Greetings, citizens! ROBOGEEK here with not one, but THREE movie reviews for your reading pleasure.

But first, please indulge me for a moment as I get something off my chest that's been pissing me off. (No, not Tuesday's 36-page Vatican Declaration - though you really don't want to get me started on that, either.)

Hey, New Line: What the HELL kind of crack are you on, running TV spots for a certain movie proclaiming "It's unanimous! Critics are calling ___ ____ one of the best films of the year!" when the ad quotes only ONE critic... and when only 41% of the 85 reviews for it on www.rottentomatoes.com are positive?

Shame on you for resorting to such a profoundly stupid, dishonest, and entirely unnecessary act of corporate irresponsibility. Not only should you know better, this ad is probably doing you more harm than good; people aren't stupid - and this ad tells them you think they are. On top of that, this spot isn't just misleading, it's outright fraud.

Pull it.

Now.

And apologize while you're at it.

It's the right thing to do. It's the smart thing to do. And you know it.

Jeez...

Anyway, back to our regularly scheduled programming, starting with a review of...

THE WAY OF THE GUN

To be perfectly honest, for the longest time I thoroughly expected not to like this movie. At all. From the title to the trailer to the TV spots to the inclusion of Ryan Phillippe and Juliette Lewis in the cast (eek), it thoroughly reeked of the sort of film I should avoid at all costs. It just looked like a lot of violent exploitation pretending to be hip and cool, appealing to the lowest common denominator - the kind of movie that'd almost make me think Joe Lieberman has a point regarding his views on Hollywood's abuse of speech.

But there were also three compelling reasons for me to see it: Christopher McQuarrie (making his directorial debut), Benicio del Toro, and Taye Diggs - a trinity of coolness.

Thankfully, after much schizophrenic deliberation, the pros outweighed the cons, and I decided to brave the film.

Damn, I'm glad I did.

If you've been at all suspicious of the laudatory reviews on this site by the likes of Harry, Tom Joad, El Cosmico, Quint, etc. for this film, let me assure you - they are not on crack (at least, not in this case).

Certainly, this film isn't for everyone. It's loud. It's violent. It's bloody. And it brought me more up close and personal with a c-section than I ever needed (or wanted) to be, thank you very much. That said, it is also inspired and inventive, clever and cool, thoroughly absorbing and wildly entertaining.

This is one badass flick.

I was a little disconcerted by the opening scene, which is supersaturated with profanity and violence, and has virtually nothing to do with the rest of the movie. But, taken in context as McQuarrie's "up yours" to the powers-that-be in Hollywood (who seem intent on only letting him do violent, profanity-ridden crime movies, the bastards), it's arguably a rather glorious act of artistic protest. Kudos.

What follows is a remarkably assured journey: a heist movie that evolves into a full-blown film noir pulp thriller, and then ultimately finds its way to an all-out spaghetti western. Fans of these genres will be thoroughly rewarded, and should be pleasantly surprised; one of the things I appreciated most about the film is how well-crafted the story is (which I won't spoil), unfolding layer by layer. The audience is doled out pieces of a puzzle one by one, as relationships of the characters and dimensions of the story are craftily revealed, offering elegant, almost classical construction to the narrative.

(Really.)

And this provides a solid foundation for the eclectic cast to turn in work that's equally entertaining and fascinating.

First of all, there's Benicio Del Toro. This man is becoming a god of coolness, and this is the first in a triumvirate of films (including the forthcoming TRAFFIC and SNATCH) that promise to make this the Year of Benicio. He is eminently watchable here, almost hypnotically engaging (as usual) - and glacially cool.

And then there's... Ryan Phillippe, playing the role that conventional wisdom would've cast Benicio in (and vice-versa). Instead, we not only get to see Mr. Reese Witherspoon act, we get to seem him be, well, GOOD. Granted, this may be a sign of the Apocalypse, but I refuse to lose any sleep over it. He gives an offbeat, funky performance in which he strangely seems to be channeling McQuarrie himself. It's a trip.

It is no secret that Juliette Lewis is an actress I have historically found annoying to the point of intolerability, often preventing me from enjoying an otherwise good movie ("Strange Days" comes to mind; to my dying day, I'll never buy Ralph Fiennes' character's obsessive attraction to her, which I think undermines the entire film). The only exception to this rule I can think of is the little seen "That Night" (which, while flawed, is worth seeing for Eliza Dushku's impressive debut performance alone). Here, Lewis is... well, she's really good. There, I said it.

As for James Caan, he spends every frame he's in reminding us just how great he is -- effortlessly. And if there's any justice, the world will soon realize that Taye Diggs is a star-caliber leading man; his performance is one of magnetic precision. Nicky Katt, with somewhat less to do, also turns in solid work as his partner.

But perhaps the giddiest thrill of the film for me was the appearance of character actor Geoffrey Lewis (who also happens to be Juliette's real-life dad). If the name doesn't register, his face will; he's instantly recognizable from almost a hundred movies (including a fistful with Clint Eastwood) and dozens of TV appearances (he gave Scully immortality in the "X-Files" episode "Tithonus"; no really, he did). Here he's in just a handful of scenes (the first and last of which are instant classics), but he couldn't be more perfect. (If it were up to me, he'd be in every movie.)

And on top of everything, the film features an absolutely fantastic score (maracas! yes!) by someone I've never heard of named Joe Kraemer, and damned yummy lensing by Dick Pope.

Again, not for everyone, but I highly recommend it as a "guy movie," especially for fans of hard-boiled crime thrillers and tough-as-nails spaghetti westerns. It whips the monkey's ass.

NURSE BETTY

I've been looking forward to seeing this film well before writers John C. Richards and James Flamberg won the Best Screenplay award at Cannes, even though I've never considered myself a fan of director Neil LaBute. (In the words of Buckaroo Banzai, "We don't have to be mean.") But any movie starring Renee Zellweger, Morgan Freeman, Chris Rock, and, okay, Greg Kinnear is automatically a must-see in my book.

Having at long last seen it, the first thing that comes to mind is Renee Zellweger's spellbinding performance, which is nothing short of revelatory. Finally she's been given the chance to spread her wings and showcase her talents, which should garner her a well-deserved Best Actress Oscar nomination (and just maybe a statuette). It should also put to rest any lingering doubts as to whether she can pull off "Bridget Jones' Diary," and should hopefully secure her stardom - which I hope she'll put to good use tackling similarly interesting vehicles (one of my favorite unproduced screenplays comes to mind - Kim Krizan's delightful "My Life As A Girl").

The second thing that comes to my mind about this film is one pivotal creative decision - constituting just a fleeting moment of screen time - which keeps me from giving it a blanket recommendation (and might very well keep it off my Top Ten List for the year). But let me back up a moment.

NURSE BETTY is a love letter to anyone who's ever had a dream. A beautifully crafted and enthrallingly clever modern fairy tale, it offers a loving portrait of dissociative identity disorder which may prove somewhat controversial - along with a not-so-subtle subtext that love is equatable to insanity. The palpable sweetness of the film's core humanity is surrounded by a darkly sardonic, sometimes fiercely sharp edge. It's a delicate balance that only slips once - but it's a doozy.

Betty, you see, is a waitress in a coffee shop and the neglected wife of a scummy used car dealer. The mediocrity of her life is transcended five times a week by her favorite soap opera, which she watches obsessively - pining not for its star (George McCord), but for the character he plays (Dr. David Ravell) - perfectly realized by Kinnear.

The universe conspires to intrude, however, and the banality of Betty's existence is thrown into metaphysical disarray by a horrifying act of violence which she witnesses. This is the catalyst for the narrative, as Betty's psyche flees in shock from the trauma into the safe harbor of her soap opera fantasy, and embarks on a cross-country journey to find her true love - a fictional character on a TV show.

And here lies my single problem with the film. While it is indeed a narrative imperative to traumatize Betty, it is entirely unwarranted to traumatize the audience. Yet we are forced to witness the same thing she is - in a shockingly visceral display of graphic violence wildly divergent from the tonal standard of the film. It is so profoundly out of bounds, I fear it will alienate a significant portion of the audience right then and there who simply won't forgive such a thing - consciously or subconsciously. In "The Way of the Gun," it could be made to fit, but in "Nurse Betty," I find it indefensible - an almost pornographic violation of the audience. It's a betrayal of cinematic trust.

It pisses me off not just because I love everything else about this movie, but because it is totally unnecessary. All we need for that moment of the film to work is to see the reaction on Betty's face, and to hear the sounds of what she's seeing. That's it. The dialogue tells the audience exactly what happens, and the scene would be more effective if we don't see it. And there is absolutely no reason to show it except to abuse and alienate the audience (and challenge the ratings board, I suppose). It serves no other constructive purpose.

To be fair, the movie isn't out yet, and I suppose there is some slim chance that the offending frames have been trimmed. I hope so, in which case the above two paragraphs plus will be blissfully moot, and this is perhaps my second favorite film of the year after "Wonder Boys" so far. But for now, this one particular shot in the film prevents me from fully embracing the whole, and recommending it to several people I'd like to (and not just my mom). And I don't think I'll be alone in this.

That said, the rest of the film is absolutely brilliant. The centerpiece, when Betty finally meets "David," serves as the dramatic fulcrum of the story; it's an astonishing scene, thanks to Zellweger's amazing performance. Yes, it's a fantastic piece of writing, but recalling the scene, I can't imagine another actress pulling it off (certainly not with as much aplomb).

This scene also shows LaBute artfully walking a fine line between the film's warm heart and cold edge. Watching it, I experienced mounting tension, fearing he'd cross the line by veering into "In The Company of Men" territory, and have his characters abuse Betty with brutal meanness. But he keeps it in check.

As does he with the other two main characters - an aging hit man and his loud-mouth apprentice (played by Morgan Freeman and Chris Rock) who are pursuing Betty. Words cannot describe how much I loved watching these two actors together. They are worth the price of admission alone. I mean, Morgan Freeman is a national treasure in and of himself, but working opposite Rock reveals facets I've never seen in him before. Both are at the top of their game here - Freeman world-weary and soulful to focused and deadly, Rock insanely hysterical to frighteningly on-edge.

And on top of everything, the film also features Allison Janney and Crispin Glover in fun supporting roles, a lovely score by Rolfe Kent, and handsome camera work by Jean-Yves Escoffier.

If you can stomach one out-of-place gruesome display of graphic violence, then you should see this movie. It's one of the most refreshing films of the year, with a great script and wonderful performances.

(I've intentionally tried to avoid spoilers in these reviews, because both of these films offer a joy of discovery as their stories unfold. They are journeys that take you to unexpected and rewarding places along the way. There are other parallels, even though they are wildly different films. If you're not averse to violence and profanity, both are worth seeing; they'd actually make for quite an interesting double-feature.)

VENUS & MARS

Finally, I wanted to take a moment to talk about a little independent film which recently came across my desk that doesn't yet have domestic distribution (the film, not my desk). What garnered my attention were two name actresses - Lynn Redgrave and Julia Sawalha - and two up-and-coming actors - Michael Weatherly (soon starring opposite Jessica Alba in James Cameron's "Dark Angel" series for Fox) and Ryan Hurst (already earning buzz for his role in "Remember the Titans"). Also ringing a bell for me was Julie Bowen (who had a recurring role in "ER" awhile back, and co-stars in NBC's new series "Ed"), though I must profess prior ignorance for co-star Fay Masterson as well as lead Daniela Lunkewitz (who, it's worth noting, also served as an executive producer), not to mention writer Ben Taylor and director Harry Mastrogeorge.

Still, I figured this was well worth a look-see.

Anyway, this is one of those movies I was in the perfect mood to see one recent lazy Sunday afternoon, curled up on the couch with lemonade and donuts. While certainly not on the level of the films I just reviewed, it still left me quite charmed, and glad I saw it. It's a somewhat quirky romantic comedy that's unashamedly a "chick flick," focusing on four childhood friends who, summoned back to their home town for a funeral, are reunited as grown women in their late twenties.

The first act is a tad slow going, as we meet the main characters and figure out their relationships to each other (and the deceased, who turns out to be their childhood soccer coach), all of which frankly left me scratching my head periodically. But no matter; once all that's out of the way, we are let into the lives of four very different women, each of whom have chosen different paths in their lives. We get to eavesdrop as they compare notes, each wrestling with the question of whether or not they made the right choices as they approach 30.

The main character, Kay (Lunkewitz), could probably benefit from being more likable - especially in the first act, when she seems rather cranky (especially in contrast to, say, Masterson's lively Celeste) - but her jaded cynicism serves a purpose in contrast to the other characters, and is somewhat understandable given her grandchild-craving mother, played by Lynn Redgrave.

Herein lies one of the many pleasant surprises in the film. Set in a picturesque German village, I was expecting Redgrave to play the role a la Hanna in "Gods and Monsters." Instead, she plays an American, long since displaced by marriage. Similarly, I was expecting Sawalha to be thoroughly British, yet here she plays a German woman. In both cases, it's a chance to see each familiar actress do something refreshingly different.

Ultimately, the film is about coming to terms with the choices you've made, while realizing it's never too late to change - and that it's worth taking stock every once in awhile to make sure you've got the right priorities in life. And that spoke to me. (As did Ryan Hurst's cabbie, who I thought was quite good opposite Masterson.)

In the interest of full disclosure, other members of the AICN crew took a look at this film and weren't as taken by it as I. But then, we aren't the target audience of the film (nor, probably, are the distributors considering it) any more than people who watch "Providence" are the target audience for "The Way of the Gun." Yet there's an audience to be found for each.

IMDB tells me that Buena Vista (!) has distribution rights for Germany (where it was produced), and I can't help but think it'd make sense for them to snag rights for the rest of Europe and the U.S. This should constitute minimal risk, as the film could carve out a niche, serving a specific market segment that is often underserved. I'd bet a limited Valentine's Day release in major markets supported by a frugal TV buy targeted on demographically-aligned shows could do the trick - especially after "Dark Angel" and "Remember the Titans" build awareness for Weatherly and Hurst, respectively, complementing the existing name recognition of Redgrave and Sawalha.

At any rate, while by no means a perfect or brilliant film, this is a sweet little movie that I think deserves a chance to find an audience, if for no other reason than the fact that nothing blows up and no one gets shot - a remarkable achievement these days.

But that's just me.

Whew, I wrote a lot! I'm going to bed.

- robogeek@robogeek.com

P.S.: By the way, can I just say how incredibly fabulous V.I.P.'s adorable Leah Lail looked on Politically Incorrect last night? I mean, DAMN! Someone put her in a real movie! (Yes, I know she's in "Little Nicky." And, no, this postscript does not constitute admission that I watch V.I.P. Perish the thought.)