Midweek Peep Show: More Than Just Robots

Turner Broadcasting System, Inc/Cartoon Network Studios

No, it's not Friday. But it is Transformers Tuesday, so I hereby abide by the studio system and bring you an early Peep. That said, it's time to party like you haven't had any emotional development since 1984!

Yep, I'm referring to Transformers, the latest wad of plastic from director Michael Bay. But there's also a tinge of the '80s to Robin Williams' grotesquely broad performance in License to Wed. Not so hot on nostalgia? Fear not, there are some charismatic, brown-haired screen studs that might just set off some fireworks. No, neither is named Shia LeBeouf.

Transformers
Here's my favorite line from this blockbuster-to-be: "The studios are so dependent on preexisting brands, they're not allowing anything new into the pipeline. They want to know what was the videogame or what was the comic book. It's shortsighted. But what's being missed is the next generation of new stuff. Because nostalgia is creative death."

Okay, so that's not from the movie. It's just another juicy bon mot from Transformers producer Tom DeSanto. Do you agree? If you've had the antipleasure of seeing Dukes of Hazzard, Miami Vice and Starsky & Hutch, you probably do. When nostalgia goes bad, it goes very bad, like raw meat left in the sun over Fourth of July weekend.

But you have to credit DeSanto for being smart enough to hone in on "creative" source material that's more akin to a cereal box than a TV series. Nonetheless, the resulting movie is too long, the plot is overly ambitious, and Michael Bay shows his total disinterest in captivating women by failing to deliver Ben Affleck or an Aerosmith ballad. I'll watch Armageddon and have a 1988-theme bash instead.

Warner Bros. Entertainment

License to Wed
This movie reminds me of why I hate shopping for a used car. The salesman tells you Ken Kwapis is directing. You immediately start a big debate in your head over which three episodes of The Office are his best. (I go with "Diversity Day," "Booze Cruise" and "Casino Night.") Now you're ready for a test drive. Then the car salesman grins and tells you that The Office's John Krasinski, one of the smartest, subtlest comical-yet-kissable brown-eyed actors is starring. You're like, Give me the damn keys, already! Then they tell you Mandy Moore is playing "the girl", which adds a little intrigue. Hey, it's fun to watch Mandy get shot after shot at leading lady status and flush it away.

But then, once you're behind the wheel and the car won't start, comes all the bad news. Robin Williams is playing a priest. Oh, so it's that kind of a movie, an '80s-ish crapfest farce on courtship. Oh, so his character is going to come between this couple and challenge their love. Suddenly, you can't breathe. You open the car door. You run from the lot, having decided you don't need a car after all.

Daniel Smith/Goalpost FilmLtd.

Introducing the Dwights
Shed a tear for Introducing the Dwights, a winsome Australian romantic comedy that goes by another title in its homeland: Clubland. It comes here, and the dummies at Warner Independent rechristen it Introducing the Dwights. Cringe, scratch head and sigh. Introducing the Dwights is a bad title, especially in the summertime. There are six syllables to get through. The first word is clunky. The third word is geeky. The second word is "the."

You must forget the title and believe me when I say that Clubland, a zippy word, is a far more accurate description of this boy-meets-girl-with-an-amusing-twist story. The boy, played by Khan Chittenden, has some very embarrassing parents, as in a loveable but cringe-inducing pair of washed-up entertainers. She (Brenda Blethyn) is a stand-up comedian. He (Frankie J. Holden) is a onetime one-hit wonder. And these folks are very possessive, to say the least, of their number one son. Don't believe the title; this isn't a stuffy introduction by any means. It's a party, and you should so go.

2007 Twentieth Century Fox Film Corp.

Joshua
Sam Rockwell has a face so naughty and pervy that oftentimes it feels like Hollywood doesn't know what to do with it. Personally, I enjoyed Welcome to Collinwood, in which Sam played a fairly incompetent thief in fairly tight pants. Much better than the in-your-face kookiness of Confessions of a Dangerous Mind. But never mind both of 'em, because Joshua brings us the most rocking Rockwell yet.

If you secretly suspect that 51.2 percent of children might be nutballs in hiding, this is your movie. Rockwell and Vera Farmiga (the shrink ho-bag from The Departed!) play uppity Manhattan parents. They have it all, but they also have a very bad little boy Joshua (Jacob Kogan). I don't want to ruin anything for you, but I'll just say that this is not—repeat, not—some feeble Omen ripoff or a melodrama like The Good Son. This is a deeply visual and evocative black comedy that happens to also make your skin crawl.