Marvel Studios started as a novel concept. Headed by Kevin Feige, the group was asked to take control of Marvel’s own comic-to-big-screen incarnations and make them more faithful to their source material, as well as develop continuity between their projects.

It’s the kind of criss-cross universe comparable to that of their comics that made geeks salivate at the mouth. They even started off pretty well. “Iron Man” had an inspired bit of casting in Robert Downey Jr. and ended up making $318.4 million domestically. They even threw in a cameo of Samuel L. Jackson as Nick Fury! Genius, I say.

Next came the more mediocre “The Incredible Hulk” which barely managed to top its Eric Bana-starring previous incarnation at the box office. But the films successfully began Marvel’s path to the upcoming “Avengers.” There were even rumors that “Hulk” star Edward Norton was so passionate about the character that he took on uncredited roles as both a producer and a screenwriter. He certainly wanted in on “Avengers.”

The company looked like it was different from the ignorant studios that seem to own Hollywood. They were giving fans what they wanted by hiring quality filmmakers and showing a dedication to the quality of their own projects–a live-action Pixar, if you will.

But the studio truly hadn’t been put to the test yet. Their next film was “Iron Man 2,” and it was a clunker if there ever was one. I mean, how do you mess up a film when you have Downey Jr., Jackson, Sam Rockwell and Mickey frickin’ Rourke!? Well, they managed to do it, alright. Audiences expecting the same smarts and energy as the first installment experienced shoddy storytelling, a plot that was not clearly fleshed out, and montages such as Tony Stark shooting lasers around a room and suddenly discovering a new atom… seriously?

What about the dark, alcoholic Tony Stark fans love from the comics? Why were actors like Rockwell and Rourke literally wasted, only performing in scenes necessary to move the plot forward but not to flesh out character? I mean, no one’s going to disagree that they are both excellent character actors.

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Actor Mark Ruffalo really wants to alienate right-of-center movie goers from this Summer’s potential blockbuster, “The Avengers.”

Ruffalo, the far-left actor and activist, is now injecting political messages into the super-superhero film. The film, about a gaggle of comic book characters who unite against a common threat to Earth, should be the kind of box office no-brainer Hollywood craves.

Not if Ruffalo, cast as the Hulk’s alter ego, Bruce Banner, has something to say about it.

“You have all these disparate egos, superheroes in this and that, and they refuse to give up some of their positions in order to make a more perfect union and to join the team,” Ruffalo says.

“That’s really what the whole movie is about: subjugating your own best interest momentarily to further that of the whole,” he says.

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“The Social Network’s” David Fincher is as plugged into our technological times as any director working today.

Who else could turn the dawn of Facebook into a crackling drama worth a second and third look?

But with the 2007 film “Zodiac,” based on the non-fiction book of the same name by Robert Graysmith, Fincher dials down the technology to tell the kind of murder mystery too often ignored by today’s storytellers.

Fincher’s trio of tonally disparate leads transform a potentially leaden narrative into one of 2007’s finest efforts. What a shame the film’s box office haul didn’t measure up to its excellence.

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The new Showtime series ‘Homeland’ is a CIA thriller based on the Israeli television series ‘Hatufim’ (Prisoners of War). The Israeli version follows two IDF reservists after they are released from 17 years of captivity in Syria and how their lives are different after returning home.

The American version, which airs Sundays at 10 p.m., centers on Carrie Mathison (Claire Danes), a strong but flawed CIA officer trying not to repeat mistakes that led to the 9/11 attacks. She learns from a condemned Iraqi informant that “an American prisoner of war has been turned.”

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As far as she knows, there are no American prisoners of war. Ten months later, U.S. Marine Sergeant Nicholas Brody, presumed dead for the past eight years, is recovered from Baghdad during a raid on a militant compound. Despite all of the pride flowing through the CIA and military circles regarding his recovery, Carrie immediately suspects Sgt. Brody is the “turned” American she had been warned about and begins an illegal surveillance of his home. The viewer is left to wonder who the villain really is.

Growing up in the 1980s, Hollywood never left you wondering who the bad guys were going to be. It was the Russians. The Americans were always the good guys, fighting against Communists to preserve the American way of life. In the years after 9/11 this is not the case.

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Even the Mainstream Media, a collective willing to forgive any and all flaws within the Occupy Wall Street movement, concedes the group’s message is a mess.

Enter Mark Ruffalo. The Oscar-nominated actor took time out of his schedule to give his thoughts on the nascent movement and why it exists in the first place.

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Maybe Mark Ruffalo is spending too much time on movie sets these days.

The intense actor, best known for his work in ‘The Kids Are All Right’ and ‘You Can Count on Me,’ is under the delusion his fellow actors could lose gigs if they embrace liberal causes like Occupy Wall Street. He told The Hollywood Reporter that celebrities who show up at the protests in New York City could be putting their paychecks at risk:

Ruffalo suspects a large number of celebrities who privately support the Occupy Wall Street critique are wary of publicly expressing that sentiment. They are “afraid for their job, afraid to speak out, afraid they’re going to lose work.” Plus, he adds, “Who needs the headache of being attacked by Fox News or Rush Limbaugh?”

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Read on as actor Mark Ruffalo expertly twists all the meaning out of words like  “American,” “democracy,” and “equality.”

The Guardian:

I have spent the last two days at the Occupy Wall Street gathering. It was a beautiful display of peaceful action: so much kindness and gentleness in the camp, so much belief in our world and democracy. And so many different kinds of people all looking for a chance at the dream that America had promised them.

When people critique this movement and say spurious things about the protesters’ clothes or their jobs or the general way they look, they are showing how shallow we have become as a nation. They forget that these people have taken time out of their lives to stand up for values that are purely American and in the interest of our democracy. They forget that these people are encamped in an urban park, where they are not allowed to have tents or other normal camping gear. They are living far outside their comfort zone to protect and celebrate liberty, equality and the rule of law.

It is a thing of beauty to see so many people in love with the ideal of democracy, so alive with its promise, so committed to its continuity in the face of crony capitalism and corporate rule. That should be celebrated. It should be respected and admired.

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Remove from this little family drama the gratuitous girl-on-girl sex, the guy-on-girl sex, and the ridiculously unnecessary and explicit images from a guy-on-guy gay porn film that no amount of hypnotism or bleach could ever erase from my mind, and what you have here is essentially a Lifetime Movie Channel melodrama with above average performances, especially from Annette Bening.  The film is pleasant enough but nothing here feels like cinema. You need something smarter than nudity and edgier than profanity to elevate a production into something bigger than a rote movie of the week.

Nic (Bening) and Jules (Julianne Moore) are a lesbian couple in a long-term, loving and committed relationship that from the outside looks perfectly idyllic. The two women live in a nice home in a nice Los Angeles neighborhood and are raising two teenagers of their own. The kids, college-bound Joni and the younger and the somewhat lost Laser, are products of a sperm donor but both kids love their moms and seem as well-adjusted as Wally and Theodore Cleaver.

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Beneath the surface, however, cracks are forming in the family’s foundation. Nic is the breadwinner, a physician who drinks too much and likes control over her environment and all those who inhabit it. Jules might be in her forties but she’s still looking for her place in the world, which is a nice way of saying she has trouble holding down a job. These pressures have taken the steam out of the couple’s sex life and undermined their emotional intimacy, and the person who will introduce the element that splits these cracks wide open is Laser. Now that they’re older, both kids are naturally curious as to who their real father is. Especially Laser,  who’s at an age where he’s missing and could use an actual father figure.

Because she’s eighteen, Joni is able to get the information on their donor daddy, Paul (Mark Ruffalo), the shaggy, hippy dippy owner of a organic food restaurant who’s something of a lothario (pretty much the same performance he gave in the vastly superior “You Can Count on Me“).  With his easygoing manner, Paul is a nice relief from the uptight Nic and the neurotic Jules, so the kids understandably take a shine to him and turn a blind eye to his self-centeredness. Though obviously jealous, Nic and Jules do their best to encourage the burgeoning relationship and to make Paul a part of their family. This ends up taking an ugly turn when a sexually frustrated Jules, who’s tired of feeling inferior to the much more successful and centered Nic, engages in heated sexual affair with Paul. (more…)

The Kids Are All Right, an indy film starring Julianne Moore and Annette Bening, examines the difficulties faced by two lesbians trying to raise children when a man enters the mix. But the man, played by Mark Ruffalo, is not just any man; he’s the donor whose sperm  helped create the two ‘kids’ of the title. 

You see, the son, Laser, wants to find out who the father is, but can’t because he’s only 15. So, he pleads with his 18-year old sister, Joni (named after Joni Mitchell; more on that later), to help him out. She resists at first, but eventually relents. Without spoiling anything, I’ll only say that the remainder of the movie involves all the twists and turns that any good movie uses to build the tension which eventually leads to a climax that leaves the audience breathless and the characters stocked up with new insights that ensure they will live richer and more honest lives.  Whew! In other words, your basic, garden variety Hollywood relationship movie;  well written, acted, and, photographed.

But, as Wilson Pickett once said: “Don’t let the green grass fool ya!” This is a smartly made and subtle contribution to the debate raging throughout the country that concerns gay marriage, civil unions, and gay rights in general. The director,  Lisa Cholodenko, is no rookie when making movies about same-sex relationships, and it shows in Kids. Given the chance at making a film with Hollywood heavies like Moore and Bening, most directors would wield a two-by-four instead of  Cholodenko’s scalpel. First and foremost, she shows when most would merely tell. (more…)

Among Hollywood’s many mind benders is the fact that a book and a movie can have the same title but not be the same story, while two or more movies can also have the same title and tell the same story — or not. I mention that because the new film, “The Kids are All Right” is not the same story as the book of the same title and neither have anything to do with 1979’s rock group in the raw documentary film about The Who, “The Kids Are Alright.”

Jules and Paul can't resist each other

In this “The Kids are All Right,” Nic (Annette Bening) and Jules (Julianne Moore) are a Hollywood stereotype lesbian married couple with two teenage children (Mia Wasikowska and Josh Hutcherson) who are basically getting along just fine until their kids contact Paul (Mark Ruffalo), their biological father, whose anonymously donated sperm impregnated each of their parents. As the children bond with Paul and his influence grows, Nic, the “husband” in the union takes offense: “I need your advice about child rearing about as much as I need a stiff dick up my ass!” Jules, the “wife,” does need something, however, and Ruffalo and Moore are soon engaged in very sweaty hetero screen sex.

I won’t spoil the ending. (more…)

Nearly every long-term couple hits some rough patches – periods in time where they lose their once-boiling attraction for each other and perhaps even forget what they loved about their partners in the first place. Phil and Claire Foster, a suburban New Jersey couple with two young kids and utterly boring careers, are a perfect example of this marital ennui.

In the new action-comedy “Date Night,” the Fosters (played by Steve Carell and Tina Fey) get a chance to break out of their rut in a big way when they pretend to be a couple called the Tripplehorns in order to snag a table at the hottest new restaurant in New York City. Before their meal is even over, two dirty cops (Common and Jimmi Simpson) have forced them into a back alley and threaten to kill the Fosters because the cops truly believe they’re the Tripplehorns and that the Tripplehorns are in possession of a very incriminating and valuable flash drive.

This case of mistaken identity leads the Fosters into the craziest night of their lives, one in which they’ll engage in a spectacular and hilarious car chase (frankly, one of the best ever staged on film), gunfights, break-ins, burglaries and even stripping (don’t ask) en route to rekindling their spark and realizing they have far more adventurous sides than they’ve ever realized. (more…)

Big movie twists are fine. I appreciate them when they work and sometimes even when they don’t. There’s all kinds of gimmickry in storytelling and The Twist has always been one of my favorites. Regardless, we all love a movie twist that knocks us out; a “Sixth Sense” kind of twist where (with the help of the filmmaker) you rerun the story in your mind and feel a great amount of satisfaction as the pieces all come together. Even less successful movie twists work on some level. The last reveal in “Unbreakable” might not have been a “Sixth Sense” wowser but is arguably successful within the context of its own world and without the specter of its predecessor might have received the respect it deserved.

In order for this kind of twist to work, however, a film must accomplish two things. First, the story shouldn’t require the twist in order for it to be successful. What precedes the twist should be stand-alone compelling – a good movie all on its own.  Second, the twist should make you want to see the film again, and as soon as possible, because now what came before takes on an entirely new dimension that requires another viewing to truly savor.

And this is where “Shutter Island” fails. *SPOILERS COMING*

The two hours or so to director Martin Scorsese’s Big Reveal is a long haul, especially after you lose all interest after the first thirty-minutes due to a narrative that never gels or grabs hold. The acting is fine and the look of the atmospheric production is top-notch in that foreboding kind of way (aided by Bernard Hermann-esque flourishes in the score). But the mystery of an escaped patient on a big spooky island simply isn’t all that compelling. Nothing makes much sense once the second act really gets going, and while the Big Twist does work in explaining what came before, the thought of reliving two muddled unfocused hours was the furthest thing from my mind. (more…)

Is it better to live as a monster or to die as a good man? It’s a central question revealingly asked only at the end of an emotional ride in Oscar-winning director Martin Scorsese’s latest film, “Shutter Island.” Set in 1954, Leonardo DiCaprio leads a strong cast as Federal Marshall Teddy Daniels, who visits a mental hospital while investigating the disappearance of a brutal female inmate. Ashecliffe Hospital, located at a former Civil War fortress on Shutter Island off of Boston’s harbor, is a haunting facility that Daniels believes is a cover for government-funded mind control experimentation. The fact that Daniels saw the horrors of such scientific experimentation as a soldier during World War II, and that the man responsible the death of his wife (Michelle Williams) is a resident of the mysterious institution spur his investigation, lending personal drive to his federal orders. 

But as migraine-fueled hallucinations intensify and the administration become increasingly secretive and restrictive, Teddy’s investigation forces him to confront the truth that the island’s doctors depict. And it’s ultimately left to the audience to decide what truly happened on Shutter Island. 

Set against the backdrop of a hurricane, nightmares are more terrific, sunshine more comforting—and scarce. Daniels and his new partner Chuck Aule (Mark Ruffalo) arrive at Shutter Island to an oppressive symphonic score making the gray skies and dreary buildings exaggeratedly eerie. But for the rest of the film, music plays masterfully to emphasize mystery—or in the film’s most tragic moment, its absence and the cheerful chirping of birds accentuate the heavy emotions of the moment, allowing audiences to focus solely on the performances of DiCaprio and Williams. Supported by a strong cast, “Shutter Island” has had the best acting I’ve seen in a film so far this year, and I doubt it will soon be beat.  (more…)

The payoff for sitting through a dozen craptacular releases is that one movie where you actually say, “Damn, that was worth the $11.50 and the kidney I spent to see it.”  As a modern moviegoer, you must be an eternal optimist.  You must hope against hope that the trailer you liked didn’t contain every single good scene and funny joke in the movie, and that the reviewer who raved isn’t covering up some pinko agenda that’ll make you choke out on your Goobers. 

You have to believe that out there somewhere is an action movie director who knows what a tripod is.  That there is a young lead actor who has never starred in a CW television series about beautiful but sensitive teenage male models with supernatural powers.  That there is a comedy screenwriter who can imagine a “funny” situation not involving a bodily fluid.  That Michael Cera will one day play a different character.

In that spirit, a spirit of Pollyannaish hope in the face of overwhelming evidence indicating that Hollywood’s product will almost certainly continue to demonstrate that evolution is a two-way street, I present ten movies that are coming within the next six months that might actually be good – or at least not make me throw things at the screen and slap around the ushers. (more…)