Despite the rough language, physical peril, and copious nudity, this franchise extender is a family film. Its stunts are beyond crude, but its heart is unfailingly sweet.

On February 11 and 12 at Davenport's Outing Club, the Quad Cities' professional dance company Ballet Quad Cities will present its traditional assemblage of vignettes Love Stories, and this year's collection of Valentine's Weekend pieces will climax with what is perhaps the love story: William Shakespeare's timeless, tragic tale of Romeo and Juliet. Don't worry, though. Before Ballet Quad Cities breaks hearts, they'll be giving audiences plenty of reasons for cheer.

Following last year's “pandemic Oscars” that wound up nominating and awarding loads of titles that debuted on our TV screens, laptops, and phones, it made all the sense in the world for movie fans to be psyched about this year's return to a “traditional” Academy Awards. Finally! The chance to reward such critically acclaimed, crowd-pleasing box-office behemoths as Spielberg's West Side Story and King Richard's Rocky-esque tale of Venus and Serena Williams and the new Guillermo del Toro and … ! Wait. Where were the crowds?

This past weekend, I spent three-and-a-half hours watching movies in Iowa City. I also spent three-and-a-half hours reading movies in Iowa City.

The short version is that it's a queasy morality fable about a fallen woman who, due to the love of a faultless man, ultimately discovers the grace of God and mends her wicked ways. The longer version is that this earnest, tacky, largely offensive trifle is – thanks to a handful of unexpectedly resonant performances – a lot less icky than it should have been. Damned actors. The good ones can make almost anything bearable.

While this latest, incessantly meta sequel is frequently clever and easily watchable, it also kept reminding me, unfortunately, that there's a fine line between smart and smarty-pants.

There's nothing much wrong with the action thriller The 355 that couldn't have been fixed with a better director and a better script.

If you spend nearly two years working on your company's debut show, and it not only gets successfully produced but enjoys several sold-out performances during its run, what do you do for an encore? If you're the Haus of Ruckus' TJ Green and Calvin Vo, and your comedy “Jacques”alope turned into a hit for the Davenport venue the Mockingbird on Main, you return to the site of your previous triumph – and give yourself all of one day to stage something new.

Welcome to my 21 for '21 – a list of 21 cinematic favorites from 2021 (even if they were technically 2020 releases, and even if they didn't literally play at cinemas), along with 21 runners-up, and, because I'm only in half-bitchy critic mode these days, 10-and-a-half citations for the most egregious offenders of the past 12 months.

From its opening Meet Cute to its inspired roster of satiric figures to its rapturous finale in which two youths literally fall for each other (and into each other), Licorice Pizza all but bubbles over with euphoric high jinks, platonic-rom-com wit, and an unmissable desire to give audiences a great time. It's like the movie version of a chocolate-covered pretzel: salty and sweet, and something that, once consumed, makes you instantly crave more.

Pages