Philadelphia Weekly

Ongoing

Nicole Kidman and Hugh Jackman headline an all-Australian cast as a British aristocrat and a cattle driver named Drover, respectively. The two fall ever so reluctantly in love. Upon flying south to sell an inherited ranch in the middle of the Outback, Kidman gets embroiled in a scheme to shortchange her, if not outright kill her, involving a meat baron (Bryan Brown) and a sniveling baddie (David Wenham). D+ (M.P.)

There's one bit of solace to take from David Fincher's unexpected segue into Oscar-bait territory: His heart doesn't appear to be in it. A project that's bounced around Hollywood for more than a decade, Benjamin Button--based on an F. Scott Fitzgerald short about a man who ages in reverse--has wound up in the hands of an excessively talented filmmaker in desperate need of a movie that'll actually make money. C- (M.P.)

Keeping the bold strokes of the original, Keanu Reeves arrives on Earth with his gigantic robot sidekick, announcing that the human race has grown so violent and destructive, it must be annihilated for the sake of our planet. He gradually discovers we're not such terrible people after all and maybe we don't deserve extinction, thanks largely to a tedious drive through New Jersey with Jennifer Connelly and her bratty stepkid (Jaden Smith, Will's son). D+ (S.B.)

Doubt is a "parable" of a monstrous nun (Meryl Streep) at a Bronx Catholic school in 1964 who's trying to destroy a progressive-minded priest (Philip Seymour Hoffman) with baseless accusations of "unhealthy" dealings with the school's lone black student. B (M.P.)

Based on Peter Morgan's smash 2006 stage play, the film attempts to chronicle the travails of shlock TV host David Frost (expertly played by Michael Sheen) as he overpays and underprepares for an epic stretch of interviews with "Tricky Dick" Nixon (played by Frank Langella) C (S.B.)

Clint Eastwood plays Walt Kowalski, a grizzled old Korean War vet who, after the death of his wife, tends to while away the days sitting on his front porch guzzling cans of PBR, offering salty observations on the decline of his white-flight Detroit neighborhood. Barking ridiculous, dated slurs for every minority in his sight, he's like Dirty Harry in the sunset years. A variety of contrivances find Walt begrudgingly befriending a family of Hmong immigrants next door. Young Thao (Bee Vang) is an awkward, bookish kid--prime recruitment material for the local gangs. These thugs make the huge mistake of scuffling on Walt's pristine front yard and kicking over the wrong geezer's garden gnome. B+ (S.B.)

Boasting a beautifully understated performance by Kristin Scott Thomas and little else of merit, writer-director Philippe Claudel's would-be tearjerker ends up suffocated by its own design. Thomas stars as Juliette, recently paroled after spending 15 years in prison for the murder of her only son. Shocking stuff, but Claudel tiptoes and tap dances around this revelation for at least half an hour, dropping hints and insinuations and generally driving us crazy before finally spilling the beans--and even then offering no elaboration. B (S.B.)

As San Francisco's cherished local legend--the first openly gay man ever elected to a public office in America--Sean Penn's Harvey Milk is a buoyant, expansive figure. As droll as he is shrewd, the character is delightful to watch. The real Harvey Milk's lanky stance, queeny mannerisms and honking Noo Yawk accent aren't just fodder for a typical Oscar-friendly dead celebrity impression--they're pushing this actor out of his gloomy old comfort zones. There's such a feeling of playfulness and joy in this performance, I dare say Sean Penn hasn't been this much fun to watch since Fast Times at Ridgemont High or at the very least Carlito's Way. A- (S.B.)

Anne Hathaway, who's barely recognizable beneath a stringy Louise Brooks bob and an omnipresent cloud of sarcasm and cigarette smoke, plays Kym, who's scored a weekend pass from rehab for her older sister Rachel's wedding. Years ago there was a tragedy, the kind of devastation from which no family ever truly recovers, and what's most miraculous about Rachel Getting Married is just how expertly director Jonathan Demme navigates screenwriter Jenny Lumet's hairpin tonal shifts. A (S.B.)