Review: "THE FIGHTER"

One of my favorite things about film criticism are the blurbs that you always see in the television commercials or print ads, where the marketing folks extract a glowing sentence praising the film in question. Of course, many of them are altered to better fit the advertisement, but I always get a kick out of the deliciously punny one-liners, especially from the hammy likes of Gene Shalit or the late Joel Siegel. If your attention isn't diverted to an article whose headline is something like "Ishtar Ishtarrible", then you have no soul.

But if there's any kind of film that's a gold mine for potential shameless review hooks, it's the sports genre-- more specifically, the boxing movie. Tell me you haven't seen a review of a pugilist picture without the words "knockout", "champion", or "contender" in the headline, and I'll call you a boldfaced liar. But for The Fighter, any of those three words would most definitely be an apt description of the latest film by director David O. Russell, a powerful and well-executed drama bolstered by a magnificent cast.

It's 1993, and Micky Ward (Mark Wahlberg) is an up-and-coming boxer in the town of Lowell, Massachusetts. Despite his drive and determination, however, Micky's track record in the ring is less than stellar, made only worse by the fact that he's still lingering in the shadow of his older half-brother Dicky Eklund (Christian Bale), who fifteen years earlier went the distance against Sugar Ray Leonard, becoming a local legend.

Even though Micky has a strong support system from his family and friends, including a manager in his mother Alice (Melissa Leo) and a trainer in Dicky, Micky's career isn't exactly going anywhere. His mom's rather controlling in her managerial style, and Dicky, way past his prime, is now an unreliable crack addict who's had multiple run-ins with the law.

After a particularly crushing loss, Micky begins to consider throwing in the towel and giving up his career. He's convinced otherwise by his new girlfriend Charlene (Amy Adams), a bartender who thinks Micky's lack of success is due to his family's overbearing influence. Micky must eventually choose between making real improvements in his career, or staying with his family.

Much like my attitude towards romantic comedies, I've recently become tired and disenfranchised with "heartwarming"/"inspirational" sports dramas, especially those based on true stories (even though considerable artistic license is taken in almost every film of the sort). They all usually follow a predictable, done-to-death formula that often times crosses the line into treacly Hallmark Channel sap. Having seen the somewhat lackluster trailer for The Fighter (which is also based on a real tale), I was expecting just more of the same.

Boy, was I wrong. What we have here is not so much a "boxing movie", but more of an intense study of familial relationships, loyalty, and high expectations in a vastly competitive world. The in-ring action serves more as window dressing (though still rather gripping).

I've never been a big fan of Russell's, but I decided to give this chance, mainly because of the all-star ensemble. And it's the best thing about the flick, with every cast member delivering brilliant performances. Mark Wahlberg (whom I still refer to and will always refer to as "Marky Mark"-- but in a loving fashion rather than a pejorative one) does a perfect job in a rare reserved role, all the more ironic considered the brutality his character engages in. His Micky is vulnerable, submissive to his family's wishes, and quietly resentful about still being in his famous brother's shadow.

Compounding those problems is his mother Alice, portrayed by a fantastic Melissa Leo (Frozen River), whose forceful and somewhat power-hungry demeanor belies a deep pain regarding her sons' situations, and a massive insecurity revealed when her control over Micky is challenged by his new flame Charlene, played by an equally terrific Amy Adams.

But the true knockout performance here (see? I myself fall victims to those oh-so-addictive puns) is from Christian Bale. Easily one of the best and most dedicated actors working today, I'm still flabbergasted that Bale has never been nominated for an Oscar. The man has had a highly versatile body of work, some of them great (Empire of the Sun, Rescue Dawn, 3:10 to Yuma), some of them shocking and unforgettable (American Psycho, The Machinist), and some of them unfortunate (Newsies). But the Academy will have no choice but to recognize Bale this time around.

Bale completely disappears into the role of Dick Eklund, both emotionally and physically. There's almost a musical quality to how Bale twitches, speaks, and even blinks, where we witness a man who's prisoner to his addictions and remains stuck in the past, constantly reminding others of how he went toe-to-toe with Sugar Ray, but in reality is just a tweaked-out shell of the man he used to be. It's a remarkable transformation for Bale, especially the weight he lost to play the role (though it's not the emaciated levels he reached with The Machinist).

In fact, the film's most telling and emotionally devastating scene centers around the unveiling of an HBO documentary that Dicky believed was about his supposed impending boxing comeback, but was really about the life of drug addicts. The reactions of the main characters watching the less-than-flattering special, especially that of Dicky and Alice, are absolutely heartbreaking. It's a powerful examination of how some tight-knit family units appear strong on the outside, but are extremely fragile and doomed to shatter on the inside.

However, the biggest fault of The Fighter is its predictability, a speed bump almost guaranteed for this kind of movie. We've seen this formula before countless times, but luckily, Russell manages to add a lot more realism and genuine characterization here than most other sports films. Aside from a somewhat underwhelming first third, The Fighter ultimately delivers, and then some, with an amazing cast, top-notch directing and screenwriting, and terrific boxing scenes. Though it's not the greatest boxing film ever (those honors still go to both Rocky and Raging Bull), The Fighter is-- yes, I'll say it despite my better instincts-- a true cinematic champion.

Letter Grade: "A-"

Review: "TRUE GRIT"

In the 1970's, there was an old car commercial explaining that there was nothing more American than "baseball, hot dogs, apple pie, and Chevrolet". An interesting conceit, rather memorable since the first three have always been synonymous with the good ol' U.S. of A. Of course, if you wanna split hairs, those three also actually originated in Europe before making it stateside. In fact, considering the melting pot nature of America, it's difficult to pin down what cultural and technological innovations are TRULY American in origin and isn't Made in China.

The same goes for motion pictures. Though much of the technology was perfected here in the States, it can be argued that cinema was officially "born" in late 19th-century France (or even centuries earlier in Greece if you count the non-recording camera obscura, but we'll leave that discussion to nerds with too much time on their hands). But if there's anything about cinema that we could truly lay claim as being as American as apple pie, er, Chevrolet, it would undoubtedly be the Western genre.

Hugely popular in the first half of the 20th century, westerns were iconic for their almost mythical storytelling (usually of a mysterious wanderer becoming the savior of a small town), morality tales, and the instantly recognizable images of gun battles, grand cinematography set against the harsh Southwestern American landscape, and the depiction of survival before the Industrial Revolution. But like any genre, Westerns gradually evolved, going from the clean-cut and sanitized John Ford movies to more gritty, revisionist, and brutal depictions of the the Old West that were clearly more accurate of that era. 

Soon enough, it seemed as though Westerns had died out, with Clint Eastwood's great Unforgiven apparently being the last of the herd. But thankfully, the cult favorite and Oscar-winning Coen Brothers (Raising Arizona, Fargo, No Country for Old Men) decided to breathe new life into the sagging genre with True Grit, a remake of the 1969 John Wayne classic that proves that when done with the right people behind and in front of the camera, a remake can not only be forgivable, but also a terrific piece of moviemaking on its own.

It's the late 1870s, and 14-year-old Mattie Ross (Hailee Steinfeld) has just identified the corpse of her slain father, who was recently robbed and murdered by infamous hired gun Tom Chaney (Josh Brolin). Though young, Mattie is mature for her years, and is highly determined to find her father's killer and have him brought to justice. As such, she tries to hire grizzled yet tough federal marshall Ruben "Rooster" Cogburn (Jeff Bridges) to track Chaney down, especially now that the criminal's escaped to unchartered Indian territory.

Mattie eventually convinces Cogburn to take the job, on her condition that she rides along with him. Waking up the next morning, she discovers that he's already headed off without her, but rather with Texas ranger La Boeuf (Matt Damon), who's been tracking down Chaney for months for the murder of a Texas senator. Mattie nonetheless catches up with them, dead set on finding her target. The three then trek through the hostile land, in hopes of finding both the elusive Chaney as well as "Lucky" Ned Pepper (Barry Pepper), an outlaw whom he's in cahoots with.

Best known for making quirky, weird, and definitely less-than-mainstream works, the Brothers Coen seemed to have decided to step out of their eccentric comfort zone to make their most mainstream film yet. Having previously toyed with the Western (albeit in a contemporary fashion) with their Oscar-winning No Country for Old Men, Joel and Ethan have clearly perfected their association with the Old West here. Even though Hollywood's been pumping remakes out the wazoo as of late, it would be considered especially egregious to lay hands on a John Wayne classic (especially one that garnered The Duke his only Academy Award win).

But even though it's been awhile since I've seen the 1969 film, there can be plenty of distinction between the two (and from what I've heard, the 2010 model is apparently more true to the 1968 Charles Portis novel than the original). The Wayne version was clearly tailored to fit Wayne's persona and somewhat limited acting style, therefore placing that film's main focus on the Cogburn character rather than on Mattie (as was in the novel).

Luckily, the Coens put Mattie back to the forefront, and they clearly couldn't find a better actor to fill her shoes than newcomer Hailee Steinfeld. Though being in her early teens and making her debut film performance, Steinfeld does a fantastic job portraying a plucky and determined teen wise beyond her years, yet way in over her head in regards to tracking down the man who murdered her dear ol' daddy. Steinfeld infuses in Mattie a maturity and strength that defies her youth, making for a terrific young heroine role we see too little of in movies nowadays (but clearly making a comeback this year, what with Chloe Moretz and Jennifer Lawrence making waves in Kick-Ass and Winter's Bone, respectively).

But of course, you need a merciless-yet-soft-on-the-inside tough guy to watch her back, and taking over The Duke's reins as Rooster Cogburn is the now-legendary Jeff Bridges. While Wayne's portrayal of Cogburn was essentially Wayne playing himself, Bridges took it even further, making Rooster the tough, liquor-pickled son-of-a-bitch of ALL tough, liquor-pickled sons of bitches. Bridges disappears into Rooster's skin, mannerisms, and especially voice, becoming what we would expect a 19th-century marshall to truly be and act like. It's a flawless performance of a truly flawed man that's all but guaranteed award nominations and even wins, and deservedly so.

Rounding out the cast is a funny Matt Damon (who's clearly and gamely content with handing the spotlight over to his aforementioned costars) as the Texas Ranger also after Chaney, played by Brolin, who isn't in the film as much as the ads and trailers imply.

Technical efforts are brilliant across the board. The cinematography by longtime Coen collaborator Roger Deakins is jaw-droppingly beautiful, capturing the harsh and haggard environs of the West, especially when our heroes enter the deadly no-man's-land of Choctaw territory. Carter Burwell's hymnal-heavy score is evocative of the Westerns of yesteryear, what with the usage of harmonicas and the "clickety-clack" percussion. Of course, the biggest achievement behind the camera is the Coens' razor-sharp screenplay, delivering intelligent but true-to-the-era dialogue and exposition. But most importantly, this True Grit shouldn't be considered a flat-out remake, but more of a genuine love letter to the beauty and grandeur of classic Western cinema.

Those who read my reviews know that even when I commentate on films I highly enjoy, I can still find things about them that I didn't like or think could have been improved upon. Not so here. Every cog, nook, and cranny of True Grit is absolutely perfect. It's also a reminder to Hollywood that when done right, with the right actors, directors, screenwriters, etc., Westerns can be considered not derivative and cliche relics of movies' past, but a true staple of both cinema and Americana. Action-packed, funny, poignant, and staggeringly superb in every which way, True Grit may very well resurrect the genre and everything great about it.

Now fill your hands, you son of a bitch.

Letter Grade: "A+"

Review: "TRON: LEGACY"

Even at my young age, it's amazing to reflect on how technology has not only evolved at an astounding rate, but has also integrated itself into not only our culture, but also as a significant means of survival and living day to day. From advances in the automotive, medical, and entertainment industries to the advent of the Internet and WiFi and iPhones and Facebook, technology is everywhere. Besides, when someone as stately and traditional as Queen Elizabeth II begins her own Twitter account, you know that tech isn't a mere novelty anymore.

In fact, I remember when I was first introduced to the Internet when I was 7 or 8 years old (you know, back when there was only one clunky computer in the house and how "Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego" was the "World of Warcraft" of the era), back when it was mostly about message boards and right before it became the fully-formed information superhighway it is today. The same could be said about video games. Before we were wowed with Playstation 3s and Wiis and Xboxes, we were enthralled with the likes of Super Nintendos, Commodore 64s, and of course, the granddaddy of the 1980s video game revolution, the Atari.

Though obviously dated and primitive-looking to the cynics of our generation, Atari was not only amongst a massive wave of technological breakthroughs in all known fields during the early '80s (Apple PCs, anyone?), but served as an inspiration to a separate but similarly groundbreaking sensation in the form of a 1982 movie called Tron.

Though not that commercially successful, the neon-heavy, dark, and somewhat surreal film about a computer programmer being transported into the very virtual world he created gained not only a cult following, but also served as a jumping board for future motion pictures in terms of special effects and sound design. It was also the first major motion picture to utilize computer-generated animation (an innovation that disallowed Tron from getting a Best Visual Effects Oscar nomination, since, according to the Academy at the time, it was "cheating").

So it's somewhat surprising that Disney took so long to produce a sequel, especially considering the leaps and bounds made in CGI and filmmaking in general (The Matrix, amongst others, clearly owes a heavy debt to Tron in terms of both technical wizardry and storyline). But with the bar that was set so high by last year's Avatar, it seemed that it was about time for Tron: Legacy to step up to the plate. And though its screenplay and motivations have much to be desired (much like the original), the out-of-this-world visual and auditory effects blow it out of the park, and then some (ditto).

Back in the mid-80's, Kevin Flynn (Jeff Bridges) was the CEO of software giant ENCOM, who was on his way to making enormous strides in technological innovations. Then, in 1989, Flynn mysteriously disappeared, leaving behind his young son Sam as an orphan. Today, as a rebellious and somewhat bitter 27-year-old (Garrett Hedlund), Sam is the majority shareholder of the company, but would rather commit acts of mischievous sabotage on the company's board of directors than step up as the big man in charge.

One night, Sam is confronted by Alan Bradley (Bruce Boxleitner), Kevin's old friend and former business partner, with news that he's received a page from Flynn's abandoned arcade (despite the number having been disconnected years earlier). Deciding to investigate, Sam discovers a hidden room underneath the building, and inadvertently activates a laser that digitally transports Sam into a strange, new world.

It turns out that this world is the Grid-- a physical manifestation of the computer world originally called "Tron" by Flynn, where computer programs and files are represented as human-like beings, and programs progress and send information via "vehicles", not to mention gladiatorial-like "games" taking place between armed programs. Captured by soldier-like programs and mistaken for a program himself, Sam is sent into said games, managing to survive. This perseverance, coupled with the realization that Sam is not a program but rather a "user", leads Sam into a confrontation with the program that serves as the Grid's leader: Clu (Jeff Bridges), a program physically resembling (and created by) the younger Kevin.

Before Sam can be killed by Clu's shock troops, the boy is saved by Quorra (Olivia Wilde), who takes Sam out of the Grid and out of Clu's jurisdiction. It's there that Sam is finally reunited with his father. Kevin (regarded as a deity of sorts by the programs not under Clu's control) reveals that years earlier, he designed Clu to help create a perfect virtual world, a purpose that Clu took too far and causing Kevin to exile himself. Clu became a genocidal despot, who aspires to retrieve Kevin's identity disc that could allow Clu and his army to escape the Grid and enter the real world.

Racing against time to return home, Sam decides to fight back against Clu and his crew of minions-- including Jarvis (James Fran), flamboyant nightclub owner Castor (Michael Sheen), deadly lieutenant Rinzler (Anis Cheurfa), and "siren" program Jem (Beau Garrett)-- in order to reach the needed portal and bring his long-lost father home.

Though incredibly excited to see Tron: Legacy months before its release, I made sure to keep my expectations relatively low. Though I was impressed with the original film from a SFX viewpoint (and keep in mind, I watched it with a 1982 point of view rather than a cynical 2010 point of view), the story and somewhat confusing execution wasn't as cutting-edge as the Lite-Brite visual mastery on display. As such, I maintained the same expectations for Part Two.

Though director Joe Kosinski made Legacy far more cohesive and easier to follow than Steve Lisberger's original, the rather shallow attempt at infusing a philosophical commentary on the desire to be perfect and the increasingly organic nature of technology in regards to supplanting natural science and religion didn't exactly hit the mark as intended. The same could be said what with the obvious allusions to religious mythology, especially Christianity (Sam serving as the salvation to the world that his Father created), Old Testament Judaism (Clu as the jealous and resentful devil who turns on his creator), and even Zen Buddhism (Kevin clearly being the Grid's own Dalai Lama of sorts).

But in the grand scheme of things, story clearly isn't what Tron: Legacy wants to have as its claim to fame: The real stars are the mindblowing special effects, sound design, and musical score. Miles ahead of the now-goofy-looking pixels and outfits of the first film, what we have here is a breathtaking 21st century reimagining of the Grid, a dark and neon-infused Oz where programs race to the death on sleek "light cycles" and duke it out with powered discs and lightsaber-like truncheons. Simply put, Tron: Legacy is the most gorgeous-looking movie I've seen all year.

The same amount of praise can go to the riveting score by cult electronica duo Daft Punk. Paying much homage to the synthesizer-heavy music of the 80's, their score is an absolute treat to the ears, and dare I say deserves some awards recognition in the coming months.

The cast itself is okay in their portrayals but not exactly stellar. Hedlund does well as the rebellious heir to the Flynn legacy, but is mostly two-dimensional in his performance. Bridges, effortlessly cool as always, does double duty as the modern-day Flynn, and the traitorous Clu (a performance achieved via digitial de-aging, which is fairly impressive save for the rare few moments when Clu's face becomes noticeably rubbery and unrealistic). Wilde, meanwhile, does a great job as the program loyal to Flynn, infusing in Quorra a human-like innocence when her character isn't kicking some serious ass. And Michael Sheen steals every scene he occupies as a flamboyant, Ziggy Stardust-like club owner.

Despite possessing but failing to realize its enormous potential to create a moving and thought-provoking dramatic juxaposition to all the jaw-dropping technical laurels (much like Inception and the first Matrix did), Tron: Legacy nonetheless seals the deal by providing some of the most gripping visual effects, white-knuckle action sequences, and overall aesthetic beauty I've seen in a film in some time. A treat to fans of the original (like yours truly) and to newcomers fresh to the franchise, Tron: Legacy is a welcome way to end the year in a visually explosive fashion.

Letter Grade: "B-"

Review: "DUE DATE"

I've never been a fan of road trips. Having grown up in Minnesota when the rest of my extended family lived in (and still lives in) Illinois, once or twice a year my parents, sisters and I would take an eight-hour trek southeast to visit grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, and whatever other numerous relatives we had. Though I was always certainly excited to see them, I always dreaded the drive itself. Most who know me agree that I'm naturally impatient, and despite having the convenience of Game Boys and comic books back then, the ride still seemed to go on forever.

But it was always fortunate that, for a third of a day, I was in a car with people who didn't (completely) annoy me. And to this day, I wonder if I could truly ever survive a road trip for a long amount of time with someone who bothered the holy bejeezus out of me, without the risk of me throttling them halfway through the journey.

It's that familiar concept that drives director Todd Phillips' raucous comedy Due Date, a buddy road flick that fails to completely match the comedic anarchy of Phillips' previous The Hangover, but still manages to stay afloat thanks to the terrific chemistry between its two lead actors.

Architect and expectant father Peter Highman (Robert Downey, Jr.) arrives at an Atlanta airport to fly home to Los Angeles and be with his pregnant wife Sarah (Michelle Monaghan), who's set to give birth via a C-section a few days later. Sitting behind him on the plane is Ethan Tremblay (Zach Galifianakis), an unkempt and bizarre aspiring actor who immediately gets on the high-strung Peter's nerves. An onboard misunderstanding caused by Ethan gets both men kicked off the plane and placed on the TSA's no-fly list.

Making matters worse is that Peter's wallet (including his credit cards and identification) was left on the plane, leaving him stranded in Georgia and far away from his wife. An exasperated Peter is forced to hitch a cross-country ride with Ethan to California, and along the way they encounter Ethan's drug dealer Heidi (Juliette Lewis), a short-tempered and wheelchair-bound war veteran (Danny McBride), the Mexican border patrol, and, in Texas, Peter's friend Darryl (Jamie Foxx), a famous athlete who arouses suspicion that he may or may not be the real father of Sarah's child. It takes all the strength Peter has to tolerate Ethan's goofball antics as the two race against time to make it to the birth of Peter's baby.

Hot off the astronomical success of The Hangover, director Phillips went back into the wild comedy well that served him well in the past (he also directed Road Trip and Old School), but despite his considerable talent as a filmmaker, the biggest flaw of Due Date is that it doesn't add much novelty to the whole comedy road trip concept, where the protagonists encounter various oddballs on the road and eventually clash with each other. The genre having been considerably mined by films like Dumb & Dumber, Cannonball Run, National Lampoon's Vacation, and of course the great Planes, Trains, and Automobiles, the proceedings here aren't that terribly original.

But like the aforementioned Steve Martin/John Candy classic, the true star and saving grace here is the pairing of the lead Odd Couple, this time personified by Robert Downey, Jr. and Zach Galifianakis. Downey, still on fire since his 2008 comeback to Hollywood's good graces with Iron Man, is fabulous as the ill-tempered, uptight, and somewhat volatile father-to-be who encounters one massive inconvenience after another. Downey blends in perfectly, once again proving that he's one of the finest and most versatile actors of his generation.

Playing his comic foil is a wonderful Galifianakis essentially replaying the role that (deservedly) garnered him mainstream attention in Phillips' previous The Hangover. As a sweet-natured yet utterly bizarre and childlike buffoon who dreams of making it big in Hollywood, Galifianakis manages to avoid being one-note by endearing himself to both the audience and (eventually) Downey's character. The two characters' personalities clash like oil and water, delivering some rather funny comedic setpieces, and there's even more emotional heft involved in Due Date than Hangover, especially in a surprisingly touching scene atop the Grand Canyon involving Ethan and his father's ashes.

Because this is Downey and Galifianakis' show, the rest of the relatively small cast doesn't have much to do. Monaghan's wife character is barely there (proving once again that Phillips doesn't know how to really flesh out his female characters), and Downey's The Soloist co-star Jamie Foxx abruptly appears halfway through the film, and then isn't seen again five minutes afterwards, which is all the more disappointing considering that the whole "who's the baby's father" subplot had more potential than it actually utilized. Lewis' cameo as a skanky pot dealer is slightly amusing but is ultimately forgettable (though an encounter between her character's son and Downey is shockingly hilarious).

Though just as potty-mouthed and destructive, Due Date doesn't match the amount of rapid-fire belly laughs that The Hangover so effortlessly delivered. There are laughs to be had, but the film ultimately falters because it can't do anything new with the conventions of that great cinematic genre, the road film. But thanks to the entertaining performances of its leads, Due Date can be a great distraction for backseat prisoners during one of those dreadful hauls on the highway.

Letter Grade: "C+"

Wrong Theater, at the Wrong Time

With the release of the penultimate Harry Potter film this weekend, it's no mystery where most of the next few days' box office dollars are going (in fact, as of this writing, Deathly Hallows: Part One has already made $24 million domestically-- from just the midnight shows).

So as I looked at the movie times in my local newspaper, I noticed another film that was also being released the same day as Deathly Hallows, a Russell Crowe thriller called The Next Three Days. Not surprisingly, I haven't seen nowhere near as many ads or promos for this movie compared to the latest boy-wizard extravaganza, and I ended up feeling sorry for the poor bastards who were told that their movie was to be released concurrently with a film that was all but guaranteed to make kajillions of dollars.

So since it's fairly obvious that The Next Three Days won't be making much moolah over the next three days (yes, I did plan that genius act of wordplay), I felt it would be rather appropriate to revisit some more little-films-that-could-but-ultimately-didn't that clearly got the shaft as far as getting prime release date real-estate in domestic theaters goes.

THE MOVIE: Day of the Dead

THE PLOT: As the surface world is being ravaged by zombies, a motley group of human survivors attempt to... well, survive.

THE RELEASE DATE: July 3, 1985 (limited release), July 19, 1985 (wide release)

THE COMPETITION: Some goofy time-travel flick starring that kid from "Family Ties"... Back to the Future, that's what it was.

WHO WON THE WEEKEND: Michael J. Fox proved to be both a television AND movie draw when the first BTTF made $19 million. Day only mustered $3.5 mil.

AND IN THE END? Despite legendary director George Romero's significant clout amongst Hollywood and moviegoers (and despite an expanded wide release), his zombie flick left American theaters with only $5.8 million. Back to the Future, on the other hand, kicked off its well-deserved legacy with $210.6 million.

THE MOVIE: Amazon Women on the Moon

THE PLOT: A satirical take on '50s and '60s -style low-budget B-movies.

THE RELEASE DATE: September 18, 1987

THE COMPETITION: The Michael Douglas/Glenn Close erotic thriller Fatal Attraction.

WHO WON THE WEEKEND: The Kentucky Fried Movie-style spoof stunk it up at the box office with only a $171,000 bow. Attraction took in $7 million (which is $14.6 million in 2010 dollars).

AND IN THE END? Despite its less-than-stellar opening, Fatal Attraction ended up attracting $156 million by its closing. Amazon Women's total was truly fatal at only $548,696.

THE MOVIE: Opportunity Knocks

THE PLOT: A con man (Dana Carvey) steals the identity of a millionaire's friend in order to score major cash.

THE RELEASE DATE: March 30, 1990

THE COMPETITION: The big-screen adaptation of the wildly popular Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles franchise.

WHO WON THE WEEKEND: Carvey's hot streak on "Saturday Night Live" wasn't enough to deter Turtle Power. Opportunity Knocks was clearly lacking in opportunity, opening with only $3 million. The Turtles blasted into the big time with $25 million.

AND IN THE END? The success of Wayne's World was two years away, so Carvey and Opportunity had to settle for only $11 million. Ninja Turtles shelled out a bodacious $135 million run, becoming (at the time) the highest-grossing independent film ever.

THE MOVIE: The Meteor Man

THE PLOT: An unassuming schoolteacher (Robert Townsend) is struck by a strange green meteorite, gains superpowers, and sets out to defend Washington, D.C. from street crime.

THE RELEASE DATE: August 6, 1993

THE COMPETITION: The Harrison Ford/Tommy Lee Jones action-thriller The Fugitive.

WHO WON THE WEEKEND: The superhero was ultimately no match for Harrison Ford's star power. The Fugitive opened with $24 million, while the critically-panned Meteor Man only claimed $2.6 million.

AND IN THE END? The obscure Meteor Man died an unheroic death with a meager $8 million, and The Fugitive ran off with a domestic haul of $184 million.

THE MOVIE: Lone Star

THE PLOT: A Texas sheriff (Chris Cooper) sets out to discover who murdered one of his predecessors (Kris Kristofferson).

THE RELEASE DATE: June 21, 1996

THE COMPETITION: Yet another animated blockbuster from the Disney juggernaut, this time the Victor Hugo adaptation The Hunchback of Notre Dame.

WHO WON THE WEEKEND: Despite great reviews, the Texas murder mystery lost out to Quasimodo's $21 million opener with only a $232,184 bow.

AND IN THE END? Once again, kiddie fare won the box office battle. Hunchback made $100 million in America, while Lone Star grossed only $12 million.

THE MOVIE: The Apostle

THE PLOT: An adulterous evangelical preacher (Robert Duvall) moves to Louisana with a new identity and begins a radio preaching career.

THE RELEASE DATE: December 17, 1997

THE COMPETITION: An obvious shipwreck also known as Titanic.

WHO WON THE WEEKEND: The well-reviewed Apostle clearly didn't have the Good Lord on its side, making only $29,396 on its first weekend. James Cameron's Leo DiCaprio-starrer, however, made a superior-yet-seemingly-paltry $28 million opener. And yet...

AND IN THE END? ...Titanic ended up riding on a huge wave of $600 million. The Apostle left theaters with only $20 million.

THE MOVIE: Digimon: The Movie

THE PLOT: Some humans encounter digital monsters from another world... or something like that.

THE RELEASE DATE: October 6, 2000

THE COMPETITION: The Ben Stiller/Robert de Niro comedy Meet the Parents.

WHO WON THE WEEKEND: Ben Stiller once again proved himself amongst the 18-24 demographic, with Parents bowing with $29 million. Digimon only nabbed $4 million.

AND IN THE END? Despite the then-mind-bogglingly-enormous popularity of the similarly-themed and similarly-annoying Pokemon franchise, Digimon didn't have a leg to stand on, leaving theaters with only $9.6 million. Meet the Parents meanwhile scored with a final run of $166.2 million (and its 2004 sequel, Meet the Fockers, made history by becoming the highest-grossing live-action comedy of all time with $279 million).

THE MOVIE: Saving Silverman

THE PLOT: Two pals (Jack Black and Steve Zahn) try to derail the upcoming nuptials between their friend (Jason Biggs) and his manipulative girlfriend (Amanda Peet).

THE RELEASE DATE: February 9, 2001

THE COMPETITION: Ridley Scott's Hannibal, the long-awaited sequel to 1991's Oscar-winning The Silence of the Lambs.

WHO WON THE WEEKEND: Even though Silverman boasted a popular cast (including American Pie's Biggs and High Fidelity's Black), Hannibal Lecter cannibalized the weekend's box office gross with a huge $58 million. Silverman's take? Only $7.4 million.

AND IN THE END? Despite the mixed reviews compared to Lambs, Hannibal made a killing with $165 million. Silverman couldn't be saved, though, with only $19 million to its name.

THE MOVIE: The Wash

THE PLOT: Two stoners (Snoop Dogg and Dr. Dre) find work at a run-down car wash, sell pot on the side, and deal with a uptight boss (George Wallace).

THE RELEASE DATE: November 16, 2001

THE COMPETITION: Oh, just the first entry in a most-likely-to-fail fantasy series called Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone.

WHO WON THE WEEKEND: The incoming Hogwarts' prodigy destroyed his cannabis-obsessed competition with a $90.3 million opening haul, while The Wash only mustered a pathetic $2.9 million.

AND IN THE END? Sorcerer's Stone obviously paved the way for Mr. Potter's future success by making a final domestic gross of $317 million, becoming the highest-grossing film of 2001. A huge critical drubbing only made matters worse for The Wash, which ended its run with only $10 million (though its budget was only $7 million, ensuring at least a tiny profit).

THE MOVIE: Deuces Wild

THE PLOT: A street tough (Stephen Dorff) and his gang engage in a bloody war with a rival gang in 1950s Brooklyn.

THE RELEASE DATE: May 3, 2002

THE COMPETITION: Only a swingin' superhero by the name of Spider-Man.

WHO WON THE WEEKEND: This gang war was tremendously one-sided. Deuces didn't make a dent with only $2.7 million. Spidey, on the other hand, saved the day (or weekend, as it were) with a massive (and then-record breaking) $114 million.

AND IN THE END? A large ensemble cast and a producer in Martin Scorcese couldn't save Deuces Wild, which made a pathetic final $6 million. Spider-Man owned the entire year of 2002 with a total haul of $403 million.

THE MOVIE: The In-Laws

THE PLOT: A podiatrist (Albert Brooks) discovers that his daughter's future in-laws (Michael Douglas and Candice Bergen) are really CIA agents.

THE RELEASE DATE: May 23, 2003

THE COMPETITION: Jim Carrey's "jerk-becomes-God-for-a-week" comedy Bruce Almighty.

WHO WON THE WEEKEND: Are you kidding? The Majestic notwithstanding, a Carrey movie guarantees a huge box office steal, this time with $67 million. The In-Laws were left in the dust with $7.5 million.

AND IN THE END? Carrey's massive star power clinched the final victory, earning a heavenly total of $243 million, while The In-Laws flatlined with $20 million.

THE MOVIE: Alfie

THE PLOT: A playboy (Jude Law) deals with the repercussions of his various affairs and romantic dalliances.

THE RELEASE DATE: November 5, 2004

THE COMPETITION: Pixar's latest in its line of genius animated classics, the superhero homage The Incredibles.

WHO WON THE WEEKEND: The remake of the Michael Caine classic couldn't make a headstart, only gaining a $6.2 million opener, while The Incredibles blew away the competition with $70.4 million.

AND IN THE END? Not even the dapper good looks of Jude Law could bring Alfie any more than $13 million. Meanwhile, The Incredibles grossed a whopping $261 million.

THE MOVIE: Murderball

THE PLOT: A documentary focusing on the intense rivalry between the American and Canadian quad rugby teams, leading up to the 2004 Paralympics.

THE RELEASE DATE: July 8, 2005 (limited release), July 22, 2005 (wide release)

THE COMPETITION: Marvel's latest superhero blockbuster, Fantastic Four.

WHO WON THE WEEKEND: Even though Murderball opened to rave reviews, the limited release only gained $57,000. The critically-panned Fantastic Four managed to claim a $56 million opener.

AND IN THE END? Murderball only cost $300,000 to make, therefore technically making a profit with a final haul of $1.7 million. But that's mere peanuts compared to Fantastic Four's $154 million domestic take.

THE MOVIE: Lucky You

THE PLOT: A Vegas poker player (Eric Bana) with daddy issues meets a fledgling singer (Drew Barrymore). Romantic goings-on ensue.

THE RELEASE DATE: May 4, 2007

THE COMPETITION: Spider-Man 3. Good movie or no, it's no contest.

WHO WON THE WEEKEND: Luck was not in the cards for Lucky You, which bowed with $2.7 million. Spider-Man 3 scored a major jackpot of $151 million.

AND IN THE END? Lucky You faded into obscurity with $5.7 million, while Spidey swung all the way to the bank with $336 million.

THE MOVIE: Space Chimps

THE PLOT: Some talking monkeys are launched into space. I think that's about it.

THE RELEASE DATE: July 18, 2008

THE COMPETITION: The chimps got double-teamed by both the Batman flick The Dark Knight, and the musical chick flick Mamma Mia!.

WHO WON THE WEEKEND: The monkeys didn't stand a chance in Hell. While they made only an opening haul of $7 million, The Dark Knight broke records with a heroic $158 million opening, while Mamma scored $27 million for second place.

AND IN THE END? Clearly, talking monkeys aren't as popular as they used to be. Space Chimps only made a $30 million total, while Mamma Mia! finished with $144 million, and The Dark Knight claimed 2008 with an astronomical $533 million total.

THE MOVIE: Shorts

THE PLOT: A group of kids discover a magical, wish-granting rock, sending a suburban town into disarray.

THE RELEASE DATE: August 21, 2009

THE COMPETITION: Quentin Tarantino's highly-awaited WW2 epic Inglourious Basterds.

WHO WON THE WEEKEND: Even though Shorts was directed by Robert Rodriguez (whose previous Spy Kids franchise proved to be consistent successes), its $6.4 million opener was no match for Rodriguez' buddy Tarantino's $38 million bow.

AND IN THE END? Basterds proved to be Quentin's highest-grossing film to date, hauling in $120.8 million by the end. Shorts truly came up short with $21 million.

THE MOVIE: Did You Hear About The Morgans?

THE PLOT: A soon-to-be-divorced couple (Hugh Grant and Sarah Jessica Parker) are forced into Witness Protection after witnessing a murder.

THE RELEASE DATE: December 18, 2009

THE COMPETITION: A little film called Avatar.

WHO WON THE WEEKEND: The formulaic comedy didn't have a chance. It opened with only $6 million, while James Cameron's first film since 1997's Titanic (the highest-grossing film in history at the time) bowed with $77 million.

AND IN THE END? Are you kidding? Where have you been? While The Morgans exited theaters with a mere $29 million, Avatar beat the shit out of all kinds of box office records, gaining a final take of $760 million, beating Cameron's Titanic record and becoming the biggest-grossing movie of all time.

Review: "THE HUMAN CENTIPEDE (FIRST SEQUENCE)"

In an era where violence has reached an all-time gratuitous high in cultural media like movies and television, there is some validity to the notion that every generation has become more desensitized to brutality and obscenity in entertainment than the last. After all, a little film called Gone With the Wind engendered massive controversy when Clark Gable uttered the word "damn" in the movie's classic finale. And that was in 1939.

But with the increasingly lax censorship in movies over the following decades, it became much more difficult to shock the audience. This was especially true with horror movies. Over thirty years ago, the vomit-spewing chills of The Exorcist gave the audience nightmares for days afterwards. Now, modern viewers would cynically scoff at how it's supposedly "not scary". In 1984, the moviegoing public was easily freaked out by the bloody antics of Freddy Krueger in A Nightmare on Elm Street. Today, an unnecessary amount of sequels (and a reboot) have eliminated the original's novelty and primary source of terror. What's worse, audiences nowadays just settle for shallow, gore-heavy "torture porn" that does away with psychological horror (and a decent plot) and merely throws guts and viscera at us consistently for 90 minutes.

But despite the current dearth of horror movies that fail to grab ahold of our psyche and help reveal our hidden fears (not to mention provide an engaging and three-dimensional story), there are always some films that manage to slip through the cracks and do just that. There was the hugely successful low-budget  mock-documentary The Blair Witch Project, the spooky 2001 psychological thriller The Others, the 2004 remake of the pioneering zombie film Dawn of the Dead, and the terrific Swedish vampire drama Let the Right One In.

Then in 2009, avant-garde director Lars von Trier released a highly (and rightfully) controversial picture called Antichrist. Widely considered to be one of the most disturbing movies ever made, Antichrist (despite getting mixed reviews, including from yours truly) made good on its surreal and explicit premise, combining shock value and cerebral mindfuckery to elicit the emotional and visceral reaction horror flicks are meant to create.

But now it seems as though von Trier's film may have stiff competition in the "Oh-My-God-What-The-Fuck-Am-I-Watching" department with the release of Dutch filmmaker Tom Six's The Human Centipede, a revolting, stomach-churning body-horror extravaganza with an ultimately ambiguous narrative purpose.

In Germany, American friends Jenny (Ashlynn Yennie) and Lindsay (Ashley C. Williams) are touring the country, and experience a flat tire at night in the middle of nowhere. The two girls are encountered by a stoic and disconcerting man named Dr. Josef Heiter (Dieter Laser), who shelters them in his house and allegedly arranges for the rental car service to pick them up. What the women don't realize is that the doctor has drugged their water, and the two black out.

They awake in Heiter's basement, strapped onto hospital cots, where they discover that they're being held captive alongside a trucker (Rene de Wit). The doctor ominously states that the trucker "isn't a match", and murders him in front of the terrified women with a poisonous IV injection. After being drugged again, Jenny and Lindsay reawaken to see that the trucker's been replaced with Japanese tourist Katsuro (Akihiro Kitamura).

The twisted Heiter explains to his three prisoners that though he's acclaimed for his work in separating Siamese twins, he truly desires to engineer the exact opposite: a "human centipede", where three humans are stitched together mouth-to-anus, sharing a single digestive tract.

If that last paragraph doesn't sicken you, I don't know what will. The very premise of the film merely written on paper is nauseating, and it's certainly high-concept in the most extreme fashion. I will give director Six props for crafting a premise that's wholly original in a day and age where horror movie plots are dreadfully similar and lacking in originality. After all, how often do we NOT see a fright flick where a masked killer or monster stalks and butchers scores of vapid, horny teenagers?

But like those films, The Human Centipede fails to help us connect with the poor souls forced to participate in this horrific experiment. The characters played by Yennie and Williams are one-dimensional, made worse by the fact that they're unable to speak for the entire second half of the film (aside from muffled screaming and sobbing). As the front "segment" of this "centipede", Kitamura has a slightly meatier role, but that's not saying much.

In fact, the obvious scene-stealer is German actor Dieter Laser as the sociopathic surgeon who commits such an unspeakable act. Devoid of emotion or sympathy and single-mindedly obsessed with committing a medical breakthrough, Laser's Dr. Heiter is an effectively creepy villain. 

His actions could easily be interpreted as a commentary on the sadistic medical experiments performed by the Nazis during the Holocaust, but as a whole, it's difficult to determine if there's any subtext present at all. The film may be Cronenbergian in an aesthetic sense, but it lacks the underlying social critiques that David Cronenberg snuck into his equally disturbing movies such as The Fly and Naked Lunch.

If Centipede has anything in its favor, it wisely uses obstructive camerawork most of the time to stray from the explicit imagery of the human monstrosity on display, instead relying on making the audience use their imagination vividly. Just hearing Dr. Heiter explain to his future victims, in full medical detail, as to how he'll perform the procedure is repulsive enough to merit a use of a barf bag.

In all fairness, The Human Centipede was clearly tailor-made to be a future cult hit. The title and premise alone guarantee that subtlety and finesse will be thrown out the window, and it's surreal enough to assure that it'll earn a place in midnight movie circuits across the country. But the film's biggest flaw (ass-to-mouth-stitching-concept notwithstanding) is that it's not really that novel, and is surprisingly conventional in its execution, despite seemingly trying to be different in a crowd of horror movies that are all too similar, and the attempts at sick humor usually falls flat due to the concurrent usage of serious dramatic terror.

But if Six's primary intention was to just gross us out, then he succeeded wildly. Disgusting, stomach-churning, and completely lacking in any sense of decency or visually conservative principles (but a must-see for the strong-stomached and coprophagia aficionados), The Human Centipede is certainly one-of-a-kind amongst its terrifying cinematic brethren, but whether or not this is ultimately a good thing is anyone's guess.

Letter Grade: "C-"

Review: "JACKASS 3D"

As a budding (and, hopefully, soon-to-be ridiculously wealthy and influential) movie critic, one of my objectives when I write a review is to find any positive aspects I find in a movie and weigh them against the negative. Though there are many good movies and many more bad movies, I try to be the kind of critic who is always the eternal optimist (regardless of how good or awful the flick is), rather than becoming the stuffy and elitist arthouse snob many moviegoers stereotypically envision such commentators as being.

Of course, it's difficult not to be cynical considering the increasing amount of dreck Hollywood churns out every week. From brainless and predictable action movies to exceedingly awful "spoof" movies that inexplicably make a hefty profit, I almost envy my older peers in the reviewing biz who got to live in an era where the great-to-lame movie ratio was in favor of the great films. But nonetheless, I think everyone should be allowed their own guilty pleasures when it comes to entertainment, even us uptight film snobs.

For me, one of those guilty pleasures was the "Jackass" franchise. Born of a subversive skateboarding magazine called "Big Brother" in 2000, the brainchild of actor Johnny Knoxville, director Jeff Tremaine, and Oscar nominee Spike Jonze (Being John Malkovich) was one MTV's most popular and controversial shows, essentially a deranged, frat-boy twist on "Candid Camera", where a motley troupe of skate punks and daredevils prank each other and an unsuspecting public with silly, disgusting, and dangerous stunts.

Though a nightmare for horrified parents and social conservatives, the show was a huge hit, running for three seasons. Naturally, the big screen beckoned, resulting in 2002's Jackass: The Movie, which was a surprise box office hit (despite essentially being a hour-and-a-half episode of the TV show). Two spin-off television shows, "Wildboyz" and "Viva La Bam", followed, capped off by the silver screen return of the Jackass crew in 2006 with Jackass: Number Two, which was an even bigger success (commercially and, surprisingly, critically).

Even though it's damn near impossible to intellectualize Jackass (really, how can you apply conventional logic to wading in a septic tank or getting shot in the crotch with paintballs?), it's actually not a stretch to think of the franchise in a way that doesn't simply categorize it as brainless juvenilia with an emphasis on male nudity and poop humor. In fact, in many ways, the enthusiastic and sometimes highly clever antics of Southern rogue Knoxville and his merry band of masochistic misfits could even be considered transgressive performance art, a seamless blend of "Three Stooges" slapstick and John Waters-esque trash cinema.

Also, it's just really funny. Any group of idiots could film themselves getting kicked in the nuts, but what sets the Jackass crew apart from any other group of extreme-stuntists is the brotherly and even endearing camaraderie they share.

And it's that kind of cathartic-yet-cringe-inducing humor that brought about an inevitable third entry, appropriately titled Jackass 3D, appropriate both because it's obviously the third in the series, and also because it's yet another movie leaping on the 3D bandwagon.

All the gang's back, what with Knoxville, Bam Margera, Ryan Dunn, Steve-O, Chris Pontius, Ehren McGhehey, Dave England, Jason "Wee Man" Acuna, and Preston Lacy suffering for their childish art in various ways. And as usual, there's no storyline here, but just a collection of stunts, sketches, and pranks now captured in gloriously disgusting 3D (which is how the movie was filmed, rather than shooting it in 2D and converting it in post-production, which has proven in previous films to not work out so well).

Though Jackass 3D is timely considering that it's the franchise's tenth anniversary, that very fact is possibly what's wrong with the movie. The entire cast is in their mid-to-late 30's, and though the frathouse rapport and creativity is still there, there seems to be not as much daring or desire to push the envelope, a desire that made the TV show and first two films so fascinating. Though there's a plethora of bone-crunching stunts and comedic setpieces (a giant "high-five"and a hysterical midget bar brawl being the highlights), they're few and far in between. And some of the novelty has worn off, especially since we've already seen so much of this before.

3D lacks the guerilla home-video charm of Jackass: The Movie, as well as the clicks-with-precision comedic anarchy of Number Two. There's also too much emphasis on showing off the 3D tech, taking away some of the series' trademark spontaneity.

That's not to say that the technological innovations aren't a plus at times. After a special animated intro featuring two classic MTV jackasses, 3D literally starts off with a bang. The brilliantly destructive opening and closing sequences make rich use of the third dimension, not to mention great use of super-slow-motion camerawork (reportedly running at 1,000 frames per second), where you can see in full detail the impacts of huge boxing gloves punching people in the face, or sex toys being launched straight at the camera with a cannon (if anything, Jackass 3D is the first film in history to claim the use of dildo bazookas in slow motion). The 3D in the main portions of the film aren't utilized as much, though some scenes need to be seen, preferably though the cracks of one's fingers, to be believed. If the Academy Awards ever introduce a category for Bravest Performance in a Port-a-John, Steve-O would be an immediate frontrunner.

Despite lacking some of the genius and rebelliousness that made Jackass what it is, this offering is still a gleefully shameless exercise in potty humor and crotch shots. There's the testosterone-heavy stunts, the overabundance of vomit and fecal matter, the comedic homoeroticism, and the feral charm of nine dudes just having a good time, regardless of whatever stupid things they're doing (and they're doing a good job, considering that the film has more outright belly laughs than any other comedy this year).

It's clear from the performers' ages (and a sentimental and nostalgic end credits roll) that this is most likely the end for the Jackass team, and even though there was much more untapped potential to make Part Three as good as or better than the terrific Number Two, Jackass 3D does an admirable job ending on a high note.

Letter Grade: "B-"

Review: "THE TOWN"

There's nothing more poetic than a story about second chances. We all make mistakes-- some small, some big-- but in the end, everyone deserves a shot at redemption if they truly want it. While this theme is always fodder for great fictional stories, it's even better when it happens in real life.

And probably one of the greatest career redemption stories belongs to none other than one Ben Affleck. A talented actor and Oscar-winning screenwriter, Affleck was one of the biggest heartthrob superstars in Hollywood, landing many leading roles in multimillion dollar blockbusters, not to mention the paparazzi buzz that comes with such territory. But then from 2003 to 2004, a high-profile relationship with a certain pop star and ill-advised roles in the atrocious flops Gigli and Surviving Christmas seemingly stopped Affleck's career in its tracks.

But unlike many Hollywood stars who would blindly carry on and foolishly hope that they could salvage their careers, Affleck laid low for a while, married Jennifer Garner (a much more stable and appreciated "Bennifer" than the previous one), and began his return to Hollywood's good graces. He started with an acclaimed supporting role in the 2006 noir thriller Hollywoodland, followed the next year by a terrific directorial debut in the form of Gone Baby Gone, and now The Town, a gripping and engaging sophomore effort about a man who, like Affleck in real life, attempts to redeem himself and begin life anew.

The Boston neighborhood of Charlestown is considered the bank robbery capital of the America, not to mention an equally high rate of armored car stickups. One of the more infamous perpetrators of these crimes is Doug MacRay (Ben Affleck). A former hockey prodigy and recovering alcoholic, Doug clearly couldn't escape the shadow of his criminal father Stephen (Chris Cooper), who's currently serving several life sentences.

With his best friends James "Jem" Coughlin (Jeremy Renner), Albert Magloan (George "Slaine" Carroll), and Desmond Elden (Owen Burke), Doug works under the employ of Irish drug lord Fergus Colm (Pete Postlethwaite), who was also Stephen's boss, and the four thieves have just robbed a Cambridge bank. The masked crooks escape by taking a hostage in the form of bank manager Claire Keesey (Rebecca Hall). Even though she's released unharmed, Jem worries about her going to the Feds since she lives four blocks away from the crew. Doug keeps an eye on her, and initiates a relationship so he can find out what she knows.

However, Doug doesn't expect to fall for Claire, a complication exacerbated by not only his on-again-off-again relationship with Jem's junkie sister Krista (Blake Lively), but also Doug's budding desire to quit the criminal life and leave Charlestown. This desire isn't met by enthusiasm by either the volatile Jem, or Fergus, who's plotting a huge robbery at Fenway Park. As Doug keeps his criminal ways secret from Claire, he must contend with his crew, employer, and FBI agent Adam Frawley (Jon Hamm), who's getting even closer to cracking down on Doug's crew.

As evidenced by previous crime thrillers such as Mystic River, The Departed, and Affleck's own Gone Baby Gone, the city of Boston has served as a rich backdrop for gritty, hardboiled cops-and-robbers tales. Even though crime procedural films are a dime a dozen, The Town (based on the Chuck Hogan novel "Prince of Thieves" and scripted by Affleck, Aaron Stockard, and Peter Craig) separates itself from the medicore bunch by focusing more on the robbers than the robberies. Namely, the themes of how no matter how much a person wants to change, his enviroment and the people he surrounds himself with makes such goals seemingly impossible.

In the lead role, Affleck does a fine job playing the troubled protagonist, a formerly promising hockey star who threw it all away when the family business invariably caught up to him. It's obvious that he lacks enthusiasm for his line of work, unlike his ruthless boss, played with sinister glee by Postlethwaite, or his trigger-happy lieutenant, played by a fantastic Renner (a performance that's easily the best of the bunch). Owen Burke and Irish rapper George "Slaine" Carroll do well as Doug's other crewmembers, but Rebecca Hall and "Mad Men" heartthrob Jon Hamm can't do much with their love interest and cop roles, respectively.

Luckily, The Town's action sequences are marvelous, exquisitely choreographed and masterfully edited, proving once again that there aren't many things more exciting in movies than a good bank heist followed by a car chase. It's all appropriately brutal and bloody, but never done in an excessively exploitative way. Of course, this film is no Heat, but it does its job. But the most impressive thing about The Town is Affleck's direction, which suggests an increasing maturity and surprising skill with a genre that demands both qualities. Though it's too early to say that we may have a new Clint Eastwood on our hands (as far as actors becoming directors goes), it's certainly not outside the realm of possibilities for Affleck cement his status as such a performer.

Though not really breaking any new ground as far as crime dramas go, The Town is nonetheless a superb entry in a growing list Beantown-set thrillers, with a its protagonist's redemption story mirroring that of the film's director's revived career. Congratulations, Mr. Affleck: consider Gigli a thing of the past.

Letter Grade: "B+"