Film

On Screen

This Week's New Releases

Opens Fri Nov 14.
Stephen Glass, as we all undoubtedly remember, was a liar and a fraud. A fast-rising writer and editor for the New Republic (as well as a contributor to Harper's and the New York Times, among other publications), Glass scandalized the journalism world in 1998 when it was unearthed that an article he penned for his employer, titled "Hack Heaven," not only distorted facts but was an outright fabrication: Creating fictional characters, businesses, and events, Glass spun an entertaining tale about a teenage hacker that was eventually exposed as complete fiction by another journalist (working, entertainingly, for an online publication).

Shattered Glass (which, yes, is a terrible title), directed by first-time helmer Billy Ray, chronicles Glass' exposure and tumble, offering as its lead Hayden Christensen, previously seen as Anakin Skywalker in Star Wars Episode II: Attack of the Clones. Don't let this bit of casting deter you from seeing the film, however, for if Shattered Glass proves anything it's that George Lucas is supremely untalented when it comes to directing actors. Christensen burrows himself beneath Stephen Glass' tics and charms, and the result is a smart, noteworthy performance; creating a character both endearing and repellent at the same time, he manages to shed the blunder that was his previous performance and emerges, somehow, as a talented actor.

As good as Christensen is, however, two other men steal the show: Peter Sarsgaard as Chuck Lane, the editor who eventually fired Glass, and Hank Azaria as the New Republic's previous editor Michael Kelly. Both actors are in top form in the film, delivering two smart men who were wounded and tarnished, somewhat, by betrayal. Sarsgaard is especially good, portraying Lane as overwhelmed and painfully betrayed by the entire ordeal. His posture slowly moving toward a slouch as the investigation into Glass' piece gains momentum, Sarsgaard's Lane finds himself in the unfortunate position of being the stand-in for the entire injured institution of journalism, a world that found itself hornswoggled by Glass not just because of mistakes, but because of the institution's arrogance.

Surprisingly, all involved managed to survive with careers mostly intact after the Glass affair (even Glass himself went on to pen a heavily panned novel, called The Fabulist), but the damage--especially for the magazine he worked for--had definitely been done, and Shattered Glass, despite some minor flaws, shows us in an intelligent fashion how this damage came about. Early on in the film, Stephen Glass calls the New Republic the "in-flight magazine of Air Force One." Because of him, the magazine almost landed in coach. BRADLEY STEINBACHER

Tupac: Resurrection

dir. Lauren Lazin

Opens Fri Nov 14.
Please don't shoot me for saying this, but I really never cared for Tupac as a rapper. He made no real contribution to the form itself, and outside of a few rather maudlin songs about his mother, or being a complex thug, he had nothing in the way of a developed worldview in the manner of, say, Rakim, or Chuck D, or Ice Cube. The success of the documentary Tupac: Resurrection, which attempts to do nothing less than produce a saint from MTV videos, news reports, and intimate interviews, is that it focuses less on his music and more on his actual life--his childhood in New York, his teens in Baltimore, his early 20s in the Bay Area, and, finally, the transformation of this ordinary life into a pop life.

Narrated by Tupac himself, as if from the grave ("I always knew I was gonna be shot"), the most important revelation the documentary has to offer is that Tupac was not a thug to begin with, but something of a geek who took ballet lessons, read Shakespeare, and wrote poetry in notebooks. His troubles with the law, which didn't begin until he was famous, were not a consequence of his upbringing but an invented gangster personality that the police mistook for the real thing. Ultimately, it did become the real thing, because Tupac died a real death in the most unreal city of the world. CHARLES MUDEDE

Looney Tunes: Back in Action

dir. Joe Dante

Opens Fri Nov 14.
It'd make perfect sense that I'd like this movie. I grew up watching Warner Bros. cartoons every Saturday morning (the Road Runner was my favorite). Because of my Looney Tunes admiration, my family even started calling me "Toons" (a nickname I have, unfortunately, yet to shed). So keeping those facts in mind, my next statement should really pack a punch: Looney Tunes: Back in Action is dumb. Boring, even. Yes, there are a few funny moments, and your eight-year-old niece will probably love it, but despite the couple of chuckles, it really has nothing to offer anyone with a brain who's over 10 years old. Maybe that's the point, though.

When done well, the whole "real-life person working with cartoons" business can actually be pretty funny. When Who Framed Roger Rabbit came out almost a decade and a half ago, I remember what a stink everyone made over the "amazing" special effects. Back then it was totally cool, but Looney Tunes: Back in Action doesn't do anything Roger Rabbit didn't do way back in the day. My point? Since the movie is all, like, pretty unfunny, and since it isn't bringing anything new to the whole "cartoons mixed with real actors" thing (assuming you'd consider Brendan Fraser a "real actor"), it really seems kind of forced, like Warner Bros. is trying to prove that it's still got it.

I hate to say it, but as far as animated movies go this year, Pixar has totally schooled Warner Bros. MEGAN SELING