I don’t get it.

I’ve looked at it from every angle I could think of, put myself in the shoes of others and suspended all the disbelief I could afford and then some, but I’m finally prepared to admit defeat. I don’t get it.

I don’t understand “Twilight.”

I don’t understand the popularity. I don’t understand why it seems to have captured the imagination of a generation the way Harry Potter did. I especially don’t understand it because, from what I’ve seen, it’s just not very good.

I’m in no way a snob about the genre; I own all seven seasons of “Buffy the Vampire Slayer” and all five seasons of “Angel.” That’s 12 seasons of vampire-with-a-soul angst, female empowerment and doomed love, punctuated with scenes of ass kicking. I really enjoy HBO’s “True Blood,” which covers much the same ground (although it bugs me that when the vamps show their “game face,” the wrong teeth turn into fangs). So, if I’m familiar with (and not hostile to) this type of subject matter, why am I so perplexed with this one?

When we had a weeklong power outage last year, it was one of those rare occasions where I was between books. With a bunch of time suddenly on my hands, I picked up the first book in the series, which my wife had been reading. I got about 20 pages into it and decided that I’d rather watch the branches of the tree in our front yard sway in the breeze.

I didn’t see the first film in the theater. I heard pretty much the entire plot, and just stayed away. I braved it only when the RiffTrax version came out (which will be the topic of a future column), and my suspicions were confirmed. It was one of the worst movies I’d ever seen a major studio put out, bar none.

The logic problems alone are incredible. Given the power vs. drawback ratio, why wouldn’t you want to be a vampire in the world of “Twilight”? You get to live forever, you’re incredibly strong, there’s none of that nasty “soulless evil undead” vibe, and you could be all sparkly at the beach. The only downside would be dietary restrictions. Heck, I’d eat tofurky every Thanksgiving if I could bench press a car and never have to worry about losing my hair.

Honestly, I haven’t been this confused about an element of pop culture since “The Bridges of Madison County.” Back in 1995, that book took the world by storm so, even though it wasn’t my literary cup of tea, I read it to see what all the fuss was about. It was a quick read, and left me with one thought: Author Robert James Waller obviously sold his soul to the devil to get a best seller. It sold 50 million copies worldwide, and was one of the worst written pieces of twaddle that I had, and still have, ever read. It was so bad I just couldn’t put it down. One of the reviews on Amazon referred to it as a “blunt literary instrument,” and I can’t put it any better than that. I never could bring myself to see the film because I simply like Clint Eastwood too much.

But back to the sparkly vampires. My best friend and I made the tactical error of seeing a film a few hours before the second film in the franchise, “New Moon,” opened at midnight. Nearly six hours before its showing, an oddly age-diverse crowd of females (and four males who I dearly hope were there against their will with the promise of sweet angst-free lovin’ to come later), had formed one of the most rabid lines I had seen in a while. Now I know what people thought before the “Star Wars” films opened (and, no, I’ve never dressed like Boba Fett, no matter how tempting it is).

Now, I’ve been throwing out a lot of phrases, like “bad,” “worst” and “oh, dear God, did a chimp bang this out at a typewriter” (What, didn’t I use that one?), but I don’t really want to anger anyone. Honestly, some of these people are fruit-bat nuts. I’m not trying to have the snarky fanboy argument (I’m a veteran of “The Phantom Menace” wars, after all) that something sucks just because I don’t like it. People whose opinions I usually respect have become fans of this series; there must be something to it.

Is it because the protagonist is a plucky young woman in an age where there aren’t many role models for females of a certain age? Is it the allure of never-ending ageless love? The allegory of vampirism and the taboo of teenage sex? Is it all the cute pale boys with no shirts? Throw me a bone here!

One thing is for sure, though. If they film the final movie faithfully to the book “Breaking Dawn,” from what I’ve heard, I am so there. Problem is, that story is probably unfilmable. Concussion-level nookie? C-Sections via fang? Werewolf/infant love? It’s gonna take an extra-special director to deliver the goods (no pun intended).

All I know is that my soon-to-be 8-year-old nephew thinks that the natural order of things is that vampires sparkle in the sunlight instead of burst into flames, and that’s just wrong. Make vampires all smooth and sexy if you must, but they had better broil during the daylight hours.

And, just to give Buffy the final word, enjoy.

The plot: The zombie apocalypse has occurred, and bands of survivors are out there surviving in the ruined landscape of America (and presumably the rest of the world). That’s pretty much it. It’s a zombie movie. It’s the journey, not the destination, because there are zombies pretty much everywhere at this point.

The verdict: This movie is fun, pure and simple. It never takes itself too seriously, with worrying about how the zombie virus came from, or dealing with the existential dread that the world is ending. The characters in this movie are loners by nature, and do very well for themselves because of it (also, there are lessons on the value of proper cardio training when there’s the distinct possibility you’re going to be chased by flesh-eating ghouls at any moment).

The movie plays out like kind of like the video game “Dead Rising” (which was itself based on “Dawn of the Dead”), and I mean that in the best possible way, because “Dead Rising” rocked. Thematically, the film is reminiscent of “Shaun of the Dead,” but a much-more Americanized version of it (complete with “zombie apocalypses are no time to be stingy when it comes to ammunition” lessons). There’s not as much gore as you might expect, although my wife might disagree with that statement (she’s more of a “traveling pants” kinda gal, whereas I think that film would have been much better if the pants would have traveled of their own volition across the countryside, but I digress). All the actors in general, and Woody Harrelson in particular, seem to be having a great time, and it translates to the audience very nicely. I’m already waiting for the sequel, and if they’d like to make a really good video game from this film, I’d be down with that, too. Who doesn’t like zombies (in theory)?

Interesting Tidbits:

• The idea of “Zombieland” was intended to be a pilot for a television series, and was sold as a spec script for CBS (!) in 2005. The first third of the film was to be the first episode, and the remainder would have been the second episode. When CBS chose to pass on the idea (sure, Angela Lansbury can stumble across upwards of 200 corpses in “Murder She Wrote,” but zombies every week would be too much, I suppose). Sony TV picked up the idea as a two-hour made-for-TV film back-door pilot, but the idea would have been too big for that, so a full-fledged film was commissioned. The “Zombie Kill of the Week” was a leftover from the proposed television series. I’ve heard far worse ideas, and seen far worse shows on television; seriously, step away from the vampires, people.

• Not to give away the celebrity cameo, but the writers thought of using Patrick Swazye (which would have been a really unfortunate turn of event for the filmmakers), Mark Hamill and Jean Claude Van Damme (one of the lines would have been “Hey! WWJCVDD?”)

• Why does the amusement park at the end still have power? Well, the film is set out west (although it was actually filmed in Georgia), and Hoover Dam would provide power for that area for about three years without human intervention (Thanks, History Channel’s “Life After People”!)

The plot: Afraid that he would be brought down if it came to light, Mark Whitacre (Matt Damon, playing the role with a decidedly un-Bourne-like pudginess), a mid-level manager at the agri-business giant Archer Daniels Midland, decides to come forward to the FBI with allegations of international price-fixing himself. From late 1991 to 1996 Whitacre gleefully turns informant for the FBI to bring down ADM, collecting hundreds of hours on tape and surpassing the wildest expectations of his federal contacts (the always straight-laced Scott Bakula and a surprisingly straight-laced Joel McHale). In the process, however, Whitacre brings to light not only the price-fixing information, but a slew of other crimes that muddy the waters for everyone concerned.

The verdict: This is one of those stories that, if it weren’t based in truth, it would fall apart because no one would buy these characters. It’s a good movie, but the marketing was pretty inaccurate. From the trailers and commercials (and even the poster), you would think this film is going to be a laugh-a-minute farce into the world of big business; it’s almost a character study of a fascinatingly flawed man, and if he’s behaving because he thinks it’s the right thing to do, or because he just can’t help himself. While there’s humor in it, it’s not as overstated as you might be expecting. That’s the key to enjoying this film – don’t go in expecting what you’re expecting, and you should have a fine time.

Interesting Tidbits:

• In 2000, the NPR program “This American Life” spent an hour speaking with Kurt Eichenwald, who wrote the book The Informant ( A True Story), which this movie is based upon. Listen to “The Fix Is In” here.

• Screenwriter Scott Z. Burns also wrote the screenplay for “The Bourne Ultimatum,” also staring Damon. These are two very, very different movies. Not an explosion or a shakey-cam shot to be had here.

My lovely wife and I just returned from a visit to our nation’s capital. I hadn’t been since the eighth grade field trip, and no one was gonna tell me what to do this time, by gum! Since I can’t show you our home movies (primarily because you wouldn’t watch our home movies), here’s some the highlights, Internet Siteseeing-style.

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Travel

• The Louisville International Airport has the most amazing Dyson hand dryers in the restrooms. They really do dry off your hands in 10 seconds. Design-wise, Dyson is the Apple of things that blow and suck.

• On both legs of the trip, we sat towards the rear of the airplane, behind the wings. This is a good news/bad news thing. On the plus side, I can look out the window and make sure at least one of the wings is still attached to the plane. On the down side, those wings wobble a disconcerting amount, especially during some turbulence.

• Dulles International Airport is nowhere near Washington DC. Don’t let ‘em tell you different. Watching the cab fare go up and up and up isn’t the most relaxing way to start your vacation.

Downtown DC

• Downtown Washington DC is one of the cleanest, nicest urban areas I’ve ever seen. I don’t know that I saw a spot of trash where it shouldn’t be. Old buildings were classy, not dilapidated. There was only one thing I noticed:

• Washington DC has a huge homeless problem. There was a small park outside of our hotel where in the evening about 10 people slept. This was four blocks away from the White House. We walked to find breakfast on Saturday morning, and in almost every nook and cranny you could fit a person in, there was a person.

• We stayed a block away from the embassies of both Mexico and Uruguay.  I always imagined that embassies had big courtyards that you could run into and request political refuge, if the need struck you. These were like storefronts. They were both next to much bigger, much nicer banks. It was a bit disillusioning.

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• You can practically stumble across history in the town. We went to the Hard Rock Café one night (several people mentioned that I should try the Ethiopian food in the city, but I gotta be me), and as we were walking out, we noticed that Ford’s Theater (of “Other than that, Mrs. Lincoln, how was the play?” fame) was right next door. One of Prince’s guitars is less than 100 yards away from one of the great crime scenes in American history, and I don’t mean “Graffiti Bridge.”

The Mall

• While we were walking along the Reflecting Pool between the Washington Monument and the Lincoln Memorial, we met a woman dipping her toes in. Considering the vast amount of duck poo that coats the Pool’s concrete bank (they never show that in the official photos), it was kinda gross. She asked us how deep we thought the pool was, to which I honestly answered “I don’t know.” I knew immediately that I had just missed an opportunity. Had I answered “Ankle deep, I think,” we all could have found out for sure just how deep it was.

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• Washington must be one of the most photographed places on the planet. Since everywhere you go there’s an amazing site, there are people taking photos everywhere you go. If you’re trying to stay low profile, DC probably isn’t the place for you — you’ll always be in someone’s shot. Eventually, I just gave up and started taking photos of people taking photos. My favorite was of four guys trying to get their photo taken in front of the Washington Monument doing the “YMCA” in mid-air. The guy taking the photo was having problems getting the shot. I didn’t.

The Metro

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• Since we flew in and didn’t rent a car, we depended on our feet and the Metro system to get us around Washington DC. The Metro system is very clean, convenient, fast and easy to use, and wasn’t that expensive. It’s a shame that it’s apparently losing money hand over fist. It did made me rethink my whole opinion on public transportation. Maybe it’s not just for hippies, vagrants and vagrant hippies after all.

The Smithsonian
• Ah, America’s attic. We were able to hit the American History museum and the Air & Space museum. There were a lot of hands-on exhibits, so of course my mind goes right to Swine Flu fears. I remember from my eighth-grade trip that the prop U.S.S. Enterprise was at the Smithsonian, so I wanted to see it. Unfortunately, when we asked someone where it was, he seemed disappointed that we were asking about a fictional ship — and he made sure we knew that it wasn’t real. Glad he cleared that up for us.

• In the Air & Space Museum, I got to touch a sliver of moonrock. Swine Flu be damned, I touched a piece of the Moon. Besides, if I get the flu from a moonrock, don’t I automatically get superpowers?

The Wall

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• The Vietnam Memorial wall was built just after my eighth grade trip. I’ve of course seen it on TV and read about it, but it really is powerful when you get right up to it and see it with your own eyes, and get a feel of just how much 53,000+ really is. A parks department volunteer guide, who was himself a Vietnam Vet (three tours), was stationed at the wall, answering questions. He showed me a spot to take photos where the reflection of the Washington Monument made for a nice shot, and gave me, and others around me, some history and interesting tidbits. Probably the most powerful point of the whole thing was a simple exchange between him and an older man wearing a cap with the Marine symbol on it. “Welcome home, Marine,” he said. The man returned a quick salute with a simple “Thank you.” He then looked at the panel next to me, found a name, and slowly ran his thumb across it. I didn’t take the photo.

The Jackholes

• I’m cynical by nature, but I have respect for certain things, like memorials. The Vietnam Memorial. The World War II Memorial. These structures are there to remind us the sacrifice others made to allow future generations their freedoms. So, when you find the name of your state in the World War II Memorial (they’re all there), don’t have your buddies take your picture throwing faux gang signs and making goofy faces. When you’re at the Vietnam Memorial, don’t hug the wall and have your buddy take a picture because the reflection looks cool. You’re not making art; you’re making yourself a jackhole. Cemetery rules apply: If you wouldn’t throw gang signs in a cemetery, don’t throw them there. If you would throw them in a cemetery, get the hell away from me.

The People

• One of the cool things about a city like DC is the people. We heard, we believe, English, Spanish, French, German, Russian, Hindi, Turkish, and several we didn’t recognize, along with English of different accents.

Things I learned

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• I can spend nearly 24 hours a day for five days with my wife, and still miss her when I had to go to work the next day.

• Objects on a map appear closer than they really are when you have to walk your carcass from one end of the city to the other.

• When you bring a pair of sandals as your only footwear on what is primarily a walking vacation, make sure they won’t rip the skin off your toe or heel. Otherwise, you might have to rock socks and sandals for the bulk of your stay.

• I dress like a tourist no matter where I am, apparently. All I need is a map to complete the look.

True Confessions: When I worked for a daily newspaper, I altered several photos on one project before they went in the paper. And, given the same situation, I’d do it again in a heartbeat.

The Justification: Ever tried to herd cats? If so, then you know what it’s like to take group shots of 10 kindergarten classes in one day.

The Explanation: Every year, the paper I was working on put together a special section titled “The Class of Present Year +12” (in 2003, it would be “The Class of 2015,” etc.). In it, we’d take pictures of every kindergarten class in the county’s schools (and not just the public schools, my friends; the private schools, too. If you think 5-year-olds in private schools behave better than their peers in the public system, think again). Once we gathered all these images of the precious tots, we’d package it all together, sell advertising to companies that wanted to be part of a “feel good” project, and then make sure everyone’s parents knew that Little Johnny and Janie were going to be in the paper that day, so buy 12 copies!

Win/Win, everyone’s happy, right? Well, not if you’re the one that had to traipse around to all these far-flung schools and try to get 20 or so little germ factories to sit still and look at the same point for five or 10 seconds. Generally, when taking a photo of any group, you take two or three, in case someone blinks. In this case, I’d take four or five, because, invariably, some future jackass that will be your kid’s co-worker at some point would decide this was their big moment and do their best Broadway jazz-hands, usually elbowing their buddy next to them. Chaos ensued.

(By the way, I really don’t have anything against kids, who are, on average, perfectly lovely people. Just want to throw that out there. But I’m sure that even the most doting of parents will, at their most truthful, admit that they wish their kids would, sometimes, just cut the crap. The thing to keep in mind is that these weren’t MY KIDS.)

So, when I’d get back to the newsroom (and I’m using the term “news” pretty loosely right now), I’d take a look at the photos and see that, of the four pictures I had, about 20% of the kids were looking off in the distance, blinking, or otherwise not putting their best face forward. And it wasn’t just me; everyone’s pictures had the same problems.

Then it occurred to me. Out of four shots, all the kids were looking at the camera at some point, just not all at the same time. Since I didn’t move, and since they stayed (pretty much) in the same positions, it would be easy to make a composite shot in Photoshop. The devil on my right shoulder said “do it.” The angel on my left said “Meh, whatever.”

So, in summary, if you had a child in kindergarten sometime during the first half of this decade, at a certain school system, there’s a good chance that I cut off your kid’s head, and depending on how much trouble they were, I wasn’t always gentle. But, hey, YOUR kids were probably looking at the camera and smiling, right? It’s those damn other people’s children who are the troublemakers, so no worries.

The point of this long, slightly rambly story is that, now that digital photography is everywhere, it’s easy to doctor photos with programs such as Photoshop, and the temptation can sometimes be overwhelming. It’s easy to say “I’d never doctor a photograph that was going to be published,” it’s hard not to bump up the contrast, remove the red-eye, make this part of the photo a little lighter, that part a little darker (just to help the composition, you understand)…. At what point does it go from touch-up work to forged photography?

Simply messing with the lightness and darkness of photographs (called “dodging and burning,”) got Time Magazine in a spot of trouble when they ran a picture of O.J. Simpson’s mug shot after the slow-speed Bronco chase. While Newsweek ran the photo pretty much as is, Time’s version was darker and more sinister. The illustrator responsible said that he wanted to make the image “more artful, more compelling,” by illustrating the shadow that had fallen over a then-loved sports figure (it’s true – O.J. Simpson at one time played football). Enough people saw it as “demonizing the black man” that time did something they had to that point never done – they pulled the cover and replaced it so that the one that hit the newsstands was a much less controversial shot (only subscribers to the “evil” cover, so call now!).

Of course, photo retouching isn’t a new game. Russia was an old pro at it in the 1920’s (pre-Photoshop). Probably the most famous case was that of Leon Trotsky, a friend of Lenin who ran afoul of Stalin’s politics. Suddenly, like a teenage boyfriend who cheated, he was eliminated from the photo albums, and from the public record. When you consider the technology the Soviets  had to work with, it wasn’t a bad job, actually.

Next week, we’ll take a look at modern examples — some funny, some not-so-much — of altered photos being used to tell stories that should never have been told.

TO BE CONTINUED…

The Plot: Set in World War II, the film follows the exploits of a group of Jewish U.S. Army soldiers behind enemy lines, led by Lt. Aldo Raine (Brad Pitt), with one mission and one mission only – to kill each and every Nazi they come across and spread as much fear and chaos as possible while doing it.  When word comes that the entire German high command, including Adolph Hitler, will be present at a Nazi propaganda film premiere in Paris, the target is too tempting to pass up, both for the “basterds” and for the theatre’s owner Shosanna Dreyfus (Mélanie Laurent), who has her own reasons for wanting revenge on the Third Reich in general, and Col. Hans “The Jew Hunter” Landa in particular.

The Verdict: The plot of the film is simple, and in no way groundbreaking. The film’s strength is in the WAY it’s being told. The fun thing about Quentin Tarantino films is that you can tell they were made by someone who loves movies; not cinema – movies. His voice is that of a fan who has, somehow, been allowed to live the dream of the perfect job, and “Inglourious Basterds” is a full-throated shout.

If you’re the squeamish type, this might not be the film for you. Visually, the film is very similar to “Kill Bill,” from the “chapter” titles to the sometimes over-the-top violence. There are, however, scenes that are primarily dialog that go on, that would, in a hands of a less-confident director, become tiresome. I never felt that in this film. Those scenes, from the first scene at a French dairy farm to a spy mission in a bar’s basement, play their dialog as if it was music, and the music builds to a crescendo that is at once anticipated and still shocking.  The final scene in the theater is brilliant, both visually and from a story-telling perspective.

Bottom line, if you like Tarantino’s films, this is the best one since the “Kill Bill, Part One.”

Interesting Tidbits:

• Why the misspelling in the title? Tarantino said he’d never tell. “You do an artistic flourish like that,” he said, “and to explain it would just take the piss out of it and invalidate the whole stroke in the first place.”

• His performance in this film is good enough that I officially forgive Brad Pitt for his part in the film “Babel.” If you knew how much I hated that piece of overwrought Oscar-bait, you could fully appreciate that level of praise.

• This isn’t a documentary – don’t write a history paper based on this film. You’ll know what I mean when you see it….

I love the movies. Love, love, love the movies. I grew up an only child, and one of the things I liked to do, as soon as I was old enough, was to go to the movies by myself (one nice thing about being an only child is that — usually — you’re comfortable with your own company). Sitting in the darkened theater with popcorn and a coke, and someone was about to tell me a story — it was a kind of everyday magic.

<old fart moment> The defining movies of my childhood were the “Star Wars” films, “Raiders of the Lost Ark,” “Superman” (which was amazing on the screen, but doesn’t really hold up as well as some of the others, which isn’t to say I don’t still get the goose bumps during that opening credit sequence), “Close Encounters of the Third Kind,” etc. I feel like it was a golden era for a small boy in an oversized seat, something that kids don’t have today. I feel bad that the summers of their childhood will be filled with disposable films like “G.I. Joe,” “Transformers,” and other pieces of cinematic crap “events” that no one will really remember a decade from now. By 2017, no one will really be going to rescreenings of “Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer.” </old fart moment>

I love movies so much that, with the help of a very understanding wife, we remodeled the basement of the house we bought last year into a big-screen theater with surround-sound and décor that looks it was designed by a 12-year-old boy with a budget. Have I mentioned that I love my wife?

<old fart moment.2>The theater of my youth was Showcase Cinemas on Bardstown Road in Louisville. It was a multi-screen cinema, and sure, you could tell when screens were added later because of the space allotted — more screens means more butts in seats means more money, so theaters got smaller — but it still had some really, really big theaters. Screen one was massive, and screens four and five will always be the theaters that I had the perfect “Star Wars” screening experience. That Cinema is gone now (actually, it’s still there, just rotting away). Modern theaters have fallen prey to the “strip mall” mentality. No personality — just a box to watch a film in, and then get the hell out. </old fart moment.2>

Maybe as screens at home get bigger, the “event” feeling of being at a movie shrinks. This leads to a whole mass of people not knowing — or worse, not caring — how to behave at a theater. And it’s not just kids. Adults are losing the ability to watch a movie in public, and it’s not pretty. It’s not your living room, and no one wants to hear your personal commentary, and being irritated at people in front of me opening their phones (which in a darkened theater, looks like a little flashlight) who just can’t NOT TEXT for TWO FRACKIN’ HOURS ruins the experience a little.

But I digress.

One of the best things about films, as I discovered a bit later as my circle of friends and family grew to the point where being an only child didn’t matter, is discussing films afterwards. Sometimes, after a great film, you can talk about plot, subtext, nuance, history and on and on, with each person bringing something different. For a completely different way of looking at your favorite films, take a quick visit to postmodernbarney.com’s Uncomfortable Plot Summaries. All these are accurate,  from a certain point of view (to quote a certain lying-ass old Jedi Knight):

ALIEN: Ship fails to deliver cargo, crew don’t get bonus.

BATMAN: Wealthy man assaults the mentally ill.

CHARLIE AND THE CHOCOLATE FACTORY: Deranged pedophile big-business industrialist tortures and mutilates young children.

FRANKENSTEIN: Scientific advancement proves unpopular with general public.

IRON MAN: Alcoholic rich white man with technology fetish goes vigilante.

RAIDERS OF THE LOST ARK: American yahoo murders soldiers and desecrates religious artifacts for money.

TWILIGHT: Girl gives up college for stalker.

And on and on….

Even films that are inaruably classics can afford to have some holes drilled through them. On AMCTV.com’s SciFi Scanner, novelist and columnist John Scalzi offers his Guide to the Most Epic FAILs in Star Wars Design. “I’ll come right out and say it,” he writes. “Star Wars has a badly-designed universe.” And he makes good points. For instance:

“Stormtrooper Uniforms
They stand out like a sore thumb in every environment but snow, the helmets restrict view (“I can’t see a thing in this helmet!” — Luke Skywalker), and the armor is penetrable by single shots from blasters. Add it all up and you have to wonder why stormtroopers don’t just walk around naked, save for blinders and flip-flops.”

Movies will be a central feature in the coming months for Internet Siteseeing, because they’ve been such a big part of my life, and well, it’s my blog. What are some of your early movie memories? Share, won’t you?

The Plot: The movie is set up to hop around the 500 days of the relationship of Tom (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) and Summer (Zooey Deschanel), alternating between the high times, the low times, and the rock-bottom times — for Tom anyway. He’s a “soulmate” believer, while she thinks love is a nice delusion, at best. If you’re of a certain age, you’ve been there, on one side or the other (or both at different times). Romantics beware: The narrator says right up front that this relationship is not going to end well.

This is a tricky movie review, because I get the feeling that men and women could see this movie and come away with completely different things because of their point of view. In my opinion, Summer is just a tad selfish or evil. She’s either blissfully oblivious about the destruction she leaves in her wake (selfish), or just doesn’t care (evil). A different point of view, of course, is that Summer warns Tom that she’s not looking to fall in love, and more to the point, doesn’t believe that such a thing exists. It’s a fair warning.

The Verdict: Good movie; not sure if it’s a good first date movie. Strike that: it would be a horrible first-date movie. If you’re secure in your relationship, however, it can provide a lot of interesting discussion points on the way home. If you’re not secure in your relationship, however, it can provide a lot of interesting discussion points on the way home. Certain scenes of this movie work very well, with the “Expectation vs. Realty” split screen and Tom’s different takes (depending on his mood) of Summer’s various attributes springing to mind.

Interesting tidbits:
• Male lead Joseph Gordon-Levitt plays one of the head bad guys in the really, really awful “G.I. Joe: The Rise of Cobra.” So, if you can only see one Joseph Gordon-Levitt movie this year (for some reason), make it this one, not that one.

• Zooey Deschanel shows approximately 915% more personality in this film than she did in M. Night Shyamalan’s really, really awful “The Happening.” That’s just an estimate, but I stand behind it.

• So, in summary, both stars have been in really, really awful films. This one’s pretty good, though.

The Plot: The discovery of alien life would certainly be an interesting day on Earth, figuring out where we stand in the grand scheme of things. But, assuming the newcomers weren’t our new alien overlords, what would happen then? According to “District 9,” the aliens could be one more pain in the butt for societies already dealing with a lack of resources.

In the film, a huge ship comes to a hover about a mile above Johannesburg, South Africa in the 1980s, and just hangs there. When we go up to investigate, we find a malnourished group of more than one million insectoid aliens, looking for help. Twenty years later, the aliens have been put up in slums, and the situation is tense on both sides. When the decision is made to evict and relocate the aliens to another camp, the project’s manager, Wikus Van De Merwe (Sharlto Copley), runs afoul of an alien experiment and has to make some hard decisions.

The Verdict: “District 9” is a very rare animal — an intelligent, well-told summer science-fiction film. The effects are there (the aliens are all VERY well done seamless CGI), but the story is solid, and hangs together on Copley’s performance; audiences will be embarrassed, disgusted and encouraged by his character’s actions during the course of the film. It’s an amazing piece of work.

Interesting Tidbits:
• The film was made for $30 million, which is a lot of money to most of us, but by Hollywood standards, this was a shoestring budget for a sci-fi flick. “Julie & Julia,” for instance, had a budget of $40 million.
• The film made $37 million in its opening weekend. Not a bad ROI.
• This is the first real acting role for the film’s main human, Sharlto Copley, who’s worked mostly behind the scenes in other films.

Mini-review for “G.I. Joe: The Rise of Cobra”: It’s not the worst movie I’ve seen this year. That being said, this is the second worst movie I’ve seen this year. It was kind of like watching over the shoulder of a hyperactive six year old playing a video game.

I’ve got to stop watching movies based on Hasbro properties.

By the way, fans of Christopher Eccleston, of which I am one, will probably want to load up a Doctor Who DVD to get the bad taste out of your mouth. And, as a person proud of being from Scottish decent, I object to being the nationality of the bad guy – apparently Cobra rises because of a clan feud 400 or so years ago. (And how does someone just know the Celtic word for “Eject” off the top of her head? Is there even a Gaelic word for “eject?”)

Oh, and a note to the film’s producers – ice floats. No matter how much you bust it up, ice still floats. Just sayin’ you probably shouldn’t base a major plot point on an underwater ice avalanche.