Author: BO

The trials and tribulations of a sexless marriage are comedically noogied in “Made for Each Other,” the latest riff on bro-centered neuroses. Enthusiastically arranged and flecked with moments of amusing comic inspiration, “Made for Each Other” nevertheless plays like a failed sitcom pilot, a foul stench director Daryl Goldberg can’t scrub away no matter how hard he tries (that is, if he did actually try). Low-budget and oddly fixated on DOA jokes, the picture certainly deserves a gold star for showing up, but the bellylaughs are few and far between.

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Over the last few years, Amy Adams has climbed the ranks to become one of the more formidable actresses of her generation. Blessed with Cinerama-wide charisma and impeccable chops, Adams has been on quite a tear as of late, singlehandedly elevating “Enchanted,” staying alert in “Doubt,” and making the “Night at the Museum” sequel just a smidge more palatable than it had any right to be. Well, it seems Adams has let her agents get the best of her, urged to try on an ill-fitting, fantastically lucrative romantic comedy lead role with “Leap Year.” It’s not that Adams isn’t capable of playing warm and fuzzy, but even her considerable gifts are no match for a sour screenplay that lazily staples together a tale of Euro swoon from other tales of Euro swoon. Adams, and frankly the Irish, deserve better than this tripe.

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“Youth in Revolt” is a very random movie that enjoys wallowing in a state of confusion. The film is smug and largely unfunny, but it’s consistently bewildering, and not in a manner that encourages further inspection. It’s a grab-bag experience built around iffy irreverence born from author C.D. Payne, yet the film seems to have tied its own shoelaces together in its eagerness to pay tribute to the writer’s intricate, darkly comic vision.

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While something of a master when it comes to art-house shock value, filmmaker Michael Haneke softens his usual death blow with “The White Ribbon.” A substantial tale of deception, accusation, and oppression facing a pre-WWI North German village, the picture moves steadily along in a grand act of exposure, guided by Haneke’s finest instincts for confrontation and chilling acts of invasion. It isn’t quite the shiv of cold-blooded reality the director is known for, but more of a fractured memory piece, with forbidding shards of destructive behavior jutting out of the most unexpected of places.

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Playwright Tennessee Williams could never be accused of subtlety, building a historic, adored career on the wings of southern-kissed hysteria, often pitched to the rafters. “The Loss of a Teardrop Diamond” has been described as a “long-lost” project, scripted by Williams while riding the waves of success that followed his “A Streetcar Named Desire” triumph. It should’ve stayed lost. A rambling, zombified pass at Williams-certified melodrama, the film is an absolute chore to finish, even while boasting a few fine performances and the luscious humidity of 1920’s southern comfort.

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Cynicism is a major component of “Wonderful World,” detailing how it can hold a life back from the smaller pleasures of the universe, offering false comfort to those less openhearted. It’s a mood exhaled into “Wonderful World” with overwhelming vigor at times, capturing the curdled nature of the lead character with unnerving accuracy. For this alone, the picture deserves a look. Perhaps not the strongest, most refined offering of drama for the new year, “Wonderful World” digs up a few choice moments of behavioral authenticity to make a lasting impression.

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The Swedish/Norwegian fantasy feature “Ronia, The Robber’s Daughter” is one of the strangest family films that I’ve come across in recent memory. Steadfastly refusing any type of narrative momentum, “Daughter” prefers to live in the moment, conjuring a storybook mood through extreme bouts of stasis, wallowing in the natural splendor of the locations and delighting in the expressive faces of the eclectic cast. At 140 minutes, “Daughter” is an acquired taste, leaving me to wonder why, 25 years after its original release, the picture has amassed a loyal following and loopy reputation as a wholesome moviegoing event for the entire family.

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Cinematic Titanic took off the majority of the 2009 DVD release year to do something few riffing outfits do: tour across America. While a joyous occasion, the cities the group visited were limited, keeping to only a few hotspots, while the rest of us unlucky souls were left in a comedy phantom zone, without any new product to satisfy the insatiable Cinematic Titanic urge. Well, the wait is finally over, with our riff heroes blazing back to ravenous DVD players with their most harmonious project yet, “East Meets Watts,” which not only serves as their long-awaited new release, but also as a document of the live Cinematic Titanic event a majority of admirers haven’t had the opportunity to devour.

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In the first reel of “District 13: Ultimatum,” we watch as one of our heroes, in the midst of tagging crime bosses left and right for arrest, must brawl his way out of a criminal lair, armed only with his martial arts skills and a rare Van Gogh painting, a masterpiece he’s trying to protect from damage. It’s a breathless, electric bout of action cinema, merging the fine art of limb-breaking with the fine art of protecting the fine arts. As sequels go, “Ultimatum” doesn’t retain the same pliability as 2004’s “District B13,” but it’s awfully easy to get lost within this crazy, Frenchified action world of parkour and gang warfare.

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Having embraced both “Revolver” (a wild brain tickler of a mystery) and “RocknRolla” (its diluted, but funky cousin) in the face of worldwide derision and miniscule box office returns, I can understand director Guy Ritchie’s sudden craving to make an accessible feature film. Thank heavens he found “Sherlock Holmes.” A vivacious adventure picture, “Holmes” funnels Ritchie’s visual gifts into an engaging reawakening of the world-famous consulting detective, bringing the iconic sleuth to a new generation of filmgoers by way of fisticuffs, homoerotic tension, and cunning star power.

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Writer/director Nancy Meyers has purchased herself one heck of an insurance policy by casting the likes of Meryl Streep, Steve Martin, and Alec Baldwin for “It’s Complicated.” It almost feels like she’s cheating to win over audiences. As sneaky a move as it is, “It’s Complicated” is saved by three consistent, surprising performances, gelling superbly together in a tepid, but comfy sweater adult-oriented comedy; better with intimate acts of submission than it is with broad strokes of slapstick.

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“Crazy Heart” was called up from the studio minor leagues this Oscar season when Fox Searchlight couldn’t find much in their year to push for awards. They sniffed out gold in Jeff Bridges’s portrayal of a boozy, greasy, at-the-end-of-his-rope country singer, hurrying “Crazy Heart” into release to roll around in the assured accolades. And Bridges is exceptional here; it’s the movie itself that’s less urgent and awkwardly defined, throttling Bridges’s impressively discombobulated performance, leaving one to wonder why there’s even a plot to “Crazy Heart” in the first place.

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