Richard Linklater has always been known for his wry sense of humor when it comes to the finished product of his scripts, but not until Bernie, based on the true events of Bernie Tiede (Jack Black), has he so eloquently been able to infuse one of his films with such a heightened sense of the macabre. It also gave him the chance to explore another of his favorite genres, non-fiction (as evidenced by his much less successfully adapted version of Fast Food Nation). Because, as we all know, the truth is always stranger than fiction.

Promotional poster for Bernie

Linklater, who directed and co-wrote the screenplay with Skip Hollandsworth, re-created the story from Hollandsworth’s 1996 article in Texas Monthly about a local Assistant Funeral Director in Carthage, Texas, Bernie Tiede, who had been possessed to shoot the town’s only millionaire, Marjorie Nugent (Shirley MacLaine), after enduring her incessant belittlement and controlling nature for months on end. The two did not become acquainted until Bernie officiated her husband’s funeral and subsequently began visiting her home to check up on her–in spite of her icy demeanor toward him in the beginning.

There were many whisperings about Bernie's "entertainment" of a woman Marjorie's age.

Over time, however, Marjorie’s heart warmed to the sweet and unassuming nature of Bernie and she let him into her insulated world–neuroses and finances included. Together, they would take lavish trips and cruises to exotic locales, causing many members of the Carthage population to speculate on what the parameters of their relationship were, especially since a large majority believed that Bernie was probably gay (Tiede was tied to homosexual relations with a number of married men in real life), or what one mockumentary interviewee dubbed “light in the loafers.”

Bernie: A real people person.

On the subject of the mockumentary style, there are often times when Bernie seems to combine elements of Drowning Mona and Drop Dead Gorgeous in terms of its delightfully dark and unapologetically sinister humor. While this breed of comedy has received mixed reactions from the people in Carthage who watched the events unfold as they occurred, there can be no denying that Linklater has a talent for turning two otherwise unsympathetic characters into individuals with equal merit in this tale of unexpected murder.

Was Marjorie asking for it? Maybe just a little.

As Bernie surrenders more and more of his everyday routine to the demands of Marjorie, he comes to resent her at a level that he tries to suppress, ultimately resulting in his impromptu decision to shoot her four times in the back just to gain a few moments of solace without her condemnation. As Bernie quickly realizes, however, those few moments are Marjorie’s eternity. Uncertain of what to do, Bernie opts to put her body in the freezer in the garage and act as though she has fallen ill when anyone questions him about her whereabouts. Granted, the only person who seems interested in where she is happens to be her stockbroker. Once the interest of Marjorie’s estranged family is piqued, it is the beginning of the end for Bernie, who must face the wrath of District Attorney Danny Buck Davidson’s (Matthew McConaughey) investigation.

A generous man turned murderer

The third act of the film focuses on Bernie’s trial and conviction in a similar mockumentary style, but lacks the same brand of comedic genius without the continuous intercutting of faux interviews with townspeople (which counts for about 85% of Bernie‘s enjoyability) . Linklater himself commented on the strengths and weaknesses of the script by noting, “The gossip element almost kept the film from being made, because it reads boring… But they’ll be funny characters. I could just imagine the accents.” Indeed, very few filmmakers except for Linklater would have the bravery to make this film. And so Behind the Hype thanks you for your cojones, Mr. Linklater.

The arduousness of planning a wedding is undeniably time-consuming, but the amount of time that goes into unmaking the plans is the source of Tom Solomon (Jason Segel) and Violet Barnes’ (Emily Blunt) relationship discord. Directed by Nicholas Stoller (who previously worked with Segel on The Muppets), The Five Year Engagement takes us on a tour of two vastly different places (San Francisco and Ann Arbor) and, likewise, two vastly different people trying to succeed in the delicate art of compromise.

Happy beginnings

Co-written by Stoller and Segel, the majority of The Five Year Engagement balances physical and verbal comedy. Unfortunately, there are pockets of time when both mediums fall flat/feel too awkward to sit through. Where Stoller and Segel most strongly flourish in their crafting of the narrative is in the constant flashback to the moment Tom and Violet first met: At a New Year’s Eve party with the theme “Create Your Own Super Hero.” Tom created Super Bunny, Violet decided Princess Diana counted as a superhero and went with that (I actually really think she should be cast in a Princess Di biopic as a result of this costume). The flashback is told in increments, slowly revealing to the audience just how magical of an encounter it was (Van Morrison song included).

Violet's Princess Di costume is spot-on when she first meets Tom.

Appropriately, the film opens with Tom fumbling to get through his proposal with the help of his best friend, Alex (Chris Pratt), who secures the roof of the restaurant they work at for Tom to ask the question. When their families learn of the engagement, they are, for the most part, thrilled. Even Violet’s sister, Suzie (Alison Brie, who you know better as Trudy on Mad Men), a woman who could never imagine getting married, is delighted for them. At their engagement party, the worlds of uptight Britishism and open-minded Americanism collide in the best possible ways, including Alex somehow convincing Suzie to sleep with him.

Alex (Chris Pratt) turns on the charm to get Suzie's (Alison Brie) attention.

In the meantime, Violet has been waiting to hear from Berkeley about her acceptance into the post-doctorate psych program. When she finally receives their response, it is a rejection. Not wanting to break the news to Tom yet, she tells Suzie instead, who then blurts out that she is pregnant with Alex’s child. This then segues into Alex and Suzie’s wedding, baffling both Tom and Violet, who can’t believe that they’ve been beaten in the race to marriage by their best friend and sister, respectively.

When things were still romantic.

Because Violet was accepted to the psych program at the University of Michigan, Tom graciously agrees to quit his high-paying sous-chef job (even after his eccentric boss offers him the position as head chef at her new restaurant, Clam Bar) and move there with her for the two years it will take for her to complete the coursework. While Violet instantly takes a liking to her fellow students, Doug (Kevin Hart), Vanetha (Mindy Kaling, who I always expect to talk with a thick Mumbai accent), and Ming (Randall Park), and her professor, Winton Childs (Rhys Ifans, who I’ll always see as Spike from Notting Hill), Tom struggles just to get a job at a Jewish deli after being laughed at by several other restaurant owners for voluntarily moving to Michigan from San Francisco.

Becoming at one with the Michigan lifestyle.

As time wears on, the dissonance between Tom and Violet becomes increasingly palpable, with Tom turning to hunting and knitting as his sole means of entertainment. Eventually, both Tom and Violet end up cheating on each other (though Tom does so in a much more full-fledged way). It is at this point that they are both forced to recognize that the career goals they have for themselves are too divergent to ignore any longer. Of course, Tom has to lose a toe to frost bite in the process of getting to this conclusion.

Over it.

And so, Tom returns to San Francisco, opens up a popular taco truck (Californians are obsessed with that shit), and starts dating a much younger girl he had previously met at the restaurant where he was a sous-chef. Violet has also gotten involved with Winton and has been offered an assistant teaching position at the university (an offer she later learns was merely the result of Winton’s nepotism). Even so, the more they try to move on from one another, the more they discover that they can’t. Thus, when Violet’s final grandparent dies (a running joke throughout the movie is, “At least no one died,” after which the scene cuts to a grandparent’s funeral), Tom seizes the opportunity to fly to London and tell her how he feels.

After a passionate reunion beneath the Wham! posters of Violet’s childhood bedroom, Tom suggests that she comes back to San Francisco with him during the time she has off from work. Violet gladly agrees, knowing full well that all of their problems will still be the same. When her vacation is over and Tom is driving her to the airport in his Taco-mergency truck (a converted ambulance), she proposes to him. Tom’s response is to pull their old engagement ring out of his pocket and show that he was going to re-propose to her.

Dial 9-1-Yum for a Taco-mergency.

With this, Violet instructs Tom to drive to the park, where they proceed to run up the hill making snap decisions about music for the ceremony (string quartet or New Orleans brass band), tuxedos (vintage or traditional), and officiators (Jewish, Christian, extreme Christian, or Justice of the Peace). In the end, it is optimistically romantic to believe that Tom and Violet’s issues will dissolve because of how much they love one another. In reality, after another five years, who knows if they would be able to endure one another? Then again, sometimes you just have to say “fuck it” and go with what that infernal organ, the heart, tells you to do.

Diane Keaton in a dog movie may sound, on the surface, as though the actress is clinging to grab on to a role of any kind at this juncture in her career, but Lawrence Kasdan’s (who also directed Kevin Kline in The Big Chill, Grand Canyon, and French Kiss) Darling Companion is proof that Keaton can turn any film that would otherwise be deemed completely bathetic into something semi-watchable. In the case of Darling Companion, I should emphasize the word semi-watchable.

Promotional poster for Darling Companion

As an overt sufferer of empty nest syndrome, Beth Winter (Keaton) loathes having to watch her daughter, Ellie (Lindsay Sloane), and grandson depart from Beth’s Colorado home to return to New York. Although she is escorted to the airport by her other daughter, Grace (Elisabeth Moss, in an unusual departure from her role as Peggy on Mad Men), she cannot help but get emotionally overwrought as they get back into the car together. It is at that moment that Beth’s husband, Joseph (Kevin Kline), calls to check up on her. Not wanting to reveal to Joseph that she is crying, Beth tells Grace to make up an excuse for her. This is the first indication that Joseph is uncomfortable with emotion, and that Beth often stifles hers in order to maintain peace between the two of them.

Kevin Kline as Dr. Joseph Winter, Beth's apathetic husband.

On the way home from the airport, Beth lets Grace drive home, allowing her to take notice of a stray dog on the side of the freeway. She immediately insists on Grace turning around to get back to it. When they finally reach the dog, it is clear from the start that Beth shares a bond with him. Knowing that Joseph would never approve of taking an animal in, however, she tries to call both the police and animal control to take care of the situation. The response she gets from both organizations leads her to believe that she should take him to the veterinarian herself.

Finding Freeway

Once the newly named Freeway is checked out by the vet, Sam (Jay Ali), he informs Grace and Beth that a dog Freeway’s age is unlikely to be adopted. This, of course, prompts Beth to bring Freeway home with her–though she still pretends like she might try to find another family to care for him. In the meantime, Sam has developed an overt interest in Grace under the vaguely false pretense of wanting to check up on Freeway.

Love at first scent.

It is at this point in the film that a somewhat abrupt segue is made to a title card that informs us that a year has passed and we are now at Grace and Sam’s wedding in the Rocky Mountains, where Beth and Joseph have a vacation home. Carmen (Ayelet Zurer), the caretaker of the cabin, oversees most of the details of the wedding, instantly taking a shine to Joseph’s dateless nephew, Bryan (Mark Duplass, who should really stick to being in his own movies).

Dianne Wiest plays Penny, Bryan's (Duplass) mother.

Their rapport is quickly established, in spite of Bryan already having a girlfriend. His protectiveness of his mother, Penny (Dianne Wiest, in a role that seems a bit underwhelming for her acting abilities), also shines through after he meets her boyfriend, Russell (Richard Jenkins), whose harebrained scheme about opening a British pub in Omaha only serves to elevate everyone’s skepticism about him.

Once the wedding is over, the main plot of the story finally begins, which is Joseph losing Freeway while taking him for a walk in the woods. His distraction from Freeway stems from his chronic selfishness when it comes to only paying attention to his job. This merely exacerbates Beth’s belief that their marriage has been flawed for far too long. On the plus side, the prolonged search for Freeway enables them to work through their issues with one another in unexpected ways (e.g. Beth having to pop Joseph’s shoulder back into its socket after he dislocates it on a foiled mission to find Freeway). Ultimately though, the cheese factor of Darling Companion reaches a threshold that not even Shirley Temple would be able to handle. But then, Lawrence Kasdan movies are what they are.

Just when you thought the “awkward” genre had altogether vanished after the trail of feel-good uncomfortableness left by (500) Days of Summer, Juno, Garden State, et. al., Whit Stillman has brought it back in spades with Damsels in Distress. Known for his stark and satirically protracted storylines (as with The Last Days of Disco and Metropolitan), Stillman centers his plot around an unusual group of girls focused on “youth outreach” at the college campus they attend. At times, it is difficult to discern what the film is actually supposed to be about, but, if nothing else, you’ve at least got Aubry Plaza as “Depressed Debbie” (I guess anyone named Debbie always has to be a downer) prattling on about the definition of being clinically depressed, not to mention a cameo from Arrested Development‘s Alia Shawkat as an angered student named Madge.

Preventing (or causing) suicide, Violet (Gerwig) runs the Suicide Prevention Center at her college.

A fundamental rule of watching a Stillman movie is surrendering to the notion of an alternate, politer universe. In the one inhabited by Violet Wister (Greta Gerwig) and her posse of obedient acolytes, Rose (Megalyn Echikunwoke) and Heather (Carrie MacLemore), the objectives are simple: 1) Date less attractive, less intelligent people, 2) Start a new dance craze, and 3) Effectively run the Suicide Prevention Center. As for the first tenet of Violet’s group, well, Violet sums it up best when she states, “Do you know what’s the major problem in contemporary social life? The tendency to always seek someone cooler than yourself.”

Perhaps this belief of Violet’s is why she chooses to take a new transfer student by the name of Lily (Analeigh Tipton, who you recognize from America’s Next Top Model and Crazy, Stupid, Love) under her wing. Slightly gawky and less polished than one would expect to fit into Violet’s crew, Lily is immediately fascinated by Violet’s strange world of impossible rules and aspirations. While others, like Lily’s friend Xavier (Hugo Becker, whose accent is equally as arduous to understand as it is on Gossip Girl), view Violet as a pretentious bitch, Lily finds something admirable about her quest to fulfill her dreams not just for the campus, but for herself as well. In this regard, there is something very Rushmore-esque about the film.

Lily (far right) enters the fold in no time.

At the first party Lily attends with Violet, Rose, and Heather, Violet explains that her boyfriend, Frank (Ryan Metcalf), is neither exceptionally attractive nor intelligent, but that she feels that it’s her job to “take a guy who hasn’t realized his full potential–or doesn’t have much–and then help him realize it… or find more.” Upon arriving at the party, Violet takes up with Frank on the dance floor, shouting–in a completely non-ironic way–”I love a golden oldie!” about 90s dance hit “Another Night” by Real McCoy.

Among Violet's obsessions is scent, hence her elation over discovering the best-smelling soap ever at a discount motel (Motel 4).

As Lily grows closer to Violet, she also grows closer to Xavier, much to the dismay of his girlfriend, Alice (Meredith Hagner). After Xavier blatantly expresses jealousy over Lily’s current suitor, Charlie (Adam Brody, whose real name turns out to be Fred when we discover he lies about his identity to mask the fact that he has been attending Seven Oaks University for eight years), Alice ends the relationship–leaving the, ahem, back door wide open for Xavier to pursue Lily. In the meantime, Frank has sent Violet into what she refers to as a “tailspin” (as opposed to simply depression) after cheating on her with one of the girls she was helping at the Suicide Prevention Center.

Aubrey Plaza as Depressed Debbie criticizes Violet for calling her depression a tailspin.

As the plot progresses to the end of the second act, everything seems to stall as relationships turn incestuous and then revert back to how they were–followed by the random insertion of a musical number at the conclusion. But hey, they had to segue into the Sambola!, Violet’s dance craze, somehow. So I suppose that if you feel you haven’t taken away anything from Damsels in Distress, you can’t deny that it has improved your ballroom skills.

Audrey Tautou’s three year break from her mainstream outing as Coco Chanel in Coco Avant Chanel has been almost torturous, for there is no modern actress–French or otherwise–with as much charisma and natural beauty. It never seems to matter what role she is inhabiting as she can make any character seem interesting. In co-directors Stéphane Foenkinos and David Foenkinos’ Delicacy (based on David Foenkinos’ novel of the same name), Tautou is showcased at her best: As a vulnerable, uncertain widow unsure if she can trust that true love is possible for a second time in her life.

Promotional poster for Delicacy

Nathalie Kerr (Tautou) has had the rare privilege of finding the love of her life in François (Pio Marmaï), a man who shares her every passion and desire. As the film opens with a long shot of Nathalie serenely walking down a cobble-stoned road to make her way to a cafe, the self-possessed pacing of the film is established. When she finally arrives at the cafe, we see her walk past François, who we assume Nathalie has not met yet. When she sits down, we hear François run through all of the possible drinks she could order in his mind. He promises himself that if she orders an apricot juice, he will talk to her. Of course, this is the exact beverage she chooses. Later, when Nathalie is leaving the cafe, François follows her out and grabs her by the arm to kiss her. It is then that we realize they are celebrating the anniversary of the day they met each other.

The bliss of being in love is shared with Nathalie and François' (Pio Marmaï) parents.

With their relationship at its strongest, François proposes to Nathalie, using his key ring to slip on her finger as an engagement ring. Once they are married, Nathalie gets a job at a firm specializing in Swedish products, largely, it would appear, because of the Director of Operations’, Charles (Bruno Todeschini), attraction to her. Nathalie is able to ignore this glaring fact until François is hit by a car while going for a run and Charles is allowed the opportunity to tactlessly make his move on the now grieving widow.

Nathalie at work. Clearly fond of suffering.

As Nathalie deals with a new life that excludes the person who made it worth living, she is forced to bluntly tell Charles that she may never be capable of being with someone again, but if she was, it definitely would not be with him. Reluctantly, Charles accepts her feelings, still furthering her advancement within the company by promoting her and putting her in charge of an important project that requires her to oversee a group of both Swedish and French employees. One of the Swedes, Markus Lundell (François Damiens), is especially shy and cautious around Nathalie. So it comes as a huge shock to him when, one day–out of nowhere–Nathalie rises from the chair in her office and kisses him. For Markus, it is a kiss of death, causing him to become completely and utterly consumed with the thought of her.

In the wake of her husband's death, Nathalie permits herself a rare moment of release.

When Nathalie acts as though nothing has happened between them, Markus confronts her about it. She apologizes and explains that she was daydreaming when he walked in that day, and wasn’t conscious of her actions at the time. Not willing to just let the incident pass, Markus asks Nathalie to let him take her to dinner. He promises that if she still wants to forget about the kiss after their date, then he will never mention it again. To Markus’ delight, Nathalie agrees. Just as surprised by the date as Markus, Nathalie finds that she is actually enjoying herself at dinner. She even shares personal details of her past that she never would have considered sharing with anyone else (e.g. her obsession with Pez when she lived in the United States as a child).

Both Nathalie and Markus are caught off guard by their attraction to one another.

In spite of their undeniable compatibility, Nathalie is not one for rushing into something just because it is the first time in three years that she has felt any kind of emotion for a man other than François. Mirroring the process of bereavement itself, Delicacy can feel drawn out at times, but, ultimately, every plot point has a purpose: To make Nathalie’s ability to move on seem more authentic.

It is essentially built into the title that Lasse Hallström’s Salmon Fishing in the Yemen is guaranteed to be boring as all get out, but with the presence of Emily Blunt and Ewan McGregor, it is easy to fall into the trap of vesting more interest in this film than there should be. Although Hallström has directed his fair share of romantically simpering movies (e.g. Dear John, Casanova, and Something to Talk About), there is only so much that can be done to make Simon Beaufoy’s (of Slumdog Millionaire fame) adapted screenplay come across as engaging.

Harriet Chetwode-Talbot (Blunt) and Alfred "Fred" Jones find love in a hopeless place.

Delving right into the heart of the issue, Salmon Fishing in the Yemen‘s chief goal is to address the nature of Anglo-Middle Eastern relations, which are in a particularly grim state. As such, the head of the British government’s PR department, Patricia Maxwell (Kristin Scott Thomas), fishes (yes, an overt pun) for any story that exhibits a positive British presence in the Middle East. Obviously, such a feat narrows the scope of projects from which Patricia can select to help publicize. Luckily, a wealthy sheik (the only kind of sheik really) named (naturally) Muhammed (Amr Waked) has poured vast funds toward the initiative of creating a safe haven for salmon fishing…in the Yemen. The funds in question are managed by a firm where Harriet Chetwode-Talbot (a last name that gets repeated to a point that makes you want to stab yourself with a fishing rod) works.

Strategizing the best approach for getting salmon to thrive in Yemeni waters.

Harriet’s devotion to the project leads her to contact the most authoritative source in the fisheries department, Fred Jones. Like most people who are obsessed with a single topic and/or entity, Fred has Asperger’s syndrome, a fact that Harriet throws in his face when he goads her to come to work in the wake of discovering that her recently acquired boyfriend, Robert (Tom Mison), has been declared missing in action after being called to Afghanistan.

For a moment, Harriet believes Fred’s intent in coming to her apartment is to chastise her for not responding to his work-related phone calls, but when she determines that he has actually stopped by just to check up on her and make sure she has eaten, her perception of him changes entirely. From this point forward, their relationship turns into the deepest possible friendship–one that Fred, who is basically estranged from his wife, Ashley (Catherine Steadman), interprets as more than what it truly is.

Discussing the impossibilities of a salmon habitat in the Yemen.

In the meantime, Fred develops a bond with the shah after saving his life from a terrorist (how fucking typical). As the two begin to understand one another more and more, Fred becomes increasingly sympathetic and attached to the project, whereas before, he never dreamed that salmon fishing could be a reality in a climate with such inhospitable water temperatures. As the search for ten thousand salmon to fill the Yemeni body of water begins, Patricia is forced to deal with the overzealous British salmon fishing population, who will not stand for their salmon being poached out of British waters. The solution, she grasps, is in enlisting the farm-raised salmon generally reserved for selling in grocery stores (you know, Tesco and such). The only catch (yeah, another pun) is, these salmon are not conditioned to swim upstream.

Another novel better off not being adapted.

Around the time that this hare-brained scheme is presented is when Salmon Fishing in the Yemen starts to transform into something truly designed for the over 80s set in its overly bromidic tone. Fred, who insists on believing nothing beyond the scientific, yields to admitting that faith is the key to success in this otherwise inconceivable goal. Not to mention the key to success in admitting his feelings for “Ms. Chetwode-Talbot.” Unfortunately for him, her boyfriend is alive and well, just in time to perform publicity damage control after the salmon fishing endeavor is sabotaged by a handful of local militants. It is now Harriet’s difficult decision to choose between love and obligation. Guess which one she chooses?

Hip hop/pop hybrid Nicki Minaj’s much awaited sophomore album, Pink Friday: Roman Reloaded, may have many moments of musical glory, but the songs in between are likely to leave you feeling like you’ve just glimpsed into Judy Garland’s mind after a handful of Seconal. Minaj’s prestige and elevation to fame after the ascendancy of the first Pink Friday may have gone to her head just a bit. Otherwise, I doubt the majority of Roman Reloaded would be characterized by shrieks and unintelligible yelling. But then, I suppose only Roman can be blamed for that.

Back for more.

With “Roman Holiday,” an opener that will make you feel like you’re in a demented version of the Audrey Hepburn movie of the same name, Minaj reprises her role as Roman’s mother, Martha Zolanski, urging, “Take your medication Roman, take a short vacation Roman. You’ll be okay.” The most horrifying clincher is when Minaj digresses into a sinister version of “Come All Ye Faithful.” Then there is, hands down, the worst track on the album, “Come On A Cone,” in which Minaj tells us all about a “dick in your face.”

Nicki Minaj, you know, levitating at the 2012 Grammy Awards.

Thankfully, the third song, “I Am Your Leader” featuring Cam’ron and Rick Ross, begins to steer the album in a more bearable direction. It may actually be Cam’ron’s best musical effort since “Hey Ma.” As Minaj chants, “I am your leader,” you quickly start to believe it’s true. She then forces you to realize, “I’m a brand bitch, I’m a brand.” At least she owns up to that fact. “Beez in the Trap” featuring 2 Chainz follows, faintly smacking of Fergie as Minaj raps, “Bitches say shit and they ain’t say nothin,” which sounds an awful lot like, “Fergalicious definition: make them boys go loco.”

“HOV Lane” opens with a futuristic beat and segues into one of Minaj as Roman’s more harder-edged raps as she asserts, “I’m in my own lane, you ain’t in my categor. You like a RAV-4, I’m like the Inventador” (yes, that’s a car name she made up). The other noticeable track with “hit appeal” is the title track featuring Lil’ Wayne, “Roman Reloaded.” With an aggravated backbeat and an addictive chorus (“Bang, my shit bang, it bang bang”), this is the most ear-catching song next to “Stupid Hoe.” Minaj even references her controversial Grammy performance, questioning,  ”Is it me or did I put these rap bitches on the map again?/You mad ’cause I’m at the Grammys with the Vatican.”

Nicki Minaj's most memorable collaboration on Pink Friday: Roman Reloaded is with Lil' Wayne.

Another remarkable collaboration comes in the form of “Champion” featuring Nas, Drake (no stranger to the Minaj fold), and Young Jeezy. The emphasis of the track is contingent upon the contention: “Came back to Queens to head up a new state.” As someone who proudly recognizes where she is from (Jamaica! Queens, that is), Minaj also comprehends her responsibility to make it a better place now that she has the means and resources to do so (“This is for the hood, this is for the kids”). Chris Brown makes a cameo on the subsequent upbeat anthem, “Right By My Side.” Ironically, Minaj delivers her most Rihanna-like tone as she sings, “I’m pourin’ my heart out.”

Rick Ross is just one of numerous guest vocalists on Roman Reloaded.

“Sex in the Lounge” featuring (yet again) Lil’ Wayne and Bobby V. is perhaps an homage to Minaj’s occasional boyfriend/promotional guru, Safaree “SB” Samuels, considering her observation,  ”He addicted to hustle, I’m addicted to fame.” The Billboard chart-topping song, “Starships,” in which Minaj will vocally resemble Katy Perry as much as she ever will, is another album highlight, if not slightly on the superficial side. “Pound the Alarm,” one of the rare instances where Minaj sings unaccompanied, is another feel-good track in the vein of “Starships.” Once again, Minaj affirms her superiority over other females in her genre: “What I gotta do to show these girls that I own them?/Some call me Nicki, some call me Roman.”

She won't stand for your bull shit.

In a nod to Devo, “Whip It” bolsters the dance rhythm of  Roman Reloaded, evocative of a party that might take place in Ibiza or India as Minaj shouts, “Hey stranger over there, I really like the way you whip it” (insert whip-cracking sound effect here). “Automatic” mimics the inflection of Rihanna’s “We Found Love,” continuing to propel the more buoyant side of Roman. “Beautiful Sinner” (coincidentally a similar title to Madonna’s “Beautiful Killer” from the recently released MDNA, on which Minaj collaborates with M.I.A. for “Give Me All Your Luvin’”) is Minaj’s love letter to Trinidad, allowing her to tout, “South Africa is where I am from/Get me my banjo, get me my drum” and “Trinidad, Trinidad/My island.”

Relishing her moment in the spotlight.

Yet another connection to her fraternization with Madonna as a dancing Marilyn Monroe in the video for “Give Me All Your Luvin’” is the track named for said blonde bombshell. In it, Minaj laments, “Sometimes I feel like Marilyn Monroe: I’m insecure, I make mistakes.” As the pace of the album continues to slow down, “Young Forever” (in keeping with the Marilyn Monroe theme) signals the third act, so to speak, of Roman Reloaded. Singing some of her more maudlin lyrics, Minaj croons, “Frozen in time, always be mine/Baby boy, you’ll be young forever.”

Performing "Give Me All Your Luvin'" at the Super Bowl with Madonna.

The somewhat obviously titled “Fire Burns” bolsters the vulnerable side of Minaj, allowing her to vent about love lost as she bemoans, “This is a sickening joke that you play with my emotions.” “Gun Shot” featuring Beenie Man is the perfect transition from “Fire Burns,” with its moderate rhythm and the smooth vocals of Beenie Man to complement Minaj’s narrative. “Stupid Hoe” changes up the stride of the slow jam trilogy with the infectious accusation, “You a stupid hoe.”

Owning her Barbie look.

Those with the bonus track edition of Roman Reloaded are also subject to the David Guetta/Nicki Minaj dance-suffused partnership, “Turn Me On,” the ultra-80s sounding “Va Va Voom,” the equal part rap, equal part pop “Masquerade,” and a twenty-one minute interview entitled “Press Conference” with Minaj’s main squeezes Charlemagne and Safaree “SB” Samuels. When asked about if she feels she gets enough love from New York, she vehemently denies being appreciated in spite of how hard she worked to rise to her current stature. She even recalls, “I was sellin’ my fuckin’ mix tape outta my muthafuckin’ BMW on Jamaica fuckin’ Avenue.” Enough said.

Regardless of being ousted by the Iranian film, A Separation, in the category for Best Foreign Picture at the Academy Awards, Footnote is an incisive study of the classic battle between father and son, especially when the father and son in question are members of the same competitive profession. As the fourth feature from writer-director Joseph Cedar, Footnote is a story that could only be told by someone who has inhabited the alternate world of Jerusalem. Being that Cedar was born in New York and then moved to Jerusalem where he studied at a Yeshiva High School and later went on to serve in the Israeli Army as a paratrooper, the depth and clarity with which Footnote is conveyed could not have been better suited to any other filmmaker.

Promotional poster for Footnote

As rival professors at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem, Eliezer Shkolnik (Shlomo Bar’aba) and his son, Uriel Shkolnik (Lior Ashkenazi), both take a different approach to their Talmudic research. However, Uriel’s methods have actually gained him recognition and favor among scholars and students alike, whereas Eliezer’s methods have merely alienated him from almost everyone. What is more, Eliezer’s most fervent nemesis, Professor Yehuda Grossman (Micah Lewensohn), is the person in charge of deciding which of the elected candidates in the realm of Talmudic research studies will receive the coveted Israel Prize. Grossman is also, incidentally, the man responsible for eradicating Eliezer’s lifetime of work after confirming the results of his studies before Eliezer had a chance to publish them.

Alternate promotional poster for Footnote

For this, and numerous other reasons, Eliezer holds nothing but contempt for those in the field of philology. In spite of this contempt, he is still at war with the concept of being accepted and revered by the members of his profession. Thus, when he receives a phone call from the Minister of Education informing him that he has won the Israel Prize, Eliezer suddenly becomes much more open to the credibility that comes with rising from obscurity.

Driven to madness.

Unfortunately, the adage, “If something is too good to be true, it is,” proves to be correct in Eliezer’s case as the Israel Prize committee contacts Uriel the next day to discuss an urgent matter with him. Irritated by the secrecy, Uriel complies with the committee’s request to meet with them immediately. Upon arriving at the microscopic meeting room (a setting that allows for comedic gold to ensue), Grossman and the other committee members tell Uriel that there has been a mistake and that the prize was intended for him, not his father. Knowing full well the ramifications of this error, Uriel insists that they all go on as though the prize was meant for Eliezer. Grossman, on the other hand, is vehemently opposed to such disrespect toward the honor of the Israel Prize. Nonetheless, after much arguing (including coming to actual physical blows), Grossman agrees to let Eliezer have the prize so long as Uriel types the judges’ recommendations and promises to never submit his own work to win the prize again.

At odds.

In the wake of letting Eliezer believe he is the true winner, Uriel learns how easy it is for his own father to betray him by slandering his reputation in an interview printed in Hebrew newspaper Haaretz that deems Uriel’s work cursory and childish, essentially amounting to nothing in the Talmudic studies field. Regardless of his father’s callousness, Uriel maintains the secret, sharing it only with his mother in a moment of rage. Unluckily, Uriel fails to realize the obsessiveness with which his father can study a phrase. It is through Eliezer’s meticulous attention to detail that he figures out his own son wrote the judges’ considerations. This epiphany sends him over the edge in a sequence surreally delivered through Cedar’s direction.

Tormented by the reality of his situation, Eliezer acts as though he is out of his body in the moments leading up to the award acceptance ceremony. Whether or not Eliezer gives in to his vanity and takes the prize is left at the viewer’s discretion. And it is this ending that makes Cedar’s study in character so fascinating. For Eliezer to willingly receive the award knowing who the true recipient was meant to be would make him the ultimate hypocrite and go against everything he stands for. But to admit the truth would be to admit being more mediocre than his son.

The success of Suzanne Collins’ series, The Hunger Games, was invariably going to translate into a film adaptation. Plus, the concept of a post-apocalyptic world is all too appropriate at this juncture in time. Why, I wouldn’t be surprised if we were all fighting for a chance to live on a televised competition in ten years from now (the Olympics and Survivor obviously being the precursor). But, what separates The Hunger Games from other novel series that the American reader has become obsessed with (Twilight, Harry Potter, et. al.) is its ability to poignantly address the basic concept of human existence: Survival. For those who live outside of New York City, it can be a difficult meme to recognize.

Effie Trinket (Elizabeth Banks) announces Katniss (Jennifer Lawrence) as the offering from District 12.

As the heroine of the story, Katniss Everdeen (Jennifer Lawrence), struggles to comfort her younger sister, Primrose (Willow Shields), about the upcoming selection from their district for the 74th annual Hunger Games, she realizes that there is a very good chance that Prim could be chosen. Not wanting to face that fact until the announcement is made by the escort of the District 12 tributes, Effie Trinket (Elizabeth Banks), Katniss dares to daydream of a world beyond District 12, that world being the elusive Capitol of Panem (formerly North America). For this is the place that controls all of the other districts, the place where wealth is possible (it actually sounds a lot like that Justin Timberlake/Amanda Seyfried movie, In Time). Ultimately, Katniss must offer herself as a tribute in place of her sister. Peeta Mellark (Josh Hutcherson) is the other tribute selected and, unbeknownst to Katniss, has harbored a longstanding crush on her.

Skillz.

Gary Ross, who directed the film and adapted the screenplay with Suzanne Collins, proves his wide range in directorial scope, considering that his resume up to this point has generally consisted of feel-good movies like Big, Dave, and Pleasantville (and I’m not referring to the bathtub scene in this movie as the feel-good part). The Hunger Games tackles far darker issues than Ross is accustomed to dealing with, particularly the necessity of doing any despicable thing necessary to live. This skill is crucial even before the games start as the tributes chat with TV host Caesar Flickerman (Stanley Tucci, in his best dressed role to date) in order to gain the favor and sympathy of the viewers.

Stanley Tucci as Caesar Flickerman, billing Katniss as "The Girl on Fire."

Coached by Cinna (Lenny Kravitz) on how to act and what to wear, Katniss draws attention from the get-go as she rides through the streets of the Capitol with Peeta in matching suits that are designed to be set on fire. When Peeta announces to everyone on TV that he has had feelings for Katniss since he first saw her, Katniss interprets his action as a play for empathy. Katniss and Peeta’s mentor, Haymitch Abernathy (Woody Harrelson), feels that this new twist can be used to their advantage if the audience sees them as a pair of “star-crossed lovers” (yeah, the term’s been used, but Shakespeare or whoever coined an irreplaceable term).

Cinna (Kravitz) sends Katniss (Lawrence) off to meet her fate.

Once Cinna sends Katniss out on her own, it’s an all-out bloodbath, with the weakest tributes being eliminated immediately. Katniss’ only prayer is getting a hold of a bow and arrow, as hunting via archery is one of her most useful skills. In the meantime, the remaining tributes have formed alliances, one of them specifically out to take down Katniss, who they view as the biggest threat. Katniss, on the other hand, only relies on one other tribute named Rue (Amandla Stenberg), a girl she feels she can trust because she reminds Katniss of her sister. The others eventually get to Rue before Katniss can save her, leaving solely Peeta as the last cohort she can turn to for assistance. It is at this point that the rules of the game are changed so that there can be two winners if they are from the same district.

Run fo yo life.

A blatant play-up of the “star-crossed lovers” angle, Katniss goes with it so that she can get the fuck out of the woods and back to her sister. Sadly, Peeta mistakes her feelings for being real, though in the book this element is conveyed much more succinctly. When the judges try to change the rules back to simply having one survivor, Katniss resorts to using a handful of poisonous berries she had saved so that both she and Peeta can commit suicide. Knowing full well that the political leaders of the Capitol would never stand for such a result, they submit to Katniss and allow her to return to District 12 with Peeta.

Peeta (Hutcherson) confers with Cinna (Kravitz) and Abernathy (Harrelson).

What it all boils down to is this: Lying, cheating, and generally being an asshole have become an unfortunate formula in the essential equation of getting ahead in the modern age. And it will only get worse if we permit it to. But, if you want to view a more humorous side to The Hunger Games, refer to a recent sketch on Stevie TV called “The Hunger Games Die-t Plan.”

The last role one would have anticipated Julia Roberts in is as the Evil Queen in Snow White (though in a way, the Evil Queen is very much a prostitute à la Vivian in Pretty Woman with her willingness to peddle her body/looks in exchange for money). However, what allured Roberts to the film was director Tarsem Singh’s attachment to the project. With his fame for lush, vividly visual movies like The Cell and The Fall, Mirror Mirror would seem to be the perfect vehicle for him to channel his Bollywood sensibilities into. Unfortunately, the only item worth looking at in this movie is Julia Roberts herself.

Promotional poster for Mirror Mirror

Opening with the acerbic narration of the Evil Queen (a.k.a. Queen Clementianna), she informs us that this is her story, not Snow White’s. The narrative then segues into a scene with the Evil Queen playing a game of chess with human pawns as her right-hand bitch boy, Brighton (Nathan Lane), watches nervously. At the same time, Snow White (Lily Collins…yeah, Phil Collins’ daughter), is stuck in her room, with only a bird that flies in from the window to keep her company (it’s all a little too woe is me as she sweetly feeds the bird a slice of her apple).

Another promotional poster for Mirror Mirror

Considering Julia Roberts has been on a cheesy movie bender (her past three films have included Valentine’s Day, Eat Pray Love, and Larry Crowne), it makes sense that she would want to play the bitch character in a movie that is still highly jejune–but at least she’s not the one delivering all of the cringe-worthy lines. That job is left strictly to Snow White, Prince Alcott (Armie Hammer), and the seven dwarves, whose names have been altered to the following: Half Pint (Mark Povinelli), Grub (Joe Gnoffo), Grimm (Danny Woodburn), Wolf (Sebastian Saraceno), Butcher (Martin Klebba), Chuckles (Ronald Lee Clark), and Napoleon (Jordan Prentice). The reason behind the name changes is beyond me, but it doesn’t change the intense rapport (perhaps suspiciously intense) that Snow White shares with her brethren of dwarves after she finds herself lost in the woods.

Serving you bitchery, straight up.

Before her foray into the outside world, however, Snow White attempts to ask the Evil Queen if she can go to the party that evening since it is, after all, her eighteenth birthday, but the Evil Queen merely scolds her for being “irritating.” When Snow White’s only loyal servant, Margaret (Mare Winningham, who I can only look at and think of St. Elmo’s Fire), encourages her to go into town and see what the Evil Queen has done to the kingdom that rightfully belongs to Snow White, she heeds the advice, heading into the woods in order to get there. On her way, she encounters two men hanging upside down from a tree. The men in question are Prince Alcott and his valet, who have been robbed and looted by a group of bandits (the seven dwarves–on stilts).

Armie Hammer as Prince Alcott

The immediate attraction between Snow White and the prince is undeniable–though neither of them is aware that the other is royalty. In spite of wanting to get to know one another better, Snow White continues in the direction of the town, while the prince heads toward the Evil Queen’s castle. They each find different horrors at their respective destinations: For Snow White, it is the sight of the townspeople completely destitute, for the prince it is the conniving, gold digging Evil Queen. It is not until that evening at the Evil Queen’s costume ball that Snow White realizes the true identity of the prince. Upon learning who he is, she asks him to help her restore the kingdom, but before he can comply, the Evil Queen orders Brighton to take her into the woods and kill her.

Reunited at the Evil Queen's party.

Naturally, this execution never happens and Snow White is allowed to thrive among the community of her thieving dwarves, who teach her everything they know about stealing. The film then digresses into Robin Hood-esque territory as they steal back the tax money the Evil Queen has been taking from the commoners. At this point, Mirror Mirror has dragged on for far longer than necessary, especially when you consider the demographic it is aimed at (children have very short attention spans, you know).

Snow White and her menagerie of dwarves.

While Singh’s directorial prowess and visual singularity pervade the film, not to mention Julia Roberts’ comedic timing as an additional buffer between the all-out badness of Mirror Mirror, it leaves one hoping that perhaps the next upcoming Snow White narrative (Snow White and the Huntsman, a more serious take on the story with Charlize Theron as the queen and Kristen Stewart as Snow White) won’t be so embarrassingly trite.