Back in 2008, I watched a really good HBO mini-series called House of Saddam. It was a frighteningly accurate look at the Iraqi dictator and his maniacal regime. But as much as Saddam was a ruthless leader, his son Uday was arguably the most sadistic of the Hussein men. Research Uday’s name and you will find stories of torture and murder, a reputation seemingly incompatible with his goofy, childlike exterior. The Devil’s Double is the pseudo-biography of Latif Yahia, a man handpicked out of nowhere to serve as Uday’s double, to impersonate him, to throw himself into a hail of bullets to protect Saddam’s merciless offspring.

Dominic Cooper plays a dual role as Uday and Latif. After serving in the Gulf War, Latif is plucked from his normal (well, normal by postwar Iraq standards) existence and thrust into Saddam’s extravagant mansion. While this might be considered lucky for the average Iraqi, Latif knows that being chosen does not come with a choice. In other words, he will become Uday’s double whether he likes it or not; if he should argue or resist, his family will be savagely murdered. His first meeting with Uday is tense and nerve-wracking. Uday himself is not uncomfortable at all; to the contrary, he is overconfident, self-entitled, and silly acting. He smokes a huge cigar and wears an expensive suit. It’s apparent that his life of luxury has gone to his head. He has become a king in his own mind, a man of superiority worthy of all the comforts and conveniences life can offer. Latif, by comparison, is humble and more interested in a life of peace. Unfortunately, Uday will not let that happen.

A typical day in Uday’s life involves drinking, cocaine, rape (and the victims are routinely underage girls who are subsequently killed and thrown away like garbage), murder, and general insanity. Most of Uday’s entourage cannot stand him; they think he’s childish, immature, and sadomasochistic. Latif, of course, witnesses all of Uday’s madness and quickly tires of the routine.

To add another layer of craziness of top of everything else, Sarrab (Ludivine Sagnier), one of Uday’s regular conquests, begins to prefer Latif. But it’s a well-known warning that Uday’s girls are off-limits. Nevertheless, Latif does begin a relationship with Sarrab, knowing full well that being caught means being shot.

The Devil’s Double was released in theaters but yanked quickly. It had a budget of over $18 million dollars; but it is a foreign film (Belgium), and those typically nosedive quickly with American audiences. Personally, I’ve always had an unexplained curiosity with the people throughout history considered mad, uncontrollable, and infamous. I remember the first time I read about Countess Elizabeth Báthory and her castle of horrors where scores of young women were butchered like cattle. I hesitate to say I was enthralled, but that’s the only word I can find to accurately describe my reaction. Similarly, the story of Vlad Ţepeș captivated me when I learned that he was the supposed inspiration for Bram Stoker’s legendary creation, Dracula. So, it was with the same interest that I read the harrowing tales of Uday Hussein, a modern version of these monsters with the same bloodthirsty lifestyle. His character in House of Saddam was the standout, in my opinion; an entire film about his escapades, I felt, was a must-see.

Without question, Dominic Cooper did an incredible job playing both Uday and Latif. His portrayal actually made me believe I was watching two separate people. Uday was a jubilant lunatic with a laugh that combined the Joker of Batman fame with Dr. Giggles. His bucked teeth made him look all the more stupid. But behind this comical appearance was a brutal killer, hell bent on proving himself as the most important Hussein. One of the most memorable scenes in the film occurs at a party gone awry. After a disagreement with Kamel Hannah (Mem Ferda), Saddam’s close friend and taste tester, Uday grabs a large carving knife and begins slicing into Hannah, ending his rampage by literally ripping Hannah’s stomach apart and causing his organs to spill onto the table.

In sharp contrast to Uday, Latif was a simple man, more concerned with getting home to his family and working in his father’s business. He shares Uday’s looks, but not Uday’s mentality. In fact, he makes a concerted effort numerous times to distinguish himself from the son of Saddam. As one might expect, Latif’s hatred for Uday begins to swell, along with his frustration over being forced to live a tumultuous life. These feelings steer the remainder of the film to its ultimate destination.

Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to catch The Devil’s Double during its short theatrical run. I finally watched it on DVD. Please do yourself a favor and either rent or buy the DVD. This is a film that deserves to be seen.

Everyone is raving about The Avengers, and I mean everybody. This film is generating so much hype that it took me weeks to find a showing that wasn’t overrun by humanity. Oh sure, I could have seen it opening weekend, but I’ve become quite fond of breathing; in other words, being sandwiched between rows of people gorging themselves on a $10 bucket of popcorn is not my idea of comfortable viewing. Also, I’m usually not one for buying into the blockbuster hysteria. I may see a big film, but not because the masses tell me to see it. But, I finally did see The Avengers, and I think I finally understand what all the fuss is about.

Long story (143 minutes) short, The Avengers is a team of superheroes united by a common enemy. In this case, the enemy is Loki (Tom Hiddleston), the brother of Thor (Chris Hemsworth) and a megalomaniac with a sense of entitlement. Loki and his otherworldly army are determined to take over Earth. Well, this is a superhero movie, so we all know that isn’t going to happen. But Loki has no intention of giving up quietly. In fact, he threatens to summon the wrath of Hell if things don’t go his way. So of course, he decides to start destroying things in New York City, a massive, congested metropolis with a tragic history. Sounds reasonable.

First we meet Natasha Romanoff/Black Widow (Scarlett Johansson), outwardly a delicate female, but in reality a lightning fast, manipulative, acrobatic fighter capable of bringing a giant to his knees. She begins to round up the individual members of the super team. Working closely with Nick Fury (Samuel L. Jackson), Black Widow sets out to locate Bruce Banner (Mark Ruffalo), a soft-spoken doctor trying to keep a lid on his anger, lest he turn into his more recognizable alter-ego, The Hulk. Next, Tony Stark/Iron Man (Robert Downey Jr.) is pulled into the mix, along with Steve Rogers/Captain America (Chris Evans), and finally, Thor. All four heroes are equipped with a special ability. Now, they will have to use everything they have to stop one man dressed like Rufus from Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure.

A superhero movie is 25% about plot, and 75% about stunning visuals. As that goes, The Avengers was an exciting film to watch. Some people quickly bore of overly-stimulating imagery, but not me. Actually, if I had to watch a superhero movie with nothing but people standing around talking, I’d probably just get up and leave. There are Broadway plays for those who want to see people talking nonstop. I thought there was a good balance here. Yes, there was an overload of explosions, destruction, buildings cut in half, giant robotic versions of Falkor, the luckdragon from The NeverEnding Story, and comic book logic, but there was also humor, wit, and an impressive, tightly-weaved story. I like the characters in The Avengers. I’ve seen a few of the individual films (Captain America, Thor, etc…) and it’s obvious they were purposely made to lead up to this enormous culmination. Oh, but that’s not all.

Anyone even slightly familiar with comic book movies knows not to walk out of the theater as soon as the credits start rolling. The people in my theater didn’t get the memo, because as soon as the heavy rock music kicked in and the white list of names began moving up the screen, everyone flew out of their seats and scattered like roaches. The fear of post-movie traffic makes people do crazy things. Nevertheless, a surprise waits at the end of the film if you’re patient enough to sit still for five minutes. This is a common tactic used to tease a new film on the horizon. They did it at the end of Green Lantern, though that movie didn’t rake in the dollars like other superhero films, so who knows if the sequel will see the light of day.

The actors fit their roles perfectly. Chris Evans is a good Captain America. He has that steel appearance, rugged, but boyish enough to keep an innocent edge. After all, he’s from another time, the 1940s, and he’d probably much rather go to a dance and move around the floor to The Andrews Sisters than fight people. But such is life, Captain. Robert Downey, Jr. is flawless as Iron Man. My girlfriend doesn’t like his character that much, but I have a slightly different opinion, probably because he uses razor-sharp sarcasm to make a point, and that reminds me of myself. Mark Ruffalo is good as Bruce Banner, and also as The Hulk. Though the character is almost completely CGI, Ruffalo’s facial expressions and mannerisms helped to create Hulk’s nuances. I enjoyed when The Hulk was on the screen, which sadly, didn’t actually happen until the film was coming in for a landing. Lastly, Chris Hemsworth has perfected the Thor character. I wish he’d wear that hat with the wings though. Didn’t he learn anything from Adventures in Babysitting?

The Avengers is so full of one-liners and exhilaration that it’s hard to summarize it. Luckily, I don’t feel like I have to sell people on it. To date, the film has made $1,016,095,436, so I doubt my review will make much difference one way or another.

The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel is a veritable who’s who of British acting royalty. The problem is - many Americans aren’t interested in that. Sure, they might see Maggie Smith and remember her as the stern Mother Superior in 1992’s Sister Act, but is that not a slap in the face to a woman whose credits go all the way back to the 1950s? Sure it is. Thankfully, I knew better and imagined the comedic possibilities of this film as soon as I watched the trailer. Oh, Smith’s character alone is worth the price of admission, but the addition of Judi Dench, Ronald Pickup, Bill Nighy, Tom Wilkinson, Celia Imrie, and Penelope Wilton pushed everything over the edge and kept me roaring for two hours straight.

This doesn’t really seem like a comedy, at least not on the surface. The basic setup is as follows: six retirees each find their own path to The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel, a breathless resort where relaxation is encouraged, and guests are treated like royalty in a peaceful, remote area of India. Evelyn Greenslade (Judi Dench) is a widow with an optimistic outlook and children who doubt her ability to care for herself; Graham Dashwood (Tom Wilkinson) is an executive who keeps up appearances, but is secretly unhappy with corporate life and retires; Douglas and Jean Ainslie (Bill Nighy and Penelope Wilton) are a married couple whose differences are starting to whittle away the remaining shreds of their marriage; Muriel Donnelly (Maggie Smith) is a wheelchair-bound spinster with a somewhat racist mentality; Madge Hardcastle (Celia Imrie) is the cougar type, using her sex appeal to hunt for a rich husband; and Norman Cousins (Ronald Pickup) is a lonely old man with the frolics of youth running through his veins. The seven strangers meet in the airport and quickly become inseparable. When they finally arrive at the hotel, after a completely manic trip through the overcrowded streets of India, they find a dilapidated shack of a resort, shabby, unfinished, and manned by a kid named Sonny Kapoor (Dev Patel).

As one might imagine, the elderly spitfires are completely nonplussed by the beaten-down hotel. They consider leaving, but Sonny’s lightning fast double talk convinces them to stay. Besides, where else could they possibly go in a foreign country with a sea of people standing between them and safe travel? Realizing their lack of options, they drop their bags and decide to stay. Throughout the course of the trip, they will laugh, cry, experience loss, find themselves, and see beauty where none appears to exist.

If I had to write one statement summarizing this film, it would be: things are not always what they appear to be. The underlying premise of Marigold is about appreciating the smaller things in life, and not taking anything for granted. What we find between the lives of the main characters is a lesson in humility. Americans in particular should take a book full of notes. Not only do we feel a bit ashamed to have such extravagant “needs” (read: iPods, iPhones, iPads, or just about anything else with an ‘i’ in front of it), but we are filled with admiration for those who can live with far less. Sure, India is burgeoning daily with an endless amount of humanity, but the ability to look through the crowds and into the sunset is an art mastered by the people, an art the seven main characters would do well to master as well. In the end, we expect them all to be lighter, more fulfilled versions of themselves.

The cast made this film. First, Maggie Smith was unforgettable as the crabby, depressed, old maid who hides her dissatisfaction beneath an iron exterior. She makes some of the most jaw-dropping comments, things only someone from the old school could say without feeling guilty. Her character is immediately repulsed by the “brown faces” of India, recoiling in her wheelchair as if the people are monsters with a contagious disease. Her face is haggard and tired, and it isn’t hard for the audience to attribute her irritability to a life full of regrets. Judi Dench is probably the coolest, most modern-thinking member of the group. Despite her age, her character seems youthful and brimming with positivity. She’s the type that focuses on the solution rather than the problem. She’s no-nonsense, but caring and compassionate. She’s the rock, of sorts. We want more for her than what she has; we want her to be happy, even as a widow. Bill Nighy and Penelope Wilton were impressive as the embittered couple. Nighy’s character is too nice for his own good; his passiveness is such that he slights himself for the good of his marriage. As his wife, Penelope Wilton’s character does little to reciprocate. She’s become an unpleasant, nasty woman who tears others down to lift her own spirits. Nighy’s character is so completely opposite that we wonder how these two could have stayed married for a year, much less the forty years they are currently boasting. Tom Wilkinson’s character is a quiet man with the world on his shoulders, or so it appears. But he doesn’t complain; he takes life as it is, rather than how he feels it should be. Interestingly, Wilkinson’s character is the only one with ties to India. He had been there as a young man, and this latest visit is rooted in some unfinished business from his past. Ronald Pickup’s character is sad and lonely, but you’d never really know it unless he tells you. On the surface, he’s full of hijinks and clownish behavior. He’s looking for companionship; his standards are not too high, he just needs a shoulder on which to lay his head. He needs a willing listener, someone who cares, a person who values an old man with a young heart. Finally, Celia Imrie’s character is a woman on the loose. She wants a man – bad. But more than that, she wants a wealthy man, perhaps a widower looking for a trophy wife. She wants to be the trophy; she’s fine with hanging on a man’s arm like an accessory. Well, that’s what she says. We get the feeling that she too is tired of being lonely. In different ways, each character is searching for something, that one thing they feel will enrich their lives.

I jumped at the chance to see this film. I could have opted for the seriously-hyped Avengers (which I’m sure I’ll see at some point), but I expect that to be in theaters forever, like The Hunger Games, because of its money-making prowess. The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel, however, I’m afraid with disappear quickly. As much as this film has the propensity to be successful (if we were a film-watching public with a better attention span and an appreciation for good acting) it probably won’t catch on. Then again, The Help went viral, so maybe there’s hope. After all, this whole film is about hope.

My interview with Griffin Dunne, star of such films as After Hours, An American Werewolf in London, and more!

Oh how I’ve waited for a movie about Edgar Allan Poe. It’s not that his works have been altogether ignored; we must remember the films from the 1960s and 1970s that paid homage to the great master. But there has never been a real biopic on Poe, despite his acclaim and merit. When I first heard about The Raven, I thought we were finally going to get said biopic. If you’re a Poe enthusiast, you know that melancholia followed him all his life, and that his macabre imagination was nothing more than the ghosts of his heartbreak spilling into the literary world. Thorough research would make this a fascinating character study, in addition to a long overdue spotlight on one of history’s best writers. But this is not a biopic.

The Raven has an interesting premise. Some unseen maniac is literally acting out the strange happenings from Poe’s most terrifying stories. Poe (John Cusack) himself is originally suspected but quickly bypassed when head detective Fields (Luke Evans) finds an inconsistency between the size of Poe’s hand and the strangle marks on the neck of the latest victim. Surrounding this melee is Poe’s forbidden romance with Emily Hamilton (Alice Eve) and the brashness of her well-connected father (Brendan Gleeson). Expectedly, the intricate murders might very well hit closer to home, to the fragile walls of Poe’s heart, if he does not pacify the killer; and how might this be done? Well, therein lays the mystery.

This is really just historical fiction, embellished affairs rooted in a bit of truth, similar to 2001’s From Hell (Jack the Ripper). You might also find some similarities between The Raven and the recent Sherlock Holmes franchise with Robert Downey Jr. There’s a dismal, 19th century look prevalent in these films, heavy fog and candlelight, dread lurking in the shadows, creepiness, and a backdrop of people divided into two groups: the rich, well-dressed members of society and the lower class peasantry with dirty teeth and a limited vocabulary. Of course, this ambiance is exaggerated for our benefit. There’s no way that the real world could have ever looked so delightfully chilling. If it did, I’m really upset to be living in this century.

Now, I have to make a confession. As soon as I learned that The Raven would not be a biopic, and that it was going to follow the stereotypical formula for presenting anything pre-1900 to audiences, I was very disappointed. I mean, this is Edgar Allan Poe we’re talking about. This man wrote The Raven, The Tell-Tale Heart, The Fall of the House of Usher, and The Facts in the Case of M. Valdemar (one of my favorites), among others. Doesn’t he deserve something better? Sure, he was a tortured soul, and he is reputed to have had an absinthe habit, but he is still Edgar Allan Poe. He inspired H.P. Lovecraft, who in turn inspired Stephen King. All that we know of horror, if truth be told, can be attributed to Poe. Hollywood needs to smarten up, screw its head on straight, and get some talented screenwriters to create something worthwhile. And John Cusack in the lead? He doesn’t look anything like him!

These were my thoughts in the beginning, but not in the end.

For as much as I’m capable of enjoying a Poe-inspired film that really isn’t about Poe, the writer, the artist, I did enjoy The Raven. I liked the look of the sets and it was interesting to see the genius of Poe’s concoctions (The Pit and the Pendulum, for example) acted out. John Cusack, to my surprise, did quite well. Mind you, I always knew it was John Cusack; never was I so mesmerized that I thought I was actually watching Poe. But to be fair, I’m not sure anyone could have pulled that off.

I’m expecting The Raven to fail. When I walked out, after the movie was over, there was a line snaking through the entire building waiting for a late showing of The Avengers. That is the blockbusting moneymaker that will undoubtedly overtake anything that dares to challenge it for box office dollars. Now that The Hunger Games has finally started to trail off, there was a glimmer of hope for other movies. But with a new superhero movie infiltrating the theaters on the verge of summer, all hope is lost. The Raven will probably fade away after a few sputtering weeks, and it’s a shame, because underneath its flourishes, this is a well-done story. But the real Poe would refuse to write for anyone who did not appreciate his efforts; maybe this film should follow suit. Nevermore.

Nicholas Sparks is a fine writer for his demographic. When you pick up one of his books, you know what you’re about to read. The story is likely to involve two people in love and some unforeseen circumstance that drives a wedge between them. That was the case with The Notebook, continued with Dear John, and I assumed, would serve as the basis for The Lucky One. I was right. Granted, the predictability of a film might deter some theatergoers from spending their hard-earned money; but if you’re someone who enjoys this type of film, you don’t worry about knowing the outcome ahead of time, because you’re really only there for the bumpy ride.

Zac Efron is Logan, a soldier on his third tour of Operation Iraqi Freedom, who is suddenly knocked unconscious when a roadside bomb explodes. Shortly before the explosion, however, he’d found a photo of a woman standing in front of a lighthouse. To Logan, the happy imagery is a breath of fresh air in an atmosphere rife with gun powder and smoke. After being discharged and returning home, Logan makes it his personal mission to track down the woman in the photo and thank her for giving him a reason to survive.

We learn that the woman in the picture is named Beth (Taylor Schilling), and that she runs a kennel with her grandmother Ellie (Blythe Danner). We also learn that Beth’s brother Drake (Kendal Tuttle) had been killed in action during the war, assumedly, on the same mission as Logan. So it’s likely that the photo belonged to Drake, and that Logan is struggling internally with giving Beth the details of her brother’s death. While it’s almost a given that Logan will develop feelings for Beth, a Nicolas Sparks story (as mentioned earlier) will need some kind of romance interruption. In The Lucky One, his name is Keith (Jay R. Ferguson) and he’s Beth’s ex-husband. Keith is a police officer and the resident big fish in a small pond; he takes great pride in flaunting his lawful authority around town. The trouble is, Beth and Keith also have a son named Ben (Riley Thomas Stewart), a young boy obviously distraught over the separation of his mother and father. Logan acts like a father figure and even seems to have more in common with Ben; they both have musical talents (Ben with the violin; Logan with the piano) and they both enjoy playing chess. In this regard, Keith’s never-ending meddling makes any relationship between Logan and Beth nearly impossible, especially because Keith has partial custody of Ben and is therefore free to show up anytime he sees fit. He sees fit way too often.

That’s the basic foundation of his film. I would say it’s slightly formulaic, though not to the point to discouraging people. The setting (Louisiana) is intentionally peaceful, with large, swaying trees, a small community where everyone knows each other, and quiet evenings where the only sounds are crickets and porch swings. Remember Julia Roberts’ new digs in 1991’s Sleeping with the Enemy? Well, this town is similar. Beth is an attractive woman; and as the audience, we wonder why she would ever have been involved with a moron like Keith. He’s intentionally irritating, sticking his nose in things that don’t concern him. As a newcomer thrust in the middle of everything, Logan can’t catch a break. He’s routinely hassled by Keith, unfairly, simply because he’s there. Logan exudes far more patience and self-control than most people would have in such circumstances. His days as a marine have obviously taught him discipline.

The acting in The Lucky One was effective. Zac Efron was a good choice for Logan (although I didn’t read the novel, so what do I know?) He is consistently trying to take more adult roles, no doubt in an attempt to eradicate the Disneyesque image with which he is still loosely associated. If this film is any indication, he is on track to have a fruitful career. Efron’s Logan is suffering from some level of PTSD, quite normal for any war veteran, but severely detrimental to anyone trying to live a normal life. Loud sounds startle him, prompting flashbacks of gunfire and chaos; sudden movements cause him to act on red alert, with hair-trigger response time, and without much thought. This too, is left over from his marine training. So in effect, Logan must learn how to be human again; he must empathize with others and remember that being on-guard at all times can be counterproductive. The method by which this is accomplished is through Logan’s relationship with Ben. Though Ben does have his father Keith, Keith is more concerned with making his son a “man” and teaching him the stereotypical rules of manhood (playing sports, having no fear, etc.) rather than showing interest in Ben’s abilities. Ben is an artistic child; Keith doesn’t know how to raise such a child. As Keith, Jay R. Ferguson did well. I’m a fan of AMC’s Mad Men, so I recognized him immediately. Ferguson played Keith with enough balance that we actually feel sorry for him in some strange way, while hating him at the same time. Keith obviously suffers a dysfunctional bond with his own father (Adam LeFevre), which has done little to teach him the father-son relationship. In other words, it’s not really his fault; we know that and we can sympathize, but he’s still a jerk.

The other acting of note comes from Taylor Schilling, who doesn’t have too much of a filmography behind her. But here, she plays Beth the correct way. She is a soft-spoken single mother who drowns her depression in her kennel work. Her brother, with whom she shared a special bond, is gone; her marriage was little more than obligatory; her parents were killed in a car accident when she was little. So what does she really have? She has her son Ben and her grandmother.

Okay, so we understand the structure of The Lucky One; we know that there will be some sighs from female audience members and some eye-rolling from the men. We expect that, so let’s put it aside and look at the film. This isn’t bad by any means. The back story isn’t so overpowering that it controls the plot; rather, it serves as a foundation and nothing more. The film is nice to watch and held my attention. I didn’t have unfair expectations and neither should anyone else. If you go see The Muppets and expect Wuthering Heights, that’s your fault. Take this for what it’s supposed to be and I think you’ll find The Lucky One satisfying.

How fitting that I watched Cabin in the Woods on Friday the 13th. On a mysterious day rife with a million superstitions, and honored with one of the most successful horror franchises of all time, I sat in a crowded theater and waited for every cliché in the book. And I got them, but not in the way one might expect. There were some rumblings beforehand about this film and how it threw the audience for a loop. Naturally, if a horror film is going to take place in the woods, we’re looking for a gang of stupid teenagers to make every mistake and bad decision possible. The universe is designed to kill off people with such moronic instincts and we rarely feel sorry for them. As long as at least one girl is naked and a jock is bisected, all is right in the world. These are the images I harbored at the beginning; in the end, I felt something else entirely.

The setup is taken directly from 80s Horror 101. A group of teens decide to visit a remote cabin for a weekend of booze, unprotected sex, and general hijinks. Trees, isolation, marijuana, and a big lake – it sounds like such a lovely time. The main players are stereotypes: the good girl/virgin Dana (Kristen Connolly), the popular jock Curt (Chris Hemsworth), the stoner Marty (Fran Kranz), the educated gentleman Holden (Jesse Williams), and the sexually-charged nymph Jules (Anna Hutchison). These are the pieces of a mindless puzzle, a prescription for disaster, the formula for every slasher film I can remember – Friday the 13th, Sleepaway Camp, April Fool’s Day, The Funhouse, Texas Chainsaw Massacre; the list is nearly endless. Cabin in the Woods even has one more staple of the genre – a crazed, backwoods gas station attendant who seems to have an intricate knowledge of the cabin’s history. Of all the people in the area (and there are, maybe two) he is the walking encyclopedia of do’s and don’ts – DO turn around and drive like hell in the other direction, DON’T keep going and expect to live, not in those woods! But do people in these films ever take the warning seriously? No, they have to ignore it; otherwise there would be no film.

The tagline on the Cabin poster is very telling. You think you know the story. Yes, I thought I knew the story, and I’m sure everyone else in the theater did too, but we didn’t. Not even close. Cabin in the Woods is far from the conventional horror-film-in-the-middle-of-nowhere. In fact, had it followed the usual storyline, it would probably be an eye-roller. But no, this is unlike anything I have ever seen. Without divulging any crucial parts of the plot, the cabin is not “real” in the sense of an old broken-down shack owned by Curt’s cousin. It exists physically, but its true function is to be part of a game. It is controlled by a group of people, all of whom are constantly watching the five protagonists like a macabre reality show. It is not merely happening in the barrenness of the woods, but in different countries around the world. This is not candid camera; there is a deep, historical reason for the game. There is something else brewing beneath the surface; and quite literally, all of humanity is resting on the outcome of the experiment. And what’s more – everything we fear, no matter how ridiculous, plays a part in the operation. So just when you thought there would be some lunatic in a white mask wielding a machete…

I love horror movies that deviate from the norm. When I reviewed Insidious, I praised the filmmakers for creating a terrifying world vastly different from anything I had ever seen. I would say, without reservation, that Cabin in the Woods also succeeded in that regard. It’s not that it was overly frightening, but it was odd, in some otherworldly manner that I can’t really explain. When we realize that things are being controlled and manipulated, it does take some of the punch out of the horror. Seriously, wouldn’t we rather see ghosts, monsters, or grotesque creatures that come from some distant, unknown realm? Remember 1986’s House and that disgusting purple witch with sharp fingernails? Where did that thing originate? We don’t know; we just know it’s there, in our world, and it shouldn’t be. Those are the things that make horror films exciting. Cabin has a little bit of that, but mostly, there is more of a human explanation for everything that’s happening. Still, this is a highly original story that took a lot of imagination. It isn’t just a killer trying to avenge his drowning.

The acting in this film is exactly what it should have been. Each of the characters was an archetype. My personal favorite was Marty (Fran Kranz), very much the embodiment of Shaggy from Scooby Doo, a sleepy-talking, unshaven stoner with marijuana-fueled wisdom. He had a lot of funny one-liners and was the basis for much of Cabin’s comic relief. The only other comedy worth mentioning came courtesy of Bradley Whitford, who played one of the people controlling things. I’ll never be able to separate him from Revenge of the Nerds; it’s the truth and I’m not apologizing for it. The major promotional value of Cabin is the inclusion of Chris Hemsworth, who has since become famous as Thor and who will undoubtedly continue to rise through The Avengers. Despite being newly released in theaters, this film was shot in 2009, before Hemsworth was anyone of note. This is an assumed plus.

I approve of Cabin in the Woods and urge everyone to see it. But you definitely should go in expecting to be surprised. There were a few things that were unexplained; and if you’re one of those people obsessed with picking out plot holes, you might drive yourself crazy trying to find some logical explanation. But doesn’t that negate the idea of a horror film? Logic doesn’t really apply.

Salmon Fishing in the Yemen. You might read the name of this film and wonder what it’s about. There have been other films with strange names, like The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants or Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood. When these come out, you almost wonder why they didn’t change the name before releasing it to the masses.  As for Salmon, it sounds like a documentary on the Discovery Channel, and I think that’s why a lot of people aren’t seeing it.

Sheikh Muhammed (Amr Waked) is a wealthy man with numerous mansions in his possession. One of them is in Scotland; and in his spare time, he takes full advantage of his spacious grounds by fishing for salmon. On a whim, the sheikh decides to attempt the impossible; he wants to introduce salmon fishing to a barren desert in the Yemen. Fisheries expert Dr. Alfred Jones (Ewan McGregor) is subsequently approached by Harriet (Emily Blunt), a consultant trying to help bring the sheikh’s idea to fruition. Jones is completely skeptical, naturally, because the idea of fishing for anything in the desert is asinine. Nevertheless, Harriet is brimming with optimism, perhaps because she doesn’t understand the impossibility (of sheer absurdity) of the undertaking. In fact, Jones considers the project laughable at best. In the middle of everything is Patricia Maxwell (Kristin Scott Thomas), a public relations specialist who lives and breathes her job; she is excited about the prospect of salmon fishing in the Yemen, not because it will benefit the country or its people, but because the PR opportunities are endless.

You can almost guess where this film is going. Any time we see a plot dealing with impracticality or hopelessness, there is sure to be a complicated, unbelievable method by which the impossible is achieved. 2010’s Conviction is one such film. These films present the viewer with an unreachable goal and then restore their belief in miracles when the goal is reached. Salmon Fishing in the Yemen follows this ideology. Regardless of how ridiculous it seems to plant an entire fishing enterprise in an ocean of sand, we know, somehow, we’re going to warm to the idea. Ewan McGregor’s Alfred Jones is a man of science; he’s not particularly interested in faith, deities, or leaving reality in the hands of fate. The sheikh, by comparison, is deeply spiritual. He never entertains the prospect of failure. The goal, in and of itself, is inspired by faith. Interestingly enough, there are times when the sheikh appears doubtful, but these moments are quickly tucked away, perhaps to be analyzed in private, as he rests in his luxurious bed, staring through the skylight at a ceiling of stars. To the rest of the world, the sheikh is simply a visionary; his is centered and humble, full of old world wisdom and generosity. Jones is quietly inspired but remains true to his methodical roots.

Emily Blunt’s Harriet is neither religious nor scientific. But she exudes a certain light, as if she is fueled by a romantic heart. In many ways, she is a little girl, still looking at the moon and making wishes. She is a believer because she wants to believe; she wants a miracle to happen, if for nothing else than to prove that the world is a mystical place, not the lifeless, uninspired mass of Jones’s logical mind.

Salmon Fishing in the Yemen is very much a modern Aesop’s Fable. It feels slightly biblical, like a tale meant to teach doubters a valuable lesson. At the root, it is about faith, those who have it and those who need it. Visually, the film is pleasant to watch. Audiences are given a widescreen view of different parts of the world. To an extent, there is underlying message of tolerance for other cultures. In the wake of 9/11, people of Middle Eastern descent have suffered a great injustice, simply because they resemble (if only in skin tone) the perpetrators of the attack. Because of this, many Americans still hold a silent grudge and refuse to believe that anything beautiful could originate from that part of the world. This film proves otherwise. Not only do we get breathtaking views and a better understanding of another lifestyle, but the shots of Scotland, Morocco, and London (filming locations) are truly spectacular.

Unfortunately, this film is not for everyone. The quirkiness of the title and a lack of promotion are causing it to slide out of theaters unnoticed. Though there was a respectable amount of people in attendance with me, the film is unlikely to garner the respect it deserves. There are elements of comedy and romance mixed with intrigue and enough good feeling to last months. For an intelligent audience who can appreciate such things, Salmon Fishing in the Yemen is 107 minutes well spent. For everyone else, well, there’s always the Real Housewives of (insert city of your choice here).

The first time I saw the teaser trailer for The Hunger Games, I said to myself: “Oh that’s the book I always see in the store.” I had seen the Suzanne Collins novel a handful times and never even considered that it was geared toward young adults. As a matter of fact, there are a lot of novels out there that shouldn’t be for young adults. I recently finished reading Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children, and when I learned it was written for young people, I felt a bit stupid. I mean, what happened to the books of my youth….like Encyclopedia Brown? Those used to be young adult books. Now they center on kids killing each other while everyone watches like voyeurs. That’s not to say I didn’t enjoy the movie; I did enjoy it, but in the interest of honesty, there are a few other things I want to mention.

Katniss Everdeen (Jennifer Lawrence) is a tough, young girl living in District 12, a poor, rural West Virginia-like wasteland. She is extremely close to her sister Primrose (Willow Shields), so close in fact, that she is willing to risk her life to protect her. We quickly learn that her district is part of a larger area, the Capitol, which holds an annual death match called The Hunger Games. The premise is relatively straightforward: each year, one boy and one girl are chosen by Effie Trinket (Elizabeth Banks) to represent their district. Once all of them have been chosen, they are given celebrity treatment and trained for a short period of time, all in preparation to fight each other to the death. There can only be one victor; everyone else will die. The Capitol’s present, President Snow (Donald Sutherland) oversees it all; the Capitol’s main television personality, Caesar Flickerman (Stanley Tucci), seems to take tremendous pride in flashing his bleached teeth to the camera while reporting on the proceedings. Everything is masqueraded under the banner of normalcy.

Long story short, Primrose Everdeen is chosen from the girls’ pool in District 12. To save her sister’s life, Katniss volunteers to take her place. Katniss is adept at hunting with a bow and arrow, so at the very least, she believes she has a better shot at surviving. The boy from her district, Peeta Mellark (Josh Hutcherson), is slightly timid. Together, they are swept into the limelight, along with 22 other “tributes” (kids chosen from other districts), and made to feel special. The higher-ups of the Capitol brainwash the kids into thinking that being chosen is an honor. In actuality, they are like sacrificial pawns in a longstanding, demented Olympics. When the games finally get underway, nearly half of the tributes are immediately killed by their overzealous counterparts. Katniss takes off into the woods, partly on the advice on Haymitch Abernathy (Woody Harrelson), a mentor and former Hunger Games winner. Her plan is to wait, to plan, to think logically, rather than try to rush around and kill everyone off. For the duration of the games, Katniss will have to live by her wits…or die.

Right off the bat, this seems like a really interesting premise. Hollywood isn’t too keen on depicting children being murdered. They have no problem with homicidal children (that goes back to 1956’s The Bad Seed), but when it comes to kids being the victims, it’s usually a no-no. So that alone sets this film apart. But if you’re someone who has watched films for a long time, you’ll notice similarities between The Hunger Games and its predecessors. The most obvious similarity, at least in my opinion, is with 2000’s Battle Royale. In that, school children are forced by the Japanese government to fight each other to the death. Sound familiar? I suppose it could have unintentional, but seeing as how The Hunger Games’ demographic would most likely have no knowledge of Battle Royale, or any Japanese film for that matter, it’s a safe plot to “borrow.” That aside, this was an entertaining film. I did have a slight problem with how some of it dragged along. For example, there were a number of scenes that could have been cut; most of them centered on Katniss walking around, doing nothing in particular.

One other area that I feel could have been shortened was the period of time leading up to the games. So much effort was put into the build-up that one expects a large, explosive finale. Instead, the games arrive mid-movie, start off quickly, and then hit quicksand. Had some of this been truncated, I think the movie would have been much more effective. Lastly, everything supposedly takes place in the future. The Capitol certainly looked futuristic with its intricate cityscape, and the people were definitely from another world. The outfits, colors, and makeup were straight out of a Tim Burton film, with a live action cartoon thrown in for good measure. However, none of this seemingly applied to District 12, which looked like it had been trapped in the Great Depression since the 1930s. Granted, I didn’t read the book, so maybe all of that was explained.

For her part, Jennifer Lawrence did well. Her character was a lot like the one she played in Winter’s Bone. I find her to be a good actress, but she may be typecast in these homely-girl, rough and tumble roles if she isn’t careful. I enjoyed Stanley Tucci’s goofy character; his facial expressions and blue pompadour made him the center of attention. Cast-wise, The Hunger Games was well-acted. The movie was largely entertaining; I just feel it could have been tightened up more.

I love a good comedy but I seldom find one. The new school of comedy is far from the days of classic Saturday Night Live. There are a few exceptions, but for the most part, newer movies that attempt to make us fall over laughing just end up falling short. Here we have Channing Tatum, usually found in romantic films or blockhead roles, playing something completely different. Along with co-star Jonah Hill, Tatum revives the 1980’s cop drama 21 Jump Street for the big screen; and for the first time in a long while, I laughed out loud.

The back story to this unlikely duo is fairly simple. Jenko (Tatum) is one of the most popular kids in high school. He’s big and jockish with long hair that makes him look like Buddy Revell from Three O’Clock High (I’ll be impressed if anyone understands that reference). Schmidt (Hill), by comparison, is the nerdy, overweight, laughing stock. He even dyes his hair blond and wears a white t-shirt to capitalize on the Eminem craze of the late 90’s. Given their differences in popularity, Jenko and Schmidt are like arch enemies. When Schmidt is humiliated after asking a girl to the prom and Jenko is pulled into the principal’s office to learn of his failing grades, the two find themselves side by side drowning in their respective miseries. Fast forward years later, both men have joined the police force. Jenko is, of course, better at the physical aspects of police training, while Schmidt excels at the written tests. Realizing they need each other to graduate from the academy, they forget their teenage quarrels and become friends.

Despite their delusions of grandeur, of shoot-em-up car chases and pulsating masculinity, Jenko and Schmidt become bike cops and spend their days cruising around the park. But they are determined to change that. A quick altercation with the 1 Percenters, a motorcycle gang, lands the new cops their first arrest. Trouble is, Jenko can’t remember the Miranda rights; as a result, the arrest doesn’t stick, and the two become the problem children of the police force. Already in danger of losing their jobs, Jenko and Schmidt are ordered to report to 21 Jump Street, the location of an abandoned church, where a new assignment awaits. Here, they find Dickson (Ice Cube), a brash, tell-it-like-it-is Captain with no patience and an amusing talent for idiom. The job is straightforward; Jenko and Schmidt will go back to high school for an undercover sting operation. A recent wave of drug trafficking has taken place, and they are to infiltrate the different cliques to find the heads of the operation. Right away, a popular student named Eric Molson (Dave Franco) is suspect. Peddling an acid-like hallucinogen, Eric becomes the target of the investigation, though it’s clear that it runs far beyond him.

I have just described a plot that could very well be a serious film. To the contrary, it is one of the most hilariously funny movies I’ve seen in the last year. There is a great deal of wit in the script; the amount of one-liners is staggering. I refer to this kind of movie as a hit in flop’s clothing. On the surface, it blends into a sea of movie releases, almost under the radar, and can easily be overlooked if not for word of mouth. I don’t recall a lot of promotion behind 21 Jump Street, nor do I expect it to be nominated for any Oscars. But this is a film for a good night out, and in case I didn’t already mention it, it is ridiculously funny.

Channing Tatum does nicely for not having a ton of comedy in his filmography. He seems to have a natural flair for this kind of role, almost as if he’d wanted to do comedy all along, and had been stuffed into roles that didn’t really fit him. Here, he looks at home, as it were, pulling adolescent hijinks and laughing about it under his breath. We almost forget he’s supposed to be symbol of female desire; he’s more like one of the guys, someone you hang out with, a buddy that enjoys a good prank. Jonah Hill wasn’t bad either. Gone are the “fat kid” roles that made him well-known; Hill plays the absurd, witty observer, combining dry humor with quirkiness, kind of like Tina Fey meets Woody Allen. Paired together, Tatum and Hill work extremely well. Also, Ice Cube is really entertaining. His character’s no-nonsense attitude and intricate insults are like the icing on this cake.

21 Jump Street has a few cameos of note, specifically Johnny Depp and Holly Robinson Peete, obviously thrown in for their roles on the original television show. I recommend it; it made me laugh repeatedly, and that’s not easy to do.