There is no paucity of rags-to-riches losers-to-winners sports movies, and for some reason the last few years have produced more than their share. Inherent to the genre is the problem of investment and believability— does the film offer us credible, sympathetic characters and manufacture at least the impression of dramatic and competitive tension? It all comes down to whether or not the filmmaker can somehow present the story in a way that makes us feel like we don’t know the outcome, even though we do, and all too often either the director or the story—or both—can’t hold up to the challenge.

The excitement was palpable; the air so thick with anticipation that the lack of oxygen made me lightheaded. Hundreds of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle fans of all ages jammed the theatre. The lights dimmed. The TMNT logo filled the screen and a pandemonium of whistles, cheers, and screams broke forth. Unfortunately for the four heroes in a half shell, the pre-show was the most exciting part of this movie experience. Even if you accept the premise that Kevin Munroe wrote and directed TMNT out of sheer love for the four masked green guys, there is nothing about this feature that will ever take it beyond the realm of Saturday morning cereal-eating accompaniment. This should have been released straight to DVD.

Early on in Mira Nair’s The Namesake, a young Ashoke Ganguli is taking his annual trip from Calcutta to Delhi. In a cramped rail car, fellow traveler Ghosh asks him what he’s reading. It’s a collection of stories by Russian writer Nikolai Gogol. Ghosh asks Ganguli if he’s ever traveled, and the student replies that he’s been to Delhi many times. No, Ghosh says—has Ganguli ever lived abroad? It’s “like a dream,” he rhapsodizes. “That’s what books are for,” Ganguli counters, quoting the words of his grandfather—”to travel without moving an inch.” In her sixth full-length theatrical release, Nair delivers the strongest possible argument that films can do the same thing.

“If you can’t pay the debt,” says documentarian James Scurlock, “if the terms are too onerous—then it’s a bad debt. If it’s loaded with all sorts of time bombs that go off, terms and conditions that you don’t understand and devastate you, that’s bad debt. Yet people are told, ‘If it’s for education, it’s good debt. If it’s for a home, it’s good debt.’ That’s just not true. There are plenty of people who borrowed money for a wonderful education who find themselves still not being able to pay back the debt, and that debt never goes away. It’s not like there’s a statute of limitations, like we have with murder; it doesn’t go away after ten years. It’s not good debt.”

Karen Moncrieff may not be a well-known writer/director—yet. But her latest project, The Dead Girl, may just launch her name into the starry stratosphere. With a solid storyline deftly woven with several colorful strands, and an ensemble cast without a single weak link, The Dead Girl is, in my book, what Crash wanted to be when it grew up. The separate themes of each person’s potential connection to the dead girl are adroitly and powerfully brought together by Moncrieff to become an intricate, painstaking, well-woven story, which is less about the girl who is dead than the people who remain alive.

There are times that I am fortunate enough to have a really outstanding movie hit my screening rotation, which can and does present a major frustration: after only seeing the movie once, I am expected to write a sound, knowledgeable review. Premonition is such a film—one I would have ecstatically—even gratefully—sat through a second or even a third time. While it isn’t perfect, the movie is visceral and multi-leveled, evoking a wide-range of emotion, and showcasing Sandra Bullock’s dramatic talent. Both the electrifying script and the skillful direction have given Bullock a place to display her expertise in very strong and satisfying ways.

If the chance to see and hear Gina Torres talk dirty to the camera is your idea of a randy dandy time, then I Think I Love My Wife might be just the thing for you. Otherwise, you might just find yourself thinking, “I Think I Hate This Movie.” There’s not much here that’s actually funny, poignant, or revealing, and I’m not sure writer/director Chris Rock as Richard Cooper ever demonstrates much love. And the narration Rock writes for himself demonstrates a lack of confidence in his ability to tell the story he has written and filmed, particularly when the voiceover goes conspicuously AWOL as the story (that’s the story) reaches its climax.

If you wander into 300 expecting a historically accurate examination of the Battle of Thermopylae, you will probably be disappointed. However, if you wander in expecting a visually dazzling action flick—think Die Hard in ancient Greece—you will probably walk out exhilarated. The battle scenes are exciting, the visuals are stunning, and the pacing is relentless. Director Zack Snyder, along with 300’s graphic novelist Frank Miller, admits to not concerning himself with historical accuracy, and focusing instead on creating a fast-paced, visually stunning action film, and in doing so may inspire other filmmakers to create more visually extravagant action films. With this new CGI-enhanced method of filmmaking, the possibilities are endless.

“Film is an artform, but it’s also a business,” says Stockman. “A film that goes unwatched can’t give anybody a message about anything; and a film that focuses so much on message that it fails to be entertaining is going to go unwatched. So the truth is that I made Two Weeks because I thought it made a great dramatic story about a family, in a way that I hadn’t seen told before. So my first and most important goal is to entertain people and give them an experience in the theatre that they’ve never had. And if I succeed there, I’m going to be very happy.”

“You don’t begin to live until you’ve lost everything,” says Red Stevens, the billionaire in The Ultimate Gift, before his death. His grandson, Jason, is a spoiled twenty-something with a trust fund, who has never worked a day in his life. Still, Red always saw something in Jason. He saw the fire—the same fire he saw in his son, Jason’s father, who died when Jason was just a boy. This is why Red is bequeathing Jason what he calls “the ultimate gift,” while stiffing—as they see it—the rest of his money-hungry heirs. Jason doesn’t just receive this gift, however. He has to work for it.