Humpday.  A sometimes clever but unsuccessful spin on the “bro-mance.”  Two heterosexual old friends reunite, one is recently married and on the baby track, the other is an artist “less Kerouac than he likes to think.”  They booze it up, hang with bohemian free-love, dope smoking cool cats and the staid friend becomes wistful for the free life.  Here it is – they agree (or challenge each other) to have sex on camera as part of a Seattle art project (“Humpday”). 

I know, I know.  And it is such a large hump to get over that the first 15 minutes are hard to endure.  But it gets better, especially as the dynamics are juiced by the utterly baffled wife.  Then, the last scene – the hotel room where they are to film their sex act – becomes interminable. 

A noble failure.

Up in the Air.  Critically acclaimed and rightfully so, Jason Reitman (Juno, Thank You for Smoking) adds to his impressive resume’.  George Clooney is so deft and smart he veers into Cary Grant territory, and when you are looking for sexual chemistry, the definition is Clooney and Vera Farmiga.  The message, about disconnectedness and love, is ready-made for debate over drinks after the movie, while the dialogue and the performances are uniformly crisp.

In a sea of asinine “I always get the bridesmaid dress, I’m a wacky misunderstood gal, hey, there’s my Romeo and whoda’ thunk I fall for such a Neanderthalic misogynist,” Up in the Air is a refreshing comedy about adults.  One other note, in what is becoming a hallmark of Reitman’s, there are 3 or 4 moments in the film where a lesser director or writer might have done something different and more obvious, and it would have been understandable, but Reitman does not and the film is much better for it.

Minor nits – the idea of outsourcing firings to a company specializing in same, including using them in face-to-face “we’re letting you go” encounters, seems contrived, and Anna Kendrick gets by with one too many facial tics (oh, that’s surprise!, of, that’s hurt!).

Funny People.  A Judd Apatow (Knocked Up, 40 Year Old Virgin) dramedy, I was surprised at how much I liked it given its length (almost 2 and a half hours) and a certain maxed-out sense with regard to “bro’ mances.”   But this one delivered both laughs (Adam Sandler plays a wildly successful comic, dying and friendless, who takes on Seth Rogen, a nobody comic, as a personal assistant to help him through the medical ordeal) and a bit more, reminding me of James L. Brooks, in that Apatow delivers a story that is universal while using Sandler’s job and surroundings for texture, ala’ Broadcast News.  Better, as Sandler showed in Punch Drunk Love, he can be a good actor.  Finally, there is a scene with Sandler, Rogen and Sandler’s German doctor (no physical comedy) that is a worthy entry to funniest scenes of all time.

Adventureland.  I had counted on being a worthy addition to the Knocked Up, Forgetting Sarah Marshall oeuvre, which would have been fine.  But instead, the film is more Dazed and Confused meets Tadpole (with a little Say Anything thrown in) with a deliberate pace, a keen sense of time (late 80s nod to The Replacements on the soundtrack), and a sweet love story taking the place of bro-mances, snappy male rejoinders and broad physical comedy.  It’s a very leisurely picture and an especially affecting performance by Jesse Eisenberg as the college grad consigned to working his local amusement park the summer before grad school.  Downside – Kristin Stewart as the love interest.  This limited actress who made her bones in the Twilight saga is charmless.

A good old fashioned heart-tugging, crowd-pleasing weepy, and Sandra Bullock’s brassy performance is perfect for the material.  The actor who plays “Big Mike” has a devastating mixture of nobility and tenderness and there are some very funny lines (Bullock’s husband – “Who would’ve thought we’d have a black son before we met a Democrat?”).

I was teed up to hate this picture, given how juvenile and overpraised Quentin Tarantino’s last offerings were (the Kill Bills, and the truly execrable double feature, drive-in homage).  Those movies were the toasts of critics yet belied all of his worst qualities – excess, self-regard and juvenilia.

But Tarantino returns to his sweet spot here, with crackling dialogue, edgy and beautifully crafted set pieces, and a brisk pacing, comic but not immature. It’s a clever and exciting popcorn film, anchored by the actor who plays the primary Nazi baddie (Christoph Walz) with such relish, you near root for him.

Great fun, and yet, highly intricate and accomplished.  The shootout scene in the French cafe’ basement is one of the most tense and exciting I’ve ever scene on film.  A worthy Best Picture nominee.