"Juno Who?" "Juno a Great Movie to See?"

Movie Review: JUNO
Rating: *** 1/2 (three and 1/2 stars)

Major studios used to put their stamp on their films. From the 1930s through the ‘60s you could tell whether a movie was from MGM, Fox, Paramount, Warner Bros., Universal, Columbia or Disney. Now these studios are just distribution machines for product from smaller production entities - they make deals, not movies - and their distinctive characteristics are just a memory.

This occurred to me while watching "Juno," because it had to come from the company that released "Napoleon Dynamite" and "Little Miss Sunshine," to name just two. They may not produce them all but a certain consistency of taste is evident in the films they choose to pick up.

"Juno" is about teen pregnancy, which suggests a combination of "Superbad" and "Knocked Up." It even has one of the stars of "Superbad." But while "Juno" won't win any awards for tastefulness - I was surprised to see a PG-13 rating at the end - it's not in the raunch-for-raunch's-sake category either.

This will be the movie to get attention, if not awards, for Ellen Page, who was so good in "Hard Candy" she made the men who saw it afraid to vote for her. She plays 16-year-old Juno MacGuff, who is introduced going into a convenience store for her third pregnancy test of the day. Clerk Rainn Wilson tells her, "Your eggo is preggo."

I'd better warn you that everybody talks like this. For a while it's touch and go as to whether the cleverness overload is going to become cloying, but wit and originality prevail and either it lets up or we get used to it. If they gave awards strictly for dialogue, not just for overall screenplays, "Juno" would have to win. It may win anyway, and it was written by a former stripper known as Diablo Cody. Wannabe screenwriters are going to practice taking their clothes off when they see this!

So Juno's pregnant, the result of an impulsive evening she orchestrated with her best male friend, Paulie Bleeker (Michael Cera). "So what was it like," asks her best female friend, Leah (Olivia Thirlby), "humpin' Bleek's bony bod?"

Juno's not large - yet - but she's in charge, making all her own decisions for better or worse. Her first impulse is to get an abortion but a visit to the clinic ("We need to know about every score and every sore") changes her mind. When she decides to have the baby and put it up for adoption, Leah finds ads from childless couples in the PennySaver. Juno rejects "wholesome" parents in favor of "something edgier," like "a couple of nice Lesbos."

In the end she settles for Mark (Jason Bateman) and Vanessa Loring (Jennifer Garner), a well-off couple who live in a neighborhood where the houses are manicured to match the lawns. Juno bonds with Mark, a commercial jingle writer whose heart is still in his old rock band, over a love of music, even though he thinks 1993 was rock's best year and she thinks it was 1977.

Vanessa comes across as an uptight bee-otch at first, but a chance meeting at the mall makes Juno realize she'll be a good mother for her baby.

Somewhere in here Juno tells her father (J.K. Simmons) and stepmother (Allison Janney) about her condition and they're basically supportive, in their individual, often hilarious ways.

All this time you're LMAO - OK, LYAO - but you know things are going to have to turn more serious. That's where Cody's screenplay brilliantly dances its way through minefields, having planted most of the mines itself. Before you can say "Please don't go there" it doesn't, although it sure seemed like it was going to. It even has a touch of - dare I say it? - gravitas, just like the big, important screenplays.

Jason Reitman directed, and if there's any similarity, other than quality, between "Juno" and his debut film, "Thank You for Smoking," I didn't spot it.

The "Juno" lingo ("pork swords"?) is going to spread and it will be interesting to see which catchphrases emerge to become part of the lexicon. There are far too many possibilities to absorb in one sitting.

You can bet that some kids with abandonment issues are going to receive cacti next Valentine's Day, and "Juno" may pick up some nice things too, before February is over.

High-Flying Afghan Drama

Movie Review: THE KITE RUNNER
Rating: *** 1/2 (three and 1/2 stars)

"The Kite Runner," from the novel by Khaled Hosseini, is a wonderful story of friendship and cowardice that shows how a simple action - or inaction - can have ramifications decades later. It also puts human faces on news reports from Afghanistan by tracing that country's history over 20-plus years.

In San Francisco in 2000, Afghan-American Amir (Khalid Abdalla), whose first novel, "A Season for Ashes," has just been published, receives a phone call urging him to "come home."

In Kabul, Afghanistan, in 1978, young Amir (Zekiria Ebrahimi) is flying a kite with Hassan (Ahmad Khan Mahmoodzada), the son of his father, Baba's (Homayoun Ershadi) longtime servant, Ali (Nabi Tanha). Amir and Hassan are such close friends you may not be aware of the class differences between them until bullies led by Assef (Elham Ehsas) point it out, telling Amir a wealthy Pashtun shouldn't hang with a poor Hazara.

Baba fills in another aspect of the boys' relationship, lamenting to his friend Rahim Khan (Shaun Toub) that Hassan defends Amir, who won't stand up for himself and thus will grow up to be "a man who won't stand up for anything." Rahim Khan is more sympathetic to the 12-year-old's literary ambitions and less concerned about his lack of machismo.

Amir shames even himself when he witnesses Assef beating and raping Hassan and does nothing to help. He takes his self-contempt out on the doting Hassan, until Ali quits and takes the boy out of the household they've spent their life in.

When the Soviets invade Afghanistan in 1979 Baba, a vocal anti-Communist, takes Amir and flees to Pakistan. The story resumes in California in 1988 with Amir graduating from community college and Baba working in a gas station. At a flea market they run into General Taher (Abdul Qadir Farookh), who must have brought a portion of the treasury with him when he fled Afghanistan. He also brought his daughter, Soraya (Atossa Leoni), who quickly becomes the love of Amir's life.

After a big fat Afghan wedding and funeral the story returns to 2000 and Amir returns to Kabul by way of Pakistan. There Amir will learn the truth of Rahim Khan's saying, "There's a way to be good again," as he attempts to atone for the past while also observing how his native country is suffering under the Taliban, who have banned kite-flying and beardless men.

Director Marc Forster ("Monster's Ball," "Finding Neverland") does his best work yet on this multinational production, much of which was shot in China. David Benioff's screenplay condenses the novel without sacrificing its key points or emotional impact. The leitmotif of flying kites cues spectacular shots, some of them computer generated. (You were expecting a kitecam?)

Abdalla doesn't quite make the passive adult Amir interesting but his performance suits the character and the people around him make up for his lack as they reflect the diversity of Afghans, good and bad. The children are extraordinary, including Ali Danesh Bakhtyari, who figures in the film's final portion.

The dialogue moves back and forth between English and Dari, the Afghan dialect of Farsi. I'd guess more than 60 percent requires subtitles. Our immersion in the foreign culture is complete, but there's little that can't be understood by the most ignorant viewer (well, second most ignorant, after me).

"The Kite Runner" shows the resilience of some friendships over time and adversity and the resilience of some people under crushing political regimes. The personal story can be universally appreciated while its larger context will contribute to international understanding. This is simply one of the year's best pictures.

How Things Work: Washington Edition

Movie Review: CHARLIE WILSON'S WAR
Rating: *** (three stars)

In "Cast Away" Tom Hanks hung out with a volleyball he called Wilson. Now Hanks IS Wilson (but not a volleyball) in "Charlie Wilson's War." That may not sound like an upgrade unless you also consider that in "Saving Private Ryan" Hanks fought in World War II, and now he has his own war. Besides Hanks, only G.W. Bush can lay claim to that status symbol.

Seriously - sort of - you can earn a degree in Political Science without learning as much about how things work in Washington and around the world as you will from "Charlie Wilson's War." Aaron Sorkin's screenplay, based on George Crile's book about real events, is a hilarious account of how the U.S. stopped the Soviets in Afghanistan without ever appearing to take an active role. After all, there was a cold war going on and we couldn't disturb the status quo.

If Rep. Charles Wilson (D-TX) didn't exist Sorkin would have had to invent him. As it is he's probably been embellished considerably for entertainment's sake. Is anyone so good at multitasking that he can get briefed on international events from television in the middle of a Las Vegas orgy?

That's where, in 1980, "Good Time Charlie" Wilson (Hanks) begins to have his consciousness raised about the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan.

Back in his office, which is staffed entirely by young, beautiful women (because Charlie believes, "You can teach ‘em to type but you can't teach ‘em to grow tits"), he juggles citizen complaints (the ACLU has objected to a Nativity scene outside a Nacogdoches firehouse) with voting (a commendation for the Boy Scouts) and committee work (with a wave of his hand he doubles the covert ops budget for Afghanistan from $5 million to a still paltry $10 million).

Because his constituents don't care about anything but low taxes and keeping their guns, Charlie is free to vote any way he likes, and has built up the largest collection of IOUs in Washington from his fellow congresspersons.

Compelled by Joanne Herring (Julia Roberts), "the sixth richest woman in Texas" and his occasional bed partner, who represents "an ultra right-wing group of anti-communist fanatics," Charlie meets with the president of Pakistan (Om Puri), which is now home to one fifth of the population of Afghanistan. He arranges for Charlie to tour a refugee camp for a first hand look at what the Soviets have done.

Moved by what he sees, Charlie hooks up with Gust Avrakotos (Philip Seymour Hoffman), a disgruntled CIA employee who's on the Afghanistan desk because he was passed over for assignment to Finland. He introduces Charlie to the weapons expert who can tell him what the Afghans need to bring down the Soviet helicopters that are terrorizing and killing them.

Since the Afghans can't be supplied with weapons that can be traced to America, Charlie locates the biggest cache of Soviet weapons outside the Soviet Union - in Israel. He manages to broker a deal between Israel, Egypt, Saudi Arabia and Afghanistan while being entertained by an American Baptist belly dancer in Pakistan.

Meanwhile, back in Washington, Charlie is being annoyed by a gnat named Rudolph Giuliani who's trying to bring him down on charges of cocaine possession and use.

Hanks effectively makes Charlie likable for the good things he accomplishes, even though he's a pig - but a charming pig - in his not-very-private life. The blonde hair doesn't suit Roberts any better than an accent that wavers between Joanne's Houstonian and her own native Georgian, but she too is charming and she's just a supporting character.

Hoffman completes a trifecta with his third great performance in as many months. His dialogue may be actor-proof but fortunately we don't have to watch a lesser thespian testing that theory. After "Enchanted" you'll never again have to watch Amy Adams in a part like she plays here: Charlie's administrative assistant. In one scene her character lets it be known she's too important to fetch drinks - before going to fetch a drink - but this role is the acting equivalent of a gofer. Expect to see it if "Before They Were Stars" is ever revived.

It will be interesting to see how much boxoffice clout two of the biggest stars of the ‘90s have today. "Charlie Wilson's War" is good enough that it should have been able to be a hit with a cast of unknowns, but things don't work that way in the real world. For director Mike Nichols it's a prequel of sorts to his last political satire, "Primary Colors."

Events of close to ten years are compressed into just over 90 minutes, with the pace making the considerable humor in Sorkin's script all the funnier. (Billy Wilder's "One, Two, Three" comes to mind as a comparison.) About the only time the movie pauses and lingers momentarily is when Joanne climbs out of her swimming pool in a bikini.

There's no mention of who the Afghans turned their U.S.-financed weapons on after they drove the Soviets out, and Charlie Wilson remained in office until 1997, so there's plenty of material for a sequel.

If you've got to learn about current and recent events, "Charlie Wilson's War" is more fun than "The Daily Show."

Barber Chop

Movie Review: SWEENEY TODD: THE DEMON BARBER OF FLEET STREET
Rating: *** (three stars)

If you ask Sweeney Todd to take a little off the top, you'd better be careful.

Likewise, if you ask Tim Burton to go a little over the top, you're asking for trouble.

Surprisingly, Burton has reined it in somewhat - relative to the possibilities - in his film version of Stephen Sondheim's musical "Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street." That's not to say the gore won't send people who were hoping for a "nice" musical running for the exits, or that Sondheim's songs will appeal to fans of previous Burton-Johnny Depp collaborations which, while they may have contained some songs, weren't practically freakin' operas.

It's practically a Goth opera at that, with Depp and Helena Bonham Carter dressed mostly in black and grey with pale makeup, so most of their scenes are almost in black and white. The killings, as excessive as a Mel Gibson fantasy, are appropriate to the Grand Guignol style, which adheres closely to the stage version.

Many songs have been shortened but only a few eliminated in trimming nearly a third from the show's length. Most missed is the running choral narration, "The Ballad of Sweeney Todd," but it's technically redundant as we see everything it described.

The story, dating back to the mid-19th century and possibly based on earlier true events, is of a barber who returns to London after escaping an Australian prison where he was sent on false charges by a judge who hoped to steal his wife. Benjamin Barker (Depp) now calls himself Sweeney Todd and he lives for revenge against Judge Turpin (Alan Rickman).

Sweeney moves back into his old digs above the pie shop of his former landlady, Mrs. Lovett (Bonham Carter), who has a longstanding crush on him. She tells him his wife took poison when he was sent away and the judge adopted their daughter as his ward. Johanna (Jayne Wisner) is grown now and the judge, who has designs on her, keeps her a virtual prisoner. From her window she catches the eye and heart of Anthony (Jamie Campbell Bower), a young sailor who befriended Sweeney at sea. The judge beats and threatens Anthony.

With his razor, which Mrs. Lovett kept for him (or as a souvenir), back in his hand, Sweeney feels complete. He opens for business and soon has his first victim. It's Mrs. Lovett who gets the idea, the price of meat being what it is, of disposing of the victim - and those who will follow - in her meat pies. Soon they're both doing a booming business.

Depp reveals a unexpectedly pleasant singing voice, in addition to being born to play the part. Bonham Carter has a sweet soprano sound but sings in a higher register than most Mrs. Lovetts and blends in with the strings, making her words hard to understand. Her thick Cockney accent doesn't help either, and it's a shame to waste Sondheim lyrics.

Rickman is effective as his standard villain. Has he ever played a likable character? Sacha Baron Cohen appears as the snarky Pirelli, but audiences with memories of "Borat" laugh at him before he does anything. He's not bad but his history is a distraction. So is Campbell Bower's beauty. He seems more feminine than the woman he loves. He'd be well cast as Richard Chamberlain's grandson.

This isn't a great "Sweeney Todd" but it's probably as good a film version as we could have hoped for. Sondheim, Burton and Depp, like Sweeney, have "trod a path that few have trod" (sorry, that's from the missing song). It will be interesting to see how many tread the path to see this movie.

Indiana Cage and the Lost City of Gold

Movie Review: NATIONAL TREASURE: BOOK OF SECRETS
Rating: ** 1/2 (two and 1/2 stars)

As a general rule, the closer to opening a movie is screened for the press, the worse it is. "National Treasure: Book of Secrets," which was kept under wraps until the Wednesday night before the Friday opening, breaks that rule. Sure, it's a second-rate "Indiana Jones," but the movie it's a sequel to was third-rate. This one moves faster and is more consistent fun.

Nicolas Cage is back as treasure hunter Benjamin Franklin Gates. It's encouraging when he and Jon Voight, who encores as his father, underplay their first scene together, because they can be two of the biggest hams in the business. While they're not that restrained throughout the movie, they generally keep it in check.

The formula's the same. Ben, with the help of Dr. Abigail Chase (Diane Kruger) - his future girlfriend again because she dumped him between movies - and comic relief Riley Poole (Justin Bartha), follows clues to a historic treasure, violating national (and international, thanks to side trips to London and Paris) landmarks as they go. And there's another bad guy (Ed Harris), who wants to beat Ben to the treasure or take it away from him.

The treasure is Cibola, a legendary Native American lost city of gold. The first clue is in the diary of John Wilkes Booth, who was killed after assassinating Lincoln in 1865. It leads to other clues in objects that didn't exist in 1865, but this isn't a movie you're supposed to think about.

The overkill cast includes Helen Mirren as Ben's mother, who's been estranged from his father for 32 years. (She probably earned more for this than "The Queen" and all the "Prime Suspect"s combined.) Harvey Keitel's the FBI guy and Bruce Greenwood plays yet another President.

It's all mildly outrageous, mildly funny, mildly exciting and totally family-friendly; and except for the technology involved it's as retro as the Goofy cartoon that precedes it. "How to Hook up Your Home Theater" is amusing too but could have used a punch line.

"Walk" Hard to Hate but Harder to Love

Movie Review: WALK HARD: THE DEWEY COX STORY
Rating: ** 1/2 (two and 1/2 stars)

There may have been conflict between screenwriters Judd Apatow and director Jake Kasdan, because "Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story" feels like parts of two different movies stitched together.

One is a facile spoof of "Walk the Line" with bits from other biographical films thrown in. (The one at the end of the credits is worth waiting for.) The other is a more sweeping look at pop music from the birth of rock and roll to the present day through the life of one musician.

Likewise the humor swings between genuine wit and, more often, the level of a bad SNL sketch.

The opening is promising, with ten-year-old Dewey Cox (Conner Rayburn) at home in Springberry, Alabama, in the shadow of his brother Nate (Chip Hormess). Dewey accidentally kills Nate, who charges him with his dying breath to become "double great for the both of us."

"The wrong kid died" is adopted as a mantra by their father (Raymond J. Barry), whose love Dewey spends his life trying to win. Dewey discovers he has talent when he borrows a guitar from an old blues musician and gets to demonstrate it seven years later in the high school talent show, where he sparks a riot. From then to the end he's played by John C. Reilly (although it feels like a Will Ferrell role) and sung by Michael Andrews.

Thrown out of the house by his father, Dewey works as a janitor in a black club where "people come...to dance erotically." When the star is indisposed Dewey gets his chance, the very night three very Jewish record executives are in the audience.

Already married to his young sweetheart Edith (Kristen Wiig), Dewey keeps her pregnant while he's on the road, getting into drugs and his backup singer, Darlene (Jenna Fischer), although they resist each other as long as two decent movie characters can.

With Dewey variously singing like Rick Nelson, Johnny Cash, Roy Orbison, Bob Dylan and others, his career spans several periods, allowing an endless parade of guest stars to portray an endless parade of rock stars, mostly badly. There's Jack White as Elvis Presley and Jack Black, Paul Rudd, Jason Schwartzman and Justin Long as the Beatles, for starters. Jack McBrayer of "30 Rock" has a one-line cameo and Jane Lynch has a funny scene as an interviewer from a Dallas TV station.

Dewey seems to invent the concept of celebrity rehab as a substitute for prison as he goes through ups and downs and breakups and reconciliations, with the last part of the picture staying too serious for too long as everything is worked out in time for a Lifetime Achievement Award.

You've probably heard enough "Cox" puns and other double-entendres in the trailers and other promotional materials. There are a few more in the movie but not too many except in the "Let's Duet" song that goes on forever.

"Walk Hard" offers life lessons like "Quaaludes and water skiing don't mix," as well as a sales pitch for "reefer" that smacks of product placement. But it seems like whoever was pushing for intelligent satire and homage was rather consistently outvoted by the proponent of snarky, sophomoric silliness.

In other words, the wrong kid died.

It's Not Where You Start, It's Where You Finish

Movie Review: STARTING OUT IN THE EVENING
Rating: ** (two stars)

Gag me with a book report!

A year ago, in "Venus," Peter O'Toole played a dirty old man pursuing a younger woman. This year's May-December story, "Starting Out in the Evening" is about a dirty young woman chasing an older man.

Leonard Schiller (Frank Langella) is a seventysomething novelist who was part of New York's literary scene when there was one. Now his contemporaries have died off, his books are out of print and there's no market for the novel he's been trying to write for a decade, even if he lives long enough to finish it.

But Leonard has one fan: Heather Wolfe (Lauren Ambrose), a graduate student who's writing her thesis on him and wants to interview him about his work. He doesn't want to make room for her in his life but lets her convince him she can keep him from being forgotten.

What Leonard doesn't know is the depth of Heather's admiration, and how it extends beyond his writing to Leonard himself. He doesn't know she's scheming and manipulative - a younger, gentler version of Kathy Bates in "Misery."

The only other person in Leonard's life is his daughter, Ariel (Lili Taylor), who's about to turn 40 and hears her biological clock ticking. She wants to use her current boyfriend, Victor (Michael Cumpsty), to make a baby with no strings attached; but when he gets serious she reverts to an old love, Casey (Adrian Lester), who is perfect for her in every way except that he doesn't want children.

Casey didn't like Leonard's first novel because it was about two couples, and here he is in the middle of a story about two couples; and in this case one is intergenerational and one interracial, which probably wasn't true in Leonard's book.

Watching Heather being obnoxious and intrusive while waiting for a chance to jump Leonard's bones is most unpleasant, and Ambrose does nothing to make her more sympathetic to the audience. It's a relief, though not dramatically satisfying, when she's written out of the last part of the film.

Langella has been touted for awards for his performance, but there's nothing so special about his portrayal of a man of roughly his own age. Until the final half hour he doesn't appear as feeble or fragile as he claims to be, only emotionally vulnerable because his privacy has been invaded and his legacy is in doubt.

Taylor is a pleasant oasis in which to escape from all the intense acting surrounding her, but Ariel's tendency toward bad choices makes her frustrating to watch.

"Starting Out in the Evening" was adapted by Fred Parnes and director Andrew Wagner from a novel by Brian Morton. The story may have worked better on the page, where you can form your own mental images of the characters and the writer can go into more depth about their feelings and conversations. It might even have made a tolerable stage play, where dialogues don't have to be geared to short attention spans and broken up for visual variety.

For a piece about literature this movie is a poor example of the art. Some conversations are at once too long to hold our attention and too short to make their point. In one discussion between Leonard and Casey the subtext completely overwhelms the text; and because the question is never raised we can't be sure there's not a racial component to Leonard's dislike of Casey.

The only way "Starting Out in the Evening" can help the Leonard Schillers of the world is by making people who see it decide to stay home and read a book the next time they're tempted to go out to a movie.

B.S. I Hate It!

Movie Review: P.S. I LOVE YOU
Rating: * 1/2 (one and 1/2 stars)

Nothing makes a man feel more manly than really hating a "woman's picture." Not a picture of a woman but a "chick flick," a movie intended for a female audience. I've liked quite a few of them, but "P.S. I Love You" really set my testosterone raging. Some woman's pictures intentionally alienate male viewers, but some are just bad. This is a bad one.

There may be a germ of a good idea in the screenplay by director Richard LaGravenese and Steven Rogers, from a novel by Cecelia Ahern, but with the ghost of "Ghost" looming over it "P.S." doesn't stand a ghost of a chance.

The 12-minute pre-title sequence includes about ten minutes of arguing between Holly (Hilary Swank) and Gerry Kennedy (Gerard Butler). An abundance of exposition informs us they've been married nine years and live in a tiny apartment in Lower Manhattan. Gerry takes life as it comes while Holly believes, "You have to have a plan." Still she goes from job to job without knowing what she really wants to do.

You may think they're breaking up, the way they fight and disagree about fundamentals, but it's just foreplay for makeup sex that takes place offscreen while the credits roll.

By the time the credits finish Gerry has died of a brain tumor and the funeral is being held in a bar owned by Patricia (Kathy Bates), Holly's mother. Her hunky bartender, Daniel (Harry Connick Jr.) looks like the answer to Holly's problems but she's not ready to move on, so they become friends.

Holly already has friends, Denise (Lisa Kudrow) and Sharon (Gina Gershon); and Sharon's husband, John (James Marsters), who was Gerry's partner in a limo business. She also has a sister, Ciara (Nellie McKay), who's just come back from Australia.

It's a great support system but Holly ignores them and shuts herself up in her apartment until the women show up to bring her a 30th birthday party. Just then a cake arrives - from Gerry! - with a tape explaining that he's planned some things in advance to help her, and the first of a series of letters from him will be arriving the next day.

The letter arrives on schedule, followed by several more. Gerry, who died at 35, must have started planning all this when he was four! The letters all bring back memories for Holly - flashbacks for us - of their time together. They also instruct Holly to do things like go out and sing karaoke, get rid of Gerry's stuff and take Denise and Sharon (Ciara disappears from the movie at this point, except to sing the title song on the soundtrack near the end - and that's McKay, not the other Ciara) to Ireland on vacation. If he could afford that they should have been able to afford a bigger apartment.

In Ireland Holly reconciles with Gerry's parents, who have always resented her for stealing their son, and meets a burly but attractive Irishman named William (Jeffrey Dean Morgan), who is singing a song Gerry sang. (The soundtrack is a mix of soft rock and drunken Irish ballads.)

Back in the States Daniel continues "flirting in good faith" while we wait for Gerry to give Holly the go-ahead. And why don't her girlfriends, who are always pushing her on strangers, encourage a relationship with Daniel? It stretches on and on (this is not a story that should take over two hours to tell), with Gerry appearing to Holly in fantasies when he's not with her in flashbacks or reading letters to her in voiceover.

In the early stages of her grief, when she doesn't leave her apartment, Holly watches a lot of old Warner Bros. movies. (Expect them to be packaged in a DVD box set, "Holly's Hollywood Favorites," if this movie's a hit.) At one point she asks, "Why can't I be Bette Davis?"

Well, Hilary, for most of her career Bette Davis had a studio choosing the pictures she would make. They didn't always choose wisely, but they did better than you've done on your own. Aside from your two Oscar roles (and Bette never played a transsexual or a boxer) most of your films have been pretty mediocre.

As for Butler, he's a decent actor but not someone I'd miss if he never made another movie. Bates isn't at her best here but Connick, Kudrow and Gershon make their moments onscreen more pleasant than the rest of the picture.

Some movies are painfully romantic. "P.S. I Love You" is romantically painful.