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I was finally able to screen the newest adventure from Warner Bros. and DC Comics Films, "Superman Returns," starring relative unknown Brandon Routh in the role the late Christopher Reeve rode to stardom upon.

Now, some 28 years after Richard Donner's classic "Superman" hit the big screen, director Bryan Singer ("X-Men," "X-Men 2"), with a trillion dollar budget, tries his hand at helming the ultimate graphic novel adventure.

Sadly, Singer is no Donner.

While wonderful to look at, and sometimes interesting to ponder, this newest version of the saga of the Man of Steel leaves one with an impressive vapidity; a passive disinterest and an emotional detachment which overwhelms one with a cold, empty feeling.

In an effort to do what last year's "Batman Begins" did to the Caped Crusader franchise – bring a new dark, brooding vitality to the series, "Superman Returns" succeeds only in making one wish for the deft hand of Donner, as well as the acting ability of Reeves, Margot Kidder (as Lois Lane), Ned Beatty (as a stupidly evil henchman, Otis) and especially Gene Hackman (as the best Lex Luthor ever).

The plot takes place supposedly five years after the action in Superman II (from 1981), when scientists discovered proof of such a world, Superman journeyed there (evidently without telling anyone of his plans) to find if it was possibly a living planet. It wasn't so now he's back – but things have changed in his absence.

Mainly, that his love interest, Lois Lane (Kate Bosworth, "Win A Date With Tad Hamilton"), is involved with the nephew of Daily Planet editor-in-chief Perry White, Richard (James Marsden, who played Scott Summer/Cyclops in the "X-Men" films) and they now have a young son about five-years-old.

He won't let go, however, even flying to her mansion to spy on and stalk her – in a very unSuperman-like scene.

Despite that last heartbreak, it's Lane's famous "Daily Planet" editorial, "Why The World Doesn't Need Superman," for which she will collect a Pulitzer Prize (huh?), that really stings Clark/Man of Steel.

That's one of the first problems I had with this version. In the first two films (nothing matters after part two), Superman saved Lane's life at least four times (from a helicopter plummeting of a skyscraper; from being buried alive in the desert; from a plunging elevator in the Eiffel Tower; and from going over the cliff at Niagara Falls. After all of that, she writes an article saying no one NEEDS him anymore?!

Then, in a nice bit of CGI work, the powerful hero rescues her again (from a plane plunging to earth), stopping the craft from crashing nose-first on the infield of a Major League baseball stadium. It's truly an awesome scene.

Meanwhile, in the frozen North, evil madman Luthor (Kevin Spacey, Academy Award winner for "The Usual Suspects" and "American Beauty") is out of prison and raiding Superman's Fortress of Solitude, making off which his collection of priceless crystals.

Routh is handsome all right, and looking close enough to Reeve (except his eyes are CGI'd blue from their natural brown) to keep us comfortable (his voice, though, is creepily similar to the late actor); so I have no real problem with him in the lead role.

Likewise, Sam Huntington as bumbling photographer Jimmy Olson, was adequately goofy in comic relief; while Frank Langella (as blustery Perry White) is good in just about any role he plays (see "Dracula" and "Dave" for proof of this).

The inclusion of Jack Larson (the original Jimmy Olson in the 1950s series), and Noel Neill (who played one of the Lois Lanes in that show) in cameo roles as a bartender and a rich, dying widow, respectively, was also a nice touch.

The other parts, however, do concern me. Bosworth is just too spineless and ineffective to be a hard-nosed reporter for a major newspaper, as well as the only real confidant our hero has in his life. To me, the spunky Parker Posey (who portrays Kitty Kowalski, Luthor's gun moll) would have made a much better Lois.

As for Spacey as Luthor, well, to me, he just is not evil enough. Gene Hackman had a deliciously devious demeanor, coupled with a madman's desire to rule the world – with basically realistic plans to do so. Spacey seems more of an annoyance than a real threat.

Another crime this movie commits, is that it goes on and on – at least 20 minutes after it should have concluded.

Now there will be fans out there who will no doubt blast me for this opinion, claiming how I dare I compare the 1978 and '81 films to this one.

To those detractors, I simply say that this new picture invites comparisons, utilizing the same opening credits, the same theme song, archival footage of Marlon Brando (as Jor-El, speaking dialogue from the original film), even the same scene where Superman flies Lois around New York (the only thing missing is Kidder's corny voice-over).

In a nod to Jim Carrey's "Bruce Almighty" – in which a regular Schmoe becomes almost omnipotent – Adam Sandler stars as a loser who is offered a "universal remote" control device, which gives him power over time and space – among other things.

The remote is given to him by the otherworldly Morty (Christopher Walken), who is tinkering in the bowels of a Bed, Bath & Beyond store. Actually, the plot is taken from the "Twilight Zone" episode, "A Kind Of Stopwatch," which originally aired on Oct. 18, 1963, but this contraption also allows Michael Newman (Sandler) to mute, pause, review his past and (especially) fast-forward things around him.

It's that latter feature, though, that causes the most havoc in his life, because as soon as he zips through one crisis (getting a cold, arguing with his wife, wishing for a promotion, having sex, etc.) after another, the machine programs itself, automatically forwarding through similar situations, and causing his existence to pass all too quickly before his eyes.

While he strives to climb the company ladder at his architect firm, he begins to use the thing to avoid the months and years of hard work it would take for him to succeed; soon, however, as in most films of this fantasy ilk, the bad side is revealed. While his brain is fast-forwarding through bits of unpleasantness, his body remains - with little or no reaction to the things actually going on around him in his family's reality.

Before he realizes it, his wife, Donna (Kate Beckinsale), is drifting away from him, and the relationship with his kids, Ben and Samantha (Joseph Castanon and Tatum McCann) is going to pot. Donna eventually divorces Michael and marries swim instructor, Bill (Sean Astin, "Lord of the Rings," "50 First Dates"), while the kids grow up estranged from their father. He's a big man at his company, sure, but no amount of success on the job can compensate for failure in the home.

The lesson here is to spend as much quality time with your loved ones ("Family comes first") and there are no quick fixes in life. A bit maudlin and sappy, at times (although there are some pretty funny moments), plus about 10 minutes too long for my taste; but nice supporting work from Walken (who steals the picture), Henry Winkler and Julie Kavner (as Michael's meshugana parents), as well as David Hasselhoff, as his weirded-out boss, make this one of Sandler's better vehicles.

Not his best - that was "The Wedding Singer" (so far) - but good enough to enjoy.

This "film" is nothing more than two episodes of the short-lived (actually, that's an understatement, considering the show lasted only from Sept. 23-Oct. 28, 1976) NBC series, "Gemini Man," which was itself simply a re-warmed version of David McCallum's "The Invisible Man," also a failure from the same network earlier that year.

In this program, Ben Murphy ("Being From Another Planet," "Alias Smith & Jones") plays "Sam Casey," an employee of Intersect (a government think-tank of some kind), who, because of an underwater explosion, and by using a special watch, has the power to become invisible -up to 15 minutes a day. This is based, very loosely, on something that H.G. (Homer Gump) Wells wrote-once.

Murphy's co-workers include Katherine Crawford as "Dr. Abby Lawrence," who serves no useful purpose other than to get in the way (or observe the proceedings on a large TV screen), and his boss, "Leonard Driscoll (played by William Sylvester, "Devil Doll," "Gorgo," "2001: A Space Odyssey)," who is also obsessed with the "elusive" Robert Denby.

First segment has an evil scientist (John Milford) trying to embezzle money for some reason by hiring the dimwitted Murphy to drive a semi full of explosive "tripaladene" (so named because it "triples vehicle mileage"), across the country.

During this silliness, he (and, unfortunately, the audience, as well) meets up with one-time minor league pop and country star, Jim Stafford ("Spiders And Snakes," "My Girl Bill," "Wildwood Weed"), typecast perfectly as a braid-dead, redneck trucker named "Buffalo Bill.

His introductory shouts of "Ah'm on t'hair! Ah'm on t'hair!" over his citizen's band radio bring back all of the horrible memories we thought had vanished with C.W. McCall, Cletus Maggard and all of the other idiots who populated the high point of the C.B. craze.

Later on, Richard Dysart (a decent actor who starred in "L.A. Law," and "Being There") makes a cameo appearance, but it doesn't do any good, although the conclusion of that part, when Milford is taken away and Sylvester's hair looks like Bill Murray's at the end of "Kingpin," is drop-dead (unintentionally) hilarious.

Part two features Murphy, posing as a pit crewman for the ever-annoying Stafford, who has miraculously become a stock car racer. Both work for Denby, who finally shows up in the form of Ed Nelson ("Teenage Caveman," "Night of the Blood Beast"), and is a villain who invents a radio that can blow things up, or something to that effect.

This half is lamely tied to the first by Murphy saying to Sylvester, "I understand you grew a mustache while I was away," and proves, if nothing else, that stock car racing was just as boring in 1976 as it is today.

Highlight comes as Stafford, attempting to perform during "Amatuer Night" at the Pit Stop Saloon, gets into a fight with a Robert Shaw look-a-like and a Margo Gortner clone. He later lets out an embarrassing series of whoops in a public restroom because he's allowed to drive a car that eventually explodes.

While all of this takes place, Crawford is watching, unemotionally, on a big TV screen from Intersect headquarters. There is NO explanation for this, and no practical demonstration on HOW there can be cameras at the various locations, but thinking about this too much can be mind-boggling, so I'll leave it at that.

The end has Stafford "singing" a "thank you for saving my life" song to Murphy, while Crawford continues to watch - this time in SLOW MOTION! This garbage should have been left in NBC's dumpster where it belonged, and only serves as an interesting episode for the smartly satirical cable program, "Mystery Science Theatre 3000."

Film was produced by WNET in New York, with post-production work done in Canada (it figures). In the undetermined future, Aram Fingal (the late Raul Julia-"The Addams Family," "Kiss of the Spider Woman," "The Burning Season") is a data processor for the gigantic Novicorp Corporation, who, after being caught watching a much better movie -"Casablanca" - on company time, is forced to submit to a mental rehabilitation (called "doppling" here).

At the Nirvana Center (a large mall), he meets rehab programmer, Apollonia James (Linda Griffiths), who eventually becomes his tepid love interest. As he is "doppled" into the brain of a baboon (a series of stock footage with Julia's lame voice overs adds to the unintentional hilarity), a stupid kid on a tour switches his identification tag with a corpse. Why a group of unruly moppets are allowed to run free in an operating roam is never answered, by the way.

Meanwhile, Fingal, with the assistance of plot holes that Dom DeLuise could fit through, creates his own fantasy world based upon the classic, Academy-Award-winning 1942 film starring himself as Rick as played by Humphrey Bogart, Griffiths as Elsa (portrayed 350 million light years better by Ingrid Bergman), and Louis Negin as a prissy and annoying Peter Lorre knock-off.

The Chairman of Novicorp, "The Chairman" (Donald C. Moore) also joins in the fun as "The Fat Man," as if anyone cares. A confusing series of events is not left well enough alone as the ending clears up nothing, as the plot of "Berlin Alexanderplotz" was more coherent.

And what was the point of the whole cube thing; the "I've Interfaced!" baloney, the poorly-conceived masturbation scene; as well as the spinning electron Julias, anyway?

As bad as the writing and acting (Julia is twice as bad in a dual role and Griffith spends most of the time staring at a computer screen), however, it's the not-so-special effects that drop this turkey a few feet below sewer level.

Ultra-cheap graphics conjure up images of Pong, Wang Computers, the video by The Buggles, and the season they videotaped episodes of "The Twilight Zone." State-of-the-art technology it's not, and today, high school kids can design better looking graphics on the Macs. These not-so special effects make the juvenile work in 1980's "Puma Man" seem like Pixar animation.

Film also tries to tell us that ridiculous names such as Aram, Apollonia, Crull Spier, Emmaline Ozmondo and Geddy Arbeid, will be commonplace. An unforgivably bad motion picture on every level.

As putrid a piece of slop ever released, this Edgewood Entertainment crapper (aslo known as "Time Chasers") was filmed entirely in the state of Vermont, the least-visited and cared-about of all 50, and tells the ridiculous tale of Nick Miller (Matthew Bruch-one of the single ugliest leading men in cinematic history, in fact, he makes Rowsdower from "The Final Sacrifice," look like Brad Pitt), who invents a time-traveling device that is powered by a Wang computer and a Piper Cub.

He jumps (or flies) ahead to 2041, sees some "futuristic" stuff, then comes back and sells the invention to a huge corporation. Later, after a lame trip to the "1950s," he goes back to the future, where a cheap matte painting shows that a war took place and the (unnamed) city is in ruins.

He fights off a bunch of rejects from 2041, comes back to the present, hijacks his own plane, crashes it and kills his girlfriend, Lisa (Bonnie Pritchard), and then travels to the Revolutionary War, where he dies, but his double and his girlfriend's doppelganger are still alive, so they go back to the present just before he was to sell the invention, and stops himself from doing it.

Wow. Not only confusing, but boring and ridiculous (although it's a much better time-travel film than "The Lake House").

Here are some more specific "highlights" of just how amazingly bad this movie is: During a chase scene where Nick is trying to escape on a ten-speed bicycle, the bad guys actually get out of a truck they were in and pursue him - on BIKES.

Scenes in the future depict "actors" walking around in loud, garish, baggy clothing and talking on cell phones, much like they do today. There is also a sign that reads, "This building is constructed of recycled material, 2021." The voyage to the 1950s shows a few classic cars and a malt shop. The bad guys were not counting on being outwitted by an airport hangar custodian.

As bad as the two leads are, the corporate clowns (Peter Harrington and George Woodard-J.K. Robertson) are just plain awful. The Revolutionary War scenes are included for no other reason than to show off a bunch of fat re-en-actors, and during these sequences, the single dumbest lines ever written for a "Mystery Science Theatre 3000" episode is uttered: Speaking of some fleeing American colonists, running from machine gun fire, Nick says, "I don't think they've ever seen an Uzi before." Duh! No kidding.

Terrible from every vantage point, the movie is nonetheless perfect fodder for the satirical minds at "MST3K," if nothing else.

Movie is an Associated Film Dist. Corp. release of a Galaworld Ldfilm-Gordon Films production, directed by Lindsey Shonteff, and tells the story of a ventriloquist who is outwitted by his dummy. This plot has been done better many times before including the "Twilight Zone's" version, "The Dummy," The Great Gabbo (1929)," and "Michael Redgrave's segment in the chilling, "Dead Of Night" from 1949.

You know it's going to be bad, though, because picture takes place in England, and the headliner is the pale, gaunt, pock-mocked loser from "The Projected Man," Bryant Haliday, the poor man's Anthony Cardoza. Also on the menu is the pudgy, laconic William Sylvester, who has appeared "Riding With Death" and "Gorgo," as well as "2001: A Space Odyssey."

Haliday plays "The Great Vorelli," a ventriloquist with a tacky beard and a dummy named Hugo that can perform amazing routines, such as walk towards the audience and eat ham. The act basically consists of Vorelli berating the dummy and arguing with it like a second-grader (saying things like "The sawdust in your stomach will explode," and "You're ugly.").

Vorelli then ingratiates himself into a rich family with an above-average-looking daughter (for Britain), Marianne (Yvonne Romain). He hypnotizes her to fall in love with him, which makes her "boyfriend," reporter Sylvester, pout like a little baby.

Here's my gripe with that. It seems in a lot of these films, the hero is someone who doesn't deserve it. Like the reporter is "Teenagers From Outer Space," among others. They get the girl with no effort, while the villain, or alien, in some cases, in much more interesting.

Here, Vorelli is homely, deeply disturbed and psychotic, but he's light years more intriguing than the dullard Sylvester - which makes me wonder what a normal-looking woman would see in him in the first place. And as much pawing and groping as Vorelli does to his assistant, the brief make out scene between Sylvester and Romain is nauseating beyond description.

Anyway, Sylvester, with the help of several pug-ugly Brits, discovers that Hugo is embodied with the spirit of a murder victim from Berlin. However, Sylvester's obsession with Hugo borders on the perverted and makes you want to slap him around, especially during the scene where he sneaks in a room to fondle it.

A lame fight at the end (not unlike the one that concludes "Santa Claus Conquers The Martians"), however, causes Hugo to become "alive" and take Vorelli's place, while the audience is left feeling sad and empty, not unlike Vorelli's sex life or Hugo's cranium.

The film, a Universal release of a Protelco-MLC production, is a boring retelling of the theory of breaking down the molecular structure of an object, capturing it in a cell as "pure energy," and then sending it back complete to a "target area." There is no explanation WHY this is necessary, but Professor Paul Steiner (played by pock-mocked actor Bryant Haliday, "Devil Doll") thinks it's something to dedicate his, and his assistants', Pat Hill (Mary Peach) and Chris Mitchell (Ronald Allen), lives to.

During an experiment before noted Dutch scientist "Lembach" (Gordon Heinz), his machine fails due to sabotage, so he has himself "projected" by his secretary, Sheila (Tracey Crisp) to seek revenge. Of course, she screws up and he comes out looking like a "pork roast" with the power to electrocute people.

With this new-found power, he manages to zap some Cockney idiots, a security guy named Latham (Derrick de Marney) and his lab boss, Dr. Blanchard (Norman Woodland). He also is able to break into a pharmacy and steal a pair of rubber gloves and a black coat, as well.

In the end, though, despite Hill and Mitchell's attempt to help him, the clown destroys his equipment and himself. On the whole, a completely pointless movie with no message at all.

Also one of the most depressing color films you will ever see.

This film, written, produced and directed by Tony Zarindast (the poor man's Cy Roth), is one of the worst post-1990's movies since "Hobgoblins." Plot goes something like this: A human skeleton with a dog's skull is unearthed on an archaeological dig in the Arizona desert. This event causes two idiots to get into a fight, where one of them is scratched by a bone, and turns into "the least successful werewolf of all-time."

Actually, it wouldn't be fair to use the term "wolf," or any other member of the wolf family, since it resembles more of a bear, a bat, a cat, or a monkey in various incarnations.

During those crucial scenes, Martin Sheen's dumpier, homelier brother, Joe Estevez, make a few cameo appearances, and just like Emilio's career, disappears quickly and mercifully.

While villains Noel (Richard Lynch) and Yuri (George Rivero) take the bones and explains the legend of the Yomiguchi, or "the man who walks around on all fours" to a disinterested audience, dim-witted Natalie (Adrianna Miles-who conjures up vivid memories of Angelika Jager, the bizarrely-accented chick from Season One's "Robot Holocaust"), stands around, dull-eyed with mouth agape, uttering lines like, "This is fascinating," and "You and Paul is a weer-wilf."

Halfway through the film, two more inane characters appear, Paul (Fred Cavalli), who looks like Andy Kaufman's "foreign guy," and a goofy, bearded clown named "Sam the Keeper," who is a cross between Fidel Castro and Santa.

At a party, Paul humiliates Yuri, so, in revenge, the latter gets a security guard drunk and turns him into a lycanthrope, who crashes his car into a pile of oil drums. Later, Paul proves his ultimate effeminacy by being beat up by Yuri, hit with the canine cranium, and transforming into the second-least successful werewolf of all-time.

In the meantime, Rivero is going through multiple hairstyle and color changes, until the final scenes where he looks like Joe Pesci in "JFK." So, basically, this picture is nothing but bad hair, bad accents and worse acting.

Stick to the original "Wolf Man," or even "Teen Wolf," if you want genuine thrills. Watch this one (especially the "Mystery Science Theatre 3000" version) if you want some unintentional laughs.

Below sewer-level movie, directed by Alberto De Martino and starring once-decent thespian, Donald Pleasence ("Fantastic Journey," "Halloween," "The Changing Of The Guard" installment of "The Twilight Zone") as the villain, and non-talents Walter George Alton (a person not worthy of one name, let alone THREE), Miguelangel Fuentes and Sydne Rome, among others, is so bad it's great (if that's conceivable).

Minuscule plot has Alton as paleontologist, Tony Farm, who finds an ancient Aztec mask, and thanks to a huge, square-headed mongoloid (Fuentes, with a Moe Howard haircut) - who keeps following him - he reluctantly becomes Puma Man, one of the lamest super heroes since William Katt.

Pleasence, playing another bad guy role, is just as lisping an inept as he was in all of his other movies. Needless to say, he and his moronic henchmen are out to retrieve said mask because it has the power to make people fly at odd angles and rip through cardboard sets.

To say that this film is bad would be an insult to the term. Horrible, beyond ludicrous "special" effects, insipid acting, unbelievably stupid dialogue and cheesy 1970's TV soundtrack music make the entire enterprise unintentionally hilarious.

And Alton's turn as the lead consists of an hour of wooden sleepwalking followed by an idiotic ten-second outburst. Ultimately, however, it's the block-headed Aztec who turns out to be the hero, and the concluding "battle" is the silliest since the end of "Santa Claus Conquers The Martians," or "Rocky V."

"Squirm," is a repulsive piece of compost written and directed by Jeff Lieberman (come back, Ed Wood, all is forgiven!), which relates "the most bizarre freak of nature ever recorded (unless you count Al Gore)."

Film "stars" Don Scardino as Mick, a most unappealing nerd from the city (it never says WHICH city, but, then again, it doesn't really matter, does it?), who comes to Fly Creek, Georgia, to visit the pathetically pale, thin and most uncommonly unattractive Patricia Percy.

There's a minor summer storm which causes the electric wires to fall to earth sending worms (or, in this case, slugs and millipedes), to appear in strange places, like Mick's "egg cream."

Supporting characters, including an effeminate sheriff (Peter Mac Lean), a demented worm farmer (R.A. Dow), a wacky antebellum mom (Jean Sullivan) and a slutty, undernourished little sister in laughably-huge platform shoes (Fran Higgins), among others, who go way over the top with their phony Southern accents; as the worms (looking like slimy piles of slowly moving ground round) kill a few crackers and inbred rednecks.

And that's the problem with this movie. Let's face it, friends, worms, no matter how electrically-charged they are, or how ferociously close-up they are filmed, just aren't scary. Plus, there's really no new ideas here that haven't been used in countless horror pictures.

Case in point, not only do the worms devour the flesh of their victims, but they also seem to have an incredible knack for hiding the bones so that local law enforcement can't find them, thereby casting doubts on those reporting the incidents and allowing even more hicks to be eaten.

Hey, it's a cycle I can certainly live with.

This movie, a Cinema Shares International Television, Ltd released directed, if one could use that term, by Richard Ashe and starring such untalented hacks as Chase Cordell, Donna Leigh Drake, Gregorio Sala, and Patrick Wright, among others, makes "Stay" seem coherent and "The Lake House" seem downright rousing by comparison.

What there is of a plot has mineralogist Paul Carlson (Chase) and his idiotic friends Johnny Longbone (Professor Salinas-Sala), Butt Healer and some dopey chick, on an archaeological dig somewhere in New Mexico when photographer, Cathy Nolan (Drake), who dresses like a hooker (but without the good fashion taste), comes into their midst.

Naturally, Paul and Cathy fall for each other and the story follows the same old pattern of boy-meets-girl, boy-and-girl-spend-night-on-mountain top, boy-gets-hit-in-head-with-meteorite, boy-goes-crazy-and-becomes lizard-monster, boy-kills-several-homely-extras-and-finally-dies. We've seen it all before.

We know SOMETHING is going to happen to Paul, because after he's conked on the coconut with a moon rock, the Kleenex he used to wipe off the blood begins to glow. That's a pretty good indication of trouble, friends.

There's also a cliché cracker sheriff, a drunk bowler, some old farts playing cards, a bow and arrow contest, and Johnny Longbone, who, when not pontificating about the old Indian legend of how a lizard and a coyote created the Earth, bores everyone to tears about his stew.

But the real weirdness of this film occurs with the musical interlude of "California Lady," sung by a Robin Gibb-looking guy and his two lame back-ups. Why the director felt the need to include this untalented goofball in the film can probably be explained thusly: 1) The guy was his brother-in-law, 2) He owed the guy a favor, 3) The guy was his homosexual lover. You decide.

Meanwhile, Carson spends most of the film without a shirt, but his hairless pink chest wouldn't even turn on the most unattractive woman or loneliest gay guy in the free world. In the end, though, even his bare chest cannot prevent him from glowing bright red (after Johnny Longbone shots him with an arrow made from another moon rock) as the picture comes to a welcome and merciful conclusion.

The movie, a Brencam Entertainment/Berton Films release, is one of the more bizarre pictures to come along in a way, and is nothing more than two poorly-conceived, barely-frightening horror stories cobbled together and loosely tied together with the flimsiest of plot devices.

It begins with a drunken medium consulting a Ouija Board and then being killed. It turns out that this was only a TV show being watched by Ernest Borgnine (who played the tough in "From Here To Eternity," won an Oscar for "Marty," then appeared in such shows as "McHale's Navy," "Air Wolf," and "The Single Guy") and his grandson, Mark Hurtado.

After the electricity goes out, Borgnine relates two stories he "wrote for television" to the skeptical kid dealing with the never-asked question of what if King Arthur's wizard, Merlin, were alive today ("Merlin used his powers to come to our time," Borgnine drones).

The first episode features an infertile jerk of a newspaper columnist in a small Northern California town, Jonathan Cooper III (John Terrance) and his co-dependent, wife, Madeline (Patricia Samson, who pines for a child). After insulting everyone around him, and uttering a great unintentionally-hilarious line ("I chew places like this up and spit them into the toilet!"), he is given the wizard' book of spells and told to go to town on them.

Merlin (George Milan), by the way, looks like a cross between Leon Russell and that one Oak Ridge Boy, and speaks like a gay guy on Novicane. A description of his wife, Zerella, played by Bunny Summers, is best left unwritten, suffice it to say, Lulu from "Hee Haw" mated with the Loch Ness Monster comes pretty close.

Anyway, Cooper, after mocking Merlin, starts looking through the tome, and talking to himself on a tiny tape recorder, but eventually begins to cast some of the spells. This of course leads to some goofy scenes of things flying about, him being attacked by a cat, and then turning into an old demon that looks like Saleri from "Amadeus; and finally a baby that his wife can now raise instead of the one she couldn't have.

The next story features a small-time crook who steals a toy cymbal-playing monkey from Merlin's store (nothing else - just the stupid monkey) and then pawning it off. The buyer then gives it to Michael (Struan Roberts), the son of an addled single dad, David (Bob Mendlsohn), who plays with it, briefly, before moving on to toys that are more fun and interesting.

For some inane reason, whenever the monkey bangs its cymbals, someone, or something (a plant, a fly, a goldfish, and a dog) dies. Which makes you wonder why Merlin even had it around to begin with. Another mystery is that why two different women would actually think that a normal 10-year-old boy would even want such a thing, or why the burglar thought it was valuable in the first place.

Oh well. This plot device gives us a chance to see two really goofy scenes, though. The first has the little moppet singing "Rock 'N Roll Martian" to it like that one retarded kid in "What's Eating Gilbert Grape," and then David, being told by an angry "psychic" to get rid of the toy, but not to "let it know you're trying to get rid of it." So, the idiot begins cleaning his living room, trying to knock the monkey into a trash bag while whistling ("Do da do do da. Not thinking' about demons No demons").

Even after throwing it away, the stupid little kid fishes it out of the garbage can and is almost run over by a "stud" cruising for chicks in a Country Squire station wagon in a residential neighborhood.

The dad has no choice but to take it out in the country and bury it, which only causes the earth to shake and David to almost get swallowed up as the world cracks like a China cup. Once again this begs the question of why a toy monkey that plays cymbals would have such power over life, death, time, space and nature. Couldn't it have been a more terrifying symbol than a cheap child's toy?!

Later, after having a tree fall on him and almost dying trying to get rid of the thing, David discovers that his moronic mom brought it right back into the house. Merlin finally comes into the home and takes it back to his shop, placing it back on a shelf instead of destroying it.

Yikes. For those who have never had a bad acid trip, seeing this film will give you just an inkling of how it would actually feel.

Film, a Ted Mikels Production, "stars" Jody Daniel as "Critter," a long-winded draft-dodger (sort of like Bill Clinton), who teams up with a slutty dullard of a waitress, Michelle (Leslie McRae), and dime store thug, Buz (Tom Page), on a trek to an L.A. strip club, The Haunted House. "The Incredible Journey" this ain't.

Opening title song, performed by Chris Howard & The Third World, is as inane as "Never Steal Anything Wet" by Mary Wells (which opened "Catalina Caper") and "Ha-So Stratosphere Boogie" by Jimmy Bryant & His Night Jumpers (which introduced "Skydivers") and, to make things worse, they play it about 10 times throughout the movie!

Other songs, including "Wheels Of Love," "Everything I Touch," "For You," "Do You Want To Laugh Or Cry," "Hello Michelle," "One Good Time, One Place," "Lonesome Man," "Cowboy Santa," and "Strange Things," make this one of the worst musical soundtracks since "Incredibly Strange Creatures......," "Newsies," "Grease 2," and the remake of "Lost Horizon."

Buz, the poor man's Regis Philbin (who, himself, is the poor man's Joey Bishop) first meets Michelle gyrating awkwardly to a jukebox in a run-down greasy spoon, and claims she should dance professionally, even though she has no talent, whatsoever. And, since his sister, Joan (Bara Byrnes) is the "number one attraction in Los Angeles," she decides to leave her abusive, drunken father and go with him.

Along the way, they meet up a couple of wimp bikers, pick up the hitch-hiking "Critter," frolic with a guy in his goofy beach buggy, and rob a mom and pop store. Of course, the two guys get into a fight over Michelle, who, with her huge face, stringy hair and caked-on eye make-up, is slightly less feminine than Harvey Firestein in "Torch Song Trilogy." And her acting makes one yearn for the professionalism of ANY of the women in "Pin Down Girls," "Charlie's Angel's: Full Throttle."

They finally arrive at the club, which, evidently, actually existed (complete with a huge mouth for a stage with nostrils that randomly spews steam for some reason) in a time when good taste and a pleasant atmosphere obviously were not very important to patrons. Once there, Michelle, despite her aforementioned lack of talent, rhythm, looks, brains, coordination, athleticism, or charisma, is hired immediately, and soon vaults passed the pill-popping Joan, while Critter and Buz get rewarding positions as a janitor and a drug pusher, respectively.

The club's owner, Leo McCabe (Mark Herron), comes from the Carlo Lombardi-Great Vorelli sleaze school, with a henchman (Marty-William Bagdad) that looks like Ortega's (from "Incredibly Strange Creatures") cousin.

And, in the tradition of past washed-up pop stars who've appeared in B-movies (see Little Richard, the Cascades, Platters, Mel Torme, and Paul Anka, among others), Preston Epps, who had a #14 hit with "Bongo Rock" in 1959, makes an embarrassing cameo during the party scene.

In that particular sequence, Michelle's complete lack of dancing skills are never more evident as she drunkenly sways about the room in most humiliating fashion. Later, as tough and athletic as Buz is supposed to be, he's easily chased down by a pudgy, middle-aged, bald jail trustee (Harry Blatz played by Harry Lovejoy), who looks like a cross between Victor Buono and Dabney Coleman.

Anyway, to make a long review even longer, Buz, in a fit of stupidity, kills Harry, but he, Leo and Marty are subdued by the pacifist Critter, who, seeing the error in his peace-loving ways and joins the Army, just in time to be shipped of to Indo-China.

A profoundly bad counterculture movie that makes itself worse by actual selling out in the end. for all his rebellious talk and swagger, Critter thinks it's best to and fight for Uncle Sam.

I weep for the soul.

Okay, so Jack Black is no Buster Keaton or Harold Lloyd when it comes to physical comedy. He's also no Groucho Marx or W.C. Fields when it comes to intellectual humor; and I did not go to his newest work, "Nacho Libre," expecting to see a Preston Sturges or Billy Wilder comedy masterpiece, either.

What I did see, however, was a film that is stupid with a capital "S" but funny enough in it's 90-minute run to persuade me to give it a slight recommendation. I laughed more often than not, so, it worked for me.

Black slobbers a meandering Spanglish accent all over the place playing Ignaciao ("Nacho" for short), a dumpy goofball raised in a rural Mexican orphanage, who later becomes the single worst cook in the world (which he blames on the friars for not buying him proper ingredients). He's not very competent in his monk's duties, either, as he gives the last rites to a man who was just sleeping. Secretly, however, he learns to be one of the Lucha Libre (masked wrestlers who earn fame and adulation in the nearby village).

When the beautiful nun, Sister Encarnación (Ana de la Reguera), comes to the brotherhood, though, he wants to impress her by providing a better meal than the terrible refried beans and chips he serves every day. Seeing a poster in town for a luchador wrestling match which pays the winner 200 pesos, he recruits Esqueleto (which means "The Skeleton," played by Hector Jimenez), a lanky street criminal who once stole the orphanage's nacho chips, and they form a ridiculous tag team.

In cheap, homemade outfits, and with no grappling skills whatsoever, the duo loses, naturally, but gets paid anyway (because the crowd likes them). The losing continues, even though the two attempt to hone their skills by hurling fruit, arrows, rocks and beehives at each other, and climbing up a cliff to drink the yolk from an eagle's egg. Despite earning more and more money (which Nacho uses to buy "important" items like white shoes, polyester stretch pants and powder blue leisure suits), they would like to win a match - at least once.

Conveniently, a battle royale between six other grapplers to decide who will fight the local champion, Ramses (Cesar Gonzales) for $10,000 pesos. When Nacho finishes second to El Silencio, he's booted out of the monastery, but things might just work out for the forlorn loser, anyway. And while this is clearly Jack Black's film, much of the picture is stolen by Jimenez (sort of a whacked-out beanpole Cantinflas), who has some of the best lines and is involved in a few hilarious situations.

Written by Mike White (who penned Black's "Orange County" and "School Of Rock") and the Hess' - Jared and Jerusha ("Napoleon Dynamite"), and directed by Jared Hess ("Napoleon Dynamite"), this isn't going to rate very high on the Cary Grant screwball comedy meter, with far too many scenes of people passing gas, and the slapstick level a notch or two below the Three Stooges.

Overall, though, unless you are really uptight, or buy into the nonsense that this movie is somehow offensive to Latinos, you'll probably snicker at the total absurdity of the effort.

This is "Speed" in reverse, as that film's two star meet in a weird, meandering time trip of a love story that is as pointless as it is plot less; and is as dull as watching beige paint dry. It's like watching George Clooney's "Solaris," only with slightly better acting.

Dr. Kate Forster (Sandra Bullock) carries on a very long distance love affair with architect Alex Wyler (Keanu Reeves). Long in that his reality is 2004, while hers is two years later. Don't ask how this is possible; they somehow just end up communicating through letters left in a mailbox at a lake front home in Chicago.

They even meet - twice - at a train station and at her birthday party. Of course, this is in 2004, and he knows her, but she doesn't know him. All the while the pacing is interminable.

Movie is made even slower by having everyone speak in hushed tones and acting as if everything they say has the most profound importance. The only one who raises his voice is Alex's bellicose father, played by Christopher Plummer ("The Insider").

In the end, however, for no reason whatsoever, Alex catches up with Kate. How this occurs is left to our imagination. And, it seems the whole enterprise was created to teach Alex how to properly cross a busy street. Other than that, most people left the screening as befuddled as I was.

The main problem was that there's no explanation on any major plot points here, such as how the time jumble occurred in the first place, or especially, how Alex was able to catch up to Kate's current reality. Wouldn't he always remain two years behind? Things just take place and we're supposed to take them for granted.

Of course, now people will use the worn-out clichés that we "just didn't get it;" or that we're "too shallow" and cannot comprehend such a "thoughtful, deep, moving" motion picture; basically that whoever doesn't like this movie is an idiot. More power to anyone who understands and enjoys this film. I just cannot count myself among these individuals.

Just because this film takes itself far too seriously, doesn't mean I have to.

I suppose if I had cared anything for the original live-action "Garfield" (based on Jim Davis' once-popular comic strip, from 2004), I would have liked this one better. Suffice it to say, however, if you have children, there are certainly worse movies you could take them to.

I can't think of any of those right now, but I'm sure there are worse ones.

Plus, it always grated on me that while the title character was a (very cheap) CGI creation, all of the other animals in the movie were real.

What was THAT all about?!

Anyway, since it's difficult for a an adult critic (as I have been accused of being at times) to judge a picture like this, I brought along my daughter to see this one with me – just to be fair. When she only laughed at a few parts of this movie, I knew my assessment was not wrong.

This is a ridiculously stupid film.

Based on the much better Mark Twain story of the "Prince and the Pauper," the animated feline (voiced by Bill Murray) somehow gets mixed up with a pampered cat (voice of Tim Curry) living on a huge English estate.

There's trouble afoot, though, as British stand-up comic, Billy Connelly, the nephew of the late owner, wants his share of the property and will do anything to get rid of the animals which inhabit the place, including trying to drown the Prince, shoot a duck and threaten his lawyers with a crossbow.

You see, he wants to build a resort on the land - Oh, why even go on?

Just because they move the location to the British Isles doesn't mean that any more class or intelligence was added to this stupid series. The dialog is silly and humorless, the situations are absurd (even for a goofy movie like this), and there's no chemistry between the two leads, Jon Arbuckle and Liz (Brekin Meyer and Jennifer Love Hewitt, even though the whole adventure revolves around Jon prosing marriage to her). Fortunately, we see very little of this tepid couple throughout, so I suppose it's not all terrible.

But the biggest crime of all is wasting the talents of Murrary, Bob Hoskins (a bulldog's voice), Curry and Connelly on this enterprise which smells like a full litter box in July.

In fact, as allergic as I am to the meowing beasts, I'd rather spend 90 minutes in a room full of them than to ever have to see another "Garfield" flick again.

Cat got my tongue? No, just my brain - for the duration of this movie, at least.

The pairing of Robert Altman ("M*A*S*H," "The Long Goodbye," "Come Back To The Five and Dime, Jimmy Dean," "The Player," "Gosford Park") and Garrison Keillor, the creator of the long-running radio show, "A Prairie Home Companion" (and author of "Lake Wobegone Days") for a film version of PHG may have seemed a bit odd at first, but the results are inspired.

The former's frantic, non-stop dialogue-fueled energy mixes well with the latter's laid-back, down-home, almost sleep-inducing style (with a voice so syrupy you could pour it over your flapjacks), to create Altman's best ensemble work since 1975's "Nashville." In fact, there's a lot of that classic film in this telling of PHC's last night on the air.

There's also some of "Waiting For Guffman" and "A Mighty Wind," in the mix, making this film a parody and a homage all at the same time.

Narrated by Kevin Kline (who plays security officer Guy Noir, complete with a decades old pinstriped suit), like Bogart's Sam Spade in any number of 1940s detective films, "Companion" weaves a fascinating tale of a radio variety show that should have "died 50 years ago; only no one told" the performers. Now, with a Texas corporation buying station WLT in St. Paul (the bloodsuckers represented by Mr. Axeman - Tommy Lee Jones), and planning to shut it down, this is it's last Saturday night performance.

And what a bittersweet performance it is. Down home homilies, songs of faith, banjo and guitar pickers, sweet harmonics, a torch song or two, a pair of hilarious cowboys, Dusty and Lefty (Oscar nominees Woody Harrelson and John C. Reilly), the singing Johnson sisters (Meryl Streep and "Nashville" vet, Lily Tomlin, the latter almost sure to get her second Academy Award nomination for this role), and commercial messages (for shoes, herring, rhubarb pie filling, coffee and powder-milk biscuits) that are blatantly ridiculous (yet oddly persuasive)- all presided over by Keillor's gentle ringmaster. By the way, even though he's basically playing himself, Keillor's performance is marvelous, as are all of the actors.

These warm moments balanced out Altman's silly subplot of an Angel of Death (Virginia Madsen, "Candyman," "Sideways") who visits the set of that last episode, giving the entire enterprise a rather unnecessary otherworldly feel.

Nevertheless, with some powerful performances, some great tunes and skits (the bad joke song by Dusty and Lefty is the funniest thing I've seen on the screen in a long time), the crisp writing Altman and Keillor are known for, and an interesting storyline, "A Prairie Home Companion" is well-worth the effort to see (even though you may have to go a bit out of your way to do so). It's moving at times, and a bit surreal in places, but overall a thoroughly enjoyable slice of Americana.

They's taken us - happily - into the realm of toys, bugs, monsters, fish, and superheroes, those masterful storytellers and technical wizards at Pixar Animation Studios ("The Incredibles," "A Bug's Life," "Finding Nemo," "Monsters, Inc."), and Academy Award-winning director John Lasseter ("Toy Story," "Toy Story 2," "A Bug's Life").

In their latest endeavor, the team hits the road with a fast-paced comedy adventure set inside the world of automobiles, the aptly-titled, "Cars." Lightning McQueen (voice of Owen Wilson), a hotshot rookie Mustang driven to succeed, discovers that life is about the journey, not the finish line, when he finds himself unexpectedly detoured in the sleepy Route 66 town of Radiator Springs.

During the film's opening scene, an exciting NASCAR race that is as thrilling to watch as it is to wonder at its creative technology, McQueen battles beloved veteran, The King (Richard Petty) and obnoxious cheater, Chick Hicks (Michael Keaton). The surprise outcome results in a special winner-take-all contest in California.

On route across the country to the big Piston Cup Championship in Los Angeles to compete against the two seasoned pros, McQueen gets accidentally stranded (by his idiot driver, Mac, Pixar voice-over veteran John Ratzenberger), but gets to know the town's offbeat characters - including prosecuting attorney, Sally (a snazzy 2002 Porsche voiced by Bonnie Hunt), the town judge, Doc Hudson (a 1951 Hudson Hornet with a mysterious past, voiced by Paul Newman), and the goofy, drawling Mater (a rusty but trusty tow truck voiced by Larry The Cable Guy) - who help him realize that there are more important things than trophies, fame and sponsorship.

But before he learns this lesson, McQueen, who has wrecked the town's only street, is sentenced to repave the thoroughfare - and he is not happy about it. He hates the backwater berg and all of the supposed yokels who reside there. He even tries to escape several times, but the authorities have drained his fuel. Slowly, however, he understands how much pride the locals have in this quaint community that was once a beautiful haven along that famous American road, even Sally, who has just recently moved there. Of course, McQueen begins to see her in a new light, as well.

The most interesting relationship, however, is between the brash young McQueen and the dark mysterious Doc. There is a very good reason the elderly gentleman does not like race cars, but it takes a while before the kid finds out why.

The all-star vocal cast also includes free-wheeling performances by racing legends Darrell Waltrip (as Darrell Cartrip) and Mario Andretti, as well as Bob Costas, Tony Shalhoub, George Carlin, Katherine Helmond, Paul Dooley and Cheech Marin, among others. As funny as the situations might be, and as big of a heart as this story has, I was continually amazed at the animation technology. The bright shiny vehicles, the beautiful sunsets, the painted desert scenes and, especially Radiator Springs spruced up in art deco neon. All of this makes "Cars" easily one of the best films of the year, not just the summer.

It may not be Pixar's greatest creation, but it's good enough for this humble scribbler.

P.S. Don't leave before the credits finish, though, as the conclusion is drop-dead hilarious.

Evil Roy Slade (Made For TV, 1972, director: Jerry Paris) - I first saw this movie when I was a small child (in an era of rather clever movies of the week), and then a few more times after that. I have not viewed it in over 25 years, however, but I still recall it being one of the funniest films I ever saw.

The humor was dark enough to attract my laughs, but not insulting or offensive (somewhere along the line, Hollywood forgot how to walk this delicate balance). Slade (John Astin, Gomez on TV's "Addams Family")is orphaned after a wagon train is attacked by Indians. No one (even the native-Americans or wolves) will aid him, so he ends up being raised by vultures with just an old teddy bear for a companion.

Naturally, he grows up mean and vile, eventually becoming the leader of a gang of bank robbers. During a heist, he meets pretty schoolmarm Betsy (Pam Austin) and it's love at first sight.

After he quits the gang, Becky tries to reform him, but railroad executive Mr. Stool (Mickey Rooney), hires retired singing sheriff, Big Bell (Dick Shawn, "It's A Mad, Mad Mad, Mad World") to capture the reforming outlaw.

With Dom DeLuise, Milton Berle, Edie Adams, John Ritter (later to star on "Three's Company"), Pat Morita (of "Karate Kid" fame) and narrated by Pat Butrum (Mr. Haney on "Green Acres"), "Evil Roy Slade" was one laugh riot from beginning to end. Maybe it's nostalgia for those good old days, but with others out there expressing the same viewpoint, I believe this picture still holds up well today.

Funniest line of dialogue that I remember: Betsy is trying to teach Slade mathematics. She asks, "You have three apples, and your neighbor has three apples. If he takes three of your apples, what do you have?" Slade: "A dead neighbor and all six apples."

Although this fits firmly into the "It Could Have Been Worse" dept., one has to wonder if Hollywood has completely run out of original ideas, or if re-working old classics has become a cottage industry to lazy scriptwriters in these dark times.

And while it's probably not very objective of me, I could not help comparing the newest Warner Bros. release, "Poseiden," with its predecessor, 1972's "The Poseiden Adventure." This comparison occurred before, during and long after I viewed the screening of the $160 million revision. And, needless to say, the side-by-side examinations were not favorable to the latter version.

First of all (and I fully realize most people out there under 20 – the core group this film is aimed at – have never heard of, let alone seen, the original film), let's talk about the cast.

In 1972, despite a somewhat goofy script, we still had Academy Award winners Gene Hackman, Ernest Borgnine, Shelley Winters, Red Buttons and Jack Albertson in leading roles. Even four-time Oscar nominee Arthur O'Connell had a cameo role, Leslie Neilson (before he discovered comedy) was the ship's captain, and Carol Lindley, Roddy MacDowell, Stella Stevens and Eric Shea (the little kid who was the voice of Linus in the early "Peanuts" cartoons) rounded out the competent ensemble.

That movie even had the Grammy-winning, No. 1 single, "Morning After" as its theme song.

Today, we have Oscar winner (for 1977's "The Goodbye Girl") Richard Dreyfess, as a gay architect; Kurt Russell, as a former fireman and Mayor of New York (that's what I said); Josh Lucas (fresh off "Glory Road" as a Navy veteran who seemingly knows everything about luxury liners); Emmy Rossum ("Phantom of the Opera"), as Russell's promiscuous daughter, Jennifer; her empty-headed boyfriend, Christian (Mike Vogel, "Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants"); and Jacinda Barrett ("Bridget Jones: On The Edge Of Reason"), as single mom, Maggie James, towing her annoying offspring, Conner (Jimmy Bennett) along with her. You don't have to be Neptune to see this latest group just does not match up.

After a "rogue" wave capsizes the ship just after New Year's Eve, this group disobeys the captain (Andre Braugher) and heads down, I mean up, to find an escape route through the propeller shaft.

Okay, here's another problem I had with this version. In the original, we are told of an earthquake off the coast of Greece, which caused a tsunami. The crew was alerted to be on the lookout for a possible huge wave (although the curling action we see in both movies is physically wrong for a wave in the middle of the sea). It appears on the ship's radar, and though the passengers know nothing of it, we feel the tension of seeing the huge wall of water engulf the vessel.

Here, there is no tension because the wave appears out of nowhere (I suppose that's why they call it "rogue," but still ...). All of the same effects are in effect when the boat tumbles over - people and objects being thrown about, guys falling into skylights, water flooding various compartments, fire and explosions under water (don't ask), and various extras being crushed, drowned and/or roasted like peanuts. The one interesting scene is when the wave hits, there are a group of people washed out of the top deck's swimming pool.

Like the '72 picture, the gang is plagued with many obstacles, a few interesting twists, some really claustrophobic and lung-aching moments (as much of their time is seemingly spent underwater), while a few of their number is quickly reduced by death. And there are certainly many more gruesome demises than in the first picture, to be sure. Plus, the FX are newer, although not necessarily better.

Another thing that bothered me was the complete lack of character development. We're told that Lucas is a veteran (who works better alone), and that Russell was a firefighter (who thinks his daughter is too young for sex), but that's about it. Then there's Dreyfus' character calling his lover and crying, getting no message back and tossing his cell phone overboard.

No explanation necessary from director Wolfgang Petersen ("Das Boot") about this whole storyline, I guess. Or the scene where Dreyfus is ordering a $5,000 bottle of wine for his dinner guests and mumbling about the "war scare" being over. What was he talking about?! Then there's the completely unnecessary inclusion of a drunk, male chauvinist Kevin "Platoon" Dillion, whose death is right of the "Ha ha, he got what's coming to him," notebook.

The sequence where the little boy is suddenly washed under some kind of wire enclosure also boggles the mind, since we know nothing of how he gets there, or how he is ultimately saved. It just happens. And, of course, as soon as the captain convinces everyone to stay where they are, we know that's the death knell for these unfortunate dopes.

Besides the updated special effects, however, there is really no reason to see this one as long as the original still exists, so why bother? Just rent or buy the '72 version and get ready for some hokey lines, but an overall much better adventure than this sterile film can offer.

While Scientologist Tom Cruise forces his young wife Katie Holmes to undergo a "silent birth," he nevertheless subjects the audience of his newest film to an ear-shattering series of explosions, gunshots, car crashes, jet engines, violent arguments and bloodcurdling screams. That's not to say "Mission: Impossible III" is a bad movie – just a little loud, that's all.

What puts this one a little above the average action/adventure, however, is the inclusion of a bona fide actor (like Cruise used to be), Philip Seymour Hoffman, fresh off his Oscar win for "Capote." I've appreciated his work long before that, though, especially in "Flawless," "Magnolia," "Almost Famous," "Empire Falls" and "Cold Mountain," among others. In fact, he was even good in the Ben Stiller/Jennifer Aniston bomb, "Along Comes Polly."

As the bad guy, Owen Davian, Hoffman brings a fresh new dimension to the typical movie villain, who appears, menaces and then gets killed. He's an international weapons dealer, who (despite little backstory and questionable motivation) squeezes out every minute of screen time and makes you wish Cruise wouldn't hog so much of it.

He is suitably evil (telling Hunt how he will hunt down his wife, torture her and kill her in front of him), but with a boyish, pudgy charm that makes us relate, somewhat, to him. It's a terrific performance in an average motion picture.

The plot has covert IMF (Impossible Mission Force) agent Ethan Hunt (Cruise) about to be married to a nurse, Julia (Michelle Monaghan, "North Country," "Mr. & Mrs. Smith"). No longer active in operations, he is now an instructor for new recruits, but you know this status won't last forever.

Julia doesn't know, of course, about his real job, believing him to be employed by the Virginia Dept. of Transportation, but this ruse is soon shattered when a young agent Hawk trained, Lindsey (Keri "Felicity" Russell) is kidnapped by Davian's organization. These guys are attempting to sell some kind of biohazard device, called the "rabbit's foot," to an unnamed Mideast power.

Hawk is sent in to rescue her, along with his team, Luther Stickle (Ving Rhames), Zhen (Maggie Q) and Declan (Jonathan Rhys Meyers, "Match Point"), but a device detonates inside her head (don't ask), killing her.

The group then travels to the Vatican and kidnaps Davian, only to lose him when a most unlikely twist takes place. Friends who Ethan thought would support him do not, and those he assumed would betray him aid his cause. It's all very confusing, but still entertaining in a lowbrow kind of way.

Now free, and really ticked off at Ethan (because he dangled him outside of an airplane), Davian arranges the kidnapping of Julia, which forces the inevitable showdown between the two combatants. Ably directed by J.J. Abrams (behind many "Lost" and "Alias" episodes), "MI3" is non-stop in its intensity, and is thrilling enough to keep what's left of Cruise's fan base in their seats.

While I have this opportunity, I'd to write a few things about the 1983 classic film, "National Lampoon's Vacation." It's the hilarious tale of the Griswold family of Chicago, led by the ever-positive nebbish, Clark (Chevy Chase), who decides to cancel a scheduled trip to Hawaii to instead take the clan to Wally World in Los Angeles – driving all the way.

The comic misadventures the family goes through, including side trips to Dodge City, the ghettos of St. Louis, the Grand Canyon and their Cousin Eddie's (Randy Quiad) rundown farm in Kansas. Also on the trip, the family's Aunt Edna (Imogene Coco) dies, Chase tries to impress the very sexy Christie Brinkley, and ends up finding the amusement park has been closed for repairs.

Why am I writing so much about this 23-year-old film? because it saves me from writing about it's new inferior clone, Columbia's "RV," starring Robin Williams, who hasn't made a funny movie since "Good Will Hunting." Oh for the subtle nuance of Mork from Ork.

Williams' latest "comedic" feature is bred from a cinematic linage born with the Lucille Ball/Desi Arnez picture, the "Long, Long Trailer" in the early fifties, and continued through 2004's "Meet The Fockers," but it isn't at all humorous.

He plays Bob Munro, who is forced to cancel a trip to Hawaii with his spoiled brood, and instead has to rent a recreational vehicle and travel to Boulder, Colo. to sell soda – or something like that.

Immediately, the predictability of this movie sets in. After he rents the large vehicle, we KNOW things are going to go wrong. It does. Munro cannot work the seat belt, he can't drive it, the sewer system backs up, dishes fall out of the cabinets, the parking brake is broken, the stove doesn't heat up, etc., etc., etc.

Along the way, they meet the doofus Travis Gornike (Jeff Daniels) family, which is the only saving grace in this film. Later, Munro continues to get into a lot of ridiculous situations, losing his laptop, battling raccoons, get lost in the mountains, almost killing himself and totally wreck the Winnebago and learn a little about how stupid and shallow they all are.

Then there's the toilet "humor," which isn't even remotely funny. Save your money and just rent or buy "Vacation," you'll thank me for it.

When the screening of "United 93" came to an end last week, several members of the San Diego Film Critics Society commented that this would be a very difficult film to review.

I concur with those sentiments, but I had no problem giving this a high recommendation. It's not an easy film to watch, but I believe people should see it, if not as a tribute to those who died, then as a remembrance that due vigilance is constantly necessary in these dark times.

Some may disagree and call it "propaganda," but that is patently ridiculous.

Based on the United Airlines Flight 93, the fourth U.S. jet hijacked on Sept. 11, 2001 (and the only liner not to strike its intended target), this movie has the intentional feel of a documentary, and is thus difficult to really criticize.

Much of this reasoning is that the picture tells a straight enough story, with little or no dramatic embellishments (other than to speculate what exactly took place on-board the doomed craft) in real time, from take-off to its ultimate crash, approximately 90 minutes.

What there is, however, is a moving, powerful, gut-wrenching, emotional work by director/writer Paul Greengrass ("Bourne Supremacy," "Resurrected," "Bloody Sunday"). Nevertheless, he will no doubt take some heat form some uninitiated film-goers who equate this movie with a piece of propaganda, but that could not be further from the truth.

Greengrass plays it fairly even down the line, and cockpit voice recordings, as well as last phone calls from passengers and crew seem to indicate his vision of the plane's hijacking seem pretty close to factual.

Of course, no one is going to know 100 percent of what happened aboard flight 93, since no one survived its ultimate crash in Shanksville, Penn. at 10:05 a.m. on Sept. 11, 2001. However, this much is true: Four terrorists, led by Saeed Al Ghamdi (Lewis Alsamari), forcibly commandeered the aircraft and most likely killed or disabled the crew, Capt. Jason Dahl (J.J. Johnson) and First Officer LeRoy Homer (Gary Commock), as well as one or more passengers.

One of the hijackers, Ahmed Al Haznawi (Omar Berdouni) has brandished a fake bomb, which keeps the passengers at bay long enough for Ghamdi to turn the San Francisco-bound craft east towards Washington, DC.

Stunned by the events, but believing them to be completely isolated, the passengers are shocked to discover – via cell and air phone conversations – that planes have already smashed into the World Trade Center's Twin Towers and the Pentagon.

They now realize this is not a hostage situation, that the flight is to be used as a missile against an unknown target, and they will probably not escape with their lives.

It's then that the passengers, mainly Todd Beamer (David Alan Basche, "War of the Worlds") Joseph DeLuca (Ray Charleston, "Out For A Kill"), Jeremy Glick (Peter Herman, "The Treatment") and Mark Bingham (Cheyenne Jackson, "Curiosity"), attempt to retake the plane.

And while these scenes are gripping enough, the real fascination (for this scribbler, at least) comes from the segments in which the various civilian and military air traffic controllers, as well as other technicians, come to the cold realization that something horrible and unprecedented is taking place in the nation's skies that autumn morning.

The drama that builds as controllers scramble to identify possible hijacked planes (American Airline Flight 11 and United 175), and their investigation into 93's dilemma, is excruciatingly tense.

"United 93" also exposes some serious miscommunication between civilian and military authorities, with no one knowing much of anything until it is way too late.

Another interesting touch is that Greengrass chose not to populate the picture with big names, which would have diluted the impact (in fact, several roles are actually played by real ATC personnel, recreating the positions they held in 2001 for this movie).

This is not an easy film to watch, but I could not look away. And while some make scoff at the conclusions made by Greengrass, this is nevertheless a moving and thought-provoking piece of work.

The stunningly successful TV show, "American Idol," is ripe for parody and, finally, Hollywood has come around and satirized it (although) whether it's really funny is up to you the viewer. I thought it had its moments.

Martin Tweed (Hugh Grant) is the upper class, acerbic twit host of the nation's most popular show, "American Dreamz" (with a "Z"), which clobbers the competition and weekly draws more voters than presidential elections.

Everyone seems to watch the program, even those residing in a small terrorist camp on the Afghanistan-Iraq border.

Seeing this worldwide opportunity, a Dick Cheney-like vice-president, Sutter (Willem DeFoe), convinces the dimwitted Chief Executive, Pres. Joe Staton (a totally unsubtle G.W. Bush, played by a spaced-out Dennis Quaid), to appear as a guest judge on the season finale of the show to boost his sagging poll numbers (despite the fact he was recently re-elected).

The Prez is so stupid, he doesn't know what a newspaper is, and needs cartoons as visual aids in his daily briefings. He also has to have DeFoe speak for him through a hearing aid/microphone contraption.

Meanwhile, blonde sweetheart, Sally Kandoo (Mandy Moore), from Ohio, dreams of winning the contest, no matter who gets hurt; as does rich, gay Iraqi-American, Iqubal (Tony Yalda), but his terrorist cousin, Omer (Sam Golzari), is somehow chosen instead.

The show sequences feature the typical Idol contestant: a gay, Clay Aiken character, a bald white dude, a black woman with a big voice and a bad hairdo, a long-haired rocker, and an Orthodox Jew. Okay, the last one isn't exactly typical, but played by Adam Busch (TV series "House"), he's hilarious.

Grant gets to play the Simon Cowell character and insult most of these singers (although we don't really get to see enough of that). Most of the plot revolves around Sally, her pushy stage mother, Martha (Jennifer Collige, "Waiting For Gufman," "Best Of Show," "Date Movie"), puppy dog boyfriend, William Williams (Chris Klein, "American Pie," "We Were Soldiers"), and sleazy agent (Seth Meyers, a cast member of "Saturday Night Live").

Subplot has goofy terrorist cell member Omer winning week after week with his bad singing and over-the-top dancing (taught to him by Iqubal), until he reaches the finals. He's then recruited to blow up himself and the President on live television.

Conclusion has everything going array, but the show getting even higher ratings because of the total breakdown. It's a decent parody of the genre, which has become even more popular in real life. Stupid film has enough laughs (mostly through pokes at "Idol," the War on Terror, George W. Bush and other current pop culture icons) to keep one entertained throughout much of its one hour, 45 minute running time.

Especially funny are the scenes where the lisping, prancing Iqubal turns his cousin into an American celebrity, who "Omerizes" the nation.

A character in Disney's newest animated feature, "The Wild," says, "I'm glad we were able to see the wild before it disappeared." I'll amend that slightly by adding, "Try to see 'The Wild' before it disappears quickly to DVD."

In this newest computer-animated comedy-adventure, an odd assortment of animals from the New York Zoo – including a lion, a giraffe, an anaconda, a koala, and a squirrel – discover what a jungle the city can be when one of their own is mistakenly shipped to the wild and they embark on a dangerous mission to rescue him. It's a formula Disney has used ad nauseum, but in this case, it wears very thin.

The film boasts an impressive vocal ensemble,including "24's" Kiefer Sutherland (as the respected lion leader, Samson), Greg Cipes (as Samson's stupid, pouting son, Ryan), Jim Belushi (as Benny, the street savvy squirrel and Samson's best friend, although why a squirrel would be in a zoo – and associate with a meat-eating great cat – is something I don't quite understand), Janeane Garofalo (as a wisecracking giraffe and the object of Benny's affections), Richard Kind (as a dim-witted anaconda, Larry), William Shatner (yep, Capt. James T. Kirk himself, as a wicked wildebeest), and Eddie Izzard (as Nigel, an acerbic and completely annoying koala) –along with cutting edge animation, which is quite impressive and lifelike.

It's the story and script that leave this reviewer befuddled, however. It's simply a cross between "Lion King" and "Madagascar," with more unnecessary animals and some really weird declarations thrown in. The jokes, despite being machine-gunned at the viewer, often miss their mark, leaving us totally puzzled over what has just been said (by whatever creature), why it was just said, and what any of it means. Strange, almost non-sequitors are fired off, as well, with little or no meaning to the overall storyline, or what there is of it.

Basically, the plot has a motley group of animals going from the Bronx to Manhattan to a tugboat to some unknown African island (eerily familiar to Madagascar)to find Ryan, who ran away because he cannot roar like his dad. Seems Samson can do almost anything, although his "wild" tales of his prowess in the jungle may come back to haunt him and his friends.

There, the group discovers - get this - that the venue's wildebeests, led by the aforementioned William Shatner ( a ham in any role), is tired of being on the bottom of the food chain, so they decide to be carnivores by eating a lion. Yep, that's pretty much it. They decide to eat Ryan. Not that I minded (his character is particularly idiotic and irritating), but I didn't know a species could suddenly change millions of years of evolution in a few days (hey, who am I to argue, however).

The film also includes bizarre, perfunctory characters that appear for no reason, and then vanish just as quickly (for cheap, throw away laughs, no doubt). These include a Punjab-speaking pigeon and his dancing wives; a gang of rabid dogs (including a manicured French poodle), a jungle rat that complains because tenderhearted Samson won't eat him, and a hippo and a kangaroo that talk like surfers and stalk gazelles.

Overall, the whole thing is pretty pointless, and most of the laughs were clearly unintentional.

Director Steve "Spaz" Williams and producer Clint Goldman helped to revolutionize CGI character animation during their long association with ILM ("The Mask," "The Abyss," "Jurassic Park," "Terminator 2: Judgment Day"), and were responsible for the acclaimed Blockbuster Entertainment commercials featuring Carl the rabbit and Ray the guinea pig – remember those? And while it's nice to look at, there should be much more to a movie like this (see "Toy Story 1 and 2," "Shrek 1 and 2," "Finding Nemo," "Robots," "Monsters, Inc.," "Antz," for examples of great animation woven with interesting, intricate story-telling.

With the amount of animal-centric animated movies being released lately ("Valiant," "A Shark's Tale," "Ice Age 2: The Meltdown," "Chicken Little," "Over The Hedge," etc.,) this film may end up getting lost in the shuffle, and that wouldn't bother me a bit. Children will no doubt love the colors and animals, but will probably not get - or laugh at - many of the awful jokes thrown about. I know I certainly didn't.