“Salt” is, quite literally, a shaggy dog story.

Despite the cryptic ads that pose the question, “Who Is Salt?” and regardless of the various twists and turns designed to throw us off, the intentions of Angelina Jolie’s super-spy character, Evelyn Salt, are never really in question. This is obvious, based on one comparatively small gesture in an early scene.

Salt, a CIA officer accused of being a Russian spy, dashes home to grab the supplies she needs to go on the run and hunt for her husband, who’s missing. She grabs a backpack hidden in a trunk full of clothes, but while she’s there she also sees her scruffy, little terrier, padding about the apartment, nervous because everything is in upheaval. Once she escapes by climbing out the window and slinking from ledge to ledge, high above the sidewalk — barefoot in a pencil skirt, in the winter, no less — she persuades a young girl in a neighboring apartment to let her in.

There, Salt opens the backpack and produces — you guessed it — the aforementioned scruffy, little terrier. (Good thing they didn’t have a Great Dane.) And you realize right then and there that anyone who would go to that much trouble to save a dog cannot be a bad person. It’s impossible. So from that point on, while there’s tension in “Salt,” there really is no suspense. Any attempts to confuse us about our heroine’s true nature — and there are many — feel like an elaborate sham.

Under the direction of Phillip Noyce, though, at least it’s a well-made sham. “Salt” allows Noyce to return to the kind of action thrillers he’s made previously, like the Tom Clancy adaptations “Patriot Games” and “Clear and Present Danger.” It’s muscular, gritty and propulsive. (Robert Elswit, an Oscar winner for “There Will Be Blood,” is the cinematographer.) It’s also totally ludicrous and lacking in even the slightest shred of humanity.

It’s intriguing that, while a man originally was the main character in Kurt Wimmer’s script (and reportedly was to be played by Tom Cruise), making Salt a woman in no way depletes the film of its brawniness. But Jolie expressed interest in playing James Bond a few years back, and voila — Edwin Salt became Evelyn Salt. No actress working today is as convincing an action star as Jolie, and she does tear it up here; the fight scenes are visceral, not balletic like the “Tomb Raider” movies or supernaturally trippy as in “Wanted.”

But what Jolie is called upon to do grows increasingly difficult to accept, even for summer escapism. Stunts that would result in serious injury or even death to the average person are nothing for Salt. She jumps off an overpass and onto a moving 18-wheeler, then onto a tanker truck, then onto another semi before landing on the windshield of a cab, stealing a motorcycle and zipping away. She leaps from a moving subway train onto a platform, rolls and just gets up and runs. She gets shot and places a maxi-pad on the wound.

Yes, she’s supposed to be a highly trained undercover operative — whether she’s working for the United States or Russia — but this is ridiculous and even laughable when, in theory, we’re supposed to be engrossed.

Salt’s identity first comes into question while she’s interrogating a Russian defector (Daniel Olbrychski) who tells of sleeper cells that have infiltrated the U.S., made up of spies who’ve been indoctrinated since childhood. One of them is on a mission to kill the Russian president during a visit to New York. The person’s name: Evelyn Salt.

Naturally, when Salt flees, it makes her look a little guilty. Her associate and good friend Ted Winters (Liev Schreiber, solid in everything) wants to believe she’s innocent, but the counterintelligence agent on the case (Chiwetel Ejiofor in a largely one-note role) immediately mistrusts her and sends out the big guns to bring her down.

It would be easier to care about her motives and her fate if she were fleshed out even a little bit more. As it is, Salt is all business. We don’t know how she truly feels about her husband, who’s crucial to a couple of scenes, and we never know how she feels about the many acts of violence she commits over a short time — some of them questionable, many of them deadly.

It’s easy to figure out what Salt is. But who is she? That’s a question the film never really seemed interested in answering.

Release Date: July 23, 2010

Genre: Action, Thriller

MPAA Rating: PG-13

Studio: Columbia Pictures (Sony)

Director: Phillip Noyce

Screenwriter: Kurt Wimmer

Trailer

Movie Website: WhoIsSalt.com

Actors/Actresses: Angelina Jolie, Liev Schreiber, Chiwetel Ejiofor

Director Phillip Noyce’s return to major-studio filmmaking maintains a workmanlike competence throughout but lacks inspired chase sequences or diabolical smarts.

Let’s begin by announcing, with great relief, that all the hype is justified. Writer-director Christopher Nolan’s first film since “The Dark Knight” is a stunningly gorgeous, technically flawless symphony of images and ideas. “Memento,” the mystery-in-reverse that put Nolan on the map a decade ago, looks almost quaint by comparison.

In its sheer enormity, it’s every inch a blockbuster, but in the good sense of the word: with awesomeness, ambition and scope. The cinematography, production design, effects, editing, score, everything down the line – all superb. But unlike so many summer movies assigned that tag, “Inception” is no mindless thrill ride. It’ll make you work, but that’s part of what’s so thrilling about it. With its complicated concepts about dreams within dreams, layers of consciousness and methods of manipulation, “Inception” might make you want to stop a few times just to get your bearings.

The juggernaut of Nolan’s storytelling momentum, however, keeps pounding away.

Even from the very beginning, you may feel a bit off-balance, with Nolan jumping around in time before dropping you into the middle of a tense conversation between Leonardo DiCaprio as dream thief Dom Cobb, Joseph Gordon-Levitt as his right-hand man, Arthur, and Ken Watanabe as one of their clients.

That’s part of the game, though: making us question what’s reality and what’s a product of sleep, right alongside the characters.

That experience in itself may sound a bit familiar, and “Inception” does feature glimmers of mind-trip movies like “The Matrix,” “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind” and even a “Wizard of Oz” moment. At its core, it’s actually a heist movie – the tried-and-true One Last Job, to be exact – but Nolan takes these elements and combines them in a way that is daringly, dazzlingly his own.

So … where were we again? Ah yes, explaining what “Inception” is about.

DiCaprio’s Dom Cobb is an extractor, a sort of master thief who enters the mind while a person is dreaming to steal their secrets. Watanabe, as the powerful businessman Saito, hires Dom and his team for a different kind of crime: sneak into the subconscious of a competitor (Cillian Murphy) and implant an idea that will ruin his empire. In return, Saito will help Dom clear his name for a crime he didn’t commit, one that’s torn him from his wife and two young children and forced him to go on the run.

And so, as in any classic caper, “Inception” provides the anticipation of watching Dom assemble his crew and map out his scheme, with each person performing a specific function. While Dom is the big-picture guy, Arthur handles the details. Eames (the hugely charismatic Tom Hardy from “Bronson”) is the forger – someone who can assume another identity to control the dreamer. Yusuf (Dileep Rao) is the chemist whose concoction allows them all to turn on, tune in and drop out together.

Ariadne (Ellen Page, showing an appealingly low-key intelligence) is the architect, the one who builds the maze-like structure of the dream. Since she’s the newcomer, she also serves as our guide in this brave new world. And her name, like that of several characters, couldn’t have been a coincidence; in Greek mythology, Ariadne helps lead Theseus out of the labyrinth with a ball of red thread when he enters to slay the Minotaur. (Thanks, seventh-grade English class!)

But when they all fall asleep and dream together, both as practice and during the real deal, forces from their own subconscious states enter the picture – namely Dom’s wife, Mal (Marion Cotillard), someone else whose name offers a clue. Here’s where DiCaprio infuses the character with vulnerability to complement his drive. Wistful memories of their relationship provide the necessary heart to balance out the intense braininess of the picture, some softness to lighten the substantial heft of the machinery.

And what a machine it is. You’ve seen the big set pieces countless times in the commercials: a freight train plowing through downtown traffic, DiCaprio and Page sitting calmly in a cafe surrounded by explosions, Paris folding over on top of itself, Gordon-Levitt floating through a hotel corridor. You haven’t seen anything until you’ve seen them on the big screen. They’re enormous yet intricately detailed, tactile while at the same time … well, dreamlike.

It’s all part of one of the year’s best films, one that will surely get even better upon repeated viewings.

Release Date: July 16, 2010 (conventional and IMAX theaters)

Genre: Action, Sci-Fi

MPAA Rating: PG-13

Studio: Warner Bros. Pictures

Director: Christopher Nolan

Screenwriter: Christopher Nolan

Trailer

Movie Website: Inceptionmovie.com

Actors/Actresses: Leonardo DiCaprio, Ken Watanabe, Joseph Gordon-Levitt, Marion Cotillard, Ellen Page, Tom Hardy, Cillian Murphy, Tom Berenger, Michael Caine

Our Verdict:

Christopher Nolan masterfully messes with your mind in the smart, stunning Inception.

If toys, video games, comics and TV cartoon specials can serve as sources for Hollywood action flicks, why not Mickey Mouse?

Nicolas Cage and Jay Baruchel’s “The Sorcerer’s Apprentice,” as “suggested by the animated short” of the same name starring Mickey, may not work any bedazzling magic.

Yet the family fantasy that reunites Cage with his “National Treasure” producer Jerry Bruckheimer and director Jon Turteltaub stirs up a pleasant-enough potion whose effects, action and comedy should send parents and kids home happy.

They will have to put up with the whine of Baruchel’s voice, which seems to grow more nasally as he ages.

But the often stodgy Cage, fresh from a couple of deliriously manic performances in “Kick-Ass” and “Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans,” has rediscovered his inner goof, hamming it up as a 1,500-year-old sorcerer who can claim Merlin the magician as a mentor.

He’s still a bit stiff and self-serious, but then, centuries of futile searching for some chosen kid called the Prime Merlinian will do that to you.

The story developed by a team of five writers from the Mickey Mouse short — part of Walt Disney’s 1940 collection “Fantasia” and itself inspired by a Goethe poem — essentially is a variation of the King Arthur Chosen One tale told with wizards.

A clunky narrated prologue lays out the conflict in more detail than parents or kids are likely to want. The gist of it: Back around the 8th century, Merlin had three apprentices, lovers Balthazar Blake (Cage) and Veronica (Monica Bellucci), and Maxim (Alfred Molina), who turned rotten and sided with evil sorceress Morgana (Alice Krige) in her attempt to raise dead wizards and end the world.

Balthazar manages to put a cork in it by trapping Maxim, Morgana and unfortunately Veronica in this thing called the Grimhold, sort of a Russian nesting doll to imprison sorcerers. It’s only a temporary fix, and Balthazar sets off on a quest to find the Prime Merlinian, the successor to Merlin’s power who can destroy Morgana for good.

Cut to present-day Manhattan, where Balthazar finally has found his boy in physics geek Dave Stutler (Baruchel). With Maxim newly freed and aiming to release Morgana from the Grimhold, Balthazar’s on a tight deadline to train klutzy Dave in the tricks of the sorcery trade he’ll need to take down the baddies.

Complicating matters, Dave’s just rediscovered the love of his childhood, Becky (Teresa Palmer), and his efforts to win her over prove a distraction to his apprenticeship.

The effects and action are fine but mostly unremarkable, consisting heavily of sorcerers hurling fiery balls of plasma at one another or mad scientist Dave zapping arcs of lightning around in his lab.

The filmmakers cleverly recreate the scenario of Goethe’s poem and Mickey cartoon’s in a sequence where Dave brings an army of mops to life in a misguided attempt to save time on cleaning chores.

Baruchel’s twangy voice aside, he and Cage forge an engaging student-teacher relationship, while Molina’s dapper villain routine adds some class. Bellucci’s role is little more than a walk-on, but Toby Kebbell grabs some laughs as a stagy protege to Maxim.

Cage, Turteltaub and Bruckheimer clearly are aiming to create another “National Treasure”-style franchise to feed the family action comedy market.

Are there big laughs and great action in “The Sorcerer’s Apprentice”? No, but it’s a fairly fun time for families, and Hollywood can — and continually does — build franchises out of far worse concoctions than this.

Release Date: July 16, 2010

Genre: Adventure, Comedy

MPAA Rating: PG

Studio: Walt Disney Pictures

Director: Jon Turteltaub

Screenwriter: Matt Lopez, Doug Miro, Carlo Bernard

Trailer

Movie Website: Disney.com

Actors/Actresses: Nicolas Cage, Jay Baruchel, Alfred Molina, Teresa Palmer, Monica Bellucci, Toby Kebbell

Our Verdict:

No big laughs, but the movie is, at times, fun for a family audience.

Unlikely to be remembered as one of Warner Bros.’ more illustrious DC Comics properties, “Jonah Hex” casts a weak spell. An ultra-stylish attempt to spin the gunslinging bounty hunter from a little-known 1970s comicbook series into the stuff of movie myth, this supernatural neo-Western actioner earns some distinction by virtue of its grungy post-Civil War settings and offbeat casting. But “Jonah” was a risky proposition to begin with, and the film’s noisy, slam-bang approach and lack of imagination in all nonvisual departments will keep it from rounding up a fresh generation of thrill-seekers.

It doesn’t inspire confidence to discover that the filmmakers went to the trouble of mounting a costly and elaborate production to introduce an unsung antihero to a overcrowded comicbook-movie market, only to end the pic at a mere 81 minutes (including closing credits). While the door is left open for a sequel, it’s hard to imagine a studio or an audience getting terribly excited about the prospect after such a numbing pyrotechnic display in service of a perfunctory revenge saga — one that happens to be set on the troubled eve of America’s centennial.

Amid a series of rapid dissolves and crude 2D animation, the prologue finds Confederate soldier Jonah Hex (Josh Brolin) strung up and forced to watch as his wife and child are murdered by his commanding officer, Quentin Turnbull (John Malkovich, adding to his gallery of one-note evildoers). Fanatically devoted to the South’s cause, Turnbull proceeds to brand his initials into Jonah’s cheek, leaving a painful, permanent reminder of the soldier’s inner torment.

Years later, Jonah has become a bounty hunter, a brooding, embittered loner who does most of his talking through the barrel of an 1873 Colt (or via the Gatling guns conveniently attached to his horse) and reserves his sole interpersonal exchanges for a fetching young prostitute, Lilah (Megan Fox). But when Jonah learns that Turnbull, presumed dead but very much alive, is planning to launch a cataclysmic attack on the Union, he makes it his mission to save the nation and settle the score.

This gives rise to the tale’s most striking narrative innovation, as Jonah gleans key information by communicating with the dead — a gift he demonstrates in a series of ghoulish yet oddly poignant interludes with talking corpses (expertly rendered by the f/x and makeup teams). It’s one of the few memorable touches in a picture that — despite numerous opportunities for clever historical revisionism and visual artistry (some of which are realized in Tom Meyer’s sun-drenched production design and Michael Wilkinson’s spot-on costumes) — ultimately favors the expedient and the explosive at every turn.

This should come as little surprise, given that “Jonah Hex” was scripted by Brian Neveldine and Mark Taylor (the writing-directing duo behind “Gamer” and the “Crank” movies), who were originally slated to direct before exiting the project, citing creative differences. While the helming reins were handed over to animation maven Jimmy Hayward (“Dr. Seuss’ Horton Hears a Who!”), it’s the signature of Neveldine & Taylor (as they’re billed here) that remains most evident in the film’s shotgun wedding of oater iconography and videogame aesthetics — all smash edits, feverish cross-cutting, color-saturated lensing and a thunderous heavy-metal score — as well as its fusion of old-fashioned artillery and futuristic weaponry.

Given the relative paucity of Westerns on the current moviegoing landscape, it’s somewhat dispiriting to encounter a movie that would painstakingly erect a facade of 19th-century mining towns, military forts and runaway locomotives (pic was lensed primarily in Louisiana), only to blow every one of those sets to yawn-inducing smithereens — all presided over by Malkovich’s leering megalomaniac, hamming it up like some kind of Southern Bond villain (“Ahhhm the detonat-uh!”).

Brolin has shown a natural affinity for material with a Western bent (whether it’s “No Country for Old Men” or, presumably, the Coen brothers’ upcoming “True Grit” remake), and he’s well cast as the tortured central figure, even if the script never allows him the time or the scale to make Jonah Hex much more than an anguished character sketch. Thesp is forced to grunt and scowl through one side of his mouth, thanks to that convincingly gruesome prosthetic scar, which makes some of his gravelly voiceover unintelligible.

While Fox is adequate as a whore packing plenty of heat in her corset, the unusual supporting cast is an embarrassment of underutilized riches: Michael Fassbender makes a memorable impression as Turnbull’s nasty No. 2, while Michael Shannon is almost unrecognizable as a fiendish carnival impresario. Elsewhere, Aidan Quinn, Wes Bentley and Will Arnett (in a rare noncomedic role) register far too fleetingly.

Genre: Action, Thriller

MPAA Rating: PG-13

Studio: Warner Bros. Pictures

Director: Jimmy Hayward

Screenwriter: Mark Neveldine, Brian Taylor

Trailer

Movie Website: Jonah-Hex.com

Actors/Actresses: Josh Brolin, John Malkovich, Megan Fox, Will Arnett, Michael Shannon

Our Verdict:

Although Josh Brolin rises to the occasion, much of this comic book adaptation appears to have been abandoned on the cutting-room floor. It admittedly starts off great guns, but all too quickly it becomes apparent that the big-screen arrival of the supernatural Western DC Comics series “Jonah Hex” is firing loud, empty blanks.

This is what happens when you’re good at your job: Everyone expects excellence from you, and anything even slightly short of that feels like a letdown.

“Toy Story 3″ is a gorgeous film — funny, sweet and clever in the tradition of the best Pixar movies — but because it comes from that studio’s nearly flawless tradition, including two “Toy Story” predecessors, the expectations naturally are inflated. Excluding “Cars,” Pixar has a perfect track record of animated classics, with the innovative “Toy Story” starting it all in 1995. And so the pressure’s on to come up with a tale that makes a sequel worthwhile.

The storytelling in no way is in question; it never is at Pixar, which is the fundamental reason their films are so strong. Neither is the voice cast, led once again by Tom Hanks, Tim Allen and Joan Cusack, with formidable newcomers like Ned Beatty thrown into the mix. The details are as vibrant and tactile as ever: the textures and expressions, the use of light, angles and perspective.

And the core concept — that toys have a rich, complex interior life when people aren’t around — still holds up and resonates all these years later.

If “Toy Story” hadn’t come out in 1995 and “Toy Story 2″ hadn’t followed it in 1999, “Toy Story 3″ would stand on its own as a breakthrough. Trouble is, those earlier movies do exist. And by comparison, this third installment doesn’t feel quite so fresh.

And then, of course, there is the 3-D — the trend of the summer, the thing that makes this “Toy Story” different from the first two. It’s not intrusive. It doesn’t consist of stuff being flung at you and plopped in your laps in gimmicky fashion. But as is so often the case, it’s also completely unnecessary.

That’s especially true with the kind of strong writing you have here. The script comes from Michael Arndt, an Oscar-winner for “Little Miss Sunshine,” based on a story by director Lee Unkrich, Pixar chief John Lasseter and “WALL-E” director Andrew Stanton. The words and the characters pop off the screen just fine on their own.

The premise is compelling: Andy (voiced by John Morris) is no longer a kid playing all day in his room with Woody (Hanks), Buzz Lightyear (Allen), cowgirl Jessie (Cusack) and the rest. He’s heading off to college, and as he’s cleaning out his room, he must decide what to do with his old friends. Mom (Laurie Metcalf) gives him two options: stick them in a box for storage in the attic or throw them in a trash bag for the garbage men.

The toys, including the neurotic dinosaur Rex (Wallace Shawn), know-it-all piggy bank Hamm (John Ratzenberger) and wisecracking Mr. and Mrs. Potato Head (Don Rickles and Estelle Harris), are understandably freaked out by both prospects. Plus, they’re just sad to see their friend go and have all the good times end. It raises the kind of deep, existential question you don’t often see in a kids movie: If no one acknowledges you, do you still exist?

Through a couple of mix-ups (and some “Mission: Impossible”-style maneuvering), they wind up instead at a day care, which seems awesome: Kids play with you all day! And new kids are constantly coming through, so the toys will never be bored or lonely! It’s paradise — until they’re placed in the room with all the wildly grabby toddlers, rather than the older kids who play a little more gently. And the whole place is run with a firm, fuzzy paw by Lots-o’-Huggin’ Bear (the excellent Beatty), who’s all Southern charm at first but is actually a Machiavellian tyrant. He’s like a pink, strawberry-scented Tennessee Williams character.

Among the other new cast members, Timothy Dalton is a total scene-stealer as a hedgehog in leiderhosen named Mr. Pricklepants, a preening British actor, and Michael Keaton is perfect as pretty-boy Ken, who’s just as obsessed with clothes as Barbie (Jodi Benson) is. It’s some of the best work Keaton’s done in years, and a great reminder of how funny he can be.

Unkrich, who was a film editor on “Toy Story” and co-director on “Toy Story 2,” plays the petite prison elements of the situation for tons of clever laughs. There’s also a beautiful, sepia-toned flashback that explains the origin of Lotso’s anger, as well as the back story of his chief enforcer, a creepy doll named Big Baby. But then “Toy Story 3″ turns unusually dark as it heads toward its climax — it might be too intense for littler kids — before turning heavy-handedly sappy at the absolute end.

Genre: Adventure, Animation, Comedy, Family

MPAA Rating: G

Studio: Disney/Pixar

Director: Lee Unkrich

Screenwriter: Michael Arndt

Trailer

Movie Website: Disney.com/ToyStory

Actors/Actresses: Tom Hanks, Tim Allen, Joan Cusack, Don Rickles, Wallace Shawn, John Ratzenberger, Estelle Harris, John Morris, Laurie Metcalf, R. Lee Ermey, Jodi Benson, Ned Beatty, Michael Keaton, Timothy Dalton, Jeff Garlin, Bonnie Hunt, Whoopi Goldberg, Kristen Schaal, Blake Clark

Our Verdict:

Adults in the audience will undoubtedly shed a tear or two. But that’s how good the folks at Pixar are: They make you feel genuine emotions for hunks of plastic.

Finally this summer, a movie that lives up to its hype.

“Get Him to the Greek” is a complete blast, a much-needed breath of fresh air — well, as much fresh air as you can get in crowded clubs, packed rock shows and trashed hotel suites. But you get the idea. Its energy is what’s so refreshing, its lack of pretension or self-seriousness, especially during a season of bloated, boring blockbusters.

Like the 2008 hit “Forgetting Sarah Marshall” which inspired it, and like the other stand-out Judd Apatow productions such as “The 40-Year-Old Virgin,” “Knocked Up” and “Superbad,” “Get Him to the Greek” is primarily here to offer up a good time, with rapid-fire jokes, great pacing and (of course) a litany of clever pop-culture references. But there’s always that layer of humanity and sweetness that sneaks in, providing some heart along with the raunchiness.

Russell Brand’s performance was one of the funniest, most memorable parts of “Forgetting Sarah Marshall,” and here he reprises the role of preening British rock star Aldous Snow. Brand stole that movie in just a few scenes, and a little of this character would seem to go a long way. Aldous is self-centered, arrogant and condescending. People are disposable to him, and he’s incapable of being loyal. He’s also flat-out brilliant and highly verbal, with a quick wit and an arsenal of hilariously off-kilter quips and observations. So he’s sort of a fascinating mix of contradictions, and a guy you wouldn’t mind hanging out with and partying all night — just to see what happens.

But “Forgetting Sarah Marshall” director Nicholas Stoller, who directed and wrote the script this time based on Jason Segel’s characters, also shows Aldous’ vulnerability, his caring side and even a darkness in expanding the role. “Get Him to the Greek” might actually go to some places that are too uncomfortably dark, its only weakness. But Brand seems comfortable and confident throughout, and the stand-up comic shows he’s capable of more than just earning laughs.

When we first see him in “Get Him to the Greek,” Aldous has released his latest album, “African Child,” to universal critical derision. (The video for the title song opens the film, and it’s a scream.) At the same time, he’s also just been dumped by his longtime girlfriend and the mother of his son, model/pop star Jackie Q (Rose Byrne in a beautifully deadpan turn as a clueless, vapid musician). So after years of sobriety, he’s now numbing the pain with booze, drugs and as many women as he can find: basically living the cliched rock-star life.

But up-and-coming record executive Aaron Green (Jonah Hill) has an idea: stage a 10-year-anniversary concert of Aldous’ legendary show at the Greek Theatre in Los Angeles. It’ll provide a jolt not just to Aldous’ career but his own, and hopefully impress his mercurial, demanding boss, Sergio Roma (Sean Combs, a scene-stealer himself).

Hill is the straight man again, as he was opposite Brand in “Forgetting Sarah Marshall,” but he’s not playing the same character. Both guys share a fawning admiration for Aldous’ work. In “Get Him to the Greek,” at least, this dynamic will change.

Aaron’s assignment is to fly to London and bring Aldous back to Los Angeles for the big comeback show. Naturally, this does not go as planned. There are wild stops in New York and Las Vegas, missed flights and anonymous romps, swigs of absinthe and smuggled drugs. Cameos from celebrities like Pink, MTV’s Kurt Loder and “Today” show host Meredith Vieira add a dash of realism to the adventures.

Part of the charm of “Get Him to the Greek” is that there’s a firm deadline — Aldous has to get there — but he’s taking his time, doing whatever he wants whenever he wants to do it, and Stoller revels in these detours. They also allow Aaron and Aldous to bond, and what’s intriguing about their relationship is that the power keeps shifting back and forth between them. Aaron isn’t constantly adoring, Aldous isn’t constantly abusive.

They actually, unexpectedly come close to being friends. And “Get Him to the Greek” comes close to being great.

Genre: Comedy

MPAA Rating: R

Studio: Universal Pictures

Director: Nicholas Stoller

Screenwriter: Nicholas Stoller, Rodney Rothman

Trailer

Movie Website: GetHimtotheGreek.net

Actors/Actresses: Jonah Hill, Russell Brand, Rose Byrne, Sean Combs, Elisabeth Moss

Our Verdict:

It’s crude, loud, dumb fun. And, on top of that, it contains the greatest cameo ever by a winner of the Nobel Memorial Prize in Economics.

Mood swings similar to those experienced by menopausal Samantha are a common side effect of exposure to Sex and the City 2. Two and a half hours (!) spent in the company of fortysomething Carrie Bradshaw (Sarah Jessica Parker), Charlotte York-Goldenblatt (Kristin Davis), and Miranda Hobbes (Cynthia Nixon), and fiftysomething Samantha Jones (Kim Cattrall) takes a toll: The experience of listening to the girls complain about their fairy-tale lives from the comfort of an all-expenses-paid luxury vacation in the Arabian desert may leave a viewer feeling by turns nostalgic, disoriented, and impatient.

Don’t worry. This is a normal response to revisiting an essence-of-1990s-NYC experience and seeing it through 2010 eyes. And it’s a natural reaction given that, in turning the blinged-out foursome into garish caricatures of their already outlandish selves, it seems the producers are just not that into us.

Once upon a time, Carrie, Charlotte, Miranda, and Samantha represented an 
 extravagant (white) fantasy of sophisticated city-that-never-sleeps sisterhood. They were Manolo’d ambassadors from a world of Manhattan glamour and cosmos who, underneath their finery, were recognizable as real types of women in an American urban world. Now? Well, the friends still look porelessly fine. And I’m delighted that, in an antidote to recession frugality, their wardrobe budget hasn’t taken a hit. But in SATC2, whether the topic is gay marriage discussed at the over-the-top wedding of Carrie’s Best Gay Friend (Willie Garson) to Charlotte’s own BGF (Mario Cantone), or gender roles in the complicated United Arab Emirate of Abu Dhabi explored on a camel, the conversation has been reduced to a string of quips. ”It’s Bedouin, Bath & Beyond!” Carrie chirps about amenities in a luxurious desert oasis. ”Lawrence of my labia!” Samantha purrs — ewww! — about an attractive man observed driving across the dunes. Writer-director Michael Patrick King compulsively jams pun after groaner pun into the script, tipping 
 the ladies’ lifestyles and life issues perilously into cartoon territory done better by Jennifer Saunders and Joanna Lumley on BBC’s Absolutely Fabulous.

Three of the four have uninteresting but reasonable problems: Charlotte is upset that motherhood is hard; Miranda is upset that she’s unappreciated at work; Samantha is upset that she can’t outrun menopause. The fourth takes the cupcake: Carrie is upset because she’s got everything, including marriage to Big (Chris Noth), a new book, and a humongous closet, and now she’s… what? Spoiled and bored, we can’t help but think. (”Is this because I’m a bitch wife who nags you?” Carrie wheedles when Big asks for some space; at the screening I attended, the audience answered aloud, Yes.)

Yet with the exception of Miranda (who, honestly, is far too mature and engaged in the world to still hang with these me-me-me gals), not one of the fashion fiends lifts her head out of her luggage to get a clue. While Miranda reads up on Abu Dhabi and learns to speak basic courtesies in Arabic, Charlotte scrambles like an American maniac in search of clear cell-phone reception. Samantha is still at it with the horny shtick: She insults her hosts as she rails against not being allowed to dress as trampy as she wants. Carrie still can’t get over the awful fact that, while she gave Big an expensive vintage wristwatch for their second anniversary, he gave her a high-end flat-screen TV installed in their bedroom so they could watch old black-and-white movies together. Together. As if the gesture were an insult rather than an offer to share something, anything, other than nights out on the town.

It’s of passing interest to note that all the male characters who make return visits — including John Corbett as Carrie’s ex, David Eigenberg as Miranda’s husband, Evan Handler as Charlotte’s husband, and Jason Lewis as Samantha’s actor boy-toy — are so nice and mild and understanding and accommodating that they fade into invisibility. SATC2 doesn’t have time to follow any relationships other than those among Carrie, Samantha, Charlotte, Miranda, and their suitcases full of costumer Patricia Field’s caftan-themed creations. As Carrie might type on her laptop while giving one of her girly little shrugs, When did Sex and the City become so long and mean so little?

Genre: Comedy, Romance

MPAA Rating: R

Studio: New Line Cinema (Warner Bros. Pictures)

Director: Michael Patrick King

Screenwriter: Michael Patrick King

Trailer

Movie Website: SexandtheCitymovie.com

Actors/Actresses: Sarah Jessica Parker, Kim Cattrall, Kristin Davis, Cynthia Nixon, Chris Noth, David Eigenberg, Evan Handler, Jason Lewis, Mario Cantone, Willie Garson

Our Verdict:

If only they’d called it “Almost No Sex and Very Little City,” at least we would know what we were in for with ” Sex and the City 2.”

As sword-and-sandal fantasy movies based on videogames and starring a buffed-up Jake Gyllenhaal go, Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time goes pretty well. Gyllenhaal plays the grown-up Prince Dastan, adopted as a resourceful street kid by a sixth-century Persian king. Stained a rich George Hamilton teak in adulthood and bravely committed to a hairstyle reminiscent of Facebook-friendless Kip Drordy on South Park, Dastan has two nobly born stepbrothers: Tus (Richard Coyle as the square-featured and hesitant one) and Garsiv (Toby Kebbell as the toothy and bellicose one). Together, they receive counsel from their wily uncle Nazim (Ben Kingsley wearing eyeliner, so beware). On Nazim’s recommendation, the brothers attack the holy city of Alamut, with fateful consequences. Dastan forms an instant rom-com sparring connection with the Alamutian princess Tamina (Gemma Arterton). The princess is serious about her duties as guardian of the dagger that contains a travel-size sample of the legendary sands with which a human can turn back time. Arterton, a current Brit It actress, favors rock-star eye makeup and a mall-teen pout to express Tamina’s deAvotion to weapons and sand.

Lots more stuff happens to these game-board characters, as fans of Jordan Mechner’s popular Prince of Persia videogame already know. To the credit of director Mike Newell (drawing on his Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire wrangling skills), a conclave of screenwriters who keep the dialogue on the sharp side, and the life’s-a-game instincts of producer Jerry Bruckheimer, all that Arabian Nights-like stuff unfolds at a brisk, well-paced clip. Also, the producers had the bright idea of encouraging indispensable Alfred Molina (An Education) to cut loose as Sheikh Amar, a vibrant wheeler-dealer reminiscent of Sydney Greenstreet in Casablanca. I wish the movie weren’t so visually junky-looking, and that the CGI action sequences (involving sand, and weapons, and the possible destruction of the world) weren’t so vacant. But hey, this is what a videogame movie looks like now. I know I can’t turn back time.

Genre: Action, Adventure, Fantasy

MPAA Rating: PG-13

Studio: Walt Disney Pictures

Director: Mike Newell

Screenwriter: Doug Miro, Carlo Bernard

Trailer

Movie Website: Disney.com/PrinceofPersia

Actors/Actresses: Jake Gyllenhaal, Ben Kingsley, Gemma Arterton, Alfred Molina, Toby Kebbell

Our Verdict:

Gyllenhaal, with his boyish charm playing nicely off his buffed-up physique, actually makes a pretty decent action hero.

Shrek Forever After, the fourth and allegedly final Shrek movie, finds our ogre hero living in 3-D but frustrated with his mundane existence as husband, father of three and living legend. Shrek (voiced by Mike Myers) longs to be a real ogre again. He wants to see villagers fleeing before him in genuine terror, instead of treating his home like a tourist attraction. In one of the movie’s better gags, a plump little boy keeps insisting, in a helium-inflected growl, that Shrek “do the roar.” Shrek wants not to “do” the roar, but to really feel the roar. He wants his old life back, if only for a day.

This being a fairy tale, albeit a modern one, there is a way to make that happen — involving a magical contract proffered by that master of fairyland deceit, Rumpelstiltskin. And this being a Shrek film, the resulting adventure is once again lively and clever, although its creative underpinnings — a sort of flea-market pastiche of antique fairy tales, vintage vaudeville and contemporary pop culture — seem rather more shabby than chic. When the first Shrek came out, in 2001, DreamWorks’ use of that that same triptych of source materials, liberally sprinkled with jabs at Disney, seemed in and of itself original. Nine years later, it’s hard not to notice how everything in the movie comes from somewhere else — nicely rearranged, but far from fresh.

That said, sitting down to a fourth Shrek feels no more objectionable than sitting down to the second, or the third — neither of which I recalled in any detail as I sat down to watch this one, despite having seen them in the theater and then multiple times in the living room. This movie doesn’t attempt, as the other three did, to advance Shrek’s life story, such as it is. It appears to be driven more by capitalism than any storytelling urge, and steers away from a linear narrative in order to circle back to the first movie for a sort of It’s a Wonderful Life diversion in which Shrek sees what things in the kingdom of Far Far Away would be like without him.

We learn in prologue that, in the days before Shrek rescued his beloved Princess Fiona (Cameron Diaz) from a dragon-guarded tower, Rumpelstiltskin (Walt Dohm) was this close to convincing her parents to sign away their kingdom to free her. Shrek foiled the plot by saving her. Years later, though, Rumpelstiltskin still wants that kingdom — and at a crucial moment in Shrek’s midlife crisis, he shows up with a sympathetic shoulder, too many eyeball martinis and a contract that offers Shrek a day to be an ogre again — in exchange for a day from Shrek’s past. Shrek is too far into his cups to realize that it could be the day he was born.

He is soon trapped in an alternate reality — in this week of the Lost finale, let’s call it a sideways world — in which Fiona has sprung herself from the dragon’s keep and blossomed into the ferocious leader of an ogre rebellion — Joan of Arc meets Lara Croft. Donkey (Eddie Murphy, still funny) is a slave to a crew of ogre-hunting wicked witches. And Puss in Boots (Antonio Banderas) is so fat, he can’t fit into his boots anymore. And everything hinges — again — on true love’s kiss. Whatever: my motivation for seeing Shrek Forever After rested squarely on the shoulders of that fat cat. He was the cream I was looking for, and Banderas delivers, as usual.

But something did interfere with the simple pleasures of a corpulent cat. The Shrek sequels have always served as handy time capsules of the pop culture zeitgeist. Just as Shrek the Third had Justin Timberlake guest-star after he brought sexy back, Shrek Forever After features two recent breakthrough stars, Mad Men’s Jon Hamm and Glee’s Jane Lynch, playing respectively right-hand man to warrior Fiona and a prominent wicked witch. This kind of timeliness amuses adults but rarely does anything for kids.

Sending Shrek into George Bailey territory does even less for them. “I have some confusions,” my child kept saying after attending a screening with me. Me too. I kept thinking, so, in sideways world, Donkey’s a slave, Sawyer’s a cop, Ben’s a school teacher and Kate claims she’s innocent — hey, wait a minute, this isn’t Lost!

The timing is not the fault of Shrek Forever After; DreamWorks couldn’t have known when the year’s most talked-about TV show would go into its final season. But that only serves to highlight one of the difficulties with the franchise — at the end of the fourth go-round, this Shrek seems so intent on being in touch with the times that it feels out of touch with itself. Can an ogre jump a shark? I think so.

Genre: Animation, Comedy, Fantasy

MPAA Rating: PG

Studio: DreamWorks Animation

Director: Mike Mitchell

Screenwriter: Tim Sullivan, Josh Klausner

Trailer

Movie Website: Shrek.com

Actors/Actresses: Mike Myers, Cameron Diaz, Eddie Murphy, Antonio Banderas, Jon Hamm, Kathy Griffin, Kristen Schaal

Our Verdict:

If Shrek Forever After feels like a compromise in the end, maybe that’s a fitting parallel to the character himself. No longer the wild man of his youth, Shrek has to learn to come to terms with his new, perhaps less exciting life. It’s something many of us face eventually, even, apparently, the Hollywood franchise itself.

Unruly dialogue, early eighties fashion, mullets, and explosions (can’t forget about the explosions) dominate the 88 minute run time of Jorma Taccone’s MacGruber. It’s been a while since “Saturday Night Live” has had the courage to produce a feature version of one of their skits, and they decided to take the plunge with the MacGyver inspired knock-off. MacGruber is transformed from a mediocre 30 second sketch to an amazing action satire. Opting for an utterly over-the-top action movie parody rather than a faithful interpretation of the SNL sketch, MacGruber is childish and ridiculous and far funnier than you’re expecting.

The fact that it’s funny at all is a huge relief given the shaky track record of SNL movies, and the fact that co-writer and director Jorma Taccone was handling a feature for the first time. He and fellow writers John Solomon and Will Forte (who also stars, of course) bring to MacGruber a crazy bravado, one part loving tribute to 80s and 90s action movies and one part frantic anything-for-a-laugh wit, that propels the movie forward in a rush of butt jokes and shoddily choreographed action. In the same way Wayne’s World got you laughing at easy jokes and total non sequiturs, MacGruber slaps a few extra winks and nods on top of comedy you already know and sells it completely.

The central joke of the film is MacGruber himself, recipient of sixteen Purple Hearts and countless medals of valor, bomb expert and martial arts master, and pompous, homophobic ass with a mullet and a puffy vest. Dragged back into action by the stern Col. Faith (Powers Booth), MacGruber must team up with straitlaced Lt. Dixon Piper (Ryan Phillippe) and his loyal old cohort Vicki St. Elmo (Kristen Wiig) to stop the diabolical, ponytailed Dieter von Cunth (Val Kilmer), the very same super villain who killed MacGruber’s fiancee (Maya Rudolph) years ago on their wedding day. This could easy have been the plot to an old Chuck Norris movie, and everyone in the film except MacGruber plays it exactly that way– straight faced and solemn, somehow putting their faith in a guy who never even learned how to handle a gun.

Best of all at keeping a straight face is Kilmer, who is so very in on the joke that the ugly ponytail is his own hair; puffy and squinting, he’s nothing like the matinee idol of the 90s but totally winning as a competent villain who can’t help but be dragged down to MacGruber’s level. Phillippe is doing essentially the same duty as Piper, the frustrated know-it-all forced to listen to MacGruber, and while it’s nice to see him unclench his jaw and have fun for once, he can’t quite equal Kilmer’s insane commitment. Wiig, as always, is a bizarre gem, playing a woman who left her job as a mercenary to pursue a singing career, who fans out her hair in Farrah Fawcett waves, and who falls for MacGruber even after watching him distract the bad guys by running around naked with a stalk of celery jammed up his ass.

That celery gag might not sound all that promising on its own, but the magic of MacGruber is that it throws together a bunch of so-so jokes– sex with a ghost, using your friends as human shields, ruining a poker game you’re not even in– and, with deft editing and an entire cast with gifted comic timing, makes something hilarious. Forte’s commitment to the character is what makes the movie possible, but what really makes it fly is how he makes room for the rest of the cast, frequently letting other characters be the funniest parts of the scene. You could almost imagine the movie as just a straightforward action movie parody, entirely separate from SNL, but MacGruber pulls off what virtually no other character from that show has managed to do– he makes you want to see more of him.

Genre: Action, Comedy

MPAA Rating: R

Studio: Rogue Pictures (Universal)

Director: Jorma Taccone

Screenwriter: Will Forte, John Solomon, Jorma Taccone

Trailer

Movie Website: IAmRogue.com/MacGruber

Actors/Actresses: Will Forte, Ryan Phillippe, Kristen Wiig, Val Kilmer, Powers Boothe, Maya Rudolph

Our Verdict:

MacGruber is pure popcorn movie fun. It’s entertaining from beginning to end because it doesn’t take itself too seriously. You get to see actors like Boothe, Phillippe, and Kilmer deliver some truly ridiculous performances and you enjoy it because it looks like they’re enjoying it.