DVD of the Week
The Webslinger's third outing makes the common threequel mistake of piling on too many super-villains (in this case the Sandman, another Green Goblin, and alien tar-baby Venom), too many superheroes and way, way too much soap opera. As an FX blow-out, S3 is hard to beat. But the drama creaks, particularly when Kirsten Dunst is throwing a hissy fit over Bryce Dallas Howard. With cast commentary.
This Hector Lavoe biopic was doomed from the moment the words "Jennifer" and "Lopez" were attached, but judiciously fast-forwarding to Marc Anthony's dynamic musical performances says everything worth knowing about the smack-addicted salsero. Skip the movie, get the soundtrack. Deleted scenes and docs.
Mandy Moore and The Office's John Krasinski want to wed, but first they have to endure a "marriage preparation course" run by maniac priest Robin Williams. The result is a comedy so broad one wonders if it was designed specifically for audiences in the most isolated region of the Himalayas, if not hell itself.
Any movie that Richard Roeper thinks is the worst he's ever seen must have something going for it. That something is writer/star Luke Wilson and his brother Owen, playing an ex-con man and the sleazy hotel owner who leads him astray respectively. Shot in the bros' Austin hometown, it coasts on their wry, pre-suicide-attempt humor.
The smash Watch series is basically the Russian answer to Star Wars, except with vampires. The follow-up to 2004's Night Watch is sumptuous eye-borscht with zero nutritional value and includes stunts even Milla Jovovich would find improbable. The Russians love it, and so will anybody waiting for the next Underworld movie.
Don Cheadle (Hotel Rwanda) could read My Name is Charlotte Simmons aloud and still make it interesting. Here he plays Petey Green, an ex-con turned radio loudmouth who bore witness to Washington, D.C. in the Chocolate City 1960s. Cheadle nails it, and director Kasi Lemmons shows a keen eye for the period.
Anybody who can't find Darfur on a map is advised to watch this searing documentary, which explains the genocide there through the eyes of an ex-Marine peacekeeper. Brian Steidle not only witnessed hell on earth, but fought to bring it to the world's attention. Meanwhile, Ellen is crying about her dog.
When academic Charles Ferguson wanted to make a movie about the origins of the mess in Iraq, he used his think tank credentials to get access to Bush admin insiders. It gave him a primer on government incompetence that sometimes seems like something the Marx Brothers might have dreamed up. Sickening.
Moe, Larry and Curly reduced humor to its bare essence - a fistful of nyuks and twisted noses - then elevated it with inept ballets that inspired Ben Stiller's mugging and Will Ferrell's pratfalls today. These 19 Depression-era shorts may look no fresher than they did in many a Gen Xer's televisual memory, but the laffs are priceless. No joke: includes the Oscar-nominated 1934 gasbag "Men in Black."
It only lasted 19 episodes, but this 1994-1995 series became intensely influential, thanks to the casting of unknowns Claire Danes and Jared Leto and an intelligent appreciation of teen lives. Buffy creator Joss Whedon tips his hat to Life in the accompanying book. Other extras include two Danes interviews and a 1995 roundtable discussion on the flop that's become a TV landmark.
Hovito's 1996 debut remains his benchmark, even if it was overshadowed by the chart reign that followed. Kanye West, Mary J. Blige, and Irv Gotti are among those paying tribute in VH1 Classic's look at Sean Carter's rise, which could benefit from more input from Jay-Z and his discarded cohort, Damon Dash.
Not interesting because hootenanny versions of songs like "Who Killed Davey Moore?" are all that compelling, but because it charts Dylan's evolution from fresh-faced folk pretender to the electric turncoat who made Pete Seeger want to cut the power in 1965. A time capsule from when the future wore flannel.
While the rest of the world was partying like it was 1999 (because it was), all was not well with Prince. This New Year's Eve gig is an ADD-version of his career, flitting through hits like "Purple Rain" and "Let's Go Crazy," marred by His Purpleness' newfound religious mania and the presence of Lenny Kravitz.
Sinclair managed the MC5, led Detroit's White Panther Party, and was rescued from serving 10 years for pot possession after John Lennon wrote a song about him. Now based in Amsterdam, the middle-aged insurrectionist is front-and-center here, and proves to be an engaging guide through the 1960s flame-out.
Queen captured in their 1982 pomp - right before the penny dropped with American jocks that Freddie "Galileo!" Mercury played for the other side. The hits are here, but the band seem uneasy with their transition from hard rockers to MTV pop act. With commentary from Brian May and Roger Taylor.