From Indy to Caspian, theaters are packed with people anticipating exciting effects, heroes in peril, witty repartee, and crowd-pleasing endings. So how does a relatively “smaller” film—one with only one big star, little advance buzz, and not as much money spent on production… although quite a bit, still—get a summer audience? Make it 3D! And make it PG, too so that it can be a family event. In Journey to the Center of the Earth, Brendan Fraser slips into his well-used Mummy “scientist accidentally roped in to an adventure” bit and heads up this (actually) fairly entertaining jaunt into Jules Verne’s imagination. Oh… and it’s in 3D!

It’s hard to say too much about the film itself; it’s probably enough just to simply observe that it’s a worthy addition to the Hoop Dreams legacy. But Gunnin’ For That #1 Spot confirms that not much has changed since 1994, and it does so in an updated fashion that will probably appeal to teens a great deal more than adults. Thankfully, Yauch himself has the good sense to stay entirely out of the way, except to oversee the excellent and well-utilized soundtrack… which naturally includes several Beastie Boys compositions. I like Yauch’s aesthetic sensibilities, and I admire his open-minded approach to his subject here. It’s not bottled lightning, but it’s an outstanding alternative to a summer film lineup filled with bloated, over-written, and under-edited blockbusters. Then again, I’m probably just a sucker for basketball docs. I mentioned that already, didn’t I?

Canet and his editor have done a fine job of presenting a movie that is taut, thrilling, suspenseful, and romantic while maintaining cohesiveness and movement. The movie is a bit over two hours long but never lags or makes the viewer aware that any time is important—except within the context of the story. The first thing that Canet does really well is to give his audience the real Paris, not the touristy postcard version. Beck finds himself in all kinds of company as he tries to hunt for Margot while staying out of the hands of the police. The viewer is introduced to the areas of Paris where gang activity is the norm and everyone seems to be armed to the teeth and not afraid to pepper an area with bullets at the slightest provocation. Too bad this film will only have a limited run in art house theaters. It is a real treat!

The original gonzo journalist, Hunter S. Thompson was a driven man, and—as his friends and lovers and colleagues claim in this documentary, subtitled The Life and Work of Dr. Hunter S. Thompson—a man who could be soft, loving, romantic, and kind one moment and then hell-on-wheels crazy the next. Not one person from George McGovern to Pat Buchanan to Kurt Vonnegut to Jimmy Carter can help but shake their heads and say, with a wry smile, that Hunter S. Thompson was a crazy and unique kind of person. What director Gibney does well in this film is balance the “sane” Hunter with the “insane” Hunter so cunningly that you won’t likely leave the theater thinking that such a travesty of a human being has nothing to tell us. I find myself strangely drawn to discover more about the man.

Like the original film, though, the key to Hellboy 2’s success is Ron Perlman. Far from a movie star, Perlman is one of those character actors whom you instantly recognize—and yet you would be hard pressed to name any of their previous film work off the top of your head. I’ve recently recommended the original film to some friends based on Perlman’s performance alone, and I’ll make the same recommendation for this film. I don’t expect this film to shatter any boxoffice records or become an instant classic; but for those who get a thrill from special effects and screwball action, this is just the right fit for you. I can’t think of a single scene in Hellboy 2 that appears to be there just to show off the director’s new tricks—unlike the entire first act of Pirates 2, for instance. Now, this may have something to do with the fact that Hellboy was not a runaway success; but I’m still thankful for the attention that Del Toro has paid to the characters and plot development.

It may be only about a third of the way into the movie, but when one character comments that “this planet continues to reveal its ugly nature,” you might be convinced he is speaking about this film. It doesn’t take long to realize that this is a third-rate comedy at best. The film stars Eddie Murphy, an actor who is desperate for a comeback and looking in all the wrong places to find one. What happened to Murphy? I have to go back nearly ten years to find a non-animated comedy that I truly enjoyed him in (Bowfinger). His only great performance in this decade in which he didn’t play a Donkey was in 2006’s Dreamgirls—which seemed to be just what his career needed, only to be followed by Norbit and this disaster, both directed by Brian Robbins.

Werner Herzog, with one cameraman, headed to Antarctica under a scientific grant, and jokes as he narrates that he warned those footing the bill that this would not be another film about penguins. Rather, he wanted to answer questions of human nature: what drives people to come to this frigid and desolate continent and what will their discoveries uncover? He loathes the “camp” he must stay at, calling it a “dirty mining town”—and yes, it is ugly—yet if he were out to make a film about natural Antarctica, why does he spend so much time following these “loathsome” humans around? These are quirky people, to be sure; but Herzog’s narration puts him squarely outside of that pool, as if he is the only one that really respects the earth, the only one there with pure motives. Unfortunately his attitude makes some of the film, and what it hoped to do, off-putting.

Writer-director Jason Freeland’s little-seen 1998 debut Brown’s Requiem—based on a novel by L.A. Confidential author James Ellroy—earned a couple of film festival awards, suggesting that Freeland may have a bright future in this business. Yet here it is ten years later, and he has just now released his follow-up… and unfortunately I must admit that this film isn’t going to get any play on the awards circuit. The main problem with Garden Party is that the plot just seems to be all over the map. The key to seemingly unstructured Altman films like Nashville is that they really do have a structure. Garden Party is filled with scenes that just don’t seem to fit with the rest of the plot, or seem like rushed plot devices. Freeland appears to have high aspirations for this film, but it unfortunately fails to break free of its low-budget trappings. It’s hard to recommend a film whose best feature is its poster.

There’s no doubt that Levine recreates a reality here that his memory knows quite well. It’s a memory that’s just too in love with itself. Levine might do better to direct someone else’s scripts, or to let someone else direct his own. There’s some iron here that needs to be sharpened by other iron, not just dotingly caressed. It’s likely, though, that a good deal of my reaction to The Wackness is just an inbred resistance to personal tales of New York City. I’ve felt equally cool about a good string of them over the last couple of years: Ira and Abby, The Hottest State, Day Zero, and The Treatment, for instance. The ones I’ve particularly liked—The Visitor and Bella—have shown me something really new about New York, and have had a developed sense of the wider world. Most New York tales, it strikes me, are just too in love with New Yorkers and not in love enough with people (or the world) in general.

During the luncheon, two youngsters turn up looking for work. “Let them go hungry,” one of the neighbors recommends. “It’s the only way to keep them out of town.” Kit’s mom, though, can’t find it in her heart to turn the two hobo orphans away. “They’re someone else’s boys, too,” she observes. Moments such as these—of which there are many in Kit Kittredge—are among the film’s pleasant surprises. First and foremost, one doesn’t necessarily expect a great deal of social consciousness from a film franchise built on an “experiential retail” empire whose cornerstone is dolls that sell in excess of $100… and require manicures and visits to the salon. So it warms the heart, somewhat, to see that decent, human values are being communicated by a corporate enterprise. I haven’t found a period family film so appealing since Iron Will.