Mental real estate is growing scarce as the Marvel Cinematic Universe continues to expand, introducing dozens of new characters (both super-powered and not) every year for fans to get acquainted with. Mere months after the jam-packed, super-sized Avengers: Age of Ultron hit theaters, we’re visited by the Ant-Man, a funny little fellow whose brothers in arms aren’t Asgardian gods or raging green monsters, but tiny critters skittering about, virtually invisible to the naked eye. Where does a mini-hero like Ant-Man fit into the pantheon of larger-than-life superheroes? Will anyone even notice?

Probably not. Peyton Reed‘s Ant-Man is a respectably entertaining cog in the MCU machine, but it does little to set itself apart from its beefier big brothers. It’s got things other Marvel movies don’t: it’s a heist movie; Ant-Man’s the first superhero father (Hawkeye’s a secret agent!); the action is small-scale (and very easy to follow). But Reed ain’t foolin’ nobody. This is as formulaic a movie as Marvel’s ever produced. Its third act is a lot of fun, but everything beyond that feels safe, as if the movie is afraid to dive into the loony ideas it dips its toes into (James Gunn‘s Guardians of the Galaxy dove straight into the deep end, positioning it as the cooler, edgier alternative to the Avengers). If only all superhero movies could be as courageous as their mighty protags.

Michael Douglas anchors the film as Hank Pym, a scientist who in the ’70s invented a super suit that grants its wearer the ability to shrink down to bug size while retaining the strength of a 200-pound man, essentially making him (or her) the stealthiest, most dangerous super soldier the world’s ever seen. Fearing the chaos that would ensue should the technology fall into the wrong hands, Hank hides his invention away to never be found again. Fast-forward to present-day, and it’s found, again, by his former protégé, Darren Cross (Corey Stoll), who’s taken over PymTech and plans to unleash an army of shrinking suits on the world.

Unwilling to let his ass-kicking daughter, Hope (Evangeline Lilly) don his old suit, he employs talented thief Scott Lang (Paul Rudd) to infiltrate Cross’ labs and steal back the dangerous tech and end this mess. Scott’s just been released from prison and has vowed to give up his former life of crime, but Hank promises to help him reunite with his young daughter (Abby Ryder Forston), who lives with Scott’s ex-wife, Maggie (Judy Greer, underutilized again) and her husband (Bobby Cannavale). Unable to secure a clean job due to his dirty record, Scott agrees to take on the proverbial “one last job.”

Formulaic. Formulaic. You can smell the tropes from a mile away. Just as the plot gets set in motion, the film screeches to a halt as we watch Scott learn to use the Ant-Man suit and speak to ants with his mind (it’s a protracted training montage). Running parallel is a story of father-daughter resentment, which comes to a head in a terrifically acted scene between Lilly and Douglas that nonetheless makes you feel absolutely lousy in an otherwise largely comedic affair.

Rudd always seems to know how to make a scene funny, but seldom do I find his smartass-ness downright hilarious. He’s a comedian of modest talents, though he’s well-rounded and handsome enough to make him a viable leading man. He gets a passing grade. His greatest strength as an actor is that he’s pretty hard not to like, which in the case of a movie like Ant-Man comes in handy: we genuinely want to see him reunited with his daughter. (Just for the record, Ryder Forston is insanely adorable; she’s missing her two front teeth, so none of us stand a chance.)

The surprise standouts of the cast are Tip “T.I.” Harris and Michael Peña, who play Scott’s bumbling burglar buddies. Peña’s comedic delivery is off-the-charts good, and he actually sort of makes Rudd look bad; Rudd’s jokes get mild chuckles while Peña’s makes the audience explode with laughter. Stoll has a great look, his powerful frame and villainously bald head making him more physically imposing than your typical mad scientist. If you blink, you’ll miss his best moment: somberly, like an abandoned child, he asks his former mentor why he pushed him away. Hank replies, “Because I saw too much of myself.” The movie’s pervading theme is one of the passing of generations, which stimulates little thought and doesn’t lend the movie much richness. It does, at least, give the story a solid foundation.

Thankfully, the movie gets really darned good once the big heist gets underway. After an hour or so of mediocrity, things really click into place; the action becomes more playful and inventive, and the actors start to let loose (especially Peña’s character, who sucks so bad at going undercover he just starts clocking security guards left and right and talking smack over their unconscious bodies). The final battle takes place in a little girl’s bedroom, and the ensuing visual gags are wildly entertaining and super funny. Ant-Man‘s micro-comedy isn’t as funny as the stuff Pixar did with the Toy Story franchise, but it comes close, which is a major compliment.

If Ant-Man‘s finale wasn’t so great, I wouldn’t hesitate to suggest you skip the movie entirely. References to other movies in the MCU (a certain winged Avenger makes a guest appearance) are cute and fun, though your enjoyment of that stuff depends on your geekiness level. Edgar Wright had an infamous falling-out with Marvel Studios partway through production and was replaced by Reed, and I wonder if the balls Ant-Man seems to be lacking went away along with the Shaun of the Dead mastermind.

Spy is built on a very cool idea. The Melissa McCarthy vehicle casts the terrific comedienne, at the height of her career, in the last role you’d think to put her in: ass-kicking, globe-trotting super spy (Jean Bond, if you will). For the most part, it succeeds, revitalizing the endlessly revisited 007 parody with some snappy comedy, an extremely compatible ensemble, and some genuine surprises that keep things moving at a speedy clip. Its biggest weakness, unfortunately, is pervading, and is one of the most infuriating clichés in modern comedy. I’ll get to that in a minute. (You’ll just have to wait a little longer and read through the rest of my review to find out what it is, Agent Whatsyername. Don’t look down…unless you enjoy the sight of sharks with freakin’ laser beams attached to their heads! Muahahahaha!!!)

Ahem. Anyway, Spy begins with McCarthy playing Susan Cooper, a CIA desk analyst who feeds remote assistance to super-suave field operative Bradley Fine (Jude Law, whose unrealized dreams of playing Bond are semi-realized here). Fine’s on a mission that goes terribly wrong when he accidentally shoots a baddie in the head while interrogating him, a shocking moment that proudly announces the movie as a full-on spoof. The bungled assignment leaves the CIA in a tight spot: the new big bad, an obnoxiously posh Brit named Rayna (Rose Byrne), has revealed that she knows the identities of every active CIA field operative, making she and her flock of henchmen virtually impossible to sneak up on.

Left without any options, CIA boss Elaine Crocker (Allison Janney) sends mousy Susan out into the field to track Rayna (the only person in the world who knows the secret location of a nuclear bomb) from afar and report any activity. Naturally, Susan disregards the “from afar” part and mixes it up with Rayna and her musclebound goons across Paris, Rome, and Budapest. She’s receives help from her very own earpiece analyst, played by an endearingly klutzy Miranda Hart (she and McCarthy’s sizable height difference is a nice visual gag). As a bonus, the agency sends a handsy Italian Lothario named Aldo (Peter Serafinowicz) to aid Susan, though he only seems interested in caressing her bosom.

Susan’s efforts to nab Rayna get dicey when she’s forced to go undercover and act as the bitchy Brit’s personal bodyguard. Making things worse in a hilarious way is Jason Statham, playing a cocky rogue agent with a long list of dubious war stories. He’s all bark and no bite, and his sloppiness only gets in the way of Susan’s mission, as she’s constantly having to save his ass instead of focusing on the mission at hand.

Director Paul Feig is smart to allow McCarthy to explore her range. Her comedic timing and delivery is world-class (she gives Samuel L. Jackson a run for his money when it comes to cursing people out), but she’s got dramatic chops as well, and the movie’s got enough serious beats in it (all of which McCarthy carries on her shoulders) to keep us invested in the story and the characters’ fates.

The ensemble on display perhaps isn’t the most comedically talented when taken on an individual basis, but as a collective they have shockingly effortless chemistry across the board. Statham overachieves in his role as the butterfingered, loudmouth lummox, and is arguably as funny as McCarthy. Bobby Cannavale plays a slick, international mob-boss villain; it’s a small part, but he nevertheless gave me the biggest laugh of the movie in a scene where he’s running towards a helicopter like a frightened school boy, squealing, “Hurry up, hurry up, hurry up!”

The best gags are set up by the inherent humor in the film’s premise. Susan’s rotating undercover identities run the gamut of middle-aged lady archetypes, from “cat lady” to “soccer mom.” In one scene, Susan giggles with excitement as she walks through a test lab full of cool, shiny gadgets she’ll get to use on her mission. To her disappointment, it’s revealed that, due to her being undercover, the only gadgets she’s able to use are disguised as stereotypical “mom products” like tampons and fungal spray.

Okay, time to lay it all out on the table: “You look like” jokes have got to be stopped. Enough already. Literally every mainstream comedy that’s come out in the past 5-7 years is chock full of them, and Spy is no exception. You know what I’m talking about. When Susan’s given a midwest-mom secret identity, she exclaims in disgust, “I look like somebody’s homophobic aunt.” When Rayna sees Susan and her earpiece buddy sitting next to each other, she says “you look like a pair of demented aunts.” When Susan sees Statham’s rogue agent wearing a ridiculous hairpiece and fake mustache as a disguise, she says, “you look like a perverted bus driver.” There are easily 20 or more jokes like this throughout the movie, and I couldn’t help but cringe as they piled up. It’s one of the cheapest trends in comedy today, its creativity level on par with the “yo momma” jokes from that insufferable Wilmer Valderrama MTV show from the mid ’00s.

Aside from only being mildly funny at best, these cheap one-liners actually do real damage to Spy. The movie’s two hours long (which feels pretty bloated for a comedy), and maybe if Feig had cut out a big portion of the mostly disposable schoolyard barbs, the movie maybe could have been cut down to a more appetizing 90-100 minutes. These jokes were a thorn in my side, and I’d be interested to see how the movie would play if Feig would just pluck it out.

Once I calmed down from my “you look like”-induced rage, I was able to clear my head and realize that, in hindsight, I had a really fun time with Spy. While Feig doesn’t reach same level of quality he did with Bridesmaids, he gives McCarthy’s talent the platform it’s deserved for a long time, and she makes the most of it. She’s pretty much irreplaceable in today’s comedy landscape, and this hopefully won’t be the last time we see her excel in a tailor-made starring role.

Director Ross Katz (Taking Chance) has a bit of fun without leaving the shallow end of the pool in his sophomore full-length feature, Adult Beginners. It’s a generally tame but warmly entertaining familial dramedy steered by three very talented grown-ups: Nick Kroll, Rose Byrne and Bobby Cannavale. The former two play an estranged brother and sister reconnecting at a pivotal time in their lives; the latter two play a relatively happy married couple whose world is consumed by their young, wily son. The drama that ensues is packed on pretty light. Low-stakes affairs don’t typically go over well at the movies, but this thing, as it turns out, has just enough charm and humor to make it pleasurable, especially on a lazy Sunday afternoon, cuddled up in your favorite onesie, a heaping bowl of cereal at the ready.

A flash of comedic buffoonery opens the movie, the high energy of which is never revisited again. We meet entrepreneur Jake (Kroll) celebrating the launch of his new startup with his tech-bro business partners in his expensive Manhattan apartment, making rich douchebag jokes, making out with his hot girlfriend, and snorting blow. Before the opening credits end, Jake’s business abruptly crashes due to a logistics oversight he made, losing he and all his buddies a ton of cash. Dejected, dumped by said hot girlfriend, and nauseous from riding the train backwards, Jake returns to his hometown of New Rochelle where his sister, Justine (Byrne), is raising a family in their childhood home. Her husband, Danny (Cannavale), persuades her to hire Jake (now broke as a joke) as their son Teddy’s babysitter.

Justine’s faith in Jake is rightfully uneasy. He’s a self-absorbed, pig-headed bellyacher who easily rivals the bouncing 3-year-old as the most high-maintenance person in the house. She needs the help, though: On top of being constantly pressured at work, she’s got another baby in the oven. Danny, while unquestionably in love with Justine, is sexually stonewalled due to her high-demand schedule and brother issues. Naturally, as per indie comedy tradition, he has a moment (or two, or three) of weakness, seeking affection outside the relationship. Just as naturally, Jake starts to get pretty good at being an uncle. He goes from rolling Teddy around in a suitcase (he can’t figure out how to configure the stroller) to eventually preparing the tyke’s favorite snacks and lulling him to sleep with old story-time cassettes.

Throughout, Adult Beginners is schematic and derivative, but the three mains are game enough to keep things interesting surprisingly soulful. In almost everything she’s in, Byrne is the pick of the litter. As a gift to Katz and writers Liz Flahive and Jeff Cox, she breathes life into scenes that on paper are kind of flaccid and uninspired. Cannavale isn’t the most versatile actor, but the fact that he and Byrne have been dating in real life for years obviously makes for an easy dynamic between them. Kroll’s humor is admittedly not up my alley. Sometimes he hits me in the gut and I burp up a laugh, but he throws a lot of big whiffs too, especially when he tries to be a funny asshole (all I see is asshole). He’s actually most useful when he’s being sincere, a pleasant surprise considering his background.

It’s hard to shake the similarities between Katz’s movie and Craig Johnson’s The Skeleton Twins, if you’ve seen it. That indie sibling dramedy, which has Kristen Wiig and Bill Hader filling Byrne and Kroll’s shoes in a broadly similar narrative, has a much larger spectrum of emotion: the laughs are louder, the drama is more heightened and deepened, and the actors showcase more of their talent. Adult Beginners feels too stabilized and mild-mannered to warrant more than a sick-day rental.

Right about now, a few short weeks away from the premiere of The Avengers: Age of Ultron, it’s pretty easy to forget that Marvel‘s got another movie cooking for release this summer in the form of Ant-Man. The film is set to drop July 17th and the second full trailer has arrived (though the first consisted mostly of a voiceover from Michael Douglas, so might as well consider this the first real one).

While most of the plot details are being kept under wraps, what we do know is that Ant-Man follows Scott Lang (Paul Rudd), a reformed small time crook, who falls under the mentorship of Hank Pym (Douglas). To save the wildly powerful Ant-Man suit, Lang must put his thieving skills back to work and pull off an impossible heist, all while the fate of the world hangs in the balance.

After all the drama with Edgar Wright finally settled, Adam McKay punched up the script, and Payton Reed (The Break-Up, Yes Man) stepped in to direct. Rudd’s supporting cast is pretty top-notch: Judy Greer, Hayley Atwell, John Slattery, Bobby Cannavale, Michael Pena, and Corey Stroll as Darren Cross/Yellowjacket.

So, there are a ton of questions left unresolved here (most of them being in the vein of, how great would Edgar Wright’s Ant-Man have been?), but Rudd is a lot of fun with the right material, and this trailer shows that he’s been given some room to breathe and be Paul Rudd. And, while this Ant-Man might be a more vanilla, more paint-by-numbers-Marvel-movie than the dream version could have been, we’ll be lining up July 17th to watch two tiny guys fight on a model train set.

Ant-Man Trailer

It’s about time. Nick Kroll has been a consistently funny presence everywhere he’s popped up over the last few years (Kroll Show, The League, and as The Douche on Parks and Rec), so it’s safe to say we’re pretty excited to watch him lead a film.

Adult Beginners sees Kroll play Jake, a guy who has recently destroyed his career, lost all of his money, and made some enemies. To get away from it all he sneaks away to his sister’s (the woefully underrated Rose Byrne) to hide out and cool down, only to become the nanny of her baby and clash with her husband (Bobby Cannavale).

The dramedy, co-written by Kroll and directed by Ross Katz, looks to set Kroll a little out of his abrasive comfort zone (though not too far) and place some real emotional heft on his shoulders. So, while comedy and drama can be a tough nut for most films to crack, the supporting cast alone is enough to ease some worry; Byrne (Neighbors, This Is Where I Leave You) and Cannavale (the still-wonderful The Station Agent) both tend to bring searing depth to even the most minor roles (see: The Place Beyond The Pines and Blue Jasmine respectively).

Adult Beginners came out of TIFF 2014 on a high note, not to mention the trailer is hilarious. Check it out below.

Adult Beginners trailer

Between viewing options like Godzilla and X-Men: Days of Future Past, which make up the usual beginning-of-Summer box-office listings, is the smaller scaled and incredibly satisfying Chef. Jon Favreau takes a break from action movies and mainstream projects to get back to his indie comedy origins.

In Chef, Favreau (who wrote and directed) plays LA chef Carl Casper, a tattooed foodie who starts the film preparing for a big deal food critic who will be dining that evening at the posh restaurant where he works. He creates a creative new menu to showcase his culinary talents, aided in the kitchen by Martin (John Leguizamo) and Tony (Bobby Cannavale), his friends and associates. When the restaurant’s owner Riva (Dustin Hoffman) puts the pressure on Casper to play “his greatest hits” and stick to their usual menu, he gives in and predictably receives a horrible review by critic Ramsey Michel (Oliver Platt) who calls him out on having given up on the inspired dishes of his youth to cater to the boring palettes of the social élite.

Shaken by the review, Casper ruminates on the accusations, and when introduced to Twitter by his ten-year old son, Percy, he finds an outlet in which to retaliate, which he does without realizing the very public nature of Twitter. The Internet turns the online dual into an even bigger deal and Casper challenges Michel to another tasting, but when Riva puts his foot down once again Casper reaches his breaking point, quitting his job and erupting on Michel in a very public outburst that only perpetuates the scandal as its shared online. When his good friend Molly (Scarlet Johansson) points out that he hasn’t been truly happy in some time, Casper can’t help but face the music about his life and ambition.

Dejected and out of options Casper takes his ex-wife Inez (Sofia Vergara) up on an offer to go to Miami to spend more time with his son and in a way get back to his own roots in food making. In a hilarious cameo by Robert Downey Jr. playing Inez’s other ex-husband, Casper is offered a food truck and he decides to finally go into business for himself making the food he does best: cuban sandwiches. Joined by his best friend Martin and his son, the three make the trek from Miami to LA and Casper doesn’t just learn how to be the chef he should be, but also the father he should be as well.

With a touch of shmaltz and a whole lot of butter, this film should not be seen on an empty stomach. Favreau takes his time, allowing his characters to develop with the same precision and delicacy each meal on-screen is made with. Emjay Anthony plays Percy, Casper’s son, and his big brown eyes perfectly convey the sort of constant watching a young boy does of his father; looking for cues, lessons, and love. Like other foodie films, Chef doesn’t dance around the metaphors of recipes for food as recipes for love, but uses it to great effect. And the film is truly hilarious, using Casper’s lack of social media understanding for quite a few jokes that keep the film from feeling too indie.

Favreau uses all his famous friends (Downey Jr. and Johannson are both from Iron Man) but doesn’t abuse them, letting Leguizamo do the sort of cheeky comedy he’s so good at. The film’s ending is a bit Hollywood perfect and I wouldn’t advise anyone consider this an accurate career representation. Also, Casper’s naïve reaction to his food’s criticism doesn’t serve much as a lesson in thick skin by any means, and any allegory to Favreau’s own opinions on criticism of his work isn’t especially effective. But what Favreau maybe unintentionally proves is that when a creator gets to the core of what they do best, their work will almost always be applauded, and Chef is the kind of filmmaking Favreau excels at.

Chef is a fun summer film that leaves viewers happy and heart warmed, albeit hungry. No explosions or caped crusaders necessary.

Chef trailer

Co-directors Rob Epstein and Jeffrey Friedman bring the story of Linda Lovelace, a celebrity in the adult entertainment industry, to the very screen that brought her fame into mainstream culture from her seductive role in Deep Throat. Lovelace was made for half of the amount that Deep Throat was made for back in 1972 (not including adjustment for inflation) with seemingly a quarter of the amount of inspiration. The film attempts to produce laughs, chills, and entertainment, but fails to deliver any of those qualities.

One of the first things you are likely to notice about Lovelace are the aesthetics of the film; a high contrasting warm color palette shot on grainy film stock against a rocking soundtrack helps recreate the time period. Beginning in 1970, Linda Lovelace is (Amanda Seyfried) tanning and talking about her sex life (or more accurately the lack thereof) with her best friend Patsy (Juno Temple) in the backyard of her parents’ house. The Virgin Mary statue in the front yard serves as a symbol of her conservative upbringing and a nice contrast to what is about to unfold.

Linda is swept off her feet by an older man named Chuck Traynor (Peter Sarsgaard)—a topless bar owner who views Linda not only as girlfriend but a potential worker. The film skips ahead, something that happens quite frequently, to the two living together in New York, where Traynor’s abusive and manipulative side begins to show. One of the best scenes of the film is when Traynor decides to exploit her oral sex skills in an upcoming production of a pornography film aptly titled Deep Throat (which ends up being a massive box office hit). Linda’s naïve personality is put on display when a makeup artist discovers bruises on her legs that Linda passes off as just being clumsy—an obvious lie that fools nobody.

The closing credits inform us that Linda spent twenty years speaking out against domestic violence and the pornography industry—the film only captures the former while practically skipping the latter. Even though Lovelace does not glorify the porn industry, it does not exactly condemn it either. With all the attention on the domestic violence Linda endures, the adult-film industry is portrayed much tamer than one would think.

Inconsistency plagues the film more than anything else. While most of the scenes play out with so much exaggerated drama that it feels like it was made for the Lifetime Channel, others are chock-full of campy sex jokes that lighten the mood too much. This combination not only made the tone of the film unclear, but also much less effective when it attempts to have an emotional impact on the audience later on.

Despite setbacks in other areas of the film, the acting performances found in Lovelace are top notch; aside from the surprisingly unconvincing James Franco as Hugh Hefner. Amanda Seyfried takes on the daring role as wide-eyed innocent girl turned porn star in perfect stride. Peter Sarsgaard handles the duality required of the role flawlessly; going from charming in one scene to terrifying in the next. Even the smaller roles from Sharon Stone, Robert Patrick, and Bobby Cannavale are equally as good.

Lovelace is a story that is practically served on a silver platter considering it is a real-life story of an ordinary woman turned overnight adult-film star, who eventually speaks out against a brutal and abusive relationship with her manager and pornography industry, yet somehow this biopic manages to be both unexciting and unemotional. On top of that, Lovelace never ventures below the surface of the story that most people are vaguely familiar with already. Credit the cast for going well beyond the material they were given, without their performances the film would be a complete catastrophe.

Lovelace trailer:

It’s always felt like everyone’s been waiting for Woody Allen‘s legendary, ultra-prolific career to inevitably begin sputtering out. When he began really losing steam about a decade ago with duds like Curse of the Jade Scorpion and Melinda and Melinda, many speculated that his edge might be dulling for good. Then he knocked us in the head with the brilliant films like Match Point, Vicky Cristina Barcelona, and Midnight in Paris which proved he was still capable of creating significant cinema.

From another angle, the infrequency of great films in Allen’s late period has been a signal to many that his days as a vital director may be over sooner rather than later. Is Blue Jasmine—a bitter character study starring Cate Blanchett as Jasmine, a Ruth Madoff-like wreck of a woman—substantial enough to quell the fears of his loyal supporters and prove he’s got more left in the tank? The short answer is yes, it is. Blanchett’s unbounded performance should easily earn her an Oscar nod and directorially, Allen is in tip-top shape. And yet, Blue Jasmine falls short of greatness, mostly due to strangely written and casted supporting players and a script that slightly buckles under the weight of Blanchett’s juggernaut performance.

The film opens with Jasmine, a once wealthy New York aristocrat, sitting on a plane, rattling off incessantly about how she met her husband, Hal (Alec Baldwin) to a stranger who becomes less interested with every word. “He met me at a party and swept me off my feet.” They’ve just landed in San Francisco (which Allen photographs as if it were a ghost town), where Jasmine’s forced to stay with her working class sister, Ginger (Sally Hawkins), since she’s lost “every cent” of her own money—Hal’s orchestration of a failed Ponzi scheme landed him in the slammer, leaving Jasmine drowned in debt. She tries to veil her snobby disgust for her sister’s modest digs, and numbs herself to her surroundings by chugging vodka.

Watching Jasmine plummet from the glamour, Chanel bags, and Hamptons house parties of her previous life (depicted artfully in carefully planted flashbacks) to downing bottles of Stoli, snacking on Xanax, and sleeping on a crummy couch bed, is deliciously tragic and straddles the line between hilarious and depressing. Jasmine is unbelievably self-centered, perpetually complaining about everything, but mostly about the titanic tragedy that is her life, even when no one’s around to hear it (disturbing.) Whenever she’s confronted with a serious dilemma, she mentally checks out and starts reciting her go-to anecdotes from the “Hal” days like a broken record. She repeats the story with a blank stare, “He met me at a party and swept me off my feet.” Shudder. Extreme neurosis and anxiety are eating her alive (Gena Rowlands in A Woman Under the Influence comes to mind.) Jasmine’s mental breakdown is both utterly gripping and distressing to watch, like a 20 million dollar jet crashing and burning in slow motion.

The supporting cast is almost comically un-Californian, with Andrew Dice Clay as Hawkins’ bitter ex husband (“She’s movin’ in wit’ yoo?”), Louis C.K. as her frivolous fling (wasted), and Bobby Cannavale playing a lame version of Stanley Kowalski. Speaking of A Streetcar Named Desire (which inspired Allen to make this film), Blanchett channels the tragic romanticism of Blanche DuBois, who she played on-stage in 2009. She never gets too showy, though, and only goes big-time operatic when she knows the scene will be better for it.

Though Allen opted to not endow Blue Jasmine with his travelogue visual flare that I’ve grown fond of, Blanchett provides so much to chew on and gawk at that she single-handedly makes the film a certifiably significant work. The humor never falters and there’s enough of it to balance out Jasmine’s surprisingly dark character arc, but I’d hesitate to classify this as a comedy (as it’s been advertised.) I would, however, classify it as proof that Allen’s still got years of great films left in him.

Win Win is an indie drama from Thomas McCarthy whose third film proves he knows how to write genuine human behavior. Although there are some similarities between his other films, Win Win should appeal to a wider audience with this simple but sweet film about family.

Mike Flaherty (Paul Giamatti) is a high school wrestling coach for a losing team. He is a lawyer with his own practice but work is slow. He is so stressed out because of the lack of work he sometimes collapses while jogging. Needless to say, things are not looking up for him.

Looking to seize an opportunity at work he becomes a legal guardian for one of his clients named Leo (Burt Young), who has dementia in order to gain some extra income. While looking after Leo’s house, Mike finds Leo’s 16 year old grandson Kyle (Alex Shaffer), who randomly shows up at the home. He has never met his grandfather before but since he no longer gets along with his mother he had no choice but to flee.

Turns out that Kyle’s mother Cindy (Melanie Lynskey) is in drug rehab and never really provided a stable household for Kyle to live in. That might explain why Kyle is a foul mouthed chain-smoker at the age of 16. Although Kyle may seem like a punk on the outside, deep down he is a gentle soul.

Kyle comes to wrestling practice with Mike and asks if he could join. Mike asks him if he has ever wrestled before and Kyle causally says, “Yeah.” It turns out Kyle is fantastic at wrestling and is easily the best one on the team. Mike knows that Kyle is just what the team needs in order to turn their losing season around.

At his first match on the team, Kyle dominates his opponent with ease. His teammates are thankful to have the newcomer bring such success to the team. Kyle also bonds quickly with Mike’s family and soon becomes part of it. Even Mike’s wife, who was a little reluctant with the idea of Kyle at first, now thinks of Kyle as her own son.

With each match the team seems to be getting better and better now that they have Kyle. For the first time in a long time, things are looking up for Mike. Extra income from Leo and Kyle is vastly improving the wresting team’s record. Kyle is very happy to be wrestling again and has even quit smoking. Everything is swell until Kyle’s mother Cindy comes for him.

Cindy claims she came back to take care of Leo but made it obvious she just came back for his money. When she threatens to take Mike to court over it he comes up with a deal, saying he will take care of Leo for free and send her the monthly commission as long as she leaves Kyle alone. But Cindy now wants her son too, even if it is against his will.

Paul Giamatti is fantastic as always, playing the likeable but slightly flawed character of Mike, a family man who seizes opportunities when they arise. Amy Ryan is not on the screen as much as I would have liked, playing the role of a mother not at all like the one in Gone Baby Gone. This time she is a loving mother that thinks the world of her family and does it very convincingly.

Alex Shaffer was very natural playing the role of Kyle but after doing some research it is easy to understand why. At the age 17 Alex Shaffer won the New Jersey State Wrestling Championship in real life. He felt right at home when he shot for the legs and hop around the wrestling mat. There are only a couple of dialog scenes where you could tell he had never acted before.

Thomas McCarthy has used actor Bobby Cannavale in two of his films and in both he plays nearly the same character. The characters he plays are so socially desperate to be a part of someone else’s life because they are bored with their own. In The Station Agent that character was Joe, in Win Win it is Terry. Terry comes to Mike’s wrestling practice because he just wants to see this Kyle kid wrestle and perhaps trying to fill a void in his life from a recent divorce he had. He is excellent in both films providing comedic relief at the same time being the third wheel.

Win Win is the kind of film that will not blow you away, but is still enjoyable. It is well-acted and well told; even though the story is ultimately too safe which results in a warm family film that is worth watching once. However, compared to McCarthy’s The Station Agent this film was a bit of a let down.

This is a low-key movie about a lonely dwarf who’s only friend passed away, which he then moves to a new small town. His life has been full of constant ridicule and rude stares. It seems that the only thing he has interest in his life are trains. With his recent move (which is in an old train depot) comes new neighbors and opportunities.

The main character Finbar (Peter Dinklage) after shortly moving in, meets a man named Joe who runs a local roadside coffee trailer. One which doesn’t seem to get a lot of business. Joe is also a lonely soul and is very excited when Finbar arrives. Joe seems like he has all the time in the world on his hands and no one to spend it with, so he forces himself into a friendship with Finbar. Being the recluse that he is, Finbar is very put off about it at first. He seeks isolation and makes it obvious.

The Station Agent is a some what of a slow moving and quiet movie, which is not to say boring. In fact, it was incredibly entertaining the entire way through. Although most of the movie has sort of a depressing vibe to it, there is definitely some comedy in it. In more than one scene I found myself laughing aloud. The music albeit subtle, fits in perfectly. It was interesting to learn that the film was actually shot in just 20 days. The acting is absolutely spot on. It felt absolutely genuine. Actor Peter Dinklage is truly playing himself and you get a sense of hardship he has endured because he just seems natural in this role.

This indie flick is very solid, great acting, great story. Maybe a little slow moving and doesn’t have a satisfying ending for the mainstream watchers, but you would be foolish not to give this one a chance.