. The film is part origin story, part revenge flick, and part drama. If only all of these parts had combined to make a memorable whole.

Twenty-five-year-old Wesley Gibson (James McAvoy) begins the film by complaining that he feels nothing but suffers frequent panic attacks that send his heart racing and blood pulsing. He is cubicle-bound in a dead-end accounting job, his boss is a bitch, his fratboyish best friend is sleeping with his girlfriend, and his apartment is a dump. Even though he is clearly unsatisfied, he does not care enough to change his situation. 

His humdrum existence is turned upside down when the beautiful and deadly Fox (Angelina Jolie) appears and tells him that she was sent to protect him from Cross (Thomas Kretschmann), a rogue assassin who killed his father (the airborne gentleman from the first sequence). The point at which Fox screams by in a red sports car, does a 360-degree turn, and scoops Wesley into the passenger seat without even touching the break pedal is when you, the viewer, must make a choice. Do you go along with the ride or complain about the lack of physics and grumble about the $8.50 you just spent on the ticket?

Gibson is recruited into the "Fraternity," a 1,000-year-old secret society of assassins led by Sloan (Morgan Freeman). Since it's Morgan Freeman, we immediately trust him, believing his claims that the names revealed in the fabric made by the Loom of Fate (woven in binary, of course) are bad people who must be killed. As a member of the Fraternity, Gibson learns to bend bullets, dart across the tops of trains, and shoot the wings off of flies. He leaves the world of sheep to become a wolf, but does he really understand what he's getting himself into? 

Written by Micahel Brandt and Derek Haas, the same team behind the recent remake of "3:10 To Yuma," "Wanted" could have and should have been so much better. The characters in Wesley's pre-Fraternity life lack dimension and motivation. They might as well have been portrayed by those cardboard cut-outs that stand in the windows of comic book shops. The script is weak and rough, and until Fox appeared in all of her tattooed and charcoal-eyed glory, I feared the worst. "Wanted" then got better for a bit, but started going downhill about halfway through. 

However, even with a lackluster script, "Wanted" is, at parts, undeniably badass and a triumph of post-production and special effects. Possessing what must be only a handful of non-CGI shots, the film impresses, stuns, invigorates, and most importantly, entertains. The camera follows intricately-designed bullets through impossible trajectories and cars are jumped and flipped like Matchbox toys. In turn, though, the viewer must question the necessity of some of the stunts - is shooting a man from the roof of a speeding train really the best plan? Must Fox perform hip-cracking yoga in order to fit under the tunnel? And, now that I think about it, what made these ancient weavers decide to become trained killers? And what's with all the fast motion and slow motion? Can't we just let this play out in real time? But for every question that popped into my head, I immediately thought, "Oh, never mind." 

The first half of the film is an origin story and a fantastic one at that. I'm quite sure that anyone would follow and believe Angelina Jolie, especially after she shoots out the windshield, slides out onto the hood of the car, and straddles you while she fires at the car behind you, but the following sequence of Gibson's training and transformation from account manager to instinctive assassin is tight, effective, and extremely well done. It's in the second half of the film that the action gives new meaning to the world "ridiculous" and the plot falls apart. Gibson learns the truth behind the Fraternity's motives, but by this point, the story has gone so far off the track that it doesn't matter anymore and you just kind of have to go with it.

Instead, we're forced to drool at the bloody violence and impossible action. A train full of innocent passengers careens off of a bridge and plummets into the abyss between two mountains, but never mind the consequences. Somehow, the two people we need to care about have survived, so who cares about the others? And in a final one-man-against-many (just how many people are there in this Fraternity?) battle, Gibson fires repeatedly through the gaping hole he has just blown in the skull of a former comrade, proving that Bekmambetov has studied up on his Tarantino and Wachowski brothers.

As Gibson, the Scottish-born James McAvoy, who has dazzled in dramas "The Last King of Scotland" and "Atonement," makes his grand entrance into the action film genre. He plays both of Gibson's personas (pre- and post-Fraternity) with skill, looking downtrodden and hopeless in a shirt and tie beneath a windbreaker and tough and powerful in a leather jacket and wielding a gun. He takes on the emotional depth of Gibson's character with all of the care he gave to previous, more emotionally-demanding roles; if only he had a better script to work with. Jolie shines as the sly but believable Fox; this is Mrs. Smith taken to the next level. Looking at her past roles, it's no great surprise that Jolie can kick ass and look amazing doing it, but with "Wanted" she also incorporates the emotion and depth typically saved for pieces like "Changeling" and "A Mighty Heart." She is a piece of the Fraternity machine, but that does not mean that she follows orders mindlessly. 

Overall, "Wanted" is the sort of film that is meant to set up a franchise. Comic books, video games and movies are all merging into one big monster with sights set on the consumer market, and though "Wanted" sets up the sort of story - the apathetic nobody finds his inner strength and becomes a powerful hero - that makes for great characters with dimension and moral challenges, it unfortunately trades intrigue and depth for adrenaline-packed action and relentlessly bloody violence. 

In a recent interview, "Wall-E" director Andrew Stanton was asked to name some of his favorite films. Topping the list was "Lawrence of Arabia," followed by "The Lion in Winter," "Cool Hand Luke," "Close Encounters of the Third Kind" and several others. "Hey," Stanton said, "there's no animation in my top ten." For most people, this wouldn't be a surprise. Stanton, on the other hand, was one of the first two animators to join the Pixar team; you would think he'd at least give a shout-out to "Snow White," or "Fantasia," or "Pinocchio." Yet, paradoxically, Stanton's list provides a look into what makes "Wall-E" - and the wide majority of Pixar's output to this point - so extraordinary. They make films that, like those Disney classics, transcend categorization as animated movies. The movies are animated, of course, and stunningly so; there's no question that Pixar remains on the cutting edge of technology. But these are films, plain and simple, and they never forget to pay homage and respect to the past even while paving the way to the future. The forebears here are the films of comedians like Charlie Chaplin, Buster Keaton and Jacques Tati, and Stanton and his animators have created a character to match up with those men's screen personas.

The last remaining robot on an Earth that, as the film opens, has been abandoned by humans for over 700 years, WALL-E (an acronym for Waste Allocation Load Lifter, Earth-Class) spends his days gathering and compacting the piles of waste that have rendered the planet uninhabitable. "Wall-E" introduces us to its hero and his surroundings through a 40-minute, nearly dialogue-free opening that is, in its way, every bit as stunning as the silent first act of Paul Thomas Anderson's "There Will Be Blood." Designed with the assistance of legendary cinematographer Roger Deakins ("No Country for Old Men"), this sequence has the pure visual expressiveness of silent cinema and, in its wittily choreographed physical humor, evokes the graceful slapstick of Chaplin and Keaton. Can a robot have a soul? WALL-E, with his deeply expressive eyes and human concerns, suggests the affirmative. He collects interesting trinkets, watches a worn copy of "Hello, Dolly!" religiously and longs for companionship beyond the single cockroach he keeps as a friend.

Enter EVE, a sleek white robot sent to Earth to search for biological life, with whom WALL-E falls head-over-heels for. When EVE returns to her home base, a massive interstellar luxury cruiser known as the Axiom, WALL-E stows aboard to stay close to his new love. The relationship between WALL-E and EVE provides a romantic core to the second half of the film, which takes place on the Axiom. The ship that provided the human race a way to escape from their inhospitable home, the Axiom's design draws influence from Chaplin's "Modern Times" and the sterile metropolises of Tati. The simple beauty of the film's first forty minutes gives way to the inspired chaos that marked earlier Pixar efforts like "Toy Story."

Stanton imagines a world where mankind has been rendered so passive by their reliance on commercialized technology (represented here by Buy 'n' Large, a Wal-Mart stand-in that seems to have taken over every aspect of life on Earth) that even walking has become unthinkable. The Axiom's citizens are grotesque, nearly-boneless slabs of flesh that float around on moving chairs and drink liquidized meals through straws. It's a clever look at the future of our current culture, and combined with the images of the earth as an uninhabitable waste-land, it forms the basis of the film's political message. As an engagement with our current political situation, it's unusual stuff for a kid's movie (there's even video footage of Fred Willard as Earth's CEO/president, a bumbling fool who urges citizens to "stay the course," which is admittedly kind of a cheap shot), and although it can't help but feel like some sort of letdown after the almost otherworldly beauty of the film's first act, it represents a level of intellectual and satirical ambition unmatched by Pixar's previous works.

It is also, with the possible exception of "Toy Story 2," the most emotionally involving film Pixar has made to date. It's no mean feat to evoke feelings for machines, but Stanton goes even farther than that; WALL-E and EVE are among the most sympathetic characters to have appeared in an animated feature. Once the Axiom returns to Earth, so do the film's aesthetic strategies; dialogue disappears, and WALL-E and EVE's relationship takes center stage once more. And as the film closes, silently and in moving homage to Chaplin's "City Lights," Stanton reminds us that sometimes we say the most when we aren't saying anything at all.

Leave it to Pixar to take a post-apocalyptic theme, a protagonist reminiscent of silent movie comedians, and an environmental message and create a film that is at once humorous, touching, and romantic. "WALL-E," directed by Andrew Stanton, is the tale of the little robot who, after 700 years alone, ends up saving our devastated planet, and all because of a pretty girl. Looks like things won't change too much in the future.

When the trash heaps became overpowering and earth was no longer hospitable to humans, the planet was evacuated to a giant space station called the Axiom, and little trash-compacting bots (Waste Allocation Load Lifter - Earth class) were left behind to clean up the mess. Over the years, all of these little guys have become defunct, except for WALL-E. WALL-E, a clunky trash compactor, spends his days collecting garbage and stacking it into makeshift skyscrapers. When he finds something he likes (a bra, a bobble-head, a rubik's cube, even a spork), he takes it home and stores it in his trailer. At night, he watches an old recording of the musical "Hello, Dolly!" with his friend, a cockroach. It is through this near-forgotten musical that he realizes what his life is missing: someone to hold hands with. 

During a normal day of work, WALL-E notices a red beam on the ground and follows it until a large spacecraft lands practically on top of him. Out hovers EVE (Extra-terrestrial Vegetation Evaluator), a sleek and shiny robot as pretty as anything on the shelf at your local Apple store. WALL-E thinks she is his chance for love and gives her a gift: a small green plant. This tiny sign of life sends EVE back to the space station, and WALL-E tags along for the adventure of a lifetime.

The muddied colors of the earth WALL-E is tasked with cleaning is astounding, but you don't realize the gravity of the environment's plight until that one tiny plant appears on screen. Never has a glimpse of the color green been so moving; this gentle handling of the topic continues throughout the rest of the film, allowing Stanton to concentrate on story and characters instead of beating a political message into the ground. "WALL-E" is a cautionary tale, not a slap on the wrist. 

WALL-E's dusty and scrapped world is contrasted with outer space and the Axiom. As WALL-E hangs on to the side of EVE's ship, he takes the audience on a wonderful voyage, passing over planets, the sun (MacNerds pay attention to our lead's start-up sound), and through star fields. The imagery is unbelievably beautiful, rivaling the footage shown in planetariums and natural history museums. 

The humans of "WALL-E" are infantile blobs whose arms and legs have been reduced to nearly-useless flipper-like appendages. They hover around in automatic recliners, drink all of their meals from plastic cups, and live with their heads surrounded by projected screens. In the vein of COSTCO and Sam's Club comes Buy 'N Large, the superstore that makes everything from baby food to the space station on which these humans live. Everything that they could possibly want is made available to them in this floating utopia, but these people are too spoiled to realize it. This is the world and race created by consumerism. It can't be all bad, though; after all, WALL-E himself is a product of Buy 'N Large. It is in this detail that Stanton cleverly illustrates the dual nature of creativity. 

"WALL-E" marks director Andrew Stanton's second outing as a Pixar director (his first was "Finding Nemo"), and this tale of an unlikely hero certainly places him among the pantheon of talent that resides in Emeryville, CA. The story is the child of both Stanton and co-writer Jim Reardon (a longtime contributor on "The Simpsons"). The team has skillfully blended a subtle environmental message into a family-friendly romantic comedy. 

Being a Pixar film, "WALL-E" is guaranteed to feature top-notch animation. "WALL-E" doesn't disappoint, but I don't feel the need to repeat here what everyone knows going in to the film. Instead, I will focus on the sound design for the film. The first half-hour or so contains no dialogue, but trust me, you'll hardly miss it. Instead, WALL-E's world is filled with cranks, bleeps, blips, and squeals, all orchestrated by the master sound designer Ben Burtt, also responsible for the sound in "E.T.," the "Indiana Jones" series, and the "Star Wars" films. So much character is given to this little guy purely through sound effects. With binocular eyes and no mouth, WALL-E generates a symphony of different noises, combining with slapstick physical humor to create a contemporary (or future, I guess) Buster Keaton with treads. He and EVE communicate in similar chirps, some of which mesh together to create the heart-wrenching cries and coos of "EEE-VAA" and "WALL-E!"

Every studio has a flop, but Pixar, who has been churning out instant classics for the past 13 years, doesn't appear to have gotten the message. "WALL-E" is certain to be listed among the best films of 2008 and will be recognized come Oscar season for the Best Animated film category if not Best Picture. With this beautifully-rendered film, "WALL-E'"s creators have shown that beauty and goodness can survive an inhospitable planet; it comes in a little yellow box. 

Film adaptations of graphic novels have taken many forms in the past few years. Some are grounded in realism, like Sam Mendes' screen version of Collins and Rayners' Road to Perdition. Others are highly-stylized, like Robert Rodriguez's adaptation of Frank Miller's Sin City. Vincent Paronnaud and Marjane Satrapi's 2007 film Persepolis, which recounts one woman's memories of growing up during the Iranian Revolution, manages to be both, creating an honest tale that unfolds like a delicate French fairy tale.

Persepolis is the sum of Marjane Satrapi's two autobiographical graphic novels, Persepolis I  and Persepolis II, which recount her upbringing in Tehran in the 1970s, '80s, and '90s. Nine-year-old Marjane is precocious and outspoken, but is growing up just as the fundamentalists take over in Iran. Thousands are imprisoned and women are forced to cover themselves with veils. Living with her family and community in terror of the government and the war with Iraq, Marjane westernizes herself with punk rock music and American icons. Her parents, fearing for her safety, send her to a French school in Vienna. Here, she struggles to find her place as her peers equate her Iranian heritage with the country's current political situation. She finally starts to fit in in Europe, but finds herself homesick and alone and thus gives up her freedom to return home. But the times have changed Iran, and the country is no longer the home she once knew. She ultimately decides to leave for France, where Satrapi currently resides, and where the film begins - the airport at Orly.

There is a theory commonly applied to anime that describes the power and ability of animation to present audiences with horrific or disturbing images. The idea is that through animation, anything the artist can imagine can be put on the screen. Likewise, the medium distances the audience just enough so that the horrors of war can be shown without deterring the viewer. Persepolis certainly isn't as naturalistic as Barefoot Gen or Grave of the Fireflies, but it by no means fails in representing the effects of the Iranian Revolution on Marjane's family and friends. The silhouettes of fallen citizens and the clouds of smoke that rise from bombed-out buildings say more about the pain felt by the Iranian people than even the best 3D animation could.

Persepolis may appear to be stark; it's true that the film is black, white, and shades of gray with only a few carefully-chosen moments of color. However, the warmth that the simple and welcoming animation style exudes envelops the viewer like an old Peanuts cartoon. Persepolis could have been brought to the screen as a live action film (and Satrapi has said that she was approached with a script that would place Brad Pitt and Jennifer Lopez in the roles of Marjane's parents!), but it would have lost the emotive quality of Satrapi's no-frills style. 

Despite it's cartoony visage, Persepolis is a grim tale of oppression and fear. However, the film never slips into melodrama. Instead, Persepolis maintains a quick wit and light charm throughout. The character of Marjane's grandmother is an excellent example. She is a steadfast example to Marjane of the importance of recognizing and being loyal to her heritage. She's also a little bit saucy and clearly won't be anyone's fool, showing the audience from where Marjane inherited her headstrong behavior). 

Persepolis is a near-perfect film that suffers only from presenting the audience with so many heavy subjects. Having known nothing about Iranian politics going into the film, I still found myself slightly confused upon leaving. I did enjoy the whimsical animated puppet show that illustrated the country's history and the reasons for being at war. Satrapi's tale is enormous and full of heart. Coming of age tales are one thing, and war stories are another, but to execute both to near-perfection is a rare treat. 

If I believed everything I saw in the movies, my high school experience could have been a hell of a lot more interesting. In December, little Juno MacGuff of "Juno" taught us that teen pregnancy is okay as long as it's put to a hip soundtrack. And now, Charlie Bartlett of "Charlie Bartlett" shows how peddling drugs to your high school buddies is cool if you pair the prescription with advice. 

After being kicked out of the last private school around, Charlie Bartlett (Anton Yelchin) moves back home to attend public school. His dad is in prison, so it's just Charlie and his self-medicating mom Marilyn (Hope Davis). Whereas he was a troublemaker at his previous school, he's simply getting beaten up at Western Summit High. Failing miserably at gaining popularity (it doesn't help that he wears a sports jacket and carries an attache case), he studies the social hierarchy and discovers what the school needs. Through his eager charm and desire to help, Charlie becomes a sort of psychiatrist for the student body. Teaming up with bully Murhpy Bivens (Tyler Hilton), Charlie doles out advice and pills collected from the psychiatrist his mother keeps on call. Along the way to popularity, Charlie falls in love with Susan (Kat Dennings), the daughter of the school's world-weary principal Nathan Gardner (Robert Downey, Jr.). It is with the help of these two characters that Charlie begins to figure out who he is and where he belongs. After all, isn't that what high school is all about?

Looking at the synopsis for "Charlie Bartlett," it seems as though it could be an old John Hughes movie. "Bartlett" sets itself apart from films like "Sixteen Candles" and "Pretty in Pink" by portraying an oddly optimistic high school student body that is capable of being united. Here, not only does the geeky guy get the girl, but he brings everyone from the jocks to the special education kids together in a happily ever after ending. 

Unfortunately, what could have become a dark comedy bursting with wit and cynicism ultimately plays out like an after-school special. "Charlie Bartlett" touches on a lot of serious issues like suicide, addiction, and dysfunctional families, but never quite dives in. One student almost dies from overdosing on the pills that Charlie gave him, but since Principal Gardner doesn't have enough evidence to pin it to Charlie, all Charlie gets is a stern talking to and a recommendation to "do the right thing." 

During the scenes in which Charlie is handing out advice from bathroom stalls, it's hard to take him seriously. Charlie is eager to be liked and honestly seems like he wants to help, but it's difficult to look past the naive rich kid wanting to be popular. Anton Yelchin plays Charlie to be the kid you want to hate but can't. His enthusiasm reminded me of the Charlie Bartlett of my high school: a briefcase-carrying, libertarian nut job that was always trying to tell me his latest theories on how the government should be run. Yelchin's acting seems stilted, as if he's wearing a back brace and talking through a forced smile, but he exudes a peculiar quality in awkward moments, such as when he breaks into song at the piano or puts on an accent, that makes him inexplicably likable. His performance is a little bit cheesy, but this can be forgiven since the entire film carries a tongue-in-cheek tone.

Though Yelchin portrays the film's titular character, it is Robert Downey Jr's Principal Gardner that steals the show. His melancholy and despondent Gardner loves his daughter, is losing control of his job, and sinking further into madness and alcoholism. Downey Jr., who possesses a great unpredictability and slight madness, gives Gardner an air of cynicism and insanity that appears to be necessary to cope with running a public high school. He is hapless and the student body hates him, but this does not discourage him enough to not want to help Charlie realize that he's "just a kid." As Charlie sees it, Gardner needs him to help him control the school. But from Gardner's point of view, Charlie is a kid that was forced to grow up too fast and now is in need of control himself. In one of the final scenes, Gardner offers Charlie advice that turns out to be the funniest line of the film: "Never, never attack a drunk guy with a gun."

When I went to see "Charlie Bartlett" in Atlanta, I was the only person in the auditorium. This was great for me, but it doesn't bode well for the film's reception by audiences. "Charlie Bartlett" was entertaining, but not something I'll watch again. With its failure to see the dark comedic potential of the subjects it touches on but doesn't explore, the film falls short of what is needed to become a cult classic like "Rushmore" or "The Breakfast Club." 

Bruges is the capital and largest city of West Flanders in Belgium. The city is known for its historic value as most of its medieval architecture is intact. Bruges is a quiet town that looks as if it's been preserved in a fairy tale. Enter Ray and Ken. In Bruges, theatre writer Martin McDonagh's first feature-length film, is an energetic romp that not only presents the viewer with great characters, but it also offers a tour of a beautiful city.

Ray (Colin Farrell) has just successfully pulled off his first hit, a priest, but he accidentally murdered a little boy in the process. Since killing a child is unacceptable, Ray and Ken (Brendan Gleeson) have been sent to Bruges by their boss Harry (Ralph Fiennes) to hide out and wait for instructions. Though Ken is instantly enraptured by the medieval town, Ray finds it boring, saying, "I grew up in Dublin. Had I grown up on a farm, or was retarded, Bruges might impress me. But I didn't and I'm not, so it doesn't." 

While wandering through the city streets, Ray happens upon a film set where he meets Chloe (Clémence Poésy) and a dwarf named Jimmy (Jordan Prentice). Chloe doesn't turn out to be who she seemed, bringing Eirik (Jérémie Renier), a skinhead pickpocket into the mix. When Harry finally calls and informs Ken that Ray is the next hit, Ken is forced to decide whether or not to obey his boss and eliminate his friend. I won't dare reveal the ending, but the way in which In Bruges brings all of its players together is genius.

The film is a dark comedy, at times bordering on absurdity and at others approaching depressing. From the first scenes, in which we see what Ray has done, we don't know whether to laugh or cry. By the end, we are laughing if only to break the tension. 

In Bruges is some of Colin Farrell's best work in what has sadly become quite a long time. This may be a result of the film's allowing him to just be an Irish lad. Bruges is, in his terms, a "shithole," and though guilty for his crime, he can't wait to return to London. For Ray, everything is a game; he offends a family of large American tourists, is fascinated by midgets, and punches a man and his girlfriend in a restaurant for complaining about cigarette smoke in the smoking section. Farrell transitions from funny to serious almost seamlessly, showing the oceans of guilt that lay within his immature exterior.

Brendan Gleeson's Ken is gruff but sympathetic, and is trying to be as good a person as he can be despite what he's done in the past. While dragging Ray to museums and churches throughout the city, the pair share their thoughts on the afterlife and what their occupation means for their souls. In this way, In Bruges uses the city to develop the characters. The establishing shots play as an homage to the city, presenting us with postcard views of this fairy tale place without feeling like a documentary. 

The views of the quiet tourist town also serve as ironic contrast to the mayhem taking place between all of the characters. A beautiful door opens to reveal an apartment full of guns and ammunition, a 13th-century belfry becomes the site of a heartbreaking suicide, and a peaceful hotel is transformed into the starting grounds for a shoot-out. 

Despite comedic sequences featuring prostitutes and a coked-out midget, or Fiennes' Harry taking out his frustration on his phone, In Bruges takes a dramatic and almost surrealist turn towards the end. As Harry arrives in Bruges to take care of the job himself, the film becomes a string of twists and turns that keeps the viewer guessing. Despite the unexpected ending, In Bruges never disappoints. Surprisingly gory for how funny the film is at the beginning, In Bruges will remind the audience of Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels and Snatch. Even then, the final deaths occur by choice, showing even hit-men have ethics.

In Bruges, an impressive first feature-length film for McDonagh, shows that there are still fresh ways to tell stories about hit-men. The film is entertaining, thought-provoking, and features an open ending interesting enough to provoke a post-screening discussion. If nothing else, In Bruges may inspire you as you plan your next vacation.

"In Bruges"
Starring: Brendan Gleeson, Colin Farrel, and Ralph Fiennes
Plot: Two hit men, while on a semi vacation in Bruges, receive an unlikely assignment.
Extras:  Deleted Scenes, Gag reel, and making of featurette

Bottom Line: The years most entertaining film thus far, also happens to be the best. Writer-Director Martin McDonaugh's delivers a sharp, exceedingly dark comedy that somehow functions as a violent morality tale and small town character study. Farrel clearly has fun using his native irish accent, while Gleeson deserves award recognition for his turn as the aging hitman who seems to enjoy sight seeing more than killing. With this being McDonaugh's feature debut, one can't help but eagerly await his sophmore outing.  Extras: B-  Film: A

"Charlie Bartlett"
Starring: Robert Downey Jr., Hope Davis, and Anton Yelchin
Plot: Prep school drop out Charlie Bartlett causes a commotion at his new school when he acts as a surrogate psychiatrist to the various troubled students who populate the local public school system. 
Extras: Directors commentary, rest room confessional featurette, and a music Video

Bottom Line:  Anton Yelchin and Robert Downey Jr. impress in this John hughes esque brat pack picture that seems infused with the same psychiatric meds the title character prescribes to his classmates. The duo of charismatic performances elevate a coming of age teen comedy in desperate search of its own clique. Extras: B- Film: B-

"Definitely, Maybe"
Starring: Rachel Weisz and Ryan Reynolds
Plot: Reynolds plays a political consultant who in the midst of a divorce recounts to his younger daughter the stories of his romantic past.
Extras: Directors commentary, Making of doc, and deleted scenes.

Bottom Line: With cinematic wastes of space such as "P.S. I love You" and "27 Dresses" populating the battered romantic comedy genre, "Definitely, Maybe" is a welcome, albeit still slight, surprise. Reynolds posses undeniable charm and Kevin Kline promptly steals every scene given to him as a jaded professor. Extras: B+  Film: B-

Also on DVD this week: "10,000 B.C." and "Persepolis"

A product of the director of "Nutty Professor II" and the writers of "Failure to Launch," it's surprising that "Get Smart," the feature adaptation of Mel Brooks' zany 1960s comedy series, actually works. The fact that it does, however, is more a result of clever casting than anything else.

Popular funnyman Steve Carrell brings his talents to the role of Maxwell Smart, a self-confident agent for CONTROL. Smart is currently tasked with parsing through international chatter, and though he produces lengthy and ultra-detailed reports, he sometimes misses the point. For example, he announces at a meeting that the Russians are eating muffins, a carb-heavy food, and therefore must be stressed, but misses the connection between the baked goods and the nuclear factory housed in the bakery. Smart seems destined to stay behind a desk until a rival agency KAOS ransacks the CONTROL office and all of the agents' identities are compromised. Smart is partnered with the savvy and beautiful Agent 99 (Anne Hathaway), whose identity is unknown due to some recent plastic surgery, and sent into the field to uncover the truth behind the weapons trading and nuclear bomb production. 

For a spoof, Peter Segal's "Get Smart" favors action over comedy. There are few truly funny lines, but the ones that are there make the film worth the ticket price. The character of Smart here is a departure from that of the original series; this film's Smart is a little more aware of his surroundings. He's not completely on top of it, but he does seem to have a better handle on things than did his predecessor, whose clumsiness and unawareness made him all the more endearing. But with Carrell in the role, how could you deny Smart the chance to grow? Carrell's ability to both deliver dry and sarcastic comments and to pull off pure slapstick comedy recalls some of the zany humor from the original series but also gives the film a contemporary feel. Fans of "The 40 Year Old Virgin" will delight in the scene in which Smart battles himself with a miniature crossbow. Even the most intelligent of viewers will find themselves laughing at his facial expressions. 

Hathaway's Agent 99 appears cool and collected but shows range with an emotional side that hints at and eventually leads to a light romance between her and Smart. Dwayne Johnson (The Rock) plays Agent 23, the "it" guy of CONTROL. The hard-bodied actor plays well off of Carrell here; Johnson seems to enjoy the chance to goof off with such a great cast. Last but not least is Alan Arkin, who plays the Chief of CONTROL. "Get Smart" marks his second film with Carrell, and it certainly has a different tone than "Little Miss Sunshine." Arkin, still quite spunky for an aging actor, has some of the best lines of the film and proves that you don't have to be young to be a good agent. 

Some complaints may arise from "Get Smart"'s move away from the series' zaniness to more of an action-packed thriller, but if a film can break out of its genre and succeed, why shouldn't it make the effort? Some laughs fall flat and there are a few cheap attempts at humor (a paintball to the crotch and that sort of humor), and we do have to put up with David Koechner ("Anchorman," "Semi-Pro," "Drillbit Taylor," "Balls of Fury," and here playing Larabee), but overall, "Get Smart" manages to be one of the smartest spoofs of James Bond to hit the big screen. I'm just glad they let Steve Carrell fill Don Adams' shoe-phones. 

Director Walter Salles ("The Motorcycle Diaries) and his co-directer Daniela Thomas return to the streets of Brazil for their competition entry at Cannes, "Linha de Passe." In realist style, the story follows four brothers in modern San Paulo as they learn how to cope with poverty and daily life in the director's hometown. 

"Linha de Passe" (a soccer term) chronicles one summer in the lives of pregnant housemaid Cleuza (Sandra Corveloni) and her four sons. Dario (Vinicius De Oliveira) is a talented soccer player who wants to go pro, Dinho (José Geraldo Rodrigues) is a motorcycle courier on the dangerous highways of San Paulo with a baby by a previous girlfriend, Denis (Joao Baldasserini) is a born-again Christian looking for some sort of salvation, and young Reginaldo (Kaique de Jesus Santos) rides the city bus all day and night searching for his unknown father. 

With "Linha de Passe," Salles wanted to break away from the typical stories of drugs and crime in Brazil and instead focus on the kids who live there and manage to save themselves. Drugs and crime are not absent from the film, but the actions are shown as pieces of these boys' lives and part of reality in the outskirts of the large Brazilian city. 

Thus, Salles provides viewers with a wandering plot that does not possess much structure. This is an exercise in cinema du realité: since when does real life have a three-act structure? The final sequence shows all four brothers being tested; Salles intercuts between all of the stories, raising the tension and cementing our emotional connection to the boys. The ending is open and left up to interpretation, but that does not mean it is not satisfying. 

Salles uses newcomers to the screen and unknown actors here, allowing the performances to be as close to real as possible. These four boys maintain individuality even as the camera flits from one story to another, following the characters as they go through daily life confronting sex, work, drugs, crime, unknown fathers, and, most dramatic of all, soccer tryouts. This family has no father, but these boys show that their relationship can lead to the salvation they seek. 

One of the biggest running jokes among our group at the Cannes Film Festival was Venice festival regular Jia Zhangke's in-competition debut "24 City." 

A combination documentary and fiction film, "24 City" chronicles the closing of an aeronautic factory in rural China. Once again, I had been duped by the Cannes program, which made the film sound as if it was a fictional story of a small Chinese community. That I could dig. But this combination business creates a disjoint from the viewer and the story: if this is a documentary but some pieces aren't real, how can you understand what truly happened and how people were really affected? 

The story is told by talking heads in front of a stationary camera, and though many critics praised it as a simple but effective personal story, the only positive thing I can say about the film is that it provided me with the opportunity to sneak a much-needed nap. Resting my head against that carpeted column in the back row of the Lumiere Theater, I silently and unconsciously thanked Zhangke for creating a film so boring and quiet that I was able to catch up on days of missed rest. 

If I learned one thing from the Cannes Film Festival schedule and program, it was that the summaries of the films could rarely be trusted. When I received my shiny ticket for Paolo Sorrentino's "Il Divo," I prepared myself for an Italian mafia movie along the lines of "The Godfather." I was surprised, not unpleasantly, to discover only a few minutes into the film that "Il Divo" is in fact a witty, action-packed film that looks as though Quentin Tarantino got his hands on "Smokin' Aces."

It is the beginning of the 1990s, and Guilio Andreotti is ambling towards his seventh term as Prime Minister. He is a strange creature - a short man with floppy ears and a dry sense of humor. Over the years, he has been blamed for nearly everything that has happened in Italy since the Punic Wars. His nicknames include: The Divine Julius, The First Letter of the Alphabet, The Hunchback, The Fox, Moloch, The Salamander, The Black Pope, Eternity, The Man From The Underworld, and Beelzebub. After 47 years in office, nothing scares him and accusations roll over him without leaving a trace. But as this election approaches, Andreotti is implicated in a wide range of illegal activities, most involving the mafia. In "Il Divo," Sorrentino plunges into Andreotti's psyche with original wit and dry humor as the man of many nicknames prepares himself for the "Trial of the Big Mafia." 

"Il Divo" opens with several glossaries of almost laughable length and detail. When these appeared on the screen, I began to worry. My memorization skills are not what they used to be, and I've never been one for politics. However, the following title sequence blew all of my concerns out of the water as Cassius's rocking "Toop Toop" backed a montage of assassinations accompanied by mobile three-dimensional captions telling you the identity of the deceased. Not a native Italian, I did not recognize any of the names (which included Aldo Moro, Roberto Calvi, and Giovanni Falcone), but that didn't detract from the film's entertainment value. It was made instantly clear by the script's clever humor and the wildly mobile camera that "Il Divo" was going to be a fun ride. 

The fast editing style of "Il Divo" is expertly tempered by Sorrentino's handling of his main character. When we first meet Andreotti, he has his head down on his desk while his voice-over explains that he has trouble sleeping and suffers from terrible migraines. Many doctors have told him that he will not live long, but they are dead now. He raises his head, revealing a face full of acupuncture needles. The blank stare on his face will remain there throughout the film, and he maintains the same vocal cadence as he rattles of his list of accusations to journalists, tells his wife of his implications, and finally confesses his sins to the audience. 

With relatively limited dialogue, Servillo's performance is closer to that of a contemporary Buster Keaton. In one scene, he is walking with his hands clasped in front of him and his usual determination through his house. He suddenly stops; a fluffy white cat is in his path. The two have a stare-down worthy of an old Western. Andreotti claps his hands forcefully a few times, and the cat finally backs down. Andreotti charges ahead, continuing on his former path. The real Andreotti is less than pleased with Sorrentino's film; he has made his opinions clear for the public, claiming "Il Divo" highlights a lot of his personal flaws and gives him flaws he doesn't have, but the more likely explanation for his concern is that Sorrentino lays all of Andreotti's sins at his feet.

There is no doubt in my mind that "Il Divo" is intensely political, but its weight is lost on non-Italian audiences. The other members of my group who saw the film at the Festival all confessed to giving up on trying to keep track of who was who early on in the film and decided instead to just enjoy the style and the dryly funny character of Andreotti. The dozens of Italian names are meaningless, but audiences will still understand the assassinations, wave of suicides, and illegal acts linked to Andreotti's name, making the final shot, a title card explaining that Andreotti has been acquitted of all 26 charges, set to Trio's 1982 "Da Da Da" all the more memorable and somehow, perfect. 

The Belgian directorial team of brothers Jean-Pierre and Luc Dardenne are no strangers to Cannes. The two have taken home two prestigious Palme d'Or awards in the last six years, for "Rosetta" and "L'Enfant." This year, they presented audiences with "La Silence de Lorna (Lorna's Silence)," a moral tale concerning a young Albanian woman and her deal with Russian mobsters to gain Belgian citizenship. "La Silence de Lorna" is a well-paced drama that illustrates the guilt that is forced upon this woman by her powerlessness.

Lorna, an Albanian woman, is living in Belgium and married to junkie Claudy in order to become a citizen. After the Russian mafia carry out their plans for Claudy, Lorna will marry one of their comrades in order to make him a Belgian in turn. Lorna and her boyfriend Sokol plan to use the money to open up a snack shop. This all seems simple enough, until Claudy begs Lorna to help him stay clean and she begins to feel guilty about what the Russians have in store for him.

Lorna asks her handlers about getting a quickie divorce, which would be possible if she could prove that Claudy was an abusive husband, but the Russians are determined to stick with the original plan, even if they tell her otherwise. A sweet little love story between Lorna and the charming but helpless Claudy develops, only adding gravity to Lorna's later guilt. 

"La Silence de Lorna" marks the Dardenne brothers' first film not shot in their hometown of Seraing. The change of scenery to Liege allows for a more realistic vision of the world of immigrants struggling to stay alive by means that aren't always honest, or legal. A technically low-key film that hinges upon Lorna's inability to control her life, "La Silence de Lorna" strongly depends upon the performance by lead actress Dobroshi. With striking short black hair, Dobroshi rises to the challenge in her big screen debut and provides audiences with a hauntingly human portrayal of a trapped woman. 

The film moves slowly but never drags. The viewer learns information as Lorna does; as each piece is revealed, we must decide what the right thing to do is and if how we would react is different than how Lorna does. Her silence ultimately leads to her guilt and eventual madness, showing the Dardennes' ability to create intense drama with quiet pieces. "La Silence de Lorna" isn't a total downer; the film possesses a few moments of humor and idealized romance as Lorna and Claudy grow to like one another and then as Lorna tries to convince him to hit her to get the divorce. 

A large gap in time towards the end creates a jump from the film's former chronological structure to an unknown point in the future, leading to an ending that is certain to split audiences. As Lorna is further consumed by guilt, she begins to lose her mind, and this formerly strong and resolute character degrades into a fragile creature incapable of protecting herself. She escapes, but to what end? 

Taking its title from those famous simians who speak no evil, hear no evil, see no evil, Nuri B. Ceylan's "Three Monkeys" focuses on a family's reaction to tragedy by avoidance. The film, visually stunning in crisp HD, is a exercise in audience patience. With a bit of editing, this emotionally draining piece could be the perfect art house film. 

In the Turkish language "Three Monkeys," diegetic sound is more important than dialogue, just as reactions are more important than actions. The film opens with Servet (Ercan Kesal), an aging politician, falling asleep at the wheel. Instead of displaying the following collision, Ceylan cuts to the aftermath. This quiet and murky scene sets the tone for the rest of the film. 

Not wanting the accident on his record, Servet convinces his driver Eyup (Yavuz Bingol) to take the fall and serve time in prison. Servet promises to repay his friend for his troubles with a large sum of money upon his release. However, Eyup's sentence drags on and his wife Hacer (Itatice Aslan) grows impatient and asks Servet for an advance. The conditions to which Servet agrees are kept quiet from the audience until Hacer's and Eyup's teenage son Ismail (Ahmet Rifat Sungar) uncovers the truth about their more-than-professional relationship.

Upon Eyup's release from prison, Ceylan delivers several films' worth of past tragedies and current tensions, but he does not make understanding easy for the audience. A dead little boy proves that Hacer's indiscretion is not the first event to tear the family apart, but he disappears before the storyline is fully fleshed out. 

Political issues, class tensions, and family tragedies are hinted at but never expressly dealt with, focusing the film on its central three monkeys, er, characters. The amount of important information kept from the audience ensures that the viewer stays as lost as the characters. We never see the tragedies, and the difficulty in discerning exactly which event is the main tragedy that catalyzes this family's self-destruction, creates a barrier that holds the audience from identifying with these people. They are undeniably human, providing the yin to Arnaud Desplechin's yang in his Cannes entry "Un Conte De Noel," in which family members hold back nothing, but there is not enough character development or dialogue to allow the audience to understand motivations. 

"Three Monkeys" attempts to make up for this lack in character psychology and dialogue with detailed sounds and long stretches of silence. No ambient sound goes unnoticed; trains speeding by on nearby tracks and children playing become the soundtrack to the film, along with Hacer's darkly comic cellular phone ring tone, a bitter song about a woman falling in love and losing it. 

The film also succeeds as a triumph in cinematography. The murky hues and sepia tones give "Three Monkeys" a dark and off-putting feeling. Wide angle shots of picturesque scenery and I-can't-believe-those-are-real clouds reinforce the film's grave message but also distract from the depressing view of humanity and offer the most memorable moments of the film. The juxtaposition of tightly-framed close up shots on the characters' eyes or faces as they stare into space with despair, avoiding each other and ignoring each other's presence, with sweeping wide angle shots jars the viewer. Watching Hacer and Servet argue from far away gives the viewer that rush of voyeurism: we shouldn't be watching this private encounter, but we have been given access to it and it's impossible to turn our eyes away.

"Three Monkeys" is nothing if not thought-provoking. Definitely not among my favorite films at the Cannes Film Festival, "Three Monkeys" has managed to stay on my mind and under my skin. Some of the images are breathtaking, and without accompanying dialogue or music, I realized that I would much rather have seen the film as a series of still images in a gallery. At least this way, I could have walked through at my own pace, and I guarantee I would not have taken the film's 1 hour and 49 minute runtime to do so. Trimming the film by thirty minutes would likely result in a tighter and more commercially viable product. 

Overall, the film leaves us with the message the effects of avoidance and lack of communication. But, as we all know, pretending something didn't happen doesn't remove its existence. 

Last year, audiences were both charmed and horrified by Marjane Satrapi's animated autobiography "Persepolis." This year, director Ari Folman mesmerized viewers with his own account of Middle Eastern conflict with "Waltz With Bashir," his fourth film. A critical favorite at this year's Cannes Film Festival, the Israeli language "Waltz With Bashir" takes advantage of the flexibility of animation and the ability to explore memories and the subconscious through vivid imagery and surreal dream sequences. The only animated film in competition at Cannes this year, "Waltz With Bashir" stands out in visuals but not in its message.

One night in a bar, a friend of Ari's tells him about a recurring dream in which the friend is chased by 26 vicious dogs. These are the same dogs that Ari's friend shot during the first Lebanon War in order to keep them from waking up their owners and alerting them of the Israeli Army's presence. Ari then realizes that he cannot remember a single thing about his involvement in the conflict. Memory is a fickle thing, he is told; he may have suppressed these unpleasant memories. Determined to uncover the truth about his time in the Army and the events leading up to the 1982 massacres at the Sabra and Shatila refugee camps. As he delves deeper into his past and conducts interviews with former comrades, Ari's brain begins to conjure partial memories blended with dreams and surreal imaginings.

"Waltz With Bashir," the only animated film in competition at Cannes this year, is a combination of Flash, hand-drawn 2D animation and 3D rendering recalling the animation of "A Scanner Darkly" and "Waking Life" (Richard Linklater) and blends interviews with subjective memories of the Lebanon War, forcing the viewer to question whether what they are watching is actual footage that has been animated, a recreation of actual events, or a dreamlike memory that exists only in Folman's mind. The film possesses a more detailed and colorful visual style than last year's "Persepolis," giving it the feel of a graphic novel rather than a children's story and making it less instantly accessible than its predecessor. The most memorable image in the film is Ari's own recurring dream of swimming in the sea with two comrades before the massacres at the refugee camps. Bathed in golden yellow with strong black outlines, the scene fills the theater with a warm glow, and the audience is haunted as each man stands and walks to the shore. 

This structuring of memories alongside interviews leads to a disjointed film. This disjoint, though, is perhaps a tool Folman uses to shock the viewer; it is easy to get lost in the striking visuals presented by Folman and his animation team, but the interviews remind audiences that this is a documentary of war horrors and murder. If only he had found a more subtle way to present his anti-war sentiments. As Ari grows closer and closer to remembering the actual events of the massacres, the images become more realistic and less dreamlike. He ends the film with a punch to the stomach (or a beat over the head, depending on how you have taken the film's sentiments): a cut to documentary footage of the aftermath of the massacres. As if we haven't already realized that these horrible events actually happened, Folman feels the need to remind us one final time, and this time, we'd better not forget it. 

Unfortunately, the broken memories of being young and a member of the Israeli Army are often lost amidst the more visually stimulating dream sequences, but comments made by Folman's interviewees do manage to bring to the film several different viewpoints of the conflict. A sharp soundtrack mixing classical pieces with contemporary tracks like a cover of CAKE's "I Bombed Korea Today" provides stark contrasts to the images of death and destruction. The music, another character in the film, forces a feeling of discomfort onto the audience: should we tap our feet and sing along or shrink in horror? 

In Folman's defense, finding a new way to make an anti-war film is a difficult task in contemporary cinema. His decision to tell a personal account in the medium of animation is a step towards individuality and uniqueness, but his final switch over to actual footage plants "Waltz With Bashir" in the tired and over-trodden genre of anti-war films.