'Mr. Fox' really is fantastic

The Fantastic Mr. Fox can't suppress his inner wild.

I have no idea whether children will enjoy Wes Anderson's stop-action animated feature Fantastic Mr. Fox. And you know what? I don't particularly care. All I know is that I was totally entertained by this witty and beautifully detailed adaptation of a Roald Dahl story. For me, the mixture of sly humor, talking animals and terrific voice work resulted in one of the year's more amusing movie experiences.

Let me emphasize the point about voice work. Mr. Fox contains some of the best voices to grace an animated feature in this or any other year. George Clooney is perfectly cast as Mr. Fox, a married fox who writes a newspaper column, but can't quite suppress his inner wildness. Far fetched? Not really: I've known columnists like that.

Meryl Streep provides the voice of Mrs. Fox; she understands her husband's adventurous streak, but hopes he'll keep it in check. Jason Schwartzman gives voice to Ash, their son, and Eric Anderson helps bring Kristofferson to life; he's a visiting cousin who happens to excel at all the activities Ash has trouble mastering, most notably athletics.

Meticulously constructed backgrounds add to a story in which Mr. Fox decides it's time to move his family out of a hole in the ground and into a tree house, a real estate deal that his attorney Badger (Bill Murray) advises against. But Mr. Fox wants to move on up, and he's not in an advice-taking mood.

Once ensconced in his new home, Mr. Fox is tempted by the livestock and produce of three farmers -- Boggis, Bunce and Bean. With an assist from Kylie the opossum (Wallace Wolodarsky), Mr. Fox raids the farms in search of delectable treats. The farmers retaliate, organizing under the leadership of Mr. Bean (Michael Gambon). This trio of ill-tempered humans tries all manner of tricks to exterminate the Fox -- and most of the rest of the animal population in the area.

We root for the animals at the same time as we enjoy Clooney's witty delivery and the humor served up by the rest of the cast. You should know, though, that Anderson's sympathy for animals doesn't extend to some of their prey -- chickens, for example. Despite Clooney's breezy delivery, Fox's instructions on chicken killing are brutally blunt.

Though he has inspired a near cultish following, Anderson (Rushmore, The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou, The Royal Tenenbaums and The Darjeeling Limited) isn't one my favorite directors. But I enjoyed Fantastic Mr. Fox more than anything Anderson has done to date. Its anarchic spirit and earthy humor make for a fine time at the movies. Eat your hearts out, kids.

This 'Road' leads to depression

Viggo Mortensen and Kodi Smit-McPhee on a harrowing journey.

Bleak seldom has looked bleaker than in The Road, an adaptation of Cormac McCarthy's 2006, Pulitzer Prize winning novel. A serious post-apocalyptic meditation, the big-screen version of The Road has everything it needs, save for McCarthy's prose, and its absence proves a liability.

No Country For Old Men notwithstanding, McCarthy's novels aren't exactly a screenwriter's dream. To deprive a McCarthy novel of its prose stands as a misguided form of reductionism and helps to prove a shopworn adage: Fine novels don't necessarily translate into equally fine movies.

I guess director John Hillcoat deserves credit for trying, but sans the disturbing grandeur of McCarthy's voice, Hillcoat's carefully conceived and drastically somber adaptation tends to shroud itself in the tedium of dead-end gloom.

The movie's ravished landscapes gradually drain the spirit, which I suppose is appropriate, but the novel had a poetic sense of loss that brought us face-to-face with extinction -- not just of ourselves but of everything we take for granted. The movie, though grimly accomplished, can't scale those kind of heights or perhaps I should say, it can't plumb the horrible depths of life -- all life -- on the precipice.

The Road focuses on the relationship between a father and his young son, a relationship honed by the sorrow of a world bereft of all but the smallest hopes: finding something edible, for example.

As is the case with the novel, a character called The Man (Viggo Mortensen) tries his to protect his son (Kodi Smit-McPhee). In flashbacks, we learn that The Woman (Charlize Theron) -- the boy's mother -- refused to face an intolerable future and committed suicide. This left The Man and his son to wander the ruined landscape, searching for food and trying to avoid the Bad Guys, survivors who have resorted to murder and cannibalism.

Though the movie never explains the cataclysm that befell the world, it hardly matters. In this rubble of ruined dreams and scattered ash, the surviving residue of humanity has turned brutal.

If you scan the movie's credits, you'll note that the presence of a variety of actors, but only two -- other than Mortensen and Smit-McPhee -- receive any real showcase. Michael Kenneth Williams plays a wanderer who attempts to steal from The Man and his son, who push their belongings around in a shopping cart. Robert Duvall appears as The Old Man, a survivor who arouses the boy's sympathy.

Joe Penhall's script eventually reveals an essential conflict. The Boy hasn't lost the impulses that lead toward decency, compassion and trust: The Man regards such virtues as stumbling blocks on the littered road to survival. Additional tension arises as The Man contemplates whether he'll have the will to kill his son should they confront an inescapable threat.

Although The Road ends on a slightly hopeful note, the movie tends to leave you bobbing on gray seas of depression. Perhaps it has been weighed down by all the post-apocalyptic debris. To the extent that the movie works, credit must be given to Javier Aguirresarobe's unforgiving cinematography and to Mortensen's performance, all dirt and emaciation.

Hillcoat remains faithful to the novel, so much so that movie can be viewed as act of respect for McCarthy. Keep in mind, though, that the biggest event in the novel may not have been the apocalypse, but McCarthy's language. Hillcoat has found no real equivalent for that. I'm not sure anyone could.

Ninjas out for blood and revenge

When Rain's around, it tends to pour blood.

Silly as it may sound, that statement could serve as a credo for Ninja Assassin, a movie whose title promises more than director James McTeigue (V For Vendetta) is able to deliver.

Rain, a Korean singer with an international profile, stars as Raizo, a young man who flees his ninja master and spends the rest of the movie running from the Ozunu Clan. That's not a bad idea because the Ozunus tend to hold grudges. They view any deviation from the assassin's life as a major form of betrayal.

Messy and lacking in distinction, this martial arts extravaganza doesn't measure up to its genre challenge. Blame an overly convoluted plot that experiences continental drift, wandering from Asia to Berlin as Rain's Raizo tries to escape the wrath of his former mentor, the vicious Lord Ozunu (Sho Kosugi). Ozunu once considered the exceptionally skilled Raizo as a son and possible successor.

In Berlin, a Europol agent (Naomie Harris) joins with Rain's Raizo in trying to fend off a ceaseless string of assassination attempts. Raizo and his new sidekick are constantly on the run.

Look I know great writing has little (maybe nothing) to do with the success of a ninja movies, and we should credit McTiegue with getting some things right: The mysterious ninja clan system proves intriguing, as does the stark simplicity of Lord Ozunu's mountain retreat, sort of a monastery of murder. Flashback scenes in which Lord Ozunu trains his youthful charges are tense, eerie and appropriately sadistic. And, yes, there's a thrill in watching black-clad ninjas slipping unnoticed into rooms.

But these hardly compensate for the movie's rampant chaos. Much of the action take place in the dark of night, and it's fair to say that you may not be able to tell what's happening. Sure, everything moves quickly, but it would have been nice to have some idea where things were headed.

Too bad. What could make for a more bracing Thanksgiving than watching ninja warriors carve one another up? Now, all that's left to do with our carefully sharpened knives is aim them at the nearest turkey. Have at it.

Young men who make the girls scream

In Edward's absence, Bella looks to Jacob for protection.

For me, the most entertaining thing about The Twilight Saga: New Moon -- aside from a lot of inadvertent humor -- was the audience. At a preview screening, hordes of tweens -- some accompanied by their mothers -- screamed each time one of the major male characters appeared sans shirt. The audience's amusing hyperventilation kept my bad will at bay -- and allowed me to enjoy this amazingly silly movie for what it is, a pre-teen phenomenon. That's good because as a movie, New Moon hardly merits a mention, particularly for those of us who prefer the grown-up vampires on HBO's True Blood.

In this chapter, Bella Swan (Kristen Stewart) spends most of the movie pining for Edward Cullen (Robert Pattinson), the vampire who leaves her because he fears he'll be unable to protect her from all manner of supernatural dangers. In Edward's absence, Jacob Black (Taylor Lautner) becomes Bella's protector: He's a werewolf -- or at least he's able to turn himself into a CGI version of a giant, snarling beast.

Director Chris Weitz (The Golden Compass) takes over where director Catherine Hardwicke left off with the first installment. He keeps things moody, as if the entire movie has sprung from the depths of Bella's adolescent funk.

Edward's departure leaves Bella feeling as if she has a hole in her chest. Unless you're 12 or 13, the movie may leave you feeling as if you've got a hole in your head. Bella's dad (Billy Burke) seems a little bewildered, too; he races into her room to offer comfort when Bella wakes up screaming. Nothing seems to help.

Much of New Moon takes place in the northwestern forests of the United States, but this edition stretches its budget to travel to Italy where Edward appears before the Volturi, a trio of vampires who seem to be more powerful than ordinary vamps.

Based on a popular series of books by Stephanie Meyer, the Twilight movies arrive on screen with a built-in audience that seems to have enlarged because of the popularity of the first film. And I guess there's something to be said for a movie that poses an unusual question for a teen-age girl: Would a vampire or a werewolf make the better lover?

Not being one who cares much about the answer, I found myself wondering whether Bella wouldn't be better off putting some effort into her SATs. But, hey, that's just me.

She helps him reach NFL glory

Good mom Bullock reads to Quinton Aaron and Jae Head.

Michael Oher plays tackle for the Baltimore Ravens. If you happen to see a close-up of Oher on the sidelines, it might be difficult to distinguish him from the other behemoths who populate NFL lines. The dude is 6'5" tall and weighs 310 pounds. How exactly anyone can move these kinds of players off the line of scrimmage is beyond me, but that's a story for another day.

The story for today involves a movie called The Blind Side, which stars Sandra Bullock as the white mother who took the dispossessed Oher under wing and Quinton Aaron as Oher during his high school years.

If you've seen the trailer, you already have a pretty good idea about the movie: In other words, it's predictable in ways that are calculated to satisfy, and Oher's story does hold our interest. Oher managed to be admitted to a Memphis private school, mostly because the school's football coach (Ray McKinnon) hated to see his bulk go to waste. On the verge of homelessness, Oher attracted the attention of Bullock's Leigh Anne Tuohy, a no-nonsense woman who opened the family home to the kid everyone called "Big Mike."

The Tuohy family -- husband Sean (Tim McGraw), teen-age daughter Collins (Lily Collins) and younger brother SJ (Jae Head) -- all welcomed Michael. Eventually, the Tuohys adopted Michael and hired a tutor (Kathy Bates) to help boost his grade point average and make him scholarship eligible for college.

The movie also chronicles an NCAA investigation of Michael. Did Leigh Anne Tuohy push Michael toward Ole Miss, the school she and her husband attended? Did the Tuohys adopt Michael just to beef up Ole Miss' offensive line? Seems like a silly question, but it evidently was asked in real life.

In the movie version of the story -- based on The Blind Side: Evolution of a Game, a book by Michael Lewis -- Bullock transforms Michael from a gentle kid into a ferocious lineman. She arouses his protective instincts, telling him to imagine that the quarterback is like his brother and sister. He must do what's necessary to keep the QB from harm.

Perhaps to keep things real, Michael occasionally visits his old neighborhood. And there's an affecting scene in which Bullock -- all snap, crackle and southern pop -- visits Michael's mother (Adriane Lenox), a defeated woman whose life has been ruined by an addiction to crack cocaine.

In a way, the movie is less about Michael Oher -- who pretty much goes along with the program -- than it is about Leigh Ann Tuohy, which is not surprising since Bullock -- and the promise of wholesome entertainment -- constitutes the draw here. Aside from the wisecracking SJ, who offers comic relief, most of the Tuohy family gets short shrift.

Director John Lee Hancock hits all the right marks for a movie that's meant to keep audiences involved and happy, and, yes, The Blind Side easily could have been more challenging. For me, the words "crowd pleasing" aren't an inducement, so I'll just say that Blind Side will achieve its success without me doing any over-the-top cheerleading.

And one final question: I'm glad Oher found a way out of poverty, but who exactly reaches out to the young men who can't block and tackle? Where's their movie?