Capsule movie reviews

In the animated kiddie movie “Alpha and Omega,” sometimes the wolves look like wolves and sometimes they look and move like humans; some bear an uncanny resemblance to Dora the Explorer.

That in itself should tip you off to the target audience for this unexceptional 3-D offering, which is also available in 2-D for those looking to avoid paying a ticket surcharge for low-budget animation. But the movie’s visual flatness would work best at home on the small screen, where young girls (and maybe their big sisters) would enjoy the film’s gentle, romantic shadings.

“Alpha and Omega” tells the story of the emerging love between Humphrey (voiced by Justin Long), a goofball omega wolf, and Kate (Hayden Panettiere), the foxy alpha wolf that he’s been crushing on since he was a pup. Alphas and omegas can’t marry, though, and, besides, Kate has been promised to an alpha wolf from another pack in order to settle a turf war. (Don’t ask — it’s a silly plot contrivance.)

A golfing goose (Larry Miller) and his British caddy (Eric Price) add a little humor, and the late Dennis Hopper turns up, voicing the menacing leader of the rival pack. But the story comes off as patchwork, with a climax cribbed from “The Lion King” and odd musical sequences that seem inspired by … ahem, classic Mariah Carey. It’s not quite the vision of love intended.

—Glenn Whipp

“Alpha and Omega.” MPAA rating: PG for rude humor and some mild action. Running time: 1 hour, 27 minutes. In general release.

For those whose knowledge of the Korean War doesn’t extend beyond what they learned watching repeats of “MASH,” the new documentary “Chosin” will be an eye-opener. Though it’s a bit short on context and detail, the movie boasts a host of riveting interviews with the men caught behind enemy lines in the brutal winter battle at North Korea’s Chosin Reservoir.

The men, most of whom have never shared their stories before, recall the 17 days in 1950 when 15,000 U.S. soldiers and Marines were surprised and surrounded by Chinese troops. The losses were terrible and the temperatures reached 40 below, conditions that produced scenes as cruelly surreal as any you could possibly imagine.

First-time director Brian Iglesias and his co-writer and co-producer Anton Sattler, both combat-decorated Marines and Iraq War vets, possess an obvious empathy with their subjects and a perspective on the horrors they faced. The interviewed vets seem gratified that someone is taking an interest in their efforts during this pivotal battle.

Left unanswered: Why has no one asked them to share their memories before?

—Glenn Whipp

“Chosin.” Unrated. Running time: 1 hour, 25 minutes. At Laemmle’s Sunset 5, West Hollywood.

“Heaven’s Rain” is a delicate, frequently profound drama based on the 1979 home invasion murders of an Oklahoma minister and his wife, whose two children were brutally shot and terrorized in the process. Unfortunately, the resulting film needed a more objective eye and, frankly, a grittier take than the victims’ son — producer, co-writer (with Paul Brown) and costar Brooks Douglass — was able to provide.

Hampered by Brown’s pedestrian direction, the film turns cloying and heavy-handed, particularly during its excessive, overly beatific flashbacks to Douglass’ idyllic youth. Furthermore, its faith-oriented themes, although pivotal, are often writ so large they tend to encroach instead of enlighten. Really, how many beauty shots of the heavens do we need?

Mike Vogel, a sharp, appealing young actor (“She’s Out of My League,” TV’s “Miami Medical”), plays Brooks Douglass circa 1993 as the then-freshman senator and his still-shattered sister, Leslie (Taryn Manning), hit an emotional crossroads just before the state execution of one of their family’s attackers.

Vogel and Manning (“Hustle & Flow”) rise above the exposition-heavy material, even if Vogel is less effective in flashbacks as the teen Douglass. But the rest of the otherwise low-wattage cast, which includes Brooks Douglass, playing his saintly father, and Erin Chambers as an unconvincing newbie journalist, is uniformly bland.

Nice use of the Who’s “Love, Reign o’er Me,” though.

—Gary Goldstein

“Heaven’s Rain.” MPAA Rating: R for disturbing content. Running time: 1 hour, 46 minutes. At Laemmle’s Fallbrook 7, West Hills.

In “Hideaway” (“Le Refuge”), one of François Ozon’s finest films, a young couple, Mousse (Isabelle Carré) and Louis (Melvil Poupaud), seem to have everything — great looks, money, passion, an upscale Paris apartment — and a powerful addiction to heroin. One night their dealer apparently cuts their drugs with valium, leaving Louis dead and Mousse in a coma.

This decidedly downbeat prologue, however, deftly gives way to a seductively beautiful and subtle film revealing the power of a flowering friendship between Mousse and Louis’ gay brother, Paul (singer Louis-Ronan Choisy in his film debut). After learning that she is pregnant and embarking on a methadone program, Mousse takes refuge in a former lover’s spacious beach house in a secluded, woodsy setting. Not long after she settles in, Paul drops by for a visit on his way to Spain. He lingers, and the two people try to help one another find direction in their lives.

The bond that grows between them sustains Mousse’s brief flash of jealousy over Paul’s affair with a man he meets on the beach; Paul in turn is drawn to Mousse’s maternity in her blossoming pregnancy. (Ozon and Mathieu Hippeau wrote the script to incorporate Carré’s actual pregnancy.)

“Hideaway” is a spellbinding film, and Ozon, who is perhaps best known for the much darker “Under the Sand” and “Swimming Pool,” both starring Charlotte Rampling, continues to be an inspiring director of actors.

—Kevin Thomas

“Hideaway” (“Le Refuge”). Unrated. In French with English subtitles. Running time: 1 hour, 30 minutes. In selected theaters.

A bad morning gets a whole lot worse for a beleaguered high school teacher in “Skirt Day,” (“La journée de la jupe”), a provocative if overwrought hostage drama with more on its mind than its narrow confines can manage. Isabelle Adjani, too-rarely seen on screen these days, won the 2009 Cesar Award (France’s Oscar) for her flashy role as Sonia Bergerac, a kind of Howard Beale of literature instructors, who holds an unruly bunch of students at gunpoint on the same day she breaks school code by wearing a skirt.

Adjani, no stranger to playing unstable women, goes impressively wiggy after she snaps up a bullying student’s concealed weapon and forces her class to learn about Moliere if it, well, kills them. All hell breaks loose as the media gather, school staffers clash, SWAT teams descend and a stressed negotiator tries talking Sonia out of her padlocked classroom. Meanwhile, the ill-defined Sonia (is she really the defiant eccentric she appears?) manipulates the dicey situation until the tables start to turn, then turn again.

But just what is writer-director Jean-Paul Lilienfeld’s endgame? Is it to truly explore the film’s dizzying array of issues — racism, sexism, cultural and religious identity, France’s broken educational system — or simply exploit them for cinematic gain? The answer: a little of both, but sadly not enough of the former.

—Gary Goldstein

“Skirt Day” (“La journée de la jupe”). Unrated. In French with English subtitles. Running time: 1 hour, 27 minutes. At Laemmle’s Music Hall, Beverly Hills.

In her feature debut, director Amy French gives a unique twist to a classic tale of a naïve entertainer’s rocketing stardom and crass exploitation. “El Superstar,” a loose-jointed mockumentary that is an amusing collaboration between French and her brother Spencer John French, draws upon their childhood in Beverly Hills, where their Mexican nanny had a large part in their upbringing. The siblings collaborated on the script and the songs, and Spencer stars in the title role.

Even though he had never before acted, his casting was surely inevitable. His sister would have had a hard time finding a pale, chunky balding redhead who speaks perfect Spanish, sings beautifully and can convincingly see himself as Mexican. Orphaned at three months, Juan Frances has been raised in his family’s spacious Beverly Hills home by his nanny (the always delightful Lupe Ontiveros); she and her gardener husband (Danny Trejo) have in fact adopted him. Obsessed with Jesus and the Virgin of Guadalupe, Juan works at odd jobs and hangs out with mariachis, singing ranchera songs that he has written.

After he is spotted at an East L.A. club by an ambitious Latina entertainer (Maria Esquivel) and a sleazy, avaricious promoter (David Franco), Juan becomes an overnight star and is quickly subjected to a makeover and a barrage of publicity and promotion. Ever the innocent, he performs with Esquivel garish numbers that tastelessly mix sex and religion.

“El Superstar” certainly could be more focused and sharper edged. It may be a minor film, but it does offer infectious pleasures in the endearing French and in its off-the-wall humor. It is not really a satire but rather a gentle morality play in which Juan identifies with Jesus and at last has a chance to discover his true self.

—Kevin Thomas

“El Superstar: The Unlikely Rise of Juan Frances.” Unrated. In English and Spanish with English subtitles. Running time: 1 hour, 30 minutes. At the Monica 4-Plex, Santa Monica.

How effective is humiliation comedy anymore in our anything-for-YouTube world? “The Virginity Hit,” the latest in the continuum of teenagers-in-heat romps, puts “Porky’s” into a social media scenario: scrawny high schooler Matt (Matt Bennett) isn’t just angling for his first time — whether it’s with his girlfriend (Nicole Weaver), an Internet siren who takes pity on him, or the porn star he worships — Matt’s also a 24/7 viral-video project for his intrusive, camera-toting buddies.

For all the amateur-videographer energy writer-directors Andrew Gurland and Huck Botko get from their zeitgeisty construct, having every embarrassing escapade and profane comedic exchange be part of an inside-joke documentary is like creating an unneeded layer of strained situational comedy. (Gurland and Botko co-wrote “The Last Exorcism” too, which does a far better job fusing established genre with a faux-doc conceit.) It all begins to feel like an aggressive sell job: “These kids are funny — we promise!”

Alas, they’re not: The boys come off mostly as crude, dopey louts —especially Zack Pearlman, a charmless Jonah Hill wannabe, whom you’d be hard-pressed to believe would attract any self-respecting female into their horndog orbit. That this was produced by Will Ferrell and Adam McKay is especially dispiriting. Their online humor hub Funny or Die is a viral-comedy superstore, but this Web-inspired “Superbad” rip-off is simply super bad.

—Robert Abele

“The Virginity Hit.” MPAA rating: R for strong crude and sexual content, nudity, pervasive language, drug and alcohol use. Running time: 1 hour, 30 minutes. In selected theaters.

To hear Harry Nilsson was to love him; to know him was to love him but also worry about him, it seems. The prodigiously gifted ‘60s-’70s-era singer-songwriter — boosted by the Beatles and recording studio-savvy but insecure about performing live and ultimately beholden to crippling addictions — gets a fairly thorough rockumentary treatment in John Scheinfeld’s heartfelt “Who Is Harry Nilsson (And Why Is Everybody Talkin’ About Him)?”

It’s an anecdotal tapestry, woven with remembrances by friends, colleagues and family — no wonky music experts or writerly narration to put his take-hold melodies, iconoclastic themes and gorgeous multi-octave croon into a larger musical perspective. But there’s still a loving and fizzy appeal to the cascade of songs (including the busy-signal-inspired lament “One,” his hit cover “Everybody’s Talkin’” and the loopy “Coconut”), fascinating archival footage (considering Nilsson’s penchant for privacy) and smiling I-was-there-and-survived yarns from Eric Idle, Jimmy Webb, Mickey Dolenz, Van Dyke Parks, producer Richard Perry and countless others.

If it nags a little that the film spends so much time on Nilsson’s hard-partying self-destructiveness rather than his artistic ascendancy, it doesn’t diminish the overall effect, of a personal, generous tribute reel designed to keep a musical master’s legacy very much alive.

—Robert Abele

“Who Is Harry Nilsson (And Why Is Everybody Talkin’ About Him)?” Unrated. Running time, 1 hour, 56 minutes. At Laemmle’s Sunset 5, West Hollywood.