Review: "COWBOYS & ALIENS"

Even though it might not seem like it on the surface, the genres of science-fiction and the western have a lot in common. In fact, previous depictions of both the Wild West and the fictionalized colonization of deep space could even be considered similar on a thematic and philosophical level: the exploration of new frontiers; the development/intrusion of new technology and discovery of primitive (or not-so-primitive) civilizations; and a general sense of lawlessness where it's every man for himself.

It's striking similarities like these that have resulted in surprisingly successful marriages of the two genres in pop culture. Gene Roddenberry pitched the concept of "Star Trek" to NBC as "a Wagon Train to the stars". The original Star Wars possessed a distinguishing "used galaxy" feel of that screamed "western", with its rogue gunslingers and saloon-esque cantinas. And the television series "Firefly" (and its movie follow-up Serenity) took it even a step further by transposing post-Civil War settings of many Westerns onto its own mythos via similar dialogue, costuming, and even weaponry.

But what made the above examples work so well was the fact that they didn't actually ATTEMPT to be both sci-fi AND western. The films and shows were still predominantly science-fiction, and any western-esque trappings layered upon the movie were subtle enough as to not make you wonder if the film you're watching was directed by John Ford or George Lucas. But director Jon Favreau (Iron Man) clearly didn't get that memo, and as such, his awkward mash-up of the two genres make Cowboys & Aliens a bizarre, distracting, and overall less-than-engaging affair.

It's 1873, and a man (Daniel Craig) awakens in the Arizona desert with no memory of who he is or how he got there, and on top of that, he has both a large wound on his side and a strange metal bracelet attached to his wrist. Heading off to the small settlement of Absolution, the injured man is treated by the local preacher and doctor Meacham (Clancy Brown). The stranger learns quick that Absolution isn't the happiest place in the world, thanks to the influence of wealthy and aggressive cattleman Woodrow Dolarhyde (Harrison Ford), whose delinquent son Percy (Paul Dano) regularly causes trouble in Absolution without any punishment.

That is, until the amnesiac man subdues Percy and causes the boy to be arrested by Sheriff Taggart (Keith Carradine). Taggart is suspicious of this stranger, and soon recognizes him as outlaw Jake Lonergan, who's been wanted, among other things, for stealing gold from the elder Dolarhyde. Jake, adamant that he remembers nothing, is captured and about to be sent off to the Feds when strange ships in the sky begin attacking Absolution and abducting various townspeople, including Taggart and Percy. Jake manages to down one of the alien craft when his strange bracelet suddenly fires a blast of energy at it.

With the pilot of the downed craft on the run, Dolarhyde forms a posse to track it down and find the abducted townspeople. Joining him are his Native American right hand man Nat (Adam Beach), Meacham, Taggart's grandson Emmett (Noah Ringer), saloon owner Doc (Sam Rockwell), and a reluctant Jake, as well as the mysterious Ella (Olivia Wilde), who seems to know more about Jake's predicament than she's letting on.

Based on a 2006 graphic novel by Scott Mitchell Rosenberg, Cowboys & Aliens seemed cool on paper. After all, the two titular characters are classic imaginative bait for the 8-year-old boys in all of us, and really, haven't you always wanted to see... well, cowboys fighting aliens?!

It seems as though Favreau did, and at first, that seemed like a good thing. The actor/director has had a short but reliable track record for sci-fi films with plenty of childlike enthusiasm, with the space fantasy Zathura and the excellent Iron Man (and its not-as-excellent-but-servicable sequel). But Favreau made a huge misstep by making the endeavor WAY too serious and not capitalizing on the inherent goofiness of such a high concept premise.

And in its foolhardy attempt at seriousness, Cowboys & Aliens strays from the correct path of joy and purposeful silliness to superficiality and unintentional silliness. And Favreau and his team of five (yes, FIVE) screenwriters seem to be interested in throwing classic, by-the-numbers Western cliches at you rather than steeping the film in the mythology that made the genre so venerable. You could almost write a checklist of expected genre staples on display, all of which amount to cinematic posing that's as hollow as the sets the movie were filmed on (not to mention a slightly uncomfortable allegorical comparison of the besieged townspeople to real-life American Indians in terms of being assailed by superior technology. In a movie with a plot as ridiculous and ill-conceived as this, it's best to leave the racial and political commentary to the wayside).

The cast doesn't really salvage the proceedings much, either. Daniel Craig (this year's Oscar nominee for Best Glowering) goes overboard with the super-serious "Man With No Name or Memory" schtick, his eyebrows permanently furrowed and his frown suggesting Botox gone berserk. Harrison Ford continues the snarly-old-man routine that he's seemed to resign himself to in this latter part of his career, and Olivia Wilde (a.k.a. "that hot chick from Tron Legacy") apparently seems to be winning a "who can open their eyes the widest and longest" contest possibly instigated by the filmmakers. It's even more damning to the film's cred when you can't even get a memorable performance out of the usually fantastic Sam Rockwell, who's relegated to the less-than-admirable role of a chickenshit barkeep.

The visual effects and sound design, however, are top notch, even if the design of the alien invaders are less than revolutionary and merely perfunctory. The cinematography by Matthew Libatique proves once again that Westerns (even subpar ones such as this) are always the best-looking and most eerily beautiful of all the genres, but gimmickry such as this can only take you so far. Cowboys & Aliens attempts to walk in the majestic footsteps of Ford, Leone, and Eastwood and fails in almost every respect.

That's not to say that Favreau and Co. didn't try, and their intentions are admirable. But in the end, this marriage of genres got cut short with a messy divorce. Cowboys & Aliens? Try Oil & Water.

Letter Grade: "C-"

Review: "THE HANGOVER PART II"

Sequels have always been a risky business in Hollywood. Let's get one thing straight: the primary reasoning for producing sequels has and always will be the allure of big box-office green. Regardless of whether or not the original was good or bad, if it made bank, producers leap at the opportunity for even bigger bucks.

But therein lies the problem: if it's almost a surefire bet that fans of the original will flock back, will it matter if the sequel's any good? Sure, some filmmakers have made a concerted effort to make their Part Twos (or in rarer cases, Part Threes) bigger, better, and artistically superior to the original in every which way (The Godfather Part II, The Dark Knight, The Empire Strikes Back, to name a few). But unfortunately, most follow-ups pale in comparison to their predecessors, with the studios only throwing in a few novelties and surprises in a lazy attempt to "spice things up" (every single horror sequel that isn't Evil Dead).

And then there are those movies that are SO lazy and sure of their success that they don't even attempt to create a new story at all. Imagine a complete carbon copy of a movie, maybe with a change of scenery and a couple new characters here and there, but with the exact same story structure, twists, and overall formula. Now imagine this sequel to be a follow-up to a movie so clever, original, and cathartic that you wouldn't believe in a million years that the filmmakers wouldn't have at least SOME tricks up their sleeves for the next installment. That movie, my friends, is The Hangover Part II.

It's been a couple years since four friends-- schoolteacher Phil Wenneck (Bradley Cooper), dentist Stu Price (Ed Helms), groom-to-be Doug Billings (Justin Bartha), and his bizarre manchild of a future brother-in-law Alan Garner (Zach Galifianakis)-- survived a drug-and-booze fueled bachelor party  and hangover in Las Vegas, where (among other things), Doug went missing; Stu lost a tooth and briefly married a stripper; the group kidnapped boxer Mike Tyson's pet tiger; and Alan, Phil, and Stu were caught in the crosshairs of Asian gangster Leslie Chow (Ken Jeong).

Despite all their problems being resolved and Doug getting married, the incident left a rather bad impression on Stu. His impending nuptials to his fiancee Lauren (Jamie Chung) are taking place in her family's home country of Thailand, and though he's invited Phil and Doug to the ceremony, he's reluctant to take Alan along since he was the cause of the escapades in Vegas. But Stu hesitantly agrees to take him with, and the four set out for Thailand along with Jamie's younger brother Teddy (Mason Lee).

The night before the wedding, the guys (at Stu's reluctance) secretly take Teddy out for a night on the town. But the morning after, Stu, Phil, and Alan wake up in a strange Bangkok hotel room, with no idea how they got there. While Doug remained at the wedding resort, the trio have no idea where Teddy's gone. With a severed finger, a drug-peddling monkey, and a fresh new tattoo on Stu's face in the mix, the guys race against the clock to figure out what happened and track down Teddy in the bustling city before the wedding.

When the first Hangover was released in the summer of 2009, it was considered by many (including yours truly) to be a breath of fresh comedic air: a raucous, side-splittingly funny anarchic comedy featuring a trio of terrific lead performances, instantly quotable scenes and sight gags, and an overall aura of nonstop, Animal House-style gross-out fun that seems oh-so-rare in most "humorous" movies nowadays. Budgeted at a mere $35 million, it went on to become not only a critical hit, but also the highest-grossing R-rated comedy in history ($467 million worldwide, to be exact).

And obviously, that's where director Todd Phillips saw opportunity, and fast-tracked a sequel. And he brought back the whole gang, reuniting Cooper, Helms, Galifianakis, and even decided on an exotic change in locale for the "Wolfpack's" latest adventure. The only problem? Nothing's changed. Seriously, nothing has changed.

Even though we're in the streets of Bangkok instead of Vegas, Part II is the exact same movie as the original. There's the impending wedding. There's the drug-caused blackout. Somebody important to the main characters goes missing. Ed Helms' character gets facially mutilated. There's drug dealers, animal hijinks, Ken Jeong doing his effeminate naked gangster bit, unfortunate actions with strippers, an end credits photo highlight reel, the list goes on and on.

It's quite unfortunate, really, that Phillips and screenwriters Scot Armstrong and Craig Mazin didn't take any chances whatsoever with the story, considering how surprisingly original the first film was. The sequel had plenty of potential, especially seeing how the camaraderie between the three leads is still potent, and though there are sprinklings of funny and even shocking moments, the film as a whole feels recycled and lacking in novelty. It doesn't help that the humor in Part II seems more mean-spirited and unnecessarily dark, and almost completely lacking the sense of frathouse joy that permeated the first film.

Being a huge fan of the first Hangover, this new installment felt like a cinematic slap in the face, purely content with more of the same when it could have been so much more. Clearly not the hair of the dog that it was intended to be, The Hangover Part II is one such party that you probably WON'T be fondly remembering after the nausea goes away.

Letter Grade: "D"

Review: "YOUNG ADULT"

Let the record be shown that high school was not an ideal time of my life. As a socially awkward nerd with virtually no stock in that most prized adolescent possession-- popularity-- the majority of my teenage years clearly did not serve as my glory days. Bitter, jaded, and swearing revenge, I spent the rest of my life in my dank, ominous cave which reeked of Cheetos and Shasta cola, plotting my earth-shattering vengeance against the jocks and prom queens who reaped the benefits of being pretty, socially acceptable, and hygienic.

Okay, the second half of that paragraph wasn't exactly true (except for maybe the Cheetos thing, but really, can you blame me?). But high school definitely served as a major catalyst of change for me and probably everybody else who was unfortunate to experience it. After all, social politics superseded education in importance during those days, and many teenagers (and still some adults) believe high school to be the ultimate arbiter in cementing one's emotional and social destiny.

Or is it? After all, the miracle of social networking sites such as Facebook or MySpace have allowed us to witness how much our former classmates have changed. Some personalities may have matured. Some folks got married and had kids (or the other way around). Some went on to great collegiate and/or professional careers. And some, unfortunately, wallowed in the selfish, hard-partying mindset that was oh-so-cool back in the day, and refused (either consciously or subconsciously) to grow up.

That's the dilemma that fuels Young Adult, a bleak yet satisfyingly dark dramedy from the Juno team of director Jason Reitman and screenwriter Diablo Cody.

37-year-old Mavis Gary is a Minneapolis-based ghostwriter for the once-successful young adult book series Waverly Prep, and is racing towards a deadline with her editor (voice of J.K. Simmons) to send in the manuscript for the series' last installment. Living alone with only her dog as a companion, Mavis one day receives an e-mail celebrating the birth of her old high school flame Buddy's (Patrick Wilson) daughter.

Still pining for Buddy after all these years, and incensed that she isn't still with him as she believes it should be, Mavis decides to drive back to her hometown of Mercury, Minnesota and take Buddy back for herself. Under the pretenses of overseeing a real estate deal, Mavis manages to set up a reunion with Buddy at a dive bar for the next night, but while waiting in the meantime, she unexpectedly reunites with former classmate Matt Freehauf (Patton Oswalt), who's still suffering from a limp and lower-body mutilation caused by being brutally tortured by bullies years earlier because they thought he was gay.

Matt learns of Mavis' selfish plan, and despite warning against her trying to destroy Buddy's blissful marriage with his wife Beth (Elizabeth Reaser), he and Mavis form an unlikely friendship. As Mavis continues on with her brazen goal to seduce and regain Buddy and relive her high school glory days, she must confront not only a town that's changed greatly since she abandoned it, but also her own self and the arrested emotional development that seemingly everybody but her seems to notice.

It's very rare to go into a movie and openly despise a protagonist even though they're... well, the protagonist. Sure, it's common and even pleasing to have a character with flaws that grounds them and makes them relatable to the audience, but that clearly wasn't enough for director Reitman and scribe Cody, whose work here is probably her most mature and well-thought-out to date, most likely due to the virtual lack of the "quirky hipster" talk that permeated Juno (which was good despite it) and Jennifer's Body (which was bad because of it).

It's also a testament to the acting skills of Charlize Theron, seeing how an incredibly gorgeous actress like herself is able to make Mavis completely unattractive by virtue of heavy personality flaws alone. Her Mavis is clearly stuck in her late teens despite pushing 40, and even though she's carved out a successful living for herself professionally, her personal live is a shambles, flooded with booze, one-night-stands, and a clear disdain for life and people in general.

It's a fascinating character study, and despite having probably no redeeming qualities whatsoever (or perhaps because of it), the character is a good examination on the themes of growing up, the inability for some to overcome psychological damages, and moving on with one's life after failing in one's goals or dreams.

Even better (and more pleasantly surprising) is comedian Patton Oswalt as Mavis' old classmate and polar opposite. His character Matt went through hell in high school (where Mavis was at her best), but is now at peace with where life brought him (again, vice versa). Possessing the conscience and humility that Mavis sacrificed to retain her social status, Oswalt serves as the film's heart and soul. Despite admonishing Mavis for living in the past and plotting to destroy a marriage, Matt clearly has wounds (physical and emotional) that don't seem to have healed.

Quite frankly, Young Adult will not be for everyone. Many might be turned off by the rampant unpleasantness of Theron's character, as well as the bleak, misanthropic tone in general (indeed, the black comedy factor could stand to kick up several notches in some parts), but the overall themes of clinging to adolescence, confronting one's past, and learning to move on still ring true, and thus makes Young Adult an engaging (if not decidedly entertaining) watch.


Letter Grade: "B"

Review: "THE MUPPETS"

One of the problems I've had with many films aimed at children in recent years is the fact that little to none of the material allows the parents or other adults dragged along to even slightly enjoy the proceedings for which they paid upwards of $20 for. I'm not saying that the filmmakers need to throw in violence, naughty language, or sex to keep the grown-ups from rolling their eyes at the obnoxious/cloying/infantile material, but if studios such as Pixar have proven anything, you can certainly sprinkle in an ample amount of sly humor, intelligent storytelling, and pop-culture references to keep the adults entertained while staying wholesome enough for the kiddies to watch.

Having grown up watching their films and reruns of their eponymous 1970's variety show, this adult-friendly aspect was what allowed me to still appreciate the adventures of Jim Henson's Muppets by the time I was an adult. Even though the exploits of Kermit the Frog, Fozzie Bear, Miss Piggy, et al. were always silly, goofy, and other similar adjectives, there was always a sense of self-referential reflexivity and knowing (almost subversive) humor that managed to put a goofy smile on faces of those of us who are beyond elementary school.

And despite Henson's untimely death in 1990, the Muppets (who were purchased by Disney in 2004) stayed strong with a variety of theatrical and made-for-television films, specials, and maintaining their position as a cultural mainstay for children of multiple generations. And thankfully, we get to add one more generation to those exposed to Henson's creations with the simply-titled feature The Muppets, a hilarious, sweet, and highly nostalgic theatrical comeback for Kermit and Company.

Growing up in Smalltown, U.S.A., Gary (Jason Segel) and Walter (performed by Peter Linz) are brothers and close pals, but as they grow up into adults, there's a little problem: while Gary grows to be a normal adult man, Walter remains a Muppet-sized individual. But while growing up, Walter discovered The Muppet Show, becoming it's biggest fan.

In the present day, Gary is planning to celebrate his and his girlfriend Mary's (Amy Adams) ten-year anniversary by going to Los Angeles, and despite Mary's slight reservations, Walter tags along, with hopes of seeing the now defunct Muppet Theater. Walter becomes discouraged to see that the Theater's now a dilapidated, empty relic, and is even more distressed when he hears that evil businessman Tex Richman (Chris Cooper) is plotting to take control of the Theater and raze it for the oil deposits that are underneath.

Determined to save the Theater, Walter, Gary, and Mary manage to track down former Muppet host and leader Kermit the Frog (performed by Steve Whitmire). Despite the Muppet crew having broken up and becoming estranged years earlier, Kermit is convinced to try to round up the old gang and broadcast a telethon in an effort to raise $10 million so the Theater can be bought back before the deed expires.

With help from Gary, Mary, and Walter, Kermit recruits old friends such as Fozzie Bear (performed by Eric Jacobson), now a stand-up comic in Reno; the Great Gonzo (performed by Dave Goelz), who currently runs a plumbing empire; and Kermit's old squeeze and current editor of Vogue magazine, Miss Piggy (performed by Eric Jacobson). With time running out, the Muppets do all they can to reignite The Muppet Show and save their old home from Richman's nefarious plans.

Not having appeared on the big screen since 1999's Muppets from Space, it was unclear whether or not the Muppets could make a grand splash into not only cinemas, but also a new generation of children who were unlikely to have been exposed to the characters in the age of iPhones and YouTube (well, unless they were privy to the brilliant Muppets cover of Queen's "Bohemian Rhapsody" released two years ago). But thankfully, one of the reasons behind the never-aging Muppets' longevity was their ability to adapt to the pop culture, technology and trends of whatever era they inhabited.

Director James Bobin and screenwriters Jason Segel and Nicholas Stoller realized this, and as a result successfully managed to meld both nostalgia and modern pop sensibilities into one, big act of what's essentially fanservice to both old fans and new recruits. And it's that tried-and-true sense of idealism that once again gives The Muppets their heart. We get all the requisite life lessons ranging from the importance of friendships (embodied by the Muppets getting the band back together after years of being apart) to being true to yourself (Walter having to decide whether he's man or Muppet).

What's better is that the tone never gets cynical or pessimistic, and instead celebrates the idealism Henson and his creations embraced. The catchy, original musical numbers are top-notch (though a climactic reenactment of the classic "Rainbow Connection" manages to get a wistful lump in the throat, as it did over thirty years ago), the humor is rife with plenty of pop culture references (Gonzo's chickens clucking to Cee-Lo's "F*ck You"? Yes, please) and self-parody, and the performances by both humans and Muppets are absolutely delightful to watch.

Both Segel and Adams do a fine job as the overly chipper couple thrust into the Muppets' predicament, as does the usually stoic Chris Cooper as the dastardly tycoon intent on capitalizing on the Muppet Theater (and breaking out into wholly unexpected gangster rap solos extolling the virtues of cynicism in contemporary society. Trust me, it's hysterical). The various celebrity cameos (a classic Muppet staple) are funny and numerous, including Jack Black as a sponsor for a now-tame Animal in an anger management therapy group, Foo Fighters frontman Dave Grohl as a drummer in a crummy Muppets tribute band, Emily Blunt as Miss Piggy's no-nonsense receptionist, and, natch, Neil Patrick Harris as himself, wondering aloud why he wasn't naturally chosen to host the telethon ceremony.

But the whole flesh-and-blood human element could've been excised entirely, and the film still could've been a blast to watch with just those charming felt puppets on display. It's just a pleasure seeing Kermit and pals back in action and knowing that they're free from the pitfalls of aging and losing relevance. Breathing new life into a beloved franchise without betraying the original heart and soul that made the characters what they are, The Muppets is proof that even though some references may fly over the kiddies' heads, it's a very small price to pay when you can go to a movie that both children and adults can agree upon in terms of sheer entertainment value.

Letter Grade: "A"

False Starts in Tinseltown

Being the highly competitive business that it is, finding a career in Hollywood is certainly no easy task. For many, it takes years of paying dues and breaking one's back with bit parts and small paydays before gaining real exposure amongst the Hollywood elite (for example, it took Paul Giamatti twelve years to get his first lead role in a film, and Morgan Freeman waited twenty-three years to finally get top billing).

But based on what we've seen in theaters, it seems as though the younger you are, the better chances you have at blasting to the top of the Hollywood stratosphere in little to no time (give or take a handful of small parts in movies or television beforehand), especially when you're good-looking and/or precocious enough (and also, yes, sometimes talented). After all, how many sustained careers were started on a high note at a young age? Leo DiCaprio, Natalie Portman, Dakota Fanning, Joseph Gordon-Levitt, and Matthew Broderick are just a few of the stars who hit it big before drinking age and still see no end in sight.

But what about those would-be superstars whose first exposure as a potential household name didn't really foreshadow a long, successful profession in Hollywood? Here's a look at some young (or once-young) actors and actresses whose careers didn't exactly live up to the hype of their "breakout" roles.

RALPH MACCHIO

First Exposure: A small supporting role in the 1980 comedy farce Up the Academy.

Career Takeoff...? Macchio first turned heads in Francis Ford Coppola's drama The Outsiders in the supporting role of Johnny Cade, followed the next year as the lead role of Daniel LaRusso in the hugely successful martial arts classic The Karate Kid.

What Happened? Karate Kid's success instantly turned Macchio into a teen idol, and despite appearing in 1986 and 1989 sequels to the movie that made him a star, Macchio's career waned afterwards, being relegated to mostly supporting or bit parts in movies and TV by the 1990s. Macchio did find some success on stage, as well as guest roles on shows like Ugly Betty and Entourage.

JONATHAN KE QUAN

First Exposure/Career Takeoff...?: A few years after immigrating with his family from South Vietnam to America, Ke Quan made his first foray into Hollywood as Indiana Jones' young sidekick Short Round in Steven Spielberg's 1984 Indy sequel The Temple of Doom. A year later, Ke Quan picked up the role of tech-whiz Data in the Spielberg-produced family adventure classic The Goonies.

What Happened? After Goonies, Ke Quan attempted to continue his acting career, but with little success. He had a lead role in the low-budget 1991 martial arts movie Breathing Fire, as well as a small role in 1992's caveman comedy Encino Man. Aside from working as a stunt choreographer on X-Men (2000) and Jet Li's The One (2001), Ke Quan couldn't salvage his career since then.

MIA SARA

First Exposure: Ridley Scott's 1985 fantasy film Legend, playing Tom Cruise's love interest Princess Lily.

Career Takeoff...? The next year, Sara appeared opposite Matthew Broderick as his eponymous character's girlfriend Sloane in John Hughes' much-beloved teen comedy Ferris Bueller's Day Off.

What Happened? After Bueller, Sara toiled in B-movies and direct-to-video flicks and guest spots on various TV dramas. She did have a major role in the Jean Claude Van Damme sci-fi film Timecop, for which she earned a Saturn Award for Best Supporting Actress, and from 2002 to 2003, she starred as the supervillain Harley Quinn in the WB's short-lived superhero drama Birds of Prey.

ALEX WINTER

 

First Exposure: Winter's first Hollywood roles consisted of bit parts in Death Wish 3 (1985) and The Lost Boys (1987).

Career Takeoff...? Winter, alongside a young Keanu Reeves, found huge success as lovable slacker Bill S. Preston in 1989's comedy cult classic Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure, which was followed in 1991 by the slightly less successful sequel Bill and Ted's Bogus Journey.

What Happened? Despite teaching an entire generation to be excellent to each other, Winter (unlike Reeves) sadly didn't have the most excellent career after the Bill and Ted craze died down. Winter tried his hand at writing and directing (most notably helming the unnotable 1993 comedy Freaked), and the last time he had an acting role in a motion picture was 1997's The Borrowers. Winter still does the occasional TV role and voiceover, however, and recent rumors about a possible third Bill and Ted feature inspires hope for a return to the spotlight.

HENRY THOMAS

 First Exposure: The 1981 World War II drama Raggedy Man.

Career Takeoff...? Not a year after his debut, Thomas snagged the prized lead role of Elliot in Steven Spielberg's science-fiction classic E.T.: The Extra-Terrestrial.

What Happened? After the massive success of E.T., Thomas took on a film and TV role every now and then, but never reached the same headlining success he achieved earlier (his most notable post-E.T. role being the young soldier Samuel Ludlow in 1994's Legends of the Fall). Nonetheless, Thomas has maintained a low-key yet steady line of work in Hollywood, most recently appearing in episodes of CSI and The Mentalist, as well as a supporting role in the film adaptation of Nicholas Sparks' romance novel Dear John.

CHARLIE KORSMO

First Exposure: A role as Jessica Lange's son Matt in the 1990 dramedy Men Don't Leave.

Career Takeoff...? The same year, the 12-year-old Korsmo gained attention as a street orphan (called only "The Kid") taken under the wing of Warren Beatty's titular detective in the box-office smash Dick Tracy, and in 1991 gained big roles in the Bill Murray comedy What About Bob? and the Steven Spielberg Peter Pan adventure Hook.

What Happened? After Hook, Korsmo virtually fell off the map. He returned to acting only once, as geeky William in the 1998 teen comedy Can't Hardly Wait. After retiring from acting, Korsmo earned a Physics degree at MIT, began working in missile defense for the U.S. government, and gained a J.D. from Yale in 2006. He's been productive.

JAKE LLOYD

 First Exposure: The so-ridiculously-horrible-that-it's-good-in-a-self-destructive-way Arnold Schwarzenegger holiday comedy Jingle All The Way (1996).

Career Takeoff...? At age eight, Lloyd was cast as Darth Vader-to-be Anakin Skywalker in the hugely anticipated prequel Star Wars: Episode I- The Phantom Menace.

What Happened? But when it was released two years later in 1999, Lloyd's less-than-stellar acting skills-- making Mark Hamill's whiny farmboy in the original 1977 installment of George Lucas' saga seem like Shakespeare in comparison-- was one of the many elements of the film that severely pissed off fans and critics alike. After making the 2001 drama Madison, Lloyd focused on his education and retired from acting that same year.

HAYDEN CHRISTENSEN

First Exposure: After a few years of small movie and television roles in both America and his native Canada, Christensen got his first taste of real Hollywood exposure in 2001's critically acclaimed drama Life as a House, which earned him both Golden Globe and SAG nominations.

Career Takeoff...? The older and increasingly volatile Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker, in 2002's Star Wars: Episode II- Attack of the Clones, and its 2005 sequel Star Wars: Episode III- Revenge of the Sith.

What Happened? Despite playing one of the most iconic characters in pop culture history in two hugely successful films, Christensen-- like Jake Lloyd before him-- received poor marks from fans and critics for wooden and sometimes embarrassing acting as the future Darth Vader (though part of the blame could very well go to Lucas' script and direction, seeing as how Life as a House and 2003's Shattered Glass proved that Christensen really could act). Still, Christensen's career didn't really pick up after Sith. Parts in movies such as the Edie Sedgwick biopic Factory Girl, sci-fi actioner Jumper, and the crime flick Takers never managed to reignite Christensen's superstar status.

BRANDON ROUTH

First Exposure: After a slew of bit roles in television shows such as Gilmore Girls and Will & Grace, the Iowa native made his feature film debut with a tiny role in the 2006 murder drama Karla.

Career Takeoff...? Despite very few entries on his resumé, Routh landed the highly prized role of Clark Kent/Superman in Bryan Singer's 2006 revival of the titular superhero's film franchise, Superman Returns.

What Happened? Even though Routh's performance as the Man of Steel was generally praised, the film as a whole didn't exactly make the impact that it intended, and the hopes of a sequel were shelved (and then abandoned altogether). After Returns, Routh's roles were few and far in-between, his most notable parts being a gay porn star in Zack and Miri Make a Porno (2008), a vegan bassist/supervillain in Scott Pilgrim vs. The World (2010), and the eponymous paranormal investigator in the critically and commercially savaged 2011 horror-comedy Dylan Dog: Dead of Night.

NIKKI BLONSKY

First Exposure/Career Takeoff...? Blonsky, then a 17-year-old employee at a New York Cold Stone Creamery, won her first professional acting role as lead protagonist Tracy Turnblad in the hugely acclaimed 2007 film adaptation of the hit Broadway musical Hairspray, itself an adaptation of the 1988 John Waters cult classic film of the same name.

What Happened? Blonsky got rave reviews for her delightful performance as Turnblad (even scoring a Golden Globe nomination), but apart from supporting parts in two limited-release films that received little to no exposure, Blonsky hasn't been seen on the big screen since. She had a lead role in an ABC Family television movie that probably nobody saw-- because, well, it's ABC Family we're talking about-- and then got the lead in the short-lived (read: two months) television series Huge on the same network in 2010 (again, nobody watches ABC Family). Blonsky recently received a cosmetology license in New York, but apparently still hasn't given up on acting.

Review: "STUCK BETWEEN STATIONS"

Usually, for a film critic (especially for a rank amateur like yours truly), it's difficult to keep personal biases at bay when you're reviewing a film whose contents you have a personal or historical investment in. Sometimes one may have problems staying partial because the story's an adaptation of a favorite book or previous movie. The movie might star an actor that one might be a huge fan of (or, by contrast, a huge detractor of), causing ample distraction while trying to watch the film as a whole.

Another issue might be the film taking place in one's hometown or adopted town. As the cliched (yet resoundingly true) saying goes, home is where the heart is, and any city ranging from New York to Fresno can be as big a character as any flesh-and-blood actor. Thus, the portrayal of such is just as important as any other portrayal found within.

Though I was raised in a suburb sixteen miles away, Minneapolis, Minnesota has been my home for the last two years, and I rapidly grew to love the cultural, aesthetic, and historical importance of the city and its various idiosyncrasies. Though I've seen plenty of Hollywood movies set in the Mini-Apple years before moving here (such as Fargo, Untamed Heart, and, yes, The Mighty Ducks), to see various landmarks on the big screen that I've personally experienced as a resident added an ample amount of SQUEEE-worthy hometown pride to my viewing experience.

In director Brady Kiernan's independent drama Stuck Between Stations, I was indeed beaming with that very pride while observing a cinematic tour of the City of Lakes, a broad, beautiful backdrop for an engaging story about two kindred spirits reunited by chance.

Casper (Sam Rosen) is an active-duty soldier recently put on bereavement leave to attend his father's funeral in Minneapolis. On his last night in town before being redeployed, Casper runs into graduate student Becky (Zoe Lister-Jones), a former high school classmate that he hadn't seen since graduation.

Becky's dealing with her own personal struggles, in the form of a regrettable affair she's been carrying on and recently ended with her married college professor David (Michael Imperioli). Receiving threatening phone calls from David's wife (Nadia Dajani)-- who's also a professor in Becky's graduate program-- Becky's been worried about her academic and professional future and the ramifications her actions may have had.

After an unconventional reunion at a nightclub, Casper and Becky spontaneously decide to take a late-night tour of Minneapolis-- ranging from bars and punk rock circuses to house parties and public access television stations-- and all the while reconnect with each other, revealing their hopes, fears, and secrets little by little, before Sam leaves for Afghanistan the next morning.

The first impression I got from Stuck Between Stations was its striking thematic similarities to Richard Linklater's Before Sunrise: a minimalist, dialogue-heavy story about two people who meet in a picturesque city, spend the night getting to know each other, and then go their separate ways.

But rather than seeing Ethan Hawke and Julie Deply traipsing around Vienna and its various landmarks, we're treated to a charming Sam Rosen (who co-wrote the script) and Zoe Lister-Jones taking the scenic route in various Minneapolis landmarks, hipster enclaves, the University of Minnesota campus, and plenty of other name-droppable locations that'll eagerly put a smile on any Minneapolitan's face (including yours truly).

The story itself is simple enough, and lends most of its focus to Casper and Becky's awkward reunion and natural chemistry. The relationship between the previously estranged acquaintances is portrayed realistically and never in a pretentious, "meet-cute" fashion. Rosen possesses a mischievous sparkle in his eyes that belie an inner numbness towards the horrors he's faced and must face again after his leave is over. Lister-Jones likewise shares her compatriot's struggle with finding her place in an increasingly turbulent world, and her late-in-the-game revelation regarding her outlook on life is rather heartbreaking.

Not everything is perfect with Stations, however. The usage of split-screen editing borders on over-usage at times, and the subplot with Michael Imperioli feels like a somewhat superfluous attempt to add a "name" actor to the proceedings. Luckily, we already have a better use of such a tactic with Minneapolis native Josh Hartnett's funny extended cameo as Sam's anarchist friend-rival, and to be honest, the need for established Hollywood stars is almost unnecessary considering the magnetism of the two lead actors.

The cinematography by Bo Hakala is absolutely marvelous, capturing the beauty of the city with a less-is-more approach. Simple stationary shots of First Avenue, the Walker Art Center, or the University's West Bank bridge speak volumes. Grant Cutler's low-key score grounds the film's emotional ambiance, and the filmmakers do right to shine a light on the creative weirdness and unique sensibilities that Minneapolis proudly embraces as its own.

A veritable love letter to Minneapolis, Stuck Between Stations successfully manages to evade a "hipster indie" label that outsiders might unfairly apply to it at first glance, but rather proves itself an intimate, well-executed, and warm celebration of a city's roots and the mutual coming of age of two disparate people who find common ground in the spirit of the times.

Letter Grade: "B+"

Review: "SHAME"

It seems like no other city in the world is more apt to serve as a multifaceted cinematic canvas than New York City. Probably the most common setting for any film (American or maybe even otherwise), the Big Apple has been seen through the camera lens as a grungy, paranoid hellhole (Taxi Driver, Mean Streets), a land of opportunity (In America), a backdrop for whimsical romanticism (Manhattan, Breakfast at Tiffany's), and of course a prime target for over-the-top destruction (The Day After Tomorrow).

The city that never sleeps by now had become so heavily mythologized that it can easily become a distinct character in whatever movie it appears in, probably best personified by the similarly-titled song from Martin Scorcese's less-than-stellar musical-drama New York, New York. Though the movie itself had left much to be desired, the theme song famously sung by Liza Minnelli was eventually adopted as the unofficial anthem for the city, celebrating New York as a land of love, happiness, and opportunity.

There's a scene in British director Steve McQueen's Shame where Carey Mulligan's troubled, emotionally-devastated lounge singer delivers a heartbreaking rendition of the tune that does the impossible, and strips away the bombast and show-tune facade of the original song and makes the listener feel as empty, lonely, and helpless as Michael Fassbender's sex-addict protagonist. It's a powerful, haunting scene that serves as only one broad stroke on the massive cinematic canvas that Shame represents.

Thirtysomething Brandon Sullivan (Michael Fassbender) seems to have it all: he's good-looking, has a high-paying executive job, and lives in a fancy Manhattan high-rise apartment. But he also suffers from sex addiction: completely unable to control his sexual urges, Brandon seems pathologically terrified of intimacy and instead fills that void with rampant casual sex and consumption of pornographic material.

One night, he discovers that his estranged, wayward younger sister Sissy (Carey Mulligan) has crashed at his apartment. Despite not being thrilled at this prospect, Brandon reluctantly allows her to stay for the next few days. But her presence turns out to be less than ideal for Brandon, as her neediness and intrusion in his private life exacerbates his own demons, causing a downward sexual and psychological spiral that Brandon cannot escape.

Shame starts off with a (metaphorical) bang. During a montage for the first ten or so minutes, we get a nearly-wordless glimpse into Brandon's daily routine. Lying naked in bed, Brandon stares into the distance, seemingly devoid of warmth and satisfaction despite commanding the attraction of women like a flame does a moth. His carnal compulsions are almost robotic in nature, as if the constant copulation, covert masturbation sessions, and video sex-chats are actions without any actual human feeling or perception.

And the world around him seems to match his emotional sterility. His office, his apartment, even his clothing are a drab palette of grays and whites. Brandon clearly gets no enjoyment from his illicit activities. He loathes himself for his inability to get close to anyone, and his experiences have sullied his views on the importance and legitimacy of intimate relationships.

There's a subplot where Michael proactively attempts to fly right by courting his cute coworker Marianne (Nicole Beharie). But he's clearly uncomfortable with attempting monogamy from the very beginning, from an almost voyeuristic dinner date (accomplished with a multi-minute long take that successfully borders on cinema verite), to their bedroom tryst that Brandon stops because the affection involved is too much for Brandon to bear.

This contrasts beautifully with Mulligan's character, whose addiction is one for constant love and affection. Her Sissy possesses a sadness and vulnerability that, for that one prolonged moment during her musical performance, starkly aligns with Brandon's despair. He recognizes what she's conveying, and maybe subconsciously, he realizes that cannot do anything to reach out to her because of the stone wall he's placed around himself.

To say that Shame is a bleak and less-than-enjoyable film is a massive understatement. I drew many comparisons between this film and Darren Aronofsky's tragic and disorienting Requiem for a Dream. Both films feature characters possessed by a crippling addiction, unable to dig themselves out of their hole no matter how hard they try, until the story climaxes with a staggering crescendo of self-destructive depravity. Simply put, don't walk into Shame and expect The Muppets.

Luckily, one of the aspects that makes Shame worth seeing is the powerful, heartwrenching performance by Fassbender. Having had a stellar year (gaining plenty of exposure with Jane Eyre, X-Men: First Class, and A Dangerous Method), the 34-year-old Fassbender caps it off with a role requiring serious discipline and bravery.

Clearly unshy about dropping trou for the camera (and I mean it when I say "dropping trou", because this film earns its NC-17 rating), Fassbender effortlessly manages to convert his physical nakedness into one of emotional nakedness. His vulnerability is masked by a steely gaze that can lure in a woman far more easily than any words can. But his Casanova is only skin-deep. Underneath is fear, emptiness, and, yes, shame. It's a bravura performance that's immediately deserving of any accolades he's awarded.

It helps that the direction by McQueen (who reunites with Fassbender after McQueen's 2008 debut Hunger) helps transform both Brandon and New York City into symbolic twins: alluring and seductive on the surface, hollow and emotionally primitive on the inside. McQueen's New York isn't exactly as diseased or mean-spirited as a director like Scorcese would portray it, but by the third act serves as a stand-in for the descending circles of Hell that Brandon plummets into during his worst moments.

Shame certainly isn't an easy film to watch. Covering a serious subject that hitherto hadn't been heavily discussed in the movies, it serves as an effective mirror to our own personal neuroses and afflictions, but most importantly, it shines a light on interpersonal connection and how irrevocably lost we are without it, no matter what vice we attempt to cover the wounds with.

Letter Grade: "A"