“Saturday Night Live” has been harshly criticized over the years for failing to deliver quality episodes each and every week, but have you ever stopped to think just how difficult that really is? In James Franco’s all-access documentary, “SATURDAY NIGHT,” audiences finally get a behind-the-scenes look at the arduous task of putting together a 90-minute live show. Capturing every step of the creative process – from the actors and writers pitching their ideas to the week’s host (in this case, John Malkovich) to putting on the final show – the film delivers an honest look at the high-stress, dog-eat-dog world of sketch comedy. With only 24 hours to conceive and write their sketches (and guys like Will Forte seemingly sleepwalking through most of it), it’s amazing that any of them can be funny at all. Perhaps more shocking, however, is that only nine of the 50 proposed ideas actually make it into the final show.

“SATURDAY NIGHT” focuses on just a handful of them, and it’s here that we see the evolution that each one goes through along the way, including rewrites and last-minute edits that come out of rehearsals. We also learn that while some sketches (like one lampooning the Empire Carpet commercials) bring down the house during the initial round of table reads, by the time it comes to performing it at dress rehearsal only hours before the live show, it falls flat with the audience, forcing the producers to pull it from the line-up. Franco gets some good interviews with the cast and crew, even putting himself on camera to discuss his own hosting experience, but he doesn’t really document anything that someone with the exact same access couldn’t do. “SATURDAY NIGHT” is still a fascinating study of a particular facet of the entertainment industry, and if there’s anything to take away from the documentary, it’s that these guys are only human. As one producer aptly declares when discussing future cast members: “If you’re a perfectionist, don’t come here, because nothing is ever perfect.”

Interested in testing the limits of the moviegoing public? Make a comedy about terrorism. At least, that’s what Christopher Morris has done with his feature film debut, “Four Lions,” a movie that will no doubt stir up controversy if it ever finds a distributor brave enough to release it in theaters. A pitch-black satire in the same vein as “Dr. Strangelove,” Morris has created a film so relevant to our current political climate that many will feel guilty just for watching it, let alone laughing at all the gut-wrenching humor along the way. For as risqué as the material may be, however, it’s impossible to deny that “Four Lions” is one of the funniest, most provocative comedies of the last decade – and one that has more to say than any of the numerous self-important war movies that Hollywood has been cranking out for years.

The film follows a group of wannabe suicide bombers from Britain who are so inept at being terrorists that they’re more dangerous to themselves than any potential target. Omar (Riz Ahmed) is the most level-headed of the bunch, but when he’s kicked out of an Al-Qaeda training camp in Pakistan because of his dim-witted friend, Waj (Kayvan Novak), they return home to find that their partners in crime, Fessal (Adeel Akhtar) and white Islamic convert Barry (Nigel Lindsay), have recruited a fifth member (Arsher Ali) to the cause. Desperate to save face, Omar informs the others that they've been ordered to blow themselves up at the London marathon.

But for this team of bumbling idiots, that’s a lot harder than it sounds. When they’re not busy attaching bombs to crows, embarrassing themselves in jihad videos, or coming up with new methods of anti-surveillance, they’re bickering among themselves like old ladies. The power struggle between Omar and Barry provides the catalyst for most of these arguments, because while Barry might seem like the ideal person to be in charge, he has such radical ideas (like blowing up a mosque so that the peaceful Muslims rise up and join their fight) that it’s easy to see why he would fail as a leader.

The intensity of a character like Barry, however, is what ultimately makes “Four Lions” so successful, because Morris treats the material with such veracity that the jokes hit harder as a result. These guys might be complete imbeciles, but that doesn’t change the fact that they’ve managed to stockpile a dangerous amount of explosives capable of doing some serious damage. In fact, for all the comedy bred out of the film’s set-up, there are still quite a few unsettling moments scattered throughout, including a thrilling finale in the streets of London. Even more disturbing is the relationship between Omar and his family. His wife doesn’t only support what he’s doing, but seems to encourage it, while his son has become so familiar with the idea of jihad that his bedtime stories feature Simba and his fellow animal friends from "The Lion King" as suicide bombers.

It’s this kind of dark humor that makes “Four Lions” more of a tragicomedy than a satire, because even though the would-be terrorists can hardly be considered the heroes of the story, Morris makes them so likeable that you don’t want anything bad to happen to them. We know their intentions aren’t good, but because we’ve become so used to laughing at their blunders throughout the course of the film, we never really identify them as much of a threat. That’s mostly thanks to a brilliant script (co-written by Morris and two of the writers responsible for last year’s scathing political satire, “In the Loop”), which takes the buddy comedy formula and applies it to a hot-button topic with great aplomb. “Four Lions” may not be the first of its kind – Paul Weitz’s “American Dreamz” also flirted with the concept of mixing terrorism and comedy – but where that movie proved that no subject was taboo, Christopher Morris’ film demonstrates that sometimes it's easier to get people to pay attention when you're making them laugh.

Most people will take one look at the premise of Daniel Barber’s “Harry Brown” and immediately liken it to a British version of “Gran Torino.” The two films certainly share a lot of similarities – both are about older men battling a gang of young punks, and both star one of the greatest actors of their generation – but where “Harry Brown” differs is in the violent behavior of its title character and his victims. The end result is a little more like “Death Wish,” and although it may be difficult to imagine someone as mild-mannered as Michael Caine in a vigilante role, it’s exactly what makes “Harry Brown” so damn entertaining.

You wouldn’t think he was even capable of such violence when you first meet Harry Brown (Caine), an army veteran whose days consist of meticulous visits his sick wife in the hospital and playing chess with his only friend, Leonard (David Bradley), at their favorite pub. But when his wife passes away and Leonard is killed by some local street thugs who had been harassing him for months, Harry finds himself all alone in a town dominated by crime. After the police detectives (Emily Mortimer and Charlie Creed-Miles) assigned to Leonard’s murder case fail to catch the kids involved, Harry takes it upon himself to track down those responsible and teach them a lesson in how to treat your elders.

It’s been a while since Michael Caine played the part of the action star, and while he’s not doing anything too physically demanding as Harry Brown, it’s a nice throwback to his earlier films. He’s like Jack Carter with an AARP card, and though he may seem harmless at first, once Brown picks up a gun, he immediately becomes the most dangerous man on the block. Only an actor like Caine could provide the gravitas needed to sell such a potentially outlandish role, but once you accept him as someone capable of committing such acts of violence, it allows for some of the more darkly comical moments to exist without coming off as parody. Unfortunately, Caine is the only bright spot in the cast. Emily Mortimer doesn’t have very much to do as the detective suspicious of Brown, while Liam Cunningham is underused as the owner of the pub.

That’s hardly the fault of the actors, however, as the film is primarily designed as a vehicle for its lead star. Some might even consider first-time director David Barber lucky for landing such a great actor to play the title role, but Barber brings his own strengths to the project as well. The decision to open the film with gritty handheld footage of an innocent woman being gunned down in the park is both unsettling and necessary to setting the stage for the story that follows, while Brown’s back-alley meeting with a couple of drug-addicted gun dealers makes for one of the most suspenseful cinematic moments in recent memory. This is the kind of movie that not only gets your heart beating, but spurs applause from the audience with each vengeful kill. It’s definitely not one of Caine’s better films, but "Harry Brown" is a real crowd-pleaser nonetheless.

Set in the picturesque East Midlands, Nick Whitfield’s “Skeletons” stars Ed Gaughan and Andrew Buckley as Davis and Bennett, a pair of traveling salesmen who literally clean skeletons out of closets. The Procedure, as it’s known, magically transports them into their clients’ deepest, darkest secrets, where they can then assume control of the people within the memory and free them of their guilty conscience. When their boss, The Colonel (Jason Isaacs), assigns them to an especially tricky case with the promise of a promotion to higher-profile clients like politicians, Davis and Bennett jump at the chance. But after a rare mistake leaves Davis in an indefinite trance, The Colonel arrives in town to clean up the mess.

Based on Whitfield’s 2006 short film of the same name, “Skeletons” is very much a tale of two movies. While the first half is a decidedly more comedic take on the skeleton cleaning business – with several laughs coming from Davis and Bennett’s humorous relationship – the second half gets a whole lot darker. The stakes are raised and the mysticism behind The Procedure plays a bigger role in the story. Whitfield never quite explains how everything works, but he shows the audience enough that you sort of just take his word for it. It’s a one-of-a-kind idea that’s ultimately undone by a confusing final act, and although it probably worked better in its shorter format, “Skeletons” is still something you have to see at least once. And even then, regardless of whether you liked it or not, you might want to watch it again just in case you missed something the first time around.

It’s a feeling that nearly every “Star Wars” fan has had at least once in their life: betrayal. But how far does that betrayal go, and is it even fair to call it that? Those are the main questions surrounding Alexandre O. Philippe’s documentary, “The People vs. George Lucas,” and they’re ones that aren’t necessarily answered by the time it’s over. That’s not to say that the fan doc doesn’t accomplish anything, but rather that, despite being fairly biased in its criticisms of Lucas, it isn't nearly convincing enough to change your feelings on the subject.

Compiling interviews from fans, writers, filmmakers and just about anyone willing to speak their mind, “The People vs. George Lucas” investigates the infamous love-hate relationship between the “Star Wars” creator and his massive fanbase. Glossing over his early years as a filmmaker and his time making the original “Star Wars” trilogy, Philippe jumps right into the fan controversy at the heart of the film, tracking all the way back to 1997 when the movies were re-released in theaters. Though many thought the decision to upgrade the trilogy was a great idea at the time (including those who actually worked on it), the reissues have since been a major sticking point in the argument against Lucas – and not just because of the changes made. Granted, the whole Han Shot First debacle is pretty maddening stuff, but there are far more intellectual discussions as well, ranging from the validity of an Oscar for Best Visual Effects after the crew’s miniature work was replaced with CG, to the ridiculous claim that the original negative was destroyed after the reissues were completed.

For as angry as the 1997 editions made fans, however, nothing comes even remotely as close to the outrage following the release of the new trilogy. Though “The Phantom Menace,” in particular, isn’t quite as bad as some made it out to be, expectations were set so high that it’s understandable why a lot of fans took it personally. The pro-Lucas side argues that the films were made for children (just like the first movies were), and though that sounds like a pretty bad excuse for a character as heinous as Jar Jar Binks, it actually has some value to it. After all, if the “Star Wars” movies weren’t made for kids, then why invest so much of the marketing into cartoons and toys? That doesn't really explain why he would tamper with the mythology of the series (i.e. midi-chlorians), and while some have been able to look past those minor annoyances, others have made it their mission to complain about everything Lucas has done to ruin their childhood.

Philippe’s documentary also includes brief segments about the “Star Wars Christmas Special,” the endurance of the "Star Wars" brand, as well as the negative response to “Indiana Jones & the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull.” One interviewee even makes a curious observation regarding the attack on the film, noting that fans lashed out mostly at Lucas, despite Steven Spielberg’s heavy involvement in the project. So is Lucas just the guy we love to hate, or is there something more to it? Philippe doesn’t seem to know the answer, but that’s mostly because there isn’t one. While the argument over whether or not George Lucas owns the creative right to alter his movies (or if he surrenders that right the minute it’s released to the masses) will probably go on long after he’s dead, it’s silly to think that he’s somehow ruined our childhoods. After all, none of us would even have those memories if it weren’t for Lucas, and though he can be a real son of a bitch at times, it’s probably just easier to let him have his way.

It’s only been a year since the premiere of the micro-budget comedy, “Women in Trouble,” but that hasn’t stopped director Sebastian Gutierrez from rushing out the second installment in his proposed trilogy just in time for its anniversary. There wasn’t a whole lot of outcry for a sequel, but considering just how fast and cheap these movies are to make, there probably wasn’t any time to wait around to find out. Unfortunately, while “Women in Trouble” featured a series of fun interconnected stories anchored by a clever script and strong performances from its mostly female cast, “Elektra Luxx” only offers a sliver of what made the first movie one of 2009’s underrated gems.

Picking up weeks after the events of “Women in Trouble,” the film opens with adult film star Elektra Luxx (Carla Gugino) still coping with the news that she’s pregnant. Now teaching a class on on making love like a porn star at the local community center, Elektra’s life is complicated once again when Cora (Marley Shelton) arrives in town with a proposition: help ease her guilty conscience by sleeping with her fiancé (Justin Kirk), and in return, she’ll give Elektra the lost lyrics of her late boyfriend, Nick Chapel (Josh Brolin). On the other side of town, porn blogger Bert Rodriguez (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) mourns Elektra’s exit from the adult film industry, only to be horrified to discover his sister (Amy Rossof) is interested in breaking in to the business, while Bambi Emmanuelle Chriqui) and Holly (Adrianne Palicki) head to Mexico for vacation.

To say that either plotline is integral to Elektra’s story would be pushing it, however, because while they do eventually come together in the end, “Elektra Luxx” isn’t as much of an ensemble effort as the first film. You needn’t look any further than the title of the movie to know that it’s predominantly about Elektra, and although Carla Gugino is great as the blonde bombshell (even getting a chance to show off her diversity playing Elektra’s lispy twin sister in a flashback sequence), it just doesn’t have the same charm as “Women in Trouble.” Only a handful of actors return for the second go-around (including Joseph Gordon-Levitt, whose role has been expanded beyond a short cameo), while many of the new characters, like Timothy Olyphant’s private investigator and Emma Bell’s cheating wife, aren’t on screen long enough to make an impression.

Thankfully, Emmanuelle Chriqui and Adrianne Palicki are also back for more, because they’re easily my favorite characters of the series. Palicki, in particular, steals the show as the lovesick amateur porn star, earning big laughs just about every time she opens her mouth. It’s at times like these where Gutierrez’s script shines, and although there aren’t as many here as in the previous movie, the writing remains his biggest strength. As a director, it’s a completely different story. Though Gutierrez definitely deserves points for experimenting with everything from black-and-white flashbacks to fantasy sequences and musical numbers, none of them are necessary and only take you out of the moment. Granted, “Elektra Luxx” isn’t a bad movie, but it’s still a disappointment after seeing how much could be accomplished with so little in “Women in Trouble.”

You’d think that a story about one of the most infamous drug smugglers of the 1970s would make for a pretty good film. After all, this is a movie that opens with the lead character comically declaring, “My success went right to my head, and I’ve been living off it ever since.” But Bernard Rose’s “Mr. Nice” is so painfully tedious in the presentation of its subject matter that you eventually lose interest. Based on the life and times of Howard Marks (Rhys Ifans), a promising Oxford scholar who gave up a future in academics to pursue a career dealing drugs, the movie follows his rise to infamy as one of the world’s foremost hashish distributors.

Unfortunately, none of it is particularly engaging, as Rose races through each major event like it’s a bullet point on a crib sheet. Ifans may have campaigned hard for the role (he's good friends with the real-life Marks), but he’s delivered much better work in smaller roles, while Chloë Sevigny (as his wife, Judy) is essentially a glorified extra. Only David Thewlis escapes unscathed as an IRA soldier who joins Marks’ risky business venture, but even his performance doesn’t always click. The bulk of the blame, however, belongs to Rose, as he just doesn’t know how to make the story interesting. He definitely has some great ideas (the decision to hold back any color until Marks smokes his first joint works well in depicting the importance of drugs in his life), but more often than not, he only makes the movie worse. “Mr. Nice” certainly has its moments, but you’d be better off just catching Ted Demme’s “Blow” on cable instead.

Last year, critics went crazy for “Anvil! The Story of Anvil,” a documentary about a duo of failed musicians from Canada so obsessed with success that their friendship eventually suffered because of it. So basically, it was a movie about a couple of self-entitled losers who weren’t really that talented to begin with. It was an interesting study of a man so desperate to become famous that he would do just about anything to get it, but if you’re looking for a music doc about a real rock and roll legend who couldn’t care less about fame, then “Lemmy” is probably a little more up your alley.

That’s not to say that Lemmy Kilmister, the magnetic frontman of heavy metal band Motörhead, is a saint. In fact, he’s far from it. Not only does he chain smoke and drink like a fish, but he’s also pretty open about his recreational use of amphetamines. And at the ripe age of 64, he doesn’t show any signs of slowing down. What’s most interesting about Lemmy, though, isn’t that he’s still alive and kicking, but rather that despite his heavy drinking and drug use, none of his colleagues can remember a single time it’s caused him to act unprofessionally. The idea of a rock god who’s also a responsible businessman may sound a bit oxymoronic, but that’s exactly what’s at the heart of Greg Olliver and Wes Orshoski’s crowd-pleasing rockumentary.

Through interviews with close friends and fellow musicians, “Lemmy” tracks the career of the godfather of heavy metal, from his time with the space rock band Hawkwind to a special guest appearance at a recent Metallica concert. Along the way, Olliver and Orshoski take a closer look at the man behind the legend, including segments about his unique fashion sense, his love of WWII memorabilia, and his musical influences. Believe it or not, Lemmy lists The Beatles, Elvis Presley and Little Richard among his personal favorites, and even considers the latter to be the true originator of rock and roll.

Just as Lemmy has an incredible respect for the musicians that preceded him, so do those that follow in his footsteps. There’s not a negative thing to be said about the guy (except, perhaps, from his former Hawkwind bandmates), and it shows not only in the anecdotes that each one tells (Dave Grohl and Scott Ian have some of the funniest), but in the numerous compliments about him, both as a man and a musician. The film’s best moments, however, are also some of the most intimate – a behind-the-scenes look at a man who leads a fairly quiet life when he’s not up on stage, whether its sitting at the Rainbow Room playing a bar-top trivia game or perusing Amoeba Records for a copy of the new Beatles box set in mono. (He doesn't find one on the shelves, but the store's owner gladly gives up her personal copy because, well, it's Lemmy.)

Though it’s necessary to show all these different versions of Lemmy to best explain his legend, the film does begin to run a little long towards the end, as if Olliver and Orshoski had so much great footage that they couldn’t decide on a natural ending. The film has also been thrown together in a very strange fashion, with absolutely no rhyme or reason as to why certain segments appear before others, particularly in regards to some of the more biographical material. Even with its flaws, however, “Lemmy” is pure entertainment. Most rock stars probably wouldn't appreciate a documentary that exploits their personality for laughs, but the great thing about Lemmy is that he’s in on the joke.

It’s been a long time since a “Saturday Night Live” skit was turned into a full-length feature, and for good reason. With the exception of a rare few (most notably the first “Wayne’s World” and “Night at the Roxbury”), they’ve all been pretty terrible. Director Jorma Taccone hopes to buck that trend with “,” the big screen adaptation of Will Forte’s MacGyver-like soldier of fortune. Though it might seem like the kind of one-joke concept that couldn’t possibly be funny for 84 minutes, “MacGruber” is so unrelenting in its attempt to win over the audience with childish humor that you can't help but laugh along.

MacGruber (Forte) was once regarded as the country’s greatest hero, but in the ten years since the murder of his fiancée, he’s given up his gadget-making days and retreated to South America to live in a monastery. But when his old nemesis, Dietrich Von Cunth (Val Kilmer), steals a nuclear warhead with the intention to blow up the White House, MacGruber is recruited by Col. James Faith (Powers Boothe) to come out of retirement and save the world once again. After he blows up his team of former military buddies, MacGruber enlists the help of longtime friend Vicki St. Elmo (Kristen Wiig) and by-the-books soldier Lt. Dixon Piper (Ryan Phillippe) to track down the warhead and pound some Cunth.

If you laughed at that last bit, then there’s a good chance you’ll enjoy “MacGruber,” because the script is positively overflowing with that kind of juvenile wordplay. Co-written by Forte, Taccone, and fellow “SNL” scribe John Solomon, the trio does a surprisingly good job of taking a series of minute-long skits that all invariably end up with MacGruber blowing up and expanding it into a real story. It’s not a particularly great story, mind you, but it gets the job done for a film more concerned with setting up the next big joke. There are a lot of jokes that don’t really warrant more than a snicker, but some of the film’s running gags – including one involving MacGruber’s Blaupunkt car stereo and another where he obsesses over a rude motorist – will leave you in stitches.

Even the jokes that aren’t necessarily funny still work to some degree thanks to the film’s cast. Forte is excellent as the title character (just wait until you get a load of MacGruber’s trademark combat move), perfectly towing the line between naivety and just plain stupidity, while Kristen Wiig makes the most of her limited screen time. Ryan Phillippe also helps to ground the film as the straight man of the group, and Van Kilmer, although he doesn’t really capitalize on the sheer absurdity of his character, is clearly having a blast playing the villain. Though it gets off to a bit of a rough start comically, “MacGruber” eventually draws you in with its brand of sophomoric humor, pulling out all the stops in the name of comedy (and the ratings board). It’s certainly not the funniest film of the year, but there are enough laughs scattered throughout to suggest that not every film based on an “SNL” skit is complete shit.

As perhaps the most recognizable names behind the mumblecore movement, directors Mark and Jay Duplass have earned a small following over the years with festival favorites like “The Puffy Chair” and “Baghead.” Their newest film is a minor departure from the genre that put them on the map, but even though it has the backing of a major studio and features an A-list cast, “Cyrus retains the low-budget, independent spirit of their other movies. Mostly unscripted but not quite mumblecore, “Cyrus” may drive some longtime fans away, but this darkly comical look at the human condition is guaranteed to earn the Duplass brothers an entirely new audience.

John C. Reilly stars as John, a freelance editor who’s still getting over the divorce from his first wife, Jamie (Catherine Keener), even though it’s been seven years since they separated. Jamie is now engaged to her new boyfriend (Matt Walsh), but she’s remained friends with John over the years and invites him to a party one night in order to meet someone new. John begrudgingly agrees, and though the night doesn’t get off to a great start, he’s eventually approached by Molly (Marisa Tomei), a beautiful single who’s totally out of his league. Nevertheless, the two hit it off immediately and start a romance, but when John worries that Molly is hiding something from him, he follows her back home to find that there’s another man in her life – her 21-year-old son, Cyrus (Jonah Hill). Though Cyrus appears friendly enough at first, John soon realizes that the overly-attached mama’s body will do whatever it takes to break them up and keep Molly all to himself.

It’s a relationship that could have easily come across as creepy if the material didn't have such a genuine quality to it. Granted, that doesn’t change the fact that it’s still hard to swallow at times, but the cast does a pretty good job of not focusing too much on the somewhat taboo nature of their bond by keeping the story flowing – particularly since all the dialogue is improvised. Marisa Tomei is easily the best actor of the bunch, but she’s a little out of her element here, relying mostly on her co-stars to guide her through each scene. John C. Reilly and Jonah Hill, on the other hand, have a real knack for comic improvisation, and it shows in their ability to constantly up the ante. Reilly is solid in his best role in years, delivering a performance that’s both funny and sweet, but it’s Hill’s semi-serious turn as the title character that will likely steal most of the limelight. It's hardly worth all the fuss (he's good, but not that good), but it's still an interesting career move for an actor best known for comedies like “Superbad" and "Knocked Up."

Even with its marquee talent, “Cyrus” is still very much a Duplass brothers film. Though it’s difficult to gauge how much they actually contributed to the story apart from writing the outline, their fingerprints are all over the final product – particularly the way in which it was shot, as if some of the more intimate moments are being recorded by a third party for some kind of bizarre documentary on Oedipus complex. These dramatic scenes are handled nicely by all involved, but without its dark, comedic undercurrent, “Cyrus” wouldn’t be nearly as enjoyable. And if the Duplass brothers can figure out a way to strike this perfect balance between drama and comedy (and to a lesser note, indie and mainstream) in every one of their films, their futures are going to be bright.

Directors can be a pretty serious bunch, so it’s refreshing to see guys like Jean-Pierre Jeunet having so much fun making their movies that it’s evident just from watching it. The French filmmaker has been surprisingly absent from the world cinema scene since 2004’s “A Very Long Engagement,” but his return was definitely worth the wait. Jeunet’s latest film, “,” may just be his best yet – a whimsical crime caper that boasts his trademark visual style, a classic Max Steiner score, and an ensemble cast filled with familiar faces. Though it likely won’t have the crossover appeal of “Amelie,” “Micmacs” is one of the most enjoyable moviegoing experiences of the year.

Dany Boon stars as Bazil, a Parisian video store employee whose father was killed in a landmine accident when he was kid. After he’s shot in the head during a freak accident of his own, Bazil awakens to learn that he’s not only been replaced at work and had his apartment given away, but that the bullet which nearly killed him is still dangerously lodged in his head. With nowhere to go, Bazil is adopted by a group of eccentric, trash-salvaging inventors who live under the local junkyard. When he realizes that the military contractors who manufactured the bullet and landmine are located within the city, however, Bazil teams up with his new friends to exact revenge on the men responsible for ruining his life.

Though a lot of Juenet’s films have a fairy tale-like quality to them, “Micmacs” takes it one step further by surrounding its main protagonist with quirky companions not unlike the Seven Dwarfs. But instead of Dopey, Grumpy and Sleepy, there’s a contortionist (Julie Ferrier), a human cannonball (Dominique Pinon), a girl who can calculate anything in her head (Marie-Julie Baup), and a guy who only speaks in idioms (Omar Sy). Each character has their moment to shine, but Pinon is the clear standout in a role that falls somewhere between his circus performer from “Delicatessen” and his ill-tempered lover from “Amelie.” Dussollier and Marié also turn in great performances as the film’s villains, but it’s Dany Boon who’s the heart, soul and funny bone of the story.

It’s hard to believe he wasn’t Jeunet’s first choice, because Boon seems tailor-made for the role – a modern day Buster Keaton with the ability to entertain the audience with even the most basic pantomime. Once the film moves into the revenge portion of the story, however, the comedy veers more towards the slapstick, with each zany set piece leading to the next, even zanier set piece like a Rube Goldberg contraption designed by Danny Ocean. It’s all done so effortlessly, and with Boon and his co-stars so charming throughout, that you’d have to be in a pretty sour mood not to walk out of “Micmacs” with a giant grin on your face.

Every so often, a movie comes along that sounds too good to be true. Whether it’s the talent involved, an interesting concept, or a particularly well-cut trailer, it’s easy to be duped into thinking a movie will be better than it really is. Thankfully, “Tucker and Dale vs. Evil” is not that film. A horror comedy in the spirit of “Shaun of the Dead,” "Tucker and Dale" isn’t a spoof of the genre it’s parodying (in this case, hillbilly slasher movies like “Wrong Turn”), but rather a razor-sharp homage fueled by a clever script and hilarious performances from its stars.

Alan Tudyk and Tyler Labine star as Tucker and Dale, two good ‘ol boys on their way to fix up their newly purchased vacation home in the woods when they cross paths with a group of college students who think they’re serial killers. So when the duo saves one of the students (Katrina Bowden) after she falls into the lake and hits her head on a rock, her friends think that she’s been abducted and being held captive in their cabin. Determined to fight back, the students take turns going after the supposed hunters, but every time they do, they only end up killing themselves instead. From their point of view, it certainly looks like Tucker and Dale are responsible for the bloody mayhem, but the two friends are nothing but unlucky – a fact that only becomes clearer when the group’s bloodthirsty leader (Jesse Moss) takes matters into his own hands

“Tucker and Dale vs. Evil” is a movie built around a series of ridiculous coincidences (just like the films it playfully pokes fun at), and while it may seem a bit far-fetched at times, it’s all part of the experience. Writer/director Eli Craig is obviously a big fan of the genre, because he knows which strings to pull and how to pull them. He’s crafted some pretty memorable death scenes that, despite causing fits of laughter, don’t skimp on the bloody details either. There’s plenty of gooey viscera splattered throughout the film, but its strengths lie in Craig’s script – particularly the exchanges between its title characters as they ponder the reason why these students would be killing themselves.

For as funny as the script may be, however, there would be no “Tucker and Dale” without Alan Tudyk and Tyler Labine, who have such great onscreen chemistry that you wouldn’t mind them starring in every movie together. Labine ends up playing a much larger role than his co-star due to a romantic subplot between him and Katrina Bowden, but Tudyk arguably gets the better material, including one scene no doubt inspired by “Fargo.” If only the actors playing the college students were even remotely as good. Granted, most of them are nothing more than stupid bait, but Jesse Moss plays such a pivotal role that his over-the-top performance is distracting. It’s the only element that doesn’t work as well as the others, but even though “Tucker and Dale vs. Evil” is a mostly one-joke affair, it finds ways to keep you laughing even when it’s not at its best.

With grindhouse cinema making a bit of a comeback in recent years with movies like “Black Dynamite,” “Hell Ride,” and of course, “Grindhouse,” Elijah Drenner’s documentary about the history of exploitation film couldn’t have come at a better time. Narrated by Robert Forster (who’s appeared in his share of B-movies), “American Grindhouse” tracks this shameless and shocking breed of moviemaking from its birth in the early 1900s to its illusory transition into mainstream cinema today. Featuring interviews with directors like John Landis, Joe Dante and Jack Hill, and film historians like Eric Schaeffer and Eddie Muller, “American Grindhouse” may be a little vanilla in its presentation, but it’s a pretty fascinating story nonetheless.

In fact, while exploitation movies have been around almost as long as the movie camera itself, what’s most interesting about the genre is how much it’s evolved throughout the years. Drenner’s film studies this evolution, beginning with the implementation of the Hays Code by the MPAA, which forced filmmakers to brand their movies as “educational” in order to feature nudity or any other type of suggestive nature. This led to the “birth of baby” films of the 1930s, and eventually, branched out into the post-war burlesque movies of the 40s. For my money, though, exploitation cinema didn’t really take off until the arrival of nudie-cuties like Russ Meyer’s “The Immoral Mr. Tease” (which many consider to be the very first porno) and “women in danger” films like Herschell Gordon Lewis’s “Scum of the Earth.”

Along the way, Drenner also covers the gore films of the 60s and 70s (including a lengthy discussion about Wes Craven’s controversial “The Last House on the Left”), as well Blaxploitation cinema, “women in prison” films, Nazi exploitation movies, and the mainstream success of “Deep Throat.” The film’s most interesting segment, however, isn’t really about grindhouse cinema at all, but rather studio-funded movies like “Jaws” that offered the thrills of a B-movie with the production values of a Hollywood blockbuster. It’s exactly this change in the Hollywood system that essentially put an end to grindhouse, but as director John Landis is keen to point out, the very term “exploitation” is subjective, because as long as there’s an element you can exploit, it falls under the category of an exploitation film.

Landis may be the most recognizable name in “American Grindhouse,” but without his insightful and often humorous commentary, the movie wouldn’t be nearly as entertaining. He brings some really great ideas to the table that the other interview subjects fail to even consider – namely the concept that mainstream hits like “Passion of the Christ” and “American Gangster” are actually exploitation films in disguise. It certainly makes sense, and if there’s one thing you should take away from “American Grindhouse,” it’s that exploitation cinema isn’t dead. In fact, if Landis is to be believed, it never will be. That may not be what Drenner was trying to accomplish with this film, but it’s a message I’m sure he could get behind.

Matthew Vaughn hasn't had the greatest luck with comic book movies – first, he walked away from "X-Men: The Last Stand" mere weeks before filming began, and more recently, he was replaced by Kenneth Branagh as director of Marvel's big screen adaptation of "Thor" – so it's nice to finally see him find a little success in the genre. Of course, "" has had its share of problems as well, most notably in the lack of studio interest when the project was first being shopped around. And considering just how much graphic violence and language courses through Mark Millar and John Romita Jr.'s eight-issue miniseries, you can sort of understand why. Thankfully, that didn't deter Vaughn from just securing the financing himself, because in doing so, he was provided the freedom needed to create the kind of balls-to-the-wall comic book movie that its bold source material deserved.

For teenage geek Dave Lizewski (Aaron Johnson), comic books aren't just an escape from the social hierarchy of high school, but a lesson in morals as well. When he wonders why no one has tried to do the superhero thing in real life, he throws on an old wet suit and heads into the city to fight crime. It doesn't go quite as well as he imagined, but his random act of bravery is recorded and uploaded to YouTube where he becomes an overnight sensation as the masked crusader, Kick-Ass, spawning an entire subculture of costumed heroes in the process. Meanwhile, father-daughter duo Damon and Mindy Macready (Nicolas Cage and Chloe Moretz) really are living the secret lives of superheroes, and when they catch wind of Kick-Ass' clumsy heroics, they decide to team up with the kid to take down the local crime boss, Frank D'Amico (Mark Strong).

There’s more to the story that would be considered a spoiler to first-time readers of the comic – namely, the reveal that Kick-Ass’ new superhero pal, Red Mist (Christopher Mintz-Plasse), is actually Frank’s son, Chris, in disguise – but it’s announced so early on in the film version that you’re not surprised when he turns out to be working for the bad guys. In fact, there are plenty of differences between the book and the movie, but with the exception of Dave’s relationship with high school crush Katie Deauxma (Lyndsy Fonesca) – which follows the same general path until it veers off into a decidedly more Hollywood-friendly direction – it’s mostly just additional material meant to flesh out characters that didn’t have as much of a presence in the comic book.

And even when the movie isn’t using the comic as a blueprint, it still feels like it belongs in “Kick-Ass.” Director Matthew Vaughn clearly understands the world that Millar and Romita Jr. have created, and that familiarity resonates throughout, from the high-energy action scenes to the colorful performances from its cast. Aaron Johnson is a real find as the title character – a Peter Parker type who can play both dorky and cool – but it’s his pint-sized co-star who walks away with the film. Chloe Moretz has already proven that she’s mature beyond her years (see: “500 Days of Summer”), but she easily trumps that performance with an instantly iconic role that places her in the middle of some of the coolest, most wildly violent fight sequences since “Kill Bill.” Even Nicolas Cage is at the top of his game as his character’s alter ego, Big Daddy – a vigilante so conceptually similar to Batman that Cage speaks with an Adam West-like cadence.

That’s exactly the kind of detail that might drive some fans crazy, but it complements Vaughn’s vision nicely, because his “Kick-Ass” is more of a satire of the superhero genre than a straight-up action flick. And when you have an 11-year-old girl running around town chopping up gangsters, how could you not acknowledge the absurdity of the situation? Millar’s book had its moments, but Vaughn mines the material for even more laughs, especially in the relationships between Aaron and his friends (Clark Duke and Evan Peters), Kick-Ass and Red Mist, and Big Daddy and Hit-Girl. The end result is an entertaining blend of action and comedy that, despite falling short of its ridiculously high expectations, delivers everything that was awesome about the comic and more.

Patrick Wilson hasn’t had the greatest of luck when it comes to movies and his manhood. He was castrated by a diabolical Ellen Page in “Hard Candy” and had trouble getting it up in Zack Snyder’s big screen adaptation of “Watchmen.” His third go-around with this particularly emasculating complication is Chris D’Arienzo’s “,” a movie that manages to be both funny and touching when it doesn’t seem capable of either. Though the film is obviously targeted towards a certain audience (namely, the kind of adult males who frequent this site), the fact that it plays like “Knocked Up” for grown-ups pretty much guarantees it will cast a larger net upon release.

Wilson plays the title character, a thirtysomething slacker with one thing on his mind: women. But when an embarrassing incident involving an underage girl, her father, and a trumpet results in him losing both of his testicles, Barry’s confidence plummets. To make matters worse, he returns from the hospital to discover that Ginger Farley (Judy Greer), a woman he doesn’t even remember having sex with, is carrying his illegitimate child. Faced with the prospect of his family name dying with him, Barry decides to embrace the pregnancy and his duties as the father – a decision that leads to the realization that it may have taken losing his manhood for him to finally become a man.

Based on the Frank Turner Hollon novel, “Life is a Strange Place,” D’Arienzo’s film is an indie-sized production with a Hollywood-sized cast. Though the first-time director doesn’t bring much visually to the project, the screenplay (which he also wrote) is loaded with big laughs and even bigger heart. It may come off as a little weird that Barry Munday is able to transform from a wannabe ladies man into a responsible father so quickly, but when you take into account the fact that he’ll never be able to reproduce again, it actually makes a lot of sense. Most men think about the future of their legacy at some point in their lives, and though Barry can come across like an immature jerk at times, his journey to parenthood is engaging enough that you still root for him.

Still, it would be a pretty hard sell without someone like Patrick Wilson in the lead role, as the success of the film hinges on his performance. Wilson has been delivering solid work for years, but he’s still a relative unknown to most moviegoers. “BARRY MUNDAY” isn’t going to change that, but it’s a great venue for his talent, especially considering the role is so different from previous work. Judy Greer is also great as the homely mother-to-be, and Chloe Sevigny and Malcolm McDowell (as Ginger’s younger sister and father, respectively) bring life to otherwise paper-thin characters, but this is Wilson’s show. And when you’re playing the title character of a movie that proudly presents his name in all caps, that’s the way it should be.

Now that I’ve arrived in Austin, it seems like the hours until opening night are ticking away even faster. That means that this preview of sorts won’t be too in-depth, but I figured that I should at least let everyone know what movies I’m most excited for because, well, those are the ones that you’re going to hear more about over the course of the next week. So, without further ado, here are a few of my must-see films of SXSW.

This one’s a no-brainer, since it also happens to be the biggest movie playing at the festival, but the fact that I’m also a huge fan of Mark Millar and John Romita Jr.’s comic book means that I’m especially excited for this one. Early word suggests that director Matthew Vaughn has crafted a comic book movie to rival “The Dark Knight,” and from the footage that’s been released thus far, that doesn’t seem like a big stretch. Anticipation for this one is at an all-time high. The fact that I get to see it a whole month early? Pure fanboy bliss.

Here’s all you need to know about Eli Craig’s horror-comedy, “Tucker and Dale vs. Evil”: it’s been said that the film does for hillbilly slasher films what “Shaun of the Dead” did for the zombie genre. Oh yeah, and it also stars two of the funniest dudes in the business in Alan Tudyk and Tyler Labine. Need more proof? Check out the trailer below and try not to laugh.

I absolutely love Jean-Pierre Jeunet. “The City of Lost Children” was one of my very first experiences with foreign cinema and “Amélie” ranks high among my favorite movies of the last decade. His latest film, “Micmacs,” looks like it falls somewhere between the two – a quirky crime caper about a man adopted by a motley crew of junkyard dealers after his invention is stolen by a weapon manufacturer. At least, that’s what it seems to be about, but with Jeunet, you never really know.

Anyone that grew up with the original “Star Wars” trilogy probably has a few words for George Lucas after their childhoods were raped (an exaggerated but nonetheless popular sentiment among many hardcore fans) with the release of the new trilogy. This doc by Alexandre O. Philippe investigates this worldwide backlash as the director you love to hate goes on trial for his “crimes” against the geek elite. There’s no way the movie is going to live up to that wonderful title, but it’ll probably be a fun little flick nonetheless.