Movie Reviews: Amelia, Astro Boy, Saw VI

MOTHERHOOD Casting against type is one thing, but putting Uma Thurman — an unheralded character actress; the more extraordinary the character, the better — in the role of an unkempt New York City mom goes against the cinematic gods. And the gods are angry at Motherhood, writer/director Katherine Dieckmann’s ode to the trials of Manhattan’s downwardly mobile, breeding bourgeoisie. Thurman, in a scruffy brown wig and dingy housedress, has been cursed with a mannered “comic” performance and that funky, flutey elocution she uses when she’s trying to speak like a real person. Thurman plays Eliza, the mother of two young children, and wife of a hapless editor (Anthony Edwards). Together, they live the kind of shabby-groovy life — ruled by preschool pickups and parking shenanigans — familiar to half of Brooklyn. Dieckmann nails the look of a certain niche of urban neo–middle class living, but the film’s hyperearnest tone and reliance on “day-from-hell” New York clichés overwhelm those details. Eliza, formerly known for her “fiercely lyrical fiction,” wants to win a mommy blog contest because “nobody talks about this stuff.” Alas, the deadline for the contest looms as several major dramas unfold, including the organizing of a kiddie birthday party and Eliza’s swift, bloggy betrayal of a fellow mom’s confidence about using her son’s bath toy as a dildo. (Monica 4-Plex; Town Center 5; Playhouse 7) (Michelle Orange)

ONG BAK 2 You’re not always entirely sure what is happening in Tony Jaa’s new movie, but there certainly is a lot of it. In this in-name-only sequel, the martial-arts maven plays Tien, a scion avenging his family in a 15th-century Thailand marked by arcane hybrid fighting styles and a numbing sepia murkiness. Flying-fist connoisseurs may appreciate his journey from training with bandits to battling the warlords who killed his father, but the crossover fans tickled by Ong Bak’s spark and humor will be disappointed here. While Jaa clearly hasn’t lost any of his stamina in the six years since starring as a different underdog in the original, his first outing as a director is confusing, with distractingly muddy storytelling and wildly varying styles from scene to scene. Thrills do come from acrobatic antics with an alligator and on an obliging elephant; a kick fight conducted mostly on the ground; and an engaging assortment of pummeling in a multilevel thatched village. The movie would work better as a highlight reel. While the first Ong Bak replayed shots from a second angle, here the gimmick is replaying in slo-mo — which only calls attention to the film’s slog. (Sunset 5; Playhouse 7) (Nicolas Rapold)

SAW VI If you haven’t followed the series up until now, there’s not much point in trying to catch up with the agonized convolutions of the Saw saga’s plot line. Somebody tried to explain the plot of Saw III or IV to me once, and it took a half-hour — this film, presumably like its predecessors, is a bumblefuck involving a serial killer, Jigsaw (a thin-lipped Tobin Bell, now intoning from beyond the grave), who devises Fear Factor–/Pit andthe Pendulum–style deadly dilemmas for his victims. Taken just as an objet d’art, Saw VI — gray, grisly, solemn, stupid — would be about the most dismal thing I’ve ever laid eyes on, the argument against film preservation. But it vaults into the realm of real detestability through pretensions of relevance: having Jigsaw go after faddish bad guys such as usurers made to cut their own pound of flesh, and a team of insurance-company employees looking out for the bottom line. Yes, Saw VI, you’re a vehicle for positive social action. Suggested plot for the inevitable Saw VII: Jigsaw captures and tortures “artists” and studio execs who have money and access to a supple, potentially transcendent and ennobling medium but instead make a lot of Saw movies. (Citywide) (Nick Pinkerton)

STAN HELSING There is not a single frame of funny in Stan Helsing. A flaccid, excruciatingly tedious spoof of contemporary horror films that, according to press notes, was “written and directed by one of the guys who brought you Scary Movie” (said guy is Bo Zenga), SH traffics in wan sight gags, lethargic pacing and a plot that can be summed up as “and then some other lame shit happens. .” When quipping slacker video-store clerk of the title (Steve Howey) heads out for a night of Halloween partying with his best friend (Kenan Thompson), his ex-girlfriend and a stripper-turned–massage therapist, little does he know that before the night is over he will discover he is descended from a legendary monster hunter — which comes in handy, as he and his motley crew do battle with a who’s who of horror-flick baddies. What Zenga doesn’t half-ass recycle (oh, check out the wisecracking black folks talking shit to the video screen as white folks in a horror flick stumble into harm’s way), he simply fumbles. The generically attractive young cast gamely tries to pump life into the script, to no avail. Leslie Nielsen in waitress drag, however, looks like he’d rather be having a colonoscopy. (Mann Chinese 6) (Ernest Hardy)