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SOMETHING BORROWED Based on Emily Giffin's novel, this gruesome rom-com stars Ginnifer Goodwin and Kate Hudson as Rachel and Darcy, lifelong best friends both in love with Dex (Colin Egglesfield). Dex and Darcy are set to be married, but a drunken tryst between Dex and Rachel causes complications. Should they tell Darcy about their dalliance? Or should Rachel just continue to hold her tongue and allow Darcy to abscond with the only man she's ever loved? As in most formulaic romantic comedies involving a love triangle, the filmmakers attempt to make things as easy as possible for the audience by presenting one of the players as the "bad guy" — in this case, it's Hudson's shallow, self-centered ditz. But here's where this ruse backfires on director Luke Greenfield and adapter Jennie Snyder: Practically all of the characters are odious, insufferable twits, meaning we don't care about the fates of any of them. Especially unlikable is Dex, who's presented as the most desirable man in all of New York even though he's a hypocritical, indecisive, insensitive and unobservant dullard (Egglesfield's bland performance doesn't help). Only John Krasinski, as Rachel's sarcastic best friend, provides any spark. True to its generic, genetic code, Something Borrowed also features a rainstorm during a climactic confession (perhaps Thor was working overtime?) as well as the sight of our leading ladies engaging in a torturous living-room dance of an oldie but goodie. Yet as they gyrated their way through Salt-N-Pepa's "Push It," all I could think was how I wanted to take this movie and shove it. *
SOURCE CODE Has Duncan Jones already sold out? It's hard to say, but Source Code, his sophomore effort as director, can only be considered a disappointment given his knock-it-out-of-the-park debut. 2009's Moon, which missed my 10 Best list that year by one spot, was a dazzling achievement, the sort of heady sci-fi extravaganza one would expect from the son of David Bowie. Source Code is far more mainstream; that's not meant as a knock, but this highly entertaining movie concludes with what will doubtless remain one of the worst sell-out endings of the year. Jake Gyllenhaal stars as Colter Stevens, a soldier who's being used in an experiment that allows him to occupy the body of one Sean Fentress, who's about to be killed, along with all the other passengers, by a bomb planted on a Chicago commuter train. Colter's mission is to use those last eight minutes in Sean's body to ferret out the killer's identity and thereby prevent any future attacks. As explained by his military contact (Vera Farmiga) and the experiment's creator (Jeffrey Wright), he will keep being sent back to those eight minutes until he acquires the knowledge being sought. It's a Groundhog Day scenario mined for tension rather than laughs, and while it's not that difficult to ID the assassin, the fun comes in watching Colter repeatedly interact with the other commuters and use knowledge from previous "trips" to inform the decisions he makes on subsequent jumps. There's really only one way for all this to end, but scripter Ben Ripley jerry-rigs his own storyline by coming up with a conclusion that's illogical, infuriating and impossible to defend. It provides Source Code with a sour coda that cripples an otherwise sweet ride. **1/2
SUPER 8 Writer-director J.J. Abrams' Super 8 is set in 1979, a year that's nestled between the release dates of Steven Spielberg's first two blockbusters, 1975's Jaws and 1977's Close Encounters of the Third Kind, and his subsequent two blockbusters, 1981's Raiders of the Lost Ark and 1982's E.T. The Extra-Terrestrial. (Spielberg's underrated 1941, which was released in 1979, was a flop.) The selection of this year makes sense, since the picture itself is surrounded on all sides by the influence — nay, the very spirit — of Mr. Spielberg (who, incidentally, is involved as a co-producer). But while imitation may be the sincerest form of flattery, it's not always the best way to make a movie. Super 8 is a thoroughly entertaining popcorn flick, but one does get the sense of Abrams sweating up a storm in an effort to produce the sort of guileless matinee magic that Spielberg conveyed effortlessly. Newcomer Joel Courtney handles the starring role of Joe Lamb, who agrees to help his best friend Charles (Riley Griffiths) shoot a zombie movie for an amateur filmmaking competition in their home state of Ohio. Along with their gangly pals (Ryan Lee, Gabriel Basso and Zach Mills), as well as their reluctant classmate Alice (Elle Fanning, a revelation here), the crew proceeds to begin filming at a rural railroad stop in the middle of the night, only to have said shoot interrupted when a train carrying a mysterious cargo derails. The military soon comes a-callin', followed shortly by a series of mysterious disappearances around town. E.T.'s suburban setting, Close Encounters' sense of government secrecy, Jaws' initially unseen menace, Raiders' climactic cliffhanger-style thrills — all of these elements are dutifully channeled by Abrams, who takes the classic Spielberg model and outfits it with a new engine. The effects are more polished, the Dolby sound is ratcheted up, and what was once spanking new (Walkmans, The Knack's "My Sharona") is now employed in the film as misty nostalgia. ***
