Andy Morgan’s Screening Room

If I were writing this review in July, I would declare, without reservation, “Shoot ‘Em Up” the best movie of the summer. In fact, I’d even slap it on my best movies of 2007 list. But before any artsy fartsy types break out their berets and Oscar ballets, let’s get one thing straight: “Shoot ‘Em Up” doesn’t excel because of acting or a profoundly moving screenplay. Not even close.

This movie earns four stars because of the unapologetic way it approaches the bloody, non-stop violence and action that serves as the films foundation. I don’t want to use the word “cartoonish” to describe the action and violence, but truthfully, that’s the only word in the dictionary that fits. The filmmakers know they are going over the top and they make every minute worth the viewer’s money.

Clive Owen (“Children of Men”) stars as the movie’s reluctant, atypical hero, known by the moniker, Mr. Smith. Smith has no past, present or future, as far as we can tell, until he finds himself rescuing a pregnant woman (Ramona Pringle) from, what appears to be, her psychotic boyfriend. When the man pulls a knife and threatens the woman with a violent c-section, Smith intervenes and jabs a carrot through the man’s head – one of many scenes of carrot violence scattered throughout the 90 minute movie.

Soon after dispatching the woman’s attacker, Smith is delivering her baby boy and having a Wild West shootout with hordes of machine gun toting goons, led by Mr. Hertz (Paul Giamatti), a smart, eccentric hit man with a bad temper and a wicked sense of humor. Soon, the baby’s mother is dead and Smith finds himself jumping from building to building, protecting the baby and wondering why on Earth anyone would want to murder a newborn.

Smith goes to the only person he can trust, a hooker named Mary “DQ” White (Monica Bellucci). White lost a child many years ago and instantly bonds with the child. In fact, the duo hits the road, buying bullets with food stamps and a camouflage bullet proof vest for the baby, now given the name Oliver. Over and over again, Hertz sends waves of gunman to snuff Smith, Oliver and White, but Smith counters with creativity, accuracy and his desire to see the baby live. At one point, after sending more than 50 men after Smith, Hertz exclaims, “Do we really suck or is this guy really that good?”

Bit by bit, Smith starts to unravel the plot behind the mother’s murder and the Hertz’s desire to see baby Oliver dead. I won’t go into specifics, but it involves a United States senator, a gun company and, what appears to be, the FBI. Word on the street is the filmmakers added the majority of the story and plot after basing the movie on non-stop action. If that is the case, I couldn’t tell. In fact, it was a moot point. I was enjoying every intricately choreographed gunplay scene and all the quirky one-liners that any holes in the story were forgotten as the wince-inducing finale between Hertz and Smith played out.

I can’t sing enough praise about Paul Giamatti (Mr. Hertz) as an actor. From “Sideways” to “Cinderella Man” to “The Illusionist,” he is a pure joy to watch. Clive Owen appears to have not changed his clothes since “Children of Men,” but it’s easy to see why many folks though he’d become the next James Bond after Pierce Brosnan was jettisoned from the franchise. He delivers his one-liners with a cool smugness. Oh, and I can’t forget Monica Bellucci. Gorgeous doesn’t do her looks justice. She is exquisitely enchanting and numbingly beautiful and her Italian accent makes me bonkers.

“Shoot ‘Em Up” is fun from beginning to end. The action never gets old because writer/director, Michael Davis, mixes the non-stop action with humor and fresh stunts and choreography. It is mega violent with oodles of blood. In fact, the last scene made me look away. Something about broken bones makes me shudder. Still, “Shoot ‘Em Up is a surprisingly great movie in a depressingly boring movie season, and definitely worth the full price ticket this weekend.

I wanted to like “Superbad” so very much. It’s like the drop dead gorgeous girl your dying to ask on a date and finally when you get the courage up and she accepts, you discover she has chronic flatulence and hacks lugis like a two-pack-a-day smoker. Basically, don’t judge a book by its cover.

It all started when I watched the “redband” (which is web-speak for unrated) trailer a few months ago and laughed so hard I thought adult diapers would be necessary. Looking back, it may have been jubilation from the Utah Jazz playoff run coupled with way too much Red Bull.

Alas, it was not to be. I caught a press screening recently and although folks around me we’re laughing hysterically, my frequent trailer watching of “Superbad” left me with a feeling of “meh.” I didn’t hate it, but it wasn’t spectacular or special. It followed the gross-out teen comedy genre to the letter, except it had slightly more heart than “American Pie,” “Porky’s” and “Revenge of the Nerds.”

So, there you have it. “Superbad” is just plain meh.

Before I delve into the story, let me toss out two warnings that may stop people from reading the rest of the article:

First, and I say this because a reader of my “Knocked Up” review got testy because I didn’t count the number of f-words and send him an Excel spreadsheet of the frequency and intervals, but “Superbad” is chock full. Let me say that again: Chock full of the f-bomb, as well as other colorful language. I’ll write more about this later.

Last – and this is very important, but parents need to make sure their teens under 17 are not road tripping with their pals to see this movie. I’m all for the freedom to choose and I realize movie ratings are not the law-of-the-land, but the movie is rated R for a reason and rated R movies are for folks 17 and older, unless accompanied by an adult. And if you are an adult taking a teen to this movie, you should be in jail.

Still with me? Fabulous. Here’s the story.

Seth (Jonah Hill) and Evan (Michael Cera) have been pals since they were in Elementary school, but now, during their senior year of high school, they find themselves insecure about college and a bit more interested in girls. Actually, their focus is solely on the “hooking up” with girls, which, if you’ve been under a rock for the last decade, involves rounding the proverbial bases. Both guys don’t want to go to college inexperienced when it comes to the ladies.

Sadly, high school today is still the way it was when I graduated in 1992. Jocks, nerds, rockers, cowboys, cheerleaders, stoners, drinkers – you name it – everyone has a clique and there is a pecking order. Seth and Evan, while not at the very bottom, are situated on the totem pole where you don’t get invited to the “cool” parties and you get spit on my insecure, jock bullies. It is 100 percent evident this movie was written and acted from personal experience, albeit with a little exaggeration.

When the objects of Seth and Evan’s lust, Jules (Emma Stone) and Becca (Martha Maclsaac) enlist the duo to deliver the alcohol to Jules’ party, it seems like the heavens have opened. Both have heard the stories of drunken girls “hooking up” with guys they wouldn’t even look at while they are sober. The quest to obtain alcohol takes up most of the movie and involves their pal, Fogell (Christopher Mintz-Plasse), aka McLovin’. Quite honestly, without the McLovin’ character, the movie would not be near as funny.

Back to the swearing and language in the movie, as I said before, there is a ton. Some may argue that it’s excessive and unnecessary and those that do probably see movies with the “life imitates art” frame of mind. I’m not sold that “Superbad” and its ins and outs is “art imitating life,” but I do know that I could relate, even at 33 years old, with much of the story and characters. Plus, as always, a Judd Apatow (in this case he’s producer) movie always ends with and is injected with heart.

“Superbad” is a good movie, but not nearly as funny as “Knocked Up.” In my book, I see three star movies again and potentially look to purchase them on DVD. “Superbad” is something I might see again at the discount theater, but definitely not a DVD purchase.

In a summer chock full of “thirds,” Matt Damon (“The Departed”) and director Paul Greengrass (“United 93”, “The Bourne Supremacy”) reteam to give theatergoers the presumably final installment of “The Bourne Trilogy,” based on the novels by Robert Ludlum. Much like “Live Free or Die Hard,” the movie is franticly paced and buoyed CGI-free stunts and action scenes. “The Bourne Ultimatum” is a enjoyable, positive capstone to a largely disappointing summer season.

“Ultimatum” opens right where we left Jason Bourne (Matt Damon) in “The Bourne Supremacy,” in Moscow, Russia, being filmed with Greengrass’ signature style of herky-jerky handheld camera movements. If you’re the type that pukes on amusement park rides, then bring a barf bag to the theater and definitely, for the sake of other patrons, don’t consume a truckload of popcorn and peanut M&Ms.

Bourne, still hunted by the CIA, is drawn out of deep hiding after reading articles regarding him and the covert operation Treadstone in the British newspaper “The Guardian.” It seems what really stokes his ire are misrepresented facts about the death of his girlfriend, Marie (Franka Potente), so after a perfunctory visit to explain the circumstances of her death to her brother in Paris, he sets off to find the writer of the aforementioned newspaper articles, Simon Ross (Paddy Considine).

Bourne and Ross meet in a busy London train terminal and Ross drops several clues to Bourne that will eventually lead him to his true identity, the first and foremost being the name “Blackbriar.” This is unfamiliar to Bourne, but not to Noah Vosen (David Strathairn) who is the leader behind this new, covert CIA outfit, intent on replacing the flawed and failed Treadstone project. Unbeknownst to Bourne and Ross, Vosen’s unit has been listening and watching ever since the mention of “Blackbriar” was picked up in the endless “chatter” listened to by the US government. They track Ross to discover his source, confident they have a traitorous leak in their ranks, and are speechless after they watch from surveillance cameras Bourne dispatch all their agents.

Bourne flees London to Madrid, Spain and keeps having flashbacks of the day he signed up for Treadstone. He sees blurry faces and hears spotty, muted dialogue, but he still doesn’t understand how or why he is the first-class assassin he is now. In Madrid, he seeks out Ross’ CIA informant and crosses paths with Nicky Parsons (Julia Stiles). With some past connection we don’t quite understand between Parsons and Bourne, she is intent on helping him discover his past, so she lies to Vosen and Pamela Landy (Joan Allen) about Bourne’s whereabouts and the two cross the Mediterranean Sea to Tangiers to catch Ross’ source before he is snuffed by Vosen’s black ops assassins or “assets.”

In the end, after visiting Russia, Italy, France, England, Spain and Africa, Bourne comes to New York City, where his current reign as uncatchable assassin began. I’ll leave the details of the conclusion out of this article, but I will say it has, like the other two films, a fantastic car chase through the streets of the Big Apple. And the ending is tied up nice and neat, with closure for everyone.

Kudos to Greengrass and the screenwriters for injecting some “real time” homeland security concerns into the fabric of the story. After seeing “The Bourne Ultimatum”, my advice would be to not say “jihad” or “Hilary Rodham Clinton” on your cell phone or emails, or you might have some CIA agents toss a black bag over your head and beat you silly.

Bottom line: “The Bourne Ultimatum” is fast and fun. The fight scenes and car chases are intense and the cast of supporting actors – Allen, Strathairn and Albert Finney – give some texture to a film that could be fluff. Instead, it is a smartly acted, intricately choreographed action movie that is definitely in league with “Transformers,” “Live Free or Die Hard” and “Knocked Up” as the best summer movie.

There’s not much I love about the 80s. Big hair glam bands, acid washed jeans, mullets, flannel, leg warmers and more are all items that should wiped from the world’s collective pop-culture memory. However, when it comes to movies, the 80s were chock full of classics, including one of my personal favorites, “Die Hard.” Not only did the movie provide action, laughs and suspense, but it also launched the careers of Bruce Willis and Alan Rickman (most recently seen as Severus Snape in the Harry Potter films) into the upper echelon of Hollywood, especially Willis.

Now, “Live Free or Die Hard” hits theaters in the midst of a summer of dry, bloated, snooze-inducing cinema, the bulk of which has been sequels, so forgive me for my lack of faith. In fact, my first instinct is to curse Hollywood for its lack of creativity and its penchant for milking every last dime out of a film franchise, especially so in the case of “Die Hard,” where the final film in the trilogy, “Die Hard: With a Vengeance,” came out in 1995. Simply put, instead of blanketing us and entertaining us with originality, Hollywood pummels us with second-hand, recycled drivel bent on duping patrons for dollars.

I’m glad to say with “Live Free or Die Hard” I am 100 percent wrong. This movie rocks six ways from Sunday. Maybe I’m numb because “Pirates,” “Spiderman” and “Shrek” were all disappointing. Either way, the fourth installment in the “Die Hard” franchise is a welcome addition. I’d call it the best movie of the summer, but I haven’t reviewed “Transformers” yet.

The opening scene of “Live Free or Die Hard” is a little clichéd and used, but we’re brought up to speed quickly of where John McClane has been for the last 12 years. He’s divorced and is still an NYPD cop, this time with the title of Senior Detective. His acrimonious relationship with his wife has now been replaced with unfriendly relations with his daughter, Lucy (Mary Elizabeth Winstead), especially since McClane takes a page out the Alec Baldwin Handbook on Parenting and shows up unannounced and angry at his daughter’s dorm when she doesn’t return his calls.

In the midst of keeping Lucy’s boyfriend’s mitts of her body, McClane gets a call from his boss telling him to pick up a local computer hacker, Matt Farrell (Justin Long), as a favor to the FBI. After McClane arrives at Farrell’s apartment, the duo is attacked by thugs with big machine guns and lots of ammo. After explosions and gunfire they escape and the reason for Farrell’s importance to the FBI is revealed.

Little by little, the computer-linked infrastructure – including transportation, finance and utilities – is shut down by cyber terrorists. By all accounts, Farrell is lucky to be alive, as the rest of his hacker cadre has been executed by the goon squad that attacked his apartment unsuccessfully. His clan of malcontent computer geniuses was used and then dumped. The result is what Farrell calls a “firestorm,” essentially Armageddon caused by the shutdown or takeover of all computer systems and records in the US.

Once the terrorist’s motive is established, the movie becomes a treasure map, with each bombastic scene leading up to the final confrontation with bad guys’ head honcho, a disenchanted former FBI security expert, Thomas Gabriel (Timothy Olyphant). And yes, to those “Die Hard” purists who may frown at the PG-13 rating, we do get a climatic “Yippy-ki-yay” at the end.

“Live Free and Die Hard” is over-the-top and cheesy in some regards, but I didn’t expect anything else and the film doesn’t pretend to be something it’s not. Willis and Long drive the movie with their banter to each other and at the bad guys. Olyphant is okay as the bad guy, but he’s no Alan Rickman. Still, one of my triggers for a good movie is whether or not I’d see it again and you can be sure I’ll catch this flick again this summer.

After a month of rancid summer celluloid, Hollywood has its first certifiable, unique hit of the season with writer/director Judd Apatow’s (“The 40 Year Old Virgin”) “Knocked Up.” It won’t come close to pocketing the box office cash like the “Pirates of the Caribbean,” “Spiderman” and “Shrek” sequels, but sometimes raking in revenue equivalent to the GNP of Greenland isn’t as important as fresh, wet-your-pants comedy.

“Knocked Up” is somewhat of a coming out party for two up and coming actors – Seth Rogen and Katherine Heigl. Rogen is best known for his role as Cal in 2005’s “The 40 Year Old Virgin” and Heigl is best known as Izzie Stevens on television’s “Grey’s Anatomy.” It might be unfathomable for some Hollywood suits to bank a movie’s success on two largely unproven talents, but the genius of Apatow’s writing and fill-in-the-gaps supporting cast are what carries the film. Watching the movie is like watching a well-oiled machine. Everyone knows their role and the harmony and cohesion between script and delivery is near flawless.

When the film opens we meet Ben Stone (Seth Rogen), a twenty-something stoner-cum-website entrepreneur living with his four stoner pals. In between smoking marijuana, drinking, kickboxing and ping pong, the group spends their time cataloging nude scenes for their joint business venture, a website entitled “Flesh of the Stars.com.” Ben has no money and no social life outside his band of misfits, something he tells his father he is happy with. He tells is dad he is “living his vision.”

On the other side of the coin is Alison Scott (Katherine Heigl), a beautiful, non-stoner working for the “E!” entertainment news channel. Alison has just been promoted to on-camera work and celebrates with a night of clubbing with her older sister, Debbie (Leslie Mann). Debbie is married to Pete (Paul Rudd) and has two kids. She is a mother figure to Alison, even letting Alison live in her guest house. It is during the sisters’ night of clubbing that Ben and Alison meet. After much imbibing, the inevitable happens and Alison wakes the next morning, horrified to find a hairy, butt crack sporting sloth in her bed. After a perfunctory breakfast, the episode is catalogued into the mistake file and closed.

Flash forward a few months and Alison soon discovers she is pregnant. Stunned, Alison envisions her life imploding. In her mind, this pregnancy could end her promising career at E! News. Her mom tells her to get an abortion, but Alison refuses and instead contacts Ben and breaks the news that he is a daddy. In her mind, the only right thing to do is develop a relationship with Ben so the baby will have two parents in its life. So, Ben and Alison start over and begin to date and start to truly fall in love. Two people, who have been extremely focused on their own needs, now have a baby and each other to worry about.

And that’s just the foundation of the movie. Throw in bits on child predators, fantasy baseball, baby shopping and thousands of pop culture references, and you can see why I was slapping my knee and reaching for the adult undergarments throughout the movie. Truthfully, it’s a full fledged comedy dream team. You have superstars – Rogen and Rudd, and then bit players like Apatow’s wife, Leslie Mann, and Ben’s four roommates – Jason Segel, Jay Baruchel, Jonah Hill and Martin Starr. Looking at the cast bios, it’s easy to see why this works. Nearly everyone in “Knocked Up” has worked together from the beginning.

“Knocked Up” is funny and heartwarming and one of the funniest films to hit theaters in the last 10 years. It’s definitely worth the full-price ticket. It is rated R for language, drug use, sexual situations and some nudity, so parents should be wary of anyone younger than 17 sneaking off to this movie with their pals.

I had plenty of caffeine before the screening of the absurdly long “Pirates of the Caribbean: At World’s End,” the third, and presumably finale, film in the “Pirates of the Caribbean” trilogy. But despite a Diet Coke and a Diet Rockstar, I was yawning for the first 45 minutes. That’s because Pirates the Third is a minefield of boring, been-there-done-that cinema. I was hoping this would be the film to break the shackles of this summer’s sequel doldrums, but I was sadly mistaken.

Last summer, when we left Will Turner (Orlando Bloom) and Elizabeth Swan (Keira Knightley) in “Dead Man’s Chest,” Will was pouting because Miss Swan kissed Captain Jack Sparrow (Johnny Depp), and Elizabeth was frumpy because she sacrificed Captain Jack to the belching “beasty” Kraken. In the final scene, Tia Dalma (Naomie Harris), after revealing a back-from-the-dead Captain “I Need Proactiv Skin Solution” Barbossa (Geoffrey Rush), tells the group of mourners that Sparrow can be rescued from the “ends of the Earth.”

“At World’s End” picks up with Barbossa, Dalma, Turner and Swan leading the rest of Jack’s band of third-rate pirates into Singapore to steal maps and secure a ship from one of nine pirate lords, Captain Sao Feng (Chow Yun-Fat), a scar-faced, cranky, Fu Manchu-wearing bad boy. Barbossa tells Sao Feng the group’s plans to find Captain Jack, but also of a gathering of pirate lords at Shipwreck Cove. It seems the East India Trading Company’s head honcho, the evil Lord Cutler Beckett (Tom Hollander), with Davy Jones (Bill Nighy) and the Flying Dutchman under his command and control, has declared war on the pirates. The meeting at the hidden cove is to align forces and plan a way to defeat Lord Beckett.

As with the past two films, the plot spins in several different directions, especially after the group travels to the ends of the Earth to rescue Captain Jack from Davy Jones’ Locker. Truthfully, I think a lot of time is wasted in the getting to and arriving at Davy Jones’ Locker. Still, the group picks up Jack, and with his injection into the film, the story picks up speed and the laughs become more frequent. We discover each character’s agendas and they all come crashing together in the film’s frantic finale. I’d say more, but truthfully, to say more would be to divulge too many spoilers.

Despite the ho-hum feeling, “At World’s End” has some bright spots. Depp’s portrayal of Captain Jack gives the film its foundation, although at times it seems like overkill. The movie’s special effects are nothing short of stellar and the folks at Industrial Light and Magic have once again created lifelike CGI characters and environments. That Johnny Depp was nominated for a Golden Globe last year for “Dead Man’s Chest”, but Bill Nighy was not is a true injustice. Davy Jones might be CGI, but Nighy gives him spunk. Sadly, there is not enough Davy Jones in “At World’s End.”

In the end, the movie simply is flat. There is nothing new, nothing hugely spectacular or overwhelming to cause me to dip into my wallet again and again. Ironically, the action and humor that pepper the first two films seem missing. “At World’s End” tries to be too dramatic and serious. I thought it was boring, but I’d bet the nearly three-hour runtime will put your kids to sleep. In fact, like the other two films, you probably should keep kids younger than eight or nine at home. Watching Davy Jones stick his tentacles down a man’s throat and up his nose is not something young kids need to see, let alone the stabbing and other violence throughout the movie.

Should you pay full price to catch the third “Pirates of the Caribbean” film? Absolutely not. Wait for the discount ticket. “At World’s End” is like the entertaining houseguest whose visit, while fun for a few days, has now grown old. They simply can’t say goodbye and keep repeating the same tired jokes, music and action to rekindle the joy of times past. Sadly, by the time the door shuts and the hint of another visit (i.e. Pirates of the Caribbean 4) is placed on the table, you’re changing the locks and contemplating a move.

I am so tempted to open this review by calling this film “Shrek the Turd,” but that would be too easy. There are plenty of items to pooh-pooh in “Shrek the Third,” but I’m adamant when I say I’m truly torn. On one hand, there was much I enjoyed in Shrek’s third trip to the big screen, but on the other, this is another clichéd, poorly constructed sequel seemingly more intent on pilfering the wallets of unsuspecting parents than actually entertaining with fresh comedy.

All the familiar characters from the previous “Shrek” films are back for the third installment and the movie is essentially baked from the same mold as its predecessors. Sadly, this prefabrication actually adds fatigue to the story, as I found myself saying, “Oh, here comes the part where Shrek feels bad he’s being a jerk and they play a sad song,” and “Here comes a peppy tune as we are reminded – again – how much Shrek and Fiona are in love.” That’s not a huge problem, except for the fact that Shrek and Fiona are boring. It’s the new and fringe characters that bring life to the franchise.

“Shrek the Third” opens with Prince Charming (Rupert Everett), his Fairy Godmother mommy long since gone, doing dinner theater for hostile, heckling residents of Far, Far Away – patrons who would rather see Shrek than Charming. Feeling cheated, Charming riles up the baddies at the Poison Apple pub and vows to make Shrek pay for ruining his “happily ever after.”

Shift to Shrek (Mike Myers) and Fiona (Cameron Diaz) who are subbing for the King (John Cleese) and Queen (Julie Andrews) of Far, Far Away. It’s not something Shrek enjoys, but since his father-in-law is dying, it’s the least he can do. When the King finally croaks (no pun intended), his last wish is for Shrek to take over the throne, but also tells him the only other heir is a boy named Arthur (Justin Timberlake). Shrek, not wanting the mantle of king, joins Donkey (Eddie Murphy) and Puss (Antonio Banderas) on another “whirlwind adventure” to locate this long, lost relative and future king.

With the focus away from the been-there-done-that of the first two Shrek movies, the second half of the movie picks up comedic speed and the comedic tennis match between Donkey, Puss and Shrek takes the forefront. This is especially true when Shrek, as he is departing by ship to find Arthur, discovers Fiona is pregnant. Receiving advice from Donkey and Puss, the scene and accompanying dream sequence is one of the most humorous portions of the sequel.

After a short journey, the trio finds Arthur at Worcestershire High School, where “Artie” is the school nerd, picked on by the “jousting team” and loathed by all the girls who like to say “eweth” when they are disgusted. Arthur is excited to be the new king, especially about the castle and all the “princesses,” but he quickly changes his mind when he discovers he wasn’t the first choice. Throw in some fighting with Shrek, a visit with a deranged, no-pants-wearing Merlin (Eric Idle) and it all leads to an inevitable showdown with Charming, who has taken over Far, Far Away since Shrek’s departure.

I like “Shrek the Third,” but I don’t love it. I probably won’t see it again and I probably won’t pay full price to add the DVD to my “Shrek” trilogy. The first half of the movie is slow and old, but the second half is funny and driven by all the supplemental characters such as Donkey, Puss, Pinocchio, the Gingerbread Man, Cinderella, Snow White, and Sleeping Beauty.

When I was in high school, I didn’t take my dates to scary movies for the exact same reason I didn’t take them to amusement parks – I didn’t want them to see me reduced to a quivering pile of sweaty, crying, screaming, eye-covering hysteria. Trust me, I’m 32 and I felt I was betraying some film critic’s rule of conduct by closing my eyes during the screening of “Disturbia.”

“Disturbia” stars the up and coming actor Shia LaBeouf, who is probably best recognized for his role as Stanley Yelnats in the 2003 film “Holes.” That was four years ago and now viewers are privy to a grown-up, serious actor in LaBeouf. In fact, this summer might be his catapult into Hollywood Hunk status, as he’s set to voice a penguin in “Surf’s Up” and star alongside the robots in disguise in “Transformers.”

In this Hitchcock-meets-the-iPod thriller, LaBeouf plays Kale Brecht, a smart, goodhearted teenager living alongside Hollywood’s vision of the Utopian family. This is cemented by the opening scene of Kale and his father (Matt Craven) fly fishing and sharing laughs and Cokes. This tidy little world comes to a grinding halt when they are involved in one of the most horrific on-screen car wrecks I have ever seen.

Flash forward and we find Kale on a different, darker path since his father’s death. His schoolwork is in the toilet, he’s been arrested several times and his latest infraction – punching the Spanish teacher – has him sentenced to house arrest for three months, his entire summer vacation. Kale’s mom (Carrie-Ann Moss) is at a loss, so she cancels his XBOX Live, iTunes and even cuts the cord on his TV. So, as it is with most folks, when you’ve got nothing to do and nowhere to go, grabbing the binoculars and spying on your neighbors is a great diversion.

Kale becomes an anthropologist from his bedroom window, watching the neighbor’s lives unfold, making assumptions and seeing secrets. He watches a man have an affair with the housekeeper and sees adolescent boys watching porno movies and deceiving their mom. However, his favorite target is Ashley (Sarah Roemer), a recent transplant to the suburbs and the neighborhood babe. From his peeping, Kale learns that Ashley is an avid reader, looks great in a bikini and has a troubled home life, as the impression is given that her dad is an alcoholic and a womanizer. But Kale can’t go past his front lawn, so his dream of charming Ashley is wishful thinking.

Luck turns Kale’s way when Ashley discovers him and his friend Ronnie (Aaron Yoo) gawking through binoculars during her afternoon swim. Kale is mortified, but soon the threesome is spending each day and evening in Kale’s room, eating pizza and spying. They begin to believe their next door neighbor, Mr. Turner (David Morse), is a serial killer from Texas and this is the point where the tension is ratcheted up 360 degrees. Some of the scares I saw coming a mile away, but the best part was the director, D.J. Caruso (“Taking Lives”), used very little blood and gore to induce eye-covering.

I won’t reveal the crux of the plot, but it basically follows the same thread of Hitchock’s “Rear Window.” Is Mr. Turner a victim of a crazy teenager’s wild speculation, or is he a cold-blooded killer? You can probably guess which side of the fence he resides (no pun intended), but the journey to the conclusion is where the fun resides. And when I say fun, I really mean soiled pants, chewed fingernails and sweaty pits.

Overall, there isn’t one particular element that drives “Disturbia” into a three-star film, rather a conglomerate of goodness highlighted with the acting. Shia LaBeouf pulls off the angst-ridden teen with ease and David Morse pulls off creepy just by showing up. The end result is a surprisingly deft thriller that is certainly worth the full price ticket.

Watch the trailer for “Disturbia” at Apple.com.

There are bad films and there are bad films viewed in an overly warm theater, wedged between a dude that smells like wet dog meets a three-packs-a-day ashtray and a lady so ripe she must be smuggling gorgonzola cheese under her armpits. “The Reaping,” a new “religious thriller starring Hilary Swank (“Freedom Writers”), is the later. Hands down, it is the worst movie I have seen since “The Black Dahlia.”

Think of every “religious” movie Hollywood has churned out and it’s probably in “The Reaping.” This film is the illegitimate love child of “The Omen,” “The Exorcist,” “The Seventh Sign” and “The Ten Commandments.” Speaking of religion, I received a revelation midway through “The Reaping” that someone in marketing will get fired for wrongfully advertising this movie as a thriller. It’s a comedy.

The movie opens in South America, where Katherine Winter (Hilary Swank) and her assistant, Ben (Idris Elba), are investigating a purported miracle at a local church. Apparently an earthquake rumbled through the region and opened the tomb of a priest beloved by the locals. Instead of bones and dust, the body is perfectly preserved. Townspeople are wigging out with dementia and folks are getting sick after touching the priest. Act of God? Winter discovers a local chemical company’s bad dumping practices is the culprit and adds another scientific explanation to her “Miracles Disproved” list.

Winter is a professor at Louisiana State University and when she returns from class after her trip to South America, she has several messages from a Father Costigan (Stephen Rea). Apparently, years ago, Father Costigan served as a missionary in Africa with Winter and her family. After her husband and daughter were killed by local natives, Winter stopped believing in God and severed her relationship with Father Costigan, as he was a reminder of all she lost. Reluctantly, Winter speaks to Costigan and he tells her God is sending a warning to her through him. She is in danger he says. He gathers this from Katherine’s face burned out of every picture he has of her, of which, when put together like a puzzle, make a satanic symbol.

Coinciding with Father Costigan’s return, a visitor, Doug (David Morrissey), from a little Louisiana town called Haven, comes seeking Winter’s help. It seems the town’s river has turned to blood and the townspeople are afraid nine more plagues are approaching fast. They also believe a 12 year-old girl, Loren McConnell (AnnaSophia Robb) is to blame for the current and upcoming plagues. She was found on the banks of the river near her dead brother, who, according to the Sherriff, didn’t have a mark on his body and no cause of death. Dead set on proving “miracles” wrong once again, Winter sets out with Ben and Doug to solve the bloody river mystery in Haven.

This is where the movie turns from intriguing – in an “Exodus Decoded” (on the History channel) sort of way – to completely silly and humorous. The plagues follow one after the other, so no suspense on that front, and the moments concocted by the director, Stephen Hopkins (“Lost in Space”), can be seen a mile away and hence, not one bit chilling. I’ll leave the plot alone, in case you decide to waste your hard earned money, but I’d highly recommend passing on this and also never renting the DVD. That’s almost two hours you can never put back on the clock. Go for a walk, call a long lost friend, sleep – anything but watch this rancid glob of cinema.