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REVIEW: Mirror Mirror Dazzles with Color, Wit and Just the Right Amount of Wickedness

There’s plenty of spectacle in movies these days; it’s delight that’s in short supply, and Tarsem Singh’s Mirror Mirror offers plenty of it, shimmering like a school of minnows in a reflective pond. The picture is gorgeous to look at: There are fairytale castles topped with minarets of fluted gold, interior marble archways that look as if they might have been carved by Alfonse Mucha, ball gowns that take their inspiration from the rock-star effrontery of peacock feathers. But the story is a delight, too, a modernized -- but not too modernized -- retelling of the Brothers’ Grimm Snow White peopled with actors who polish the material to a bright glow rather than a high gloss. Mirror Mirror has a great deal of energy and wit and color, so much that it sometimes threatens to go right over the top. Somehow, though, it always stops short of being just too much -- it’s never too taken by its own reflection.
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REVIEW: Wrath of the Titans Delivers the Gods, If Not the Goods

The 10 years that we are told at the beginning of Wrath of the Titans have passed since Perseus (Sam Worthington) defeated the Kraken may not seem like long enough, especially when you consider that it’s only been two since the Clash of the Titans remake was released, Kraken-like, on an unsuspecting populace. It was sufficient time, anyway, for Worthington to grow out his hair, so that in Wrath of the Titans he sports a soft cap of curls to go with his peaceful life among the humans. He’s lost a wife but gained a son and another pretext to propel a franchise whose fate was sealed once Avatar’s numbers started rolling in. That it was going to happen was certain; how it happened was of secondary concern.
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REVIEW: Hockey Comedy Goon Doesn't Sermonize About Violence, And That's a Good Thing

Michael Dowse’s hockey comedy Goon is crude, violent and deeply enjoyable. It also offers the chance to see Liev Schreiber — a guy who’s played Hamlet, ferchrissakes — living it up as a bloodthirsty minor-league thug in the kind of ’70s eight-track-guy mustache that only hockey players, bless their hearts, still try to get away with. That, to me, is catnip in the form of a hockey puck.
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REVIEW: Salty-Sweet Turn Me On, Dammit! Just Gets the Hormone-Addled Teenage-Girl Thing

The way salty-sweet comedy Turn Me On, Dammit! treats the hormone-addled turmoil of its 15-year-old heroine Alma (Helene Bergsholm) feels something close to revolutionary. I don't want to overburden this mild-mannered 76-minute Norwegian debut, but it's true.
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REVIEW: Bully 'Raises Awareness' About Bullying — But Is That Enough?

The schoolyard bully may be a stock character, a cliché, but in the world of Lee Hirsch’s earnest documentary Bully, he’s very real: The picture tells the stories of several kids — all of them from fairly rural parts of the United States — who suffer daily at the hands of their classmates, fielding everything from hurtful taunts to physical assault.
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REVIEW: Not-So-Spooky Intruders Preys On, and Over-Psychoanalyzes, Childhood Fears

A movie about childhood nightmares that plays too much like an actual, incoherent nightmare to make a good movie, Intruders is a psychodrama divided against itself. Little kids don’t need a reason to get worked up about what’s in their closet, or to be told to worry. When it comes to being scared their imaginations are half cocked at all times, more than prepared to fill every blank with the bogeyman. Although Intruders, much like last year’s Insidious, is framed as a sins-of-the-father spook-fest, it assumes too little of its audience — specifically that we too need only contemplate a darkened wardrobe or the outline of a giant, grabby dude to want to jump out of our skin.
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REVIEW: Abel Ferrara's 4:44 Last Day on Earth — Apocalyptic Howler or Love Letter to NYC?

If you happen to live in a neighborhood with no Jehovah’s Witness ladies around to remind you that we’re living in the last days, wackadoodle director Abel Ferrara’s latest, 4:44 Last Day on Earth, is here to drive that truth home — or at least make you think about it just a little bit. Willem Dafoe plays an actor, Cisco, facing what he, and everybody else, knows is the Earth’s last day, thanks to an ozone layer that dissolved faster than anyone expected. He spends that last day writing in his journal, watching video footage of some fake-inspirational guru-dude, reaching out to his daughter and assorted pals via Skype and, most importantly, making sweet, crazy, soft-core love to his dishy, much-younger girlfriend, painter Skye (Shanyn Leigh), in the couple’s artsy, faux-ramshackle Manhattan loft. What a way to go!
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REVIEW: Rachel Weisz Shines Through the Contemplative Dankness of The Deep Blue Sea

There are so few filmmakers willing to tackle the romantic melodrama these days that Terence Davies’s The Deep Blue Sea is welcome just for its sheer novelty. An adaptation of Terence Rattigan’s 1952 play, the picture opens with an attempted suicide and ends with an uneasy kind of redemption. It’s a love story with a great deal of furious, elegant handwriting packed between the lines, an exploration of immutable class distinctions and emotional and sexual repression in postwar England. And Rachel Weisz, as a woman who risks everything for the love of the wrong man, carries the mood and subtext of the material safely tucked in her dressing-gown pocket – she’s vulnerable and self-motivated in all the right measures.
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REVIEW: Violence is Golden (and a Little Exhausting) in The Raid: Redemption

Despite the late addition of "Redemption" to the title of The Raid, there's little to no atonement to be had in this stripped-down action movie. These characters are not here to have some kind of emotional journey, they're here to kick ass. And so much ass is kicked over The Raid's 100 minutes that viewers may feel a little bruised themselves upon exiting, for the most part in a good way -- this is a film that serves as a remind of just how wonderfully cinematic violence can be.
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REVIEW: Stephen Dorff Almost Gets a Break in Brake

If Stephen Dorff’s career never soared as high as he might have liked, the fact that it’s getting more interesting all the time must be some consolation. For someone who might not be considered a big movie star, Dorff has the distinct movie-star habit of seeming to play himself, even when he’s playing a big movie star. In Sofia Coppola’s Somewhere and now in Brake, he appears to be the same flannel- and faded jeans-clad heartbreaker from the Aerosmith years. Dorff had the persona in place from the start; it’s the pictures that got small.
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REVIEW: Jennifer Lawrence Hits Her Mark in Surprisingly Unflashy Hunger Games

Movie events have become deadly little things, highly mechanized gadgets thrown by studio marketing departments into an audience’s midst in advance; then we just stand around and wait for them to explode. The Hunger Games, adapted from the first of Suzanne Collins’ hugely successful trio of young adult novels, was decreed an event long before it became anything close to a movie: More than a year ago its studio, Lionsgate, launched a not-so-stealthy advertising campaign that made extensive use of social media to coax potential fans into convincing one another that they had to see this movie. The marketing was so nervily persuasive that you had to wonder: How could any movie – especially one that, as it turns out, is largely and surprisingly naturalistic, as opposed to the usual toppling tower of special effects – possibly hope to measure up?
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REVIEW: Jeff, Who Lives at Home Finds Moments of Grace Amid Forced Cosmic Coincidences

You have to admire the chutzpah, if not necessarily the filmmaking skills, of Jay and Mark Duplass, the duo behind the stay-at-home-son comedy-drama Jeff, Who Lives at Home. With their 2005 debut, The Puffy Chair, the Duplass brothers took an uninteresting story fleshed out with lackadaisical dialogue and, using barely rudimentary camera skills, fashioned a noodly tale about love, life and relationships. It’s easier, maybe, to admire the Duplasses' boldness more than the actual product, but you have to say this much for them: They sure do keep moving.
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REVIEW: Madre de Dios! Will Ferrell and Co. Make Casa de Mi Padre One Long, Perfunctory Inside Joke

For a movie with a comedic premise this simple – essentially: can you believe we made a movie with a premise this simple? – Casa de Mi Padre can feel pretty exhausting. Its comic arsenal is laid bare by the end of the credits sequence: There is Will Ferrell playing a Mexican ranchero and speaking Spanish; Diego Luna and Gael García Bernal as narco peacocks; telenovela melodrama played absurdly straight; self-conscious B-budget goofing; and plenty of guns and flames for ambiance. Are you not entertained?
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REVIEW: Tony Kaye's Detachment a Mesmerizing Misfire

Detachment, the first feature from American History X director Tony Kaye to see theaters since his stunning 2006 documentary Lake of Fire, is a film about a high school substitute teacher that often comes across like the creation of a precocious student. I don't mean that to be a damning critique, though Detachment is a mesmerizing misfire -- it's just that it has the uncomplicated earnestness and hyperbolic melodrama of teenage poetry.
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REVIEW: Nicolas Cage Too Subdued to Juice Up Vigilante Thriller Seeking Justice

In Seeking Justice, a man whose wife is assaulted and raped makes a deal with a mysterious vigilante organization that exacts revenge on his behalf but demands from him a favor to be named later. If you're thinking that sounds like something that will turn out to be a bargain he regrets, you are correct!
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