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Susan Granger's review of "PRICE OF GLORY" (New Line Cinema)
Jimmy Smits has a lot riding on this picture; it's the movie for which he killed off his character in TV's "NYPD Blue." Written by sports columnist Phil Berger and directed by Carlos Avila, who developed the concept at the Sundance Institute, it's the story of a Mexican immigrant, Arturo Ortega (Smits), a pushy retired boxer who is trying to instill the prizefighting spirit in his three sons, Sonny (Jon Seda), Jimmy (Clifton Collins Jr.), and Johnny (Ernesto Hernandez). Like Don Corleone and his three sons in "The Godfather," it's a cultural heritage saga - with boxing being the primary way for Latinos to break out of the Arizona barrio. The film opens with the ill-fated match that dashed Arturo's dreams of being a champion in the late '70s. Then there are glimpses of the boys growing up, being trained to be boxers, so the scene is set for the primary drama, which takes place in the present. According to Arturo's plans, two of his sons will fight; the third will go to college. Only things don't always go as planned. Jimmy Smits captures the universality of the well-intentioned but ill-advised father-figure ("Everything I've ever done is for you boys!") with Maria Del Mar as a persuasive counter-balance as the mother. In melodramatic, cliché-ridden characterizations, Clifton Collins Jr. is cocky and rebellious, while Ernesto Hernandez is obedient and eager-to-please. But it's Golden Gloves alum Jon Seda (TV's "Homicide") who delivers the knockout performance as a man whose dreams extend far beyond the ring. In supporting roles, Ron Perlman is a ruthless promoter with Paul Rodriguez as a greedy insider. On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, "Price of Glory" is a solemn, sweat-stained 6. Essentially, it's an old-fashioned, tough-love family drama set within the realm of boxing.

Susan Granger's review of "HERE ON EARTH" (20th Century-Fox)
Teenybopper alert: this picture is made just for you. Forget about the rest of us. We've seen it before in "Love Story," but you haven't so, here goes. Leelee Sobieski is a feisty waitress from the wrong side of the tracks. Josh Hartnett is her townie boy-friend, and Chris Klein is a cocky, Princeton-bound, Boston-bred prep-school kid who takes his shiny new Mercedes out for a drive in rural Massachusetts. A dangerous car race brings their lives together when it results in the destruction of a local diner called Mabel's Table, owned by Sobieski's mom (Annette O'Toole). In fitting punishment, Klein and Hartnett are forced to rebuild the family-run restaurant as community service during the summer. That involves snobby Klein boarding with Hartnett's working-class family and falling for Sobieski. But that's a minor trauma compared with the tragedy that happens later - when Sobieski discovers that her old track injury to her knee has developed into cancer. After "Eyes Wide Shut," TV's "Joan of Arc," and "A Soldier's Daughter Never Cries," Leelee Sobieski basks in the teenage mainstream, while amiable Chris Klein goes sulky and serious after "American Pie" and "Election." They do their best with the material they're given. It's just too bad that Michael Seitzman's soap-opera script is so lame, Mark Piznarski's direction so slow-paced and prosaic, and Andrea Morricone's score so schmaltzy. On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, "Here on Earth" is a pubescent, tear-jerking 4. The title comes from poet Robert Frost's musings about the beautiful Berkshire woods where the lovers discover "a little bit of heaven, here on earth."

Susan Granger's review of "THE SKULLS" (Universal Pictures)
Having lived in New Haven for many years, I often wondered when Hollywood would capture the suspense and influence inherent in influential, century-old secret societies like Yale's Skull and Bones. Obviously, screenwriter John Pogue (a Yale dropout) and director Ron Cohen sensed the intrigue but they've failed to capture the drama in this bland, formulaic, heavy-handed dud. Joshua Jackson (TV's "Dawson's Creek") plays a pre-law student at a prestigious Ivy League university only identified as "Y" but with tell-tale blue-and-white colors on its crew jerseys. Being from a working-class background, at first he's thrilled when he's tapped by the powerful Skulls, primarily because, as a member, he'll get pre-acceptance to law school, along with tuition, plus several other enticing amenities that money can buy - like $20,000 in his depleted bank account and a new car. But after his best buddy and room-mate (Hill Harper) is killed while delving into the Skulls' malevolent little secrets for the college newspaper, he begins to have second-thoughts - which are aided and abetted by his intended blue-blood girl-friend (Leslie Bibb). If you remember that President George Bush was a member of Yale's Skull and Bones, along with his son George W., you'll catch the nasty innuendoes about a father-son team hierarchy - only here, it's a prominent judge (Craig T. Nelson) who's aiming at the Supreme Court while his weasly son (Paul Walker) is up to no good on campus. And William Peterson does what looks like a President Clinton imitation. The grisly, garish initiation rites are straight out of the coffins in a Gothic horror novel. On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, "The Skulls" is a silly, brainless 1. Numskulls is more like it - so don't even bother renting the eventual video.

Susan Granger's review of "WHATEVER IT TAKES" (Columbia Pictures)
Screenwriter Mark Schwahn updates "Cyrano de Bergerac" in this stereotypical teenybopper comedy that's so stupid, crass, even misogynistic, that it's insulting to the vulnerable audience for whom it's intended. And, for his cast, director David Raynr has recruited TV stars whose generic personas can barely fill the big screen. Shane West of "Once and Again" plays a nerdy, sensitive Gilmore High School senior who lends his poetic ability to the hunky jock - that's James Franco ("Freaks and Geeks") - who's smitten with West's next-door neighbor, Marla Sokoloff ("The Practice"). In turn, Franco helps West score with his cousin, the bra-less, bodacious Jodi Lyn O'Keefe ("Nash Bridges"). And, of course, the senior prom's just around the corner. What's inevitable is that West will realize that his true soul-mate is his best-friend Sokoloff and vice versa but it takes 92 excruciating minutes to get there. Not that I don't like teen comedies - but let's go back to the John Hughes' "Breakfast Club," "Pretty in Pink," genre, where at least the actors had some charm. The only attempt at cleverness comes when the accordion-playing West does a riff on Tom Cruise's "Risky Business" lip-sync, dressed in boxer shorts and a cowboy hat. Then there's Julia Sweeney, as West's mother/school nurse, delivering a guaranteed giggle with a safe-sex demonstration. And as an alum of Beverly Hills High School, I was surprised to see that its famous hydraulically retractable dance-floor over the Olympic-sized swimming pool is still in good working order, as shown in the perverse "Titanic Dreams" prom finale. On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, "Whatever It Takes" flunks with a 3. Well, duh!

Susan Granger's review of "ROAD TO EL DORADO" (DreamWorks)
Like the classic Bob Hope-Bing Crosby road movies, this family comedy chronicles the misadventures of two bumbling, somewhat inept con-artists whose enthusiastic camaraderie is as much fun as the excitement they encounter. The story begins in 1519 in Spain, where Tulio (Kevin Kline) and Miguel (Kenneth Branagh) win a map to El Dorado, the legendary City of Gold, and inadvertently become stowaways on the ship of the Spanish explorer Cortes. With the help of Ativo, a clever war horse, they escape and stumble into idyllic El Dorado, where they're proclaimed as gods. Only a smart, sexy schemer named Chel (Rosie Perez) sees through their ruse. "I want in on the scam so I can get out," she declares - and they agree. But, as the evil High Priest (Armand Assante) plots to grab power from the Chief (Edward James Olmos), Cortes and his army are marching on the city. That's when Tulio and Miguel have their ingenuity and friendship truly tested. Road to El Dorado is the first major studio animated feature of the new millennium - following the trail of Antz and Prince of Egypt. The joke-filled script is character-driven with Tulio as the cynical realist and Miguel as the romantic idealist; and the lush visuals - combining traditional and computer techniques - are exquisite, drawing extensively from the Mayan culture of the Yucatan. The music is catchy and the lyrics clever in the six original songs written by Tim Rice and Elton John, who does the vocals - except when Kline and Branagh croon the witty, comedic "It's Tough to be a God." And there's definitely a PG-rated moment when the bantering rogues skinny-dip in the hot-springs. On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, Road to El Dorado is a fast-paced, raucous 8 - great fun for spirited adventurers of all ages.

Susan Granger's review of "HIGH FIDELITY" (Touchstone Pictures)
In this romantic comedy, John Cusack plays a self-confessed music junkie who owns Championship Vinyl, a dilapidated record store in downtown Chicago. Having just been dumped by his girl-friend (delectable Danish actress Iben Hjejle), he spends his days playing verbal trivia games with his two moronic employees (Todd Louiso, Jack Black), who share his encyclopedic knowledge of pop music and the music scene, and most nights morbidly picking at the scab of his emotional misery. In the form of an into-the-camera confessional, he chronicles the failed relationships that repeated his first rejection at age 14 in junior high school. "Did I listen to pop music because I was miserable or was I miserable because I listened to pop music?" he muses, organizing his record collection, not alphabetically or chronologically, but autobiographically, so he has to remember the connections. While he considers himself unlucky in love, his ex's include Catherine Zeta Jones, Lili Taylor, Joelle Carter and Lisa Bonet. Joan Cusack plays his pal while Tim Robbins is hilarious as a rival suitor. Based on a novel by Nick Hornby, it's been cleverly adapted by D.V. DeVincentis & Steve Pink & John Cusack, who worked together on Grosse Pointe Blank, plus Scott Rosenberg and perceptively directed by Stephen Frears, who makes Cusack into a self-reflecting Everyman who wonders if he'll ever find true love. With his ingratiating charm and impeccable timing, Cusack is not only likable but believable. On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, High-Fidelity is an honest, funny, ironic 8. Striking a timely, contemporary note, it's a "must see" for anyone who wants to know the truth about young men - and their obsession with music.

Susan Granger's review of "ERIN BROCKOVICH" (Universal Pictures)
It's too bad Erin Brockovich wasn't released last year because Julia Roberts would be Oscar's top contender as the smart, struggling, twice-divorced mother of three young children who, without law expertise, defies the odds, takes on and defeats a major public utilities company. Funny, flippant, and feisty, she's sensational as a Norma Rae-type of heroine. Based on true events, the story revolves around Erin's discovery of a cover-up involving contaminated water which is causing devastating illnesses in a small California desert community. Infuriated by the deception, she convinces her grumpy, avuncular boss, brilliantly played by Albert Finney, to allow her not only to investigate but to convince the leery local citizenry to join in litigation against Pacific Gas & Electric Co.. "It's hexavalent chromium, highly toxic, highly carcinogenic," she explains. "Gets into your DNA, so you pass the trouble along to your kids." With over 600 plaintiffs, they win $333 million, the largest settlement ever paid in a direct-action suit. Brassy and bold - with the cleavage created by her uplift brassiere always showing - mini-skirted Erin also picks up a boy-friend (Aaron Eckhart), the biker next door, who watches her kids while she tackles the job that earns her respect - for the first time in her life. Written by Susannah Grant and Richard LaGravenese and directed by Steven Soderberg, yeah, it's sexist and a bit too lengthy - but those are minor quibbles. And if the plot sounds similar to A Civil Action, the difference can be summed up in two words: Julia Roberts. On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, Erin Brockovich is a feel-good, nifty 9 - the first "must see" movie of the new millennium. And let's hope voters don't forget when Academy Award nominations come 'round in 2001.

Susan Granger's review of "WHAT PLANET ARE YOU FROM?" (Columbia Pictures)
After The Graduate, Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?, Carnal Knowledge, Heartburn, even Primary Colors, there's no question that director Mike Nichols relishes exploring the relationship between the sexes. Which explains why he was drawn to comedian Garry Shandling's concept of an extraterrestrial who was sent to Earth to impregnate a woman as a part of some sort of universal domination plan. Having this alien come from an advanced civilization of neutered, cloned males with little knowledge of the behavior of the female of the species is a clever concept, ripe for scathing social satire, but its execution misses the mark. In addition to his writing and producing efforts, Shandling stars, utilizing his wry, dead-pan understatement to be an awkward, almost totally passive hero. The primary gimmick revolves around his surgically implanted penis which emits a motorized humming sound when he becomes aroused. The gag is amusing the first time, the second, even the third. After that, it loses its vibe. Posing as a banker in Phoenix, his copulating mission is simple. "I have to have sex right away," he gasps. "I'm really very horny!" A sleazy co-worker, played by Greg Kinnear, takes him to troll at an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting where he meets Annette Bening, a neurotic, lovable Earth-chick who is, indeed, easy. "Don't laugh," she says, "but I'm working as a real-estate agent" - a line that immediately elicits chuckles as a reminder of her role in American Beauty. Bening's terrific, while John Goodman, Linda Fiorentino, Camryn Manheim, Janeane Garofalo and Ben Kingsley add to the mix. On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, What Planet Are You From? is a droll but silly, superficial 6. I suspect Garry Shandling will have a limited big-screen career as a leading man.

Susan Granger's review of "MISSION TO MARS" (Touchstone Pictures)
Every critic has favorites - and one of mine is good science-fiction. Unfortunately, I had high expectations for this adventure/drama, starring Gary Sinese, Don Cheadle, Connie Nielsen, Jerry O'Connell, Kim Delaney and Tim Robbins. Directed by Brian De Palma, this astronaut saga is so derivative of 2001, Close Encounters, and Apollo 13, not to mention numerous other space odysseys, that the territory it explores seems too familiar to be as truly exciting as the coming attractions trailers lead you to believe. The story begins in 2020, when NASA has successfully landed a team of astronauts on Mars. However, shortly after their arrival, there's a catastrophic disaster on the red planet and the Mission Commander is the sole survivor. Alerted to the danger by his one cryptic message, a second NASA crew is sent on a hurried six-month journey to rescue him. Once there, mysterious and shocking discoveries await them, including the provocative pseudo-scientific hypothesis that the DNA for life on Earth originated on Mars. But, Houston, there's a problem. Based on a story by Lowell Cannon with Jim & John Thomas, the heavy-handed screenplay by the Thomases and Graham Yost, is filled with stereotypical characters spewing idiotic, cliché-ridden dialogue. On the other hand, the cinematography and special effects are definitely cool, particularly the zero-gravity scenes which resemble ballets in their grace and ease. You forget the actors are hanging on wires, balancing upside-down, spinning, and pushing themselves around. Then there's the hole in the spaceship that's filled by soda pop. On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, Mission to Mars is a middlin' 5. Granted, it beat Red Planet to the screen, but I still have high hopes for the similarly themed second Mars movie of the season.

Susan Granger's review of "THE GREEN MILE" (Warner Bros.)
Remember The Green Mile. You'll hear it a lot at the Academy Awards next March. This
film has Oscar written all over it. Based on Stephen King's best-seller, it's set on Death Row in a Southern prison in 1935. The title refers to the stretch of lime-colored linoleum from the cell block to the electric chair. Tom Hanks plays the head guard who recalls, in flashback, his poignant, mystical friendship with an unusual prisoner, a black man with a mysterious, supernatural gift. This massive, seven-foot tall inmate, played by Michael Clarke Duncan, was convicted of the rape and murder of two little girls, yet his naive nature and gentle demeanor not only raise questions about his guilt but also about the inexplicable nature of miracles. As in every fable, there has to be a villain. In this case, there are two: Doug Hutchison, as Hanks' sadistic subordinate, and Sam Rockwell, as a vicious serial killer. And there are three executions. The second is so boldly horrifying that the words like gruesome and gory seem trivial. But there's also humor and, in a very visceral sense, the audience participates every step of the way. Writer-director Frank Darabont's casting is meticulous. Hanks and Duncan, in particular, deliver extraordinary performances, along with James Cromwell, Michael Jeter, and Patricia Clarkson. Nothing is perfect - the bookending device used at the beginning and end is weak - but who cares? Perhaps the biggest advantage of making a great film like this is knowing what not to worry about. On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, The Green Mile is a compelling, powerful 10. Nothing can prepare you for the suspenseful grip this haunting story holds - and the chilling gamble that must be taken. An absolute masterpiece, it's one of the best movies of the year.

Susan Granger's review of "THE CIDER HOUSE RULES" (Miramax Films)
Adapted by John Irving from his own best-seller, this is the extraordinary story of one boy's journey into maturity in the 1940s. Homer Wells (Tobey Maguire) grew up in a sheltered existence at an orphange in St. Clouds, Maine, under the kindly, paternal care of
ether-addicted Dr. Larch (Michael Caine) who, each night, after reading a chapter from
Charles Dickens, bid the wistful, unwanted boys a poignant "Good night, you princes of
Maine, you kings of New England." As Larch's favorite, Homer learns a lot about
performing safe, if illegal, abortions but less about right and wrong. Which is why he decides to explore the outside world, hitching a ride with a young woman (Charlize Theron) and her fiancé (Paul Rudd), an Air Force pilot. Taking a job as an apple picker, he joins a black migrant worker crew, headed by Mr. Rose (Delroy Lindo) and his daughter (Erykah Badu). Director Lasse Hallstrom is sensitively and affectionately in tune with Irving's off-beat, idiosyncratic characters, eliciting substantial, Oscar-caliber performances as Homer copes with a crisis of conscience involving abortion, medical ethics and racial prejudice. Wide-eyed and impressionable, Tobey Maguire is delicately convincing, particularly as he's dazzled by luminous Charlize Theron. Michael Caine not only masters the elusive accent but captures the fierce intensity and enormously touching vulnerability of Larch. And edgy Delroy Lindo is tender yet terrifying, never hitting a false note. The fable-like quality is greatly enhanced by Oliver Stapleton's vivid, impressionistic photography. On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, The Cider House Rules is a haunting 10. Mixing quirky humor, menace, and pathos, it's an emotionally uplifting experience - one of the best pictures of the year.

Susan Granger's review of "THE NEXT BEST THING" (Paramount Pictures)
Madonna's fans will be lining up to see The Material Girl tackle this timely, thoughtful dramatic comedy, directed by John Schlesinger. What they don't realize is that America's first openly gay leading man, Rupert Everett, steals the show, just the way he did in My Best Friend's Wedding. Madonna and Everett play best friends. They're both bright, unconventional and impulsive - with lousy taste in choosing lovers. One evening, after a few too many drinks, they wind up in bed together - and, soon afterwards, she discovers she's pregnant. Eager for motherhood, she offers Everett a choice: he can either stay uninvolved, be the baby's "uncle," or assume the role of father. He opts for fatherhood, so they decide to live together and raise their son (Matthew Stumpf). Theirs may not be the perfect family - but it's the next best thing. Everett proves to be an ideal father, putting the child's interests first and foremost, refusing to develop other attachments in his life. Their good-natured, non-traditional arrangement works superbly for several years - until Madonna meets the man of her dreams (Benjamin Bratt) and ends up in a nasty fight for custody of the boy. That's when Thomas Ropelewski's character-driven script gets serious. Keep in mind, this is not a controversy about homosexuality. It's about significant human emotions, ties that bind, and commitment. Unfortunately, Bratt's underdeveloped role is less sympathetic, particularly since the audience has formed a compelling attachment to Everett, making the courtroom scenes anticlimactic. And don't miss Madonna's rendition of Don McLean's American Pie over the final credits. On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, The Next Best Thing is a thoroughly enjoyable, enigmatic 8 - asking: What is a father? What is a family?

Susan Granger's review of "REINDEER GAMES" (Dimension Films/Miramax)
Ehren Kruger's screenplay must have read better on paper because the film, directed by John Frankenheimer, lies like a bleak lump of coal in a Christmas stocking. Ben Affleck plays a convicted car thief whose cellmate (James Frain) in a cold Michigan prison has a gorgeous penpal girlfriend, Charlize Theron, whom he met through a lonely hearts magazine. When the cellmate dies in a food fight, Affleck assumes his identity, getting the sexy girlfriend but also her psychotic older brother (Gary Sinese), a small time crook who wants his help in taking down the Tomahawk Casino on Christmas Eve. His bizarre scheme includes having his grungy gang dressing up like Santa Claus with the "ho, ho, ho" becoming a heist. From the beginning, wholesome Ben Affleck, who always seems to look like an aging frat boy, is miscast in this cartoonish saga of betrayal, particularly as when openly yearns for a cup of cocoa and slice of pecan pie. Beautiful Charlize Theron has enough charisma for both of them, along with an ability to convince men to believe anything she says, particularly when she flashes her bare breasts. And no one can do a buffed, tattooed, over-the-top nutcake like Gary Sinese. But the dim-witted plot consists of a fast-paced series of intricate double-crosses that stretch from the barely plausible to the patently ridiculous. And the absurd ending, literally, had people laughing in disbelief. Fortunately, Ehren Kruger has Arlington Road and Scream 3 under his belt and John Frankenheimer will be best remembered for Seven Days in May and The Manchurian Candidate. On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, Reindeer Games is an icy, idiotic, illogical 3. My advice: don't play. Christmas has come and gone - just as this movie will.

Susan Granger's review of "WONDER BOYS" (Paramount Pictures):
The pressure's on Curtis Hanson directing his first picture after the highly acclaimed L.A. Confidential. Adapted by Steve Kloves from Michael Chabon's 1995 novel, the theme here revolves around a middle-aged author who is creatively paralyzed after having published a successful novel seven years ago. Although it is not explained in the movie, a 'wonder boy' is someone who has experienced great success early in life and then has to face the fear and insecurity of living up to himself. Michael Douglas plays the cynical, dissolute college professor who cannot finish the manuscript for his next book - which now numbers more than 2,500 single-spaced typewritten pages - as he spends a picaresque "Wordfest" weekend frantically juggling his newly pregnant mistress, a suicidal student, his visiting editor, the corpse of a dead dog, and a fur-trimmed jacket that once belonged to Marilyn Monroe. Frances McDormand is his romantic interest; she's the college chancellor who's married to the head of the English department. Tobey Maguire is a gifted but deeply troubled writing student who catches the eye of Robert Downey, as Douglas's flamboyant editor from New York. Katie Holmes is a seductive young student with a crush on Douglas, and Rip Torn is successful, self-satisfied pop-culture writer. Set in wintry western Pennsylvania - superbly photographed by Dante Spinotti - it's a screwball, character-driven story whose eclectic inhabitants are wacky, weird and whimsical. And the memorable soundtrack includes Bob Dylan's new song, "Things Have Changed." On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, Wonder Boys is a sly, darkly humorous 7 - aimed at an intelligent, sophisticated audience.

Susan Granger's review of "THE WHOLE NINE YARDS" (Warner Bros.)
Bruce Willis teams up with Friends Matthew Perry in this formulaic mobster comedy. Willis plays a cool professional hitman who moves incognito into an upscale Montreal suburb, while Perry is his nerdy neighbor, a dentist, who immediately recognizes him as Jimmy "The Tulip" Tudeski, who squealed on his former employers, the Gogolak crime family of Chicago. "It's not important that I've killed 17 people," Willis tells the incredulous Perry. "What's important is how I get along with the people that are still alive." Soon, the disparate men find they share a common bond: someone's trying to kill them both. Perry's shrewish wife, vamped with an outrageous French accent by Rosanna Arquette, complains that her husband is "the only dentist who can't make money!" She not only wants to kill him so she can collect on his life insurance but she also wants to nab the reward for nailing The Tulip. Enormous Michael Clarke Duncan (The Green Mile) ostensibly works as an enforcer for Janni Gogolak (Kevin Pollak), while Amanda Peet is sweetly sympathetic and remarkably helpful as Perry's dental assistant who has a secret yearning to be a contract killer. Plus there's Natasha Henstridge, as Willis' cold, calculating ex-wife, who inexplicably finds the bumbling Perry sexually irresistible. Writer Mitchell Kapner repeatedly capitalizes on a running joke about the Canadian habit of putting mayo on a hamburger, and director Jonathan Lynn does his best to keep the zany, bizarre action moving quickly. On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, The Whole Nine Yards is a ludicrous, lame, farcical 4. Problem is: these are amiable but crude, essentially superficial caricatures, not three-dimensional characters, like Billy Crystal and Robert DeNiro in the mob comedy Analyze This.

Susan Granger's review of "SWEET AND LOWDOWN" (Sony Classics)
Vintage jazz aficionados will appreciate Woody Allen's fanciful mock documentary about a legendary musician of the 1930s, allegedly the second-best jazz guitarist in the world. This totally fictional character, named Emmet Ray and embodied by Sean Penn, is a jaunty, self-absorbed egotist who justifies his aloof, amoral behavior by explaining that he's an "artist." Ray lives in awe of his idol, Django Reinhardt, the son of gypsies who lives and plays in France, and brashly admits that loves his guitar more than any woman who ever shared his bed. There are two memorable women with whom the itinerant Ray becomes involved. First, he lives with the long-suffering, worshipful Hattie (superbly played by British actress Samantha Morton), a mute laundress whom he picks up on the Boardwalk on the Jersey shore. Then, he impetuously marries the beautiful, bitchy Blanche (Uma Thurman), a socialite writer searching for inspiration. Anthony LaPaglia, Gretchen Mol, and John Waters contribute supporting roles, and famed Chinese cinematographer Zhao Fei (Raise the Red Lantern) makes a memorable American film debut. The sensational soundtrack includes I'm Forever Blowing Bubbles, Limehouse Blues, It Don't Mean a Thing, Sweet Sue, All of Me, and I'll See You in My Dreams, tastefully arranged by pianist Dick Hyman - but, curiously, not the title song, written by George and Ira Gershwin for the 1925 musical Tip-Toes. There are more than a dozen guitar solos by the real-life Django Reinhardt, lifted from his old recordings, while musician Howard Alden supplies the notes for Sean Penn's realistic guitar strumming. On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, Sweet and Lowdown is a genial, light-hearted, rhythm-filled 8, whimsically proving that art imitates life.

Susan Granger's review of "TUMBLEWEEDS" (Fine Line Films)
Why see Tumbleweeds? One very compelling reason: Janet McTeer, who's been dubbed "the next Meryl Streep." The plot, involving a flighty, narcissistic mother and profane, outspoken adolescent daughter who hop in a car and head for a new life in California, sounds like Anywhere But Here, but this affable, low-budget comedy is far more focused, character-driven, and less artificial than the Susan Sarandon/Natalie Portman star vehicle in which the supporting players seemed like cardboard cut-outs. Besides, there's Janet McTeer, a remarkable, highly respected British actress who won Broadway's Tony several years ago as Nora in a revival of Ibsen's A Doll's House. The Amazonian McTeer plays a working class woman from North Carolina who drags her smart-aleck teenage daughter (Kimberly J. Brown) through her many abusive, failed relationships, finally trying to settle down in Starlight Beach, a quiet seaside town near San Diego, and find happiness with a long-haul trucker (Gavin O'Connor) who's contemptuously referred to as "the future ex-husband." There have been four previous ex-husbands. Directed and co-written by Gavin O'Connor, the story is loosely based on the relationship between screenwriter Angela Shelton (O'Connor's ex-wife) and her own strong-willed, free-spirited mother. And the tone of the film is curiously reminiscent of Martin Scorsese's Alice Doesn't Live Here Anymore. Twitchy supporting actor Michael J. Pollard makes a brief but memorable appearance, looking not much older than he did in Bonnie and Clyde, back in 1967. On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, Tumbleweeds is a rueful but significant 7, because of Janet McTeer's complex, funny, multi-faceted performance which includes an impeccable Southern accent.

Susan Granger's review of "MAGNOLIA" (New Line Cinema)
As a follow-up to the porn movie scene of Boogie Nights, writer/director Paul Thomas Anderson examines the emotional effects of physical and spiritual cancer in this manic, rambling tale of dying fathers and their pathetic children in the rootless '90s. In what is basically an ensemble movie, set in a single, very long day in California's San Fernando Valley and not unlike Robert Altman's Short Cuts, Jason Robards provides the connective tissue as an irascible television producer with terminal cancer and a grieving, guilt-stricken trophy wife (Julianne Moore). He begs his male nurse (Philip Seymour Hoffman) to find his long-lost son so he can make amends. Played with fervor by Tom Cruise, the son's now a charismatic sex evangelist, motivational guru and host of a TV info-mercial, teaching "Seduce and Destroy." Strutting and swaggering, he goads his male audience into sexual exploits. In a somewhat parallel story, Philip Baker Hall, the guilty host of a popular TV show, called "What Do Kids Know?" and married to Melinda Dillon, is also ailing, as his estranged, coke-snorting daughter (Melora Walters) becomes involved with a good-natured cop (John C. Reilly). One of the current Quiz contestants (Jeremy Blackman) is desperate for attention, while a former Quiz Kid (William H. Macy) watches his life disintegrate in a bar. Three hours, ten minutes is a long time to keep an audience involved in 10 characters, connected by chance and coincidence, even with Robert Elswit's inventive cinematography and Aimee Mann's "Wise Up" song interwoven into the fabric of the convoluted, overly talky narrative. On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, Magnolia is a cacophonous, kinetic, audacious 7 with a bizarre, illogical, climactic conclusion related to the Bible, Exodus 8:2.

Susan Granger's review of "THE TALENTED MR. RIPLEY" (Paramount Pictures)
"I always thought it would be better to be a fake somebody than a real nobody," says Matt Damon as the chameleon-like Tom Ripley in Anthony Minghella's creepy, star-studded thriller adapted from Patricia Highsmith's novel. Tom Ripley's a leech, an amoral outsider, obsessed with the hedonistic la dolce vida of Dickie Greenleaf, a charming rogue, brilliantly played by Jude Law, whom he's sent to bring home from Italy: "You're the brother I never had. I'm the brother you never had." Frustrated, Ripley not only covets Dickie's privileged lifestyle, he wants to be Dickie, so much that his brutal killer instincts take over. Ripley's so diabolically clever, so adept at imitation and fabrication that he fools everyone except Dickie's girl-friend - that's Gwyneth Paltrow, a bland Grace Kelly clone, which is quite appropriate since the story's set in the '50s, when social distinction and class status meant everything to this detached group of people. Also involved in this spellbinding, sexually ambiguous, melodramatic intrigue are Philip Seymour Hoffman, as Dickie's snotty, suspicious friend, and Cate Blanchett, as a rebellious socialite who believes Tom's ruse. (I'm curious: what if Blanchett had exchanged roles with Paltrow?) After The English Patient, Anthony Minghella does not disappoint with this visual portrait of a pathological liar. John Seale's cinematography is stunning - from the shimmering waters of the Mediterranean to the twisting, cobbled alleys of Italy, particularly the eerie final shot in which a mirrored Ripley is reflected in a subtle myriad of distorted identities. Gabriel Yared's music, primarily period jazz, truly complements the story. On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, The Talented Mr. Ripley is a complex, provocative, potent 10. It's frightening yet fascinating.

Susan Granger's review of "DROWNING MONA" (Destination Films)
In this comedic whodunit, Bette Midler plays a despicable, foul-mouthed woman whom any number of people had both a desire and a motive to murder. So, when her yellow Yugo has a problem negotiating a curve and ends up plunging off a cliff into a lake near her hometown of Verplanck in New York's Hudson Valley, the chief of police (Danny DeVito) suspects foul play. Indeed, he discovers her brake lines were cut. But who is the culprit? Is it her long-suffering, battered husband (William Fichtner)? What about her belligerent, moronic, one-handed son (Marcus Thomas) or his handsome business partner (Casey Affleck), whom happens to be engaged to the police chief's daughter (Neve Campbell). Or could it be the town's most promiscuous waitress (Jamie Lee Curtis)? Other suspects include the local auto mechanic (Kathleen Wilhoite) who specializes in Yugos, a cop who scolded Mona for speeding (Peter Dobson), and a snoopy neighbor (Tracey Walter). Screenwriter Peter Steinfeld and director Nick Gomez shamelessly pilfer Alfred Hitchcock's The Trouble With Harry and Murder on the Orient Express, tossing in plot twists and nasty red herrings which tend to fall flat in the midst of the tasteless mess that should have been a wacky farce. Whodunit? Who cares? On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, Drowning Mona is a floundering 4. And Bette Midler played this type of odious oddball once before - remember Ruthless People?

Susan Granger's review of "GHOST DOG: THE WAY OF THE SAMURAI" (Artisan)
Writer/director/producer Jim Jarmusch re-imagines the gangster picture as a quirky cross-culture fusion of Eastern philosophy, hip-hop music, urban darkness, and movie iconography. He focuses on Ghost Dog (Forest Whitaker), an assassin who is obsessed by the noble precepts of the 18th century warrior text, Hagakure: The Book of the Samurai, applying them to his work as a contract killer. In the samurai tradition, Ghost Dog has pledged his loyalty to one master (John Tormey), a small-time New Jersey mobster who once saved his life, with whom he now communicates only by carrier pigeons. He's a loner whose only human contact is with a French-speaking ice-cream vendor (Isaach DeBankole) and a curious little girl (Camille Winbush) he meets in a park. The deliberately slow-paced, character-driven plot involves a great deal of brutal violence, stemming from vengeance, jealousy, and countless double-crosses, climaxing in a blood-drenched finale. Curiously, Ghost Dog doesn't speak a line of dialogue until 45 minutes into the film. The blasting musical soundtrack by Wu Tang Clan's RZA underscores both the hit-man's zen-like qualities and the lurking menace of his allegorical environment. Jarmusch says he built his characters from his experience living in New York's Little Italy, where he witnessed the death of an old Mafia order. In fact, he maintains, some of the actors came from that world: "They're gentlemen to me, but they've also killed people." On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, Ghost Dog: The Way of the Samurai is an offbeat, thought-provoking 6. While it's not a film to enjoy, it's one adventurous movie-goers may appreciate.

Susan Granger's review of "NORIEGA: GOD'S FAVORITE" (Showtime TV)
On Sunday night, April 2nd, at 8 p.m., Showtime premieres a made-for-television character study of the final years of Panamanian General Manuel "Tony" Noriega's reign. Bob Hoskins stars as the cunning and clever, yet desperate and dangerous dictator - and the resemblance is eerie. And Hoskins is talented enough to embody all the contradictions of Noriega's character, a man who believed in voodoo and claimed to be a Buddhist yet kept Hitler's picture next to a statue of the Virgin Mary, whose heroes included Moammar Kadafi and Mother Teresa, who tortured and killed people yet refused to eat meat because he opposed the slaughter of animals. Born out of wedlock, he was abandoned by his mother when he was just five, forced to fend for himself on the streets of Panama. Convinced that he was God's favorite and blessed with manic energy, Noriega not only survived but succeeded in acquiring more power than anyone else in his country. Scarred and pock-marked, he was an ugly strongman who suffered under the tyranny of beautiful women. Written by journalist Lawrence Wright and directed by Roger Spottiswoode, this is a speculative biography, since it deals with events no outsider ever witnessed, examining the complications under the volatile surface, bypassing the headlines and the stereotypes. Certainly Noriega is a despicable thug, yet he's wickedly intriguing, not unlike other Central American dictators who consider themselves victims of U.S. foreign policy. On the Granger Made-for-TV Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, Noriega is an enigmatic 8. And the real Noriega is still in prison outside Miami, serving a 40-year sentence for racketeering, conspiracy, and cocaine-smuggling. But he's up for parole this year and - with his government influence - who knows?

Susan Granger's review of "THE NINTH GATE" (Artisan)
Problem is: when Roman Polanski directs and Johnny Depp stars, you expect more than you get in this grim, third-rate horror mystery. Returning to his Rosemary's Baby roots, Roman Polanski helms this thriller, casting Johnny Depp as an unscrupulous antique book dealer who is hired by a wealthy New York publisher, Frank Langella, who has just acquired a rare 17th century Venetian text called The Nine Gates of the Kingdom of the Shadows. Langella is a demonologist who believes that this tome, along with another two, are manuals of satanic invocation. Legend has it that if the engravings in the books are assembled properly, Lucifer will be released from Hell. Depp's assignment is to locate the other two volumes in France and Portugal and to ascertain their authenticity. Interesting concept. Only what comes next makes little sense. Depp goes to Europe and develops what he terms a "growing obsession" with his mission. Predictably, there's a femme fatale, Lena Olin, along with Polanski's wife, Emmanuelle Seigneur, who serves as Depp's mysterious guardian. Based on the novel El Club Dumas by Arturo Perez-Reverte, it's been adapted for the screen by Enrique Urbizu, John Brownjohn, and the director who make the quest remarkably incoherent and quite lacking in suspense. Cinematographer Darius Khondji does remarkably sinister camera work, and production designer Dean Tavoularis creates a convincing replica of Manhattan since Polanski, who is considered a fugitive, could not film in the United States. Curiously, if you saw Eyes Wide Shut, you may find the secret sect of robed society people interested in the occult vaguely familiar. On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, The Ninth Gate is a blithering baroque 4. Scary? No. Silly? Yes.

Susan Granger's review of "THE CLOSER YOU GET" (Fox Searchlight)

After producer Umberto Pasolini made The Full Monty about four unemployed Englishmen, he turned his attention to Ireland, where five frustrated, Guinness-guzzling bachelors feel they're sorely in need of spicy female companionship. Every night, they meet at the pub and bemoan the lack of eligible women around. To that end, they place an ad in The Miami Herald, inviting any and every adventurous "fit and healthy" American woman to visit their remote, rustic fishing village on the west coast. Object: matrimony. It's an action that precipitates much consternation among the local Irish womenfolk. Of course, the romantic fantasy is a lot of blarney because you know exactly what's going to happen long before it does in William Ivory's whimsical script which is based on a story by Herbie Wave. Ian Hart, who played John Lennon in Backbeat and the detective in The End of the Affair, is the ring-leader, Kieran O'Donnagh, a butcher who doesn't seem to notice that his feisty female assistant Siobhan (Cathleen Bradley) secretly adores him. His sheep-farming brother Ian (Sean McGinley) also doesn't seem to notice that the right woman for him is pouring drinks just across the bar. And so it goes. Is this another Waking Ned Devine? No - but first-time film director Aileen Ritchie keeps it frothy, particularly when Bo Derek's 10 unspools at the church's movie night instead of The Ten Commandments. On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, The Closer You Get is an engaging, amusing 7, proving "the closer you get to something, the harder it is to see."

Susan Granger's review of "3 STRIKES" (MGM release)

Referring to California's controversial ordinance that requires a mandatory sentence of 25 years to life for anyone convicted of a third felony, the title tells it all - and this inept movie is definitely out. Written and directed by D.J. Pooh, the rap-record producer who co-wrote Friday (1995) with Ice Cube, it adds little to the urban comedy genre. Brian Hooks plays a hapless twice-jailed loser who has every intention of going straight when he's released from the Los Angeles County Jail. "I'm going to do whatever it takes not to go back," he vows. But when his pal, De'Aundre Bonds, picks him up in a stolen car, they smoke a little weed and get involved in freeway gunplay with the LAPD. He's innocent but his image is caught on videotape. Immediately, he finds he's once again on the lam - with no one willing to help him. So where does he hide? The Ritz Carlton Hotel, where else? Who would think to look for him there in the midst of a citywide manhunt? On the screen, just about everything goes wrong. The crude script is inane, the characters little more than racial stereotypes, the rude dialogue filled with clichés, and flatulence propels the toxic humor. Even the car chases are boring. N'Bushe Wright doesn't stand a chance as Hooks' remarkably tolerant girl-friend, and David Alan Grier is wasted as a trigger-happy detective on his trail. On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, 3 Strikes barely musters a 2. This is a truly dismal cinematic experience!

Susan Granger's review of "SUNSHINE" (Paramount Classics)
Hungarian director Istvan Szabos' epic, three-hour saga chronicles the rise and fall of three tumultuous generations of a troubled Hungarian Jewish family. Their name is Sonnenschein, which means sunshine in German; the title also refers to a delicious herbal tonic that the family brews. Ralph Fiennes plays three roles: the patriarch, Ignatz Sonnenschein, who marries his cousin and begins the process of assimilation by changing the family name to Sors; his son, Adam, who converts to Roman Catholicism, primarily to get into Budapest's best fencing club, and becomes an Anti-Semitic snob, slashing his way to Olympics victory; and Adam's son, cynical Ivan Sors, who joins the Communist secret police after W.W.II. The sweeping story by Israel Horovitz begins in 1840 and extends through the fall of Communism, encompassing more than 100 years - like Bertolucci's "1900" and Visconti's "Leopard." Its theme is how all governments - Monarchy, Fascism or Communism - are corrupt, and how the choices we make - for better or worse - determine our future. In a unique casting twist, Jennifer Ehle plays Valerie, the woman whom Ignatz loves, and, as she ages, Ms. Ehle's real-life mother, acclaimed actress Rosemary Harris, continues the same character about whom a grandson says, "She was the only one of us who had the gift of breathing freely." Recently, mother and daughter were both Best Actress Tony-Award competitors; Ms. Ehle won for "The Real Thing." On the Granger Movie Gauge of to 10, "Sunshine" is a thoughtful, ambitious, elegant 8 - but, because of its length, it's better suited as a three-part TV miniseries on an adult-oriented channel that could accommodate the graphic brutality of one torture scene in a concentration camp, along with the sexual content and nudity.

Susan Granger's "LOVE'S LABOUR'S LOST" (Miramax Films)
Having done "Henry V," "Hamlet" and "Much Ado About Nothing" on film, Kenneth Branagh, who comes from working-class background, continues his determination make Shakespeare more relevant to contemporary audiences. This time, he punctuates the Bard with '30s and '40s musical numbers. Set in Europe in 1939, just before the outbreak of W.W.II, the romantic comedy begins when the King of Navarre (Alessandro Nivola) and three companions (Kenneth Branagh, Matthew Lillard, Adrian Lester) swear to shun all distractions and study for three years. But no sooner have they made their monastic vows than the Princess of France (Alicia Silverstone) and three lovely ladies-in-waiting (Emily Mortimer, Carmen Ejogo, Natascha McElhorne) show up, and the four flirtatious couples pair off to songs from Cole Porter, Irving Berlin, Jerome Kern, George and Ira Gershwin. The fact that his cast has mediocre musical ability didn't deter Branagh's enthusiasm. "It wasn't our ambition to achieve the slickness and impossible perfection of Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers," he explains. "What we did want was abandonment to the enterprise, joy and commitment to the songs and dancing." Indeed, singing "Cheek to Cheek" mid-air, they float to the rafters of a library. Branagh wavers uncomfortably between the various styles of American musicals, attempting to combine the crisp, formal precision of Busby Berkeley's choreography with the more relaxed ambiance of Gene Kelly. Also, in his ambitious attempt to condense the narrative and combine the ensemble numbers, Branagh loses much of the comedy, except for Nathan Lane as the clown. On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, "Love's Labour's Lost" is a whimsical 7, putting a frothy, new spin on old Will.

Susan Granger's review of "BOYS AND GIRLS" (Miramax Films)
A romantic comedy is supposed to be fanciful and fun. This is neither. Nor is it sexy. Written by Andrew Lowery and Andrew Miller (who call themselves the Drews) and directed by Robert Iscove, as a date movie, it's so blatantly formulaic and generically predictable that it's tedium. After "She's All That" and "Down to You," Freddie Prinze Jr. could play this teenybopper idol role by rote - and he practically does. He's a sensitive stud who finds his soul-mate in Claire Forlani, who's obviously seen too many episodes of "Ally McBeal." They first met, years ago, when they were pre-teens, on an airplane and discovered that they were both children of divorce en route to their new homes. Since then, their paths have crossed occasionally but they both, coincidentally, wound up at University of California at Berkeley. The so-called "catch" is that they're not only commitment-phobic, very verbal best-friends but, temperamentally, opposites. He's logical and has his heart set on structural engineering; she's free-spirited, emotional and a Latin major. And if much of their commiserating about their respective lackluster love lives looks familiar, think "When Harry Met Sally..." which obviously served as inspiration. Then, one night, passion overcomes resistance, and - guess what? - he's more sexually strait-laced than she is. (The giddy teenage girls in the audience were giggling hysterically at this point.) The other actors, like Jason Biggs, Amanda Detmer and Heather Donahue, simply look bored, desperately wishing they were elsewhere. And who can blame them? On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, "Boys and Girls" is a lame, tepid 2. Guys, you gotta wait too long for those Victoria's Secret models to beckon your glazed eyes back to the screen.

Susan Granger's review of "ME, MYSELF AND IRENE" (20th Century-Fox)
This scatological comedy will score at the box-office since there's definitely an audience for the gross gags and toilet jokes but it's no "There's Something About Mary." Jim Carrey plays Charlie, a mild-mannered Rhode Island state trooper suffering from a split-personality disorder. Flashback 18 years to when his wife left him for the brainy, vertically-challenged limo driver (Tony Cox) who fathered their African-American triplets whom Carrey has raised as a proud, loving father. The boys become rowdy, jive-talking geniuses (Jerod Mixon, Anthony Anderson, Mongo Brownlee) but, having repressed his anger and resentment too long, Charlie's suddenly got company - a foul-mouthed, aggressive alter ego named Hank. And they've both fallen for Renee Zellweger, a feisty, quirky gal who's on-the-lam from shady EPA investigators (Chris Cooper, Richard Jenkins) in a pointless plot. In the Jekyll-Hyde transformation, "Rip Van Wussy" Carrey cavorts and contorts, much to the amazement of his sympathetic supervisor (Robert Forster) and a psychotic albino (Michael Bowman) who joins the road adventure. Directed and written by Bobby and Peter Farrelly, plus Michael Cerrone, unfortunately this romantic farce lacks the sweetness and outrageous fun of the Farrelly's earlier films. But they're still pushing the envelope of bad taste, including a redefinition of "hanky-panky" involving a rubber appliance, chicken-abuse, cow-shooting, reprising Woody Harrelson's milk-mustache from "Kingpin," and a unique marriage proposal. And the end credits are novel, citing each and every performer. On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, "Me, Myself and Irene" is a crass, raunchy 4. Like Charlie, this movie is origami - it folds under pressure.

Susan Granger's review of "FANTASIA 2000" (Disney)
The Sorcerer's Apprentice's spell still works. The Disney company's crown jewel sparkles again. Shown for four months at 76 IMAX theaters in the United States, Latin America, Canada, and Asia, it's now available on 35 mm in local theaters. When Walt Disney released his bold, animated concert film back in 1940, he envisioned an annual updating but, for 60 years, that hasn't happened. Now, using traditional animation and computer-generated effects, there are seven new segments, along with the original Mickey Mouse Sorcerer's Apprentice, and the music is by the Chicago Symphony conducted by James Levine. Each chapter is introduced by celebrities: Bette Midler, Steve Martin, Itzhak Perlman, Quincy Jones, James Earl Jones, Angela Lansbury, Penn & Teller. The first features abstract butterflies dancing to Ludwig Van Beethoven's "Symphony No. 5." Another, set to Ottorino Respighi's "Pines of Rome," follows a baby whale trapped inside an iceberg, separated from its mother and the rest of the pod. There's a 1930s New York City tribute to the caricatures of Al Hirshfeld, complete with NINA, his daughter's name, hidden in the drawings, set to George Gershwin's "Rhapsody in Blue." Daisy and Donald Duck march into Noah's Ark to Sir Edward Elgar's "Pomp and Circumstance." Hans Christian Andersen's "The Steadfast Tin Soldier" moves to Dmitri Shostakovich's "Second Piano Concerto," as a one-legged soldier rescues a ballerina from an evil Jack-in-the-box. Camille Saint-Saens's "Carnival of the Animals" pairs a rebellious pink flamingo with a yo-yo. And the finale is a mythical ode to the cycle of life moving to Igor Stravinsky's "Firebird Suite." On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, "Fantasia 2000" is a splashy, swirling 8. It's a joyous celebration of the art of animation

Susan Granger's review of "CHICKEN RUN" (DreamWorks)
What a clever concept! Do you remember "The Great Escape" with Steve McQueen? It's a W.W.II adventure in which Allied POW's devise a way out of a Nazi prison camp. Now a similar idea has become an imaginative claymation comedy, the first full-length feature from British-based Aardman animation, the Oscar-winning team behind the popular Wallace & Gromit shorts.
"Chicken Run" follows a group of rebellious chickens imprisoned at Tweedy's Egg Farm who are determined to break out before they meet "fowl" play and end up as pot pies. Trapped behind barbed wire and yearning for freedom, the feisty hen Ginger and her cohorts are terrorized by menacing, hard-boiled Mrs. Tweedy, who firmly believes, "Chickens are the most stupid creatures on the planet. They don't plot; they don't scheme; they don't organize." Until - one day - Rocky the Rooster, a brash, American "lone free ranger," lands in the Yorkshire chicken coop. He's on the lam from a circus and, if they agree to hide him, he promises to teach the entire flock to fly, despite the obvious aerodynamic deficiencies inherent in the plump chicken anatomy. "That Yank's not to be trusted" warns the old R.A.F. rooster named Fowler. Eventually, the scrambling hens hatch an exciting, if desperate, alternative scheme - with a little help from two profiteering rats. Mel Gibson, Julia Sawalha, Miranda Richardson and Jane Horrocks head the voice cast and, instead of computer-generated images, the visual effects are created by stop-motion animation using clay and silicon models, set in a stylized universe. Aardman calls it "live action in miniature." On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, "Chicken Run" is a bright, sunny-side up 9. Good gravy! It's a double-yolk'd chicken delight for the whole family!

Susan Granger's review of "OUT OF TIME" (Showtime TV)
I'm usually impressed by Showtime's made-for-television movies but this family-oriented updating of the Rip Van Winkle legend is just dull. The story begins in 1980 in the tiny town of Suttersville, Oregon, where Jack Epson (James McDaniel) is married to Annie (Mel Harris) and they have a ten year-old daughter (Brittany Moldowan). Jack's a dreamer, a romantic who is lured into the woods by magical spirit guides who have been monitoring the uneasy balance between nature and development for 250 years. As a political activist and deeply caring man, Jack's been chosen to be their mortal spokesman to save Suttersville from itself. The spirit guides entice him to drink from a mysterious spring so he sleeps for 20 years. When he awakens, he returns to the disturbing, high-tech world of 2000. His family believes he deserted them, and his daughter (Karen H. Holness) has a ten year-old of her own now; it's this boy (Neil Denis) who helps Jack understand not only what's befallen him but what he must do to prove his worth. The villain is a real-estate developer (John Novak) who is secretly planning to build a condominium complex on a pristine mountain. Co-written and directed by Ernest Thompson ("On Golden Pond"), it's filled with stilted, flowery platitudes and sappy, contrived emotions. In a peculiar nod to political correctness, Jack and Annie are a mixed-racial couple, as are the grown daughter and her beau, yet this fact is never acknowledged, as if it presented no conflict to anyone in rural America in 1980 nor in the present. On the Granger Made-for-TV Movie Gauge, "Out of Time" is a slow-paced, forgettable 4 with an admirable, if heavy-handed, environmentalist message about the questionable advances of progress.