New Year’s Eve
New Year’s Eve is still in theaters but probably won’t be for long because it’s just not that good. It does have what can be considered an all-star cast, which includes Sofia Vergara, Katherine Heigl, Seth Meyers, Josh Duhamel, Michelle Pfeiffer, Hilary Swank, Abigail Breslin, Lea Michele, Zach Efron, Ashton Kutcher, and Jessica Biel. However, there are simply way too many story lines and the whole movie seems rushed with little character development. The movie takes place in New York City, and one simply wants the ball to drop because that probably means the movie is about to end.

Things to take away:
• The whole Ashton Kutcher/Lea Michele storyline could have been deleted and no one would have cared.
• No one buys the movie’s claim that Zach Efron’s and Sarah Jessica Parker’s characters are siblings.
• Bon Jovi, who plays a famous singer, is actually a decent actor, but it’s hard to believe that Katherine Hiegl’s character is the love of his character’s life.
• Apparently you can win lots of money if your baby is a hospital’s first birth of the year and according to the Internet, yams can affect how quickly one goes into labor…Who knew?
• Ludacris seems to enjoy playing his role as a security guard.
• That guy who plays the younger brother on Wizards of Waverley Place is supposed to be a heartthrob in the movie, but is actually just plain weird.

Valentine’s Day
Valentine’s Day, which came out in 2010 and takes place in Los Angeles features actors such as Jessica Biel (again), Jamie Fox, Julia Roberts, Bradley Cooper, Patrick Dempsey, Shirley MacLaine, Ashton Kutcher (again), Anne Hathaway, Emma Roberts, Taylor Lautner, Jennifer Garner, and Queen Latifah. While it’s slightly more cohesive than New Year’s Eve, many of the characters are just plain annoying.

Things to take away:
• While Taylor Swift is awesome, her acting skills need some work.
• Also, Taylor Swift’s character does not seem like a “Felicia.”
• Valentine’s Day proposals are not always successful.
• Ashton Kutcher seriously plays the exact same character in all his movies, except this time, he is also a florist.
• If one is having an affair, one better be skilled at remembering to take off and put on one’s wedding ring.
• Taylor Lautner looks weird when he runs.
• Jennifer Garner is awesome.
• Topher Grace (remember him from Win a Date with Tad Hamilton?) seems like a pretty cool dude.

Love Actually
Love Actually is by far the best of the three movies. Not only was it made before the other two movies (in 2003) and was set in London, but it features a fantastic British cast including Colin Firth, Keira Knightley, Hugh Grant, Emma Thompson, Liam Neeson, and Alan Rickman (most commonly known for his role as Snape in Harry Potter). The stories blend together in a way that actually makes sense, and even the less famous actors get a decent amount of screen time. Also, Christmas season is definitely the best time to set a movie anyway.

Things to take away:
• It really doesn’t take long to fly from London to France, and apparently there are lots of spare flights on Christmas Eve?
• One can supposedly learn to speak Portuguese decently in a week.
• Rowan Atkinson a.k.a. Mr. Bean is a hilarious salesman.
• Lobsters were most definitely present at the birth of Jesus.
• Prime Ministers love dancing to “Jump.”
• Having a British accent is the secret to getting girls in Wisconsin.
• Banofee is a kind of pie – banana and toffee.

Immortals is a film that would have you think its characters came from millennia-old myths about legendary heroes, but like last year’s Clash of the Titans, these adapted heroes are a bit less remarkable than their inspiration. Heavily touted as a film from the producers of 300, Immortals unfortunately tries to create a more complex adventure of ancient lore, something that inherently conflicts with the necessary formula for a film to be like 300. The myths of Greek lore were created as morality tales as well as attempts to understand the nature of the world. If we were to read Immortals the same way, we would come to believe that the only meaningful coda in life would be, “SPEAR TO FACE!”

Loosely based on the myth of Theseus and the Minotaur, Immortals is a story of revenge. In his effort to dominate mankind and the gods, the evil and somewhat unintelligible King Hyperion (Mickey Rourke) intends to release the Kraken—er, Titans, excuse me, whose liberation will mean the destruction of the gods, punishing them for their indifference to his prayers that cost Hyperion his family. To do this, he must acquire the Epirus bow, a weapon of godly destruction. Yet in the midst of trying to find the bow with the aid of an Oracle named Phaedra (Frieda Pinto), Hyperion kills the mother of Theseus, a peasant who has been unknowingly receiving fighting lessons from Zeus, disguised as a beggar (John Hurt). As Theseus swears to avenge his mother, he thus becomes the last hope of victory for the Greeks and the gods.

Meanwhile, on Olympus, a handful of beautiful gods lounge around in intricate yet bizarre gold headgear as if waiting to be hired for a Lady Gaga music video. Led by Zeus (played by Luke Hill, who despite his best efforts has far less presence than Liam Neeson in the same role), the gods are inexplicably forbidden to meddle with the affairs of mankind unless the script runs out of other options. Like all other things in the film, these figures are marvelous to look at but impossible to take seriously.

The narrative of Immortals has an abundance of extra characters and plot points, all of which serve to make the film more convoluted than it should be. While it is arguably more coherent than Clash of the Titans, there are moments when the logic breaks down into completely nonsensical coincidences. Although the audience is invested in Theseus’ vengeance, their interest is undermined by the film’s bland script. It falls far short of being truly epic, although the visuals and action have entertainment value.

Henry Cavill, in the role of Theseus, is given many of the stock hero tropes we’ve seen in recent ancient epics; yet despite his generic characteristics, Cavill brings a genuine heart to his character, a believable intensity and authenticity that makes his vengeance something we care about. The majority of the actors, however, simply flounder with the material they have. Frieda Pinto unfortunately doesn’t convince as Phaedra, although she certainly makes her divine visions look assuredly sexy. The brilliant John Hurt appears only sparsely to spout fortune-cookie grade nuggets of wisdom to Theseus (“It is not enough merely to live…but to live rightly” . . . with an axe in your hand and a battle scream on your face).

More compelling is King Hyperion, the self-made Lord of All Debauchery, whose crimes against humanity include—but are not limited to—murder, torture, blasphemy, slightly-more-contrived murder and emasculation (additionally, he eats all of his food as messily as is humanly conceivable). He commands an army of Archaic Jason Voorhees look-alikes in his ongoing conquest to bring all of Greece under his dominion. Unlike other typical ‘rule-the-world’ strategies, Hyperion plans to take things a step further once he becomes king; he will literally impregnate every woman in Greece so that his mark will be left on the world forever. In the hands of Mickey Rourke, the character is darkly grounded, as there is a deeper, tangible anger and pain behind all of his actions to make him rightfully despicable if impossibly maniacal. Despite the natural tendency of his dialogue to induce severe cases of prolonged eye rolling, Rourke gives the performance enough of a worldly side that his death (the long awaited goal of the film) is something the audience will root for.

The film’s greatest strength is its visual style. Tarsem Singh (who prefers the singular Tarsem), a film school classmate of 300 director Zack Snyder, has no scarcity of taste for beautifully composed shots. Where Snyder has created his deft visual bravura from the graphic novels he adapts, Tarsem has revealed his interest and inspiration from Baroque painting, particularly Caravaggio (the difference, of course, is that Caravaggio never made paintings of unhinged bloodlust or gods gone wild).

Regardless, Tarsem’s attention to composition, lighting, and color are not to be dismissed; while the spirit of the film is decidedly non-inspiring, the aesthetics are undeniably epic (and indeed it would be easy to imagine innumerable calendars made up of screenshots of the film). The action choreography is likewise brilliantly constructed, though predictably stylized. And to all the carnage-junkies potentially interested in the film, Immortals has more violence than 300 and Clash of the Titans put together; it is most likely the closest adaptation to the God of War franchise we will ever see (a fact for which I thank Zeus).

Immortals is predictably spectacular as a visual collaboration and predictably ludicrous as an example of storytelling. You may laugh at the dialogue or groan at the violence, but Immortals remains entertaining during its time onscreen. It certainly isn’t the worst movie you’ve seen all year (just watch Jack and Jill) but this is a myth unquestionably removed from Homer.

Grade: C

Moneyball is the feel good movie of the year, based on a true story of a local Bay Area Major League Baseball team, the Oakland A’s. The movie is about Billy Beane (Brad Pitt), a former MLB player who is now the Oakland A’s general manager.

The movie follows Beane on his journey to making the Oakland A’s a winning team. Beane has his ups and downs, and makes questionable decisions for the team, but they ultimately turn out to be the right ones. The film was put together well, and the cast includes famous actors Brad Pitt and Jonah Hill. Pitt and Hill both brought a serious, yet comical presence to the film.

Moneyball starts off slow, but really picks it up in the middle and end with a heartwarming, but tragic finish. The movie became confusing at times because of the flashback to Beane’s younger years/Major League Baseball career, but it also gave the audience a better understanding of the story.

If at times during the films you find yourself zoning out, Pitt’s good looks are sure to reel you back in. Moneyball is the classic inspirational sports story, but with a new, refreshing twist. The movie is very inspiring and after it was over, I felt like going out and watching an Oakland A’s baseball game. I recommend this movie to anyone, especially people who enjoy sports and Brad Pitt.

Although packed with thrilling action scenes, Abduction is unbelievable and too predictable with disappointing dialogue and acting, but is sure to win the hearts of a middle school audience.

The movie was directed by John Singleton and stars tween-age heart throb Taylor Lautner as Nathan, just as pouty, buff, and bland as ever. The plot begins when Nathan gets assigned a school project and finds a picture of himself on a missing persons website. His alleged parents are killed, forcing him to run from both the C.I.A. and the “bad guys” with Karen (Lily Collins), the very gorgeous girl next door who also happens to be Nathan’s crush. The two of them make their way across the east coast with help from some unlikely sources and discover secrets about Nathan’s past. The movie ends quite predictably: the bad guys die, Nathan gets the girl, and the two of them return to an average life of high school parties and sports.

Sitting in the theatre watching the previews, I had a few expectations: Taylor Lautner will take his shirt off, there will a fight scene that goes on for a bit too long, and there will be one scene where the girl is running slow-mo looking really hot. Results: Lautner only took his shirt off twice, there was one of those snoozy fights, and there wasn’t a scene of Karen running looking hot. Bummer.

However, I wasn’t expecting the dialogue to be quite as bad as it was. The script was beyond dull and only emotional enough to connect fight scene to chase scene. The movie was merely packed with fancy cars, fast motorcycles, hot cheerleaders, and big guns. It had every scene a ‘good’ action movie should have. Within the first fifteen minutes, there was already an exploding bomb and the stereotypical shot of the two protagonists running away, barely escaping with their lives. There were overdramatic shots of jumping out of a moving car, exploding glass windows, shoot-outs, fistfights, and high speed chases. Of course there were also a few sentimental moments to win the hearts of the squealing tweens in the audience.

The movie was written by Shawn Christensen, and according to Imbd.com, this is his first full movie other than shorts. This was a valiant first attempt by Christensen, but he still has a long way to go before creating anything Oscar-worthy.

Lautner is annoyingly monotone throughout the whole movie (whether due to his acting or the dialogue, I am unsure) and shows a range similar to that of a houseplant. Most of the time, he has the same facial expression of a mix between pout, squint, and confusion, and the rest of the time he wears an expression of anger and constipation.

I also found the actual cinematography was sub-par. There were a lot of strange camera angles such as reflections in picture frames and from underneath a glass coffee table, like something out of an indie film. There was also a shot of just Lautner’s nose and eyes that must have lasted for a very uncomfortable 15 seconds.

Basically, the film was just an excuse to showcase Taylor Lautner and his abs, and even that fell short.

For movie-goers who want poofy ‘60s haircuts, gospel singing, sass, and a history lesson all at once, The Help, one of summer’s latest hits, fits the bill.

The movie, based on the best-selling novel of the same name by Kathryn Stockett, stars a curly-haired Emma Stone in what is a very unconventional role for the young actress. Stone plays Eugenia “Skeeter” Phelan, an aspiring writer who returns to her hometown of Jackson, Mississippi, after graduating from college. Upon receiving encouragement to continue her writing from a publisher in New York, Skeeter approaches her friend’s black maid, Aibileen Clark, and asks her to describe what it’s like working for a white family. When Aibileen’s friend Minny Jackson gets fired by her employer, the evil Hilly Holbrook, she too joins the project, and the three form an unlikely friendship. The story follows the relationships between the white and black women in town as they meddle in each others’ business, get beaten by their husbands, try to get into the bridge group, and attempt to wear the best dress to the African Children’s Benefit.

The Help depicts 1960s American life in the conservative South. During the course of the movie JFK is assassinated, Medgar Evers is murdered in Jackson, and Jim Crow laws are in full effect. The primary goal of most white women at this time was to get married and have babies, which is why Skeeter, who puts her career first, is seen as such an anomaly. But the white women in Jackson begin to find it harder and harder to justify why they are willing to raise money for black children, yet build separate bathrooms in their garages just so they do not have to do business on the same toilets as the help. And the help….

Viola Davis and Octavia Spencer shine as Aibileen and Minny, respectively. And Bryce Dallas Howard plays the role of the manipulative Junior League President Hilly Holbrook to perfection.  Howard and Stone’s Southern accents are passable, yet one can definitely tell they are not native Mississippians. Neither is Menlo School grad Ahna O’Reilly who plays Aibileen’s employer, Elizabeth Leefolt, in her first major role. While the cookie-cutter, Southern wives (basically every woman in her 20s in the town except for Skeeter) seem to be clinging to the “old ways,” their older counterparts, namely the mothers of Skeeter and Hilly, appear to be delighted and amused about the changes taking place both in Jackson and elsewhere in the United States.

At nearly two and a half hours, the movie just barely manages to condense the action of the 450-page book. Numerous sub-plots are squeezed in, resulting in a story that seems choppy at times. Those who have not read the book might find parts of the movie difficult to follow. Still, as an ultimately lighthearted drama with some comedic twists and moral lessons, The Help successfully paints a picture of the South during the Civil Rights era and satisfies the notion that everybody gets what they deserve.

The previous Harry Potter installments were all pleasantly enjoyable, but fairly inconsequential; given the limitations of film adaptations, the story, characters, and mythos of the series were never as airtight as J.K. Rowling’s magical saga. It was easier to see what was wrong with Harry Potter when you weren’t completely immersed in everything that was done right. Something was always being held back to keep the films from coming into their own.

Deathly Hallows: Part 2 doesn’t pause for a moment. It throws an invisibility cloak on its scant missteps and holds your attention even after the screen goes dark and John William’s theme begins. From the opening images of a Hogwarts under the control of Death Eaters and Dementors, Part 2 plunges its audience into the most immersive, unflinching and emotionally captivating film of the series. Almost without question, this is a film that validates the existence of a series that took eight films, millions of dollars, and two presidencies to complete. Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows brilliantly finishes the saga in a way that feels fully conclusive, even while making you wish you could have more (or, more closely, while making you wish more of the Potter series had been given the level of depth of its double-feature closer).

Picking up in the wake of Part 1 (in which the leads marched all over Death Eater-occupied Britain, in a quest that culminated in having their questions explained by a children’s book), Harry, Ron, and Hermione continue their search for the Dark Lord’s Horcruxes. After an exhilarating break-in to Gringotts Wizards Bank (which looks like a cross between the Mines of Moria and the Matterhorn), and the following escape on an amazingly well realized dragon, the trio find themselves back at Hogwarts, now under the sway of Snape and the servants of Voldemort. This once cheery castle soon serves as a battleground between the last supporters of Harry and Voldemort’s legion, in the most fantastic siege since the battle of Minas Tirith (Is it blasphemous to reference Lord of the Rings twice in a Harry Potter article? Is that a foolish question?).

This Potter film stands out over the rest—its predecessor included—in terms of emotional gravity. The dark tone pervades throughout; the feeling that everything is at stake is finally in tangible effect, as opposed to past installments (did you think anything bad was actually going to happen in Chamber of Secrets?). This was the film where everything has to matter, and director David Yates makes it work beautifully.

The source material, of course, necessarily demands that this is the darkest in the series, but it only works as well as it does because of the performances. Always the strongest part of the series, the characters are given their final shining moments of glory in Part 2, and at times they floor you. Professor McGonagall’s act of defiance against Snape is touching and invigorating, while Neville Longbottom emerges as a hero in his own right. On the other side, Voldemort is more unhinged and demonic than ever before, and Professor Snape’s final moments are some of the film’s most moving scenes. Harry, Ron and Hermione are as strong as they were in Part 1, but it’s the supporting cast that makes this final adventure the most dire, spellbinding experience of the saga. It’s a shame that more fan favorites, such as Draco Malfoy or Luna Lovegood, couldn’t have more screen time.

Of course, there are little things that purists of the books will fervently pick and moan about. A few miserable wretches sitting near me were bewailing the absence of a certain Shrieking Shack, the inclusion of a boathouse, and various other particulars that the general audience would glance over. (In an especially egregious turn, I find, the filmmakers have replaced the original cat that played Mrs. Norris. Mudbloods!) However, most of the audience should be pleased that so much from the book made it in proper form to the film, including the Epilogue (which, if anything, exists to remind us that Emma Watson will still be adorable in twenty years).

More concerning is the film’s anticlimactic battle between Harry and Voldemort. Given that nearly the entire film is in a state of crisis, the final climax is more than a little underwhelming. It would have been acceptable for the filmmakers to present an understated, more reflective finale, but what’s included is simply disappointing. After a completely nonsensical kamikaze flight around the school, Harry and Voldemort exchange the same ‘wand-locking’ trick that has been repeated since the fourth film. Worse still, the world’s reaction to the outcome of this fight is so muted it makes the achievement feel almost inconsequential (I imagine the characters thinking: “Oh Harry, I heard you fought the Dark Lord. How’d that go?”). Fortunately, the feeling of elation at having seen so many wicked characters meet their end is enough to pull up the slack of the lackluster finish.

It took a while to reach it, but with Deathly Hallows Part 2, the Harry Potter films finally feel like an entity of their own and not a slight shadow of their outstanding source. The posters promise us “It All Ends.” The fan fervor. The franchise. Rupert Grint’s acting career. All finished. Yet the franchise leaves us with an entry so strong, so captivating, it almost demands more. The series has been given the final victory leap, and audiences have never been happier; in all honesty, the Harry Potter films are well set to trump The Rocky Horror Picture Show for audience participation (The Rocky Harry Potter Show—I could get behind it). Until the next wave of remakes, re-releases, or any other villainies that Hollywood dreams up, this series has managed its mischief well.

Seeing as how I’m writing this days after the Class of 2011 Graduation and the following party at an undisclosed location (Thank you, Dick Cheney, for letting us hang out in your terror-cave), this is in all likelihood the last article I will ever write for the M-A Bear News.  Considering the implications of this– that an entire era of my life is crashing down as a new one begins, that this is the last chance I’ll have to say anything about the Alma Mater that was kind/foolish enough to give me a writing gig–it seems only fitting that I talk about X-Men: First Class and rag on the school for having terrible bathrooms.

The bathrooms are terrible because we’ve given up on stopping people from peeing and/or defecating on the floors.  Seriously, how hard is it to aim for the toilet? Peeing, sure you could “miss” the urinal. But if you’re pooping or a girl, come on.  You have to try to miss that one.  And do we condemn this course of action? No.  We put a drain in the floor.  Money that could be used to teach high schoolers basic hygiene skills that will probably be more impressive to colleges or businesses than, “Yeah, I just crap on the floor. Deal with it,” is instead spent on saying, “You know what? Fine. We just don’t care anymore.” And frankly, I don’t care anymore either.  I’m moving on to college, where the bathrooms will undoubtedly be pristine and perfect in every way. And now on to the movie.

In a lot of ways, the X-Men movie franchise is similar to Batman.  The first two films are considered quite good, if flawed.  The third films, while not entirely abysmal, are significantly stupider than the first two movies and are largely disappointing to everyone.  Then the fourth movie comes along and says, “You thought THAT was bad? Behold, ye ignorant slatterns!” and proceeds to beat the franchise with a sack of nickels while telling crude jokes about its mother.  This isn’t a perfect analogy for two reasons: one, X-Men Origins: Wolverine is to Batman and Robin as getting punched in the balls is to getting punched in the balls, shot in the face, and then punched in the balls again, and two, whereas Batman had to wait for the excellent Batman Begins to go by before it got the mind-shattering, Ledger-riffic, genre-changing masterpiece, The Dark Knight, X-Men gets to skip straight to the badass movie with X-Men: First Class, which is not only handily superior to every single X-Men movie before it, but might just be the best Marvel Comics movie EVER.  Yes, it’s “womanizing alcoholic in a robot-suit” good.

Helmed by Matthew Vaughn, the director of another one of this generation’s great superhero movies, Kickass, First Class takes place in the 1960s, detailing the first meeting of Charles Xavier (James McAvoy), aka Professor X, and Erik Lenscherr (Michael Fassbender), aka Magneto, their joint efforts to stop a nuclear war by gathering a team of mutants, and the ultimately doomed friendship that forms as a result.  Setting the movie this far in the past is a brilliant move for several reasons, and not merely for the obvious one of avoiding the unapologetic dung heap of a situation the third X-Men movie created in the present.  Not only do we get to see very different takes on familiar characters, from Xavier as a non-bald, bipedal ladies’ man to Magneto as a badass super-powered Nazi-hunter, but as most of the main characters of the last movie haven’t been born yet, the mutant cast is composed entirely of second-stringer characters who finally get a chance to shine. People like Azazel or Darwin will finally have meaning to people who haven’t heard of the mysterious goat-demon of Hebrew scripture or the naturalist who created the Theory of Evolution.  And perhaps best of all, decisions made with characters like Angel and Emma Frost actually negate several plot points in X3 and Origins: Wolverine.  This isn’t just a good movie on its own merits; it’s so good it erases bad movies.

The 1960s setting makes it more interesting visually than past X-Men movies as well.  Vaughn really worked the “groovy” vibe in this one, so much so that at times it feels more like a Bond thriller than an X-Men movie.  This helps both in terms of the movie’s overall “fun” value and by stretching our suspension of disbelief to accept the goofier aspects of the franchise.  I think I can safely say this is the first superhero movie that has the weight and gravity of Dark Knight and the total commitment to faithfulness of Thor.  Yellow spandex never looked this badass.

And in spite of that, the film still has you on the edge of your seat by the third act.  While the superb pacing and large-scale yet easy to follow action scenes (an enemy mutant assault on a CIA base in particular deserves mentioning) certainly help, the film’s real weight comes from the interplay between the characters and having a director who understands that mutation isn’t only useful for heat rays and teleportation, but for heating our hearts and teleporting our empathy to those who have been persecuted for being different.  The tightly written script and superb acting, especially by McAvoy and Fassbender, help convey a story of doomed friendships and the difficulty of choosing non-violent resistance over vengeance.  I don’t want to say too much, but this is the first X-Men movie that really shows the audience why Magneto acts the way he does, and it may well have a good lot of them agreeing with him.

If you take away anything from this review, it’s that X-Men: First Class is a first-class movie and that I’m a sucker for terrible puns.  See it in theaters as soon as you can; it’s one of the best movies of the summer, and people who go to the movies apparently know that toilets exist for a reason.

The superhero gold rush is panning thin, or so it might seem. After the climactic summer of 2008, when audiences were treated to Iron Man, Hellboy II, and The Dark Knight, the genre has been flapping its wings spuriously to reach the same heights. Thor marks the first of four new films to enter the canon this summer; compared to Batman, Superman, and Spiderman, Thor seems like a second-tier superhero, a last ditch effort by Marvel Studios to keep public attention awake in time for The Avengers movie next year. For better or for worse, they have succeeded; Thor is an absorbing, unique, and novel approach to superhero fiction, one that breathes fresh air into a suffocating genre.

Thor is a distinct superhero film; rather than be set exclusively in the modern (American) metropolises of Earth, Thor spends much of its time in the realm of Asgard, where Norse warrior gods battle over ancient grudges with Frost Giants. Thor, prince of Asgard, is ready to assume the throne when his arrogance and belligerence lead him to spark conflict with the Frost Giants and bring Asgard into war. As punishment, Thor is stripped of his hammer Mjolnir (don’t even try to say it) and cast out of Asgard into the desert of New Mexico, where he must learn humility and wisdom before he can return to stop his brother Loki from taking control of Asgard. Part of Thor’s novelty is that it can ignore the typical crime fighter/secret identity mantra of most popular heroes, as they have no place in its mythology.

Thor imbeds itself into the backdrop of Asgard its problems. Asgard, suspended somewhere in space between Middle Earth and the Galactic Empire, is a creative, colorful, and open-ended fantasy universe. The costumes, animations, and overall visual aesthetics are unique and attractive without drawing too much attention to themselves. Moreover, the political drama between the royal family of Asgard is an element unseen in other super-films, and even when Thor is banished to the humdrum realm of Earth, the turbulence of Asgard is still a high point of excitement. It’s a fantastical setting worth investing in, one that must make Aslan jealous.

The real brilliance of the show comes from the hands of director Kenneth Branagh. Highly regarded as a Shakespearian actor and director, Branagh didn’t entirely leave Hamlet behind when he joined the crew of Thor. He brought his experience of characters and their motivations to make Thor a story you could believe in your stomach and your heart, where other superhero films struggle to make a story that makes sense to your head. There’s a subtle sophistication that quietly raises Thor above the regular hero and makes him a memorable one. Thor balances real emotional drama with lighthearted comedy in a way that feels both enjoyable and significant.

As a result of Branagh’s finesse, it is the character drama, and not hammer-smashing, that moves the plot. The family interactions of Thor, Loki, and Odin are moving, engaging, and exciting in their own right (and when the characters speak like they learned English from a King James Bible, the accomplishment is all the more commendable). From the previews, Thor looked like a wrestler taken out of WWE and clad in sparkling armor; but indeed there is a man behind the beard and the snarl. Thor’s character development is more substantial and real than almost any hero before him (does Spiderman ever stop whining or Wolverine stop raging?). As played by Chris Hemsworth, he’s charming, valiant, and endearing, even in his arrogance, and his likeability only increases as he remains onscreen. His brother and eventual nemesis, Loki, is equally intriguing; his transformation from schemer and troublemaker to true villain makes him a more compelling enemy than typical superhero fare.

Thor’s weakest and most conventional plot point is the romantic attractions between Thor and scientist Jane Foster (Natalie Portman). Portman is as winning as ever, but her character is less engaging than that of Thor or Loki. More serious is Jane Foster’s involvement in humbling the haughty god prince; their romance is intended to reveal the human side of Thor’s character, the better man within himself. However, Thor’s time on Earth is too short for him to have a believably meaningful relationship (and when you think about it, Weekend in New Mexico doesn’t exactly bubble the champagne, either). Both Portman and Hemsworth are skillful enough to move their relationship beyond attraction to infatuation, but the romance is not as developed as the rest of the film.

Where most superhero films are becoming the Hostess Snacks of mainstream cinema, Thor is a slice of old-fashioned, homemade pie. As the genre becomes encumbered with increasing franchises, sequels, and misfires, it is worth pointing out two things: firstly, that when mainstream studios run out of superhero options to turn to, the industry will enter a veritable Dark Ages as studio executives scrape through the mud to find new material. Secondly, the agony of watching blockbusters that do it wrong (Ghost Rider) is hardly comparable to the exhilaration when blockbusters that get it right. By Mjolnir, Thor gets it right.

If you were to combine the heist antics of Ocean’s 11, the unrestrained stunt work of Jackass, and an assorted collection of fancy car commercials from the last forty years, you would have the principle framework of the Fast and Furious formula. The series has always been a male fever-dream of style, steel, and speed, and not only is Fast Five no exception, but it definitively rises above its pack of predecessors to deliver the most satisfying Fast and Furious installment yet. It certainly shares the pitfalls of most contemporary action films, but if you know the ride you’re strapped in for, these problems will only be a blur in the rearview mirror.

The story opens to the epilogue of the previous film, in which Dominic Toretto (Vin Deisel) is broken out of a prison bus by his sister Mia (Jordana Brewster) and friend Brian O’Conner (‘the awful and atrocious’ Paul Walker). From there the trio is forced to hide in Rio de Janeiro, avoiding extradition for their crimes in the U.S. Before long, the group is drawn out of hiding by the promise of endless riches if they successfully steal from the drug lord who controls the city. As they assemble a team to perform a physics-defying heist for the ages, their activities attract the attention of Captain Hobbs (Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson), a diplomatic security agent who more closely resembles a Terminator. From there, plans go wrong, betrayals are made, bullets fly, and a parking garage’s worth of fast cars gets totaled. The story is hardly strong—in fact, if it weren’t for the chemistry of the heist team and the playfulness of the supporting characters, it would be far too conventional. It does, however, provide a sense of cohesiveness to the widespread action sequences that makes the lulls between explosions more intriguing than past entries.

The action, promised in abundance and unrestrained proportions, truly delivers. Squealing cars, madcap explosions, dizzying speed, and excessive property damage are all part of the action fusion one would hope for from a series bold enough to take a fifth round after increasingly shoddy installments. The studio hit the spot in terms of car chase variety— some scenes are quick, other drawn out, some set against the backdrop of a speeding train and others in the streets of Rio. There’s enough pacing that the film doesn’t run out of fuel before the end credits (which, in themselves, play out over a final race). The final heist, visible from the previews, in which a bank vault is literally dragged by two cars like a wrecking ball through the streets, is one of the most over-the-top and immensely satisfying action scenes in recent films. One final mention: the inevitable fight between Vin Diesel and The Rock is one most likely on par with watching The Hulk fight Thor.

What hampers this experience most is the pathetic script, which does its cast no favors. Swaying between rampant cliché and phony, unnatural drivel, the poor writing is constantly throwing a screwdriver into the flow of the film. Some actors can overcome this; others can’t. Veteran viewers of the series may be pleased to see their characters once more, but newcomers and casual fans will be less forgiving of their cheesy interaction. The supporting cast, not the main one, ultimately saves the slower moments from becoming too burdened with frivolous dialogue by giving their characters much needed humor.

Vin Diesel, for better or for worse, delivers the same performance as in every show. His brute toughness, mixed with cool charm and occasional vulnerability, is as potent (or as weak, depending on how well you like it) as ever. His onscreen partner, Paul Walker, is sadly more of a no-trick pony; his chiseled face and fierce gaze can only work for so long before he opens his mouth and any credibility to the illusion of character is dried up. Jordana Brewster is alluring as always, but her character is too thinly sketched and she doesn’t seem to have very much to do. The Rock returns to the hulking presence that made him famous, but his character is simply too extreme for his own charm or talent to have any effect.

Fast Five delivers some much needed fuel to a faltering series. The unchecked action has never been so good, either for the franchise or even for action films of 2011.

In a twist seemingly unique to the series, the titles of each consecutive film grow shorter than the next; from the original ‘The Fast and the Furious”, we eventually boiled down to “Fast and Furious”, and now merely “Fast Five”. Should the franchise continue (which is hinted at in the scene after the credits) entry number six should be something like “F4stnFrius”. If it’s as adrenaline pumping as Fast Five, it should be a race to look forward to.