Vincent Cassel and Viggo Mortensen in Eastern PromisesEASTERN PROMISES

As I generally try to, I held off on reading reviews of David Cronenberg's Eastern Promises until I'd actually viewed the movie. (Admittedly, I occasionally fail at this task.) I was well aware of its hype - the film received the top prize at the recent Toronto International Film Festival - but also leery of it, as Cronenberg is a critics' darling whom I admire but whose works I usually don't. (Despite titles such as A History of Violence, eXistenZ, and Naked Lunch, the last movie of his I genuinely adored was 1988's Dead Ringers.)

Jodie Foster in The Brave OneTHE BRAVE ONE

For what is essentially a lurid revenge thriller, Neil Jordan's The Brave One is fascinatingly complex ... for a while.

Paul Giamatti and Clive Owen in Shoot 'Em UpSHOOT 'EM UP

Frequently unpleasant and almost pathologically violent, Michael Davis' action thriller Shoot 'Em Up is a joke, and the film's biggest detriment is that is takes too long for it to be an intentional one.

Christopher Mintz-Plasse, Jonah Hill, and Michael Cera in SuperbadSUPERBAD

Superbad, the wildly hilarious, subtly moving, and only-a-little-disappointing comedy about two youths hell-bent on securing booze for (and getting laid at) a high school party, is directed by Greg Mottola, but it's impossible to miss the imprint of its producer, Judd Apatow.

Matt Damon, George Clooney, and Brad Pitt in Ocean's 13OCEAN'S THIRTEEN

Memories of the meandering, tiresome, and ceaselessly smug Ocean's Twelve - Steven Soderbergh's first sequel to his 2001 heist flick Ocean's Eleven - were enough to make me leery about Ocean's Thirteen, and during the film's first reel, that feeling rarely subsided; it, too, seemed both simplistic and maddeningly convoluted, and inordinately pleased with itself from the get-go.

Margarita Leviera and Justin Chatwin in The InvisibleTHE INVISIBLE

Funny story. I caught director David S. Goyer's The Invisible on Friday afternoon, and later that evening, watched a TV show I'd taped a couple of days prior but hadn't yet seen. During a commercial break, there was a preview for The Invisible. Amazingly, it was the first trailer for the film I'd landed upon, which gave me the unusual opportunity to judge a preview based on its movie, rather than the other way around. And now that I have seen the teaser for the film - a 15-second scare-flick pastiche of screams, slash-edits, and a threatening shriek of "You're dead!!!" - I feel compelled to ask: Did The Invisible's marketing wizards not see the movie, or did they indeed see it, not have a clue about how to market it, and purposely create the most misleading trailer imaginable?

Simon Pegg and Nick Frost in Hot FuzzHOT FUZZ

Not that many of you have seen them, but in between Rodriguez's and Tarantino's Grindhouse offerings, there are faux "coming attractions" for forthcoming trash flicks, one of which is directed by Edgar Wright. The trailer in question is for a slasher film called Don't, and in about 90 seconds of screen time, Wright - director/co-writer of the peerless zombie comedy Shaun of the Dead and the new action spoof Hot Fuzz - manages to lampoon (and celebrate) just about every cliché in the horror-preview bible: the insidiously throaty voice-over announcer; the shock edits, punctuated by screams; the sudden bursts of outré violence. It's a brilliant, savage parody, yet the trailer's ultimate joke is that it's legitimately effective; you find yourself actually wanting to see Don't. Wright tweaks genre previews and outdoes them in the same breath.

Richard Gere and Julie Delpy in The HoaxTHE HOAX

Offhand, I can think of no performer less well-suited to play a desperate, talkative, Jewish novelist than Richard Gere. Yet in Lasse Hallström's The Hoax, Gere is asked to portray exactly that - real-life author Clifford Irving, who, in 1971, received a $1-million advance for concocting a fictional autobiography of reclusive billionaire Howard Hughes - and the perceived miscasting turns out to be the movie's subtlest masterstroke.

Rose McGowan in GrindhouseGRINDHOUSE

Within a few months, the Robert Rodriguez/Quentin Tarantino double-bill that composes Grindhouse - a three-hour paean to the joys of '70s schlock cinema - will have permanently ensconced itself on my DVD shelf, readily available for endless repeat viewing and analysis. But it's inconceivable that I'll ever again find the movie(s) as exhilarating as I did on my first viewing at the cineplex; not because the element of surprise will be missing, but because it's unlikely that any of my living-room screenings will find dozens of total strangers in attendance, and this movie demands to be seen with as large a crowd as possible. It will be thrilling to one day watch Grindhouse on DVD. It will also be almost completely pointless.

Martin Lawrence, Tim Allen, John Travolta, and William H. Macy in Wild HogsWILD HOGS

I try. Honest to God, when sitting in a crowded auditorium, watching a charmless, lazy, ridiculously unfunny movie such as Wild Hogs, I try to get on the audience's wavelength and figure out what it is that's making them howl with laughter.

Pages