As David H. put it, "The Bhutan Death March of Penguins... it wasn't their war, man."

I'm going to admit this: I've never really been a big fan of animal documentaries. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm just as big a fan of Animal Planet as the next guy, and I can handle watching the inevitable stock footage: the lion eating the gazelle, the crocodile eating... the gazelle... have you noticed that gazelles are like the guys in the red shirt on Star Trek of the animal kingdom?) But back to the movie. Basically, the film charts a year in the lives of a group of Emperor Penguins. Narrated by Morgan Freeman (who, by the way, is the world's first Official Movie Voice Over Guy), we learn of the hard march they must endure to get to their mating ground, finding a mate (a truly noteworthy scene), and the harsh process of child rearing. The film also featured, obviously, some of the most adorable moments in (penguin) film history. The anthropomorphisis has given many people pause in regards to this film, but I disagree. I think that it was what really made the film work. We see that there is a real bond between parent and child. To put it another way, for one of the first times, a film about animals has actually inspired empathy, not just pity, and for that I give this film an A.

Love, European style

***Spoiler Warning***

Richard Linklater knows conversation. In 1995, he got together with American actor and novelist Ethan Hawke and Parisian actress Julie Delpy (note: Ms. Delpy, if you're reading this, I'd like you to consider marrying me.) and began writing a screenplay based on a night that he spent talking to a woman who he had met on a train only that day. What became of that meeting of those minds was Before Sunrise, starring Hawke as Jesse, an American in Europe nursing a recently broken heart, and Delpy as Celine, a Parisian on her way home from visiting her grandmother. When they first meet they, and we, realize that these two are meant for eachother. The dialogue manages to be realistic yet flows like poetry. It's romantic realism. The two meet, connect, and discuss family, death, sex, friendship, love... in short: life. The romance rings true. Each touch, each kiss, Linklater and the unmistakable chemistry between the two make us feel as if we ourselves were walking through Vienna that summer. When they part, they agree to meet again in six months. Of course, they dont. Nine years later, Jesse (scruffier, looking like a lone wolf) is in Paris on a book tour (a book based on their night together) and runs into Celine. Elapsing in real time, the two reconnect and talk for an hour and a half, discussing their regrets and their lives since that night. This film, Before Sunset, also penned by Linklater, Delpy and Hawke, is in many ways more mature than it's little-known but much beloved predecessor. It achieves the true status of a classic romance, and leaving us with one of the greatest endings of all time. These are films that dareto not fall into romantic cliché, but rather discuss, tear apart, and then piece back together the idea of true romance and love, as well as their own limitations. In today’s world where the best films are to be epic and seek to crush you in their glory, it’s nice to see two films that can merely wash over you like sunlight on a Parisian woman’s face in summer. Finally, a love story not afraid to show the fear in love. My grade for both: A.

Music reviewer Jane Holloway's guts are, unfortunately, perfectly fine.

Artist: Aimee Mann
Album: The Forgotten Arm

Intended as a concept album, Mann narrates the relationship of a retired boxer and some chick. Do I even have to tell you that he's a drug addict? So Mann does stick with addiction, what seems to be a popular theme among her past three albums. Despite the familiar subject matter, it seems as if those astringent, literary quips characteristic of all her past records are in short supply. For the most part. "The Forgotten Arm" is more languid and serious, devoid of the punchy, smirk-inducing phrases of previous albums. Those really hooked you. Now it's just unadulterated melancholy, mostly (with a touch of pain); a frank account of addiction. So she sacfriced her biting lyrics for some equally catchy, exponentially more straight-faced fare that's just as literary and half as witty. Big deal. "The Forgotten Arm" is truly durable; the story gradually coalesces with each listen and as usual, it's a strong record.Standout tracks include "Video", "I Can't Get My Head Around It", and "Beautiful." This time she crosses further into ballad territory with "King of the Jailhouse" and "That's How I Knew This Story Would Break My Heart." These tracks are mighty slow but never painfully so. The record maintains Mann's typical tight, simple-yet-rich songwriting craft coupled with a few memorable, quasi-country guitar lines and some nice, pounding piano and bass throughout. "The Forgotten Arm" has got it's hooks but these ones just don't rip your guts out completely. B+

I got a good mind to join a club and beat you over the head with it.

Minister of Finance: Here is the Treasury Department's report, sir. I hope you'll find it clear.
Rufus T. Firefly: Clear? Huh. Why a four-year-old child could understand this report. [to Aide] Run out and find me a four-year-old child, I can't make head or tail of it.

Above is only one of the many truly classic moments of what can be called the unequivocably greatest comedy team in American History. Groucho, Chico, Harpo and Zeppo Marx spent 10 years in Vaudeville, where they perfected routines that leave audiences in today's cynical world just as bowled over with laughter as the cynics who watched it in the 20s and 30s. Groucho was a comedic universe unto himself, at once a leering smart-alleck and hapless prankster. Duck Soup centers around an impending war between two small European nations: Freedonia and Latvania. The new president of Freedonia, however, is none other than Rufus T. Firefly, and between a war and a love triangle, the film achieves great moments of comedy and hilarity. That being said, it's a pretty awful film. The plot is incoherent at best, it runs about a half hour too long, the editing is a joke, and the acting, other than the four brothers, is horrendous. But I guess it's supposed to be. After all, it's not really a film as much as it is a showcase for their routines. So, by all means, see Duck Soup to behold the best of American comedy, the masters in their prime performing all their greatest bits, but please, don't expect anything other than that. (Also look for two of the Brothers' most famous scenes: one in which Groucho and Harpo mirror one another (see the second picture) and Chico and Harpo's confrontation with a lemonade stand vendor. The film: B-. The Comedy: A.

"You don't see that on Animal Planet."

Ben Stiller has a hit-or-miss problem. When he is working on a film that he is passionate about or is working with actors that he respects, he is on, and can produce great, great comedy, such as in Meet The Parents, Reality Bites, or Keeping The Faith. But when he isn't passionate about something, or doesn't particularly care who he is working with, we get, well, Along Came Polly and Envy. In this, it's becoming pretty apparent to me that Stiller was very fond of his co-stars; David Schwimmer, Jada Pinkett-Smith and Chris Rock. The film (which, coincidentally, has been on the Top Ten at the box office since it's debut on May 27th) centers around four animals (Rock, Schwimmer, Stiller and Pinkett-Smith, as a Zebra, Girraffe, Lion and Hippo, respectively) in the Central Park Zoo on Marty The Zebra's (Rock) birthday, who is going through something of a mid-life crisis. One escape attempt and an environmental protest later, the foursome find themeselves in what they first believe to be San Diego, but is really Madagascar. Here, they must reforge shattered friendships and deal with their previously untapped jungle instincts. The film is a rare treat worthy of a place in the Pixar/Dreamworks hall of fame, with all of it's Shrek and Finding Nemo glories. With some of the most astute pop-culture references (watch for a hilarious parody of American Beauty involving steaks) wry observational humor, (sit back and enjoy the banter between two intelligent monkeys, such as "I hear Tom Wolfe's speaking at Lincoln Center. [Phil signs frantically] Well, of course we're going to throw poo at him!" and the misadventures of four Monty Python-esque penguins) and brilliant cameo spots from Sacha Baron Cohen (Da Ali G), Cedric The Entertainer, and Andy Richter, it leaves one to wonder exactly who the filmmakers intended this to be enjoyed by. Well, the answer at least in this case, was seven teenagers with whom I saw the film. It is the rare kid's cartoon that seeks to be a film rather than the preamble to an advertising campaign. A.

Chicken or beef?

Owen Wilson is a very funny man, with a special talent. That talent, of course, is the ability to bring a remarkable amount of charm and down-home comedy to what could just be hokey slapstick (witness him breathe life into the otherwise duds of films like "The Big Bounce'' and even in his two and a half scenes in "Meet The Fockers") Vince Vaughn is an equally funny man. Known until recently as ''that guy'' who steals most scenes in films like "Anchorman" and "Mr. and Mrs. Smith", but showed he could carry a film when he starred in " Dodgeball", bringing a winking realism and sarcasm that the film desperately needed, and delivering true comic greatness in the early 90's "Swingers''. In "Wedding Crashers", which debuted last week at #2, Vaughn and Wilson star as two divorce moderators who, during 'wedding season' (roughly May - June), pose as guests at weddings, and reap the benefits, going by a seemingly endless rulebook which exists only in their minds. Their goal may be less than noble, but their methods are superficially harmless (Vaughn tells fictional war stories; Wilson dances with a 5-year-old bridesmaid.) But then, as must be done, Wilson breaks ranks, and falls for the daughter of the US Secretary of the Treasury (the ever-wonderful Christopher Walken) at her sister's wedding. The bulk of the film takes place in Walken's vacation house, where Wilson pursues Claire (Rachel McAdams), Vaughn is stuck contending with her amorous, if loony brother, violent fiancee, and Walken's other daughter who can just barely keep her hands off him. Actually, she doesnt. Though lacking in the coherency of a plot or reasoning behind character decisions, the sharp script and impeccible chemistry between Wilson and Vaughn and Wilson and McAdams more than makes up for it (along with a cameo by a well-known comic who lends his own special charm to the film.) Though it runs a bit long, it is in all a very, very fun and enjoyable time at the movies. B

Donnie Drek-O.

Let me say this about Donnie Darko: I'm pretty sure that everyone making the film had great intentions, as the film seems to have been made with a certain zeal only attainable after seven shots of Tequila and a midnight showing of Sam Raimi's Evil Dead 2 and the Jimmy Stewart classic, Harvey, followed by a 5 am brainstorm to make a film to live up to those ideals. Then he failed. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Donald Darko lives in a schizophrenia-drug induced haze inconcistently throughout the film, during periods where the wasted Jake Gyllenhal stares meaningfully into a mirror during the presidential election of 1988. When he isn't doing that, he is showcasing lame-ass dialogue with his sister (played by Jake's real sister Maggie), shouting stiff dialogue at his parents (or the nauseatingly contrived character of a motivational speaker-turned kiddie-porn entrepeneur) or snogging his girlfriend (above). The direction is hectic and uncertain, which is more than I can say for the story itself, which is groaning under the pressure of being different and avant garde. One of my main problems with the film would have to be the political diatribes (Bush vs. Dukakis... yawn), but on top of that would have to be random, snake-like air distortions, which are supposed to mean... something. Even more random is Noah Wile's cameo. The characters were inconsitent at best, boring at worst in this inexplicably beloved cult film. Oh yeah, and dont expect to understand the giant alien or Jake's off violent sprees: just nod and play along. That's what they want you to do.Donnie Darko falls flat on all counts, which is exactly what I almost did half-way through the film: fall, face down, asleep.
My grade: D.

So wait: Michael Jackson's a monster but this guy gets a family movie?

***Warning! This Review Contains Spoilers***

"Finding Neverland" bit. Hard. Let me start with the script, with it's starchy, Disney Channel meets Infomercial-like dialogue. The film centers around flailing playwright JM Barrie (played by the usually brilliant Johnny Depp), who is stuck in a loveless marriage. The poor 'ol boy has no inspiration. He's got no muse. A muse, by the way, is usually a beautiful woman who inspires love and passion. But then, Barrie does find his muse, and he begins to write great plays again, and all is well in the kingdom. Oh yeah, did I mention that his muse is a group of 4 ten year-old-boys? They meet in the park, and Barrie soon befriends the band of fatherless scamps who live with their mother (stiffly played by Ms. I'll-never-let-go-Jack herself, Kate Winslet). Throughout the film, it is never clear exactly what relationship Barrie has with the kids, though the director and character assure us at every turn that nothing of "that sort" could ever be done by him. But there's a measure of doubt about the entire film, which seems too undure of itself for us to have any confidence in it. They never explain the relationship between he Ms. Winslet, either. They are shown speaking for probably a minute and a half accumatively, yet by the time of her death (proved to be inevitable from the first scene in the film, shown only by a deep, throaty, periodic cough.) Then there's the pseudo-fantasy that the film resides in. Let me tell you something: unless you're Charlie Kauffman, don't try it. You'll end up making a fool of yourself. And your movie. And for the love of God, Johnny Depp. Why can't you remain the one hollywood actor with any ability to pick your movies, dammit? My grade: C.

What now, Nate?

Shusmky, I hate you. I'll never admit it... but this is a damn good show. Shit, I just did.

Here are the premises of some of today's most popular primetime teen soaps: 1) Bad-boy from wrong side of the tracks lives with the rich and beautiful in Orange County, fistfights ensue; 2) Bad-boy from wrong side of the tracks joins basketball team and fights with estranged brother, fistfights ensue; 3) Chip-on-his-shoulder-boy moves to Colorado to get over his mother's death, fistfights ensue; 4) Girl gets pregnant at 16, raises smart daughter who goes to private school and doesn't have sex until she's 19... wait, what the fuck? That last one is the plot of a show called Gilmore Girls, which was, until my good friend Shumsky suggested I watch it, the subject of many of my rants. There are many things I could say about the show. But very few of them are disparaging. The show's dialogue is smart and funny, characters are just that, instead of being charicatures, relationships are touching and believable... there are black people, for the love of God! This is the WB, we're talking about!!! To add insult to my injury, the two girls are remarkably endearing. Lorelai, (Lauren Graham, who, I'm sure she would hate me for telling you, also starred in Bad Santa) is a smart and sassy and... yeah... gorgeous single mother who finally has embarked on a long-awaited relationship with Luke (i don't know who plays him. but he's gruff.) Rory (Alexis something, who was just in that movie... the one that sounds like porn. something about pants? hang on, lemme check imdb.com... Bledel! Alexis Bledel.) is a smart, funny, equally beautiful Yale student. Neither of them need boyfriends. They often don't have them. So... good for them. Also, lets hear it for a show which references High Fidelity, The Kinks, The Great Santini, Nick Drake, Ice Castles, The Communist Manifesto and The Way We Were in one episode. And Shumsky... burn in hell. It's a good show. Fuck. I'm gonna go watch Rambo: First Blood Part Two.