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AMERICAN GANGSTER American Gangster is yet one more tale about a confident crime figure who rises to the top before taking that inevitable plunge down the elevator shaft. Yet for all its familiar trappings, director Ridley Scott and writer Steven Zaillian invest their tale with plenty of verve, even if they frequently soft-pedal the deeds of their real-life protagonist. Denzel Washington, perhaps our most charismatic actor, has been charged with bringing Frank Lucas to the screen, and, as expected, he turns the Harlem kingpin into a magnetic menace, a self-starter who becomes a millionaire by eliminating the middle man in the drug trade. American Gangster could easily have been called American Capitalist or American Dreamcatcher – it's a Horatio Alger tale shot up with heroin – but perhaps sensing that Lucas' fine qualities might likely overshadow the fact that he's selling death to his own people (only one sequence hammers home the horrors brought about by Lucas' exploits), Scott and Zaillian offer up a standard movie hero in Richie Roberts (Russell Crowe), the honest cop tasked with busting open the New York/Jersey drug racket. Roberts could have come across as a cardboard saint, but thanks to Crowe's deft underplaying, he's an interesting figure and strikes a nice counterbalance to the more dynamic Frank Lucas. American Gangster is long but not overlong – its 160 minutes are well spent – and while it never achieves the epic grandeur of, say, The Godfather (for one thing, the real-life denouement prohibits any Scarface-style theatrics), it manages to pump a measure of respect back into a genre that thrives on it. ***

BEE MOVIE The best thing about Bee Movie isn't even in the film. It's the jar of Ray Liotta Honey sent to members of the media, and there's something so surreal, so absurd, about seeing the GoodFella's mug on a food product that it tickled the fancy with promises of an animated feature that would follow suit. Unfortunately, Bee Movie is the same nondescript toon tale we've pretty much come to expect from any animated outlet not named Pixar. In this one, it's Jerry Seinfeld contributing the vocals to the central character, a bee (named Barry) who leaves the hive to explore the world outside. He finds a New York City full of sound and fury, but also one that contains a sweet florist named Vanessa (Renee Zellweger). Breaking the long-standing rule that bees must never talk to humans, Barry makes contact with Vanessa, and the two strike up an unorthodox friendship. But Barry freaks out once he spots the rows of honey lining supermarket shelves: The bees work hard to make that honey, and, feeling that his kind are being exploited, he ends up suing humankind. The appearance by Liotta (or, rather, his toon rendition) is a high point, certainly more clever than the cameos by Sting and the tiresome Larry King. In fact, Liotta outshines just about everyone, including dull Matthew Broderick as Barry's best friend. And while most animated features, even the bad ones, champion individuality, this flies in the opposite direction by rallying around the notions of conformity and subservience. Surely that's not what the filmmakers intended, but regardless, it kills the good buzz that the movie manages to generate in spurts. **

DAN IN REAL LIFE One look at the coming attraction preview for Dan In Real Life reveals that here's a movie that's going to try to milk audience emotions for all they're worth. You'll laugh! You'll cry! You'll sing! You'll reflect! You'll hug the moviegoer sitting next to you, even if he smells like an NFL wide receiver's socks after a particularly grueling Sunday match-up! The trailer doesn't lie: Dan In Real Life wants to offer it all – a fine sentiment when a movie can pull it off, an example of trying too hard when it doesn't. This one falls somewhere in the middle: There are individual scenes that work nicely, even if the finished product doesn't produce the flood of emotions one might have reasonably expected. Writer-director Peter Hedges soft-pedals this material, offering a warm and fuzzy tale of a popular newspaper writer (Steve Carell) whose column, "Dan In Real Life," offers practical advice that he can't seem to apply to his own life. A widower with three daughters, Dan travels to Rhode Island for the annual family get-together; he falls for Marie (Juliette Binoche), a Frenchwoman he meets in a book store, only to learn that she's the girlfriend of his brother Mitch (Dane Cook). It's nice to see this normal a family on screen, but the movie pays a price for its politeness, since there's never any sense that feelings might be hurt or egos bruised – this is especially true at the conclusion, which basically ignores conflicts that have already been established in order to send everyone home smiling. Dan In Real Life is the equivalent of a warm glass of milk, and that's meant neither as a compliment nor a criticism, merely a stated fact. **1/2

THE DARJEELING LIMITED Wes Anderson is the type of filmmaker who stirs love-him-or-leave-him vibes in audience members, which makes my own ambivalence toward him slightly perplexing: I've mildly enjoyed all of his films to date, yet I've never detected that spark of genius that his fans (and many critics) insist he possesses. Anderson's movies are too slight to earn such hefty acclaim, and were they not peopled with strong actors who can punch across his sweet-and-sour declarations (most memorably Gene Hackman in The Royal Tenenbaums), they would blow off the screen with the ease of a dandelion caught in a summer breeze. The Darjeeling Limited is Anderson's most wispish work to date, a road movie in which the road is made of railroad tracks. Carrying over the thematic baggage of most of his previous efforts, this one also concerns itself with familiar discord – here, Francis (Owen Wilson) invites his younger brothers Peter (Adrien Brody) and Jack (Jason Schwartzman) to India to join him on a spiritual quest. They travel mainly aboard the train The Darjeeling Limited, attempting to communicate (but often just miscommunicating) with each other as they reflect on their relationships with loved ones as well as with each other. Anderson regular Bill Murray pops up at the very beginning, and his shaggy-dog appearance sets the tone for the remainder of the picture. This is a mixed bag of a movie, with some exquisite camera shots and clever exchanges not quite enough to overtake the tale's slenderness or the limitations of the lead characters. But it still offers enough modest charms to earn it a mild recommendation. **1/2

FRED CLAUS Does cynicism have a place in Yuletide flicks? Judging by the abysmal likes of Deck the Halls and Christmas With the Kranks, the answer is no. But sometimes a little spice can enhance a seasonal dish, and this joins Bad Santa and Scrooged as a way to avoid the pure sugar rush of treacle like The Santa Clause. A prologue establishes that Fred Claus grew up resenting the attention showered upon his younger brother Nicholas, who in time became known the world over as Santa Claus. Cut to the present day, and the adult Fred (Vince Vaughn), who has long broken off all family ties, is coerced into coming to the North Pole to help Santa (Paul Giamatti) with his annual gift-giving. But Fred's presence prevents the operation from running smoothly, a problem since a dour efficiency expert (Kevin Spacey) is hoping for any excuse to fire Santa and move Xmas HQ to the South Pole. There are plenty of cringe-worthy moments in this overlong film, including the ill-conceived decision to cast normal-sized performers in the largest of the elf roles via digital wizardry (a slap to Peter Dinklage, Tony Cox and other accomplished dwarf actors). But Vaughn and Giamatti make a fine "odd couple" pairing, a stellar supporting cast (Spacey, Rachel Weisz, Kathy Bates, Miranda Richardson) lifts the proceedings, and Fogelman and director David Dobkin (Wedding Crashers) do manage to find the right mix of sweet and sour. To top it off, there's a priceless sequence set at a Siblings Anonymous meeting which Fred attends; I won't reveal the surprise cameos, but the personalities involved deserve some sort of Good Sport award at next year's Oscars. **1/2

GONE BABY GONE Ben Affleck makes his directorial debut with Gone Baby Gone, and by playing it close to the vest, he turns out a compelling drama that's deeply absorbing and constantly surprising. A better movie than Clint Eastwood's marginally overrated Mystic River, Gone Baby Gone sports a connection to that film since both were adapted from novels by Dennis Lehane. Here, a little girl is snatched from her home in a working-class Boston neighborhood, and the family hires two private investigators (Casey Affleck and Michelle Monaghan) to track down the missing moppet. Working in uneasy unison with a couple of detectives (Ed Harris and John Ashton), sometimes without the knowledge of the cops' superior officer (Morgan Freeman), the pair follow the trail of clues wherever it leads, which is usually straight into an underworld populated by thuggish crime lords and coke-addled pedophiles. Aided by a stellar cast that showcases superlative turns by Ben's brother Casey, Harris and Amy Ryan as the child's trashy mom, Affleck (who also co-scripted with Aaron Stockard) has crafted a forceful crime flick that's made even more irresistible by way of a moral ambivalence that's extremely rare in modern dramas. It's this stance that propels the film through its knockout finale, since a sequence about two-thirds through the picture erroneously leads us to believe that the film is winding down with a disappointingly conventional ending. But it's a mere ruse, since it clears the way for more surprises that in turn build toward a devastating conclusion guaranteed to remain in the mind for days, weeks, maybe even months. ***1/2

LARS AND THE REAL GIRL How is it even possible to make a PG-13 movie about a man and his plastic sex doll? To their (sort-of) credit, director Craig Gillespie and writer Nancy Oliver give it a shot by fashioning a gentle parable about an introvert whose relationship with said object is actually a cry for help – plus, it doesn't hurt audience acceptance of the film (and the character) that he never uses the faux-female for what she was intended. In a performance that's as calculating as it is sweet-natured, Ryan Gosling plays Lars, a shy man who cringes at the mere thought of interacting with other humans, whether at the office, at parties, or even in the home of his brother (Paul Schneider) and sister-in-law (Emily Mortimer). Lars ends up purchasing a sex doll online, but rather than using her to satisfy God-given urges, he maintains a platonic relationship, escorting her all over town and introducing her to bewildered townsfolk as his Brazilian girlfriend Bianca. Rather than shunning Lars, his family and neighbors go along with the delusion, coaxing him (and Bianca!) into becoming more involved with the community even as a psychiatrist (Patricia Clarkson) attempts to uncover the source of his behavior. An often clumsy fable about the sting of loneliness and the welcome balm of selfless intervention, Lars and the Real Girl can't quite manage a gimmick that's well-suited for a short film but thin when stretched out over 105 minutes. The supporting cast is fine, especially Schneider and Mortimer as Lars' perplexed family members and Kelli Garner as a co-worker who could use some of that love and affection that Lars bestows on Bianca. **1/2

LIONS FOR LAMBS Say this for Hollywood: At least it's trying to inject some semblance of sane debate into the Iraq War debacle. While the right-wing continues to think nothing about American soldiers being sent to Iraq to "get their heads blown off for the president's amusement" (as Rep. Pete Stark accurately stated a few weeks ago before cowardly issuing an apology), filmmakers from the more sentient left are trying to wake the populace up to the evils of this insidious administration and add value to every life lost in this rich man's war. But do their recruitment tools have to be so ineffectual? On the heels of Rendition comes Lions For Lambs, another drama whose noble aspirations are bungled by hamfisted storytelling. Working from a script by Matthew Michael Carnahan, director Robert Redford uses three concurrent tales to stir debate about what's happening around us. The best finds a reporter (Meryl Streep) interviewing a Republican senator (Tom Cruise) on his strategy for winning the war on terror. In the second plot thread, which functions as little more than connective tissue between the other two tales, two soldiers (Michael Pena and Derek Luke) involved in the senator's master plan find themselves stranded on a snowy mountaintop in Afghanistan with enemy combatants closing in fast. And in the third story arc, college professor Stephen Malley (Redford) urges a self-absorbed student (Andrew Garfield) to get off his complacent behind and take a stand on major issues. This part is too bald-faced and heavy-handed to be effective; Redford would have had more luck personally distributing get-out-the-vote pamphlets at movie theaters nationwide. **

MARTIAN CHILD The credits state that Martian Child stars John Cusack, Amanda Peet and Joan Cusack, but really, it stars Lucky Charms, M&M's and Amazon.com. These are the top winners of the product placement contest – at least E.T. The Extra-Terrestrial employed Reese's Pieces in an innovative manner that benefited its storyline. But Martian Child is no E.T., despite a plot that involves a being from another planet who just wants to go home. Or is Dennis (Bobby Coleman) merely an ordinary boy who only thinks he's from another planet? Only God (or L. Ron Hubbard) knows for sure. At any rate, this is most like K-Pax, the atrocious 2001 release with Kevin Spacey as a mental patient who claims he's from outer space. This isn't nearly as noxious as that Chinese-water-torture of a movie, but that's largely because few things are as frightening as watching Spacey attempt to be cuddly. Coleman's Dennis eventually finds himself adopted by David Gordon (Cusack), a widower who senses he and the boy might make a good match. Director Menno Meyjes ladles on the glop in this wannabe tearjerker, but the movie fails to connect precisely because Dennis never appears to be a real boy, human or otherwise: He's merely a writer's high-concept execution, a series of quirky traits that have coagulated to take on human form. Cusack is likable as always, and he's especially engaging in his scenes opposite Amanda Peet (as his late wife's best friend); viewers may find themselves wishing the pair had more scenes together. Of course, when the best parts of a movie called Martian Child are those that don't involve the Martian child, then something's definitely askew. **

OPENS WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 21:

AUGUST RUSH: Freddie Highmore, Keri Russell.

BEFORE THE DEVIL KNOWS YOU'RE DEAD: Philip Seymour Hoffman, Ethan Hawke.

ENCHANTED: Amy Adams, James Marsden.

HITMAN: Timothy Olyphant, Dougray Scott

I'M NOT THERE: Christian Bale, Heath Ledger.

THE MIST: Thomas Jane, Laurie Holden.

NO COUNTRY FOR OLD MEN: Tommy Lee Jones, Javier Bardem.

THIS CHRISTMAS: Regina King, Loretta Devine.