Running time: 115 minutes

Rated: R (for violence, sexuality/nudity, language and substance abuse scenes)

Quality: 3 stars out of 4

The Wrestler is a modern-day version of old-school boxing movies and revolves around Randy The Ram Robinson, a heap of HGH-muscles and long tresses bleached to suit his own sport that’s also his occupation. However, a professional wrestler needs to be a costumed character in the real world and also must feel his real pains outside the wrestling ring. Randy The Ram does that with ease though a combined effect of the disappointments and the aching joints of these brooding, broken men (Rourke and The Ram) pin you to the seat in the most palpable way possible.

The storyline is entirely based on a man fading into obscurity every passing year and on a hunt for a human connection, just like it was in Rocky; that makes The Wrestler equipped with all the right buttons that control the urges to seek redemption and fight back. Old-fashioned yet soulful; with the participation of a beef-faced Rourke and backstage wrestling schemes, blood, snot and sweat, it’s been quite sometime that we faced anything this real and raw.

But still, somehow, The Ram seems a fake in comparison with Rourke- the real King of the ring. However, we need to wait and see whom the Academy Award makes the winner in the best actor race.

Traversing into the uncomfortable territory of harrowing war crimes shows glimpses from the writings of Bernhard Schlink. An impetus borne out of the shameful, guilty conscience descends on the viewers as they learn about the secrets emanating from World War II – the what-s, how-s and why-s of the things that happened to fascinate us with nuances that create some very critical moments.

A personal view though: this film may increase reading habits. Reading books, as foreplay is not a very common concept and that may become a fad. At least, works like The Lady With The Little Dog, War and Peace and Lady Chatterley’s Lover shall find a new reader base as Huckleberry Finn and Tin Tin have.

The least this haunting story of the reader deserves is the highest acclaim. Both Kate Winslet and David Kross are absolutely dazzling in their respective roles, especially in portraying the different pains and conflicts and imparting the story a shocking, surprising and unsettling aura. Rooted in the Holocaust, it’s a very different catastrophic approach from a very valid angle.

That has brought in apparently everything that everybody wants including usual genre thrills, fresh twists and a lightning-fast pace. There’s also present an increasingly economic use of exposition that keeps you on the qui vive. Despite the gaping holes in the plot that do not reveal initially, you’ll like it, for you understand it’s difficult keeping up with all the intricacies in the narrative.

But Push also has its moments. Beyond the characters blessed or cursed with extrasensory abilities, Push rewards the patience with some highly bona fide and inventive plotting that weaves around Nick (a Mover or possessor of telekinetic powers), his father’s murderers The Division and his self-exiled life in Hong Kong (now a gritty melting pot of dusty tenements, ramshackle markets and incomplete skyscrapers) where Cassie (a Watcher i.e. clairvoyant) brings up Nick’s trouble and leads him towards his destiny. But now comes the difference: Nick, the protagonist is not a messiah in spite of all his powers. He knows using them but not very proficiently. That makes him solve problems by moving objects rather than by devising perplexing, diabolic acts or plans.

An unconventional cerebral approach definitely deserves a credit and it goes to this seemingly action sci-fi. It does Push the genre boundary, but paranormal parameters must confine only the gaming world.

Overall, a teen stuff that’s fun to watch despite director Paul McGuigan’s bedeviling flashback usages.

This time the Superheroes are under threat. Watchmen story is set over a mid-80s alternate American Society. Costumed superheroes now are everyday things; so is the Doomsday Clock. It charts the tension between USA and Soviet Union. The clock is permanently set at five minutes to midnight. The threat is Rorschach (Jackie Earle Haley) who sets for uncovering a plot that shall get rid of every superhero that was created. Masked, washed up and determined, it’s the murder of his former colleague that turned him to a vigilante. Formerly a part of an anti-crime-fighting legion comprising ragtag, retired superheroes, – Rorschach catches a glimpse of a deep, wide and disturbing conspiracy. A shared past leading to catastrophic consequences, who sent them for the mission to keep humanity under an unceasing watch?

Watching-s

From a striking comic book fantasy to a 160 minutes film with massively extravagant special effects and fabulous themes, the backdrop is set on a time that’s long past; to be precise, the mid-1980s. An impending nuclear war brought together a few but intriguing characters – the troubled Super Heroes. Flashbacks tell us their respective pasts where brilliant strikes share space with partly distorted storytelling. But that again helps in the tension and resolution of the moments. To go through the storyline, pour yourself a digital tea.

A murder, a ransacked room and a tossed body condense into a coherent but often garbled storytelling. Smart pathos of The Comedian, an unrecognizable Dan and a black-latex wearing Silk Specter for whom Dan has soft corners, all get together to deliver a cinematic visual effects bash. A mind-blowing experience with margins for the storytelling hiccups.

Absolute power now stays with only one Super Hero; therefore, it’s not tough guessing there shall be graphic violence and blood over a layer of sensual carnality – all in galore; the unexpected relationships and the related emotional pathos as well.

The journal entry approach towards the storytelling brought forth some good narrations and great lines. We don’t hear everyday stuff like “A burial in the rain; only your enemies leave roses” or “The night reeks of fornication and bad consciences.”
However, Watchmen’s insertions of ignited dialogue-slabs and scenes of mayhem and carnage makes the viewer believe it’s a reminder of there is a point in bringing up the dark and derisory humanity.

But nonetheless, the sheer energy and hearty effort created an intensely graphic, bloody violent and bloody sexy film. An effects-laden extravaganza on a romantic backdrop and centering on family secrets – targeted young males – you are in for nursing a lasting impression.

The movie is based on what’s happening all over the world right now; hooligans commandeering a busy shopping mall but this time with a difference – they are not asking for any hefty amounts as ransom but the credit-card security codes. So Paul Blart – Mall Cop jumps into the scene. And what follows can be best described as an unending series of jokes that are predictable at best. Blame the director (Steve Carr) for that, but also don’t spare the star and the co-writer (Kevin James) of the movie. But he must get a little more share of the blame, being one of producers of the movie.

The movie definitely deserves a few credits for the funny moments and for the humor, but being a lazy one, it fails to grab your attention for long. And of course, it’s the formulated twists and turns that stop surprising you before you are even halfway through.

The villains or the bad guys here lack that bad feel a bit too much; they fail to shoot and think straight and shows up as one of the biggest drawbacks of the film. The others are none but Blart’s portrayal; agreed that specialization is for insects, but trying to stretch one’s own capabilities without learning how to do it properly is – at best – ridiculous. You cannot be gung-ho and a lovesick puppy at one breath and turn into an oversized action hero in the very next. That’s a plain lack of character development but then again, may be that’s why the film also lacks any foul language, graphic violence and the rest that define today the one good guy against so many bad people movies. Recommended strictly for the kids who haven’t learnt yet to think beyond the waterguns.

The story starts with an ageing Walt at his wife’s funeral enduring the snide preachments of a young priest. Walt is a racist but tolerates the priest only to show respect to his dead wife. He shows a similar air towards his own sons and grandchildren, to his neighbors – particularly to the Hmong family, whom he sees to be nothing different from the 13 Koreans he fought and bumped off.

But Walt is also a hater of everything that undermines decent values. This reflects from his behavior when he spares Thao (his teenaged neighbor) even after catching him attempting to steal his Gran Torino. A dangerous meeting, but it changes both their lives.

Clint Eastwood didn’t act in this movie; he just laid a sumptuous banquet. Any other actor in this role would have been a complete failure. It’s not easy to portray one’s own self as a racist, a reactionary and a bigot at one hand and an owner of a heart-of-gold on the other. But that’s the most common thing when you are 78 years old; we have seen many-an-old-folk in real life to combine elderly mannerisms with cowboy menace. Add to this his legendary narrow-eyed gaze showing righteous loathing, a facial mark left by telescopic gun-sights and the curling of his lips for that silent snarl, they all gel perfectly with his soft growls.

So how did the movie fare? As good as its hero, though the bumpy plot transitions could have been smoothened out keeping at par with Walt’s smooth transitions towards becoming a better person. However, the transformation – at best – is questionable.

Marley, the central character is a boisterous canine while Owen Wilson and Jennifer Anniston – as it seems – merely supports its role by calling its name repetitively. However, the film starts off on a rather funny note that fades later into annoyance. Being longer than any average movie, it camouflages the appealing, realistic performances of both Owen Wilson and Jennifer Anniston.

To cut it short, the director perhaps had an intention to give Dennis the Menace a canine form, but even Dennis hasn’t failed so many times as this darling, mischievous puppy has had in an obedience school; neither has he wrecked this many furniture or destroyed (almost) an entire house. But perhaps that’s because Dennis wasn’t left alone like Marley had been by his owners when they went on a vacation. However, it’s truly moving to see how much John loves Marley despite all his atrocities.

But still, Marley & Me rates as the worst dog-movie ever made and it seems the PG emblem is just a marketing strategy to flock in the kids who are always on the lookout for suggestive content and themes.

The formula is an old one – of high school football stars trying to score a chick or two from the cheerleading camp and the involvements of a team of writers spanning over varying ages and sensibilities become evident. Narcolepsy unbound; so are misogyny, homophobia and half-hearted satiric mix of elements from American Pie, Porky’s and Bring It On, but without the on-screen actions that were galore in the three. Overall, an R-rated dirtiness in a PG-13 rating package, stamped with forced sexual euphemisms that deserves more of a sincere John Lennon quote rather than the characters boasting about being foolishly macho. An 89-minute of intolerable crude, sexual humor imbalanced with overtones of nudity and profanity; seems hypersomnia is defined in new lights.

A soggy tale about racism and class-consciousness that Madea deals with far more efficiently and entertainingly; thanks to her church-lady-from-hell image accompanied with matching remarks. That imparts a feel of Schizophrenia overall, though Madea Goes To Jail brings together a few glum street melodrama, each around 15 minutes apart. Channel-flippers shall love it though; interchange between the channels showing Push and Big Momma’s House alternatively and there you are!

But the shrillness of an overwrought Madea brings forth a loud, vulgar but interesting physical comedy, but that’s as per the thought too much of anything is funny. Here, we can replace too much with multitasking, for if you take into account the way wedding meanders through, you are sure to detect Perry’s scorn for subtle, cohesive affairs. Nevertheless, it defines his body of work; after all, why run after messing around with moneymaking formulas despite knowing his efforts are not going to earn him the Oscar?

Now, guess who fills the role of the protagonist in HJNTIY. It’s no human character; however ludicrous it may seem, it’s the cell phone that outruns the actors and actresses in the film! A few did comment that it’s because the cell phone brings the best of both worlds (it communicates unlike men and vibrates too!), but I think it’s just because the cell phone showed its colorful face almost in every scene (including the lovemaking ones!).

There are plenty feel-good moments in the film; be it observations on first dates, an anxious waiting in front of the telephone, wedding obsessions or temptations towards polygamy – at worst, these moments can be well fitted under the banners of cute, trivial, amusing, substantial or just plain witty. Wish this feel was present all through the length of “He’s just…” – it’s a real wonder how much trouble was taken to make such rhapsodic moments culminate into such a sharply uneven, inexcusably lengthy, incoherent and disintegrated output. It’s just the fun-level that keeps you awake over the two-and-a-quarter hours.

It’s definitely hot stuff for the young and not so young adults but then again, as per the definition, too much of anything translates to a comedy. But all that gibberish has been carefully knit into a smart and accurate weaving; if you are in your forties or above, you must have your fabric of patience as durable as coarse jute to sit all through it. But at that age, we attain it by default and chick flicks are the best if you want your bitter half to forget about your complaints on the burnt salmon last night.