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'The New World'

By Dan Vinson

This is a film about discovery. Setting the overall tone in the opening scene is something director Terrence Malick does often, and well. His previous film, 1998's "The Thin Red Line" (sideswiped by "Saving Private Ryan"), featured swimming children, and he repeats the motif here. These are Native American - or "naturals" - children off the coast of soon-to-be Virginia. It is 1607, and soon, huge ships appear. Underneath James Horner's soaring and elegant score, the Indians all run to the tree line, jockeying for a better vantage point. Who are they? Why are they here? (And speaking of vantage points, the heroic, inventive cinematography of Emmanuel Lubezki fills every rapturous frame with beauty and poetry.)

They are English explorers, of course, seeking a trade route to the West Indies. Among them: Christopher Newport (Christopher Plummer), the mutinous Capt. John Smith (Colin Farrell), spared by Newport, who then leaves Wingfield (David Thewlis) in charge until his return. They are to coexist with the Indians, and soon enough, the foreigners are approached. The Indians inspect them, their building techniques, and various metal objects. Eventually the colonists begin to "poke about," led by the newly in charge Capt. Smith. But he gets separated and captured, stolen deep into the interior. After a spooky ceremony he is treated like a guest.

This chief also wants to live in harmony, but expects the whites to be gone in the spring. Then, in a windswept wheat field, Smith meets Pocahontas. They spend every afternoon together for an undetermined period, and find love (frolicking and gazing mostly). The Indians don't know jealousy, and, in fact, don't have a word for it, but when they release Smith at the gates of Jamestown just before winter, they certainly understand danger.

The colonists are initially pleased at Smith's return, but, since he looks healthy, realize that he was basically on vacation while they were practically starving. The camp haplessly prepares for winter, and is saved from mass graves only by Pocahontas and some of her tribe. In the spring, they construct more and plant the seeds she brought. When scouts catch the colonists thriving, they attack after being fired upon. And so it begins.

Smith is ousted as leader, and Pocahontas is banished for aiding the colonists. Word comes that the Indians want to trade Pocahontas for some metal goods, and now the "princess" endures her new home. Newport arrives with more colonists and dispatches Smith to explore elsewhere. He never comes back. Tobacco pioneer John Rolfe (Christian Bale) finally pulls Pocahontas from her grief, and they try to start a life together. But what will happen when they accept the king's invitation to England?

True, a love story propels "The New World," but that's far from what it's "about." Combining swaths of history, the detailed, historic feel is what's most important, along with Malick's eye for nature. As Pocahontas (whose name is never uttered), newcomer Q'Orianka Kilcher is truly a revelation. That it's her first acting job seems unfathomable to say the least. (Remarkably, she and Farrell weren't allowed to meet until their first scene.) Malick's visuals, languorous pacing and volley of contemplative voiceovers allows, rather than forces, you to think. He trusts that audiences can link past and present together. "Who are they?" and "Why are they here?" are ever-valid American questions that few filmmakers ponder quite like Terrence Malick. See you in seven or more years. CV

'Last Holiday'

By Dan Vinson

In the kingdom of the bland, the standard plot is king, or in this case, Queen. In this remake of the poignant 1950 Alec Guinness film, the suddenly beloved Queen Latifah carries her first movie. Director Wayne Wang, previously best known for "The Joy Luck Club," if not his kindred mid-'90s character pieces "Smoke" and "Blue in the Face," more recently waded further into Hollywood with 2002's "Maid in Manhattan."

Latifah is Georgia Byrd, a plain, somewhat frumpy sales associate at Kragen's department store in New Orleans who loves cooking shows (and demonstrating in-store) and coworker Sean (LL Cool J). She cooks at home too, for a neighbor boy who discovers her "Possibilities" scrapbook - starring Sean. Georgia is somebody who keeps her head down except, unfortunately, when Sean is about to ask her out. She smacks her head on a cabinet and ends up out cold. Sean rushes her to the Kragen clinic (Is it actually in the department store? It's never really explained) where a CAT scan reveals brain tumors. Timid Dr. Gupta (Ranjit Chowdhry) suggests a second opinion, and that doctor gives her three weeks to live. So, Georgia quits her job, turns down a date with Sean, leaves church and disappears to Prague, home to her idol (besides Emeril Lagasse), Chef Didier (Gerard Depardieu). Planning to blow her life savings, she registers at the opulent Grandhotel Pupp, where Didier is head chef. What's this? Matthew Kragen (Timothy Hutton) and Louisiana Senator Dillings (Giancarlo Esposito), who much prefers big business to local issues, happen to be staying there too. It is Christmas, after all.

Georgia loves everything on this final trip - from her sheets to the lobby ceiling to the breathtaking mountains surrounding the quaint, bustling streets. But mostly, she loves the food. Deciding to become a diva upon arrival, Georgia commands attention in spectacular gowns (which fool the Kragen-Dillings camp into thinking she's loaded), but it's her sensitive palette (and money to test it) that finally brings Chef Didier to her table for one. They become pals, and soon, Georgia gets entangled with Kragen, Dillings, and Kragen's mistress/assistant (Alicia Witt) also becoming, more or less, friends. Minus Kragen himself, who abhors the attention Georgia and her luck (at roulette) get. Meanwhile back at home, Sean, after finding out why she left, tries desperately to find Georgia. Soon he's on a plane, just as Georgia decides that she wants to spend her final days back in New Orleans. Will they be like planes passing in the day? Will Kragen reform his ways? Will Georgia really die? You can probably guess.

What finally saves "Last Holiday," though, from being insipid is the performances. Queen Latifah certainly has energy and heart here, but this isn't the first time she's played a diva. She'd better reign in the overacting pretty soon. Also, Depardieu lends veteran, um, chops, to his few scenes, while LL Cool J is rather gallant and sweet. Gorgeously shot in Prague, Austria and New Orleans by Geoffrey Simpson, getting actual Europeans to play the wacky hotel staff made things funnier, eclectic (like a fine gumbo), and far less hammy.

So, despite hurdling plenty of details - Georgia has a sister, but no parents? - and being a holiday movie released after the holidays (the penultimate scene is New Year's at least, which kind of just happened), this is one predictable movie that escapes feeling tired. Groggy maybe. CV

'Glory Road'

By Joshua Tyler

"Glory Road" tells the story of Don Haskins (Josh Lucas) and his 1966 Texas Western basketball team, the first college team ever to use a starting lineup composed entirely of black players. Texas Western was a poor school, and Haskins took the job as his only way to transition from coaching girl's high school basketball into Division One NCAA. The school hired him not because they were interested in winning, but because they wanted a strong male presence to move into their men's dorm and lay down the law. Haskins had loftier plans.

But upon arriving, Haskins soon realizes he has nothing to work with. The school won't give him money for recruiting and he's stuck in El Paso, where no one in their right mind would want to live, let alone play. Determined to win, he starts thinking outside the box, and notices black players being shunned by the bigger schools, regardless of their talent. Seeing an opening, he starts recruiting from inner-city street-ballers, bringing seven black players to Texas Western to play for him. His recruiting pitch? "I don't see color, I just see talent." Vowing to his new student athletes that on his team they'll start rather than ride the bench as token black men, he turns his tiny school's basketball program around. Suddenly they've gone from last place poverty to contending for the NCAA championship.

As a sports movie, "Glory Road" follows the same predictable formula they all do, but its subject matter is such that it could have and should have used that to lift itself beyond said basic formula. Gartner never manages to balance the need to capture the explosive nature of the times in which Haskins is living, while letting us get to know and sympathize with his players on a personal level. Instead, what we're left with is an awkward grab-bag of mixed messages and mediocre on-court footage. The movie is a lame-duck. The players and coaches of Texas Western changed the sport of basketball forever; "Glory Road" accomplishes nothing. CV

'Tristan and Isolde'

By Scott Gwin

After the recent film debacle that was "King Arthur," the idea of another ancient British legend gone movie might sound risky. But give this one a shot. You might be pleasantly surprised.

The legend of Tristan and Isolde has roots going back as far as the 13th century, and like any good ancient tale there are many variations on the theme. In this retelling, Isolde, the sole daughter of Ireland's king, rescues the war-wounded Tristan and, not knowing who he is, secretly nurses him to health while pretending to be a simple handmaiden. The two fall passionately in love but are quickly separated when Tristan is forced to flee to his English homeland.

In an effort to divide and conquer England's lords, the Irish king offers up his daughter's hand in marriage to the winner of an open tournament. Tristan enters and fights, unwittingly winning Isolde as a wife for his adopted uncle and king. The cruel triangle that results forces all three to decide where their true loves and loyalties lie, leading to a struggle that could destroy the fragile Briton kingdom.

Sophia Myles' portrayal of Isolde is striking and impassioned, capturing all the pains and joys of a character torn in so many directions. Too bad the same can't be said for her male counterpart. Despite pumping Tristan full of energy and emotion in the first act of the story, James Franco loses his groove later, descending into a flat-lined pout-fest that makes Hayden Christenson's performance in "Attack of the Clones" look like Oscar material.

While still a solid movie, "Tristan and Isolde" lacks the polish and finesse needed to be an outstanding film. Reynolds seems to have lost his footing a bit since his recent success with "The Count of Monte Cristo." At the very least though, we can be thankful for the small favors - a passable storyline and a sword-swinging romantic lead that isn't played by Orlando Bloom. CV

'Brokeback Mountain'

By Dan Vinson

Many reviews of this film have begun with a joke. This one won't. "Saturday Night Live" skewered it, and even Nathan Lane too on "David Letterman." Is it because it's a big, beautiful love story featuring cowboys? Is it because those cowboys are Heath Ledger and Jake Gyllenhaal? No matter, director Ang Lee's grand work rises above it all, largely thanks to Larry McMurtry and Diana Ossana's screenplay, respectfully adapted from Annie Proulx's 1997 New Yorker short story. Mr. "Lonesome Dove," incidentally, has said frequently it's one of the best he's ever read.

The time is 1963. The place: Signal, Wyo. Jack Twist (Gyllenhaal) and Ennis Del Mar (Ledger) - names only a short story writer could create - show up to herd sheep for the summer, and into the fall. Jack has worked for Mr. Aguirre (Randy Quaid) before, and knows how rough it will be up on Brokeback, especially because Aguirre's senseless rules, designed to keep his sheep safe, damn the herders. Jack and Ennis stick to work initially, talking mostly about their crappy jobs, dismal lives and growing hatred of baked beans. (Odd job man Ennis' parents died in a car accident, Jack's don't have much use for him or his rodeo antics.) It storms, it snows, there are bears, coyotes and other flocks, but there are also stunning days and sunsets. One night after too much whiskey, Ennis can't make it back down to the valley and rather than freeze, he shares the tent and more with Jack. In the morning, neither is quite sure what the previous night meant, so they say nothing. (Eventually, both state they "ain't queer.") For the remainder of the job, though, they grow closer, and when it's done, neither can bear it.

But Ennis heads off to marry Alma (Michelle Williams) and Jack goes back to rodeo. Both take jobs wherever they can. In Texas, Jack meets, and eventually marries, wealthy, stunt horse ridin' Lureen (Ann Hathaway). After four years, Ennis receives a postcard and the film takes another turn. The story covers another 16 years of their home life (or lack thereof) and planned monthly "fishing trips." (One wife suspects, the other doesn't, and the four certainly never get together with their families.) Over time the fashions, hair, and pickup trucks change, but their time together (and nostalgia for that first summer) remains a constant. Unfortunately, so do heartbreak and hard times. The movie begins and ends, curiously, in trailers, and everything that transpires between that first job and Ennis alone with his thoughts is quite the journey.

"Brokeback Mountain" is a classic love-that-can-never-be story, but also fits the non-traditional western mold. "Modern" westerns like "The Misfits" (an obvious influence here) and 1950s grim-period westerns like Budd Boetticher's complex "Comanche Station," or Anthony Mann's "The Naked Spur," with its "city" actors and James Stewart as a severe bounty hunter, are discussed much more now than John Wayne's.

From his early work in his native China to the American suburbs of "The Ice Storm" and up through "The Hulk," Ang Lee has focused on outsiders. Cinematographer Rodriego Prieto knows scenery and constantly mixes grit and grandeur, and the nomination-laden actors are all superb, especially Ledger. For 20 years his character is consumed, but mostly confounded by his love for another - man. Perhaps in another 20 years, most will have forgotten why that fact once mattered. CV

'Hostel'

By Jon Gaskell

People are sick, and "Hostel," written and directed by Eli Roth at the urging of Quentin Tarantino, proves it. Because not only is "Hostel" one of the more disturbing, over-the-top, gross-out movies in recent history, but it also did more than $20 million in ticket sales its first weekend despite a reputation for being more than a little hard to stomach.

It's just too bad it's pointless - unless, of course, you're in attendance to simply squirm in your seat: a bolt cutter to a person's toe, a blowtorch to another's eye, the slicing of a couple Achilles tendons, a cordless power drill to a knee cap. And then there's drug use, a roving band of aggressive criminal-minded children, tits, ass, bigotry and misogyny.

What's that? Good fun, you say? Well that's what two adventurous Americans, Paxton and Josh, thought when they decided to go backpacking across Europe with Oli, a skirt-chasing Icelander. And when a fellow traveler promises them that all of their fantasies would come true by simply skipping Barcelona and hitting a spot in Eastern Europe instead, the three are off like prom dresses for some "killer pussy" - literally.

Motivated by Roth's urge to shock - not terrify - an audience, "Hostel" is based on Thai urban legend that has billionaire businessmen flying to Asia in order to pay top dollar so that they can fulfill their most sadistic wishes - think bolt cutters and blowtorches. And as with Joel Schumacher's haunting work about the snuff industry, "8mm," there is apparently nothing more boring than being wealthy beyond one's own wildest dreams.

But what could have been a unique, imaginative film on exploitation that truly scared moviegoers - and not just the 17-year-old boy set - never gets past its own self delight with simply being disgusting. Barf bags, maybe. Jolts, none. CV

'Casanova'

By Erin Randolph

Much in the same way Heath Ledger's "A Knight's Tale" butchered any sense of historical realism, "Casanova" is extremely loosely based on the memoirs of Giacomo Casonova (also played by Ledger), a famous writer, adventurer and infamous ladies man. Abandoned by his mother as a child, Casanova knows no difference between lust and love, and recklessly pursues female conquests with the same frequency one might pursue a meal.

He spends just about as much time trying to evade the puritanical inquisitors (including Jeremy Irons in an amusing turn as Pucci, head inquisitor) as he does in women's beds. But when he meets feminist Francesca Bruni (Sienna Miller), Casanova becomes infatuated with the one woman he can't have, as Bruni publishes pamphlets on women's rights under a pen name in protest of men like Casanova. When her fiancŽ, Paprizzio (Oliver Platt), a "rotund" lard merchant, shows up in Venice, Casanova uses convoluted mistaken-identity situations to his advantage in an attempt to get close to Bruni. Little plot surprises follow.

The costumes and scenery, of course, are beautiful, as it would be nearly impossible to make 18th century Venice anything but.

"Casanova" isn't as bad as it could have been - no, should have been - thanks to plot-saving performances by Ledger, Miller and Platt. (Ledger would do well to stick with roles like his one in the groundbreaking homosexual cowboy drama, "Brokeback Mountain," instead of taking roles in films like "Casanova" and "A Knight's Tale.") While none gives a particularly moving or hilarious performance, they're not really given the opportunity to do so, as the script doesn't do them any favors.

"Casanova" never quite becomes what it's attempting to be: an enjoyable 18th century, farcical film about the world's greatest lover. However, its attempts at being clever end up as mere juvenile humor, which might have gone over with its audience had it been rated PG - or even PG-13 - instead of R. Overall, "Casanova" just isn't as charming as its namesake was. He might have been able to seduce a convent of nuns, but the film does little to seduce its audience. CV

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