Grade: A

The Descendants will make some people, myself included, reassess the hard-nosed belief that, once someone has betrayed your trust, they should be cut out of your life forever. As with everything else in life, it’s never as simple as it seems. This is a humbling realization, as anyone who’s ever been screwed over and made it through the five stages of grief will attest, but ultimately it is an empowering one. To forgive someone else often means coming to the realization that you must forgive yourself first. And regardless of the severity of the transgressions involved, coming to grips with one necessitates owning up to the other.

Matt King (George Clooney) is a married man who has lost his way. Somewhere in between getting married, becoming a lawyer and raising two daughters, he lost touch with his wife, Elizabeth (Patricia Hastie). But he’s finally ready to commit to being the husband she so desperately wants and needs… as soon as she wakes up from her coma. Twenty-three days ago his wife was involved in a boating accident off the coast of Hawaii, and she has yet to wake up. This is the first time he has ever had to take care of their two daughters by himself and it must have dawned on him how much he took her for granted. But not anymore.

This is Matt’s attitude before the doctor tells him his wife’s condition is so grave that she isn’t going to get any better and that, per her wishes, she will be taken off life support in the next few days and die shortly thereafter. As if that weren’t enough to deal with, while pressing his rebellious daughter Alexandra (Shailene Woodley) to let go of whatever problems she was having with her mother, he discovers his wife was having an affair and planned to leave him. Now, instead of making things right, all he wants are answers. But Matt isn’t even granted the most basic right afforded the cheated – the chance to confront his partner with the callow hope that she may say something to ease his agony or relinquish his rage. Instead, he is forced to find answers elsewhere. Namely, by hunting down the man Elizabeth was “seeing.”

On top of all this, he also has to determine what to do with a large chunk of land his family has inherited. Land that is worth a ton of money and of which he is the sole trustee. From his daughter’s addlebrained boyfriend, Sid (Nick Krause), to his disgruntled father-in-law, Scott (Robert Forster), to the cousins attempting to influence his decision regarding the land, and now, the man his wife was having an affair with (Matthew Lillard), there is no shortage of people fighting for Matt’s attention. Keeping his head above water through this ordeal is Matt’s sole task, and like it or not, we are along for the ride.

Clooney, in a role that seems to be the antithesis of his public persona, completely transforms into the inattentive husband and father fighting to keep his family from falling apart. Woodley is especially impressive as the seventeen year old Alexandra, bringing depth and sincerity to a character much too young to be dealing with something so heavy. Add to this the subtle direction of Alexander Payne (Sideways), and you have a story that seems to tell itself. No funky plot devices, crafty CGI, or deus ex machine to wrap things up. Just a family with familiar failures trying to make it through a shitty situation. And who can’t relate to that?

“Sometimes loving means letting so,” someone once said. And they were right, but they neglected to mention how fucking hard that can be. Whenever love is taken away from us, we tend to find solace by clinging to our hate. If we’re honest, we’ll realize we do this because it almost always feels better to be connected to something… anything… even if it causes us despair. At best it will motivate us to create something of resonance for our fellow brokenhearted. And at the very least it means we’re not alone. Eventually though, if we’re lucky, we recognize our dysfunctional way of thinking and begin the process of recovery, realizing that the answers we’ve been searching everywhere to find were with us all along. This is Matt’s journey, as well as our own.

Grade: A

Director David Fincher (The Social Network, Fight Club) once said, “I don’t know how much movies should entertain. To me, I’m always interested in movies that scar.” By that token, it’s easy to see why he was interested in making the film The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo - adapted from the Swedish novel by Stieg Larsson. If nothing else, this movie will askew the sensitive psyche with images of torture and rape and taint the tranquil temperament with feelings of hopelessness and betrayal. The fact that there is a shred of hope to be found here is a testament to the benevolent credulity of the forsaken.

The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo is, at it’s most fundamental level, a murder mystery. What sets it apart from the tedium of similar stories are the characters that inhabit the world. First we meet Mikael Blomkvist (Daniel Craig), a journalist for Millennium magazine who has just lost his life savings for publishing an unfounded article concerning wealthy businessman Hans-Erik Wennerström. At a career crossroads, Blomkvist entertains a unique proposal from Henrik Vanger (Christopher Plummer), the retired CEO of Vanger Industries who lives on an island four hours north of Stockholm. Henrik offers to double Blomkvist’s salary if he will help him catch the person who murdered his great-niece nearly forty years ago. However, it is only after Henrik agrees to divulge career-ending information regarding Wennerström that Blomkvist accepts the offer.

A man of Henrik’s status, of course, wouldn’t hire Blomkvist without doing a thorough background check. Enter Lisbeth Salander (Rooney Mara), a twenty-three year old computer hacker who is still a ward of the state due to her extreme anti-social behavior. Hers is a troubled life, to say the very, very least. When we meet her, her current guardian suffers a stroke and she is put under the care of lawyer Nils Bjurman (Yorick van Wageningen), a vile man who withholds her finances lest she indulge his perverse desecrations. But everyone has their limits, and when Bjurman violates Salander’s, she makes him pay for it in more ways than one.

Around this time, Blomkvist hits an impasse in the case and resolves to find a competent researcher who is able to shed light on aspects of the crime he might have missed. Henrik’s lawyer, Dirch Frode (Steven Berkoff), recommends Salander, revealing that she is the person who did the background check on Blomkvist. Irritated and intrigued by the depth of research found in the background report, Blomkvist tracks down Salander at her apartment. He invites himself in and presents his proposal in a direct manner, offering Salander the chance to help him catch “a killer of women.” She agrees and they head to the island to investigate the vicious Vanger family.

At this point, the story really hits it’s stride, with Salander and Blomkvist surrendering to a salaciously synergistic partnership that serves to uncover overlooked evidence with the potential to expose the true killer. But they must beware, with this many maniacal miscreants inhabiting the island, no detail can afford to be discounted. The price for doing so could be their lives.

Fincher, as expected, puts on a master class of filmmaking. Each shot selection reveals at least as much as what the characters have to say. Take the scene with Salander in Bjurman’s office. Like a magician whose intrigue lies in the subtle manipulation of seemingly familiar elements, we sense something is awry before we can pinpoint exactly why. And he punishes our repressed premonition with contrition for our assumed inhibition. The acting is also first rate. Every actor, including, and especially the two leads, layer their performances with perceptible peculiarities requisite for well-rounded characters.

During and after this film, I had many thoughts running through my head. Many of them dealt with the revulsion I have for people who abuse positions of power. But, curiously, the biggest concern in my head was for the well-being of Lisbeth Salander. I couldn’t and still can’t shake my empathy for her predicament. All introverts fight an uphill battle in a world where rambunctious assuredness trumps reserved intelligence. Some are able to transverse the presumed risk of relationship and truly lead their own lives. While others find themselves relegated to the whims of the outspoken, too scared or ashamed to ask of life what they fear they may not deserve. For her sake, I hope Salander finds herself among those in the former group.

Grade: B+

Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol starts off with Ethan Hunt (Tom Cruise) in prison. He is broken out by gadget guru and new field agent Benji Dunn (Simon Pegg), and the stunning Jane Carter (Paula Patton), who is dealing with the death of her man, IMF Agent Trevor Hannaway (Josh Holloway), who was killed while tracking a man named “Cobalt.” Together, the three of them embark on a mission in Russia that goes freakishly wrong, culminating with the destruction of the Kremlin in Moscow and them being accused for it. On the verge of war, the President of the United States initiates Ghost Protocol, disavowing the IMF. However, Hunt escapes custody with intelligence analyst William Brandt (Jeremy Renner) during a shootout and they both determine to track down “Cobalt” with the help of Benji and Jane. The team soon discovers “Cobalt” is none other than Kurt Hendricks (Michael Nyqvist), a nuclear strategist hellbent on starting a nuclear war. The only thing he needs to launch the attack are the codes to the launch device; codes which were stolen from Hannaway during the mission on which he was killed. Confused yet? Trust me, you’ll be able to follow. But at the risk of giving too much away, I’ll wrap up the summary with this. What follows is an action-packed, balls to the wall sandstorm of daring stunts, crazy camera tricks, and witty banter that will keep you enthralled throughout the entirety of the film.

Unlike Shame, which had my brain reeling for hours after the movie was finished, Mission Impossible kept it rather quiet. It is a popcorn flick in the greatest sense. A serving of mindless fun that kept me entertained for two hours and left me energized from the explosions and ready to enjoy the night. Out here in the elitist town of Los Angeles that might seem like a backhanded compliment, especially with it being awards season, but I believe this type of movie is just as important as any other. Sometimes I feel like eating lobster, other times a burger, but both, given the right craving, are equally filling.

Director Brad Bird (The Incredibles), in his first big budget, live-action feature, does not disappoint, ratcheting up the special effects and shepherding actors like a seasoned pro. The always reliable Tom Cruise provides his signature perpetual intensity that is matched by that of M.I. newcomer Jeremy Renner, who, if this film is any indication, appears more than capable of steering the Bourne franchise from here on out. Complimenting them are the gut-wrenchingly beautiful and talented Paula Patton and the hilarious, tech-savvy Simon Pegg. Perhaps most interesting about this movie is it’s ability to give each character their due without us feeling like any one of them are being neglected. Whether it’s warranted or not, I attribute this to Bird being at the helm, as his time at Pixar has undoubtedly proven that stories, far more than dazzling images, are what keep audiences coming back for more. Mission accomplished.

Grade: A+

We all have our self-destructive qualities that manifest themselves through the compulsive behaviors we exhibit to ourselves and others. Some are decidedly more destructive than others. For one person it may seem as innocent as an obsessive need to engage in gossip. For another it’s overeating, drinking, smoking, gambling, or drug abuse. Who knows why we continue to engage these compulsions having long since received any reasonable amount of happiness from them. At one point they provided an escape, but now they only serve to imprison us.

Such is the plight of Brandon (Michael Fassbender), a 30-something bachelor living in New York who, on the surface, appears to have it all. He is good looking, has a good job, should have a good life. At least that’s what we’ve been programmed to believe throughout our lives and years of pop culture consumption. But that’s not really the case, is it? Anyone with a reasonable sense of self and social awareness recognizes that the recipe for happiness changes drastically depending on the cook. The blueprint for disaster, however, seems to be pretty consistent across the board. I would characterize it as an inability to recognize and change the aspects of ourselves that cause of grief. Simple enough to remedy, right? But what do you do when the aspect that causes grief is the only thing you can remember deriving any semblance of joy from? And, moreover, the only thing you can imagine ever deriving any sense of joy from. Very often the answer is: You become an addict.

Brandon’s addiction is sex, or, more precisely, a compulsive need to orgasm. The means that get him there matter little, as we find out by witnessing his many orgasms throughout the film. From the moment he wakes up it is all he is able to think about. In the shower in the morning, he masturbates. On the subway to work, he can’t take his eyes off of a woman. He is thinking about sex. She knows it. He knows she knows it. The engagement ring on her finger does nothing to discourage his compulsion. At work, he seems to have things under control, even earning praise from his boss. But we discover that his computer has been taken away because it has a virus from all the “filthy” stuff on the hard drive. He can’t even make it through the work day without sneaking off to the restroom to masturbate yet again.

Up until now, Brandon’s exploits have, for the most part, remained unknown to those around him. That all changes when his sister, Sissy (Carey Mulligan), shows up at his apartment unannounced and asks to stay for a few days lamenting she has no where else to go. He reluctantly agrees, but it doesn’t take long for him to discover that it’s easier to lie to yourself when no one else is watching. Theirs is a troubled relationship, to say the least. Each possessing a distinctly different personality that lends itself to a unique, and, at the same time, familiar pain. Sissy’s insistent search for companionship has left her all alone while Brandon’s aversion to relationship has done the same. We are driven to suspect that a great deal of the pain they experience stems from their childhood. And, indeed, a great deal of all of our pain does. Unfortunately, knowing the cause of something does not always lend itself to an effective solution, and many times only serves to further torment the tormented. This is the root of shame.

Rarely have I been this excited by a writer/director. Steve McQueen (Hunger) seems to have a masterful eye for beautifully constructed shots with the innate ability to convey powerful emotions in a minimalist way. Notice the close-up of Brandon’s face as he climaxes. A pleasurable experience for most of us. For him, it’s torture. Likewise, Fassbender is phenomenally adept at engendering empathy for his characters. And I suspect anyone who watches Shame will see a piece of themselves in Brandon.

Grade: A

Hugo is an enchanting movie about a boy named Hugo Cabret (Asa Butterfield) who, under the guidance of his father (Jude Law), has developed a passion for fixing things. After his father passes away, he is sent to live with his Uncle Claude (Ray Winstone), a drunk who leaves Hugo to maintain the clocks at the railway station where he had been working. There, Hugo works to rebuild an old automaton, a robot-like machine that is able to write. Hugo is convinced if he can fix the automaton there will be a message from his father in the writing. He relies on his father’s notebook, which has instructions for rebuilding the automaton in it. A giant kink is thrown in his plan when the notebook is taken from Hugo by George Méliès (Ben Kingsley), a downhearted toy shop owner who is fed up with Hugo stealing from him.

Complicating things further is Inpector Gustav (Sacha Baron Cohen), a man who is determined to capture the thieving Hugo and deliver him to the homeless shelter, and not the one from Annie. However, with the help of the shop owner’s goddaughter, Isabelle (Chloë Grace Moretz), Hugo is able to retrieve his notebook and fix the automaton, in the process uncovering an even bigger mystery. The old toy shop owner is none other than the filmmaker George Méliès whose films Hugo’s father used to speak about regularly. Now a sad, old man, Hugo determines to fix him. He learns that the war took more than a few friends from Méliès, it took his legacy. With most of his films burned and forgotten, he believes his life to have been a waste. Hugo and Isabelle are able to rectify this with the help of René Tabard (Michael Stuhlbarg), a film historian with a particular interest in the films of Méliès. Together they show Méliès that he is not forgotten and salvage a portion of his many films for all the world to enjoy.

Martin Scorsese directs the film with the heart of a child and the eye of a virtuoso. The shots in the walls of the station, in particular, unfold with stunning precision and beauty. Characters spring to life, each adding something specific and wonderful to the film, and none of them redundant. In the end, we empathize with everyone, perhaps the greatest compliment that can be payed to a writer or director.

Hugo shows us what movies really are… magic. In our waking lives, we may not get the girl or boy, score the winning run, beat the bad guy or even have the courage to say what’s truly on our mind. But in the movies we do all those things and more. We battle aliens, slay dragons and discover new worlds without having to leave the theater. We plummet to the depths of hell, certain nothing can save us and all hope is lost, only to find the strength to rise from the ashes and fight our way back to our personal vision of heaven. A place where we matter, where our feeble earthly acts will be remembered long after we are gone, where good always triumphs over evil and love transcends even death.

Grade: A

Drive is a cool movie. Maybe that’s being a bit oblique, but I challenge you to go see it and come up with a more appropriate word to describe the film. Sure, it’s ultraviolent in parts, sexy in certain sequences, tense at times and intentionally slow-paced at others, but put it all together and it’s just plain cool. Kind of what I imagine smoking a cigarette with James Dean in a convertible on Hollywood Boulevard must have felt like. It doesn’t take long get absorbed by the feel of this film. By the end of the first sequence I was already scouring the audience to see if anyone else was feeling the same as I was. A few admittedly awkward eye locks later and I could tell I was not alone. What was the opening sequence that had us so enthralled? A getaway. But not the typical Hollywood fare of quick cuts and car crashes, rather more of a calculated chess game in which a virtuoso skillfully outsmarts his opponent.

Ryan Gosling plays the character who moonlights as a getaway driver (his real name is never revealed), and although the film is set in present day Los Angeles, he has the feel of someone from another time and place. Where and when, we’re not sure, as all we are told about his life is that he showed up at a mechanic shop five or six years ago and so impressed the owner, Shannon (Bryan Cranston), with his knowledge of cars that he hired him on the spot. He is also the main attraction of the owner’s other business venture, providing stunt drivers to motion pictures. Everything he does he does well, and we buy it because we have no reason not to. As the King James Bible puts it: “Even a fool, when he holds his peace, is counted wise: and he that shuts his lips is esteemed a man of understanding.” Whether a simpleton or sage, Gosling’s driver exhibits a poise in the direst of circumstances which makes us believe he has nothing to lose. That is until he develops a relationship with his neighbor, Irene (Carey Mulligan), and her young son, Benicio (Kaden Leos).

The danger sets in when Irene’s husband, Standard (Oscar Isaac), is released from prison. His life of crime quickly catches up to him and he is told to rob a pawn shop or his family will get hurt. He confides in the Driver, telling him he is not going to go through with it. However, the Driver offers his help when he finds out the bad guys are planning to hurt Irene and Benicio. Up until this point, we’ve had no reason to believe he is a violent person. Even during the robberies, he never carried a gun and always acted with sound judgment devoid of emotion. But that all changes when people he’s grown to care about are threatened. Truthfully, there is nothing more dangerous than a man with something to lose.

When the violence comes, it is all the more haunting because it stems from a film that has us utterly convinced of its reality based on the set-up. Rather than say the cleverest thing imaginable, these people often sit in silence, unable or unwilling to come up with anything they deem worthy enough to say. We empathize with their plight because we’ve all been there; frantically searching our brains for the right comment only to realize the moment has passed and we’ve unwittingly resigned ourselves to silence and a smirk. Perhaps even more relatable than that are the homicidal feelings that accompany us when someone threatens a person we love. Bravery is redundant, as it implies the presence of fear. In these moments, there is no fear, only resolution. You die, even if it means I die too. This is the mind-set of the Driver. If only someone would have warned the people who backed him into the corner of this.

If that seems too ruthless for your blood, then you might want to think twice about seeing this picture. Like some of director Nicolas Winding Refn’s (Bronson, Valhalla Rising) other films, Drive takes you on a journey to places that are often unpleasant. The same could be said for many of the most talented directors of our time, each one rewarding the audience’s resolve with deeper insights into the nature of our humanity.

Grade: A

On the surface, Moneyball may appear to be a baseball movie. But beneath, it is a movie about persevering in the face of odds everyone but you thinks are insurmountable. It’s about turning your fears into your greatest asset, not by ignoring them, but by facing them head on. Of course that’s easier said than done. Just ask Billy Beane (Brad Pitt), the former baseball player turned Oakland A’s General Manager whose biggest fear is losing. He hates losing even more than he wants to win. A fact illustrated by his not even being able to watch the games. Truth is, he has viewed himself as bad luck ever since he passed on a full ride to Stanford for a disappointing and short-lived professional baseball career.

Perhaps winning a championship as a GM is Billy’s chance to rectify his mistake. Unfortunately, his team are the Oakland A’s, a team with decidedly less money to pay their players than the rest of the league, and that’s putting it nicely. However, a chance encounter with a recent Yale Economics graduate, Peter Brand (Jonah Hill), provides Billy with the solution to his problem: Buy runs, not players. By doing so, both Beane and Brand are convinced the A’s can afford a championship team at a bargain price. Not so certain are the other scouts, who don’t take kindly to all their years of baseball experience being thrown out in favor of a kid who is good with numbers. However, Billy’s mind is made up and we can tell, once it is, he is a guy who will follow it through to whatever end.

Moneyball chronicles the season after this change in tactics. And, like all seasons, it has its share of ups and downs. A constant source of disease comes from the relationship between Billy and the team’s manager, Art Howe (Philip Seymour Hoffman), a man who, without a longer contract, is reluctant to play the team like Billy wants as he feels, understandably, it may jeopardize his future in baseball. Apparently Art has never fully embraced the idea of fortune favoring the bold. And this team is nothing if not bold.

As the season progresses, the stakes are progressively raised. One of the most powerful moments takes place during the team’s win streak. On the verge of a record streak, Billy heads out of town to watch the minor league team play. He can’t even be in the same city for fear of jinxing his team. However, on the way out of town he turns on the radio and discovers the A’s have built a seemingly insurmountable lead of 11-0. He rushes back to the stadium to enjoy the triumph with his team, only to have the lead slowly dwindle away once he arrives. By the time we reach the ninth inning, the game is tied. Maybe Billy really does carry bad luck with him.

You could easily look up how that game and the season turned out for the A’s, but if you don’t already know, I suggest seeing the movie first. The direction by Bennett Miller and cinematography by Wally Pfister are intelligently understated, letting a powerful script by Steven Zaillian and Aaron Sorkin shine. The acting is tremendous. Hoffman is wonderful, as always, but the meat of this script is meant for Pitt and Hill, and they are both up to the challenge. Hill, in particular, shows that he can reign in his typical hilarity and deliver a subtle, albeit poignant performance.

Moneyball is a movie for underdogs. And who among us doesn’t know that feeling. The reality is that we often find ourselves in situations we feel we cannot win. Many times we bow out, too afraid to lose to even try to win. It’s only in retrospect we realize that winning and losing are not important. What is important is that you play the game.

Grade: A

Rise of the Planet of the Apes is a revelation. Here is a film where the hero, a chimpanzee named Caesar (Andy Serkis), doesn’t speak yet tells us everything. His plight is so primal we relate to it without needing any drawn out exposition. Of course, the background of his creation is laid out in the opening moments of the film, but after that, it’s all in the action. Hitchcock once said that dialogue should be “sound among other sounds, just something that comes out of the mouths of people whose eyes tell the story in visual terms.” It’s no wonder, then, that so many people are calling for Andy Serkis to be considered for an Oscar. One could argue what he is able to portray through Caesar’s movements and expressions is much more difficult and impressive than another actor who has the added benefit of words to compliment their actions.

Apes begins with scientist Will Rodman (James Franco) in the middle of his search for a cure for Alzheimer’s disease. The laboratory he works in has been testing a virus designed to repair damaged brain cells on apes with some promising results. One chimpanzee experiences greatly improved brain function and is set to be shown off to a group of possible investors when she goes on a rampage through the building. It turns out she was just trying to protect a baby she had secretly given birth to; however, the damage is done. The investor’s pull out, Will is forced to start his research over, and all of the test apes are put down, except for one which Will takes home to live with him and his father, Charles (John Lithgow), who suffers from Alzheimer’s and is the reason Will is so passionate and hasty when it comes to his research.

As Caesar grows older, Will is astounded by his intelligence. His IQ far surpasses that of a human being at the same age. Will’s hypothesis is that Caesar inherited the traits exhibited by his mother after she was exposed to the virus. With his father’s condition drastically declining, Will decides to give his father the virus in hopes that it will bring him back. It does. For five years his father is his old self and Caesar, along with Will’s love interest, Caroline Aranha (Frieda Pinto), both become part of the family. However, after five years, his father’s body develops immunity to the virus and his condition worsens dramatically. Charles crashes the neighbor’s car and gets into a verbal argument with the man with Caesar watching. Naturally, Caesar comes to Charles’s defense and bites one of the neighbor’s fingers off. After which, he is taken away by animal control and placed in a facility with other apes, run by the nefarious father and son, John (Brian Cox) and Dodge Landon (Tom Felton). At this time, Will also begins work on a more powerful virus he hopes will bring his father back once again.

At the facility, Caesar is distraught. Picked on by both apes and humans and unable to return home with Will, he decides to fight back using his superior intelligence. Smartly, he realizes that one ape alone is weak, but together they are powerful. After stealing an airborne version of the virus and administering it to his fellow apes, they initiate their plan. The finale of Apes is riveting, both visually and in it’s implication that, when pushed to the brink, we animals are relentless in our pursuit to overthrow those who would oppress us.

The humans in Apes do their part but are more placeholders than anything else, there mainly to advance the story and give the apes a worthy adversary to rebel against. This film truly belongs to the apes, which pretty much constitute the only well-rounded characters in the film. This shouldn’t be viewed as a critique, though, as I believe this is exactly what the director (Rupert Wyatt) and screenwriters (Frank Jaffa, Amanda Silver) were striving for, realizing the heart and impact of this story relied on the audience’s ability to relate to our hominoid counterparts over our human companions. And relate we do. Indeed, this is what is lacking in much of the other big budget summer fare. Instead of focusing on superfluous stories packed with superheroes, Apes keeps it primal with primates, and the result is one of the most entertaining films of the year.

Grade: A-

Crazy, Stupid, Love is an ensemble dramedy that follows several characters as their lives intertwine and they do their best to navigate the often muddled waters of love. It is refreshing in its portrayal of love and the lengths we will go to capture and hold onto it, and extremely honest in its admission that sometimes loving means letting go.

Cal Weaver (Steve Carell) is a man who has lost his way. At dinner, his wife Emily (Julianne Moore) announces she wants a divorce and has cheated on him, and he determines to get it (and her) back. Enter ladies man Jacob Palmer (Ryan Gosling). He and Cal have been frequenting the same watering hole and after hearing Cal tell anyone who will listen about his wife’s affair with David Lindhagen (Kevin Bacon), Jacob takes it upon himself to help; probably because he’s fed up with hearing Cal complain but we also suspect he might have a heart.

The best scenes in the movie involve Jacob teaching Cal how to successfully seduce women. Of course, you can’t master a new skill overnight, and there are many misses before Cal finally scores with an off-kilter teacher named Kate (Marissa Tomei). His true motives are revealed in an over-the-top sex scene when he admits he wants to show Kate off to his ex-wife to make her jealous. His is a pain only a teenager could comprehend, when that first lost love felt like a ton of bricks resting on your chest and the fear of making a false move suffocated you to the point of inaction until it was too much to bear and every move made from your desperation pushed her farther away. This is especially true for Cal, as his wife is the only woman he’s ever been with and has been his “soul-mate” since he was fifteen years old. It’s a good thing his thirteen-year-old son Robbie (Jonah Bobo) is there to act as his confidant and fellow scorned lover throughout the movie.

Another compelling storyline is the relationship between Jacob and Hannah (Emma Stone). Having played the Lothario for a very long time, Jacob can’t understand what it is about Hannah that is so appealing to him. He tells her as much and she tells him it’s time to go home… alone. However, later in the film they are given a second chance. Hannah takes Jacob up on his offer to take her home and he doesn’t disappoint, even going as far as showing her his signature get-the-ladies-in-the-mood move, which requires him to invoke his inner Swayze. This, of course, leads to the bedroom, but instead of partaking in the usual fare, Jacob and Hannah engage in something far more intimate than sex… a meaningful conversation. Desensitized to the physical act of love through many years of meaningless sex which has left him “wildly depressed,” Jacob has finally found what’s eluded him for much of his life. And now that he’s fallen in love, guess who he turns to? Cal’s advice to Jacob is much more tempered and supportive than the tough love he received, as you’d expect from a loving father who knows there are no guarantees in life or rules when it comes to love. He basically reassures him he’ll be fine, and that, as most people with enough self-awareness to admit it know, is usually enough.

This movie is all about the characters and the four leads are about as close to perfect casting as you’ll come. Gosling and Stone shine as the oddly paired couple of charismatic ladies man and quirky law student. Carell, as always, is terrific as the down but not quite out forty-something looking to redeem himself. And Moore, in a role where we need to like her, plays the part perfectly and wins our empathy despite the terrible thing she’s done to such a kind-hearted man.

The biggest problem I had with the movie was that I liked these four characters so much I wish I could have spent more time with them. Other less engaging storylines took up screen time and had me wishing we could return to the ones I was more invested in. I realize that is a little nitpicky but it’s the truth, and a compliment at that. The best movies have you leave the theater wishing you could spend more time with the characters you’ve grown to love. It may sound crazy, even stupid, but it’s true.

Grade A-

It’s hard to believe that the first installment in the Harry Potter franchise was released ten years ago. To think, back then I was just getting my license. Since then I’ve driven back and forth from theaters spending countless amounts of time and money watching movies, the majority of which were suitably entertaining if unremarkable. However, the one constant in those years was Harry, each of the eight films building on the last and making for one unforgettable movie-going experience.

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows – Part 2 starts off on a somber note, as Harry Potter (Daniel Radcliffe) kneels in front of Dobby’s grave after giving him a proper burial. However, there isn’t much time to mourn because Harry still has three of You Know Who’s (Ralph Fiennes) horcruxes to find and destroy. With the help of Griphook the Goblin, Harry, Hermione Granger (Emma Watson), and Ron Weasley (Rupert Grint) set out to put an end to He Who Shall Not Be Named.

And off they go, to Gringotts Wizarding Bank, Hogsmeade Village, and finally back to where it all began, Hogwart’s, where the enigmatic Severus Snape (Alan Rickman) is now the headmaster. With the evil What’s His Face closing in, there isn’t any time to waste. The action plows forward as the battle between Harry and “__________” draws nearer.

For those who haven’t read the books, I won’t spoil the movie for you by revealing what happens. However, I will tell you that this film, unlike some of the others that spent a fare amount of time focusing on secondary characters, belongs to our three heroes. They are pushed to their limit as they try to defeat Voldemort (there, I said it), and it’s obvious that they’ve grown not only in stature, but dramatic abilities as well. Daniel Radcliffe is particularly good as the titular character, possessing a depth that encourages our empathy for Harry. Watson and Grint are also up to the challenge, exchanging glances of affection that confirm their love for one another is real. What a fitting farewell for these actors who have poured ten years of their young lives into these characters.

In an age where tentpoles are packaged and released with the almighty dollar at the forefront of the studio’s mind, these films have been an anomaly, breaking box office records while maintaining their heart and at the same time captivating ours. And although the end is bittersweet, I’m reminded of the wisdom of Dr. Seuss: “Don’t cry because it’s over. Smile because it happened.”