A whimsical throwback to old fashioned con movies like Trouble in Paradise and Charade, The Brothers Bloom is pretty freaking delightful. It’s the sophomore effort of writer/director Rian Johnson – whose debut film Brick melded neo-Noir dialogue and high school drama into one uniform, hyper-stylized alloy. The Brothers Bloom mixes modes in this way as well, but it draws on a broader catalogue of inspiration, and definitely goes for something way more boisterous and playful.

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There might not be a more dependable name in all of Hollywood than Pixar, and their tenth animated feature, Up, continues the studio’s remarkable hot streak.

As is usually the case, the premise is elegantly simple: in order to fulfill a promise to his dearly departed adventure-loving wife, senior citizen Carl Fredricksen (Ed Asner) flies to South America by hitching thousands of helium balloons to the house they built together. As silly as that may sound, director Pete Docter captures the audience’s heart right from the beginning, thanks to an opening ten minutes that encapsulate the happy, decades-long marriage Carl shared with his dear Ellie. Following the duo from their first meeting as children who idolized the same superstar adventurer, to their tragic inability to have children, to their final moments together, this sweet, nearly dialogue-free sequence stands as arguably the most poignant in Pixar history — right alongside WALL-E’s spacewalk, and Jessie’s abandonment in Toy Story 2. It’s a remarkably emotional way to start things off, but it sets the audience up for all the amazing things that follow precisely because you never question why Carl acts on his obsession.

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Leave it to Sam Raimi to breathe some new life into the genre most closely associated with lame sequels and lifeless remakes. But while Drag Me to Hell certainly exists within the well-defined confines of the horror genre, the truth is that it feels more like a shock-a-minute roller-coaster ride than your typical fright flick.

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In the apocalypse of words, the last thing you want to be is a radio DJ. The world collapses on an intimate scale in Pontypool, a hyper-linguistic thriller that’s expertly acted and refreshingly minimalist.

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Yojiro Takita’s Departures won the 2008 Oscar for Best Foreign Language Film, it was quite the underdog performance. First off, Departures upset the presumptive favorite, Israel’s Waltz with Bashir. But perhaps more surprising, given the rich history of Japanese cinema, it also became the country’s first victorious submission since the category opened to multiple entrants in 1956. (Foreign language achievement had previously been recognized only by honorary Oscars.) Akira Kurosawa brought home the Oscar in 1975 for Dersu Uzala, but not to Japan — the submitting country was the Soviet Union in that case. The film that finally broke through contains numerous Oscar-worthy themes — among them coping with death, estrangement from family, and spiritual renewal — all leavened by a perfectly toned humor that keeps the proceedings from becoming morose.

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With its savvy mix of kid-friendly special effects and parent-friendly comedy, Night at the Museum became a box office smash. Sadly, the uninspired sequel, Night at the Museum: Battle of the Smithsonian, manages to offer fewer joys on either of those fronts.

Ben Stiller returns as Larry Daley, who has left his night watchman gig at the Natural History Museum to become the CEO of a successful company that sells his quirky inventions, such as a glow-in-the-dark flashlight. On a return visit to the museum, he learns that most of the exhibits are being shipped to deep storage at the Smithsonian. This news disappoints his young son, but not until Larry gets an alarming call from miniature cowboy Jed (Owen Wilson) does he set off to help his old friends who are engaged in a battle with the ancient leader Kahmunrah (Hank Azaria) who – thanks to the magical tablet from the first movie – has sprung back to life with a thirst for world domination.

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The Wayans family cash in on another genre ripe for parody with Dance Flick, a dead-on-arrival stinker that gets it right comedy-wise one out of 30 miserable tries. If success were based on how many jokes are lobbed at the audience, this movie would be king of dummies. Like choreographed dance moves, Dance Flick’s wisecracks could be counted in three tired steps. First are the worn-out pop-culture references to both music (Britney Spears) and movies (Ray, since it’s so timely), then throw in some racial humor — mostly having to do with the ditzy white girl making her way through an urban school (much of which ends up being aimed directly at the baffled white teen audience). The third step usually has to do with a misunderstanding, resulting in a slapstick moment of violence that, if dragged out long enough, kisses up to a level of absurdity that almost renders it funny. But really, that’s giving Dance Flick too much credit.

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Director Bent Hamer’s O’Horten belongs to a unique and very special subgenre of European films that many U.S. viewers may have never even seen. Like the outings of Finnish cause-célèbre Aki Kaurismaki, or Russian director Boris Khlebnikov’s absurdist masterpiece Free Floating, this slice-of-life saga revels in the magic of the banal. As in those other films, everything here is so straight-faced, so understated, so minimalist, that more myopic audiences might not even be able to detect the comedy. But this deadpan quality also makes O’Horten immensely, infectiously likeable.

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