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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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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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What happens when a ritzy, small-time film director takes on a Hollywood blockbuster, especially when the main character is one of the most beloved of classical fiction? You get Guy Ritchie’s Sherlock Holmes, which is one part Ritchie’s normal, herky jerky filmmaking, one part studio pandering, and one part Robert Downey Jr., but minus all the character development.

Ritchie’s Sherlock Holmes takes Sherlock Holmes and yanks him from his normal, stuffy fare and transplants him into a would-be action flick—I say would be because I’m not quite sure the film has as much action as the trailer would lead you to believe. Oh, sure there are explosions and fights, but it’s not quite as in-your-face as action-starved frat boys might be rooting for. That’s not to say that Sherlock Holmes isn’t fun, because it is, but it feels so disjointed, as if the studio said, “Hey, Ritchie, can you tone down some of your Ritchie-ness?” And then Ritchie proclaimed, “I will cram the most Ritchie-ness I can into each scene.”

Read more after the jump.
 
 
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Even though I didn’t really like Juno, it was no fault of its director, Jason Reitman. The movie was well-acted, and the directing was pretty good—it was just that hipper-than-thou dialogue that made me cringe. And, I LOVE Thank You For Smoking, which was a particularly well-crafted directorial debut. So, when you consider the amalgamation of George Clooney, Jason Reitman, and a whole slew of funny cameo appearances, it’s no wonder that critics are going gaga for Up in the Air. I’m just not one of them.

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I think I might be 10 to 12 years too old to really get the Twilight phenom, and, perhaps, I'm about 15 years too young to really howl at a shirtless 17 year old because that's the sentiment I walked away with after the Twilight Saga: New Moon screening this week. So, devout lovers of the books, beware; there's a good chance my review might break your heart..that is, of course, if Robert Pattinson hasn't stolen it away already.  

Read the review after the jump!
 
 
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Unlike Greg, I’m a pretty big fan of period pieces. Give me a movie about a bad ass queen, throw in some sweet costumes and some romance, and I’m sold. This being said, a lot of historical dramas tend to be on the dull side, and The Young Victoria, even with all its glorious costuming and beautiful locations, falls into this category.

Most films about Queen Victoria have focused on her later years, of which there were many, considering she was the longest reigning monarch Britain has ever seen. Not much has made mention of her earlier years, which were filled with overbearing advisors, copious wooing, and political strife. The Young Victoria aims to portray Victoria before the stiffness the era that bears her name would later be associated with, as well as the beginning of her long love affair with Prince Albert.

More after the jump!
 
 
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Don’t get me wrong, I love Nick Hornby, author of About a Boy and High Fidelity. But, he has the awful knack of making women either stone-cold bitches or pristine virgins, with most of his female characters severely lacking realism. I knew Hornby had crafted An Education’s screenplay, based on the short memoir by British journalist Lynn Barber, but while watching the film, I kept forgetting about his involvement—and I mean this as a compliment. Jenny, the female protagonist in An Education, played subtlety and beautifully by relative newcomer Carey Mulligan, was so dimensional and relatable that I got swept up into her world wholeheartedly.

Read more about An Education after the jump!
 
 
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There are movies that I sit through and thoroughly enjoy from start to finish. There are movies that I sit through and extremely loathe. And then there are movies that I think, “Ok, this movie is goooooood, but why am I not enjoying it more?” Coco Avant Chanel fits in the latter category. I’m always fascinated by a good, ol’ fashioned biopic that tells a great story about how someone became something great, and while Coco Avant Chanel gives us the small details of what made Coco Chanel different than other French designers during her time (which, let’s face it, spanned over 50 years), it doesn’t give us the rewards of her struggles. It could have used more of Coco Après Chanel.

Read more after the jump!
 
 
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Couples Retreat has a lot going for it. First of all, Vince Vaughn’s fast-talking, slightly crazy shtick works for me. It has since Swinger, and granted, that was 13 years ago now, and a lot of his charm has worn thin in terrible, terrible movies. But he still makes me laugh more often than not, so I tend to give him the benefit of the doubt. Secondly, Jon Favreau has really honed his angry comedy routine, which is a far cry from his nerdy, insecure days in the aforementioned movie, and, for the most part, it works. Thirdly, Jason Bateman. Do I even need to explain this? Fine, Extract was kinda shitty, but oh well. Fourth of all, Kristen Bell is so damn likeable. Throw in the producing skills of Peter Billingsley (in his first directing role), who’s produced a ton of Favreau and Vaughn films, and you have an at least decent film, right?

Fuck, no.

Read more after the jump!
 
 
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Let me preface this review with the confession that I tend to cry easily at sappy moments. Greg made fun of me just the other day for misting up a bit at a stupid AT&T commercial about a lost dog that gets found via texting. No judgment, okay? Anyhow, so when I was walking into a film about a man whose wife dies of cancer very early on into the plot, I braced myself for what was to come. And, surprisingly, no tears came. It’s not that The Boys Are Back isn’t touching—it is. It’s not that the film isn’t hopelessly sweet—it is. It’s not that that precocious Australian boy isn’t endlessly adorable with his floppy hair and smattering of freckles because, by God, he is. It’s just that I couldn’t get deeply invested in this film, but it’s not for the lack of trying on Clive Owen’s or director Scott Hicks’ (Shine) parts. 

Check out the rest of the review after the jump!