Fresh off helping deliver a hit with Superbad, writer-director Greg Mottola returns to the big screen with his first original script since his 1997 debut, The Daytrippers. Adventureland is rooted in autobiographical torture (Mottola worked at a Long Island amusement park while attending Columbia University), a fact that comes through in the winning construction of the movie’s idiosyncratic, slightly off-kilter tone. Even if he’s unable to wrangle the otherwise lovely and charming Kristen Stewart‘s eyes-askance lip-nibbling, or bring Jesse Eisenberg’s mannered tics fully under control, Mottola has a keen sense of detail, a deft touch with dialogue and smart taste in the casting of myriad supporting players, and these make for a mostly winning film.

It’s the summer of 1987, and James Brennan (Eisenberg, above left), an uptight comparative literature grad from Oberlin, can’t wait to embark on his dream tour of Europe with his best friend. But when his parents renege on the trip’s subsidization, James has little choice but to get a job, and spend his last summer before grad school at a seasonal amusement park operated by a loopy young married couple (Saturday Night Live‘s Bill Hader and Kristen Wiig).

Forget about German beer and reefer-infused philosophical discussions, museum wanderings and pliable French girls — James’ summer will now be defined by screaming kids high on cotton candy, soused patrons scheming to score giant stuffed pandas and an old elementary school acquaintance, Tommy Frigo (Matt Bush), who’s always running around trying to punch him in the balls. Lucky for James, he makes a quick friend in Joel Schiffman (Martin Starr), a droll, pipe-smoking game booth worker who helps initiate James into the absurd conventions and rituals of theme park life, and also gets off the movie’s best line, checking out the sway of a girl’s hips from afar: “Her ass is the platonic ideal — a higher truth. I’m telling you, I’ve had dreams about that diamond-shaped portal.”

James also finds an older mentor — and, more complicatedly, a potential romantic rival — in the park’s maintenance guy, Mike Connell (Ryan Reynolds), a local heartthrob due to the rumor that he once jammed with Lou Reed. And yes, James even inches closer to losing his virginity, discovering love — or at least highly concentrated lust — in the form of two co-workers, the captivating if slightly withdrawn Em Lewin (Stewart, above right) and dance-happy, carefree Lisa P (The Invisible‘s Margarita Levieva).

One of the more intriguing elements of the film — something hinted at and flirted with in the script, but never fully and explicitly embraced, especially by the actors — is the sense that it’s an exploration of Ms. Right Now vs. Ms. Right Right Now, if that makes sense. As appealing and largely engaging as it is on the surface, Adventureland could have struck an even deeper and more thrillingly subversive chord by tapping into the idea of one (smart) kid’s randy summer in heat — the notion of a young, sensitive guy’s quest to unburden himself of his virginity while still sealing the deal with someone who he can hold a conversation with after the fact.

The product of a warped home life with a recently deceased mother and an even more recently remarried dad, Em is a hot, vulnerable mess, which comes through in her serial acting out with Connell. Other than the fact that they both seem to be generationally restless, pointed toward New York City and of above-average intelligence, though, there’s little that realistically binds together James and Em. Even Mottola seems bored with their interactions, sticking them together and pulling them apart in a somewhat arbitrary fashion that gives the movie a fitful rhythm. These two don’t seem like a match made forever, basically. Unfortunately, Adventureland never wholly digs into that potentially provocative mutual-use premise, and Eisenberg’s Woody Allen-lite shtick isn’t hormonally charged enough to match James’ predicament. In the end, though, all this criticism is relative to what Adventureland gets right, which is a lot. With its easygoing, lived-in charms and nice supporting performances, certainly there’s a lot more good than not in the movie. It’d be an entirely suitable flick to lose your teen/twentysomething coming-of-age cherry to, in other words.

On DVD, the single-disc version of the film is presented in 1.85:1 anamorphic widescreen, and comes with motion-animated menus and a so-so slate of supplemental material. Kicking things off is a 16-minute making-of featurette in which producers Ted Hope and Anne Carey speak with effusive praise of Kennywood, the site of the production’s on-location shooting, and one of two amusement parks on the National Registry of Historic Places. Other cast and crew sit for interviews as well, and Starr, paired with Stewart, talks with a true wallflower’s painful lack of self-regard about feeling sorry for the actress who had to make out with him in the movie. There’s also a feature-length audio commentary track with Mottola and Eisenberg, and three deleted scenes , which spotlight drunken mother and angry grandfather park patrons, and showcase Wiig’s gift with deadpan delivery in such scene-capping dialogue tidbits as, “It’s Sunday — I don’t think the police are open.” Previews for Mike Judge’s forthcoming Extract and other movies round out the material. There’s also apparently a double-disc version of the movie available, on Blu-ray as well as regular DVD, so presumably the slate of bonus material on those is a bit more substantive. B+ (Movie) C+ (Disc)

Not dissimilar from something like the terrible Live Feed, another sadistic, low-grade rip-off of Hostel and the Saw flicks, Hollywood Kills is an unartful, improbably plotted and dismally executed direct-to-DVD slasher programmer which mainly serves as quiet, leave-it-off-your-reel paycheck experience for all those involved, especially some special effects and gore peddlers.

Back-slapping Texas cousins James (Happy Mahaney) and Vaughn (Matthew Scollon) hit Los Angeles, ostensibly to visit Sarah (Angela DiMarco), the former’s sister. Especially Vaughn, though, has sex on his mind. So when Sarah’s leggy, would-be actress roommate Chantelle (Gillian Shure) appears, he’s dutifully smitten. After heading out for a night on the town, the four attractive young loafers cross paths with two Hollywood players (Zack Ward, Todd Duffy) who promise them entrance into a secret “power club.” Foolishly believing their dreams of stardom only a couple cocktails away, the quartet are in for a rude awakening when the club’s director, washed-up, quietly deranged movie producer Francis Fenway (Dominic Keating), casts them in his next brutal reality horror production.

Shot on digital video, Hollywood Kills doesn’t evidence much in the way of production value, but director Sven Pape is also far too eager to prove his directorial chops, indulging in frame-manipulation and an overload of other stylistic gimmicks in an effort to paper over the incongruities and implausibilities of Nicholas David Brandt’s screenplay. Some of the script’s pre-bloodletting banter is convincingly loose-limbed, and emblematic of geographical/cultural divides that a more self-assured movie would have tried to plumb a bit more for pre-slaying tension (“You want limes?” Sarah asks, grabbing a couple beers. “For what?” James responds, confused). But Hollywood Kills is all about the stalking and slashing, which means Jigsaw-type murders (a phone that shoots a nail from its receiver into the ear of the person who answers) and a pair of Japanese twins dressed up as schoolgirls, wandering around and filming the action. It’s never convincingly explained how and why someone like Fenway would turn to such extreme measures, the acting is completely scattershot (DiMarco and a smirking Ward more or less escape with some modicum of dignity, Shure does not) and the delivery of gore not really that compelling or interesting.

Presumably commercially packaged in a regular Amray case, Hollywood Kills is presented in16x9 widescreen, with a Dolby digital stereo audio track. Though not on the clam-shell-housed review copy with which we were serviced, the final release supposedly includes the movie’s trailer, EPK interviews, a photo gallery, a (CD-ROM?) copy of the script and close-captioned subtitles. For more information, click here. To purchase the DVD via Amazon, meanwhile, click here. D- (Movie) C- (Disc, speculatively)

What killed the mighty woolly mammoths? Near the end of the last Ice Age 13,000 years
ago, these enormous beasts disappeared from North America together with
some 35 other groups of mammals, including giant ground sloths,
saber-tooth cats and American lions. Armchair anthropologists can now satisfy their appetite for answers — or at least compelling theories — with Last Extinction, an hour-long Nova special that meticulously advances some possible scenarios for their collective demise.

For four decades, debate has raged over the cause of mammoths’ abrupt demise. Offering up an in-depth investigation of a bold, semi-new hypothesis, Last Extinction suggests that a massive impact from outer space could be the culprit. According to the theory, an incoming comet broke up over North America in a devestating series of explosions, causing widespread forest fires and eradicating plants, animals and prehistoric people. The evidence comes from a mysterious “black mat” layer discovered at more than 50 geological sites across the world. This archeological layer contains exotic materials — including rare microscopic “nanodiamonds” — that many claim to be the signature of an extraterrestrial impact. But some scholars question the evidence and argue that ancient hunters armed with a lethal stone weapon, the Clovis spear point, drove the giant beasts into oblivion. Still others, meanwhile, believe the unstable climate at the end of the Ice Age* was responsible.

The staid skeleton/tusk cover doesn’t do the best job of selling this title, but Last Extinction is actually an interesting and engrossing title, one of those “edu-tainment” that explores scientific fact with plenty of talking-head authority, but also interjects enough young adult-level animation and entertains wild speculation to keep distracted minds hooked on the mystery element at play. Is it definitive in its conclusions? No, not by any means. But it lays all the facts out there, and lets experts in the field — and, by extension, viewers — chew them over, and decide what seems most likely.

Housed in a regular Amaray case, Last Extinction comes presented in widescreen enhanced for 16×9 televisions, with an English language stereo track. Honoring the DVD format circa 1997, scene selection is a touted special feature; the only other bonus tidbits are a few links pointing viewers to Nova’s web site and some printable material for educators. To purchase the DVD via PBS, click here. B (Movie) C (Disc)

* note: not the animated film series

Jew ‘fros of various size and stature are in full effect, and “Hava Nagila” is trotted out, along with an assortment of other musical cues, but the specificity of setting can’t help save let alone elevate Bart Got a Room, a thinly sketched air-quote comedy about a high school kid trying to figure out who he should ask to prom.

Written and directed by Brian Hecker, Bart Got a Room centers on Danny Stein (Steven Kaplan, above center), a Florida high school senior who’s laid out $600 on prom tickets and accouterments, but doesn’t yet have a date. With a couple months to go before the event, his good friend since early childhood, Camille (Arrested Development‘s Alia Shawkat), is a possibility, but Danny is torn as to whether to submit to her or make a more amorous play on someone else. Though they’re amiable and plugged into his life, his divorced parents still aren’t much help. Danny’s father, Ernie (William H. Macy, above left), is near broke, and kind of hapless; his practical-minded mother, Beth (Cheryl Hines, above right), is attracted to the financial stability of her boyfriend Bob (Jon Polito), who might soon be proposing. Much wheel-spinning ensues, on all fronts.

“It’s not natural,” Danny says at one point, when asked for dating advice by his dad. “I’ve got my own crisis here.” He might as well be talking about the entire movie, though, for there’s little here that evidences a natural heartbeat. Though he’s nominally presented as a slow-peddler, Danny gets a card from Camille paving the way for them to go to prom together… so he immediately hops on his bike and heads over to her house for dinner? He’s not freaked out by this relative act of aggression on her part, and doesn’t want to avoid having the conversation, as he already has been for weeks, if not months? OK, whatever. Once there, though, and after he balks at Camille’s offer, Danny then submits to a mild scolding from her mother, something no high school guy, no matter how polite or ineffectual, would endure.

Hecker’s movie is oddly de-sexualized, too, given its title. For all the focus on “getting a room,” there’s precious little talk — at least from the high schoolers themselves — about doing the deed, and that’s certainly not presented as at the heart of Danny’s hesitation at going with Camille. So what’s Danny’s deal? He likes Alice (Ashley Benson), the sophomore cheerleader whom he drives to school, and who changes outfits in his car, but the movie stupidly tells us that he’s misread all her signals/intentions, including suggestively licking an ice cream cone right after she would have turned down his prom invitation. This points to an overarching problem with Hecker’s work — the gulf between what it says and what characters in it purport that others are saying. The two rarely align.

Then there’s the manner in which the story unfolds. Danny’s interactions with his supposed best friend, Craig (Brandon Hardesty), are all limited to a single poolside location, since Craig is heavily into tanning in preparation for prom, yet this underscores another one of the movie’s big problems — namely, its limited scope and affinity for using the same set-ups over and over. In fact, from these wrongheaded interactions and stagings all the way down to interstitial bits (“Free condoms with tuxedo rental” reads a store sign, something that likely wouldn’t fly in most liberal communities, let alone a Florida retirement town) and the fact that Danny and Camille’s will-they-or-won’t-they dance plays out until literally the hour leading up to prom, Bart Got a Room is an uninterrupted string of false moments, and an underdeveloped one at that. Sans opening and closing credits, the movie barely crosses the 70-minute mark. Leave this sloppy, half-baked piece of would-be nostalgia alone; no matter traumatic your own prom, a trip down memory lane with it is time better spent.

Housed in a regular plastic Amaray case with a carved-out spindle receptacle that uses less plastic than normal cases, Bart Got a Room comes with an accompanying cardboard slipcover, and is presented in 1.85:1 anamorphic widescreen, with a Dolby 5.1 surround sound audio track and optional English SDH and Spanish subtitles. Apart from the movie’s theatrical trailer, and previews for Sex and Death 101, Kim Basinger’s While She Was Out and three other Anchor Bay home video titles, the only supplemental feature is a VH-1-style pop-up trivia track, which plays over the feature and provides anecdotal tidbits about the production and cast. Among the nuggets of information gleaned: the movie was shot in Hollywood, Florida, Hecker’s hometown; Danny’s car was secured by placing solicitations under the windshields of local clunkers; Hines’ first car was a Dodge Dart Swinger; and Hecker expressly forbade any girls from the opening shot of the band in the movie, not wanting the audience to think that there might be any romantic prospects lurking there for Danny. Like the film itself, this release is attractively packaged, but thin on insight and content. Nevertheless, to purchase the DVD via Amazon, click here; to purchase the DVD via Half, meanwhile, click here. D+ (Movie) D+ (Disc)

Bank of America CEO Ken Lewis might have been late to the financial meltdown party, but he has such a hugely unforgiving countenance, and looks so stereotypically like the face of the establishment, or “the man.” So it’s no great surprise, really, that he graces the DVD cover of Breaking the Bank, an hour-long Frontline special that delves into wonderful financial meltdown of the past two years.

The bets were hugely risky — billions of dollars on the booming housing market, insuring increasingly risky loans and credit swaps amongst other institutions. In the good times, these super-banks reaped billions of dollars in profits, and gobbled up competitors. Then the bottom dropped out and massive losses on Wall Street nearly broke the banks, leaving many teetering on the brink of failure. As the federal government contemplates what could still become a massive nationalization of the industry — and crazy FOX News viewers somehow hit reset on their meager mental counters, and affix the entire blame of the meltdown on President Obama rather than his predecessor or anyone else in either the government or the private sector — this solidly informative docu-overview from writer-director Michael Kirk (Inside the Meltdown) and reporter Jim Gilmore provides a breakdown of the complicated financial and political web that ensnared greedy and/or system-gaming, out-of-control lenders, using Bank of America as its prime example. The only glaring demerit? Failing to adequately address issues of voted-down oversight regulations that would have stemmed the disaster.

Housed in a regular plastic Amaray case, Breaking the Bank is presented in 1.78:1 anamorphic widescreen, with an English language 5.1 stereo audio track that more than adequately handles the meager aural demands of this title. There are no supplemental materials, but if you want to freak out your kids — or perhaps explain the cardboard city they’re living in 30 years hence — buy this DVD and stick it in a time capsule for them. To purchase the disc, click here. B (Movie) C (Disc)