At last: The long-delayed, ambivalently anticipated, Viggo Mortensen-intensive adaptation of Cormac McCarthy’s Pulitzer Prize-winning novel, about a man and his young son wandering through a glumly gritty post-apocalyptic world, opens in Santa Fe. And just in time to kick off the holiday season!

Having honed his directing skills this long, Eastwood is probably incapable of making a completely terrible movie—although he can certainly make a boring one.  Invictus is not a standard sports movie, but it is not much more subtle than a standard sports movie.

Like so much Hollywood product these days, Brothers is a remake—in this case, of a Danish melodrama that was released in the US in 2005. In preparation for the new version, I looked up some reviews of the original—which I hadn’t seen—and discovered I had in fact seen it.

The Santa Fe Film Festival boasts steeply heightened standards this year; as a result, the number of films dropped from last year’s 250 to fewer than 150 this year. The powers that be at the SFFF have hopes that the festival will soon be as well-known and respected as its cousins Sundance, Toronto and Telluride, and the upped standards reflect this shift in mind-set.

SFR's editor and copy editor hit the latest Twilight movie and develop a serious fantasy. A Twitter fantasy, but stil...

A partial list of things destroyed in Roland Emmerich’s majestically shameless end-of-the-world movie 2012: The curator of the Louvre (non-accidental Parisian-tunnel car wreck). Mayan calendar cultists. The entire Los Angeles freeway system (ibid). The city of Los Angeles proper. And that's just the beginning.

On paper, The Men Who Stare at Goats sounds like a winner. As Bill Django, Jeff Bridges revisits his The Big Lebowski Dude persona to play a love-bead-draped, bearded, über-groovy alt.soldier who believes psychic communication and dancing can win hearts and minds better than guns and bombs.

A Serious Man is the third straight film from the Coen Brothers—after No Country for Old Men and Burn After Reading—to repeat the same gag, with increasing mirth and finality: Don’t look down because there isn’t anything there.

This is going to hurt you a lot more than it’s going to hurt me: Where the Wild Things Are was never one of my cherished childhood talismans. I was a nervous kid, and never embraced the idea of traveling to a land where great furry beasties could crown and/or eat me.

Early on in Couples Retreat, Vince Vaughn’s character finds himself in a housewares store, where his young son has used a toilet meant only for display. “There’s not a lot to say,” Vaughn says. That’s pretty much what it’s like to review Couples Retreat. When confronted with an exasperating, almost cute, innocently impolite public excretion, the strong temptation is just to let the act speak for itself and quickly withdraw.