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It’s nearly impossible to go into a movie without preconceived notions these days. Not only does Hollywood love to rest on its laurels, it is also the only business that goes out of its way to point it out to you. Taglines such as ‘from the visionary director who brought you Training Day’ is basically like saying ‘this guy made a movie you really liked 9 years ago, and even though he has made six more that were so mediocre we’re not going to mention them here, this one is going to be his best work yet!’ Sorry, but that isn’t going to convince me to see a movie, it actually makes me nervous that the movie itself is so bad that you have to promote the director’s previous work over the actual movie itself.

Add in the reports that Brooklyn’s Finest is one of those films with a bunch of well-known actors came together and took a pay cut because they liked the script so much and wanted to work together, and you’ve got a recipe for a turd sandwich.

Read more AFTER the jump!
 
 
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Tim Burton and children’s story books. For me this combination hasn’t worked so well in the past (cough, Charlie Bucket). But, by the time the cute little Dormouse plunges his sword into a Bandersnatch's eyeball, rips the beast's eye meatout of its socket and carries the trophy around on his belt, it becomes more than apparent that Burton's creation is NOT the Disney Alice of the 1950s. And that makes this pairing of the whimsical tale and the dark, quirky director all the better.

DON'T WORRY THAT YOU JUST LEFT YOUR KIDS HOME ALONE WITH DRUGS--READ MORE AFTER THE JUMP!
 
 
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Confession: I went into the The Ghost Writer's screening armed with every "that scene made me feel like I was just slipped some 'ludes and anally raped" joke I could muster. Okay, maybe just that one. I was frustrated with and also a smidge proud of my inability to push aside the director's personal life so the film could shine on its own merit. However, it seems Roman Polanski beat me at my own game by using his personal troubles to fuel the film's journey from basic political thriller into something much more complex...and...right back to basic political thriller again. Perhaps Mr. Polanski hasn't completely outwitted us. For now.

No more played-out rape jokes after the jump!  Promise! 
 
 
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Either movies are getting too predictable, or I'm too smart for my own good. Since I doubt the latter is the problem, I can only assume Hollywood has recycled plots and last-act twists so much that nothing can be truly surprising for the seasoned viewer.

Shutter Island—director Martin Scorsese's first return to drama since 2006's The Departed—tells the story of U.S. Marshall Teddy Daniels (Leonardo DiCaprio). Daniels is brought in to investigate the disappearance of a patient at Shutter Island's Ashecliffe Hospital for the Criminally Insane, an inescapable Alcatraz-like prison hospital for the psychologically disturbed violent criminals. In his search for the missing patient, Daniels begins to uncover a conspiracy about what the doctors are doing on the island and seeks out the man responsible for his wife's death, who may be somewhere on Shutter Island.

Read more after the jump! 
 
 
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Normally I would try to be cute and witty with this opening sentence, but I’m not gonna pussyfoot around the subject at hand for this one: Valentine’s Day sucks. It sucks hard. It sucks so hard, I almost think Gary Marshall tried to make it suck so badly. Question: How do you make so many likable actors so terrible? Answer: Get them to star in Valentine’s Day.

Read why Valentine’s Day blows so much after the jump!
 
 
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When directors go back and reboot a franchise, the most successful are always those who boil a movie down to its core, give it a firm base in reality, and then let the character take you from there. Christopher Nolan boiled a man who wears a suit that looks like a bat down to a man whose family was killed and seeks vigilante justice. Spider-Man was more than a kid who got bit by a radioactive spider; it was about a kid growing up in the world and learning for every one of his actions there is a reaction. What Joe Johnston has done with The Wolfman is boiled a film about a man dealing with his inner demons down to simply a film about a man who turns into a wolf.  And breaking a film down and missing the mark only serves to reveal the films inherent silliness.

Read more after the jump!
 
 
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In Saint John of Las Vegas John Alighieri (Steve Buscemi) is a compulsive ex-gambler who had a bit of luck in Las Vegas once.Then his luck ran out, and he found himself driving as far away from Sin City as his last tank of gas would take him. Still wrestling with his addiction and searching for a new sense of purpose in Albuquerque, John instigates a romantic liaison with his coworker Jill (a surprisingly pleasant Sarah Silverman) the same day he finally gains the confidence to seek out a raise.

Instead of an increase in pay John's boss, Mr. Townsend (played by Peter Dinklage), promotes him to fraud investigator. This new job requires John to shadow seasoned fraud employee, Virgil (Romany Malco) on an investigation to disprove an insurance claim for $200,000 in lost wages filed by a now wheelchair-bound stripper, Tasti D Lite (Emmanuelle Chriqui). The plot follows John and Virgil on their journey in the desert outside of Las Vegas where John gains the strength he needs to continue on the path of his new life while the temptation of his former one looms in the distance.

CRIPPLED STRIPPERS AND FLAMING CARNIES AFTER THE JUMP. 
 
 
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District 13 Ultimatum is a French film with subtitles, but—as you may be able to gather from the terrible title—not the boring kind. This sequel to parkour cult classic District 13 is the kind of movie that needs no translation: good, dumb, high-octane fun with countless asses getting kicked, a few explosions and a pinch of sex appeal.

As with the Transporter series, Luc Besson (director of The Fifth Element, The Professional) serves as writer and producer here, and, like those films, the action is over-the-top. Cars rip through buildings like they're made of tissue paper, and countless hordes of goons are creatively overcome in ways that made me hope stuntmen are thoroughly compensated for their suffering.

More after the jump...
 
 
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Now, don't get me wrong. I have a soft spot for rom-coms, as I explained in my The Proposal review. There's something really gratifying about already knowing how a movie is going to end but enjoying the process anyway. That's why it takes a lot for a rom-com to make me excited; because every fucking cliche and strained plot device has been done. So either the plot needs to make me go "hey....." in surprise every once and a while, or the two leads must be hella charming. When in Rome, starring every nerd boy's (and girl's) crush, Kristen Bell, did neither of those things. 

Read the full review after the jump!
 
 
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I've always liked to think of Mel Gibson as a crazy uncle who makes inappropriate comments about Grandma's cleavage and still says things like "colored folk" and "the gays." It doesn't matter if he's bat-shit insane or just a prick, I can't help but love him. My favorite wacky Uncle Mel moment: When asked about criticism from GLAAD concerning homophobic comments he made in the early '90s, Gibson responded to his interviewer, "I'll apologize when hell freezes over. They can fuck off." You can be offended by his ignorance if you'd like, but it's hard not to take note of the balls on this guy. Maybe it's even those hateful, fury-filled balls that make Gibson such a magnetic force on the big screen.

Even if you don't have a soft spot for Gibson, it's hard to deny that the short-fused Aussie can act. Unfortunately, Edge of Darkness isn't the best vessel for his talents.

Sex toys, buckets of blood, and Liam Neeson after the jump.