rogerebert.com :: Reviews

Ryan Bingham is the Organization Man for the 2000s. He never comes to the office. Technically, he doesn't have an office, he has an address where his employer has an office. His life is devoted to visiting other people's offices, and firing them. “Up in the Air” takes the trust people once had in their jobs and pulls out the rug. It is a film for this time.

Brothers (R)

The good son and the bad son

"Brothers” is the new film by Jim Sheridan, a director who has a sure hand with stories about families (“In America” “In the Name of the Father,” “The Boxer”). This one is about a family twisted from its natural form when the father leaves for service in Afghanistan just after his brother comes home from prison. The good brother goes into harm's way while the bad brother is shielded by his own misbehavior.

Everybody's Fine (PG-13)

A father visits the pieces
of his fragmented family

A man in his 60s after the death of his wife is a leaky ship without a bailer. Frank Goode has everything above-deck shipshape, but he's sinking. The garden is his pride and joy. Everything inside is mopped, scrubbed, polished, dusted, arranged and alphabetized. He buys big steaks and a new electric grill to cook them on. He selects a wine with the advice of a clueless stockboy. He reclines in his lawn chair on his manicured lawn and awaits the arrival of his four children.

Fantastic Mr. Fox (PG)

I feel a strange compulsion
to pet that fuzzy fox fur

Some artists have a way of riveting your vision with the certitude of what they do. This has nothing to do with subject or style. It's inexplicable. Andy Warhol and Grandma Moses. The spareness of Bergman or the Fellini circus. Wes Anderson is like that. There's nothing consistent about his recent work but its ability to make me go zooinng! What else do "The Darjeeling Limited" and "The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou" have in common?

The Road (R)

Walking from here to anywhere
through nowhere, and worse

Note: I first saw "The Road" in September at the Toronto Film Festival, as one of eight films I saw in three days. I wrote a draft of a review at the time and sent it. That review accidentally found its way into sight in October, long before the film was scheduled to open. I yanked it offline as quickly as I could.

I saw the movie a second time at a press screening on Oct. 27 in Chicago. I see festival films again whenever I have the chance. I find the second viewing makes the good ones better, and the bad ones worse. Such is the case with "The Road."

Old Dogs (PG)

Know no tricks, new or old

"Old Dogs" is stupefying dimwitted. What were John Travolta and Robin Williams thinking of? Apparently their agents weren't perceptive enough to smell the screenplay in its advanced state of decomposition, but wasn't there a loyal young intern in the office to catch them at the elevator and whisper, "You've paid too many dues to get involved with such crap at this stage in your careers."

The Twilight Saga: New Moon (PG-13)

Worse than being a vampire
is being a vampire's lover

The characters in this movie should be arrested for loitering with intent to moan. Never have teenagers been in greater need of a jump-start. Granted some of them are more than 100 years old, but still: their charisma is by Madame Tussaud.

Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call, New Orleans (R)

The man who stares at iguanas

Werner Herzog's "Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call, New Orleans" creates a dire portrait of a rapist, murderer, drug addict, corrupt cop and degenerate paranoid who's very apprehensive about iguanas. It places him in a devastated New Orleans not long after Hurricane Katrina. It makes no attempt to show that city of legends in a flattering light. And it gradually reveals itself as a sly comedy about a snaky but courageous man.

The Messenger (R)

Don't touch them. Don't hug them.
Don't get involved in any way.

Maybe the only way to do it is by the book. You walk up to the house of a total stranger, ring the bell and inform them that their child has been killed in combat. When they open the door and see two uniformed men, they already know the news. Some collapse. Some won't let you finish before they beat their fists on your chest, crying at you to shut up, god-damn it, that can't be true. Some seem to fall into a form of denial, polite, inviting you in, as if this is a social situation.