I’m almost ashamed to admit this, but I was expecting plenty more oomph from “Hannah Montana: The Movie.” The Disney Channel show makes it a point to be as piercing to the senses as possible, which makes the molasses pacing and muted effort from the big screen incarnation definitely strange. It’s not like I’m demanding depth here, just a hope that the sparks stay ahead of the yawns, and maybe a genuinely inspired moment of slapstick or two. For a film that’s essentially a lengthy commercial for the soundtrack, it doesn’t seem unreasonable to wonder why the adolescent electricity was dialed down for this tricky crossover attempt.

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Spending his directorial career in search of the proper script with the proper oddity to fit his established sense of humor, Bobcat Goldthwait has finally captured the secret formula with “World’s Greatest Dad.” A pitch-perfect black comedy, “Dad” drips with the sort of acidic smile that Goldthwait has built a career upon, bravely marching forward as not only one of the most uproarious films of the year, but perhaps the most accurate depiction of teen bile ever to grace the screen. It’s a double miracle: a stupendous comedy and a great argument for mass sterilization.

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Neal Brennan is perhaps best known for his work as a driving force behind the Comedy Central smash, “Chappelle’s Show.” A student of sketch comedy, Brennan brings his bite-sized mindset to the silver screen with the awkwardly titled feature, “The Goods: Live Hard, Sell Hard.” It seems Brennan’s instincts for comedy gold are either limited to the three-minute format or require the participation of Dave Chappelle. On his own, Brennan offers little in the way of an inner-monologue, executing a lewd comedy that has no middle speed between agreeable stillness and cringing vulgarity.

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I’ve never been the most diligent student of Japanese animator Hayao Miyazaki, unfortunately sticking mainly to the features that have booked passage to America, dubbed and redressed by the fine folks at Disney. “Ponyo” is the latest import to hit these shores and for a Miyazaki lightweight like myself, it’s perhaps the most charming production I’ve encountered yet. Heartwarming, graciously surreal, and pure eye candy, “Ponyo” is an elevating fantasy that swims enthusiastically in delightfully unexpected directions.

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An electric brew of “Alien Nation” and “The Fly,” coated with a viscous layer of social commentary, “District 9” is a volatile action/horror picture with a stupendous visual fingerprint. A barnstorming combat film with flashy weaponry, alien mysteries, and goopy body trauma, the film is destined to become a cult classic — a largely unapologetic statement of hysteria, flanked by large deposits of geek Spanish fly. However, while there’s astounding visual reach, “District 9” is riddled with inconsistencies and a confusing point of view, reducing the heat on this ambitious film, robbing it of a lasting power it should rightfully own.

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“The Time Traveler’s Wife” is a romantic, tragic, sci-fi hodgepodge of fate. To deconstruct it with an analytical mind would be a foolish proposition, confronting material that plays with fantasy conceits to create its very own identity, free from the binding straps of realism. It’s a film that needs to be granted permission to be magical and mysterious, to take the audience to unfamiliar places of time and heart. It’s a lovely picture, but something that is best approached in a relaxed state of mind.

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As charming and energetic as “Bandslam” is capable of becoming, the feature is restrained by director Todd Graff, or perhaps the better description is smothered. Graff, who covered teen ambition in the semi-musical, mostly awful “Camp,” takes on the subject again with “Bandslam,” and while the results are more pleasurable and his directorial hand improved, there’s still oodles of melodramatic itches within Graf that he should exorcise. There’s a great movie somewhere in “Bandslam,” but Graff won’t allow its natural vitality to take flight.

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Controversy has followed “G.I. Joe: The Rise of Cobra” ever since the film sprinted into production early last year amid writer strike restrictions, with fans feverishly voicing their objections to the director, the fetish-wear costume design, and character arc alterations. The buzz was so toxic on this feature, Paramount fearfully withheld the film from press screenings to preserve whatever goodwill was left to profit from. It’s not been an easy journey for “Joe,” but the toy-inspired film is finally ready to show, and to be perfectly frank, Paramount was smart to hold the picture until the last possible minute.

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Writer/director David Twohy has a lot of tricks up his sleeve with the thriller “A Perfect Getaway,” but his ambition is far more compelling than his execution. A cringingly self-aware, painfully verbose, and somewhat smug motion picture, “Getaway” is itching to keep audiences guessing, but it’s far more successful at putting viewers to sleep.

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“Julie & Julia” is a heavenly foodie playground, filled with gorgeous photography that captures every last dripping ounce of gourmet delights, anchored by a type of lascivious attention to detail that would make Bob Chinn blush. It’s a dream to behold, and the story’s not too shabby either. Carefully orchestrated to subvert expectation at all the right moments, “Julie & Julia” surprises as much as it delights, bringing writer/director Nora Ephron to a new level of storytelling subtlety once completely alien to her, pulling together a parallel lives tale that explores the thrill of creation and the agony of approval.

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During the late 1980s and early 1990s, Carolco Pictures reigned supreme with their stable of franchises (the “Rambo” series), action blockbusters (“Total Recall,” “Terminator 2,” “Cliffhanger”), and provocative thrillers (“Basic Instinct,” “Jacob’s Ladder”). And then 1995 hit them square in the jaw, due the embarrassment of “Showgirls” and the massive financial misery that emerged from record-setting box office failure of the pirate epic, “Cutthroat Island.” Much has been written and vocalized about this notorious bomb, but cleave away all the rancid press and Hollywood gossip, and there’s a rip-roaring adventure film in there somewhere that will do just about anything to please its audience.

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This is not Disney’s first encounter with Witch Mountain, and it most certainly won’t be their last. However, it’s their loudest contribution to date. A reimagining of the 1975 motion picture and the 1968 Alexander Key novel, “Race to Witch Mountain” does away with all that pesky character development stuff to put the pedal to the metal and offer family audiences an adventure packed with stunts, gunfire, and one-liners. It’s definitely a vibrant diversion, and kids will undoubtedly be glued to the screen, but the high tech, fist-happy approach leaves much to be desired.

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“Aliens in the Attic” is a DVD babysitting tool that was somehow granted a theatrical release. It’s not all that loathsome, just remarkably unremarkable; a lively war of the worlds diversion with plenty of spunky special effects, gratuitous slapstick, and Ashley Tisdale parading around in a bikini for all the dads out there. It’s something bright and flashy to rest eyes upon for 85 minutes, but I can’t imagine anyone emerging from a showing of this thing proclaiming it to be a summer 2009 highlight.

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