Catch Me If You Can (IMDB) (Netflix)
Based on the true story of a hall-of-fame paper hanger and trickster Frank Abagnale, who kited millions of dollars in checks around the world in the 60s, courtesy of Pan American Airways. Leonardo DiCaprio has the lead, and Tom Hanks is the obsessive, humorless G-man just one step behind the con game curve.

This has more substance than the breezy romp it's positioned to be, maybe by being mostly true, and because Christopher Walken resonates as Abagnale's down-on-his-luck dad who is the oak tree to Leo's more successful acorn. DiCaprio is fine, but as with Gangs of New York, someone else–Hanks this time–has the more interesting role and exploits it most effectively, combining his rubber face, jerky body language, a Boston accent and heavy black glasses to great effect, carrying the comic relief load while typifying the narrow dedication of the ideal civil servant. Great post-holiday fare.

Chicago (IMDB) (Netflix)
Two-timing murderous dames, wondrous gams, mouthpieces and mealtickets, thrown together in a musical tribute to ambition and amorality. Rene Zellweger is a chorus girl manqué who gets exploited by her boy on the side, but not for long, and ends up in prison with a bunch of other leggy women who were severely provoked while premenstrual. Catherine Zeta-Jones is one of Zellweger's rivals for sympathetic publicity, and Richard Gere is the never-lose lawyer with more chutzpah than a Jewish cat with all nine lives.

While its recent predessor Moulin Rouge was groundbreaking but exhausting, Chicago is more conventional but lighter on its feet. To use the reviewer's cliche, it "crackles," with snappy 1930s patter, aggressive editing, endless black lingerie and no apologies for the outrageous behavior of its lead characters. Zellweger is as far from "you had me at 'hello'" as she can get and Zeta-Jones is bitchy to the core. Gere really sells it, and has to, because in reader Sara Schneider's eyes, he's strayed too far from his old bad-boy persona (those Buddhists will do that to you). Musical fans might quibble about some of the vocal performances (which are by the actors), but this is a musical that works for people who think they don't like musicals. Like me.

Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers (IMDB) (Netflix)
When director/producer Peter Jackson and his cohorts were pitching Lord of the Rings, their initial funder insisted that the trilogy be done as two movies, to reduce cost and risk. Jackson gulped and soldiered on, eventually shedding that vulgarian, but was convinced that Hollywood would only pay for two films (quick, name a non-animated fantasy flick that had done big business in the previous decade). During his quest for financing, after he aired a video presentation of the concept to New Line Cinema, the suit in charge said, "I don't get it." Hearts sank. "It's a trilogy. Why aren't there three movies?" And there was much rejoicing throughout Middle Earth, and in the glands of literate adolescents everywhere.

For a Part Two, this ranks up there with the second Godfather film. Trilogy aficionado and discerning cinephile Alan Asper found it "amazing," and though I never made it past The Hobbit and lack the details that would have filled in much of the backstory, I have to agree that this is a terrific movie. It helps to start with quality material that provides all the elements: good vs. evil, pure-of-heart romance, truly scary bad-beings and heroes who will sacrifice for the greater good, plus a top-shelf battle scene. Viggo Mortensen couldn't be more heroic as Aragon, and the pacing gives the audience time to breath without dragging out the proceedings, making this three-hour epic play like two hours. The CGI rendering farms rose to the task as well, with a digitized character, Gollum, who interacts unusually well with the human actors (the scenes were shot with an actor, who was later replaced by the digital version) and is unconventionally creepy.

Worth pretty much every one of the gazillion pennies it'll ring up, and a film that George Lucas should study frame-by-frame and line-by-line if he wants Star Wars: Episode Three to avoid embarrassing comparisons.

Santa Clause 2 (IMDB) (Netflix)
A sequel, with two Tim Allen characters, for better or worse. Santa discovers he's subject to a "Mrs." clause, meaning he's got to get married by Christmas Eve, or no more Santa, Christmas or happy children. Plus, his teenage son is acting out at school, so he's got some work to do, and creates an ersatz Santa to hold down the North Pole fort while he's back in the real world. Unfortunately, the clone has some misguided ideas of his own and begins to wreak havoc with the

The niece and nephew liked it, but can't explain why (the critic genes, such as they are, seem not have jumped any branches or are laying dormant). Mom thought they could have done more with it, which is true: there's not much sense of jeopardy given that half of the retail industry's economy is on the line, and it's pretty easy to see where most of this is headed. Yet it's done over $125 million at the box office, making the exhibitors, the studio and Santa very happy.

Gangs of New York (IMDB) (Netflix)
An epic struggle between two men – each a relentless, irrestible force – that may end tragically for both. And that's just the relationship between director Martin Scorsese and Harvey Weinstein, the head of Miramax Studios. Scorsese grew up in the New York gangs, and has been trying to make this film for 30 years. To do it, he had to go to Italy and build a 1.5 square mile re-creation of New York's tempestuous Five Points district from the mid-19th century, requiring a financial backer with equal brass, which Weinstein, the bête noir of the movie business, has in spades. Both men are control freaks and perfectionists, and each apparently met his match in the other.

The story allows Scorsese to explore all his favorite themes: religion, gangs, crime, violence and the immigrant experience. Leonardo DiCaprio's Irish immigrant father is killed by Bill the Butcher (Daniel Day-Lewis) when Leo is just a tot, and sixteen years later he's out to settle the score, just as the Civil War is heating up, bringing about a new and unwelcome concept in citizenship: conscription. Leo befriends Cameron Diaz, a pickpocket and Bill's old girlfriend, at the point of a knife (the interesting part is who's holding it) and worms his way into the Butcher's inner circle.

It's a part of American history that's largely unexplored and needs telling, especially in the movies, and if effort and intentions guaranteed perfection, this would be one of the best films ever made. It's not, but you have to admire the scope of it, the noble ambition. Day-Lewis is already being talked up for an Oscar (no argument here) and the set should get best supporting actor. DiCaprio doesn't have the juicy part to balance off his co-star, but holds his own in the performance, as does Diaz. Some connective tissue, however, seems to have been lost in the editing, which might be a surprise given the two hour and forty-five minute length. Gangs of New York may have over-reached, but by forcefully exposing one of our darkest periods, serves a larger purpose than mere spectacle. Vegetarians might want to pass.

Personal Velocity (IMDB) (Netflix)
Three character studies of women in transition, each written and directed by Rebecca Miller. Delia, a former high school trollop and an impressively dislikeable human being, escapes from her abusive husband. Greta has settled in her life in more ways than one, but is then confronted with sudden success. Paula is newly pregnant, almost becomes the victim of a fatal accident, and picks up a hitchhiker in need of care. The title refers to our unique arcs of development, and how they're a combination of timing, circumstance and latent desire.

Miller is depressingly multi-talented, also being an actor, a sculptor and a writer of the short stories that formed the film. The narration has a certain literary quality, and quickly fills in the expository gaps and backstories — necessary given the ground that needs covering. The male characters, well, now I know how it feels not to share the writer's gender, but there are so many of them. While none of these stories is worth a full movie, they all stand on their own, and each has something to say that's in danger of being missed in the swarm of over-hyped holiday films. As loyal reader Janet Borggren observed, exactly the opposite of the new Lord of the Rings movie; I'm sure the other three people in the theater would have agreed.

Star Trek: Nemesis (IMDB) (Netflix)
The latest, and if you believe the promos, the last Star Trek film. The Next Generation crew is aging nicely (couldn't say that about Kirk and company), and Riker is about to finally assume command of his own vessel. But wait, there's trouble on Romulus, which is all of a sudden missing a Senate, and a new player has emerged, who wants something very dear to Captain Picard. We're also introduced to the Remans, the Romulans' red-headed step-children, who have notions of upward mobility.

This installment has its own ambitions–it's darker, more thoughtful, less glib–but they're not fully realized. Picard and Data each are confronted with questions about their identity and what it means to be unique, and there's a nature/nuture thread, but it doesn't really explain the bad guy's motivation. The action generated a host of "why don't they just...?" reactions, and frankly, I was hoping we were past the days of weapons of mass destruction that took seven agonizing minutes to deploy. Picard's Patrick Stewart seems to have recognized these holes and taken his performance in as somber and introspective direction as possible; a heroic effort to counter-balance the script at the same time he's saving humanity.

As with the recent Bond film, Nemesis upholds the tradition without raising it to a new level.

Evelyn (IMDB) (Netflix)
Based on the true story about a landmark legal case in 1950s Ireland. Pierce Brosnan is the hard-drinking, irregularly employed father of three children, whose mother abandons them. Da runs afoul of the family-unfriendly child welfare laws and loses the kids, setting up his struggle to get them back.

It's a good thing everything's incredibly Irish, or this could be unwatchable. You've seen each moment before in countless movies of its ilk, from the drinking dad to the good nun, bad nun characters to the dramatic courtroom finale, but I was chuckling and empathizing even while ticking off the entire genre checklist in my head. Maybe it's the scenery, the lilt or the relentless heart that gives it that slipping-into-an-old-pair-of-sneakers feel. Loyal reader and Eire-phile Mary Murphy enjoyed it, and I, like a coed meeting her first Frenchman, was charmed within an inch of surrender. Yet, when the lights came on, I went home alone, knowing it was the right thing to do, but wondering what might have been.

A winner for the sentimentality-inclined.

Beat the Devil (IMDB) (BMW Films)
You won't find this nine-minute film in your local theater listings, but you might see it before the next feature you attend, and it's a great reason to get there on time (you can also download it at the BMW Films link above). After last year's successful marketing campaign, carmaker BMW has commissioned another set of "shorts" by top-shelf film directors like John Woo, Ang Lee and the late John Frankenheimer. The point of this largesse is to sell Bimmers, but calling these efforts "commercials" is a minor unjustice. Tony Scott (Top Gun, True Romance, Enemy of the State) directs this one, which features Clive Owen as The Driver, Gary Oldman as The Devil, singer James Brown as himself, the Godfather of Soul, and a shiny brand-new BMW Z4 roadster. The hardest working man in show business wants a new soul, and will drag-race the devil to get one.

Director Scott empties his very large bag of tricks to make this hyper-active onslaught, and while one's head would explode if it were a full-length feature, here the barrage of music, quick cuts, special effects and subtitles (Brown has enunciation trouble) is powerfully effective. There's no letup, right through the last scene, which is best left as a surprise. I've seen it three times, and could easily see it another three, and hope that its success will bring shorts back to the theater, and give us more of our money's worth.

Standing in the Shadows of Motown (IMDB) (Netflix) (Soundtrack)
The musical common denominator of the Motown era wasn't impresario Berry Gordy, but a loose bunch of studio musicians known as The Funk Brothers. Singers like Marvin Gaye, The Temptations, Stevie Wonder, The Supremes and others would come into the studio with some lyrics and maybe a concept for the melody, and the Brothers would do the rest. Name a Motown hit from the 60s, and they almost certainly played the music that transcended racial boundaries and made Detroit famous for something other than cars. I remember my parents hosting a party when I was eight or nine years old, and as I listened to the music from my bunk bed, I heard a knock on the bathroom door, and the words "Come on, honey, it's the Supremes."

This documentary finally gives them the recognition these musicians deserve, through the usual interviews with the surviving members and a reunion concert fronted by modern-day artists like Ben Harper, plus evocative recreations of key incidents. Missing are scenes with almost all of the big-name artists who made millions off the Brothers' talent, which is telling, but we don't really need their opinion, because the music, and its success, speaks for itself.

Analyze That (IMDB) (Netflix)
The sequel to Analyze This, the movie that for better or worse brought out Robert DeNiro's broadly comedic side. His wiseguy character is acting up in prison, alternately singing show tunes and going catatonic, which drags Billy Crystal in to see if he's really crazy. Of course, he's not, but the ploy springs DeNiro and sets him up as Crystal's house guest from hell, and an outplacement firm's worst nightmare. The rest of the loosely constructed story turns on DeNiro's coping with the real world: will he go straight despite the threats on his life, or build on his core competency, competitive threat mitigation (whacking people)?

From the outtakes running alongside the closing credits, this was fun movie set, and there were a fair number of laughs, particularly early in the film. Crystal excels at this kind of humor, which, despite the R rating due to the strong language, is pretty middle-of-the-road, easy "I'm hosting the Oscars" stuff. Seeing DeNiro cry is still a little creepy (where have you gone, Mr. Taxi Driver?). There's mirth, but it's not all that memorable.