THE MARINE DVD TALK REVIEW

Dismissed from his overeager military duties in Iraq, John Triton (John Cena) returns home to settle down with his wife, Kate (Kelly Carlson, "Nip/Tuck"). On their way to a romantic getaway, Kate is kidnapped by a gang of ruthless diamond thieves, lead by the vicious Rome (Robert Patrick). Trying to figure out a way to fence the loot while struggling to keep two steps ahead of John and his path of vengeance, Rome and the gang find out soon enough that the only thing worse than robbing a South Carolina jewelry store is having a former marine chasing after you.

The last film to debut a professional wrestling actor was last May's Kane stinker "See No Evil." At the time, I was pretty sure it was the dumbest movie I'd see all year. After watching John Cena's big screen gumball, "The Marine," I stand corrected.

In interviews, Cena has compared the thrills of "Marine" to Arnold Schwarzenegger's 1985 guilty pleasure, "Commando." In some respects, I can understand the comparison. Both pictures are high octane stunt spectacles, comfy in the notion that all the production has to do is blow up everything in sight, get the star to manhandle the bad guys, and the film will find its audience. However, as goofy as "Commando" was (and boy, was it ever), it was relatively calm next to the hyperactive "Marine," and certainly featured more respectable direction and a script that didn't dive off the deep end. "Marine" is dollar-store DVD lunacy, and not in a good way.

WWE director John Bonito goes bonkers trying to drum up excitement with this film. Basically, "Marine" is 90 minutes of fireballs, unspeakable one-liners, and poorly choreographed fight sequences. At least I thought they were fight sequences. Bonito edits the film so frantically, it could be just Cena standing still for all I could see. Everything in "Marine" is pumped up to deafening proportions, from Cena's Herculean physique to, get this, sports cars for the South Carolina state troopers.

The problem with Cena goes beyond his easily spotted first film jitters. He's a mountainous man, yet cursed with the vocal authority of pubescent 16 year-old held at the mercy of a film that won't let us see what makes him so popular on the wrestling circuit. At least Schwarzenegger was a hard-ass of the highest order. Hindered by a PG-13 rating that dampens the mood by placing all the violent money shots off camera, Cena comes off as a bland action figure, ready to be posed in any film WWE sends down the pipe for him, but lacking a zesty charisma that could turn him into a genre icon.

At least the production had the sense to cast Kelly Carlson as John's kidnapped wife. With Carlson as the damsel in distress, I can see why Triton battles so hard to get her back. I doubt someone like Selma Blair in the role would have lent the film its one crumble of reality.

Call it "Snakes on a Plane" syndrome, but "Marine" tires quickly trying to posture itself as a bad B-movie. Again, you really can't proclaim yourself sinful cinematic garbage; you have to earn it. "Marine" is full of winks, tossed in a smorgasbord of a screenplay that gives Rome's henchman a fear of rock candy and a moment where, in mid-threat, Rome takes a phone call to discuss his cable TV options. Couple that malarkey with the fact that Triton leaps out of the way of not one, not two, but three building explosions during the course of the picture (of course, not a scratch on him), and "The Marine" proudly admits that it's junk. Who am I to disagree?

SPIDERMAN DVD TALK REVIEW

The Movie:

It's interesting to see the resurgence in comic book movies, after many thought that director Joel Schumacher single-handedly ruined the "Batman" franchise with the one-two punch of "Batman Forever" and "Batman and Robin". "X-Men" was enough of a hit to renew interest in the genre, which was followed by development of such characters as "Daredevil" (who will be played by Ben Affleck) and "Spider Man", which finally emerged out of development hell after a lengthy battle over rights and several screenplay treatments, including some work by James Cameron.

After a lengthy discussion over stars (Heath Ledger and, shockingly, Freddie Prinze, Jr. were in the running) and directors (Sam Raimi was a terrific eventual choice), the film was set. Expertly marketed to not really overhype it all, the final film is certainly a good one, in my opinion. There's just a few things about it that keep it from swinging over from very good to excellent.

I'd most certainly call the opening half the better of the two. We're introduced to Peter Parker (Tobey Maguire), an intelligent, aspiring photographer who also happens to be on the low end of the status ladder of high school. He's fallen for the girl-next-door Mary Jane ("M.J.") Watson (Kirsten Dunst), but doesn't know how to express his feelings; he also happens to get beaten-up by the local bullies.

On a field trip to a science experiment at a local university, Peter gets a pretty nasty bite from a genetically modified spider, causing him to fall ill and pass out once he gets home. When he wakes up, things have changed drastically; he can climb walls, has incredible reflexes, can sense danger and can shoot webs. There are a few scenes early on where Maguire hits perfect, goofy notes trying to figure out how these new powers work.

After a tragic event, Peter decides to use his powers to fight crime, riding the streets of criminals large and small by swooping in on them unexpectedly. Elsewhere, industrialist Norman Osborne (Willem Dafoe), the father of Peter's friend Harry (James Franco) takes an overdose of an experiment he was working on, giving him super strength and a second, far darker personality, eventually becoming the Green Goblin, Spider Man's villian in this particular picture (who knows which of many bad guys in the series will be chosen for the sequel).

There's a lot to like about this picture, which entertains and adds a little more character depth than viewers usually find in a Summer movie. Director Raimi, who has been consistently moving up and showing great talent with smaller character-driven dramas like "Simple Plan" and "The Gift", alternates between exhilarating action sequences and character moments. Maguire and Dunst take several sequences that are mainly dialogue-driven and through expressions and other subtle touches, make their unspoken romance believable and their characters sympathetic. Maguire was a perfect choice, easily moving from awkward to serious to subdued.

The one character element that didn't work for me was Dafoe's Green Goblin. While the actor certainly gives it an over-the-top try, the character as written here doesn't make for a particularly interesting villian. The Goblin's mask, which looks like it could have been picked up at a Halloween store, doesn't really help matters, either.

The film's special effects are quite good, as one would probably expect from a picture with a reported 120 million dollar budget. While a few scenes here and there don't look seamless, there are several remarkable shots of Spider Man flying through the streets of Manhattan that are dazzling. Speaking of visuals, it's interesting to see how Raimi's visual style has changed over the years, from the highly inventive camera work of Bill Pope in "Army of Darkness" (Raimi's "Darkness"/"Evil Dead") star Bruce Campbell has a cameo) to Dante Spinotti's stylish and fast-paced work for "Quick and the Dead" to the picture-perfect baseball scenes by John Bailey in "For Love Of the Game". For "Spider Man", Raimi has borrowed director Robert Zemeckis's usual cinematographer, Don Burgess ("Cast Away") and the result is a film with slick, attractive visuals that either remain subdued for quiet moments or follow the rapid action clearly.

Certainly, this is a very good film and one of the stronger "Summer" movies that I've seen in a couple of years. There are some concerns I had; the first half feels more fresh and energetic to the somewhat familiar and louder second half and the villian could have been stronger, but other than that, I was certainly entertained.

TURISTAS DVD TALK REVIEW

Regardless of your expectations of it, I don't see how "Turistas" can fail to disappoint you. You're in the mood for some torture porn, a la "Saw" or "Hostel"? Surprise! There isn't any! You get one scene -- ONE SCENE! -- of someone being hacked up, and even then, the victim is under anesthesia and the hacking is done antiseptically, even medically.

So maybe instead you're hoping for a taut psychological thriller, comparable to "Deliverance," where the actual violence is minimal but the tension is high? Surprise! It fails there, too. The characters are (as they almost always are in these films) one-dimensional stereotypes whose only motivations are to have sex and to avoid being killed. And wouldn't you know it, most of them fail at that, too.

The film is set in Brazil and was shot on location by director John Stockwell, whose "Blue Crush" and "Into the Blue" also made use of beautiful locations and actors who refuse to wear anything but bathing suits. "Turistas" is infused with Brazilian sights and sounds -- the beaches, the music, the friendly people -- and actually made me want to go there. Apart from all the killing and the general message of "Never trust a foreigner," it would make a good travel brochure.

Our heroes are six young people -- three Americans, two Brits and an Australian -- who have come to Brazil in search of drinking, recreation, and indiscriminate sexual encounters. An American girl (Olivia Wilde) is chaperoned by her worry-wart brother (Josh Duhamel) and accompanied by her trashy best friend (Beau Garrett); the Australian (Melissa George) is a world traveler who speaks fluent Portuguese; the Brits (Max Brown and Desmond Askew) are randy fellows who just want to meet girls.

A bus accident leaves the six stranded, but they join forces and wander onto a hidden beach that evidently isn't all that hidden after all, since it has a fully stocked bar and raging nightly parties. Then somehow they eventually wind up in a crazy house where crazy people want to do crazy things to them.

I'm skipping a lot, but believe me, you'll wish the movie had skipped a lot, too. The film's very first images are a flash-forward to much later, when a female victim is strapped down and apparently about to be eviscerated. It is 60 minutes before the movie actually arrives at that point in the narrative, giving us a full hour to endure the tourists partying, talking, flirting with each other, passing out, arguing, walking, being lost, and taking their shirts off. It's a 95-minute movie in which 50 minutes are padding.

The screenplay (by previously uncredited writer Michael Ross) further errs by including scenes with the villains as they plot to abduct the tourists. By giving the audience information that the main characters aren't privy to, much of the mystery and suspense is lost. It would be better if we had no idea what was in store, rather than being teased with it. This is especially true since what we're teased with -- rampant bloody mayhem and terror -- never actually materializes.

The movie is what it is. The question is, is it good at being what it is? And the answer is no. I never thought I'd complain that a movie wasn't violent and awful enough, but when a film sets out to be violent and awful, it really ought to follow through..

VAN WILDER 2 DVD TALK REVIEW

Sometimes you really can judge a book by its cover. "National Lampoon's Van Wilder 2: The Rise of Taj" is a movie we can pretty much review based on its title alone. The "National Lampoon" part means it will be awful, as everything released under that label since "Christmas Vacation" (in 1989!) has totally blown. The fact that it's a sequel to 2002's "Van Wilder" is another gloomy sign, since sequels to bad movies are usually just as bad, if not worse. And "The Rise of Taj" hints that this sequel is focusing on a minor character from the first movie -- another harbinger of doom. (Imagine "Superman II: The Adventures of Jimmy Olsen" or "Toy Story II: The Wrath of Little Bo Peep.")

Sure enough, "The Rise of Taj" is worthless, a completely desperate and mindless exercise in juvenility. I was a little surprised, though, at how lackadaisical it is. It's listless and lethargic. You can usually count on these things to at least be lively and madcap, if not actually entertaining. But this one goes for long stretches without even TRYING to be funny, apparently content to let its half-baked characters wander around unsupervised while the audience waits impatiently for the next sperm joke.

Taj (Kal Penn), an Indian-American student, was a protege of supreme slacker Van Wilder back at Coolidge College in the first "Van Wilder" film. Van (played by Ryan Reynolds in the original) does not appear in the sequel, but his wisdom is often referred to. Taj is now a grad student at England's Camford University, where he's been made R.A. at a ramshackle residence hall known as the Barn. There are just four students under his tutelage: Seamus (Glen Barry) the angry Irish kid, Gethin (Anthony Cozens) the nerd, Simon (Steven Rathman) the silent video-gamer, and Sadie (Holly Davidson) the cockney tramp. They are all desperately in need of help in becoming cool and confident, so it's Van Wilder to the rescue! Er, Van Wilder, as learned and now repeated by Taj!

There's a snooty fraternity called the Fox & Hounds, led by smarmy jerk Pipp Everett (Daniel Percival), and they intend to humiliate Taj's house in the school-wide Hastings Cup competition. Wouldn't you know it, Pipp's girlfriend, Charlotte (Lauren Cohan), starts to fall for Taj, which makes the rivalry even more fierce. And wouldn't you know it, Taj has a few tricks up his sleeve to cut those pompous Fox & Hound twits down to size!! Ha-ha!

The film was directed by Mort Nathan, a hack writer whose only prior directing credit was -- shudder -- "Boat Trip." Surely no person who endured that disaster can enter "The Rise of Taj" without trepidation. He did not write "The Rise of Taj," however; those honors went to one Drew David Gallagher, a sometime-actor with no previous writing experience who evidently penned this screenplay as part of a contest to see how many euphemisms he could think of for female genitalia. (Answer: more than a dozen, but I lost count.)

I laughed not once during the film. I may have winced audibly once or twice, though, particularly during the scene (ripped off from the first "Van Wilder") in which a dog's sexual behavior is graphically depicted. That's the one moment that actually pushes the envelope. The rest of the movie just draws pictures of boobies on the envelope and tries to pass it off as comedy.