I once heard an amazing quote that puts everything in perspective concerning the FOX network. To paraphrase it, “FOX develops amazing shows, sometimes the best in the business; they just don’t know how to handle them.” Never before has a quote shown so much enlightenment upon a single situation. Luckily, for all of us, those amazing shows also pique the interest of other companies, and in the case of Firefly, an ill-fated 2003 sci-fi romp, Universal saw the potential of the show, and gave creator Joss Whedon the pickup for a feature film.

Firefly, the precursor to Serenity, was, as described above, a sci-fi series nested comfortable in the “Friday Death Slot” that hasn’t seen a show escape since The X Files made the leap to Sunday’s. The show, focusing on an ensemble cast aboard the transport ship Serenity (Firefly-class) opened up the world of the future to the mind of Buffy and Angel creator Joss Whedon, who is known for taking chances in both his writing and direction of shows. I’m happy to say that Whedon successfully makes his feature film debut in what is, quite possibly, the best science fiction film in a decade or longer.

For the uninitiated Serenity focuses on the same ensemble crew from the television series still flying about, breaking the law, pillaging Alliance goods, and generally having a good time. The crew is composed of captain Malcolm Reynolds (Nathan Fillion), his first mate Zoe (Gina Torres), her husband and pilot Wash (Alan Tudyk), engineer Kaylee (Jewel Staite), mercenary Jayne (Adam Baldwin) as well as fugitive passengers Simon (Sean Maher) and River (Summer Glau). The latter is the focus of the film’s story as her back story is analyzed a bit more than Whedon was able to in the TV show. For fans of the show the movie serves as both a proper series finale as well as a jumping point into a series of films.

One of Firefly‘s, and Buffy and Angel before it, greatest achievements was in the show’s writing. The film inherits this trait and builds upon it. Whedon seems incredibly comfortable crafting a bigger, more intricate episode of the show with an added budget for special effects and set design, both places Serenity excels beyond the competition. Similarly to Sci-Fi Channel’s Battlestar Galactica, Serenity is a piece of entertainment written around the characters, almost as though it was written for them instead of a viewing audience. Each one is fleshed out and entirely human in the way they act, behave, and react to the situations meeting them head on. This all comes into play fully as the film’s climax begins to really play with your emotional heartstrings as Whedon, once again, shows he is fearless when it comes to his characters and their mortality. While I won’t give anything away, prepare to be shocked.

You’d never be able to tell that Whedon has never directed a big screen production before, as his skills from the small screen transfer to the silver one with incredibly finesse. The movement of the camera is especially awesome as the opening scene of the film is a continuous shot for a matter of minutes without an obvious cut. Many first time directors, with or without previous TV or music video experience, can easily be overwhelmed when put at the helm of a feature film, not Whedon.

While the director should receive a lot of the praise for this wonderful film, the cast isn’t without accommodation as well. Each and every actor has shown the ability to create a memorable character that melds perfectly with the rest of the cast. Whether it is Mal and Jayne playfully arguing or Inara (Morena Baccarin) and Mal fighting their feelings for each other, the dialog is crisp, witty, and full of life. Whedon’s script is the film’s strongest point and can easily be considered for Oscar nomination if the tool’s within the Academy would acknowledge something besides the usual art-house cinema.

Whether or not the masses are ready for a new franchise built upon a sly wit, great characters, and an imaginative take on the future is beyond me, but for those enjoying excellent, award-caliber cinema, Serenity is a no-brainer. Easily better than George Lucas’ prequel trilogy, more alive than the excellent Battlestar Galactica, and more real than reality TV, Serenity is the kind of film that really makes you think about the sci-fi genre in a different light as it breaks the mold we’ve grown so accustom to over the years.

By now you should have heard about a little film call The Aristocrats which makes good on its promise of no violence, no nudity, just words…a whole bunch of dirty words. In the hardcore politically correct word being created under us, it’s nice to see a film come out, on an independent label, and easily be one of the funniest in years.

And why the hell not, when you get nearly 100 of the world’s funniest comics, young and old, together to retell the same dirty vaudeville joke over and over, your sides are going to hurt.

While the film’s premise may seem painfully boring (how many times can you hear the same joke?) the execution and content is award winning. Shot documentary style with candid views of top comics in their homes, relaxing, The Aristocrats explores a joke containing the same punch line and its various incarnations. In fact, the joke itself is open to interpretation by whoever is telling it, it only needs to begin with a few simple lines and everything else is open game.

The movie manages to top itself over and over during its 90 minute runtime by being able to assemble a cohesive, free-flowing movement that never has you looking at your watch. From George Carlin giving us a little history to Bob Saget explaining his definition of cockeyed, The Aristocrats never fails to impress as each and every featured comic gets a line or two in and several tell nearly full renditions of the joke.

The Aristocrats is not for the easily offended as the subject matter ranges from incest to public defecation and everything in-between. In fact, think of the most horrible thing you can, and then top that twice and you might be close to some of the film’s subject matter. I managed to read reviews and user comments on IMDB keeping track of how many people walk out during each showing (this one had two when Howie Mandel went into a “C” word-laced triad). It makes you wonder why these people even bothered knowing that the press surrounding the film and its rating has been in the news since July.

Overall Gilbert Gottfried and Bob Saget steal this movie with each of their performances (especially Gottfried nearly making Rob Schneider collapse from laughter at the Friar’s Club Roast of Hugh Heffner). Sarah Silverman delivers, perhaps, the most well timed joke as it trails off into a wholly uncomfortable, but incredibly funny situation. With so many comics in the film, it’s almost impossible to say how well each one did, but even if you are the most jaded individual in the world, you’ll laugh at a mime donkey-punching a dog while acting out the joke.

Truly, The Aristocrats is a great film, if only for a way to escape and laugh in the face of language that would make Republican’s squirm in their seats and the religious-rite call for a boycott. If anything, the film proves the point that this country has become so fixated on what is best for the society as far as language and actions go. If something as simple as saying a few words can get your panties in a bunch avoid this film like the plague, but for those who would like a keen eye into the funny underbelly of professional comics, The Aristocrats is a great time.

The 40-Year Old Virgin is just one of those movies that comes around once a year that really makes you laugh and enjoy yourself. As cliché as is sounds, the film has enough life and personality to save the rest of the generic box office fare for the rest of the year, and still have an enjoyment factor equal, or better than, any other film we’ll see. There’s so much to like about Virgin that we’ll start with the obvious, Steve Carell.

Simply put, Carell makes The 40-Year Old Virgin into what it is with a great performance topping that of the over-confident, somewhat dim-witted Michael Scott on the US version of The Office. Carell, who also co-wrote the movie with first time feature film director Judd Apatow, invokes the sympathies of the audience as he missteps his way around women with the ultimate goal of losing his virginity. Falling to the peer pressure of his friends (Paul Rudd, Seth Rogen, and Romany Malco), Carell’s Andy bar-hops, experiences a visit from a transvestite, and prepares for pornography by lighting candles in one of the longest preparations to pleasure one’s self ever.

While the focus of the film is on Andy, his three friends played by Rudd, Rogen, and Malco cash in for a majority of the laughs. David (Rudd) is infatuated with a former girlfriend as he sinks into depression after meeting up with her one more time. Cal (Rogen) is a ladies man with a crude outlook on life which provides amazing comedic value especially in one of the movie’s latter scenes. Jay (Malco) is the tied down player who has a girlfriend but also manages to score with every other women in the city.

Surprisingly the film is full of depth despite being based on a seemingly shallow premise. At its core it’s a story about a man losing his virginity, but deep down it’s a showcase of just how pathetic and weird we are as a social culture. Something as simple as a thong can provide endless hours of jokes and banter amongst friends and Carell and Apatow’s script showcases this without bounds.

Like Wedding Crashers before it, The 40-Year Old Virgin provides tons and tons of laughs, both scripted and improvised as the actors were allowed to go crazy with certain scenes, such as the oft-mentioned waxing scene. More surprising, most of the funny moments don’t come in any of the scenes we’ve witnessed in trailers and other promotional material. The film earns its R-rating with more than enough nudity, gross-out humor, and bodily fluids to make American Pie and Porky’s jealous.

The film does begin to drag towards the end, much like the aforementioned Crashers, as the story is about 25 minutes longer than it needs to be, but those who can put up with a slightly less funny third-act are treated to one of the funniest credit sequences you’ve seen this side of Anchorman.

The film also has a bit of heart as Andy isn’t portrayed as a 2D character just looking to get his jolly off with a woman. He’s a complicated character who’s torn between looking good in-front of his friends, finding a woman whom he really likes and wants to be with, and sustaining some sanity in a workplace that rivals the Quik Stop in Clerks for its zany employees. Combine this all together with a barrel of laughs and you have a great picture.

Finally, this review wouldn’t be complete without acknowledging Judd Apatow’s excellence in directing this picture. Forced to see two of his most promising TV shows (Freaks & Geeks, Undeclared) canceled at the hands of FOX (and who hasn’t by now), Apatow bounces back in his big screen debut with roaring success in what has a good chance in being the year’s best comedy.   

While the Academy Awards stay away from comedies like this, one can only hope someone gets some recognition for managing to break the mold for a sex comedy and craft something that should inspire future generations to take notice of the skills presented in putting this picture together. As it stands now, The 40-Year Old Virgin is one of the year’s finest films and it would be a shame for anyone to miss it.

In fact, the only real part I remember is newcomer Hanna Verboom who doesn’t stand out for her acting, but her ability to make you forget the rest of the movie and focus on her beautiful face.

She doesn’t even fit into the story all that well, if you can even call it a story. Deuce is called to Amsterdam to help T.J. (his former pimp) out after a series of murders all involving male prostitutes. The reluctant Deuce is forced out of retirement to clear T.J.’s name and find the real killer before the Dirty Sanchez becomes extinct in the world’s most famous Red Light District. Through a series of misadventures and horrible dates Deuce unlocks the mystery, gets the girl, and everyone lives happily ever after, including his dead wife’s leg.

The only sign this film actually has some life is the three minutes Norm MacDonald is on screen or the split second Adam Sandler appears (in a non-speaking role). When a four second cameo garners more laughs than the other 89 minutes and 56 seconds, you know you have a problem.

The film plays out like a handful of small skits all linked together with a common character that would work better as a second-tier Saturday Night Live sketch than a full blown movie. The spoofing of European culture is the only writing highlight, and most of those jokes have been done before and better in other films.

Sequels in general are a beast to be tamed correctly. You want to bring in your core audience (those who saw the first film) but you also want to expand the patronage so you can make more money. European Gigolo manages to fail on all levels as the theater I saw it in was desolate with only a handful of moviegoers present for opening night on Friday.  

The Dukes of Hazzard, a film version of the hit TV show, is what I like to call a completely harmless movie, or in Hitchhiker terms: mostly harmless. The film simply exists, for what reason is the question you ask yourself when exiting the theater. There just isn’t anything special to it besides a hilarious spoof involving a few campus police officers, and when your biggest draw is a Hemi-powered Charger and Jessica Simpson’s body, it’s a wonder why you just don’t pull out a car magazine.

Everything you would expect to be in a Dukes movie is here, Boss Hogg looking to make lots of money, Bo (Seann William Scott) and Luke (Johnny Knoxville) screaming “Yeee-haw” while tearing apart a classic 1969 orange Charger (aka The General Lee). In fact, you’ll find the most satisfaction when the General is being put to the test by the Dukes power sliding through a roundabout or jumping gullies. Everything else is just sort of anti-climatic.

The plot, or what passes for one, is just an excuse to put Bo and Luke into a series of situations with comedic outcomes. You can tell the screenwriters thought up the jokes they’d like to tell, then wrote around them. This isn’t to say the jokes don’t work, because they do, and some very, very well.

The highlight of the film is the General Lee being pulled over by two campus police officers in a golf cart. Those who have seen Super Troopers could see this coming a mile away, but it was still funny. While there was a better way they could have done it, what we got still put a smile in my face and a tear in my eye from laughing. The rest of the jokes are hit and miss, which seems odd with the heightened screen presence of Scott and Knoxville who have both managed to make us laugh over the years. I guess even funny actors can’t pull sub-par writing out of the toilet.

Jay Chandrasekhar’s direction isn’t to blame for the film, as rumors persist that he couldn’t construct the movie he wanted to, and we know Broken Lizard can make a funny film (if we’re willing to forget Club Dread). Still, what we get is a fundamentally generic film cinematically that only shows signs of glory when it pulls bits form the TV show (freeze-frame, narration).

Seann William Scott and Johnny Knoxville do an adequate job playing the numb-skull cousins Bo and Luke with their asset rich cousin Daisy (Jessica Simpson) who spends the entire film in short shorts and low-cut tops (no complaint here). Willie Nelson as Uncle Jessie is an inspired choice, but he doesn’t have a whole lot to do here, ditto to Pauline (Lynda Carter) who has all but three lines in the entire film. Burt Reynolds as Boss Hogg also delivers a great performance and makes a full white suit look good (in a purely hetero-kind-of-way).

What it all comes down to is the end credits are the best part of the film, bar-none. The blooper reel that shows various incarnations of the General Lee biting the big one and the actors blowing their lines provides the most laughs. The “who-cares” plot doesn’t provide the drive to really watch the film for anything else than Jessica’s ass and a hot orange car. If the powers that be at Warner Bros. decide to go for a sequel, they might want to invest in a screenwriter, or give us two hours of car-flying-fun. The Dukes of Hazzard may not be hazardous to your health, but you sure won’t feel good stepping out of the theater.

From the moment Charlie and the Chocolate Factory begins you can see Tim Burton’s influence in both direction and visual style. The sly humor he manages to portray in the opening credits is only a prelude to what is to come as Charlie becomes his finest work since the original Batman in 1989.

That’s not to say every Burton movie since then hasn’t been good, but none have been this good.

Charlie and the Chocolate Factory tells the story of Charlie Bucket, a simple minded youngster living with his parents and grandparents in a sideways tilted house in the center of a town featuring the smokestacks of Willy Wonka’s candy factory. After the factory closed down years earlier because of greedy competitors stealing Wonka’s ideas, many are surprised to see smoke once again rising from those chimneys and Wonka virtually disappear. Now, the candy aficionado announces that five children will be invited to visit the factory with a grand prize awaiting one of them. The children, along with one adult, arrive at the factory, and the fun begins.

The story itself is based on the book of the same name by Roald Dahl. With some creative licensing here and there, from the parts I’m familiar with, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory remains true to the source material, with some added modernism thrown in for good measure.

What really stands out is Johnny Depp’s performance as Willy Wonka, a truly disturbed, almost homicidal character who presents himself, and his factory, in a visual style we could only contribute to Burton.

Upon first laying eyes on the factory, with is chocolate cascading waterfall and edible grass, you’re left with a sense of awe. Whereas the original Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, starring Gene Wilder, didn’t have the aid of computer generated effects, Burton’s take almost over uses in some cases. Most of the time, however, the CGI is a great compliment to the story.

Aside from the CG, the film itself is masterfully put together and edited into a fast paced, eye-candy laced joy ride featuring an inventive story and great music. Unlike the original 1971 film, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory is not a musical. Aside from the Oompa Loompas (Deep Roy) singing after each child has his or her mishap, the entire film is dialog dependant thankfully sparing us from the Disney influenced subculture we’ve brought upon ourselves.

Getting back to Depp as Wonka, the performance is among his best, especially with the added subplot relating to his candy-forbidding father (Christopher Lee). The arrogance displayed by the character, makes him all the more convincing and funny. In one scene Veruca Salt’s father hands Wonka a business card to which he flings over his shoulder without skipping a beat. It is definitely one of the funniest parts of the film.

On the humor front, there are several scenes where you could hear cricket’s chirp aside from out small group laughing. Being a PG movie, there were quite a few children, therefore it was assumed many of the younger patrons wouldn’t get the jokes, but most of the parents didn’t get them either. I guess they were meant for that early-twentysomething sweet spot we seem to fall into.

It had to happen eventually. With all the comic book properties being gobbled up like marbles during a game of Hungry, Hungry Hippos, the A-list has been whittled down to a select few and now the replacements have been called upon. I’m not saying that the Fantastic Four are not up to par with X-Men and Spider-Man, but those films enjoy such a deep following from their fans, you just didn’t see the kind of press and pure hype for Four as you did for Spider-Man.

Thankfully for us no one decided to come dressed up as The Thing, or worse, the skin-tight clad Mr. Fantastic.

Having never been a fan of the comic book series in which the movie was based, I’m basing this review on the theatrical merits of the script, characters, and storyline and not how well they preserve, or change, the comic book counterparts.

In the film version, the Fantastic Four are formed when five a astronaut, scientist, pilot, corporate mastermind, and a hottie journey to a space station orbiting the earth for a series of experiments as a cosmic storm comes our way. In the vein of every other movie, something goes wrong and all five are exposed to the deadly radiation, only they don’t die, they manifest superpowers. Brother and sister team Sue (Jessica Alba) and Johnny Storm (Chris Evans) become the Invisible Woman and Human Torch, respectively, while mission leader Reed Richards (Ioan Gruffudd) becomes the stretchable Mr. Fantastic. Rounding out the four is astronaut Ben Grimm (Michael Chiklis) checking in as the rock-solid The Thing. To add an antagonistic foil for the four Victor Von Doom (Julian McMahon) seeks revenge on his former schoolmate for turning him into a metal-clad freak and taking his girl.

Fantastic Four takes a more comedic tone with the entire film rather than the dark X-Men, semi-lighthearted Spider-Man, or brutally realistic Punisher. From the very beginning you know the film is going to be a fun ride providing enough one-liners (mostly from Evans’ Torch) to keep you chuckling and enough action to keep you entertained.

Still, there are some glaring problems in the way the film is executed. Director Tim Story may not be the ideal choice for a director (especially after Taxi), but with the script he was given, at least he tried. One of the first real problems you come across is that the villain just isn’t that menacing. McMahon does a great job bringing the obviously underwritten role to the screen in grand fashion but the film seems to concentrate more on the conflict between the Fantastic Four rather than with Doom. That may be okay to do in the second or third movie of a franchise (a la Spider-Man) but after being introduced to these characters no sooner than 30 minutes ago, I don’t want to see them about to duke it out. This holds the relationship between Johnny Storm and Ben Grimm as an exception because that’s where all the films entertainment comes from.

You can also see why Fox nearly freaked when they saw Disney’s The Incredibles as several of the superpowers are identical here (invisible girl with force fields, nearly indestructible strong guy, and stretch-inclined person). While the powers themselves are pretty cool, they just don’t compare to Wolverine’s claws or Spidey’s webslingers.

The film’s climax comes off rather weak as well, lasting no more than a few minutes, and the “everything will be all right” ending rubs you the wrong way. Grimm had wanted to be freed from his craggy prison since it encompassed him, yet with a way out he merely lets it fall by the wayside, has a few drinks, and laughs it up.

I’m not going to rush and judge the franchise by its lead off film, but where other Marvel properties like Spider-Man, X-Men, and Blade managed to make a huge mark with well written, well directed firsts, Fantastic Four does not. Chock it up to stagnating in development hell for years, an inconsistent director, or a lame-duck villain, but I’m hoping the sequel offers up more of a film than an eye-candy spectacular peppered with comedy.

Warning: The following review contains spoilers.

I’ll just come right out and say it. With all the hype, hoopla, and press surrounding War of the Worlds, you would think it would be a better movie. Instead we are left with and E.T. meets Independence Day mash-up that is so poorly written even the “star power” of Tom Cruise can’t save it from being just another summer movie.

In fact, any marketing material that claims this film is an epic summer movie is clearly talking about Batman Begins. Even with the huge numbers put up opening day and this past holiday weekend, War of the Worlds is no where near the quality of film I was expecting. You’d think the team up between Cruise and Spielberg would generate the film to end all films, but by the time the credits starting to roll, I just wanted this movie to end.

You develop a love/hate relationship with Worlds, mainly because you want to like it so much, and the parts you turn your brain off and just watch the wanton destruction of the human race, you do like it. What inevitably happens is the destruction only makes up about 25% of the film leaving the other 75% to focus on the 2D characters so honed in on their cliché molds that nothing really stands out until the Rainbow Happy-time Care Bear Ending that makes you immediately want to lick the goo stuck to the theater floor in the hopes you might pass out.

War sees Ray Ferrier (Tom Cruise) inherit his two kids for the weekend while his ex-wife and her new beau race off to Boston to meet her parents. Like every single dad, Ray has no food in his house, his son hates him, his daughter is spoiled, and he rebuilds engines in his kitchen. Can you see the excitement building already?

When a freak storm causes lightening to strike one particular spot dozens of times, everything electronic shuts down as alien “Tripods” spring to life, having been hidden beneath the streets of New York, and every other major city across the globe. But these aliens aren’t the Reese’s Pieces eating, finger healing kind we’ve come to expect from Spielberg, no, these aliens want us dead, and they zap us with laser beams and harvest our bodily fluids as fertilizer.

SPOILERS FROM HERE ON OUT

Then the movie ends, just like that. You don’t even see it coming. It’s so abrupt and so sudden that Tom and I looked at each other like, “That was it? That’s how they’re going to end this?” It isn’t that the way they ended it was bad, it was the execution that really felt as though there was a third grade contest to write it, and this is what won.

The fact that you feel absolutely nothing for the characters is only a side-point to the overall disappointment. Cruise portrays Ferrier adequately, knowing that he doesn’t have a lot to work with, but Dakota Fanning’s Rachael and Justin Chatwin’s Robbie are so underwritten and paint-by-the-numbers that the déjà vu of, “I’ve seen this character 100 times before,” really starts to set in five minutes after they’re introduced.

Also, the primary focus of the film is Ray trying to get his kids to their mother in Boston, but why? It makes no real sense that he would brave big, busy cities filled with canon fodder instead of hiding out in the countryside and waiting to see what happens. In a moment of brilliance Ray actually does this only to meet one of the most insane characters I’ve seen all year in Tim Robbins’ Ogilvy. The relationship between Ogilvy and Ferrier tries to display the social underpinnings of humans under stress. This part succeeds, although it limps along until the act’s defining moment.

Spielberg’s direction is adequate to collect a paycheck, but there isn’t the magic and cinematography we saw in E.T. or Saving Private Ryan. Instead we get another by-the-book performance mainly used by the distributors to market the film.

I’m really not trying to be overtly harsh on the film, and maybe I’m making a point that Hollywood really can’t expect us to continue to go to the movies when they continue to release half-assed product such as this. There was so much potential here that it all feels wasted for the short term goal of making money rather than art. When the studios finally figure out that we wouldn’t mind a good movie (like Batman Begins) in the summer rather than this standard schlock, we’ll either be watching TV, or, better, listening to Orson Well’s radio broadcast and letting our imagination do the work.

To everyone associated with this film: try harder next time.