TGIF: Movie capsules

“ALVIN AND THE CHIPMUNKS: CHIPWRECKED” — Puns like these would be unforgivable coming from a human. From high-pitched rodents, they prompt calls for an exterminator. The third in the noxiously contemporary series of new Chipmunks films, “Chipwrecked” is full of the cheapest kind of pop culture references. Here is Alvin aping James Bond with a tail that’s “shaken, not stirred,” a suggestion to follow the Chipmunks on “Critter” and (gulp) a Charlie Sheen-ism of “winning.” This latest Chipmunks film, aimed at by Mike Mitchell (“Shrek Forever After”), is aimed at a slightly younger demographic than the prior movies (it’s rated G), and perhaps shallow references like these are enough to delight youngsters. But I doubt it. Do parents really want stale, cringe-worthy expressions like “Awkward!” instilled in another generation? The Chipmunks’ father figure, Dave Seville (Jason Lee, looking vaguely hostagelike), takes his diminutive computer-generated friends on a vacation cruise en route to the Grammy-esque Global Music Awards, where the Chipmunks and the Chipettes are an keenly awaited pop sensation. But the antics of Alvin (Justin Long) throw them overboard and they wash up on a deserted island. David Cross and Jenny Slate do their best to help. G. 1 hour, 27 minutes. 1.5 stars

“THE ARTIST” — The best validation for the nostalgia of “The Artist” is the film, itself. A silent movie in tribute to silent movies, it puts its money where its mouth is, so to speak — or not. Michel Hazanavicius’ black-and-white, near-wordless film is a loving, irresistibly charming ode to a long-ago movie era that not only command the dormant conventions of silent moviemaking, but makes them dance again. Jean Dujardin stars as silent film star George Valentin, a kind of Douglas Fairbanks, blustery matinee idol. He (along with his on- and off-screen sidekick Jack Russell terrier) is the toast of Hollywood, but the excellent times are soon to end: The Talkies are coming. Kinograph Studios head Al Zimmer (John Goodman) transitions to sound films with new, talking stars. Among them is Peppy Miller (Berenice Bejo), whose ascent mirrors Valentin’s fall. Though the film is remarkably right in style and manufacture to the ancient silents, it doesn’t bear the visual flair that it should. Instead, it’s propelled by its performances, particularly Dujardin’s. He has an exquisite elegance, and builds a whole movie with only his gestures. It’s the film’s romance for the movies — and the melancholy wistfulness for the silent era — that makes it affecting, urging us to remember the simple, captivating beauty of moving images in a acting. PG-13. 1 hour, 40 minutes. 3 stars

“CONTRABAND” — Yes, this follows the tried-and-right One Last Job formula. Yes, Mark Wahlberg is nestled deep within his comfort zone as a former master criminal who’s lived a perilous life and gone straight. Still, this is a solid genre picture that knows exactly what it is, has no delusions of grandeur and carries out its task in entertaining and occasionally even suspenseful make. Based on the 2008 Icelandic film “Reykjavik-Rotterdam” and aimed at by that movie’s star, Baltasar Kormakur, “Smuggled goods” features Wahlberg as Chris Farraday, a one-time expert smuggler who’s now living a silent life as a security consultant in the New Orleans suburbs with his hairstylist wife, Kate (Kate Beckinsale), and their two young sons. When Kate’s younger brother (Caleb Landry Jones) botches a run for a precarious local drug dealer (Giovanni Ribisi, tatted, high-pitched and squirrelly) while pulling into the Port of New Orleans, Chris must come out of retirement to make up the loss to this madman. His scheme involves shipping down to Panama City to bring back millions in counterfeit bills; not only does this not go according to plot, it spins wildly out of control. Meanwhile, back in the bayou, Kate and the kids increasingly become targets of the drug dealer’s wrath. Kormakur relies too heavily on shaky-cam tricks and quick, needless zooms to pump up the tension, but some of his set pieces do play out in gut make. R. 1 hour, 49 minutes. 2.5 stars

“A DANGEROUS METHOD” — Spitting and stammering, clawing and convulsing, her jaw jutting forward and her eyes popping out of her head, Keira Knightley is a frightening force of nature. And this is only at the film’s start. It’s a brazenly over-the-top performance, a huge gamble in depicting her character’s mania and self-loathing in such intentionally off-putting make. But eventually it pays off as it makes sense in perspective, and mainly as this woman evolves. For this is a David Cronenberg film — although the pure, cultured trappings might suggest otherwise — and this time, Knightley is his monster. Set in the early 20th century in Zurich and Vienna, “A Perilous Method” follows the relationship between two of the leading voices in the development of psychoanalysis: Carl Jung (Michael Fassbender) and Sigmund Freud (Viggo Mortensen, a Cronenberg regular of late). Knightley plays Sabina Spielrein, the wealthy Russian who is as gorgeous as she is tormented, and who eventually comes between these two men. Sabina goes to Jung as his patient, not only shaking up his dull, structured life but also providing him a bountiful source of research for the new “talking cure” he’s crafting. She’s as screwed-up as she is because of spankings her father gave her early in early childhood, punishment she didn’t just endure but really started to welcome and find sexually stimulating. Fassbender, with his proper dress and carriage, quietly conveys Jung’s inner conflict, his percolating desire. Freud, of course, thinks every symptom is a manifestation of some sort of hidden sexual impulse, so Sabina’s case gives these two much to chew on. Mortensen dials down his masculinity for a performance that’s dryly humorous, full of snarky vanity and droll small digs. R. 1 hour, 39 minutes. 3 stars

“THE DESCENDANTS” — Alexander Payne makes movies about men on the brink — of a worried breakdown, of private or professional ruin and, eventually, maybe even some hard-earned peace. That’s certainly right of George Clooney here. As real-estate lawyer Matt King, he finds all in his life is in flux and on the verge of collapse simultaneously. This isn’t any simpler even though he lives in Hawaii, a place that’s supposed to be paradise. Clooney being Clooney, though, makes every stage of his character’s arc believable, from grief through rage and eventual acceptance, and he gives a performance that’s so understated as to appear effortless. Matt’s wife, Elizabeth, is lying in a hospital bed in a coma subsequent a boating accident. Matt, who hasn’t been the most available or hands-on father, must now take care of the couple’s two daughters on his own: 17-year-ancient boarding school rebel Alexandra (Shailene Woodley) and 10-year-ancient menace Scottie (Amara Miller). Then Alexandra drops another blow on her father: Elizabeth was having an affair at the time of her accident. As if all this weren’t enough to handle, Matt’s enormous family has place him in charge of deciding what to do with the 25,000 acres of pure land on Kauai that they’ve inherited from their royal Hawaiian ancestors. Payne’s pacing is often so languid that we don’t feel the sort of mounting tension that we should. But the tale keeps us guessing as to where it will go, and it features some piercing moments of emotional truth. R. 1 hour, 55 minutes. 3 stars

“EXTREMELY LOUD INCREDIBLY CLOSE” — This grief-sodden Sept. 11 drama is incredibly mawkish and extremely annoying, even irritating. Featuring Tom Hanks and Sandra Bullock, the film exists in some contrived alternate reality through which director Stephen Daldry, adapting Jonathan Safran Foer’s novel, fabricates the perfect cleansing ritual for a Sept. 11 Manhattan family in mourning. Perfect for them, that is, not for a movie audience. This tale is not a catharsis. It’s a cheat that has not anything to do with overcoming sorrow in the real world, where Sept. 11 happened. Hanks plays a dad killed in the World Trade Center attack, leaving behind a uneasy young son (Thomas Horn) who sets out to find an answer the secret of a mysterious key that his father left behind. The boy’s journey is supposed to be a healing one for him and the people around him (among them Bullock, Max von Sydow, Viola Davis and Jeffrey Wright). The film’s a class act for performances and manufacture, providing a lovely travelogue through the nooks and crannies of New York and grim images of the burning towers. And as all works through their pain, it all sounds so sweet and life-affirming. Yet it feels so extremely soppy and incredibly phony. PG-13. 2 hours, 9 minutes. 2 stars

“HAYWIRE” — A straight-up action picture may sound unusual coming from Steven Soderbergh, but as he’s over and over again demonstrated throughout his career, he’s keen to experiment with every genre imaginable. And if you look meticulously here, you’ll find it reveals glimmers of some of his greatest hits, counting “The Limey,” ‘’Traffic” and the “Ocean’s” movies. By comparison, it feels like minor Soderbergh: zippy, hugely entertaining and well-crafted as always (since he once again serves as his own cinematographer and editor), but not one of his more vital films. It does, but, mark the auspicious film debut of MMA superstar Gina Carano as special-ops terrible-ass Mallory Kane. Carano had never acted before, and not only did she do all her own stunts, she had to do them in a way that she wouldn’t injure her male co-stars, counting Ewan McGregor, Michael Fassbender and Channing Tatum. Her dialogue delivery may seem a bit stiff — and she has acknowledged that Soderbergh made some tweaks to her voice in post-manufacture — but she has tremendous presence: an intriguing mix of muscular power and eye-catching femininity. Mallory must figure out who double-crossed her, and why, after a mission in Barcelona. Soderbergh wisely emphasizes Carano’s strengths. He lets the elaborate fight scenes play out — lets us see every kick, punch and body slam — without a lot of needless edits and even without any music. You may feel as if you’ve been worked over as well. But in a excellent way. R. 1 hour, 33 minutes. 3 stars

“JOYFUL NOISE” — If some incarnation of “Glee” were to be developed for the Christian Broadcasting Network, it would probably look a lot like this. You’ve got your squeaky-clean reworkings of pop tunes from innumerable decades, which are intended to please viewers of all ages; some romance, although not anything too hot and heavy; and a large dollop of prayer, as the characters struggle to find answers with the Lord’s help. It’s really rather canny the way writer-director Todd Graff’s film caters to these large, wholesome audiences — ones that are largely underserved in mainstream multiplex fare — all at once. But that doesn’t mean it’s powerful as entertainment. Mainly during the musical numbers — which theoretically should serve as the most rousing source of emotion, since the film is about a gospel choir — there’s a weird disconnect, a sense that the songs are simultaneously overproduced and hollow, and continual cutaways to result shots of singers nodding and smiling further dent their cohesion. Queen Latifah and Dolly Parton co-star as longtime enemies battling for control over a small-town Georgia church choir. Keke Palmer and Jeremy Jordan play teens sharing a forbidden like … through song. Graff jumps around awkwardly among catfights, performances and surreptitious snuggle sessions between the two young stars. PG-13. 1 hour, 59 minutes. 1.5 stars

“MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE — GHOST PROTOCOL” — Luckily for Tom Cruise, this is one of his finest action flicks, just what he needs to restore his box-office bankability. For director Brad Bird, though, the fourth “Mission,” rock solid as it is, ranks only as his second-best action movie, after the animated smash “The Incredibles.” It’s the best of the “Mission: Impossible” movies, Bird making a remarkable transition with his first live-action film after three animated ones, among them “Ratatouille.” Bird applies the anything-can-happen limitlessness of cartoons and just goes for it, making gripping, dizzying, incredible action sequences. This time, Cruise and his team (Jeremy Renner, Paula Patton and Simon Pegg) are blamed for bombing the Kremlin, so they go rogue trying to clear their names and stop a madman (Michael Nyqvist) from early a nuclear war. Cruise is pretty much doing the same-ancient, playing the stone-face who’s not very fascinating when standing still and talking. That work ethic of Cruise, though, shows in every one of the spectacular action moments. If you have the slightest dread of heights, grip the armrests tightly during Cruise’s climb up the world’s tallest building; even safe in your seat, an unnerving suspicion of vertigo is bound to result as you stare down from the 130th floor. PG-13. 2 hours, 12 minutes. 3 stars

“RED TAILS” — The famed Tuskegee Airmen get the John Wayne-style heroic rendering they very much deserve, but also a worn-out and weirdly perspective-less tale that does them a disservice. George Lucas’ pet project has the laudable goal of proving all-black movies can be a success, but “Red Tails” reduces a historical tale of deep cultural significance to merely a flyboy flick. The film, aimed at by TV veteran Anthony Hemingway, superimposes the tale of the black World War II pilots on a dated, white genre of 1940s jingoistic propaganda. “Red Tails” is blatantly ancient-fashioned, just with a change in color. It focuses entirely on aerial combat in Europe, skipping all that pesky backstory of black men braving the separation of Jim Crowe America and, against the odds, rising up at the Tuskegee Institute. Cuba Gooding Jr. and Terrence Howard play higher-ups, but the film is centered on a band of pilots, particularly the brash, talented Joe “Lightning” Small (David Oyelowo) and his alcoholic captain Marty “Simple” Julian (Nate Parker). The script, by John Ridley and Boondocks cartoonist Aaron McGruder is swaggering but hopelessly corny and curiously avoids really fleshing out the Tuskegee Airmen’s other battle front: racism at home. The dogfights, though, are elegant and plainly staged, set against a majestic European landscape. PG-13. 2 hours, 5 minutes. 2 stars Continued…

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