Cinematical Seven »

I think it's safe to tell you, without spoiling the movie, that The Men Who Stare at Goats includes a couple of scenes with Jeff Bridges and George Clooney dancing around. The scenes are amusing and a little strange -- why are soldiers dancing? But they did fit consistently with the film as a whole. However, I was reminded of moments in movies that aren't musicals, but suddenly shift to some crazy kind of dance or musical number. I love these moments, and in fact I wish the dance scenes in The Men Who Stare at Goats were a little less toned-down and a little more "WTF?"

Okay, I'm kind of BS'ing you here. The Men Who Stare at Goats is a flimsy excuse. I really just wanted to write about surreal dance numbers in otherwise straightforward movies, because that can be so much fun. Last year's Adam Sandler vehicle Bedtime Stories was an annoying dud ... except for one glorious, shining moment where Guy Pearce launched into a song-and-dance number. Sometimes these dance moments are the best part of a movie, sometimes they spoil the mood and sometimes they're just one more weird aspect of an altogether bizarre film. Here are seven of my favorites.

We live in a time when war movies based on toys (Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen, G.I. Joe: The Rise of Cobra) are better received by the public than those that have a basis in truth (The Hurt Locker). G.I. Joe: The Rise of Cobra, out on DVD and Blu-ray today, dances around its origins as military action figures by positioning its heroes as an elite unit, more like well-armed spies than anything resembling common soldiers. The aim appears to be similar, though: provide heroic figures that inspire others to follow in their footsteps.

Back in the 80s, movies that could be mistaken for recruitment propaganda became surprisingly common. The film industry, which had firmly resisted anything related directly to the Vietnam War while it was being waged, became schizophrenic in the 80s, releasing anti-war and pro-war flicks side by side into theaters. Here are seven key films, listed chronologically, that helped shape the public's perception of the military during that decade.

Private Benjamin (1980)
Nancy Meyers began here, co-writing and co-producing the tale of Judy Benjamin (Goldie Hawn), a bride who wears black after her husband (Albert Brooks) dies on their wedding night. A spoiled woman-child, Judy enlists in the armed forces; basic training toughens her up as she realizes she can deal with the rigors of military life. As a budding feminist, she still had miles to go to learn that she didn't need a man or the military to be all she could be; as a poster child for plucky women in the armed forces, Private Benjamin was a positive-reinforcement milestone.

Let's face it, your the hero of your movie is only as good as your villain is bad. If you've got an amazing, swashbuckling, ass-kicking hero who faces off against someone wimpy, it just feels like you had an amazing appetizer and a lackluster main course. We want villains that we love to hate, not villains that we hate to love, and once we find them, we don't want to let go of them so easily. Just look at how much Darth Vader has dominated the world of villainy. He was in four of the six Star Wars movies, and is still pretty much the poster-boy for awesome villains.

But what about the villains who could have joined him? There's a whole slew of sub-villains who weren't given enough screen time, or were killed off too easily. Villains who deserve to roam the hallowed halls of the bad guys and girls club. We dedicate this Cinematical Seven to those who could have been great, but are instead relegated to the ranks of the Almost Perfect Villains Club.

Darth Maul

Speaking of Star Wars, Did this guy get a bad rap or what? He a Dark Lord of the Sith for pete's sake, yet he hardly talks, zips around on a scooter, and gets killed at the end of the only movie he appears in. He does kill Obi Wan's mentor, sure, but why not keep him around for later? He looked scary and cool at the same time, and wielded very cool double-ended saber. Plus, Ray Park did a kickass job playing him and making those fight scenes look amazing. Unfortunately, one chop to the midsection and he was never heard from again. Darth Vader went on to become a legend, but Darth Maul only became "that guy with the red face and the horns," and no one is rushing to make a movie about his origins. The Star Wars saga actually has a plethora of great villains we would like to see more of: Jabba the Hutt, Grand Moff Tarkin, Boba Fett, IG-88, and more.

I'm sure Peter Sarsgaard didn't intend to make a horror movie that would provoke gales of unintentional laughter. Yet in a key, emotionally-wrought scene near the end of Orphan -- out on DVD today and, perversely enough, worth a rental -- that's exactly what happens; by that point, the film's determination to take itself way too seriously has worn down the viewer, and its lunatic premise collapses upon itself. Sarsgaard bravely goes down with the ship, as does Vera Farmiga, two talented actors that were better than their material.

How do good actors end up in bad movies? The same way some of us end up in jobs we hate: (1) It sounded better than it turned out; (2) Gotta pay the bills. Sometimes they liven up the movie (The Devil's Advocate wouldn't be nearly as much fun without Al Pacino's self-parodying scenery-chewing) and sometimes they look befuddled that they ended up in such a turkey (Robert Downey, Jr. in Gothika, Zooey Deschanel in The Happening). We salute those who gave it their best shot, and ask the rest: what were you thinking?

1. Jon Voight in Anaconda
Intentionally cheesy or merely undone by cheap CGI? This tale of a film crew seeking to document a mysterious tribe of Amazonian natives is a rather tepid and poorly-executed horror adventure until Voight lends it a jolt of electricity as a jungle guide with an accent that's never been heard before. While decent actors like Eric Stoltz and Owen Wilson look like they're ready to cash their paychecks and go home, the Academy Award-winning Voight nearly saves the picture with his larger-than-life theatrics. That's entertainment!

We love it when our heroes fall for the suspicious types: the wolves in sheep's clothing, the dangerous femme fatales. It happens often in film noir and a heckuva lot in comics, and provides some of the best last-act twists and turns as our hearts palpitate along with those of our protagonists... up until the bitter end. Can't that evil love interest turn out to have a heart of gold, so we can all have a happily ever after? Sometimes, yes. Most of the time, no.

What is it about these doomed romances that we love so much? Perhaps it's the futility of it all; you can't have your cake and eat it when you're a superhero or a (wo)man on a mission to right wrongs, even if you'd rather be kissing that beguiling bad guy than fighting them, arresting them, or foiling their evil plans. Turning down a chance at love is the ultimate sacrifice for a hero or heroine to make -- it proves their commitment to the side of good. Hence, loving a villain makes a hero even more heroic. How tragic!

In what will surely spur controversy, I've whittled my favorite villain-hero romances down to the seven best pairings in cinema. No, Phantom of the Opera didn't make it. That would have been too easy. Instead, find odd couples, would-be perfect pairs, star-crossed lovers, and yes, the world's most legendary bromance after the jump.

As the film prepares to take flight tomorrow, reviews are starting to pour in for Hilary Swank's Amelia. It's quite the mixed bag, from Roger Ebert's praise to Keith Uhlich's description of the film as a "colorfully hollow biopic about America's beloved aviatrix." Should more chime in with Ebert's positivity, the film could get decent buzz, but as it stands while writing this on Thursday afternoon, out of 13 reviews, it's got a paltry 23% fresh rating.

The negative sentiments aren't really a surprise. The early pictures of the film weren't exactly promising, and the trailer induced skeptical responses. But rather than rant about dreams of Amelia Earhart getting one of those biopics that mesmerizes from the get-go, I'm going to try and stay positive. Not every biopic has to struggle to find footing. In fact, some manage to capture the magic of their subject and make for a damn fine film.

Catch seven of my favorites after the jump, and since such a small number can't begin to cover them all, please weigh in with your own in the comments.

This month is all about villains on Cinematical, and thankfully, October seems flush with folks who fit the bill: horror movies, often released in anticipation (if not exploitation) of Halloween, usually offer at least one person, creature or entity that qualifies as an adversary to be fled from or feared. But the sad truth is that not a whole lot of them have particularly great theme music, which brings us to this week's Cinematical Seven.

To be fair, these folks don't often have the luxury of choosing said music themselves, so if they get a crappy rock song or some kind of dumbass lullabye, it's not their fault. But after revisiting a number of classic horror series and the movie monsters they immortalized, we've put together what we think is a pretty good collection of themes that folks can and will still find scary. (And while some of this music may or may not be specifically associated with the individual character or creature, the guideline to which we held ourselves was the association of the music with that particular monster.)

Suffice it to say there are a number of other great horror movie themes, and we're just scratching the surface with a list of seven, but check our list of some of the most famous, memorable, and yeah, terrifying, with or without some dude in a mask bearing down on the bathroom door where you've found temporary safe haven.

Chinese-American actress Bai Ling had her breakout role in 1997's Red Corner, a courtroom drama in which she defended Richard Gere from a corrupt government trial – romancing him, naturally, along the way. But since then, Ling has played a streak of bad girls and scantily-clad seductresses that put her equally-sensual public persona front and center, in films ranging from Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow to this year's Crank: High Voltage. Even in her latest film, the independent drama A Beautiful Life, Ling plays a stripper – albeit one with a heart of gold.

Some might argue that her career choices lean toward female objectification, and they wouldn't be wrong. But there's something wholly empowered about the way Bai Ling tackles her film roles. Sure, she's played her fair share of strippers, prostitutes, and femme fatales, but does it matter if she totally owns and embraces those characters more given in to their carnal impulses?

After the jump, Bai Ling names her favorite Bai Ling love scenes of all time.

Reading about movies, you hear stories of some films shot in five days and other films shot over three years. Some of the poverty-row directors and B-movie makers cranked out as many movies as they could during a calendar year, while filmmakers like Charlie Chaplin and Stanley Kubrick waited years between projects (making each release a new "event"). Most filmmakers, I think, given the chance would probably release one film per year, keeping their toes in without burning out. But sometimes, whether it's a trick of the calendar, or some peculiar rhythms of timing, some of the greatest directors manage to release two films per year. And even less often, both of these films turn out great. The following is my not-exactly-extensive, but enthusiastic celebration of the one-two punch or the director's double-whammy.

1. Jacques Tourneur: I Walked with a Zombie and The Leopard Man (1943)
The world has frankly been a better place to live since Warner Home Video released the five-disc, nine-film DVD "Val Lewton Horror Collection" box set in 2005. I have often promised myself that, if ever en route to a desert island, it would be the first thing I'd grab (provided that said island came with its own entertainment system). Four directors worked on those nine great horror films (counting poor Gunther von Fritsch, a footnote in film history for being too slow, getting fired from The Curse of the Cat People, and thus launching Robert Wise's career). But Jacques Tourneur -- son of silent era filmmaker Maurice Tourneur -- is undoubtedly the most talented of the group. He started the cycle with the extraordinary Cat People in 1942, and followed it with this one-two punch in April and May of the following year. Sure, they're cheap, quickly-made B-movies, but few films have ever been made -- in any genre, for any price -- with so much textured atmosphere and such a resounding sense of dreamy dread.