Director: Jonathan Liebesman
Starring:R. Lee Ermey, Jordana Brewster, Andrew Bryniarski,
Matthew Bomer, Diora Baird, Taylor Handley
Scheduled Release: November 16

There’s a great conversation that goes on in the original The Texas Chainsaw Massacre where a crazed man and a van of hippies awkwardly talk about the difference between the new way of killing cattle and the old, barbaric ways. The new way is painless and more sanitary in general, but it was bad for social matters (layoffs, machinery-over-manpower etc.) but the old way was brutal, unclean and considered inhumane. At the time, this conversation was meant to point out how the ‘60s counter-culture wanted to help the poor workers but disapproved and actually fought to get rid of the jobs they had. How proper it is that now, 32 years after the original and three years after the original remake, the same argument can be used to discuss what has now become the Texas Chainsaw Massacre franchise.
The film begins with the terrifically gruesome birth of none other than Tommy Hewitt, aka Leatherface (Andrew Bryniarski). He is born in the dark, dirty floor of an old-style killing floor, and thrown out in the garbage behind the plant. There, he is saved by an elderly woman who brings him home and puts him under the care of his Uncle Charlie (R. Lee Ermey), who later takes on the identity of Sheriff Hoyt, the Texas town’s only cop who is disposed of after he calls Tommy “retarded.” Time passes and the Hewitt family, at the full swing of the Vietnam War, happens upon two soldiers and their girlfriends. Only one of the girlfriends (Jordana Brewster) stands a chance of surviving the night.
If it’s gore you want, you’re in luck, dear readers. Whether it’s the squirm-worthy opening birth, the tongue extractions or the stunning dissection of one of the soldiers (the film’s only true scary moment), director Jonathan Liebesman has a knack for wounds and meaty repulsion. Sadly, this is the only thing that is done right. Like the original remake, the film buys into the current culture of loud noises and shiny gloss that just barely passes for scary. Instead of building fright through tension, grittiness, and atmosphere, the scares all come from basic responses (hear a loud bang, you’re bound to jump). It’s a cheat and a particularly cruel one considering the original film still stands as the horror genre’s most pungent, experimental, and downright freaky statement to date.
The only thing the film shares with the original incarnation is the use of actors as pieces of meat rather than performers. The original TCM was genius in its ability to destroy all sense of protagonist and antagonist (we don’t really care that the flower children are getting diced up). However, in that film there was a sense of purpose behind it, using it to point out the hypocrisy of the counter-culture. Here, they give the characters dialect to turn them into melodramatic time bombs, hitting a new low when one victim asks his girlfriend for the names of their two would-be children, right before Leatherface revs up his little beast. If Hostel was the horror genre’s dispassionate yawn, The Beginning is the follow-up stretch in relief, giving up on the ideals that infused the early films of the genre. In other words, it commits the crime of being totally and utterly tiresome. Chris Cabin

Starring: James Franco, Jean Reno, David Ellison, Martin Henderson, Jennifer Decker
Director: Tony Bill
Scheduled Release: November 16

Airplanes parked on runways aren’t very exciting. Sure, the motionless crafts contain the components necessary for flight, but they only achieve their fullest potential when they leave the ground and soar through the skies.
The same can be said for Flyboys. When its protagonists are grounded, Tony Bill’s recounting of the birth of World War I fighter pilots resembles every other ham-fisted tale of historic heroism that has come down the cinematic pipe. But the movie triumphs when these men climb into their cockpits and finally fly.
Bland James Franco leads the baby-faced pack of soldiers who, in 1914, felt they had something to prove to their girlfriend/father/ squad leader/general. The brave adventurers enlist in France’s fledgling Lafayette Escadrille, a small group of pilots trained by General Thenault (Jean Reno, Hollywood’s go-to French actor), who pioneered an aerial attack in the Great War against Germany. What these boys don’t learn before signing on the dotted line is that the Lafayette Escadrille embarks on what are basically suicide missions. Life expectancy of a pilot in the program is three to six weeks.
That doesn’t stop former ranch hand Blaine Rawlings (Franco) from pouring his heart into the war effort. Flyboys takes a perversely upbeat approach to combat. The new recruits march past maimed soldiers, yet forget the horrors of war once they spot the royal estate that serves as their barracks. The surviving members of Lafayette Escadrille regroup each evening to carouse in the military base’s makeshift watering hole – since they’re all on borrowed time, we’re told they can’t waste precious minutes honoring the dead. Yet in a scene that rings particularly false, Franco uses his airplane (which we’ve been lectured is a killing machine) to romance a local French girl (Jennifer Decker) and entertain her brother’s children. Try to ignore the fact that the kids’ father was decimated in a battle-related explosion not too long ago. We’re supposed to be having fun here, people.
These lighter moments and the softened tone conflict with the film’s impressive but lethal combat scenes. The men of Lafayette Escadrille risk life and limb on scarred battlefields recreated using the finest digital effects available. As mentioned, Flyboys drastically improves once in the air. Bill and his effects team rocket model planes through dizzying aeronautic sequences, though his action relies too heavily on blue-screen treatments and the airborne clashes grow repetitive over the film’s long running time (2 hours and 20 minutes… about 40 minutes too long).
The edgy flight shots and stimulating biplane battles make Flyboys a better movie. They just don’t make it a good one. Sean O’Connell

Starring: Kevin Costner, Ashton Kutcher, Melissa Sagemiller
Director: Andrew Davis
Scheduled Release: November 16

Much like Top Gun and, to a lesser extent, An Officer and a Gentleman, Andrew Davis’ boys-in-basic-training melodrama The Guardian primarily functions as a recruitment tool for its chosen military branch. The Coast Guard would do well to have volunteers posted outside theaters this weekend. Put down the popcorn, pas是s around the sign-up sheet, and point the way to the pool – we’re ready to enlist.
These movies have an established pattern, and Guardian follows it to the letter. To borrow a phrase from Ron L. Brinkerhoff’s soggy screenplay, Guardian swims with the current as it ticks off predictable accomplishments en route to a by-the-book conclusion. At times, it’s laudable. At times, it’s laughable. But nothing prepared me for the sheer atrocity that occurs in the film’s final frames.
Before we get to that, let’s discuss the plot. The Coast Guard’s rescue swimmers are an elite bunch, and Ben Randall (Kevin Costner) is the best of the best. His years of heroism have come with a price. The demands of the job cost Randall his wife (Sela Ward), his rescue partner, and his health. After a harrowing rescue goes awry, Randall is ordered to take a teaching position at the Guard’s training facility, where he’s tasked to mold the next generation of fearless swimmers.
Randall’s class mainly consists of screenwriting clichés. There’s a muscle-bound show-off who gets booted because he can’t stay afloat. There’s a glutton for punishment who has flunked the program twice already but keeps coming back for more water torture. Not surprisingly, I can’t recall the characters’ names. Randall’s star pupil is Jake Fischer (Ashton Kutcher), a varsity swim stud who turned down offers from multiple Ivy League schools so he could enroll in the Coast Guard. We learn why Fischer made this decision late in the film, and it requires Kutcher to break down and cry – not a skill the actor has mastered. Davis and Kutcher are better off leaving the waterworks for the pool.
And the pool is where Guardian spends most of its lengthy 136-minute run time. Davis balances exciting rescue missions with seemingly impossible training sessions. Randall butts heads with rival instructor Skinner (Neal McDonough) over his harsh tactics, though the grizzled chief simply wants his recruits prepared for accurate, real-life rescue situations. In between dives, Fischer backstrokes through the Gentleman training manual, romancing a local townie (Melissa Sagemiller) as he rebels against the school’s authority figures.
It’s all acceptable, though largely predictable. This ship’s destination is never in question, until the end. Discussing endings in a review is inappropriate. Without giving anything away, I’ll say that the final 15 minutes of The Guardian are the worst I’ve seen on film this year. The coda sinks to unseen and inexcusable depths of cheese. If you choose to see Guardian and want to be rescued from the experience, leave at the two-hour mark. Sean O’Connell

Starring: Greg Kinnear, Toni Collette, Abigail Breslin, Alan Arkin,
Steve Carell, Paul Dano
Director: Jonathan Dayton, Valerie Faris
Scheduled Release: November 23

The most visited genre in film may be the family drama. It’s probably popular to produce because it’s something everyone can relate to – having a family with issues not fit for public consumption and seeing them resolved in two hours with some great acting thrown in for good measure, hopefully. Whether it’s got some laughter during the course of events or not, it’s getting quite difficult to come up with original ideas that force a family to change, or work together, or learn about each other, in an entertaining fashion.
And now, here’s Little Miss Sunshine. You’re not quite sure what you’re in for during the Sundance-touting trailer as you see snippets of a family dinner. You know they are going to be quirky, based on their remarks and the quick cuts. You also know the acting will be dependable because of the stellar cast, including Greg Kinnear, Toni Collette, and Alan Arkin. Plus, it’s got a cute girl with glasses you know you’re going to cheer on because the title is based on her.
Combining these reliable creative forces with outstanding dialogue and appropriate timing, Little Miss Sunshine is an engaging experience. Co-directors Jonathan Dayton and Valerie Faris not only make a long dinner scene interesting, but an interminable drive through a visually boring landscape also never gets old.
Little Miss Sunshine is the road trip story of how little seven-year-old Olive gets to a competition she’s been trying to reach for years, the titular subject. Normally each member of the family has their own self-centered focus, but Olive’s achievement of acceptance takes precedence and they pile into the car to spout wit aplenty and deal with themselves.
Everyone has their own fault or weakness, of course, and each comes to light in its turn, with an intelligent grace instead of an easy resolution. For instance, when Richard’s (Kinnear) book deal does not come across as planned, his verbally horny father (Arkin) gives a brief acknowledgement of his efforts, which is stilted due to lack of practice but no less sincere. Richard’s response matches it, quietly but no less thankfully. The entire film has this wonderful balance of handling emotional issues without ever getting precious or melodramatic.
Olive (Abigail Breslin) is thankfully not the perfect child, either. One of the first comments she makes is to her uncle, who recently attempted suicide (Steve Carell) because of an unrequited, homosexual, affair, which she calls silly. Also, instead of making her say something cute, she simply places her arm around her brother’s shoulder to make him rejoin the family after an outburst.
Little Miss Sunshine is enjoyable because it’s moving without being pedantic, it’s funny while being honest about how family members treat each other, and it takes everything about being human with a smart affection sorely lacking in current filmmaking. Rachel Gordon

Starring: Peng Xinyi, Sun Yiming
Director: Ling Yiyun
Scheduled Release: Now showing

‘It is a sin to be a teacher.’
A candid representation of the half million ‘unprofessional’ schools and teachers in China, Ling Yiyun’s modest film is a heartfelt reflection on those who make it their mission to educate the pupils of China’s needy villages.
Set on the beautiful but detached island of Po Yang Lake, Substitute Teacher opens with the village children taunting the cadre about his inability to find them a teacher. Until the arrival of Gu Xiaolin, a girl from Shanghai seeking Ms. Liu, who used to be the village teacher before falling ill. Gu’s purpose is to condole with Ms Liu after the death of her son, Gu’s ex-boyfriend. Whilst waiting for Ms. Liu’s return from being treated in the city, the new arrival is persuaded to temporarily substitute as the teacher for around 20 children in the wooden hut classroom. When she finds out that, in an attempt to keep her as long as possible, the village has hidden the seriousness of Ms. Liu’s sickness and that she has already been away for a year, Gu is faced with the choice of whether to keep her initial promise: “I won’t leave until Ms. Liu comes back.” As she learns more about the personal life of Ms. Liu and the death of her ex-boyfriend, she gradually comes to understand why mother and son left their big city origins to dedicate their lives to the poor area.
From the untainted rural landscapes to the stirring relationship between Gu and her students, this moving film triumphs in its sincerity and simplicity. The loud and pompous cadre allows for some amusement, and the mischievous children evoke both laughter and a wrench at the heart. In particular, the bond between Dongdong, a young mute boy, and Gu is touching without being melodramatic. And for those who can make do without subtitles, the dialogue is the ground for the authentic feel of this well-crafted, poignant tale. A breather from Hollywood well worth taking.
Victoria Wang

Starring: Gilbert Melki, Valeria Bruni Tedeschi, Sabria Seyvecou, Romain Torres, Edouard Collin, Jean-Marc Barr, Jacques Bonnaffé
Director: Olivier Ducastel, Jacques Martineau
Scheduled Release: November 16

If a cool upscale French family invited you to spend the summer at their charming chateau on the Riviera, you’d go, right? So would I. That’s the promise of Marisco Beach: a funny, sexy, and very French diversion that’s as weightless as a Mediterranean breeze.
Dad Marc (Gilbert Melki) and Mom Béatrix (Valeria Bruni Tedeschi) have brought their two teenage children Laura (Sabrina Seyvecou) and Charly (Romain Torres) to the family manse for another seaside summer. Laura soon takes off for Portugal on the back of her boyfriend’s motorcycle, leaving Charly alone. To liven things up, he invites his best friend Martin (Edouard Collin) to join in on the vacation fun. Cue the sexual hijinks.
While it’s a known fact that Martin is gay, Marc and Béatrix are increasingly unsure about their own son’s sexuality, not that Béatrix really minds. She’s half Dutch, she tells Marc, and therefore more tolerant than him with his uptight French background. Charly has long flowing hair and a classic Gallic pout that lend him a Pre-Raphaelite beauty, and Martin constantly urges him to “come out of zee closette,” even though Charly insists he’s not gay. All Dad knows for sure is that Charly spends way too much time in the shower “scrubbing himself,” and the constant lack of hot water is the film’s most charming running joke. That shower will get a lot of use before the film ends.
Béatrix has her own little secret, namely a horny older lover (Jacques Bonnaffé) who has followed her from the city in order to keep their affair going, outdoors under the bushes if necessary. Béatrix is so laid back that she really doesn’t care who she’s doing it with as long as someone is stripping her of her bathing suit on a daily basis.
Marc seems oblivious to the sexual shenanigans going on around the house, but that’s because he has his own sexual secret. Spying young Martin in the shower arouses him, and soon we realize that there’s more to Marc than just loving French father. In fact, when Martin goes out cruising in the dunes, he encounters a hunky local plumber named Didier (the always welcome Jean-Marc Barr), who happens to know Marc from days gone by.
So…who is going to couchez with whom? That’s the fun of the second half of the film, as people spy on each other, secrets get revealed, and new partnerships form. The story whizzes by with good humor and a relaxed liberalism the likes of which you wouldn’t find in, say, the United States of America. Things are so light, in fact, that at times the cast breaks into musical numbers in a sort of homage to classic French films like . Some may find this a bit much; even Pedro Almodóvar doesn’t pull that stunt. Still, if you just “go with le flow” and accept that everyone is hopped up on the aphrodisiac oysters they’ve been slurping throughout (the film’s French title translates as “Shellfish and Seafood,”) you’ll accept the shaky singing and corny dancing. Just sit back and wait for the blissfully happy ending.