Scarlett Johansson's curious career is at a crossroads

Scarlett Johansson has become one of the biggest, most bankable female stars on the planet. She is undeniably a sex symbol -- any Google image search finds virtually nothing but pictures of her in some state of undress -- but she is also politically engaged and seemingly pretty affable.

That said, she doesn't have a definitive star persona.

At 32, by Hollywood's sexist standards, she is entering this strange period where the industry typically starts to marginalize women.

Despite being a happily married mom now, she is still an object of desire for male moviegoers, and her latest Ghost In The Shell, has her in yet another skintight outfit dispatching bad guys with highflying kicks and gunfire, not unlike she did in the hit movie Lucy.

Curiously, she has never been even nominated for an Academy Award. She has never, for the most part, done a role to downplay her beauty in a bid for prestige. She has never quite shown tremendous range, although she has dabbled in quirkier less mainstream fare, such as her voice-only role in Her and her truly underrated, largely silent performance in Under the Skin.

I remember first encountering her in Ghost World, where she is actually the sidekick of the lead character played by Thora Birch. Her real breakthrough was in 2003's Lost In Translation, where she held her own opposite Bill Murray in arguably his career-best performance. Even in that film, the opening shot is a close-up of her buttocks, and whether this has been intentional or not, she has often been portrayed as an object first and a character second.

Scarlett Johansson in Under the Skin

After the success of that film, Johansson seemed ubiquitous at the movies, many of which weren't particularly memorable. The two standouts for me were a pair of Woody Allen films. Johansson was briefly labeled his new muse in the press, and their partnership yielded two of the best movies of both their careers Match Point and Vicky Christina Barcelona.

In both films, Johansson plays a fiercely intelligent, sexy woman who is also vulnerable, moody and needy. She is both believable and charismatic in both, and I think both hint at what a compelling actress she is capable of being when a director gives her more to work with.

Now, she is fine and fun in the Avengers and Captain America movies, but until she gets a standalone film as the butt-kicking Natasha Romanoff (and all indications are that she won't), the character will always feel like a marginal one within the greater universe of those movies.

Which brings me back to Under the Skin, one of my favorite films of 2013 and one of my wife's favorite films of all time. Part of what made that film such a stunner was Johansson's uncharacteristic performance. Its slow paced and open-to-interpretation script probably doomed its chances of ever being a big commercial hit, but sadly almost all the publicity the film received was surrounding the fact that it was the first movie in which Johansson would appear nude.

That's a real shame, because the film presented some really interesting new directions for Johansson's career. I am a fan and I generally enjoy her movies, but I'd love to see her make more artistically risky movies, where she undermines her image or at least plays against it.

I think right now she is at a crossroads. She has proven she can deliver at the box office and now the true test of her enduring starpower is whether she has the acting gravitas to challenge and surprise audiences on a consistent basis. I'm rooting for her.

'Raw' is a squirm-inducing sibling rivalry horror-comedy

I expected the new French thriller Raw to be many things based on its kinetic trailer. I thought it would be intense (it is), that it would be gory (it is) and oddly sexy (it is that too), but I must admit I never expected it to be funny.

The film, directed by Julia Ducournau, is generating buzz for its grisly qualities -- it is about cannibalism in part, after all -- but it's not so much terrifying as it is queasy and creepy. And at it's at heart a very clever dark comedy about competition between sisters taken to its furthest extremes.

It's a visceral, dynamic piece of work that feels like a wholly original vision. If you can stomach it (and for some, that'll be a big 'if').

I like to think of myself as someone with a high tolerance for gore, and this film takes an almost gleeful delight in reveling in its grossness, but it wouldn't work if its only selling point was shock value. As with all great genre films, it works because you genuinely care about the characters.

It's about a young vegetarian girl (Garance Marillier) attending a very intense, by any standard, veterinary school. The upperclassman, which include the protagonist's charismatic older sister, indoctrinate the new students with some truly brutal hazing techniques (including the forced eating of rabbit kidneys) which seem more at home at some kind of post-apocalyptic fantasy world than the modern one.

Marillier is sympathetic and believable throughout, even when the plot takes a turn towards the truly macabre. But the movie also never settles into the traditional rhythms of a horror film, there are barely any jump scares and no supernatural element whatsoever, which is some ways makes the film that much more unsettling.

Ducournau bathes scenes in gorgeous lights and colors, supplies a throbbing soundtrack and creates an immersive atmosphere infused with sexuality and menace. The results are shocking and always watchable.

Its humor springs out of its sheer audacity -- the movie's willingness to 'go there' in some truly awkward and intimate ways. Now, this may be the result of the fact that this is far from a Hollywood production, but hopefully those American studios are taking notes, because this is the kind of bold, unpredictable moviemaking we always need more of.

I can't recommend it to be people who are easily made uncomfortable or who are in the mood for light entertainment. But I found the experience of watching it truly exhilarating, which is all I could have asked for.

'The Love Witch' is a seductive homage in 'air quotes'

The Love Witch is a bizarre kind of comedy -- the type that is played so straight and earnestly that the casual viewer might take it too seriously.

A word of caution -- this is definitely not a movie for everyone.

The film, which came out last year, received widespread critical acclaim, ending up on a lot of top 10 lists, is a masterpiece of production design -- it looks and plays like a long-lost Russ Meyer film -- but the woman behind it, writer-director Anna Biller clearly has something more on her mind than just satire.

Sure, it has incredibly stilted acting, awkward staging and it appears to be a pastiche of modern times mixed with some heightened homages to 1960s psychedelic exploitation films -- but the movie, with its silly plot about a witch using and discarding men at will, has a feminist message and just enough oddity about it to make it feel more like a David Lynch film than an Austin Powers one.

It's a really precarious tightrope Biller's walking -- it's hard to knowingly make a 'bad movie.' When filmmakers try to do so, by deliberately being campy or kitschy, the results often feel cynical and lazy. Think Snakes on a Plane or, quite frankly, a lot of James Franco's vehicles.

But Biller clearly has affection for the sexually-tinged horror films of the late '60s and early '70s, and that's reflected in the sets, costumes, and Technicolor look of the film -- all of which Biller reportedly designed herself.

She's also aided tremendously by her cast -- especially the doll-like leading lady Samantha Robinson (who resembles and sounds a lot like Alison Brie) -- who may or may not be in on the joke, but perform the largely symbolic parts to perfection.

Just the way Robinson delivers the line "A homicide? How horrible," brought a smile to my face. And Gian Keys is wonderful as a thick-headed, square-jawed police officer who would feel right at home in the old Batman television series.

The movie's oddball rhythms (including an extended Renaissance fair sequence) and soapy soundtrack definitely take some getting used to -- but if you settle in an embrace the absurdity, the movie has some very smart things to say about anti-feminist women and men who calls themselves feminist while still practicing the worst instincts of the patriarchy.

Like Meyer's best films, there is plenty of titillation on the surface and some jarringly goofy jump cuts, but it also is content to immerse you in a world of its own, stocked with brilliantly realized retro imagery and a truly alluring, dream-like quality.

This is the kind of film that requires repeat viewing and could very well become a cult classic; at the very least it suggests that Biller is a director to watch going forward.

Time to 'Hail' this documentary about the late great Chuck Berry

Music lovers all over the world are celebrating the life and legacy of Chuck Berry this week -- the rock legend, who arguably invented the most enduring genre of music of the past half century and then some, has died at age 90. And even though he lived an incredibly productive life, he brought so much joy to the planet, that it feels like he's gone too soon.

For fans, and for the uninitiated, this is an ideal moment to revisit an incredible documentary about Berry's eccentric personality and unique talent: Hail! Hail! Rock n' Roll.

The 1987 film, which came out as Berry was about to enter his early 60s, shows the wily rocker in rare fighting form, and it is also a tribute to the black musicians who never fully got the credit they deserved for getting rock n' roll music off the ground.

The film also features the droll Bo Diddley and the hysterical Little Richard as a bit of a Greek chorus. They describe how daunting it was just to get a contract only to see their music co-opted by white artists who then sold more records by mimicking their style.

Berry, in his shrewdness and finickiness, seems to have risen above the constraints that race and prejudice put on him. He became a hard man -- the film shows him dressing down Keith Richards, Eric Clapton and others for not playing or singing the way he likes -- but he also became an unapologetic original, sly and sophisticated in his thinking, and settled in his own skin.

In one of the film's most exhilarating and oddly moving moments, an off-screen tour manager describes Berry's routine on the road (which he carried on for decades), traveling to gigs solo with a guitar and a single suitcase, driving himself to the show and playing with whatever local band could learn his songs.

A young Bruce Springsteen describes what a rollercoaster ride it was to play back-up behind a legend -- Berry intimidates every other rock star who comes in his wake -- it's telling that everyone from John Lennon to Bob Dylan have bowed down to his genius.

Berry approached his seemingly simple music methodically, even in a calculated way, to maximize its commercial appeal and accessibility.

And besides his musicianship, Berry was also an underrated singer, an unlikely sex symbol, obsessed with money and a deeply, profoundly charismatic person and performer. In our national tendency to commodify our heroes and buff their rough edges (MLK was more than his "I Have a Dream" speech for instance) there is a tendency to attach Berry's name to a few classic hit singles, and silly moments like the culturally insensitive homage in the Back to the Future films.

But Berry was not just a hitmaker. He was a soft-spoken poet. He was an embittered. He was warm and cold, depending on his mood. And he never, ever forgot what he came from -- meaning he has great recall for every slight and success.

Which makes him an ideal subject for a film like this, and director Taylor Hackford (An Officer and a Gentlemen, Ray) wisely puts an emphasis on Berry's patter and high-energy performing. Now his film will live on as a stunning ode and rollicking document of one of music's great iconoclasts.

'Beauty and the Beast' flap shows how far our society has to go

I probably won't be seeing the new live action/CGI mash-up version of Beauty and the Beast.

I have nothing against the movie, I just don't think I am the target audience for this type of thing, and I've always had a hard time getting excited to see purely romantic movies. My wife, on the other hand, will be seeing it with a bunch of her girlfriends today.

That said, it looks very well done -- from a special effects perspective, as well as from a production, design and casting perspective, and it is already trending to become another massive hit for Disney, which is on a real roll with its Marvel and Star Wars franchises.

It's also generating controversy, albeit the asinine, embarrassing kind, because it's updated a minor character from the 1991 animated original to make him overtly gay. This change has no significant impact on the narrative (as far as I know) and in no way takes center stage.

And yet, a theater in Alabama is now boycotting the film (as if that will prevent audiences from seeing it, or knowing that gay people exist). Our president's favorite foreign country, Russia, is banning it for anyone under age 16. And likely hundreds of religious right zealots, who have nothing better to do than get butthurt over the idea that their precious LeFou likes men now, are decrying the film on every social media platform.

I have several initial impressions of this stupidity. It has a time capsule quality to it. Like Rick Santorum's argument -- made on national television -- that gay marriage was a slippery slope to bestiality. This will be one of those faux controversies that we look back on and shake our heads -- both bemused and appalled that our society was ever so ignorant.

Gaston and LeFou in the new Beauty and the Beast

It's telling that this backlash has arrived just weeks after the miraculous Best Picture victory of the forward-thinking LGBT-themed film Moonlight. Lost amid the odd circumstances in which it was rewarded, was the fact that with its entirely black cast, and willingness to avoid cliches (it doesn't punish its gay characters by killing them off), Moonlight's victory signaled that Hollywood may be finally opening its doors to broader representation and understanding.

And Disney, a company founded by an FBI informant who some have suggested had fascist political leanings, and a brand which has for decades defined itself as a vessel for codifying conservative family values, has begun to show a real 'woke-ness' when it comes to social issues.

With some fanfare, the company rebuked North Carolina and threatened to pull their productions out of other Southern states when they started to roll back rights for their transgender citizens.

And in their Marvel and now, Star Wars, productions, they have started to make a real effort to put women and minorities in positions of power and prominence, so much so that last year's most popular film, Rogue One: A Star Wars Story, was vilified by people in the alt-right and white supremacists (which are the same thing) because of its racial diversity. They actively rooted for its failure, and well, we saw how that worked out.

Also, you may recall some similar hackles greeting the decision to out the Sulu character as gay in a subtle maybe-3-second moment in the most recent Star Trek film. Once again, the sky didn't fall.

The same fate will greet Beauty and the Beast. It will be an enormous hit, and not because it's trying to somehow indoctrinate children with LGBT-friendly thoughts (although, if a child walks out of the theater with a sense of normalcy and sameness, that's not a bad thing). It'll be a big hit because it's a well-made, recognizable story that audiences love, and while I am sure the loud minority whining about a gay character is disappointing for Disney, it won't hurt their bottom line.

In other words, I don't think gay characters are going away. Just like real-life gay people they are here to stay, and that means you can either get over it or become Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, by burying your head in the sand and pretending that a massive population of people just doesn't exist, while the overwhelming majority of the rest of the world marches past you.

'Hacksaw Ridge' and the cinematic religion of Mel Gibson

It's easy to see why the script for Hacksaw Ridge would appeal to Mel Gibson. It's heavily infused with the themes that have resonated throughout his short but evocative filmography as a director -- sacrifice, visceral violence and heavy-handed religiosity.

As I suspected before I saw this unlikely Oscar contender, Hacksaw Ridge is about as subtle as a heart attack and it's so broad and old-fashioned at times that it nearly capsizes in its own hokiness. But Gibson does have an eye for striking visuals and this film is eminently watchable, even if every ten minutes or so it's also eye-roll-worthy.

For the uninitiated, the film tells the compelling true life story of Desmond Doss, a committed pacifist who nevertheless enlisted in the army to serve as a medic in World War II in the hopes that he would never actually have to kill anyone or even hold a gun.

Andrew Garfield is uniquely suited to this part. Even if he can't find his way around a natural southern accent, his big open face and aww shucks delivery helps the movie stay afloat during its early rough patches, which include a rushed cliched romance and a rushed cliched basic training sequence featuring a past-his-prime Vince Vaughn.

The presence of Vaughn, as well as Sam Worthington, suggests Hollywood now has at least a sociopolitical comfort level with Gibson, whose off-screen antics and persona hover over the film uncomfortably throughout.

While it's true that other polarizing auteurs like Roman Polanski and Woody Allen both indelibly put their stamp on every film they do, Gibson's crimes -- racial and anti-Semitic bigotry and domestic abuse -- feel fresher and less resolved. I'd like to say that I viewed this film on its own terms, but I didn't and probably couldn't.

Gibson in some ways reminds me of Clint Eastwood as a filmmaker (and I say this with the caveat of having never seen The Passion of the Christ). He has some of the same flaws and strengths. Both have a clarity of vision and a precision of execution that I admire and that harkens back to Hollywood's golden age, but at the same time Gibson and Eastwood share a penchant for simplicity and paper tiger antagonists even when the material cries out for sophistication and a more nuanced hand.

Had Hacksaw Ridge come out in the 1940s or 1950s, it would be considered deftly ahead of its time. But viewed with a modern eye,  it's really only the deftly staged and appropriately gruesome battle scenes that give the film more contemporary dimensions.

This is where Eastwood and Gibson's talent diverge for me. Eastwood has made some deep and nuanced films that work on more than one level, whereas Gibson's cinematic bloodlust is both his greatest asset but also seemingly the only thing he does best.

It's almost as if he is half a great filmmaker -- and perhaps this is why Apocalypto may be his most wholly satisfying film because it puts much more emphasis on movement than story and dialogue.

Reportedly, his newfound resurgence (behind the camera at least) has made him a favorite to direct the inevitable sequel to Suicide Squad (I wonder how Viola Davis and Will Smith feel about that!) and in a way that intrigues me.

First of all, almost any filmmaker would improve on the original, but also, Gibson might lend the material a much more attractive visual palette and craft action scenes that make sense, rather than serve to sell toys. Also, that film's comic book origins may be a better fit for Gibson's bellicose style of jingoistic storytelling.

As far as Hacksaw Ridge is concerned, it doesn't really come into its own until its second half where the narrative gives away to the carnage of war. Gibson likes lingering on severed limbs and there are some supremely nasty bits of business on the battlefield. Some of it is very striking and kinetic filmmaking, albeit devoid of much humanity (the Japanese are really not afforded any genuine characterization) besides Garfield's awestruck face.

This may be one case where the more mindless the material the better.

Can 'Get Out' make Oscar voters 'stay woke' 'till the end of the year?

Until something better or more interesting comes along, writer-director Jordan Peele's brilliant and provocative horror-comedy mash-up Get Out is the reigning movie of the year.

It's become that rare smash that has achieved both critical and commercial consensus about its greatness, and its historically low week-to-week decline at the box office has proven that it has staying power.

Here is a mini-budgeted movie that has real timeliness in terms of its subject matter and an irresistible twisty plot that I believe lends itself to repeat viewing.

And, to my pleasant surprise, it's already generating conversation about whether it can reasonably be considered an Oscars contender.

Now, ironically, before Moonlight's upset victory in the Best Picture race at this year's Oscars, I had been busy making the argument that the awards show no longer matters. Besides dwindling viewership and uncertainly about whether a win there necessarily translates to more financial success, it just also seemed like the process and show itself had become too antiquated for our modern age of media consumption.

That being said, if a genre movie like Get Out were welcomed into the Oscar fray, I would start to reconsider some of my well-earned prejudice about the Academy Awards. Moonlight's victory did show that the academy's efforts for diversify paid off. Sure, there were a historic number of African-American nominees -- but the representation of La La Land suggested a lot of strength and appeal. So for a small, starless movie like Moonlight to win the biggest prize was impressive.

And the inclusion of a blockbuster action movie (and a sequel to boot) like Mad Max: Fury Road the year prior is no small feat either.

Horror, however, has been the red-headed stepchild of the industry for decades. That genre, along with comedies, almost never get prestige adoration. Perhaps in part because they are usually cheap to produce and so many of their kind permeate the marketplace that when a truly great comedy (like last year's Hunt for the Wilderpeople) or this year's Get Out, crossover and find success with the critics, the Oscars still ignore them.

Every once and a while a comedic performance (think Melissa McCarthy in Bridesmaids) ekes into a category and occasionally even wins (Kevin Kline for A Fish Called Wanda, Marisa Tomei for My Cousin Vinny), but it's an uphill battle.

There have been some critically lauded horror films to get on the Oscar stage. The Exorcist was competing in a host of categories back in 1974, but didn't take home any of the big prizes. Kathy Bates did win an Oscar for her iconic leading role in Misery, but that looks more like an outlier with each passing year (although I was thrilled to see Rosamund Pike make the cut for her terrific work in Gone Girl).

There are several factors working against Get Out, unfortunately, although I am rooting for it to stick around in voters' minds by the end of the year.

It has no likely Oscar-nominated performance - Don't get me wrong, the cast of Get Out is uniformly excellent, especially star Daniel Kaluuya, his sidekick Lil Rel Howery and the scene-stealing Betty Gabriel. But the real star of the film is writer-director Jordan Peele. Usually Oscar movies boast award worthy performances as part of its selling point and because this is such an ensemble film that may be difficult.

It's just so early - No film has triumphed at the Oscars that was released in February since Silence of the Lambs, ironically the last "scary" movie to get real love from the academy. That was 26 years ago, and the calendar has gotten even less friendly to quality films, which I have lamented repeatedly. And so it will likely have to compete with a host of holiday season releases which will be more traditional, and more importantly, fresh in voters minds.

Oscar voters are snobby - As we saw in 2016, when the academy couldn't bring itself to reward Sylvester Stallone's award-worthy work in Creed, or their inability to even recognize edgier genre movies like A History of Violence or Green Room, the Oscars are still stuffy and often out of touch. Are they as bad at the Grammys? Nothing is. But the Academy voters are still stubbornly drawn to films which either make them feel warm and fuzzy about the past or fit into a neat and tidy drama box. Get Out is anything but conventional, which will probably hurt it in the long run.

Still, I'm thrilled that people are even making the case that it should be an Oscar contender, which sometimes is half the battle. Mad Max: Fury Road hung around after a summer release in part because its fans kept championing it and singing its praises throughout the rest of the year.

And, in many ways, Get Out is already a winner because it has become a bonafide blockbuster and turned Peele into a real auteur seemingly overnight. If you saw it in a movie you wouldn't believe it.

Flashback 1997: My top 10 favorite movies from 20 years ago

Oh the '90s. It's been said before but it really must be said again and again -- what a relatively decadent and trivial time it was. We didn't feel haunted by the ever-present threat of international terrorism (although domestic terrorism was, and still is, a bitch) and while partisanship was still totally a thing, we were hardly as polarizing a nation as we are today.

The movies reflected that light and breezy ethos, and with the economic booming and the world largely at peace, it makes perfect sense that a bloated romance like Titanic would be the most dominant film of the year (really the next year since most audiences saw it in the first part of 1998) and take over awards season.

I have only seen it once in its entirety, but I have a sneaking suspicion that while the film's technical achievement was and is undeniable, I can't imagine the clunky storytelling has aged as well. Certainly Avatar is that rare film that feels dated just a handful of years since it came out.

Ironically my favorite film of the year was not a hit and was oddly sidelined during awards season, but like all great movies it has hung around and found its place firmly in pop culture as a breakthrough for its director and many of its stars. But I'll get to that later. Here are my top 10 favorite films from the year 1997:

10) Austin Powers: International Man of Mystery - It's hard now, after all of the bloated sequels, irritating imitations and over-saturation was an oddball curio the first Austin Powers film was. It was a very small hit that ended up becoming a word-of-mouth sensation on home video, but on closer inspection it's probably one of the more personal films ex-Saturday Night Live star Mike Myers ever made. It's a loving parody of the British spy films of his youth, mixed with a an homage to the absurdist comedy that inspired him. It still holds up and it's hilarious.

9) Starship Troopers - I must admit I was late to the game with this movie. I, like a lot of people, initially didn't realize the director Paul Verhoeven was clearly making an intentionally campy sci-fi, which is as much about American military and commercial hubris as it was about giant, CGI bugs. Cast perfectly with the wooden and Aryan-like Casper van Dien, this wild, excessive adventure is a lot of fun if you watch in the right context. It's exciting to see Verhoeven, fresh off his triumph with Elle, finally getting the credit he deserves as an auteur.

8) Hoodlum - I am a huge sucker for gangster films, even when the quality varies. This fact-based take on the rise of iconic Harlem kingpin "Bumpy" Johnson will never get high marks for originality, but its star Laurence Fishburne is such a cool as ice, dynamic presence and the film has a really enjoyable pacing to it, that I've always overlooked its imperfections. This was one of those movies I discovered on cable after school at some point and just kind of became cinematic comfort food for me.

7) Lost Highway - This is one of David Lynch's scariest and probably lesser known creations. Apparently, it was inspired in part by hysteria over the O.J. Simpson trial, which had gripped the nation in the years before its release. It has elements of a horror film -- a chic L.A. couple appears to be getting terrorized by some nefarious stalker -- but as with nearly all Lynch films its narrative begins to fold in on itself and grow more complex. Some standout moments -- Robert Loggia's confrontation with an inhospitable driver, Robert Blake's incredibly creepy cameo -- are what make this an unforgettable movie for me.

6) Cop Land - Nearly twenty years before Creed, Sylvester Stallone showed he can really act in this emotional thriller about a sheriff in a town full of corrupt cops. Terrific supporting work from Harvey Keitel, Robert De Niro and Ray Liotta, elevate his performance, but this is Stallone's show. He packed on weight to play an in-over-his-head pushover, and watching his character slowly discover his inner hero is inspiring. A modest success when it first came out, this film is ripe for rediscovery.

5) LA Confidential - In many critics' minds, this was the film that should have won Best Picture, and it's easy to see why. A throwback film noir with impeccable production values, it's the kind of glamorous Hollywood movies that didn't make anymore then and still don't now. Of course, it has a lot more sex and violence than the old detective films did -- but also a lot more nuance too, thanks for fully realized characters played by Kevin Spacey, Russell Crowe and Guy Pearce. A very tightly constructed, satisfying film.

4) Four Little Girls - Spike Lee's most emotional and resonant documentary film tells a truly heartbreaking story, about the four young girls murdered in a hate crime bombing of a black Baptist church at the height of the civil rights movement. Lee is delicate and measured here, allowing the victims' families to pay tribute to their daughters and impress us with their resilience. The film also doesn't shy away from showing us the righteous indignation and injustice of what took place. One of my favorite documentaries of all time and a painful viewing experience.

3) The Game - David Fincher's surreal and brooding thriller left an indelible impression on me when I first saw it in theaters. It boasts one of Michael Douglas' career-best performances (it feels like a culmination of much of his prior work) as an arrogant, bored businessman who gets sucked into what feels like a life or death choose your own adventure game by his n'er do well brother (played with great spirit by Sean Penn). If you surrender to the fantasy of it, it's a really fun ride, and the hallmarks of Fincher's gorgeous style all can be seen on display here.

2) Jackie Brown - Coming on the heels of his blockbuster hit Pulp Fiction, Quentin Tarantino's ode to Pam Grier and blaxploitation films could probably only be a letdown, but upon closer inspection its his most grounded and relatable movie to date. Tarantino stocks his film which actually plausible human beings here in one of his all-time best ensembles. Everyone shines here. Grier is the epitome of cool. Sam Jackson makes a wonderfully vain and temperamental bad guy. Michael Keaton is a jittery delight. But the real find here was Robert Forster was the real find here. A veteran character actor who gives one of the most subtle and sweet performances in a Tarantino film as a bounty hunter with a crush. This film is always watchable and rewarding.

1) Boogie Nights - An epic film about the 1970s and '80s and the evolution of the porn industry -- it has a flawless cast. incredible performances, it looks great and it sounds great, it's both funny, scary, exciting and sad. So naturally it wouldn't even make it into the Best Picture race. This was the film that made Hollywood pay attention to P.T. Anderson, one of the best and more original filmmakers working today. And this movie, which is so audacious that I still find new things to like about it every time I see it, was like an electric shock to the cinema atmosphere. It could have been a Tarantino rip-off or just exploitative, but Anderson had something much more profound in mind, and he delivered.

'Logan' takes a bold risk, turns a 'superhero film' into a western

I've long felt that superhero films, when they are at their best, share a certain DNA with the western genre -- with their penchant for angsty, reluctant heroes, damsels in distress and seemingly insurmountable odds for victory over the villains.

Logan, the new Wolverine film, and purportedly the last one to star Hugh Jackman, takes my contention to a new, refreshing extreme -- it pretty much is a western -- an overt homage to Shane, one of the most iconic American westerns of all time.

I haven't seen either of the previous two standalone Wolverine films, but this film is so self-contained I don't think I've missed anything too significant. I've never been a huge fan of the big screen X-Men films either, although I thought Jackman has been consistently strong as Wolverine, and he gives a great, gritty performance here (on par with his underrated work in Prisoners) in what should be a memorable swan song for a role he first played nearly 20 years ago.

The big screen X-Men films have been too hit or miss, introducing too many characters and now incorporating time travel subplots that only serve to distance viewers even further from their emotions. I think a mistake was made early on to give Wolverine more development and screen-time than the other mutant heroes, but alas this may be why Logan feels like more of an event than it probably should.

This brutally violent film earns its R-rating, but unlike Deadpool, which seemed to revel in violence and profanity for the giddy thrill on it, the gore in Logan serves the story this time around and it's a riveting, exciting one -- a chase film and a road movie -- where Wolverine, an ailing Professor X (a terrific Patrick Stewart) and a mysterious new young mutant are on the run from bad guys who want to harvest their skills but control their population.

It's hard to view any movie right now outside of the political context in which we're living -- and the X-Men comic book's original concept being a metaphor for racism -- still rings true here and takes on new proportions (the young heroine is Hispanic).

However, this isn't a film necessarily wearing a message on its sleeve, and it is less interested in selling toys and future installments, than delivering a purely satisfying, one-off action film experience.

There are some terrific, well-staged battles in this one, the kind of unbroken, fluid action that was a hallmark of Mad Max: Fury Road. And Jackman, while still a very formidable physical specimen, genuinely appears over-matched here and that lends the film a credibility, pathos and genuine tension that is sustained throughout the movie.

It's definitely a grisly affair, but unlike so many superhero films, it feels like something really is at stake and the pacing -- which again, feels like a western -- doesn't bombard you with bloated action scenes. It gives you time to get caught up in the characters and the story and what grandeur the movie has to offer emerges gradually, as it keeps the more potentially sentimental moments from feeling clunky.

I have no idea where the X-Men films are headed from here. There have been a lot of starts and stops and having not seen the last, poorly reviewed installment, I genuinely have no idea when they are taking place anymore and what characters will go on and which ones won't.

But this film, more than any of the others I've seen, really gets at the essence of what makes Wolverine such a fascinating and cool superhero and it's a great place to start and end for fans of the comic book, as well as the animated series.

It's still early but 2017 at the movies is getting off to a stellar start.

Overrated 'Sully' proves Clint Eastwood is finally past his prime

I have long been a fan of Clint Eastwood, both as an actor and as a director, but ever since his ill-fated 'performance' at the Republican National Convention back in 2012, it's become increasingly difficult to separate his politics from his cinematic prose.

It hasn't helped that many of his recent offerings, like the blockbuster American Sniper, offer an effective if simplistic and jingoistic take on the modern world. The hit 2016 biopic Sully, unfortunately, falls under that category too.

At 86 years old, I have marveled at the consistency and skill he has shown in his work. Eastwood seems to have first peaked as a director at 62 with 1992's Unforgiven and then in the early 2000s he had a second hot streak with acclaimed films like Mystic River, Million Dollar Baby and Letters from Iwo Jima, which culminated with his biggest blockbuster to date as an actor, the slyly sophisticated Gran Torino in 2008.

But then, in my estimation, his films started to fall off both in terms of style and substance.

His penchant for quick shoots (he is known for favoring only a couple takes on any given scene) and no frills narratives sometimes neutered films like Invictus. And in the case of J. Edgar, his attempt to be flashier and play with the timeline, turned what should have been a riveting film into a rudderless mess.

Eastwood has shown good taste in his subject matter, but his cinematic contention that there are stalwart heroes who are constantly getting stymied by no-nothing bureaucrats has not worn well. And it's this ethos that hamstrings Sully, a film that probably would have been inevitably slight no matter who directed it.

Tom Hanks is admirable and solid in the lead role, although I'm mystified by why the performance was generating Oscar buzz, besides his track record as an actor. The iconic landing on the Hudson River is well staged, but not quite as harrowing as the crash in Denzel Washington's 2012 film Flight. And the rest of the film feels padded with unnecessary dream sequences and an unconscionable decision to make villainous straw men out of the NTSB.

What is really a rather simple story of an experience pilot who made a gutsy and shrewd decision that saved a lot of lives, is turned into something akin to an indictment of the federal government and an exercise in unadulterated hero worship.

That's not to say that the real-life Sully isn't a hero. But it's as if Eastwood didn't discover any real tension in the story -- besides the events of the crash itself -- and so he manufactured it. This wouldn't matter if it weren't for the fact that for so many viewers, his film will be the first and last draft of history.

Of course, Eastwood will always be a movie icon, and I think deservedly so. But his stubborn refusal to depart from some of his tried and true tactics and lend some of his more recent films the complexity and/or nuance they warrant, suggest for me that his best work has already been done, and will be what his legacy is built on.