INSIDE LLEWYN DAVIS Review

1961, Greenwich Village, New York. The dawn of the early folk music scene. We meet Llewyn Davis, struggling musician. Played by Oscar Isaac (in plenty of films but never a leading solo man), he sits on a stool at a mic before a smattering of an audience inside a dingy club. "Hang me, oh hang me, and I'll be dead and gone," he croons. Performed by Isaac, the music is the first and foremost thing to notice about Joel and Ethan Coen's latest, "Inside Llewyn Davis." The second thing to notice: this is the writer-director duo's perhaps least plot-driven film but the most solemnly meditative since their Oscar-winning "No Country for Old Men." It's a contemplative character study of the highest order and while a bit obtuse, the film looks deep at how a great artist can (or cannot) rise from great adversity.

Llewyn steps off the stage, enters the club's back alley and gets beaten to the ground. Why? We don't know. Just his luck, we suppose. The film is a slow burn as we watch him crash couch to couch, a wandering soul looking for himself. Here's a man not trying to make it as a successful musician but trying to make it at all. He slumps into the apartment of Jean (Carey Mulligan) and Jim (Justin Timberlake). No backstory required. We deduce that Llewyn once slept with Jean and uses her as a crutch. Brashly played up by Mulligan, she hounds on him calling him a useless asshole. If they ever once were, they are no more. With Jim, he and Jean have their own folk group that gets a better reception than when Llewyn plays. It eats at him. Embodying Llewyn, Isaac delivers a bittersweet combination of sorrow and deadpan humor.

One gig from Jim, which Llewyn decides to take for some quick cash, is a goofball song about President Kennedy and rockets, "Please Mr. Kennedy." Adam Driver of HBO's "Girls" sits in as the guy making the cartoonish "whoops!" and "zoings!" of the accompaniment. It's a bad tune that's somehow still highly enjoyable, a signifier of the kind of songwriting care that went into the script. In a rush, Llewyn decides to not sign a contract to receive royalties on the song which, inevitably, will later become a hit. Desperate for exposure and let down by his ancient manager, he hitchhikes to Chicago to put himself in person with a music producer.

Enter a most surrealist vision, a mood which permeates throughout, the film's aesthetic clouded in a dreamlike haze. Llewyn hitches a ride with the quiet, resolute Johnny Five (Garrett Hedlund) and the mythic, rude Roland Turner (John Goodman). How these two came to be, and where are they going? We don't know. They are only a device for Llewyn to continue on his way. A Coen mainstay, Goodman arrives back to his first film for the brothers in 15 years and commands the screen for the brief, bizarre role.

There's also an orange cat. And plenty of other strange, illusive encounters. But there's the cat. The one Llewyn accidentally lets escape from one of his couch-surfing apartment stays. The one he thinks is the same one he lost but ends up being a different orange cat. But there's always the cat. The burden. We follow Llewyn for one week in his life. And at its conclusion, we find ourselves right back where we started. It's a trick the Coens play but not a bad trick; it's an existential one that illustrates an open-ended theme, one about the journey to finally make it. It's cyclical; it's all the same. It repeats and repeats until eventually you either make it -- or, in the case of Llewyn, our sad sack hero, you don't.

MONSTERS UNIVERSITY Review

While it may not be a return to form for Pixar, "Monsters University" is still immensely enjoyable and probably among the best animated offerings we'll see this year, a bright a colorful frolic that packs enough creative punch this animated studio is known for. As a prequel to 2001's "Monsters Inc.," it doesn't brim with the incomparable originality of the first, but these filmmakers also obviously don't want to rest on their laurels.

Directed by Dan Scanlon who wrote "Cars" and from a screenplay by Pete Doctor and Andrew Stanton, the premise is refreshingly simple. A young Mike Wazowski (Billy Crystal) goes on a field trip to Monsters Inc. and ever since dreams to attend Monsters University to become a scarer. Once on campus, Mike meets his roommate Randy (Steve Buscemi), a geek who wants to get in with the cool crowd -- one of the movie's many winks to the original. Mike is a geek who doesn't mind remaining a geek and spends the entire semester skipping out on parties to study.

The bookworm Mike butts heads with a young, cocky Sully (John Goodman) who uses his family name, Sullivan, on the intention of sliding through school and becoming a scarer on his own merit, no studying required. When confronted with an ultimatum by the severe-looking Dean Hardscrabble (Helen Mirren), Mike and Sully are forced to join the same fraternity to compete in the university-hosted Scare Games. Their frat, however, is the opposite of Roar Omega Roar, the popular kids on campus. Oozma Kappa is where Mike and Sully meet fellow teammates Squishy (Peter Sohn), Don (Joel Murray), Terri (Sean Hayes) and Art (Charlie Day). As a bunch of cuddly monsters, these characters and the voice acting are quite funny.

What's added fun about "Monsters University" is that it truly does capture college life, which is cleverly tongue-in-cheek for a kids' movie. The games themselves, a trial of challenges from don't wake the parents to don't scare the teenager, are a whole lot of fun. The movie has a zippy, high energy with pastel hues bouncing together and photo realistic textures making a constant delight for the senses. And in classic Pixar tradition, there's a final hook in the story that might even put a lump in your throat. Pixar fans, have no fear: this is no "Cars 2."

FLIGHT Review

Robert Zemeckis hasn't directed a live-action movie since "Cast Away," so how perfect that 12 years later he's at the helm of "Flight" whose centerpiece is a harrowing 20-minute airplane crash sequence. Nothing tops the FedEx flight disaster in the 2000 Tom Hanks vehicle, but this certainly comes close in its heart-pounding detail and claustrophobic point-of-view placing us right in the cockpit. After escaping stormy weather and turbulence, the plane suffers a mechanical failure sending it into an irreversible nose dive. The fear evoked in the lead flight attendant (Tamara Tunie) and young co-pilot (Brian Geraghty) is a contrast to the calm, level-headed demeanor of pilot Whip Whitacker (Denzel Washington) who rolls the aircraft upside-down to maintain its altitude in a gut-instinct decision.

Hours prior to this very flight, we see Whip hungover in a hotel room. Beer and liquor bottles scatter the room, and he fights on the phone with his ex-wife while a naked woman dresses beside the bed. To jolt himself back to life from his grogginess, he sniffs two lines of cocaine and throws on his dark aviator sunglasses to portray a man completely in control. It's a facade, though, as Whip is a man who's completely lost control, and playing this tortured soul gives Denzel Washington his most hypnotic and powerful dramatic performance in years. And Zemeckis, who recently turned his efforts exclusively toward stop-motion animation ("Beowulf," "The Polar Express"), hasn't lost the ability to draw performances from great actors.

Whip glides the plane with 102 passengers on board into a crash-landing in a vacant field holding nothing but a small church. Only six die in the crash, and to those who don't know Whip personally, he's hailed as a hero. No other pilot could've landed the plane the way he did, and crash simulators following the event prove this. The fact remains, however, that Whip was intoxicated. An investigation from a federal organization goes underway with Whip under close scrutiny. The film, against expectation, is smart in not devolving into mere procedural. Instead, it continues as a brooding and intense character study with phenomenal supporting turns to accompany.

Retreating to seclusion at his grandfather's farm, Whip dumps all remaining alcohol in his possession. He realizes the plane crash was his wake-up call; his opportunity to turn his life around. When his union representative (Bruce Greenwood) and lawyer (Don Cheadle) turn up, however, with the bad news of Whip's toxicology report, whether Whip can stay above the influence of his past behavior or continue his downward spiral comes into question. During his stay in the hospital, Whip meets a drug-addicted woman named Nicole (Kelly Reilly); just when you think it'll be him who saves her, she attends AA on her own, and her disappointment in Whip trumps her ability to help him.

And if John Goodman is to be nominated this year, it should be for his role here (over "Argo") as Whip's drug guru, Harling Mays, who channels the Dude from "The Big Lebowski." He arrives at a crucial moment when Whip is held overnight in a hotel room before the morning of his hearing. In only two scenes, he steals the show injecting the movie with dark humor. Likewise, Melissa Leo commands the screen during another pivotal single scene. A bold claim can be made for ensemble of the year here.

"Flight" is about a man battling his inner demons, and the screenplay from "Real Steel" scribe John Gatins doesn't tell us how to view, or judge, Whip. The film nears perfection, but then backs off at the last minute. It gives Whip the easy option, the nicely wrapped epilogue. Such tumultuous proceedings should've been left more open-ended, not so easily solvable; give Denzel Washington's acting more credit. His impending Oscar nomination proves it.

ARGO Review

Ben Affleck's "Argo" is a blend of incredible true story and Hollywood movie magic. This is illustrated perfectly in the movie's opening explanation of the backstory behind the 1979 Iran Revolution. It's a combination of real world footage and classic storyboard drawings, which sets up two things. It not only mirrors the film's true story of creating a fake movie to rescue six American hostages from Iran, but also emphasizes the style in which Affleck tells this true story. There is close attention to facts with just the right amount of flourish and embellishment. It's smart Hollywood, and it's smart filmmaking. After only two directorial features before this (2007's "Gone Baby Gone" and 2010's "The Town"), Affleck's third feature feels like the work of a real veteran, and it's the one that'll give him his due come Oscar night.

A group of about fifty Americans were taken hostage at the Embassy in Iran, but six of them got away and were secretly housed by the Canadian ambassador (Victor Garber). It's been too long keeping them there, and the CIA needs a plan to get them out. Tony Mendez is a professional CIA "extractor" who's the best at getting people out of these situations. Out of the possibilities the CIA hatches up, it ends up being Mendez's seemingly outlandish plan that becomes the most plausible. At the height of sci-fi movie popularity after the huge success of "Star Wars," the idea of filmmakers doing location scouting in an exotic, foreign land is apparently believable.

Ah, the power of Hollywood. Also the absurdity, and poking fun at the industry is where a lot of the film's humor comes from, which is an unexpected addition considering the life-or-death scenarios of Iran it addresses at the same time. The script from Chris Terrio is a triumph in this complex tonal balance as well as its tight, focused precision in executing the rescue of the American hostages. Most thrillers create tension from car chases and fire fights, but here breathless excitement is manufactured through exquisite timing and careful plotting. It's a race to the airport between Mendez with his fake film crew and the Iranian revolutionaries uncovering the identities of the missing hostages -- and it's white-knuckle, nail-biting suspense.

The setup of the rescue mission had to be fabricated down to the details of a real script, producers and even press coverage. Lester Siegel (Alan Arkin), a hardened and snarky film producer, and John Chambers (John Goodman), an accomplished makeup artist, jump on-board and make sure the project -- which, needless to say, never gets made -- is the real deal. This leads to a script reading at the Beverly Hilton with the "real" film crew in a scene that beautifully intercuts with the "fake" film crew preparing their nerves for the inevitable escape. It's an affecting moment and brings to light the real world implications, how this moment in history foreshadowed the political landscape we live in today.

Affleck's high-class popcorn pleaser shares a love for the transcending power of movies while reminding us why we go to the movies. There's a scene where Iran airport security is shown storyboards for the fake "Argo," and they're enchanted. Performances across the board are great: Cranston easily breaks free of any "Breaking Bad" restraints while Goodman and Arkin prove a comic pairing. Affleck as Mendez is nicely understated, and we learn that he's a father, as well. "Argo" paints Mendez as an American hero, just like, yes, something straight out of a movie.

THE CAMPAIGN Review

Political satire is certainly in the air with this year's presidential election heating up. Now comedic heavyweights Will Ferrell and Zach Galifianakis are in the mix with the new comedy, "The Campaign," which follows a fictional congressional campaign between two knuckleheads. The movie feels like a combination of the small town vibe from this past season's story arc on NBC's "Parks and Recreation" (with Leslie Knope running for city council) and the incendiary foul language from HBO's "Veep" with Julia Louis-Dreyfus as a disgruntled vice president. Now here's Adam McKay's team in the mix giving the most outrageous and over-the-top look at politics yet -- with a hefty dose of big laughs.

The R-rated comedy is directed by Jay Roach who also helmed 2008's "Recount" and this year's "Game Change" with Julianne Moore playing Sarah Palin. With his background in political scrutiny, it's no mistake this new comedy comes out the same year of a presidential campaign. Those HBO films were more subtle and critical observations on politics, so with this Roach and his writers really get to have some fun, and things do take a turn for the ridiculous. Adam McKay is credited to the story while Chris Henchy (of the comedy video site Funny or Die) and Shawn Harwell (of HBO's "Eastbown & Down") serve as screenwriters.

McKay and Henchy previously collaborated on the buddy cop flick "The Other Guys" pairing Ferrell with Mark Wahlberg, and a lot of the same style and humor appears again with slapstick debauchery and crude improvisational riffs. With Ferrell and McKay teamed up on Funny or Die, it only made sense for them to pull Galifianakis, who has appeared on the site, to act alongside Ferrell. It's a comedic pairing so inspired you may wonder why this is the first time they've starred in a movie together, and facing off against each other no less. Galifianakis feels even more comfortable here than he does with his Wolfpack buddies of "The Hangover" movies.

He plays Marty Huggins, a hapless small town dough ball of a man who's constantly struggling to live up to the expectation of his harsh father (Brian Cox). Marty is totally weird but also well-meaning and lovable with his bubbly wife (Sarah Baker) and two kids. But when he's requested by two conniving corporate heads, the Motch brothers (Dan Aykroyd and John Lithgow), to run for congressman against the otherwise unchallenged Cam Brady (Ferrell), he's excited as a young puppy but hopelessly clueless. Enter tough guy campaign manager, Tim Wattley (Dylan McDermott), who gives Marty and his family the proper makeover to look like a legitimate political candidate -- swapping out his pugs for Labradors and mounting a bald eagle pastel painting over his fireplace.

The shenanigans that follow quickly ramp up in intensity as Brady and his campaign manager (Jason Sudekis) continuously butt heads with Marty. Galifianakis and Ferrell spar with each other in bouts of great comic timing and also give their characters realistic motives and changes of heart. Meanwhile, every satirical button gets pressed with inflammatory attack ads from each side, backstabbing, manipulation and sex scandals galore. It's all played up for comedy, but Roach and his writers are clearly tapping into something smart and knowing, too. The sly kicker in the end is that a lot of the fakery, which feels ridiculous, actually rings pretty true in American politics today. Except maybe the baby punching.

THE ARTIST Review

Writer and director Michel Havanavicius' "The Artist" was a risk, a bold one that immensely pays off. It's a tribute to black and white silent cinema while in itself being a black and white silent picture. And one starring two French actors, Jean Dujardin and Berenice Bejo, unknown to American audiences. Most of all, the movie is largely a gimmick. But you can't help but get swept up in the way both thematically and technically the movie is a rousing achievement -- its devoted love to the era and its celebration of all things cinema.

Jean Dujardin plays George Valentin, a prolific silent film actor in 1927. He has a dazzling smile with impeccable comic timing, control of his body language and dance moves perfect for silent picture performances. His time in the motion picture business is soon up, however, when the dawn of the talkie arrives. There are moments when people refer to George's refusal to talk, and it holds a double meaning in his stubbornness to let go and move forward. The times are changing and leaving him behind.

Meanwhile, a chance encounter between George and a young wannabe actress named Peppy Miller (Berenice Bejo) is pivotal. She was in the right place at the right time and gets in line for a straight shot to fame. And while it was George who got her there -- penciling in a beauty mark on her upper lip the fans adore -- and begins falling for her, they part ways. Watching the way Peppy and George's story unfolds calls back to "Singin' in the Rain" (1952) about a silent actress whose voice wasn't fit for talkies.

Dujardin and Bejo are lovely to watch. Consider the ways I described George Valentin's perfect silent movie performance -- both leads do the same for their characters. It's an astonishing modern acting feat that will provide both of them worthy nominations come Oscar time. Imagine giving a wide range of emotion without uttering a word. Certainly you have to accentuate every gesture. In part to their performances, along with Hazanavicius' smart direction, the film feels like a replica of what came out of the era. It feels genuine, something carefully preserved and drawn out of a time capsule.

Just when you think "The Artist" is about to roll you over with its unrelenting charm, it takes a step back and brings insight into what used to make the movies so appealing, and what might have been lost over the years. The director and two leads are very French yet there are two supporting actors, John Goodman and James Cromwell, who are American. And yet wordless, they have a universality about them making them seamless together. And in the same vein, it's easy to forget you're watching a black and white silent movie and can just appreciate and enjoy it for what it is: a movie. It's a universal movie that audiences might be surprised to find themselves thoroughly applauding.