THE POSSESSION

The new horror thriller The Possession is about a little girl who requires an exorcism to remove the evil dybbuk inhabiting her body, and it opens with a title card informing us that the film is "based on a true story." You know what I'm aching to see one of these days? An exorcism-themed entertainment that isn't based on a true story. Can you imagine how much fun these things could be if we weren't consistently asked to believe in them?

TINKER TAILOR SOLDIER SPY

You know that handy, lame, relationship-ending sentiment "It's not you; it's me"? That's what I feel like saying to Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, the new adaptation of the famed John le Carré novel. I readily concede that director Tomas Alfredson's spy thriller is beautifully made, boasting engaged, cagey performances and a number of superbly shot set pieces. But for all of the film's merits, I found myself hugely relieved when its end credits rolled, because Alfredson's intensely complicated endeavor appeared so much smarter than I am that I took almost no pleasure from the experience. My issue isn't that the movie is a dog. It's that, for most of Tinker Tailor's 125 minutes, I felt like a dog watching a movie.

BATTLE: LOS ANGELES

My number-one, hands-down, love-it-to-death favorite scene in the science-fiction action spectacle Battle: Los Angeles occurs roughly 40 minutes into the film. Hundreds of meteors have fallen to earth in urban centers around the globe, and are revealed to be teeming with aliens, who waste no time in annihilating everything and everyone in their paths. After engaging in long sequences of L.A.-based retaliation, a stalwart band of Marines is helicoptered into Santa Monica to fend off one of these attacks, and a frightened lieutenant ducks into in an apartment complex's laundry room, where he watches the horrific destruction through a window. Suddenly hearing a noise behind him, the man whips around, expecting to come face-to-face with one of the monstrous invaders from another world. Yet instead of terror, the lieutenant's face quickly registers relief, as the sound he heard was just that of the washing machine's spin cycle.

You know what that means, right? That in the midst of this apocalyptic showdown that, as we've witnessed on TV newscasts, has been going on for several hours now, someone in that apartment complex decided it was a good time to throw in a load of laundry.

FANTASTIC MR. FOX

Film scholars widely agree that 1939 remains the strongest year ever for American movies. But I'm starting to think that, as the decades pass, 2009 might be seen as a comparable year for animated movies.