This weekend's movies

Now that I don't get paid to see movies anymore, I have a feeling I won't be seeing nearly as many. I'll probably go from 12 to 15 a month to, like, 2. Maybe.

But that doesn't mean I won't still have opinions on them. Here's this week's bunch, with snarky comments:

• Akeelah and the Bee: I do want to see this one because (1) I'm a sucker for underdog stories, and (2) I want to see if Laurence Fishburne and Angela Bassett can make it through an entire movie without whaling on each other.
• R.V.: Robin Williams needs to go away. Now. No, really. I'm serious. Unless he does more like this.
• Stick It: It's from the writer of "Bring It On," so it may be worth a rental. Jeff Bridges is always interesting, at least.
• United 93: I definitely want to see this, though I dread it equally. The trailers alone were enough to get my throat tight. Writer/director Paul Greengrass has a superb record, and early reviews are promising. Interesting note: Amarillo native Tara Hugo, daughter of jazz clarinetist Hugo Loewenstern, plays passenger Kristin White Gould.

With 'Friends' Like These ... I'd Take The Money

And here's my "Friends with Money" review, also mysteriously absent today.

Writer/director Nicole Holofcener knows women inside out. Moreover, she knows how to write women.

Holofcener’s films “Walking and Talking” and “Lovely and Amazing” are intricate character studies of women and their relationships with friends, families and lovers. Her latest, “Friends with Money,” follows in their footsteps.

The best thing about Holofcener’s women is how realistic they are. At times, it feels as if we’re voyeurs, watching the lives of our neighbors (albeit, in this case, our extraordinarily wealthy neighbors) unfold before our eyes.

“Friends” concerns itself with four women and their romantic partners.

Frances McDormand is Jane, a 40-plus-year-old woman who’s so convinced that her best days have passed her by that she can’t even be bothered to wash her hair. Her friends speculate that she’s so angry because her husband, Aaron (Simon McBurney), is gay. He says he's not, but don't tell that to the hot guys that keep hittting on him.

Catherine Keener, a veteran of all three of Holofcener’s films, is Christine, who writes screenplays with her husband, David (Jason Isaacs), and is so self-absorbed that she can’t understand why her neighbors would be angry about her addition of a second story to her home, no matter that it does block their view.

Joan Cusack is Franny, a mondo-rich stay-at-home mom who’s the glue in the four women’s friendship. She doesn’t really have many problems of her own, nor does her husband Matt (Greg Germann). Their wealth may not be the only reason they’re so happy, but it sure doesn’t hurt.

And Jennifer Aniston is Olivia, who’s “single, a pothead and a maid,” according to one of her friends. Olivia used to teach snooty kids at a fancy school, until they started bringing her quarters because they felt sorry for her. Now, she’s content-ish to clean other people’s homes.

“Friends” doesn’t have much in the way of plot. Even Olivia’s search for the perfect boyfriend isn’t a major deal. Instead, Holofcener just wants us to observe these women, to see how many of their problems are of their own creation, to see how their materialism and self-loathing is destructive.

It’s not the comedy that some ads make it out to be, but it does have its share of humor, which comes from very real places. By the same token, it’s not as depressing as it might sound, though it does have a dark center.

Equal doses of humor and darkness? Sounds like real life to me.

Big-Time Dreamerz

Here's my review of "American Dreamz," which was unexpectedly left out of today's Get Out!

The judges on “American Idol” have a standard phrase when a contestant takes on a too-ambitious song: “That song was too big for you.”

That’s almost what happens to Paul Weitz, who wrote and directed the satire “American Dreamz.”

Weitz, who has moved from the “American Pie” movies to the highly regarded “About a Boy” and “In Good Company,” has huge ambitions for “Dreamz”: Not only does he want to satirize America’s fascination with reality TV contests, such as “Idol,” but he also tries to connect that willful disconnect from reality with a takedown of the Good Ol’ Boy presidency of George W. Bush.

To Weitz, the two situations are inescapably connected: The film argues that a society that’s willing to surrender so completely to manufactured reality on a TV show will also surrender completely to a manufactured reality from the White House.

The result is a frequently hilarious, but not totally successful, film.

Hugh Grant stars as Martin Tweed, the obnoxious British host of “Dreamz.” He’s a misanthrope who’s getting bored with the show and all of its attendant celebrity hoo-hah, so to make the show interesting for himself, he rigs it so that the finale comes down to an ambitious (and slightly trashy) blonde girl (Mandy Moore as Sally Kendoo) and a show tune-loving Iraqi (Sam Golzari as Omer).

Meanwhile, Dennis Quaid’s President Staton has woken up after a successful re-election and decides to start reading newspapers, any that he can get his hands on — so many that he locks himself out of sight from the country.

That causes some concern from his wife (Marcia Gay Harden) and lots of concern from his chief of staff (Willem Dafoe), who’s bald like Dick Cheney and Machiavellian like Karl Rove.

The worlds collide when the chief gets Staton booked as a guest judge on the “Dreamz” finale, where he becomes a target of the reluctant suicide bomber Omer.

Grant, as always, is slickly perfect in the role, showing us how, to paraphrase a memorable exchange, Tweed knows he needs to be a better person but that he has no real desire to become one. Moore also scores as the ruthless Sally, who’s willing to get back together with her ex when he’s nicked with a bullet in Iraq because she knows that story will help her win.

Golzari, Quaid, Harden and Dafoe also are solid, as are supporting players Jennifer Coolidge (Sally’s mother, an underwritten role) and Seth Meyers (Sally’s agent, also a little undercooked).

If anything, Weitz should have been more ruthless, but at its best, “Dreamz” is the finest bit of cinematic satire since “Wag the Dog.”

Welcome to my world

This is just a place-holder until I actually start posting. Which will be soon. I hope.