Some pretty lousy Netflix choices...

My Netflix viewing has tapered off for a while, mainly because there seemed to be nothing worth renting. What I did rent sat by my TV and DVD player for many a week (the two I watched this evening arrived on September 23). I have five films to tell you about, and only one of them has anything going for it.

That one is Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day, a sweet little period piece staring Francis McDormand as the titular Miss Pettigrew and the lovely Amy Adams as her sweet, lovely, and sadly not titular charge, a spoiled chanteuse who sleeps around (in order to further her show biz career) on the eve of World War II in London. It's funny and sweet (there's that word again), but nothing major, just a frothy little trifle (I'm channeling WWII era reviewers, folks, in an effort to stop saying sweet) about a down-on-her-luck woman who stumbles into a job as the wannabe starlet's personal assistant (probably long before they called them that). McDormand is wonderful as ever, and Adams just lights up the screen. She's on the current cover of Vanity Fair, and the feature article--along with the cover shot--has her made up like Rita Hayworth. She's certainly playing a much more naive starlet here, but one wonders why the magazine felt compelled to style her as a '40s era sex star and not just let Amy be Amy.

After that one, folks, it's all downhill. I rented Nim's Island, wrongly surmising if Jodie Foster was in it that it must have some redeeming value. She makes good flicks, right? Wrong. Somewhere her radar went flooey (see Flightplan), and she doesn't even hook up with the titular (there's that word again) island dweller, played by Abigail Breslin, until the one-hour and 40-minute film is three-quarters done. Breslin lives on the remote island with her oceanographer dad, the increasingly chunky and clunky Gerard Butler, who gets lost at sea. Nim (Breslin) calls upon her favorite author, Alex Ryder (Foster), thinking "he" will come and save her from evil cruise ship patrons who want to make a stop on her own private island. Imagine her surprise when Alex not only turns out to be Alexandra, but also agoraphobic. Foster is hammy and unwatchable, Butler is off-screen a lot, thankfully, and Breslin is the kid in a kid's picture that has no redeemable viewing qualities for an adult. Pass it by, or if you have kids, turn it on and leave the room and drink heavily.

Part way through Street Kings, the cops and corruption drama staring Keanu Reeves and Forest Whitaker, I thought, "Why does this film remind me of the great LA Confidential?" Well, sure enough the answer was in the credits: Story by James Ellroy (he also co-wrote the screenplay), and produced by Aaron Milchan. Sadly, this film can't begin to compare to that masterpiece. It has some of the same genes, though: a corrupt cop (Reeves), not afraid to plant evidence or shoot first; a crooked top cop (Whitaker); a bloody killing gone bad and the cop at the heart of it trying to get to the truth. It's sad if Ellroy feels he has to strip mine his own work for such drivel. However, I couldn't help also thinking that maybe--and I know this is SOOOO sacrilegious, it hurts to even write it--if they decided to "modernize" the Dirty Harry series--Dirty Harry Begins--Keanu might be the perfect choice. You know, from a taciturn, squinty standpoint. Okay, I won't bring it up again. I PROMISE, OKAY?! Jeez...

The Amateurs is one of those "Hey, kids! Let's make a porno!" movies (not unlike the Kevin Smith Zack and Miri Make a Porno coming out in a few weeks, only I hope that will be MUCH better). It has a great cast--Jeff Bridges, Glenne Headley, Lauren Graham, Ted Danson, Joe Pantoliano, Judy Greer, and William Fichtner--that makes you wonder "WTF?!" because the film isn't that great. Were they all off that week? Doing a favor for a dying friend? Donating their salaries to charity? The Amateurs has its moments--a small town band of misfits come together (okay...pun intended, guilty as charged) to make a porno film. Instead they end up with an award-winning documentary about them making a porno film. Despite the cast and the titillating (sigh...yes, again) subject matter, there's really nothing to see here, sorry to say.

Finally, there's Blue State. You have to be able to guess that a film about someone (the always forgettable Brecklin Meyer) getting so worked up about John Kerry's loss to George W. in the 2004 presidential election that he ups and moves to Canada, has to be a lousy film. Kerry wasn't worth getting that worked up over (Bush, YES). Meyer costars with Anna Paquin, as another US deserter with a secret of her own. Truth be told, I fast-forwarded through this one folks--yes, I thought it was that bad--because the cheap side of my Gemini nature will not allow me to just give up on a movie I paid to rent. Sad but true. (The Netflix envelopes now sit on my kitchen counter, waiting to be mailed, at precise right angles to the edges of said counter. But that's a whole other side...)