Ratatouille
Man, just hand over the keys to Pixar already. They've figured it out, maintaining an amazing 8-for-8 record. What's really impressive is how good a movie is made out of the rather uninspiring one-sentence pitch: "A rat wants to be a chef." It's really not as marketable or instantly understandable as "toys come to life", and as a result, the movie ends up a rich experience full of great, welcome surprises.

There's no real point in telling you the visuals are fantastic -- you know that. It's a Pixar movie. But the story is great, the characters fantastic, and I will say that this movie has easily the best cinematic "first kiss" that I've seen. Also, it does a commendable job of portraying the sensation of taste as a cinematic visual. Wrap your mind around that accomplishment.

Director Brad Bird ensures that there's minimal shmaltz (one scene between Remy the Rat and his father narrowly skirts that territory) and there's also no cheats. The story progresses as it should and even though, in retrospect, you should have seen some of the directions and destinations coming, it still feels like a treat to arrive there.

Despite the bleeding edge technology used in their movies, in two respects the folks at Pixar are traditionalists, and Ratatouille benefits from it. One, they go for vocal quality, not celebrity marquee value when it comes to their cast. Any other studio would have shoe-horned Zach Braff, Renee Zellwegger or Cameron Diaz into lead roles for unspeakable sums of money. And second -- and this is a mark of pride for them -- there isn't a lick of motion capture in this movie. All the animation is done "by hand" (an odd phrase to say about a CG movie, but it's true). It's a point of much debate among animators, about the merits and demerits of motion-capture animation vs. key-frame animation. I like that they take pride at their key-frame and let the animators' work stand out because of it. It's truly something wonderful to behold.

A+

Live Free or Die Hard
I have a theory that if Spider-Man 3 and Pirates of the Caribbean had been any good, than Die Hard would have borne the brunt of harsh criticism. Instead, it explosively leaps forward as a breath of fresh air surprisingly embraced by even stodgy egghead critics as a summer blockbuster that actually enjoys itself.

There are so many ways it could have gone wrong. Justin Long might have ended up being Short Round or Jar Jar -- too resourceful or too helpless -- but instead he straddles the sidekick line really well without being annoying at all. They might have gone to the "getting too old for this" well too many times, but the movie wisely avoids that. Part of the reason it works is because it rigidly adheres to the template set up in the first Die Hard -- forget the naysayers who complain that this movie has strayed too far from its plausible roots. It actually slavishly follows the first film, except that the movie now plays out on a scale such that John McClane is a rat caught in a maze the size of an entire city rather than an office building. See, Die Hard was NEVER about plausibility. McClane should have broken just as many bones in Die Hard 1 as he should in Die Hard 4. It's about a blue-collar cop sticking it to white collar criminals -- the perfect movie antidote to come out of the unfair little-guy-can't-get-a-break '80s, and that never gets old. Now, instead of effete Euro-trash villains, we get the worst of the Silicon-era metrosexual villain.

And it's great to see his butt handed to him by McClane who, if you look carefully, is basically just a crazy old guy. I mean, seriously. If he wasn't risking life and limb, he'd be the guy buying groceries all the while talking to himself, quipping wise to no real audience in particular.

Sure, he's indestructible, and the action scenes are patently ridiculous (are Navy and Air Force pilots authorized to do that?! Really?!), but the action is crisp and clear, and the movie does a credible job of setting up the internal cyberterrorist as a plausible boogieman. It makes it all the more satisfying when McClane kicks his expensively tailored butt.

B+

Transformers
I can't peg exactly when this trend started -- the Star Wars prequels were definitely big contributors -- but recently there's been a slew of big, popcorn blockbusters that are so steeped in their own mythology that they spend a lot of screen time explaining why all that is happening therein matters.

It's not necessarily a bad thing. The Lord of the Rings movies, for example, have a lot of story to tell. When it works, it feels like you're witnessing a well-woven tapestry unfold, full of rich discovery.

When it doesn't, it's just an unwanted history lesson.

Think back to the early blockbusters of the '70s and '80s and see how rarely it was done back then. The first Star Wars didn't tell you how the Empire came to power and why the Rebellion was fighting it. It shrewdly doled out those stories over 30 years.

Transformers follows the mold of the '80s blockbuster rather well. It wisely relegates its moments of history to an actual history class in the film, and a rushed Cybertronian back-story delivered by Optimus Prime with flashy graphics. It's because the movie knows it's back-story really doesn't make a heck of a lot of sense. Rather than spend the time convincing you that it should, the movie instead concentrates on entertaining you -- and it works surprisingly well considering just how goofball the source material can be.

The movie doesn't wallow in illusions of self-importance like some blockbusters I can name. It wants to make you laugh and wow you, and most often, it succeeds. Unfortunately, with the volume cranked up full blast for each and every attempt, when it fails, the resulting thud is pretty noticable. That tooth fairy joke ain't funny. Neither is just about anything Glenn (Anthony Anderson) shrieks.

The film knows it's silly -- and that its trappings are silly. Witness its use of eBay usernames or Sam (Shia LaBeouf) acknowledging that a pick-up line that incorporates the Transformers tag-line "more than meets the eye" was a dumb move. For those grousing that "OPTIMUS PRIME WOULD NEVER SAY ..." such and such, let me pull up two gems from the animated series:

"As the Earthlings would say, lay it on me, man."
"As the humans say, Fat chance, Fathead!"

There ain't a lot of integrity there to work with. But even still, Optimus Prime stands as a shiny pillar of integrity in this very silly movie, and he brings as much gravitas as a flame-decoed semi truck can -- and that's a lot when you add Peter Cullen's reverberating basso tones.

About two thirds of the way into the movie, though, Transformers loses steam and direction as a mysterious government agency Sector Seven enters the picture and more time is spent on the computer hackers Maggie and Glen. There's a lot of weary exposition and a scene that's supposed to tug on our heartstrings but that doesn't quite work, because for all his flash, Michael Bay lacks anything approaching sincerity.

But it's best to think of that lull as merely a blip soon forgotten as the last act starts, when the evil Decepticons muster their forces with the arrival of the last member of their party.

There are some pretty sizable gaps in logic -- why take the McGuffin sought by dangerous robots into the heart of a populated city? Why is shoving the cube into your chest a reasonable alternative? Why can a character suddenly do something he was unable to do for most of the movie?It hardly matters, though. Your insides are so suitably tenderized by the relentless action at the end, you can just go with it.

The action is big and dense, but unclear. Die Hard actually wins in this category for its choreography that allows you to see all the players. Transformers, enamored with the shaky cam precedents of the Bourne Identity movies and Saving Private Ryan, instead tries to instill realism with frenetic camera moves that work against it.

But that said, it's a great ride, and hopefully you end up thinking, "bring on the sequel, and I'll be there!"

B