C Movie Reviews

Split pants, bad breath, and time travel are just part of the nonsense the animated sponge and his undersea buddies are up to in this installment of the popular Nickelodeon series. The cheerfully inept SpongeBob splits his pants while hoisting marshmallows in a weightlifting competition, to the amusement of the crowd. So if it's funny once, it must be funny five times, right? Next, Squidward gets trapped in the Krusty Krab freezer and time travels to a future of Spongetrons and back to a prehistoric SpongeBob and Patrick--not a pretty sight. There's also a cure for Sandy the squirrel's homesickness for Texas, underwater ghost stories when SpongeBob and Squidward work the night shift, and the sponge's aforementioned sea onion breath in this 10-episode compilation. Don't look for any double-entendres to amuse the parents here; this two-hour collection of goofing around is strictly for kids, ages 4 to 10. --Kimberly Heinrichs

It had to happen: A national tour of redneck comedians culminating in this frequently funny concert film, shot in Phoenix. Ron White's scotch-and-tobacco-fueled, fatalistic world view gets things off to a good start. ("That last engine had just enough power to get us to our crash site.") Larry the Cable Guy's creepy-silly persona helps deliver a set long on gross-out humor. ("I've been seein' a good-lookin' girl. But now I lost my binoculars.") Bill Engvall balances the tone with his family-man shtick. ("There needs to be a teenage driver's lane lined with tires and mattresses.") Main event champ Jeff Foxworthy offers fresh material about the act of ice-fishing as an out-of-body experience for fish, describes the bizarre sight of a leaf blower among items confiscated by airport security and, of course, renders his trademark re-re-re-definitions of what constitutes a redneck ("a glorious absence of sophistication"). Lots to enjoy here. --Tom Keogh

It had to happen: A national tour of redneck comedians culminating in this frequently funny concert film, shot in Phoenix. Ron White's scotch-and-tobacco-fueled, fatalistic world view gets things off to a good start. ("That last engine had just enough power to get us to our crash site.") Larry the Cable Guy's creepy-silly persona helps deliver a set long on gross-out humor. ("I've been seein' a good-lookin' girl. But now I lost my binoculars.") Bill Engvall balances the tone with his family-man shtick. ("There needs to be a teenage driver's lane lined with tires and mattresses.") Main event champ Jeff Foxworthy offers fresh material about the act of ice-fishing as an out-of-body experience for fish, describes the bizarre sight of a leaf blower among items confiscated by airport security and, of course, renders his trademark re-re-re-definitions of what constitutes a redneck ("a glorious absence of sophistication"). Lots to enjoy here. --Tom Keogh

Isao Takahata's powerful antiwar film has been praised by critics wherever it has been screened around the world. When their mother is killed in the firebombing of Tokyo near the end of World War II, teenage Seita and his little sister Setsuko are left on their own: their father is away, serving in the Imperial Navy. The two children initially stay with an aunt, but she has little affection for them and resents the time and money they require. The two children set up housekeeping in a cave by a stream, but their meager resources are quickly exhausted, and Seita is reduced to stealing to feed his sister. Despite his efforts, she succumbs to malnutrition. Seita painfully makes his way back to the devastated city where he quietly dies in a crowded railway station.

The strength of the film lies in Takahata's evenhanded portrayal of the characters. A sympathetic doctor, the greedy aunt, the disinterested cousins all know there is little they can do for Seita and Setsuko. Their resources, like their country's, are already overtaxed: anything they spare endangers their own survival. As in the Barefoot Gen films, no mention is made of Japan's role in the war as an aggressor; but the depiction of the needless suffering endured by its victims transcends national and ideological boundaries. --Charles Solomon

In the same year that he directed a handsome version of The Scarlet Pimpernel for television, Clive Donner also made this worthy 1984 small-screen production of the Dickens tale. George C. Scott can't quite muster a decent English accent, but he does bring some new colors to this movie's interpretation of Scrooge, making the character less nasty for the sake of nastiness and more a product of a life of lovelessness. The supporting cast is first-rate, and the production is far more handsome than most TV fare. --Tom Keogh

Director Frank Capra (Mr. Smith Goes to Washington) took home every Oscar in the book (well, okay, all the major ones) for this seminal 1934 comedy starring Clark Gable as a hard-bitten reporter who stays close to a runaway heiress (Claudette Colbert) rather than lose a good story. Funny and sexy, the film is full of memorable scenes often referred to in other films, such as the "walls of Jericho" (a mere bedcover hung on a line down the middle of a room so opposite-sex roommates can get undressed), and Colbert's famous flash of thigh to stop a speeding car in its tracks. Capra's brisk, urbane brand of wit was a perfect complement to his populist faith in the common man (in this case, Gable's character), and that inspired combination makes this film both a spirited entertainment and an uplifting experience. --Tom Keogh

Paul Newman shines as cocky poolroom hustler "Fast" Eddie Felson in Robert Rossen's atmospheric adaptation of the Walter Tevis novel. Newman's Felson is a swaggering pool shark punk who takes on the king of the poolroom, Minnesota Fats (a cool, assured Jackie Gleason in his most understated performance). After losing big and crashing into a void of self-pity, Eddie meets down-and-out Sarah (Piper Laurie in a delicate performance), an alcoholic blue blood who's dropped into Eddie's world of dingy bars and seedy poolrooms. Eddie regains his confidence and attracts the attention of a shifty, calculating promoter, Bert Gordon (George C. Scott at his most heartless), who offers to bring Eddie into the big money--but at what cost? Rossen brings his film to life with the easy pace of a pool game, giving his actors room to explore their characters and develop into a razor-sharp ensemble. Eugen Schüfftan earned an Academy Award for his shadowing black-and-white cinematography, as did art directors Harry Horner and Gene Callahan for their deceivingly simple set designs. Even in the daylight this film seems to be smothered by night, lit by the dim glow of a bar lamp or the overhead glare of a pool-table light, an appropriate environment for this tale of one man's struggle with his soul and his self-esteem. Newman returned as an older, wiser, cagier Felson 25 years later in Martin Scorsese's Color of Money. --Sean Axmaker

You won't need a bottle of rum to enjoy Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl, especially if you've experienced the Disneyland theme-park ride that inspired it. There's a galleon's worth of fun in watching Johnny Depp's androgynous performance as Captain Jack Sparrow, a roguish pirate who could pass for the illegitimate spawn of rockers Keith Richards and Chrissie Hynde. Depp gets all the good lines and steals the show, recruiting Orlando Bloom (a blacksmith and expert swordsman) and Keira Knightley (a lovely governor's daughter) on an adventurous quest to recapture the notorious Black Pearl, a ghost ship commandeered by Jack's nemesis Capt. Barbossa (Geoffrey Rush), a mutineer desperate to reverse the curse that left him and his (literally) skeleton crew in a state of eternal, undead damnation. Director Gore Verbinski (The Ring) repeats the redundant mayhem that marred his debut film Mouse Hunt, but with the writers of Shrek he's made Pirates into a special-effects thrill-ride that plays like a Halloween party on the open seas. Aye, matey, we've come a long way since Jason and the Argonauts! --Jeff Shannon

You won't need a bottle of rum to enjoy Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl, especially if you've experienced the Disneyland theme-park ride that inspired it. There's a galleon's worth of fun in watching Johnny Depp's androgynous performance as Captain Jack Sparrow, a roguish pirate who could pass for the illegitimate spawn of rockers Keith Richards and Chrissie Hynde. Depp gets all the good lines and steals the show, recruiting Orlando Bloom (a blacksmith and expert swordsman) and Keira Knightley (a lovely governor's daughter) on an adventurous quest to recapture the notorious Black Pearl, a ghost ship commandeered by Jack's nemesis Capt. Barbossa (Geoffrey Rush), a mutineer desperate to reverse the curse that left him and his (literally) skeleton crew in a state of eternal, undead damnation. Director Gore Verbinski (The Ring) repeats the redundant mayhem that marred his debut film Mouse Hunt, but with the writers of Shrek he's made Pirates into a special-effects thrill-ride that plays like a Halloween party on the open seas. Aye, matey, we've come a long way since Jason and the Argonauts! --Jeff Shannon