Guy Ritchie’s adaptation of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s world-famous literary character most assuredly possesses an edge that no other version of Sherlock Holmes has ever had, but this fact may not be able to make up for certain foibles of the auteur’s sequel, Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows.

Promotional poster for Sherlock Holmes

With a cerebral, intially action-lacking introduction, we are reintroduced to Irene Adler (Rachel McAdams), the object of Holmes’ desire in the first film. As he warns her that she is being followed, Irene counters that she is being followed for her own protection, leaving Holmes to fight her trio of bodyguards–after they’ve made dinner plans for later. This fight scene establishes the norm for the rest of Sherlock Holmes: Slowed down and speeded up editing techniques that are, at times, too manufactured. It’s almost as though Ritchie and his editor, James Herbert (who also collaborated with Ritchie on Revolver, RocknRolla, and the first Sherlock Holmes), recently graduated from a trade school specializing in FinalCut and got overly excited about employing every possible method learned.

Alternate promotional poster for Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows

That being said, the real enjoyment of the film is not necessarily always in the visual, but in the intricacy and recondite nature of the plot as it unfolds to reveal an unprecedented rivalry between good and evil. Screenwriters Michele Mulroney and Kieran Mulroney (yes, Dermot Mulroney’s brother) pit the equally intelligent minds of Sherlock Holmes and Professor James Moriarty (Jared Harris of Mad Men–he always manages to find a role where he doesn’t have to have an American accent) against one another in a succinct manifestation of what happens when one’s mental acuity is used for unseemly purposes.

Bromance.

The Mulroneys, who also co-wrote 2009′s mixed reviewed Paper Man, show massive progress in the span of just two years as this is only their second major feature. Of course, their rendering of lesser famed characters from the Sherlock Holmes series, such as the gypsy Simza Heron (Noomi Rapace), is also a distinguished touch. Rapace, who played Lisbeth in the original versions of The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, The Girl Who Played with Fire, and The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet’s Nest, makes a more versatile substitute for Rachel McAdams’ role as the primary female of the film.

On the scene.

Second only to the incisive writing in Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows is Stephen Fry’s performance as Mycroft Holmes, the witty master of the one-liner. Not to mention the memorable image of his nude ass onscreen. While a perfectly decent film, what is troubling about Sherlock Holmes is how distant Guy Ritchie’s usually recognizable voice seems to be. And so, I would say that I’m somewhat disappointed in Ritchie with this particular effort. I now finally know how Madonna feels.

There is no other living director better equipped to tackle the subject of the importance of film than Martin Scorsese. In his latest opus, Hugo, Scorsese reiterates both visually and verbally how much less full of hope we would all be without the dreams and escapes that films provide their audience with.

Promotional poster for Hugo

Based on the book, The Invention of Hugo Cabret by Brian Selznick, screenwriter John Logan (who also adapted The Aviator and Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street, making him no stranger to collaborations with Scorsese and Johnny Depp, a producer of Hugo via his production company Infinitum Nihil) interweaves the sad tale of Hugo adeptly with the sad tale of Georges Méliès (played by the ever so surly Ben Kingsley). With regard to Méliès, the film is highly accurate in terms of the timeline of events that occurred in the life of the fallen director.

Hugo (Asa Butterfield) and his father (Jude Law) work on rebuilding an automaton.

Hugo’s world does not collide with Méliès’ until he loses his father and only parent (in a cameo-like appearance from Jude Law) to the flames of a fire. Immediately taken in by his gruff and drunken uncle, Claude Cabret (Ray Winstone), Hugo inhabits the world of time in a literal and figurative sense by running the clocks at the train station. As soon as his uncle disappears to presumably pursue his inebriated escapades, Hugo begins stealing parts from the toy stand in the station so that he can continue the work his father started on an automaton he found in the museum where he worked.

Alternate promotional poster for Hugo

When Méliès discovers Hugo stealing, he takes the boy’s notebook, featuring detailed drawings and notes about the automaton. Hugo’s only hope of getting it back is through the compassion of Méliès’ goddaughter/adopted daughter, Isabelle (Chloë Grace Moretz), who takes an instant liking to the lonesome orphan. As Hugo grows to trust Isabelle, he reveals the automaton to her (though largely in part because she wears a necklace with a heart-shaped key that will finally make the machine work). Of the machine, Isabelle notes, ”It looks sad.” Hugo replies, “I think it’s just waiting… To work. To do what it’s supposed to.” And so the entire theme of the movie is laid out: We all have some purpose, and when we aren’t given the chance to carry it out, we basically go crazy.

Examining an automaton, examining life.

Once this central theme is showcased, the plot transmutes into Hugo single-handedly rejuvenating Méliès’ enthusiasm for life–regardless of the obstacles Hugo must overcome to do so. One of those obstacles is the Chief Inspector of the train station, Gustav (played by Sacha Baron Cohen, who vaguely resembles Stanley Tucci in this role), a fiendish sort constantly trying to capture orphans and send them off to the orphanage. Then there is the brief hiccup where Hugo is convinced the automaton won’t work at all, lamenting, ”I thought if I could fix it, I wouldn’t feel alone anymore.”

My name is not Borat.

While at times bordering on the trite side, Scorsese always reins it back in with his sinister visual style. It may be a far cry from the grit of Taxi Driver, but Scorsese brings an undeniable edge to a film geared toward the preteen demographic. Not many filmmakers are capable of adroitly toeing that line.

At this point, there may be absolutely nothing left to say about the Harry Potter franchise that hasn’t been said already. But, fuck it, I’ll wax on about the final installment anyway. First of all, I was shocked that I could even gain entrance into any movie theater, all of which have suddenly become “hallowed” ground in the tri-state area. However, once this less than small feat was accomplished and I sat through a preview for The Change-Up for what was quite possibly the twentieth time, Deathly Hallows Part 2 resumed from the exact moment where it left off, with Voldemort taking possession of the Elder Wand.

The last enemy IS death, regardless of whether you're Harry Potter or not.

After several lengthy scenes involving dialogue with both a goblin and the resident wand specialist, the quest to stop Voldemort from unbridled power and finally, once and for all, killing Harry gets underway. Hermione (Emma Watson, who already seems to be working on having a career after HP with the upcoming film–also based on a book–The Perks of Being a Wallflower) is once again relied upon heavily for saving the day by disguising herself as Bellatrix Lestrange (Helena Bonham Carter) so they can enter a vault guarded by a fuck ton of other goblins and destroy one of the horcruxes that will weaken Voldemort’s power.

They made it through the wilderness.

Voldemort, creepy motherfuck that he is, knows everything that Harry does–they are connected inextricably, after all. The reason for this formerly enigmatic association is revealed during one of the many climaxes of the third act, leading the audience to whimper with despair when they learn that Harry must die in order to destroy his nemesis.

Ultimate standoff

Harry, good little ducky that he is, finds himself more than willing to sacrifice himself to the cause in order to prevent any more innocent lives from being taken at his expense. This is one of the seemingly infinite moments in the film that will get you a bit misty-eyed. The number one example probably being when Harry retrieves the resurrection stone and gets a chance to speak with his mother before facing Voldemort.

Promotional poster for Deathly Hallows Part 2

Although the film has many satisfying moments, there is nothing extra special about it, apart from the fact that it is the final installment. Deathly Hallows Part 1 was actually more exhilarating in terms of the anticipation that was built up throughout the entire film, as well as the animation of the history behind the Deathly Hallows. However, Deathly Hallows Part 2 definitely has one element going for it that Part 1 does not: The always fierce Maggie Smith as Professor Minerva McGonagall.

Badass bitch.

And so, while this may be the end of Harry Potter (though I have a feeling J.K. Rowling will churn something out in the years to come), the massive juggernaut will continue to live on in the hearts and minds of its fans (no resurrection stone required). Plus, it holds the distinction of being one of the few franchises that appeals to both genders. Star Wars and [ insert comic book here ] were always held back by their allure to a single demographic.

It may be a delusional assertion, but I’ve never been so underwhelmed by the buildup to a theatrical release (well, excluding Sex and the City, but that was no shock. I had genuine faith in this Burton/Disney collaboration). Alice in Wonderland, whether in 3D or not, was a dim reminder of Tim Burton’s abilities. I did like Bayard the talking bloodhound though. In fact, I don’t think people realize it, but that might be why a great many moviegoers are coerced into being so taken by this film: Everyone’s a pushover for the wide-eyed look of a dog that can speak English, not to mention the added bonus of Johnny Depp in drag.

The Mad Hatter and the Red Queen: Residents of a Wonderland I care not to visit

Writer Linda Woolverton can be credited with most of the originality of the film in her take on Lewis Carroll’s storybook version of Alice in Wonderland, called “What Alice Found There,” combining it with some of the premises of Disney’s 1951 animated version. But even a decent script can fall by the wayside if all of the emphasis is on the visual; this makes what sparse dialogue there is highly vulnerable to judgment. I think the only non-banal line that was delivered came from the mouth of Crispin Glover (who else could be trusted with such a purpose?) when he said to Alice in giant form, “I like your largeness.”

Crispin Glover as the Knave of Hearts

Even though the audience knows going in that this is going to be Tim Burton’s rendering of a time-honored, classic story, it is heinously lacking some of the best elements, one of them being the white rabbit screaming, “I’m late, I’m late for a very important date!” or the Queen of Hearts pitching a fit about someone painting her roses red. Or even the walrus and his clam family. Everything is merely a subtle reference or an inconsequential nod to the precendents set by the original story (though the inclusion of the jabberwocky was a pretty badass move). Not to say that Lewis Caroll’s psychedelic ranting is worthy of bible-level reverence, but there should be some amount of more highly attuned compliance to this dearly departed, drug-addled literary figure.

Anne Hathaway in her unblemished portrayal of the White Queen

Another item to consider is the timing of this film’s release. The entire plot is centered around ending the reign of an evil and depraved ruler. It would have been nice if this could have coincided with the Bush years. Obama hasn’t quite yet reached this level of odium yet. At least not until after the final resolution for health care. It just would have given the movie a layer of depth that is appreciably missing underneath the five hundred coats of makeup on the combined faces of Johnny Depp, Helena Bonham Carter, and Anne Hathaway. There’s also the contradictory message of saying “All the best people are mad” and then turning around and condemning the Red Queen for her diabolical eccentricity. Why Tim, are you a secret advocate of Mahmoud Ahmadinejad?

Through a series of unfortunate events (i.e.: Google posting the incorrect time for The Taking of Pelham 1 2 3), I was left to watch Up. Up is the Walt Disney / Pixar animated adventure, directed by Pete Docter and Bob Peterson (who also wrote the screen play). Old school actors Ed Asner and Christopher Plummer are the main voices of the film. Not sure if I would consider this a kid’s film, but being the “adult” I am, it also did not feel like it was for me. Unless you’re gay for Pixar, I’d stay away.

Up Movie Poster

Carl Fredricksen (Ed Asner) is swept off his feet at a really early age by his life-long partner, Ellie. We get a really sweet, and then super-sad montage of the couple as they age together, and then Ellie’s eventual death, at the beginning of the film. Carl is a balloon salesman, and Ellie’s dream (which Carl promised he would accomplish) was for them to move their house on top of a place called Paradise Falls, in South America. Charles Muntz (Christopher Plummer), a rich adventurer/explorer (I’m guessing an allusion to Howard Hughes), is the couple’s childhood hero, and traps himself on Paradise Falls, until he can bring back a rare creature he claims to have spotted there.

After Ellie’s death, Carl tries to keep his promise by strapping thousands of balloons to the bottom of the house’s chimney sweep, and flying it over to Paradise Falls. Obviously, this is extremely plausible. Yea yea, animated movie…suck my dick. On Carl’s trip to Paradise Falls, he finds out he is carrying some extra baggage in the form of a young boy, Russell, who is the equivalent to a Boy Scout. Russell helps the story along with various retardness, and they eventually make it to Paradise falls. While there, the unlikely duo have a run-in with Charles Muntz, and the majority of the drama unfolds in the story. Of course, we have to have a happy ending.

Disney is trying to run Uhaul out of business

So where do I begin? We all know the animation was amazing, so there’s really no point in getting into that. For certain, I would never want my non-existent children to see this film. There are really no good lessons taught, other than sorrow, death, and to follow your most retarded dreams. Even though it is an animated film, I don’t think that gives Pixar the green light to absolutely defy logic, which really bothered me. And even though the music was really beautiful, I hated that they used it to make the audience feel sad while Carl reminisced about Ellie.

Ed Asner has an awesome voice, which I’m sure I could masturbate to, if given the appropriate settings, but it doesn’t pull the film out of the gutter. Up simply did not cut it – the story was just too far-fetched, and was not compelling. The best part of the film was the early montage about the couple’s life, but everything after that was slow and dull.