I know, I know. It wasn’t my idea. (And I didn’t pay.) Yet for the first bit, at least, I was surprised. The movie seemed to have a surprisingly mature attitude toward masculinity, and Michael Douglas seemed to be channeling from his Jewel of the Nile days.

Of course, it didn’t take long to fall in on itself. The movie was obsessed with maintaining an active pace, while Albert Brooks really started to get annoying (does he have any role where he isn’t just whining?) By the time David Suchet (who I recognized from his many turns as Hercule Poirot on PBS) made an appearance, I was amazed at just how hard everyone seemed to be trying.

Only the adorable Ryan (“Van Wilder”) Reynolds remained above reproach. How he can remain so charming in such schlock is beyond me, but he should keep it up as long as he can.

Oh, and I fucking hated the last two lines of dialogue in the movie.

I failed to do my homework for Ghosts. I knew only that it was playing in an art theater that I like, and the setting was Cambodia.

The first hint I was in trouble came when the credits rolled: Matt Dillon not only starred and co-wrote, he directed. Naturally, my expectations automatically took a nosedive.

The movie surprassed those newly lowered expectations with the rich scenery of Cambodia, but the story was still lacking in a big way, with no clear reason it needed to be there.

Matt should really leave the writing to someone else.

I’m not so much of a music person. Sure, I listen to it, but not as much as… well, everyone I know. I’m also 25 years old. That’s two big strikes against me in understanding all of the jokes in A Mighty Wind, the new “mockumentary” from Christopher Guest.

But that’s hardly a handicap. Even without the background to really decipher the Peter, Paul & Mary references, one can appreciate the talented actors in this wacky movie. (But as with Best of Show, I’m left thinking that Jennifer Coolidge is one weird chick.)

Who has time to think about the movie? I was too busy being scared by things in the theater. At the ticket stand: a sign promising you can “Thrill Your Date” — by buying a combo. In the theater itself: “I Can Only Imagine” on the Movie Tunes loop. Isn’t there some sort of tacit agreement that to be a crossover success you can’t mention Jesus? As it was, I was looking for the exit. (Later, the quasi-DJ promised “we’ll recycle ourselves and be right back.”)

After the confusion, I was glad to see the movie start. I’ve always enjoyed confidence scam/grifter movies, and I wanted to enjoy this one. Given this goal, I overlooked some quibbles (Dustin Hoffman was underused, Ed Burns’ voice grated at times, and the style/substance ratio went out of whack a few times) and found it a pleasing way to spend two hours.

A day later, I’m still conflicted over the second part of the Matrix trilogy. As much as I am tempted to say that the Matrix is all about style — and thus dialogue should be ignored wherever possible — I still can’t shake some disappointment.

Many of the scenes had the top-heavy, self-important quality of another disappointing film, especially during any scene that involved “the Council” or its members. (Or the fucking grating, pompous, self-important individual Neo meets late in the final act.)

The action scenes were a welcome respite, but even they occasionally came up short. In the vaunted armies-of-agents conflict, I was really looking forward to a demonstration of digital photogrammetry in action. While impressive, it wasn’t entirely convincing. Some portions of the scene made Neo seem too smooth — almost antialiased — and were just not convincing enough. A great step forward, but when I heard John Gaeta boasting about virtual cinematography, I really expected a show.

Here’s hoping the brothers hired a good (screenplay) editor for Revolutions.

Personally, I blame the Sixth Sense. You may finger another cause for the current obsession with surprise endings (“twists”), but I’ve picked mine.

Not that Identity‘s first surprise ending is that bad. In fact, given the tired nature of this genre, it actually feels fresh (though my experience with horror films is mercifully little.) But of course the filmmakers try to pile on yet another twist — and that’s where my patience wanes.

My expectations weren’t too high, of course. I needed a rainy day movie to see with good friends, and John Cusack always seems watchable. The horror/suspense plot guaranteed the whole thing was disposable anyway, as the Times captures so well: “Identity is a dressed-up B picture, a hunk of cheese trying to sneak into the gourmet food aisle of the supermarket.”

One. Am I the only one who finds a trailer at the start of a DVD to be oddly anachronistic? It may be strange, but I welcome and expect a few previews on a videocassette, but the same thing on a disc seems unfriendly and dated. Note I’m not talking about the mere presence of trailers, but instead the practice of placing them before the main menu or at the start of the feature presentation. (And, worse, ignoring the “skip” button.)

Two. Trailer content: it’s always been a delicate compromise, balancing the need to give an idea/sense of the film while still holding back enough to keep it interesting. Lately, though, it seems the balance is breaking down.Today it seems many trailers contain all of the film’s highlights, seemingly obviating the need to plunk down your eight bucks. The most spectacular recent example: The Italian Job trailer. We see the players, the conflict, the rising action, and plenty of climax. All that’s missing is the job-well-done scene and our Reader’s Digest condensed version would be complete.

Sheesh.

(Note to the guy who made the Job site: “Steal the day?” Feeling a little dry creatively, were we?)

As I walked from the theater, I heard one member of the trio behind me say, “That was a good movie, but it was boring as hell.”

I tend to agree.

It was good, surely, and there was a freshness to it. But after about 70 minutes I was just fatigued. I entertained myself by trying to spot any parental figures in this story of a group of Asian-American honor students who turn to crime for the rush. (I found none.)

Which is not to throw cold water on the flick. While I may not have the same level of affection the critics seem to, I think the director has talent and I eagerly await his next project.

(And for the record, lead Parry Shen looks like a young B.D. Wong — which is to say, adorable.)

George Lucas wanted to show Episode II on 3,000 digital projectors. Analysts projected there would be 1,000 by last year. They were both off: just 74 digital projectors are in use in the US today.

On Thursday, Microsoft announced that number will increase. The software company has partnered with Landmark Theatres to equip 177 screens with a digital projection system. The Digital Cinema Solutions system, at $70,000 per unit, costs twice as much as a mechanical projector but less than half the price of a DLP machine.

The interesting part about this deal is that it’s being pitched as a boon for independent filmmakers, who have embraced Mini-DV and other digital technologies due to their low cost. Theoretically, the upgrade means an all-digital pipeline for exhibition in all 53 Landmark theaters will be available next year to those artists who can’t pay the $1,500+ per print needed for 35mm reels…provided the filmmakers use Microsoft’s Windows Media Services 9, of course.

I’ve long been intrigued with the idea of digital projectors, particularly in small markets. When each theater doesn’t have to first recoup two grand for the cost of prints, it means theaters have more options and can show a greater variety of films.

That won’t happen immediately — all the Landmark theaters I’ve been to are in cities of at least a million — but I will be watching this development very closely.

Last night, I brought my total to 21 theatrical releases seen in 2003. Not bad for the 3d day of March.

Of course, the movie was bad. Not that I’m surprised; I didn’t go to see it because I expected it to be good, I went because Debbie has a thing for Owen Wilson and I’d been neglecting her for too long.

And it wasn’t awful, it was just… uninteresting. I found myself disconnecting from what I was watching, my mind wandering around. Sometimes it was a tangent, like when I tried to remember what Aidan Gillen (who played the villian) sounded like in the original Queer as Folk, and if he was altering his accent at all for an American audience.

Other times it was random, but in all cases, I would always come back to one thought: isn’t this done yet?

[ Saw it Thursday; this review is late. ]

A quietly good film set in Vietnam during the conflict, just as France is nearing the end of its part in the war. Based upon Graham Greene’s novel, the central character is played by Michael Caine.

As usual, Caine is the consummate pro. It’s the title character, played by Brendan Fraser, who is more troubling. I can’t think of a Fraser character that I’ve ever liked without reservations, and sadly this is no exception.

That’s certainly not to say he drags down the picture. The rest of the film is too strong to be fatally wounded. Even with Mr. Fraser, The Quiet American is something worth watching, especially in times like these.

An energetic, gritty film suffused with heat — and violence. This Brazilian film (English title: City of God) is based upon a true story about the occupants of Rio’s most notorious slum.

It’s a film that the New York Times playfully called “Gangs of Rio” in a nod to Scorsese’s movie. There are certainly similarities, but this picture is much more daring in terms of structure, and it feels more raw due to the youth of its protagonists — a factor that makes it sometimes difficult to watch. More than once a woman in the row behind me gasped sharply at the brutality that unfolded on the screen.

Such is the irony of the slum’s name: in that wretched place, a god is nowhere to be found.

Certainly not art, but also not the worst way to while away two hours (but maybe not eight bucks!) The “band Bring It On” is actually much better than the cheerleading flick that is its closest relative. Ebert has it right when he writes the movie “is entertaining for what it does, and admirable for what it doesn’t do.”

And if you think I’ve gone all “pop” in my movie choices, have no fear: the next two will be back up to snuff.

…was even worse than the widely-overrated Spider-Man and is best promptly forgotten.

Hmm.

What was I talking about?

A powerhouse performance by Daniel-Day Lewis anchors this overlong period piece. Leonardo DiCaprio also does well as the vengeful Amsterdam Vallon, though some of my companions (understandably) had difficulty seeing past his previous life as scrawny teenage heartthrob.

Yet the most salient characteristic of Gangs is its violence. I thought of Scorsese’s beginnings as I watched all the blades and the blood and death they wrought.

If this film is to be believed, New York’s streets are actually safer today. How amusing is that?