Nader and Simin: A Separation by Asghar Farhadi is the Iran-made candidate for Best Foreign Picture at the Academy Awards. Not only is it a superb film with nary a wasted shot, but actors Leila Hatami and Peyman Maadi (they won the Best Actor awards at the last Berlin Film Festival) give three-dimensional, wholly believable performances as the two sides of an acrimonious couple going through a sloppy divorce.

I am a sucker for spy movies. Whether it is the Bourne series, the revitalized Bond series or the Mission: Impossible series, and even though I have a love/hate relationship with the latter. The first one was really good with a lot of double-crossing and excellent action, but the second one was a train-wreck, from the script to John Woo’s over-the-top directing. And J.J. Abrams’s third film got the train back on the tracks

When Spielberg announced his plans for a “Tintin” movie, fans of the little Belgian reporter with the red pompadour—and that includes pretty much anyone who ever held a comic book—were thrilled. When they got to see the final product, less so. This big disappointment begs the question: Why ever did we expect otherwise? Why should we have thought that Spielberg, director of big American movies, action-packed and going off in loud

So, We Bought a Zoo is based on a true story about a single parent who brought his family back together again by buying a zoo--stop laughing. Did I mention it’s directed by Cameron Crowe (Almost Famous, Jerry Maguire), stars Matt Damon and Scarlett Johansson, and features an impressive musical score by Sigur Rós frontman Jónsi Birgisson? But then again, that storyline…hm, keep it up, you’ll need laughter to get through this schmaltzy dreck.

Glenn Close will be widely praised for her subtle work in Albert Nobbs, as the eponymous Irish woman surviving the nineteenth century disguised as a male waiter. Her performance nevertheless seems to be a classic case of undermugging (if one can have a classic case of something I just invented.) While I admire her willingness to try something so tranquil, the result is understated understatedness, which has a strange way of

I’ve seen The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo twice, now, in both the Swedish and Hollywood version. English doesn’t improve it. Given that it has the same flaw--a glacial, hard-to-edit first chapter shocked to life by a gripping second--it appears to be a problem with the story, or at least how the enormously popular Stieg Larsson best-seller travels to the screen. I prefer the Swedish version, starring Noomi Rapace to David Fincher’s

The most deliciously scabrous skit on the mid-nineties HBO comedy series “Mr. Show” was “The Dewey Awards,” which skewered the sanctimonious trend of rewarding A-list Hollywood actors for their “brave” portrayals of the autistic, the mentally retarded, and other less fortunate types. Those rankled by the sight of Dustin Hoffman and Tom Hanks playing these parts, rather than real-life challenged actors, could gasp in private delight at this long-delayed