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Susan Granger's review of "REMEMBER THE TITANS" (Walt Disney Pictures)
Back in 1971, when high school football was everything to the residents of Alexandria, Virginia, local officials were forced to integrate the schools and hire a black man, Herman Boone, as head coach of the T.C. Williams Titans. First, he and the older, beloved white coach with more seniority, Bill Yoast, had to learn to work together. Then they were faced with molding a group of rebellious teenage boys into a winning team while teaching them valuable lessons about becoming men. Their respect, friendship and determination healed a town torn by fear, ignorance and prejudice. Based on a true story, scripted by Gregory Allen Howard, first-time director Boaz Yakin propels the gradual process of discovery and bonding among the participants. A highlight is the pre-dawn cross-country run, culminating at the Gettysburg Battlefield, where Boone notes: "50,000 men died on this same field fighting the same battle we are still fighting today...If we don't come together on this hallowed ground, we too will be destroyed." Denzel Washington radiates intensity as the tough-yet-fair taskmaster Boone, who divides his enraged players into color-blind squads, offense and defense, at training camp, saying, "football is about controlling that anger, harnessing that aggression to achieve perfection," reminding them how, in mythology, the titans were greater than the gods. Bill Patton strikes a different note as the gentle, quiet, taciturn Yoast with his precocious, outspoken, football-obsessed daughter (Hayden Panettiere) who provides comic relief. What distinguishes this film is its honesty, a credit to the young ensemble actor/players. On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, "Remember the Titans" is an inspirational 8, an emotionally-uplifting testament to the power of the human spirit.

Susan Granger's review of "BEST IN SHOW" (Warner Bros./Castle Rock Entertainment)
There's something about dog shows that's terribly amusing. I know those who show off their purebreds take them very, very seriously, but for onlookers, like Christopher Guest, the possibilities for comedy are endless. In fact, sanity goes to the dogs where Best of Breed trophies are concerned. This wacky mockumentary, a worthy successor to "Waiting for Guffman," centers on Philadelphia's annual Mayflower Dog Show, similar to New York's Westminster Dog Show. Diverse contenders include, from Illinois, a bickering, neurotic yuppie couple (Parker Posey, Michael Hitchcock) with Beatrice, their depressed Weimaraner; from Florida, a milquetoast menswear salesman (Eugene Levy) with, literally, two left feet and bubbly, his promiscuous wife (Catherine O'Hara), showing Winky, their Norwich Terrier; from North Carolina, a fly-fishing shop owner (Christopher Guest) with his beloved Bloodhound Hubert; from New York, a flamboyantly gay couple (John Michael Higgins, Michael McKean) with Miss Agnes, one of their Shih Tzus; and from the Main Line, a trashy trophy wife (Jennifer Coolidge) and her hired handler (Jane Lynch) with their two-time champion Standard Poodle, Rhapsody in White. Plus there's the show's President (Bob Balaban), chairman (Don Lake), and mis-matched commentators (Jim Piddock, Fred Willard), along with a long-suffering hotel manager (Ed Begley Jr.) Guest and his co-scripter Eugene Levy obviously encouraged their ensemble cast into improvisational riffs that are executed with somewhat predictable but barkingly loony, fast-paced finesse, particularly the one-liners and non-sequiturs. On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, "Best in Show" is a dementedly funny 9. It's a hilarious howl - a walloping woof!

Susan Granger's review of "BAIT" (Warner Bros.)
Motor-mouthed comedian Jamie Foxx's thriller-comedy may be called "Bait" but never it grabs the hook. Foxx plays a good-natured, small-time thief on parole who, as the story begins, is caught stealing prawns from a Brooklyn restaurant with his brother (Mike Epps). What the hapless brothers don't realize is that, across town, two professional criminals are lifting $42 million in gold bars from the Federal Reserve. But Foxx finds himself sharing a jail cell on Rikers Island with one of the pros (Robert Pastorelli), who has buried the loot in a secret location and then suddenly dies of a heart attack. Thinking he can use Foxx as "bait" to track down the other pro (Doug Hutchinson), a computer wizard who masterminded the "heist of the decade," a ruthless treasury investigator (David Morse) has a tiny, satellite-controlled radio device that continually broadcasts his location secretly implanted in Foxx's jaw. Knowing that the high-tech hacker can get into their computers, the agent sends internal Treasury e-mails implying that Foxx is actually an undercover agent who has discovered the whereabouts of the stolen gold. The ploy succeeds but soon the petty criminal finds he, his girl-friend (Kimberley Elise) and their baby son are in danger. Three writers - Tony Gilroy, Andrew and Adam Scheinman - and director Antoine Fuqua ("The Replacement Killers") make the fragmented plot almost incomprehensible. The only thing that's made abundantly clear is the difference between shrimp and prawns, and that Hutchinson is trying to imitate John Malkovich. Plus, the galloping finale at the racetrack is simply ludicrous. On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, "Bait" is a dismal 3. The hip-hop soundtrack rocks, but Jamie Foxx needs far better material if he wants to be a major movie star.

Susan Granger's review of "WOMAN ON TOP" (Fox Searchlight Pictures)
Spanish star Penelope Cruz is as intoxicating as Brazilian bossa-nova rhythms in Fina Torres's wannabe "Like Water for Chocolate" that also uses cooking as a metaphor for passionate romance. As Isabella, she's both cursed and blessed. She's cursed with severe motion sickness that forces her to be "in control" of her movement - driving, dancing and being on top when she makes love. Yet she's blessed with culinary genius, working as chef in a small seaside restaurant owned by her mucho-macho musician husband, Toninho (Murilo Benicio). But when she catches him in bed with another woman, she flees Bahia, seeking solace with her childhood friend, a transvestite (Harold Perrineau, Jr.) in San Francisco, where she's "discovered" by a TV producer (Mark Feuerstein) and becomes the sultry star of a local cooking show. Meanwhile, despondent Toninho is determined to win her back. So much for story. It's charismatic Penelope Cruz that fascinates. Curiously, she's not a traditional beauty; her thin nose is far too long. But she's stunning, radiant and utterly compelling, particularly when she sways to Luis Bacalov's Latino score. On the other hand, Vera Blasi's flimsy plot goes beyond disbelief, needing far too much voice-over narration. And Fina Torres' clumsy attempt at magical realism cannot compare with Alfonso Arau ("Like Water For Chocolate"), even with Thierry Arbogast's caressing cinematography. Aside from Murilo Benicio's realization that, without his wife, his life is barren, there is no character development. Harold Perrineau Jr. serves as comic relief, and Mark Feuerstein's fumbling ineptitude grows cloying quickly. On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, "Woman on Top" is a frothy, sensuous 6, as ephemeral and enchanting as the aromas that waft from Isabella's cuisine.

Susan Granger's review of "UNDER SUSPICION" (Lions Gate Films)
Powerhouse performances propel this tense, gripping psychological thriller set amidst the carnivalesque festival of San Sebastian in Puerto Rico. Morgan Freeman plays a local police chief who summons a prominent tax attorney - that's Gene Hackman - to his office for an interrogation prior to a gala fund-raising party that the attorney is hosting at a posh hotel across the street. There have been a series of grisly murders of young girls in the precinct and, for reasons that later become clear, Freeman suspects that Hackman is involved in the sordid scandal. But why Hackman, who lives in a magnificent villa with a sultry trophy-wife (Monica Bellucci) whom he describes as "a beautiful woman who moves through life unchallenged"? Yet, as Hackman nervously flicks his fancy cigarette lighter, there's something suspicious about him, as a cocky young detective (Thomas Jane) repeatedly points out. And the ultra-courteous Freeman, who would like to be the next superintendent, cleverly reads the desperation in Hackman's body language, maintaining that he's only trying to clarify some details. Adapted by screenwriters Peter Iliff and Tom Provost from Claude Miller's French cult classic, "Garde a Vue" ("The Inquisitor"), and directed by Stephen Hopkins ("Lost in Space," "The Ghost and the Darkness"), the character-driven crime-mystery unfolds, revealing how both men have painful pasts filled with secrets and lies. "You peel my onion down to the nub," admits Hackman. But the tedious repetition of the cross-questioning and the too-frequent flashbacks detract from the narrative, diluting its impact as the plot takes a dangerous, tortured twist. On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, "Under Suspicion" is a disturbing 6, as deceptive as the costumes of the San Sebastian street carnival.

Susan Granger's review of "DUETS" (Hollywood Pictures/Disney)
For Oscar-winner Gwyneth Paltrow, making this dark comedy was obviously a labor of love since it's directed by her real-life father, Bruce Paltrow (creator of TV's "St. Elsewhere," "The White Shadow"), who was stricken with throat cancer. Shooting began in Vancouver only three weeks after he completed radiation therapy. The story revolves around six unhappy characters hoping to win $5,000 in a karaoke competition in Omaha, Nebraska. Huey Lewis plays a karaoke hustler who meets his long-lost daughter, a third-generation Las Vegas showgirl - that's the too-thin, too flat-chested-to-be-believable as an innocent showgirl Gwyneth, when they're introduced by her grandmother (Angie Dickinson in a cameo) at her mother's wake. Paul Giamatti's a meek, mild-mannered salesman, obsessed with redeeming his frequent flyer miles, who picks up a hitchhiking escaped convict, Andre Braugher. And Maria Bello, as a scheming waitress/wannabe rock star, promises sexual favors to a Cincinnati taxi driver, Scott Speedman. They're all maudlin misfits who like to sing but, for the most part, their renditions make you cringe. Gwyneth's not bad warbling "Bette Davis Eyes," but she's not good either. Written by John Byrum, this manipulative, ill-fated project has gone through several incarnations, beginning originally as a starring vehicle for Gwyneth Paltrow and her then-fiancé Brad Pitt. After they split up, it was revised and, in an unprecedented move, because of its violent content, Disney shopped "Duets" around to other studios; eventually, studio executives decided to re-cut it, editing the objectionable scenes. On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, "Duets" is a disappointing, discordant 4. This rambling, raucous road trip-to- redemption saga strikes a distinctly sour note.

Susan Granger's review of "THE WATCHER" (Universal)
Just what we need: another lurid, trashy serial killer saga. This time, Keanu Reeves plays an elusive homicidal maniac who engages in a gruesome ticking-clock cat-and-mouse game with James Spader, a burnt-out FBI agent who has suffered a traumatic nervous breakdown after too many years on the job with the LAPD. To taunt Spader, who has relocated to Chicago, Reeves packs up his trusty piano wire and moves too. Before long, he starts mailing photographs of the lonely, unsuspecting young women who are his intended Windy City victims, challenging Spader, along with the Chicago Police Department, to stop him within 24 hours before he strikes again. In the midst of this murderous frenzy, there's Spader's psychologist, played by Marisa Tomei, who is even less convincing as a medical professional than Jennifer Lopez in "The Cell." Writers David Elliot, Clay Ayers and Darcy Meyers, along with first-time director Joe Charbanic (helmer of music videos for Reeves' band Dogstar), dwell on the warped thrill of the methodology and the chase, revealing, early on, exactly whodunit since the killer says he and the cop "need each other to give meaning to our lives." Plus, as Reeves explains, "We're all stacked right on top of each other, but we don't notice each other any more." After that, it's all sound effects and tricky camera-work, along with a muddled, discordant soundtrack. James Spader's acting technique can be described as 'wooden deadpan' while Keanu Reeves maintains his perpetually monotone 'dude' persona which sometimes works, sometimes doesn't. Chris Ellis, as Spader's self-important colleague, is the only cast member who manages to be convincing. On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, "The Watcher" is an appallingly awful, amateurish 2. The real torture is watching it.

Susan Granger's review of "THE WAY OF THE GUN" (Artisan Entertainment)
Screenwriter Christopher McQuarrie, who won an Oscar for "The Usual Suspects," makes an auspicious directorial debut with this crime thriller about two small-time crooks who call themselves Parker (Ryan Phillippe) and Longbaugh (Benicio Del Toro), the real surnames of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. They're raising capital by selling their sperm in L.A. when they overhear a conversation about Robin (Juliette Lewis) who has been hired for $1 million by a wealthy couple to be a surrogate mother. Immediately, they concoct a kidnapping/ransom scheme. But when they unconventionally abduct the waddling, very-pregnant Robin from her obstetrician's office, despite the presence of her bodyguards (Taye Diggs, Nicky Katt), and hide her in a hotel in Mexico, complications begin, and she gives birth in the midst of a gunfight. What the inept, sociopathic thugs don't know is that the biological father (Scott Wilson) of the newborn boy, the man they're shaking down for $15 million, launders money for organized crime and that he's hired a mob-connected "fixer" (James Caan) to take care of the situation. (Curiously, the "fixer" has an assistant who in real-life is Geoffrey Lewis, Juliette Lewis's father). One of the menacing Caan's better lines is "I can promise you a day of reckoning that you will not live long enough to never forget." As you might expect from a Christopher McQuarrie script, the confusing plot twists and turns, tricky double-cross following tricky double-cross, within back-stabbing sub-plots, and nothing is ever exactly what you expect it to be except, perhaps, the shoot-'em'up finale. On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, "The Way of the Gun" scores a slow-paced but grimly stylish, snarling 4, profane and violent from start to finish - with not one likable character.

Susan Granger's review of "THE WATCHER" (Universal)
Just what we need: another lurid, trashy serial killer saga. This time, Keanu Reeves plays an elusive homicidal maniac who engages in a gruesome ticking-clock cat-and-mouse game with James Spader, a burnt-out FBI agent who has suffered a traumatic nervous breakdown after too many years on the job with the LAPD. To taunt Spader, who has relocated to Chicago, Reeves packs up his trusty piano wire and moves too. Before long, he starts mailing photographs of the lonely, unsuspecting young women who are his intended Windy City victims, challenging Spader, along with the Chicago Police Department, to stop him within 24 hours before he strikes again. In the midst of this murderous frenzy, there's Spader's psychologist, played by Marisa Tomei, who is even less convincing as a medical professional than Jennifer Lopez in "The Cell." Writers David Elliot, Clay Ayers and Darcy Meyers, along with first-time director Joe Charbanic (helmer of music videos for Reeves' band Dogstar), dwell on the warped thrill of the methodology and the chase, revealing, early on, exactly whodunit since the killer says he and the cop "need each other to give meaning to our lives." Plus, as Reeves explains, "We're all stacked right on top of each other, but we don't notice each other any more." After that, it's all sound effects and tricky camera-work, along with a muddled, discordant soundtrack. James Spader's acting technique can be described as 'wooden deadpan' while Keanu Reeves maintains his perpetually monotone 'dude' persona which sometimes works, sometimes doesn't. Chris Ellis, as Spader's self-important colleague, is the only cast member who manages to be convincing. On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, "The Watcher" is an appallingly awful, amateurish 2. The real torture is watching it.

Susan Granger's review of "NURSE BETTY" (USA Films)
Irresistible Renee Zellweger stars in this darkly comedic romantic fable as Betty Sizemore, a soap-opera obsessed Kansas housewife caught between fantasy and reality. She's a plucky, small-town waitress whose philandering, abusive husband is brutally scalped and shot in their dining-room by two professional hitmen when a shady drug deal goes sour. Cowering in an adjoining den, she's emotionally traumatized by witnessing the violence. Her reaction is to enter a fugue state, defined by the American Psychiatric Assoc. as "a combination of amnesia and physical fright," impelling the individual to flee from customary surroundings, assuming a new identity. So, in her delusion, she becomes Nurse Betty, a character on "A Reason to Love," who adores Dr. David Ravell whom she jilted six years ago. Determined to right this wrong, she takes off for Los Angeles, not knowing that the hitmen's drugs are stashed in her Buick. Inspired by "Being There," "Purple Rose of Cairo" and "Pulp Fiction," the clever, twist-filled script by John C. Richards & James Flamberg should cop an Oscar nomination, and Neil LaBute's farcical direction contrasts with the bitter bleakness of "Your Friends & Neighbors" and "In the Company of Men." Renee Zellweger exudes enough wacky, guileless, sweet innocence to emerge as a beguiling Oscar contender, yet it's Morgan Freeman who astonishes as the elder, courtly hitman who does a dream dance sequence on the edge of the Grand Canyon at night. Chris Rock is hilarious as his acerbic, hard-headed, excitable protégé with Greg Kinnear, Aaron Eckhart and Allison Janney delivering shimmering supporting gems. On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, "Nurse Betty" is a weird, deliriously funny 8, a crazed, playful, defiantly twisted collision of alternate realities.

Susan Granger's review of "HIGHLANDER: ENDGAME" (Dimension Films)
This is the fourth segment, the first in five years, and the final episode of the series. If you're not a die-hard fan, you need to know some background. The Highlander is an immortal, born centuries ago in the Scotland. He and the other immortals who walk the earth, calling themselves "the seed of legend," can be killed only when beheaded, which usually occurs in a sword-fight with another immortal. The victor in such a duel gets the "quickening," absorbing the strength and experience of the defeated amid bolts of lightning. Morose Christopher Lambert stars, once again, as Connor MacLeod with Adrian Paul as his protégé, Duncan MacLeod, who - this time - go after Jacob Kell (Bruce Payson), an evil, diabolical, power-hungry immortal who has gone renegade. Kell's after Connor because, centuries ago, Connor killed his father, which is understandable since Kell burned Connor's mother at the stake. Make no mistake, this is a gruesome group and the recitation of their history is often contradictory. Plus, Duncan's got this girl-friend (Lisa Barbuscia). Anyway, both MacLeods are determined that Kell will not be the last immortal - "In the end, there can be only one." Problem is: it's disjointed and tiresome. Even the choreography of the sword-fights is clunky and choppy. Blame that on first-time director Douglas Aarniokoski. The gimmick is that Lambert, who's starred in the "Highlander" films, is now teamed with Paul, star of the syndicated TV series (1992-98). The two, supposedly born 70 years apart in the 16th century, have appeared together only in the first episode of the TV series. On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, "Highlander: Endgame" is a dreadful, time-traveling, almost incomprehensible 2. As they say: "That's one blessing of immortality - there's always tomorrow."

Susan Granger's review of "WHIPPED" (Destination Films)
Luscious Amanda Peet deserves better than this wretched sex comedy. She's built up a loyal following from TV's "Jack and Jill" and made a charming appearance in "The Whole Nine Yards," but this is a disaster. Written, produced and directed by Peter M. Cohen, the story revolves around three, single twenty somethings who gather each Sunday morning for breakfast in a Manhattan diner, along with a fourth buddy who is married, to brag and exchange graphic tales of their erotic Saturday night conquests. They're self-proclaimed experts in "scamming" which involves scoring a date and having sex with a woman. Brian Van Holt plays the Wall Street guy, the slickest of the trio; his trick is to approach women and pretend to be their friend's brother. The friend is always named Jen because, as he reasons, "they all have a friend name Jen." There's Zorie Barber, a shallow pseudo-hippie, East Village screenwriter type; pathetically eager Jonathan Abrahams, who's supposed to be sensitive; and Judah Domke, who gets vicarious thrills and whose exploits with a juicer and an egg beater are minor league. However, the group's womanizing camaraderie is challenged when they meet an enigmatic, uninhibited sexpot - that' s Peet - and she begins to date all three - at the same time. It seems she's scamming them, waiting until the second date to have sex and then vowing to each that he, and he alone, is the one she truly loves. The less said the better about the grotesque scene in which Peet's vibrator is dropped into an unflushed toilet. On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, "Whipped" sinks to an obnoxious low with a creepy, cynical, coarse 1. It's a smutty, repellent sleazefest.

Susan Granger's review of "ALMOST FAMOUS" (DreamWorks)
Cameron Crowe's first film since "Jerry Maguire" is so engaging, entertaining and authentic that it's destined to become a rock-era classic. Set in 1973, this slightly fictionalized, semi-autobiographical, coming-of-age story revolves around a baby-faced 15 year-old (Patrick Fugit) prodigy whose intelligence and enthusiasm land him an assignment from "Rolling Stone" magazine to interview Stillwater, an up-and-coming band. With the help of Penny Lane (Kate Hudson), a bewitching "Band-Aid," he meets the charismatic lead guitarist (Billy Crudup) who invites him to join the tour, much to the dismay of his mother (Frances McDormand) who relentlessly repeats, "Don't do drugs!" Soon he's part of the inner circle of the band he idolizes, disregarding the caution of his rock critic mentor (Philip Seymour Hoffman): "Friendship is the booze they feed you to make you feel cool." Eventually, of course, the rookie reporter becomes disillusioned, honest and unmerciful. What's so compelling is Crowe's infallible casting which doesn't have a single discordant note. Patrick Fugit embodies innocent bewilderment, revealing one layer of surprise after another. Billy Crudup is dynamite, a superstar waiting to happen. Kate Hudson (Goldie Hawn's real-life daughter) gives a captivating, flamboyant yet hauntingly poignant performance. Frances McDormand is bracingly funny, playing with perfect pitch. Philip Seymour Hoffman is mesmerizing, exploding like a land mine. Finally, Crowe, cinematographer John Toll, art directors Clay A. Griffith & Clayton Hartley, and costume designer Betsy Heimann cleverly capture the sense of time and place. On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, "Almost Famous" is a soaring, spirited 10. I loved it! I haven't had such a good time at the movies in ages.

Susan Granger's review of "ART OF WAR" (Warner Bros.)
Talk about synchronous ideas: the same week that psychologist Richard Hatch became ultimate "Survivor," "Art of War" celebrates the concept of manipulation and control. It's all about using strategy to understand your opponent and defeat him. The idea of "Art of War" is based on an ancient handbook by Sun Tsu, a powerful Asian general who believed that wars can be won without ever having to actually fight. Many great generals, including Napoleon, used Sun Tsu's philosophy, and its tenets are as applicable to business, politics and winning TV game shows as they are to war. In the international suspense thriller, Wesley Snipes plays a covert American agent, a "fixer," who gets involved in the emerging trade relations between China and the Western world as a group of murdered Chinese refugees is found in a container in the New York harbor and the Chinese U.N. Ambassador is assassinated in the midst of delivering a speech. Because he was in the wrong place at the right time, Snipes is accused and the only witness who can prove his innocence is a Chinese translator (Marie Matiko). Meanwhile, Donald Sutherland is the U.N. Secretary General, a Canadian, with Anne Archer as his iron-fisted chief of security. Maury Chaykin is a senior FBI agent with his own agenda, while Michael Biehn is Snipes' partner. And Cary-Hiroyuki Tagawa is a successful entrepreneur, an Eastern cowboy straddling two cultures. Director Christian Duguay relishes the gratuitous, realistic violence of Wayne Beach and Simon Davis Barry's script, but it's Snipes' hip, cool charisma that ties the enigmatic story together, On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, "Art of War" is a slick, synchronous 7, the final summer popcorn picture. "It's the game that makes us tick" - and Wesley Snipes is the winner here

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Susan Granger's review of "FINAL APPEAL: THE OUTER LIMITS" (Showtime TV)
On Sunday, Sept. 3, at 8 PM, the two-hour final episode of "The Outer Limits" concludes the popular sci-fi series which aired 132 original, made-for-television episodes during six seasons. Written by Sam Egan and directed by Jimmy Kaufman, "Final Appeal" is set in the year 2076, when the U.S. Supreme Court agrees to hear a landmark case. Amanda Plummer plays Dr. Theresa Givens, who has been sentenced to death for her "crimes against society." Her transgressions center around the use of a time-travel device which violates a stringent ban on all technology in the wake of a devastating, world-wide technological holocaust. So it's back to the horse 'n' buggy as transportation and communication are restricted to the lowest levels of development. Kelly McGillis is her defense attorney, while Michael Moriarty is the prosecutor. Charlton Heston is the Chief Justice who is joined on the bench by Robert Loggia, Cicily Tyson, Swoozie Kurtz, and Hal Holbrook. The trial's outcome is unexpectedly prompted by a surprise witness, a terrorist played by Wallace Langham. The concept of using technology as a scapegoat for all of society's ills is intriguing, particularly with the use of film clips from previous "Outer Limits" episodes to illustrate different points-of-view. But, as actors, Amanda Plummer and Michael Moriarty muddle their characters. It's one thing for a thespian to choose an unusual line-reading, it's another to waver uncomfortably on the edge of bizarre. Plus, the staid courtroom setting tends to grow static as the participants are confined to specific places. So, on the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, "Final Episode" culminates in a 5, begging the question: What will become of a world that has outlawed the tools it has traditionally used to solve its problems?

Susan Granger's review of "BRING IT ON" (Universal Pictures)
It's not all pirouettes and posing for the razzle-dazzle pom-pom squad! Cheerleading is competitive and this exuberant teen comedy never lets you forget it. Kirsten Dunst plays the perky, newly-elected captain of the Toro cheerleading squad of Rancho Carne High School in San Diego. It's a prestigious position since the squad's won the national championship for five years and is heading for its sixth trophy. That is until Dunst befriends a transfer student (Eliza Dushku) and her brother (Jesse Bradford) and discovers that the Toro's perfectly-choreographed routines were, in fact, stolen by the ruthless former captain (Lindsay Sloane) from the Clovers, a hip-hop squad from East Compton. A visit to that inner-city school confirms the theft and the ire of the understandably angry captain (Gabrielle Union) of the African-American team that's also taking part in the upcoming national championships in Daytona. It gets kind of awkward and rah-rah rough here as Dunst laments, "My whole cheerleading career is based on a lie." But Dunst is a good enough comedienne to carry it off, gamely switching moods with a mischievous myriad of expressions. Written by Jessica Bendinger and directed by Peyton Reed, it's a silly, slangy and ultimately conventional spoof, touring the girls' locker room with an unusual skirmish involving teeth-brushing. No doubt, cheerleading is a sport that requires discipline, timing, strength, and concentration but that and the edgy, moral racial angle is neither emphasized nor deeply explored here, nor was it part of the trailer. Instead, the racial tension arises unexpectedly. On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, "Bring It On" is a bouncy, energetic 4, filled with gymnastics, dance and PG-13 sex appeal. As Dunst says: "This is not a democracy - it's a cheerocracy."

Susan Granger's review of "THE CREW" (Touchstone Pictures)
First "Space Cowboys," now another quartet of cranky, old geezers gear up for a final mission. No, they're not saving the planet; they're saving their sanity. It's been too many years since Bats (Burt Reynolds), Brick (Dan Hedaya), Mouth (Seymour Cassel) and Bobby (Richard Dreyfuss) had anything to do but sip slurpees and ogle bikinis from the verandah of the Raj Mahal, a ratty retirement hotel in South Beach, Florida. Once they had it all - money, power, women and respect - but now they're facing eviction from the semi-squalor of their suddenly trendy, ocean-view apartments when Bats comes up with a plan. They steal an unclaimed corpse from the mortuary where Brick works and shoot the dead guy in the lobby of their hotel. Predictably, their anti-gentrification scheme works. Squeamish yuppies flee the crime scene and their landlord relents, offering a rent reduction and hefty bonus for signing long-term leases. They're into heavy-duty celebration until they discover the corpse was the senile father of a paranoid South American drug lord (Miguel Sandoval) - and that Mouth spilled the story to a stripper/hooker (Jennifer Tilly) who threatens to blab unless the wiseguys bump off her wealthy, widowed step-mother (Lainie Kazan). Chaos reigns when this crime caper goes sour, much to the consternation and confusion of a police detective (Carrie-Ann Moss) who has more than a passing interest in Bobby. While I didn't find the gang-whiz along the side of the road particularly funny, Barry Fanaro's screenplay, directed by Michael Dinner, contrives to elicit chuckles if not belly-laughs. And why not? Fanaro used to write and produce TV's "The Golden Girls." On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, "The Crew" is a satirical 5, a genial geriatric Goodfellas.

Susan Granger's review of "SOLOMON & GAENOR" (Sony Pictures Classics)
Oscar nominated as Best Foreign Language Film, the love story called "Solomon & Gaenor" is set in the Welsh Valleys around 1911. Solomon (Ioan Gruffudd) is a young Orthodox Jewish boy whose parents run a pawnshop and drapery business. For added income, he trudges through the gray mist of the muddy, wet valleys selling cotton fabric door-to-door. That's how he meets gentle Gaenor (Nia Roberts), whose father and elder brother are miners. They're immediately attracted to each other but Solomon - painfully aware of the rampant anti-Semitism of the period and rebelling against his heritage - conceals his Jewish identity, telling her his name is Sam. After surprising her with a pretty dress of red calico that he made himself, they become clandestine lovers. In a deliciously awkward scene, he meets her family. "Now I want to meet your family," Gaenor pleads. "I want to make it right." But Solomon, ashamed, knows his devoutly religious family will not accept her, nor him if he chooses to stay with her. Meanwhile, his sister becomes suspicious, Gaenor gets pregnant and is denounced in chapel, and there's a strike at the coal mine. The ensuing scandal spells tragedy in director/writer Paul Morrison's confident, well-directed screenplay. And what etches "Solomon & Gaenor" indelibly in your mind is the beautiful photography the evokes the time, the place, and the mood. On the minus side, is the low-key, uneven way the story unfolds slowly, utilizing a measured, meandering pace. English subtitles translate the Welsh and Yiddish. On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, "Solomon & Gaenor" is a tough, uncompromising 7. It's "Romeo and Juliet" in Wales, capturing the exquisite pleasure and unbearable pain of first love.

Susan Granger's review of "SAVING GRACE" (Fine Line Features)
If you loved "The Full Monty" and "Waking Ned Devine," this is the gentle summer comedy for you! Set in the Cornish city of St. Isaacs, it's about Grace Trevethan (Brenda Blethlyn), an ostensibly comfortable, conservative middle-aged widow who discovers she's, literally, penniless. Her late husband, who died while parachuting, had mortgaged their manor house to the hilt, not to mention philandering in London with another woman who had the gall to show up at his funeral. Hounded by creditors, she has no recourse but to utilize her only talent - gardening - to grow something that will make her enough money to pay off her debts. So when her Scottish handyman (played by Craig Ferguson, who co-wrote the script with Mark Crowdy) admits he's been struggling with some sickly marijuana sprigs hidden behind the vicarage, she concludes: "No light, no buds." But once Grace gets them into her greenhouse, using some hydroponics, the plants thrive. Soon she's off to the city to find a buyer - and winds up in the clutches of a shady French drug dealer (Tcheky Karyo) who has more on his mind than her bumper crop of cannabis. In the meantime, Grace's proper garden club ladies are intrigued with her new "tea plants," sampling several with hilarious results. The psychedelic story takes an unexpectedly discordant and contrived twist at the end but, nevertheless, director Nigel Cole keeps the naughty shenanigans in high gear and you find yourselves rooting for gentle Grace to pull the hip, hemp caper of a lifetime. Like "The Full Monty" and "Waking Ned Devine," it's about ordinary people who find they must compromise their values in extraordinary circumstances. On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, "Saving Grace" is a warm, wry, whimsical 9. It's outrageously good fun!

Susan Granger's review of "THE SANDY BOTTOM ORCHESTRA" (SHOWTIME TV)
On Sunday night, August 27, at 8 PM, Showtime TV premieres this sugar-coated drama about an eccentric family struggling to belong in a small town in Northern Wisconsin. Based on the novel, "The Sandy Bottom Orchestra," by husband-and-wife Garrison Keillor and Jenny Lind Nilsson, it's constructed as a reminiscence, narrated by 14 year-old Rachel (Madeline Zima), a talented violinist, who lives in Sandy Bottom and studies at Amidore's Music School. Her mother Ingrid (Glenne Headley) gave up a promising career as a classical pianist to marry Norman (Tom Irwin), a local dairy farmer who dreams conducting an orchestra. Determined to bring culture to their provincial, little town, Ingrid tackles community "causes," like introducing sophisticated hymns to the recalcitrant members of the Zion Methodist Church choir, along with its troubled minister (Richard McMillan), and fighting to preserve a magnificent historical building which the Mayor wants to demolish to make way for a pizza parlor. Her closest friend is an 80 year-old widow (Jane Powell), who not only understands Ingrid's frustration but seems to be her only ally. Two pivotal crises occur when Norman, playing the impresario, decides to forgo the traditional marching and oom-pah bands to present a classical concert at the annual Dairy Days celebration and when Rachel's parents decide she should apply to Interlochen Music School in Michigan - but neither is explored in enough depth to be emotionally effective. Under the direction of Bradley Wigor, the actors rise above the bland superficiality of Joseph Maurer's script and the cinematography is beautiful. On the Granger Made-for-Television Movie Gauge, "The Sandy Bottom Orchestra" is a slow-paced, syrupy, sentimental 6, as it answers Ingrid's question: "I wonder what it would be like to feel you were part of something important." Additional playdates are Aug.30 at 9:35 AM, Sept. 2 at 8:15 AM, Sept. 22 at 11:15 AM, and Sept. 25 at 6:15 PM.

Susan Granger's review of "GODZILLA 2000" (Toho Films/Tri-Star Pictures)
Good grief! Another Godzilla movie? The legendary lizard is back in this low-tech, sci-fi fantasy from Japan's Toho studio - one that seems better suited to the video screen than a theatrical release. Actually, it's the 24th Godzilla picture - and much like the rest. Directed by Takao Okawara, the story follows Godzilla as he leaves his underwater home off Japan's coast, destroys a submarine and seaside restaurant, and heads for a nuclear power plant. A sympathetic scientist and his daughter, along with an eager reporter, want to study Godzilla - forming a Godzilla Prediction Network - but the military, as usual, has other explosive plans and Tokyo gets trampled in the process. The twist this time comes from a shape-shifting, radio-active, 6,000 year-old flying rock from outer space, an alien Orga, who tries to gobble the fire-breathing Godzilla. No effort has been made to try to synchronize the silly Japanese dialogue with the cheesy, dubbed-over Americanized English, and the results can only be called ludicrous. "Ah, the damn teriyaki is cold again!" says a diner when the big, green lizard lands near a noodle shop. "Great Caesar's ghost!" exclaims another character. There's also little attempt to disguise the actor who's wearing a cleated rubber suit. Originally conceived as a cautionary tale, "Godzilla, King of the Monsters" made its debut in 1954 and, fittingly, the current Godzilla's size has been scaled down from 328 feet (1991-1995 versions) to a mere 170 feet, closer to the original concept of 168 feet, as detailed in the earlier incarnations. On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, "Godzilla 2000" is a tedious 2 - for die-hard fans only - because "Maybe because Godzilla is inside each one of us."

Susan Granger's review of "THE CELL" (New Line Cinema)
Cinema is defined as "the art of motion pictures" and, for director Tarsem Singh (best known for R.E.M.'s "Losing My Religion" music video), the emphasis is on art. Jennifer Lopez stars as a pediatric psychotherapist who is involved in an experimental research program, working with a youngster in deep coma, when she's recruited by an FBI agent (Vince Vaughn) to delve inside the mind of a schizophrenic serial killer (Vincent D'Onofrio) in hopes of saving his most recent victim (Tara Subkoff). It seems the diabolical, voyeuristic killer kidnaps young women, tortures them in an underground tank, drowns them, and finally bleaches, slices and dices their corpses while watching videotapes of their suffering as he's suspended by hooks in his back, simulating weightlessness. This gruesome, thoroughly repulsive journey inside the landscape of a perverted patient's mind is made even more perilous since the empathetic therapist risks losing contact with reality. The sadistic, repetitive child abuse theme of Mark Protosevich's screenplay lacks psychiatric plausibility. And with her seductive, whispery voice and gallons of pink lip gloss, pop-culture diva Jennifer Lopez is hardly credible as a virtual reality expert, serving instead as a shallow, ultra-chic fashion model doing perfunctory posing in a chaotic dream-world. But the daring, obsessive fantasy is amazing. Tarsem Singh's vision combines David Cronenberg with Salvador Dali, Federico Fellini with Heironymous Bosch - with a bit of "Hellraiser" thrown in. On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, "The Cell" is a visually arresting but deeply disturbing 6. If digital design and stylized symbolism intrigue you, go to this unpleasant but meticulous mindtrip. But be aware that it's style over substance, amounting to less than meets the eye.

Susan Granger's review of "BLESS THE CHILD" (Paramount Pictures)
There's a problem casting Kim Basinger. Since winning an Oscar for "L.A. Confidential," she's attempted two protagonist roles - "I Dreamed of Africa" and this - and neither has worked. Kim's pretty but emotionally passive. Which just isn't appropriate for this supernatural thriller in which a psychiatric nurse, a lapsed Catholic, discovers that her strung-out junkie sister's child, Cody (Holliston Coleman), whom she's cared for since birth, is "special". Not only can the six year-old cause objects to spin and the snow inside a paperweight form a cyclone, she revives a 'dead' bird in the school yard. And that's just the beginning of the girl's spiritual power, at least according to runaway informant Christina Ricci and censured Jesuit Ian Holm, who reveal that Cody's birth coincided with the reappearance of the Star of Bethlehem after two millennia - and the devil is after her soul. His missionary is creepy looking Rufus Sewell, whose unfocused eyes are as disconcerting as a leering gargoyle. Predictably, Cody is abducted by his black-clad Satanists and threatened continuously to renounce God for the forces of darkness before Black Easter. "She will be ours!" vows Sewell. Only Jimmy Smits, as a former seminarian-turned-FBI agent specializing in the occult, is willing to help Basinger. (For this, Smits quit "NYPD Blue"?) Reminiscent of "Stigmata," "The Exorcist," "The Omen" and "The Sixth Sense," the stilted screenplay, credited to three writers, strips novelist Cathy Cash Spellman's plot down to its sinister mystery-child essentials. Chuck Russell's direction is lackluster and the special-effects are limited to computer-generated rats and demons. On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, "Bless the Child" is an ominous, apocalyptic 4. Good vs. Evil? You guess who wins.

Susan Granger's review of "AUTUMN IN NEW YORK" (M.G.M. Pictures)
When M.G.M. refused to screen this tear-jerking May-December romance for critics, it was an ominous sign because studios usually hide the star-laden stinkers, hoping to get at least one solid weekend before reviews come out. But it's not that bad. It's also not that good. Richard Gere plays a 48 year-old, hotshot Manhattan restaurateur with a reputation as a notorious womanizer and whose picture is on the cover of NEW YORK magazine. Winona Ryder is a giggly, free-spirited, Emily Dickinson-quoting, 22 year-old millinery designer who informs him, shortly after their affair begins, that she's suffering from an extremely rare and probably terminal tumor which affects her heart. So is it going to be the "Love Story" of the millennium year? Probably not. Heavy-handed screenwriter Allison Burnett is no Erich Segal. First of all, too much is made of the age difference. In fact, according to her cackling grandmother (Elaine Stritch), Gere even dated Ryder's late mother. Plus, he has an illegitimate daughter (Vera Farmiga) who is Ryder's age, and bartender (Anthony La Paglia) keeps warning him. Even Ryder bluntly quips, "You've got to look on the bright side. In a year or so, I'll be this sob story you can use to bag more chicks." Then there's the soggy dialogue: "We have no future. All I have to offer you is this - until it's over" and "What should we do with this moment we're in?" On the other hand, director Joan Chen and cinematographer Changwei Gu create such intoxicatingly beautiful visuals that you forget they're cliché-ridden - like the closer you come to dying, the more luminous and beautiful you become. On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, "Autumn in New York" is a sentimental, predictable, melodramatic 4, but this glossy, two-hankie weeper at least deserved to find its niche.

Susan Granger's review of "THE EYES OF TAMMY FAYE" (Lions Gate Films)
A hit at the Sundance Film Festival, this kitschy and affectionate documentary by Randy Barbato and Fenton Bailey chronicles the life and times of Tammy Faye Bakker, ex-wife of evangelist Jim Bakker who - in a spectacular and highly publicized free-fall from grace - lost control of the PTL (Praise the Lord) Ministries to manipulative minister Jerry Falwell and wound up in jail. Narrated by "RuPaul" Charles, it delves beneath the public persona of the teary Tammy Faye and into the storybook life of the couple who had the audacity to make Christian fellowship fun, creating a Heritage USA water park that was the ultimate baptismal font and openly welcoming homosexuals into their PTL Club. Tammy Faye grew up as a humble Christian girl who loved puppets and had such strong faith that she claims a wart on her finger was cured during a Sunday communion. When she was in college, she met and married Jim Bakker, whose faith matched hers. Together, they cultivated the electronic pulpit, building three Christian television networks and becoming arguably the most popular Christian force in the United States. Their dreams were expensive and their money-raising schemes extensive. Then, in the 1980s, scandal rocked Tammy Faye's life, destroying her reputation and her marriage. Nevertheless, Tammy Faye is once again on her feet, the indomitable survivor, back in the limelight where she feels she belongs. Obviously, the filmmakers are sympathetic and their bias propels the narrative. On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, "The Eyes of Tammy Faye" is an ironic, irreverent, comic 7. I suspect that one of the reasons this film resonates so strongly with audiences is that we live in a very judgmental society and, just perhaps, we were wrong about Tammy Faye.

Susan Granger's review of "COYOTE UGLY"
Adding a new finale, a flashy musical number at the hip, rowdy bar where the exhibitionistic young women work, caused this Jerry Bruckheimer film to almost miss its August 4th opening date. And - who knows? - perhaps it was the only fitting conclusion to this cinematic amalgam of Hooters, "Cocktail" and "Flashdance," written by Gina Wendkos and directed by David McNally, a veteran of TV commercials. Newcomer Piper Perabo stars as a naive, 21 year-old aspiring New Jersey singer-songwriter who ventures across the Hudson River to seek fame and fortune as a barmaid in Manhattan's gritty, high-energy Coyote Ugly bar, strutting her seductive shots-and-beer stuff under the watchful eye of bar owner Maria Bello, who mandates: "You are to appear to be available but never be available. Other tantalizing, dancing "coyotes" include Izabella Miko, Bridget Moynahan and model Tyra Banks. Coyote Ugly's a treasure chest (pardon the pun!) of unruly, bizarre behavior - like hosing down the crowd if someone orders water, even setting fire to the bar - but that's about the only interesting thing in this otherwise dull, wretchedly cliché-filled movie. Predictably, there's a skeptical guy Piper falls for - Adam Garcia. Her apartment gets robbed and her nice-guy, widower dad, played by John Goldman, is hospitalized - yawn! There's a sexual tease with tight, revealing costumes but no nudity. It's rated PG-13. The sound-track rocks loudly even if it doesn't exactly roll - with singer LeAnn Rimes dubbing Piper Perabo's voice and making a cameo appearance near the end of the film. On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, "Coyote Ugly" is an undulating, sappy 3. If you want to find the REAL Coyote Ugly watering hole, it's on 10th Avenue in the East Village.

Susan Granger's review of "ONE KILL" (SHOWTIME TV MOVIE - Sunday, Aug. 6th)
As relevant as today's headlines, this thriller, which airs on SHOWTIME Sunday at 8 P.M., exposes the double standard women face in the military. A highly decorated Marine Corps Captain (Anne Heche), a single mother, discovers she's up against the "good ole boy" network when she's awakened at gunpoint by an intruder, wrestles free, then shoots and kills her assailant. While a local court rules the incident justifiable homicide, the military views it differently since the man (Sam Shepard) she killed was a Major and a war hero. A military prosecutor calls it "premeditated murder" when it's disclosed that the Captain and the married Major had an affair. So her future is in the hands of an attorney (Eric Stoltz), the son of a highly regarded military officer. Through flashbacks, we learn what really happened and the chain of events that led up to it. "One Kill" presents a true moral dilemma - one that viewers will find quite provocative. Writer Shelley Evans and director Christopher Menaul reveal that the Captain was in an untenable position. The Major was opposed changes in military policies that allow women to lead battle units, yet in a rigged special training exercise, the Captain' s unit wins. Intrigued by her courage and stamina, the obsessed Major begins his own personal assault, even stalking her, although it's against regulations for them to fraternize. One quibble: physically, Anne Heche is too tiny and thin; her size works against her believability. On the Granger Made-for-TV Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, "One Kill" is an intelligent, stylish, suspenseful 7. As proven with the recent case of Lt. Gen. Claudia Kennedy vs. Maj. Gen. Larry Smith, military women have come to realize that if you have the courage to report sexual harassment, you can expect to be doubted and persecuted.

Susan Granger's review of "PAY IT FORWARD" (Warner Bros.)
It's a bit early to start my Best Pictures of the Year list, but this powerful, thought-provoking film packs such an unexpectedly emotional wallop that it's right up there! The story revolves around a serious 11 year-old (Haley Joel Osment) whose social studies teacher (Kevin Spacey) challenges the class to "Think of an idea to change our world - and put it into action." Life's not been easy for the troubled 7th grader whose single, alcoholic mother (Helen Hunt) works two jobs on the strip in Las Vegas and whose abusive, deadbeat dad (Jon Bon Jovi) could return at any time. But he devises "pay it forward," meaning that he does one significantly good, kind thing for three people who, in turn, do one significantly good, kind thing for three more people, etc. - thereby making a difference. And his scheme brings his wary mother and emotionally repressed teacher together romantically, an added bonus, plus catching the attention of a news reporter (Jay Mohr) who traces its impact. As the lonely teacher with a horribly burned face, Kevin Spacey's character is delicately etched with a tender reserve of humor and irony, while Helen Hunt bears more than a passing resemblance to Julia Roberts's "Erin Brockovich." But, once again, Haley Joel Osment ("The Sixth Sense") steals the show and should be looking at another Oscar nomination. His performance is pure perfection, erasing the line between acting and essence. James Caviezel and Angie Dickinson score dramatically as homeless derelicts. Based on a novel by Catherine Ryan Hyde, it's beautifully written by Leslie Dixon ("The Thomas Crown Affair") and brilliantly directed by Mimi Leder ("Deep Impact"). On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, "Pay It Forward" is an extraordinary, triumphant 10, a definite must-see.

Susan Granger's review of "LOST SOULS" (New Line Cinema)
You gotta wonder about a Winona Ryder movie that was supposed to be released in 1999 and doesn't make it into theaters until Friday the 13th in October, 2000. In this faith vs. reason supernatural thriller, Winona plays a devout Catholic who is not only obsessed with the concept of demonic possession but often hallucinates about Satan. She was once exorcised by a priest (John Hurt) and is now convinced that the Devil is about to re-appear on Earth in the body of an atheistic, best-selling criminology writer (Ben Chaplin) who believes "Good and Evil are only illusions" and that serial killers are motivated by "malignant narcissism." True, he's been troubled by weird dreams in which the letters XES appear. When his brother points out that the letters spell SEX backwards, he's mollified - at least until he learns that XES is also the Roman numeral "666," the sign of the Devil, and a renegade priest tries to shoot him, muttering, "The time of transformation is near!" Written by Pierce Gardner, this mangled, derivative muddle of banal mumbo-jumbo is based on his story with Betsy Stahl, and Oscar-winning cinematographer Janusz Kaminski ("Schindler's List," "Saving Private Ryan") makes an inauspicious directorial debut. Working with lenser Mauro Fiore, Kaminski's stark, stylized lighting and surrealistic imagery create a creepy atmosphere of murky darkness, heightened by Jay Riddle's special effects and Jan Kacmarek's score. It's no stretch for Winona Ryder to be a terrified, wide-eyed waif (i.e.: "Bram Stoker's Dracula" and "Alien IV"), but credit Ben Chaplin for not laughing at her when he says: "You really should get some professional help." On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, "Lost Souls" is a far-fetched 2. "Deliver us from evil..." says the ads. Deliver us from movies like this!

Susan Granger's review of "THE CONTENDER" (DreamWorks)
Is the United States really ready for a woman to be a heartbeat away from the Presidency? That's the challenging premise of this timely political thriller in which a Vice-President dies and Senator Laine Hanson (Joan Allen) is chosen by the President (Jeff Bridges) as his successor. Her surprise selection meets with opposition, particularly from a powerful adversary (Gary Oldman) who heads the Congressional confirmation hearings and prefers another Senator (William Petersen), the hero in a recent tragic accident. Controversy erupts when an Internet site reveals a shocking incident from Hanson's college days, along with sexually explicit photographs. Now a happily married mother, she doesn't deny the allegations but refuses to discuss the sex scandal, contending that her personal past has no relevance on her public persona. It's principles vs. politics. Joan Allen's daring and affecting performance is not just one of the best of the year, it's one of the screen's best examples of a woman's vulnerable, stoic courage. This remarkable actress never hits a false note. Jeff Bridges is quite believable, as are Gary Oldman, William Petersen, Christian Slater, Sam Elliott, Saul Rubinek, Mariel Hemingway and Philip Baker Hall. The multi-layered screenplay by Rod Lurie ("Deterrence") reveals one layer of surprise after another and his swiftly economical direction proceeds with a feverish sense of pace and tempo that keeps the attention riveted. Problem is: the buxom co-ed in the lurid photo bears little resemblance to the Senator and the heavy-handed running gag about the White House cuisine soon gets stale. On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, "The Contender" is an intriguing, enigmatic, compelling 8, despite Ben Franklin's referral to the post of Vice-President as "your superfluous excellency."

Susan Granger's review of "DANCER IN THE DARK" (Fine Line Features)
Love it or hate it, you gotta admire its audacity! Danish director Lars von Trier who, back in 1995, co-authored the Dogma manifesto, demanding that cinema be purified of tricks and illusions and go back-to-basics, has come up with a bizarre homage to the Hollywood musical. Making her film debut, the Icelandic pop singer Bjork plays Selma, a Czech immigrant working at a factory in the Pacific Northwest in the 1960s. An avid admirer of American musicals, she fantasizes song-and-dance routines as she goes about her depressing daily existence. It's her "emotional landscape." One complication: because of a congenital condition, she's also going blind, as will her 12 year-old son (Vladica Kostic) if she cannot raise the money for surgery to save his sight. Which makes her lyrics, "I've seen it all. There's nothing left to see," particularly poignant. Catherine Deneuve is a supportive co-worker and Peter Stromare is a besotted suitor but, when a treacherous neighbor (David Morse) steals her stash of cash, Selma panics, commits a grotesque crime and faces a bleak future. Like Emily Watson in "Breaking the Waves," Bjork is a compelling, elfin creature playing a stubborn child/woman trapped in an irrational paradox of reality versus fantasy. In addition, of course, Bjork composed the music. Curiously, von Trier contradicts his own Dogma purity principles by creating an improbable, deliberately stylized film using not only 100 cameras in a dance sequence but also recorded music to which Bjork lip-synchs; I've heard there are 110 tracks in every song. Winner of the Golden Palm at the Cannes Film Festival, on the Granger Movie Gauge, "Dancer in the Dark" is a fascinating but, ultimately, frustrating 7. It's a musical melodrama that's blatantly manipulative in its overt sentimentality.

Susan Granger's review of "DR. T AND THE WOMEN" (Artisan Entertainment)
Dr. Sullivan Travis (Richard Gere) is an outrageously successful Dallas gynecologist who genuinely cares for his patients and dotes on his wife and daughters. His problem: he worships women, referring to them as "saints." He's a genuinely nice man, surrounded by a kaleidoscope of neurotic, mostly unpleasant females. After she's arrested for cavorting nude in a public fountain, it's obvious that his wife (Farrah Fawcett) has regressed into a childlike state before the extravagant society wedding of their cheerleader daughter (Kate Hudson) who, according to their other daughter (Tara Reid), is having an affair with her enigmatic maid-of-honor (Liv Tyler). His boozy sister-in-law (Laura Dern), in the midst of a divorce, has moved in with her three little girls. And controlling the chaos of his overbooked practice falls on his adoring office-manager (Shelley Long). It's no wonder that he flees to the country club, where he finds solace with the level-headed, briskly independent, new assistant golf pro (Helen Hunt). Written by Ann Rapp and directed by Robert Altman, who collaborated on "Cookie's Fortune," this stinging character study and satiric social commentary with its curiously twisted ending has a distinctly misogynistic undertone. Certainly, the vulnerability of a woman with her legs in stirrups during a gynecological exam is ripe for humor - "That man knows how to handle a speculum!" - but Richard Gere plays the charming doctor like an amiable sap who's constantly victimized by the privileged, pampered shrews who surround him with their shrill cacophony of whining, demanding voices. Lyle Lovett's honky-tonk score provides welcome distraction. On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, "Dr. T and the Women" is a flimsy 4. It's an irreverent, estrogen-enhanced farce that just isn't very funny.

Susan Granger's review of "BILLY ELLIOT" (Universal Focus)
Beginning with an exuberant title sequence, this charming, off-beat, coming-of-age story revolves around Billy Elliot, the younger of two sons of a widower coal miner in Northern England. It's 1984, and the miners are engaged in a long, bitter strike. Following the family tradition, Billy is expected to learn boxing at the Everington Boys Club where, instead, the 11 year-old becomes enthralled by the girls' dancing class, led by a chain-smoking teacher who recognizes his raw talent. But when his macho father and rabble-rousing brother discover he's taking ballet lessons, they ridicule Billy ("Lads do boxing and football and wrestling, not friggin' ballet."), forcing him to hide his slippers under the mattress and sneak off to class. Then come the auditions for the Royal Ballet School and Billy's joyful, foot-stompin' "I Want to Boogie" sequence. What makes this heartfelt English import such a gem is the collaboration of writer Lee Hall, cinematographer Brian Tufano and director Stephen Daldry, who - despite the simplistic predictability of the plot - create eccentric, lovable characters and evocative imagery. As Billy, Jamie Bell embodies awkward determination, juggling grim reality with a surreal fantasy world. ("Just because I like ballet doesn't mean I'm a pouf!") As his father, Gary Lewis is tough-yet-tender, and Julie Walters scores as Billy's crusty yet compassionate teacher. Jamie Draven and Stuart Wells lend strong support with Jean Heywood touching as Billy's senile grandmother who recalls, "I could have been a professional dancer." While the bleak setting is reminiscent of "The Full Monty," the energetic mood evokes "Flashdance." On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, "Billy Elliot" is an exhilarating 8. Combining comedy and poignancy, it's all about being yourself.

Susan Granger's review of "MEET THE PARENTS" (Universal Pictures)
Great humor comes from simple, universal truths, and there are few rites-of-passage as unnerving as meeting your prospective spouse's family. That's the dreaded dilemma facing Greg Focker (Ben Stiller) who realizes that it's important to get her father's permission before he proposes to his girlfriend Pam (Teri Polo). A trip from Chicago to New York for her younger sister's wedding seems like the right occasion but things go from bad (lost luggage) to worse when her father Jack (Robert De Niro) turns out to be an eccentric, dogmatic, humorless ex-CIA agent, specializing in psychological profiling, who spent 19 months in a Vietnamese prison camp. "Under my roof, it's my way or the Long Island Expressway," dictates Jack, regarding 21st century sexual mores. Feeling like an outsider about to abscond with their first-born, Greg manages to do everything wrong, as the cat disappears, septic tank overflows, sump pump explodes and wedding altar catches fire. And his discomfort is augmented by Greg's being a male nurse in a houseful of doctors. There's a hilarious scene in which Greg muses about the meaning of "Puff the Magic Dragon," impelling Pam's mother (Blythe Danner) to placate Jack later, noting, "Maybe he uses marijuana for medicinal purposes." Ben Stiller's perfect as the hapless, anxiety-ridden interloper, while Robert De Niro uses his serious, dramatic intensity to be an intimidating adversary - much to the credit of director Jay Roach ("Austin Powers"). Based on a story by Greg Glienna & Mary Ruth Clarke, the wry, deftly frantic screenplay by Jim Herzfeld & John Hamburg evokes multi-generational empathy before running out of steam. On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, "Meet the Parents" is an uproarious, entertaining 8. It's laugh-out-loud funny.

Susan Granger's review of "GIRLFIGHT" (Screen Gems)
Curiously coinciding with the culmination of the summer Olympics, this is a female twist on the perennially popular, "Rocky"-genre underdog tale. Written and directed by Karyn Kusama, the coming-of-age story focuses on Diana Guzman (Michelle Rodriguez), a sullen, tough, pugnacious, young Latina who is determined to carve a different future for herself. But in Brooklyn's Red Hook projects, there are not many choices. If she doesn't get pregnant, she's going to wind up in a dead-end job. "Your mother was a receptionist in a very nice office," her widower father (Paul Calderon) reminds her. So - without parental consent - she sneaks into the ring and immediately views boxing as a viable ticket out of poverty. The shabby gym becomes her sanctuary. She's encouraged by her paternal coach (Jaime Tirelli) who recognizes her featherweight potential and channels her rebellious rage into the discipline of the sport, despite the inevitable ridicule and harassment. There's even a romantic twist provided by a fellow boxer (Santiago Douglas) who competes with her in the ring. But the climactic fight is too long and predictable. Plus, the script is burdened with heavy-handed dramatic confrontations and awkward dialogue. Nevertheless, with her mean left hook and a big mouth, Michelle Rodriguez - who's reminiscent of a youthful Marlon Brando - exhibits all the unaffected feistiness necessary to make her a winner. Indeed, this feminist fairy-tale was highly acclaimed at Sundance, Cannes, Deauville and Toronto. And it's not surprising that the brilliant independent film-maker John Sayles lent his expertise as executive producer. On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, "Girlfight" is a poignant, satisfying 7 - if you like seeing a muscular girl pummeling and pounding her opponents.

Susan Granger's review of "THE EXORCIST": THE VERSION YOU'VE NEVER SEEN
So what's new about William Friedkin's horror-thriller? You'd be surprised. Adapted from William Peter Blatty's best-seller about demonic possession, it's quite an eye-opener particularly viewed from a PC-2000 perspective. Like when Linda Blair, playing a "normal" 12 year-old whose body is possessed by the Devil, stabs her crotch with a crucifix while screaming a blasphemy. Would that scene get an R-rating from the MPAA today? One wonders. So much is in the eye of the beholder. So, let's go back to 1973, when "The Exorcist" was first released. Still reeling from the sexual revolution of the '60s, Hollywood was striving for candor and honesty, finally free from the restraints of the Hays Office and Breen Code. Now, as then, the graphic, anti-religious language is the primary shocker. The new version includes 11 minutes of new footage with enhanced sound. In one of the added scenes, a younger priest (Jason Miller) asks an older priest why Satan would harm an innocent girl. The older priest replies that Satan has only one purpose: "The point is to see ourselves as an animal and ugly...to reject the possibility that God could love us." Plus, there's a scene in which Blair does a crab walk down the stairs, upside down on all fours, bleeding from her mouth and screaming loudly. And there's a more positive ending in which an atheist detective (Lee. J. Cobb) feels closer to God for having known the exorcist priests. Apparently, Blatty, a devout Roman Catholic, always wanted this final message of good conquering evil, while Friedkin opted for people to reach their own conclusions. On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, "The Exorcist" (2000) is still a gruesome, intense 8. It will always be remembered as the movie which launched a new genre of pop culture horror films.

Susan Granger's review of "BEAUTIFUL" (Destination Films)
Mark Twain once said, "A soiled baby with a neglected nose cannot be conscientiously regarded as a thing of beauty." As a corollary, this clumsy satire forces audiences to spend two hours with Mona Hibbard, a vain, self-centered, thoroughly disagreeable protagonist, played by Minnie Driver, in her grating quest for the Miss America-like beauty pageant crown. Mona was born in a shack in Naperville, Illinois, to white-trash parents who apparently tolerated her passion for entering beauty contests while fostering her low self-esteem. Now the mother of an illegitimate daughter, she passes off the little girl (Hallie Kate Eisenberg, instantly recognizable from Pepsi TV commercials) as the daughter of her best-friend/ room-mate (Joey Lauren Adams) - which becomes a problem when the maternal care-giver implausibly winds up in jail. And we're supposed to believe that the precocious child doesn't know who her real mother is! Jon Bernstein's manipulative, cliché-filled screenplay sinks below soap-opera, as Mona's secret could be exposed by an inquiring TV reporter (Leslie Stefanson) whose own ambitions were thwarted by Mona several years earlier in an incident involving dumping industrial-strength adhesive on her flaming, twirling baton. Actress Sally Field makes her directorial debut with this film; mercifully, she can never sink lower. Nor can Kathleen Turner, inexcusably chewing up the scenery as Mona's pageant mentor. There is one funny moment, though, when Mona sings "The Wind Beneath My Wings" to a pregnant woman about to give birth in a supermarket. On the Granger Movie Gauge of 1 to 10, "Beautiful" barely manages a shallow 2. If you're intrigued by beauty contests, rent Michael Ritchie's satirical "Smile" or the more recent "Drop Dead Gorgeous."