Author: BO

In 2000, Mark Hogancamp was beaten senseless outside of a bar by a group of brutes. The resulting brain injury wiped his mind clean, forcing the 38-year-old man to relearn basic functions, rebuilding his life after an extended hospital stay. Instead of feeding into an understandable rage over what was lost, Mark reclaimed what was left of his life through a curious hobby: photographs of 1/6-scale dolls engaged in a large-scale WWII recreation that reflects Mark’s own dreams of community support, filling his vast emotional needs.

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To see the screenwriting credit for “Morning Glory” go to Aline Brosh McKenna brings about immediate concern. The “Devil Wears Prada” and “27 Dresses” writer has a history of attaching troublesome romantic anchors to otherwise pleasingly combustible comedies. While she’s once again called in to ruin a perfectly good movie, her flavorless flirty antics only water down “Morning Glory” to a certain degree, with the rest of the picture showing unexpected comedic flair, led by a talented, enthusiastic ensemble.

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I’m unable to sit here and write that “Red Hill” refreshes the formula of the western, but this Australian production takes exquisite care of the galloping tropes that have made the genre a dependable distraction for a century of cinema. Writer/director Patrick Hughes buckles up tightly for this wild ride of revenge, fashioning a suspenseful thriller that pays loving tribute to cinematic masters, while forging its own distinctive identity by trading in the pastoral sway of America for the rough ride of Australia.

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Even for the most heady, unflinching drama, terrorism remains a risky subject matter to build a motion picture around. “Four Lions” tackles the rituals of a team of suicide bombers with a comedic slant — itself perhaps an act of cinematic self-extermination. Under the guidance of adored Brit comic Chris Morris, “Four Lions” actually manages to achieve some sizable laughs to blend with the expected discomfort, designing a clever black comedy that toys with taboos in an agreeable manner, more interested in silly behaviors than incendiary ones.

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With “For Colored Girls,” Tyler Perry looks to mature as a filmmaker, ready to rip off the Madea costume and employ proven material that doesn’t exhibit the same arch DNA as his personal work, challenging the mogul to make a movie that doesn’t scream bloody murder. Well, Perry inches to the 50 yard line with this harrowing drama, but he can’t exactly give up on his favorite pastime: summoning cringing hysteria. “For Colored Girls” is monumentally erratic, but in terms of Tyler Perry’s career thus far, it’s a masterpiece, offering the filmmaker more to chew on than his own tongue for a change. A refreshing, splendidly bleak change of pace. Hallelujer.

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Writer/director Todd Phillips found ungodly success last year with his cheery slapstick smash, “The Hangover.” It was a return to form for Phillips, who found his goofball chi again after losing his way with the abysmal 2006 comedy, “School for Scoundrels.” His latest picture, “Due Date,” reminded me of “Scoundrels” to an unnerving degree, as once again the filmmaker blows his momentum on woeful miscasting and a script that mistakes rampant mean-spiritedness for a bong-sucking good time.

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With this gifted cast and production team, it’s a crime that “Megamind” isn’t a funnier, livelier picture. A flaccid superhero satire fashioned with stunning animation, the picture feels like a runaway farce that barely wheezes out of the starting gate. The ingredients are there to make something uproarious, especially in the CG-animated realm where superhero business can assume an epic form, but there’s a distinctly deflated ambiance to the shenanigans, leaving the picture serious eye-candy on the prowl for bellylaughs it infuriatingly never finds.

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It’s been said that money is the root of all evil. In recent years, desperate financial woes have made even the threat of terrorism feel like kitten play. There’s a global crisis in full spin right now that’s resulted in collapse, ruin, and crippling unemployment, paralyzing a majority of nations. Yet, there are a select few in the corridors of power who saw this coming, even encouraged it to line their abyssal pockets with cash and feel out the boundary of their ego. Inhaling the toxins, the documentary “Inside Job” steps back and scrutinizes the pickle we’re in, understandably aghast with the state of the monetary union.

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Something happened to Taylor Hackford’s “Love Ranch” on the way to its release. I’m not exactly sure what it was, seeing how the production was plagued by a number of financial setbacks, but something singular reached in and gutted what the filmmaker was originally intending. “Love Ranch” offers such a promising premise filled with sass, slaps, and sin, but the picture feels edited with a chainsaw, reducing Hackford’s story of desire to crummy Lifetime Movie theatrics, wasting the numerous gifts of Helen Mirren along the way.

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This past summer, I had the rare opportunity to view the original “Highlander” on the big screen with a crowd of superfans and the elderly. There I was reminded just how magnificently oddball the 1986 feature is, mixing emotional fantasy escapism with rough acts of swordsmanship and villainy, moving through time and across the Earth to tell a distinctive story of immortality, backed by hyper-stylized direction from Russell Mulcahy and the heavenly sounds of Queen, who breathed romantic life into the picture with their soundtrack. It’s a splendid film filled with a fractured sense of sci-fi poetry, blessed with an ending that delivered refreshing finality.

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Producers claim “Saw 3D” is intended to be very last theatrical installment of the franchise. If you believe that, I have a bridge in Brooklyn you might be interested in purchasing. While the promotional hyperbole is expected, it seems the men in charge might actually mean it this time, shaping the film in a fashion that brings the events full circle, enticing back fans who jumped ship last Halloween to swim in the fresh waters of “Paranormal Activity.” Final installment or not, the big sendoff constructed here isn’t so big. In fact, “Saw 3D” doesn’t alter the formula one little bit, assembling another round of sharp traps, shrieks, blood sprays, and cartoon retribution, with this sequel shot in 3D to spice up the box office take.

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“Wild Target” is a feature that causes extreme discomfort. It’s not an especially hideous action comedy, merely one that wastes a colossal amount of thespian skill on uninspired material, tumbling through 90 minutes of screentime without achieving any laughs or thrills, leaving a group of marvelous actors to twist in the wind, waiting for punchlines that never arrive. It’s all such a shame.

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It started with a bang and it ends with a whimper. Stieg Larsson’s “Millennium Trilogy” comes to a substandard close with “The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet’s Nest,” a lifeless, talky series wrap up that induces more of a sense of submission than finality, stumbling through a complicated terrain of exposition without a desirable wallop of blistering suspense. Instead, the film naps, leaning on intricate plotting and established characterizations to generate inspiration.

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