Major Ben Marco (Denzel Washington) is a veteran of the first Gulf War. On a reconnaissance mission during the war his platoon was ambushed, and they only escaped thanks to the heroic actions of Sgt Raymond Shaw (Liev Schreiber). Driven by his overbearing Senator mother (Meryl Streep), Shaw entered politics after the war, and he is now running for election as Vice President of the US.

After being approached by a soldier from his old platoon who has been having disturbing nightmares, Marco begins to doubt his own memories of the night of the ambush. As he tries to discover what might really have happened, he finds a murky trail that leads him to Shaw, and a conspiracy involving brainwashing, murder, and the sinister Manchurian Global corporation.

I haven’t seen the John Frankenheimer version of The Manchurian Candidate, nor have I read the original novel, so I can only judge this version on its own merits. Washington, Schreiber, and Streep all give convincingly disturbed and disturbing performances, but they are let down by a script that feels less than wholly natural. Also, even though much of the plot revolves around a political campaign, the screenplay studiously avoids any mention of party affiliation. Given the themes of corruption and manipulation, the film could hardly use either of the main US political parties as its basis; but it uses this apparent neutrality to critique both parties, and the attempt feels blunt and clumsy.

Despite this, the film does create an effective atmosphere of tension and paranoia that lasts right up to the climax. It just doesn’t do anything more.

Teacher and unpublished novelist Miles (Paul Giamatti) takes his best friend Jack (Thomas Haden Church) on a trip to the wine country of California for to celebrate Jack’s last week of freedom before his wedding on Saturday. Miles is a wine connoiseur, and his plan is for them to eat good food, play some golf, and sample the finest wines the vineyards’ have to offer. Jack, a rogueish C-list actor, has a simpler and less sophisticated goal: to have a last fling before tying the knot. And he wants to make sure that Miles gets some, too.

This basic set-up could serve as the plot for a brash and farcical buddy movie, but Sideways emphasizes the drama over the comedy. Miles is badly depressed over his marriage that broke up two years ago, and over his chances of ever selling his novel, and he drinks too much. Jack manages to hook the two of them up on a double date, and while Jack practically hops straight into bed with Stephanie (Sandra Oh), shy Miles struggles to find the right things to say to fellow wine lover Maya (Virginia Madsen).

In a meandering series of events, the week plays out with Miles getting ever more frustrated with his inability to progress his infatuation with Maya, and ever more infuriated with Jack’s shameless infidelity. There are a few big laughs, but most of the humour is softly sarcastic, with a touch of bitterness. It’s not a fast-moving story, and in places the film does feel slow and over-extended. But like a fine wine, it’s meant to be savoured and appreciated for its many nuances and flavours rather than downed in a single Hollywood gulp.

Oh. Dear.

There are some films that are so bad, they’re good…. This isn’t one of them. The writing team should be ashamed of themselves. You can almost see Nicolas Cage and Sean Bean cringing with embarrassment as they chew through their interminably dull, and impossibly contrived lines in the first half hour. Does “show, don’t tell” mean nothing to screenwriters these days? Gaahh. At least there’s less talking and more action in the rest of the film.

Plot-wise, the parallels between National Treasure and The Da Vinci Code are obvious. The heroes follow a trail of clues to an ancient treasure, all the while pursued by rival treasure-hunters, and the FBI, who think that the heroes are the bad guys. The big difference between The Da Vinci Code and this film is equally clear: Dan Brown’s book is an entertaining thriller, whereas National Treasure is just a stupid piece of crap.

Australian comedies often display a certain sense of humour that, to the unaccustomed eye, can come across as plain silliness. Most modern Hollywood and British (romantic) comedies try to be quite serious about their humour; filmmakers want you to appreciate their jokes as well as just laugh at them. So it usually takes me a few minutes to change gears whenever I watch an Australian comedy. At first, the lack of pretentiousness strikes me as somewhat immature. It’s only after the first few scenes that I start appreciating it for what it is: plain, honest, and easygoing.

Danny Deckchair is just like this. It starts off a bit silly, with eternal daydreamer Danny Morgan becoming so frustrated with his life and his girlfriend that he implements one of his hare-brained ideas: to see how many helium ballons it takes to lift him and his lawn chair into the sky. And he really does get carried away.

But once the opening act is over, the film gives way to a sweet love story, and a heart-warming tale about finding yourself and following your dreams. I had never really pictured Rhys Ifans as a romantic lead, but opposite Miranda Otto he really shines with an innocent, playful quality that is totally endearing. It’s definitely worth a look.

Ah, forget it. I was going to write about the quality of the animation, how the story cleverly draws on and extends themes from the superhero genre, the sharpness of the script, the utterly masterful direction, and voice work that probably deserves an Oscar all of its own… but it’s just too much. There are few films this year that can touch The Incredibles for its blockbuster combination of energy, emotion, action, and sheer fun. And diving beneath the surface splendour, it shows the kind of filmmaking skill, depth, and maturity that few films ever attain. It’s simply a great film.

Alfred Kinsey is the man who almost single-handedly revolutionised sexual research in the late 1940s and early 50s. With his exhaustive studies of human sexual behaviour, not only did he bring some hard data to a field previously dominated by anecdote and prudish superstition, but his reports also became mainstream bestsellers, and are given credit for kick-starting the sexual openness and freedom of the latter half of the 20th century.

Kinsey is a look at the life of this unusual, shy, and highly driven man. Liam Neeson takes the title role, with Laura Linney playing his wife Clara. Their relationship, and Kinsey’s research form the core of the story, with Kinsey’s close friend and research associate Clyde Martin (Peter Sarsgaard) weaving the two threads tightly together. The screenplay takes great delight in juxtaposing sweet romantic innocence and 1940s attitudes with unflinching sexual frankness, to both humorous and sympathetic effect. It’s a warm, informative, and above all joyful film.