Review of "Jane Eyre"

She is fragile, strong, anxious, angry, brave, broken, driven near mad, but never — you see it in her eyes, across her face — beaten.

She is "Jane Eyre," a character brought to film countless times, read in books, thousands, millions more.

Yet it's doubtful anyone has ever quite breathed the life into this abused orphan and damaged romantic that Mia Wasikowska has at the ripe old and completely appropriate age of 21.

Who? Mia Wasikowska.

Pronounce it "VAH-shee-KOF-ska." She's Australian by birth and appeared in two films last year. One was the best picture Oscar-nominated "The Kids Are All Right" (she was one of the two kids); the other was "Alice in Wonderland." She played Alice. The film earned more than a $1 billion.

VAH-shee-KOF-ska. Remember it.

Because with "Jane Eyre," the potential apparent in those earlier films reveals itself as a full-blown, wondrous thing.

Wasikowska has a face that can go from plain to dazzling in an instant; it can bring to life a complex range of reactions and then land on just the right one. She is beautiful and average and all things in between when she needs to be, and beyond that filled with both raw emotion and powerful sophistication.

In other words, this is one heck of a young actress. She doesn't play Jane Eyre. She makes Jane Eyre her own.

Not that this new production is filled with flash. Director Cary Fukunaga, working with a screenplay adaptation of Charlotte Bronte's novel by Moira Buffini, is certainly dealing with a classic look and sticking to the story.

But unlike other directors, he neither broods over the tale's nightmarish qualities or gushes with romantic foppery. He lays it out as it is, relying on Wasikowska to carry the day. Good move.

The orphaned Jane is sent off to a boarding school by a cruel aunt (Sally Hawkins). There, she is kept under strict rule until she is old enough to work as a governess.

Then off she's sent to Thornfield Hall, to teach the young charge of the mysterious Mr. Rochester (Michael Fassbender), a mercurial sort who is both taken aback and intrigued by the striking honesty and plain beauty of his new employee. Jane and Rochester begin a bantering relationship, even though it can seemingly go nowhere.

Love eventually blossoms in its repressed, clumsy British way, only to be trampled by a near-literal ghost-in-the-attic. Jane, led astray, runs off across the foggy moors in search of either death or a new life.

She finds the latter with the help of an altruistic young preacher (Jamie Bell) and his two sisters. But even as good fortune mounts for her, she cannot forget Rochester.

The usual issues are raised by this production — the limits of propriety, the boundaries of love, the false distinctions of class and the illusion of comfort.

But somehow Wasikowska makes it all seem much more personal, more real. With her stark, starched dresses and blunt, elastic face, she draws you in, making both Jane's pain and incredible resolve tangible.

She doesn't make the old new again; she makes it good again, far better than you'd imagine.

There's unexpected fire in this "Jane Eyre." One can only imagine — and look forward to — what heat Wasikowska will bring elsewhere.

Review of "Sucker Punch"

Watching attractive young ladies dressed in skimpy outfits fighting orcs and dragons and zombies can be fun. For a while.

Director-writer Zack Snyder stretches "a while" way too long in his elaborate love kiss to geek fan boys, "Sucker Punch."

One such ridiculous action scene is impressive, if puzzling; two such scenes make for overkill while still offering little sense; and from there on the effect becomes both numbing and maddening.

"Sucker Punch" is the story of Babydoll (Lolita-esque Emily Browning), a young thing tossed in an insane asylum and awaiting a lobotomy. But wait! Maybe instead it's a house of prostitution? Or is that all in her head?

No matter what, when Baby Doll does an apparently wildly erotic dance (which the audience never sees), she transfixes those around her, while simultaneously traveling off to wild battle scenes — usually with her gang of foxy fellow inmates (Abbie Cornish as Sweet Pea, Jena Malone as Rocket, Vanessa Hudgens as Blondie and Jamie Chung as Amber).

All of these women are super-powered Kung Fu-fighting killing machines. Or maybe that's just in their heads. No matter what, it makes for much mayhem.

Too much mayhem as the story basically becomes an excuse for high-gloss carnage. And yet all this energy is undercut by the fact that in reality — whatever that is — it's clear that none of this is happening.

In the end, the entire film is a tedious sexual tease of eye candy and slo-mo fight choreography, which is likely what Snyder — "300," "Watchmen" — intended.

If the goal was sensory overload and audience stupefaction, he has succeeded indeed. Snyder apparently is offering lobotomies to all. Step right up.

Here we go again

Apparently Wayne State University hasn't had enough of me so I will again be teaching a course in "Popular Criticism" this Spring semester. It will run 9 a.m.-noon, Mondays and Wednesdays, beginning May 9 and lasting until June 22. It will be part of the Honors College curriculum.

As before, students will be discussing the concept of popular criticism, studying popular critics and writing their own reviews of television shows, music, movies, novels, stand-up comics and more. Also required will be a final paper discussing what a current trend in popular culture says about the world around us.

There's a lot of material involved and a lot of writing. But it's also a lot of fun, if you're into that kind of thing.

Review of "Limitless"

'Limitless" is limited, but intriguing nonetheless.

Much of this has to do with director Neil Burger ("The Illusionist"), who brings a kooky edge to the story. The rest has to do with star Bradley Cooper ("The Hangover," "The A-Team") proving he actually might be more than just another pretty face.

Cooper plays Eddie Morra, a would-be writer who's been going nowhere for quite some time. As we meet Eddie he's scraggly and run-down looking, which only goes to show that Bradley Cooper is still killer good-looking even when he's scraggly and run-down.

Early on, Eddie runs into his ex-brother-in-law, a sleazoid type who has just the thing for Eddie: A special pill that will allow him to use all the brain power at his disposal, as opposed to the sliver of gray matter humans use on a regular basis.

Suddenly Eddie's finishing a novel in a couple of days, and it's brilliant. Scoring a few more pills, he realizes he can make a fortune in the financial world. Unfortunately, he needs some start-up money, so he turns to a loan shark (Andrew Howard). Then, when he's scored big, he starts working with a major mogul (Robert De Niro).

Meanwhile, Eddie's dealer runs into some trouble of the dead kind and Eddie makes off with his stash.

His addiction grows; his success grows; his stash keeps shrinking.

Eventually, his associates want a part of it. Eddie may be on top, but the bottom seems to be beckoning.

It's a straightforward tension Burger is dealing with, working from Leslie Dixon's adaptation of Alan Glynn's novel, but he keeps throwing in little kinks to keep things interesting.

And, at its heart, the film keeps asking: Would you do it? Who could pass it up? Is this the devil in disguise or heaven opening up?

You choose.

Review of "Paul"

Aliens: They're either out to take over the planet or they're cute as all get out.

"Paul" is an alien of the cute variety, spiked with a number of unsavory and rude but thoroughly enjoyable habits. After he miraculously brings a bird back to life he promptly stuffs it in his mouth and eats it. He tends to moon people. He enjoys cursing. And he sounds a lot like Seth Rogen.

That's because "Paul" is voiced by Seth Rogen, and Rogen's groggy expertise with voiceovers is about all that makes you buy the cheap-rubber-suit look of "Paul." The whole thing is so silly it doesn't matter if it's realistic. The same can be said of the entire movie.

"Paul" stars Simon Pegg and Nick Frost, the amiably mismatched Brits who sent up zombie movies in the brilliant "Shaun of the Dead" and then sent up cop movies in the not-quite-brilliant but still pretty funny "Hot Fuzz."

This time around the duo are sharing writing credits — "Superbad" director Greg Mottola directs — while sending up movies about extraterrestrials. The results are, again, not-quite-brilliant but funny enough. Pegg and Frost play Graeme and Clive, two British nerds who decide to tour the U.S in an RV, looking at famous sites of supposed alien landings.

Wouldn't you know they pick up an actual alien along the way? That would be "Paul," who has escaped a government facility after 60 years. He wants to go home; so bingo, you've got an instant alien-nerds road-trip movie.

Throw in a very funny Kristen Wiig as a Christian fundamentalist who suddenly sees the other light and you've got gags-a-plenty. Too many, in fact, as the film runs about half an hour too long.

Apparently silly aliens aren't much for self-editing. But they are good for a laugh, and so is "Paul."

Review of "Kaboom"

"Kaboom" is one of those films with a wildly complex plot that's over-ridden by wholly irrelevant sex scenes.

Most films like this turn out to be pretty flimsy and ultimately disappointing. Count "Kaboom" in that number. Maybe its incompetence and absurdity are supposed to evoke laughter. They don't.

Writer-director Greg Araki has a history of getting talented young people to perform in his "experiments."

In 2004's "Mysterious Skin," he used (abused) Joseph Gordon-Levitt and Michelle Trachtenberg. Here he's got the promising trio of Thomas Dekker ("Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles"), Haley Bennett ("Music and Lyrics") and Juno Temple ("Notes on a Scandal," "Atonement"). All have done and will do better work.

Dekker plays bi-sexual college frosh Smith, best friend to Bennett's acerbic lesbian-in-learning Stella, and sometime playmate with Temple's sexual dynamo, London.

You know something's weird when Stella has an affair with a witch early on; it's for sure weird when a bunch of guys wearing masks murder a lovely redhead in front of Smith one night.

What's going on? Who cares? Seriously, Araki mostly concentrates on the trade-partners sex scenes and too-clever dialogue for most of the movie.

But eventually it turns out there's a huge underground cult quietly controlling the world, and they're about to blow it up. Luckily/unluckily for Smith and London, they unknowingly have ties to this cult.

Araki waits until a final car chase scene to explain — and explain — what all this means, shoving two hours of bad plot into five minutes of bad exposition, then the movie ends.

You'll be glad. That it's ended, that is. Not that you watched it.

Review of "Lord of the Dance in 3D"

Happy St. Patrick's Day. Don't go see "Lord of the Dance in 3D."

First off, the 3-D is terrible, absolutely the worst. Somehow it actually manages to make the production look one-dimensional, especially when the camera pulls back to capture the full width of the stage.

Beyond that the entire proceedings are dark and fuzzy. In truth, the only time you notice the "3-D" is when occasional cheesy animated designs shoot out. The rest of the time it just looks like a really poorly made film.

There's one other major problem, though. The dancing is so repetitious, it's headache inducing.

Realize this opinion comes from a guy who's so full-blooded Irish he bears a shamrock tattooed on one arm and a Celtic braid done in Dublin on the other.

But after watching star Michael Flatley dance the same essential steps for an hour, my reaction was: Really? That's all we've got?

Centuries of culture and all we've come up with is some tap-dance-jig stuff?

True, there's a story of sorts going on here. Some of the tap-dancing-jig folks are dressed in Gestapo black, others are in white. The Gestapo guys break the flute of some fairy dancer.

Then the white-dressed Mr. Flatley comes out and does tap-jig battle with the main Gestapo guy, and guess what? Good triumphs over evil.

Again: Really? That's all we've got?

All the repetitious dancing is accompanied by rock concert-type lighting and there's an elaborate stage set. This is probably quite stunning live. In awful 3-D it's not.

Every once in a while a couple of hot blonde female types break things up by having an electric violin fiddle-off. But then the fiddle-offs become repetitious as well.

Obviously there are many fans of this stuff, "Lord of the Dance" having played approximately two billion sold-out shows. But even fans are going to find the 3-D hard to fathom.

Meanwhile, non-fans are sure to be asking, when is that guy going to stop slamming his feet on the floor? And: Where's the Guinness?