The series has been translated into 50 languages, sold over 200 million copies and – with moviemaking megastars Steven Spielberg and Peter Jackson at the helm – spawned a movie that made $237 million in Europe before it even opened in the U.S., while being touted as a combination of Indiana Jones and “Pirates of the Caribbean.”

But will American audiences fall in love the daring boy and his dog, Snowy?

I doubt it.

“The Adventures of Tintin” is a beautiful movie … but it’s also beautifully boring.

I’m sure European audiences that know Tintin and company may appreciate the homage given to his storyline, may be thrilled to see his many swashbuckling adventures and be mesmerized by the film’s gorgeous settings and scenes.

But as a Yank with no clue who Tintin is, I found no reason to relate to this rather bland Boy Scout of a protagonist and had to suppress scoffing laughter at the preposterously perilous situations he found himself in. Knowing that Tintin was never in any real danger of being harmed by the catastrophes crashing down around him, I wasn’t really drawn to the edge of my seat, and not knowing why I should care about his success or survival, the constant adventure – without much of a mystery to solve – amounted to little more than white noise on the silver screen.

The storyline and script simply didn’t draw my empathy toward the protagonist, and it’s never a good sign when halfway through the daring deeds and chases and crashes and spills and thrills I yawn and ask, “Who cares?” No amount of pretty animation can make up for weak characters and pedestrian script.

Many other critics, I’m aware, are raving about this film. Let it serve as a caution against putting too much stock in “critics” … even me.

The film follows a young reporter in the mid-20th century Europe who happens across a model ship at a street market and after purchasing it discovers it’s coveted by all sorts of shady characters.

When some of those characters break in to Tintin’s flat and swipe the ship, the young reporter and his daring dog are off on a whirlwind adventure to discover why. His quest takes him across the high seas, through pirate lore, on to North Africa and to cellars deep and dank in a European manse in search of answers.

Unfortunately, the only motivation given for the young fellow to risk life and limb is the hunt for a story to write … for … some newspaper or something. I guess.

Now, from a worldview perspective, the film does present a hero who is curious, noble, adventurous, polite, respectful, resourceful and a bit of a throwback to the days when heroes wore white hats and you didn’t have to question their motives or fear they’d turn all selfish when the going gets rough.

But the film itself has very little to say.

In fact, when the indomitable Tintin actually does suffer a moment of doubt and resignation, it comes as such an incongruous shock and departure from his character, that I thought he was actually kidding.

Only a few moments later did I realize, “Oh, he’s serious. I guess this is where the writers decided they have to throw in a moral to the story.”

The moral, however, for all my criticism of the film, is laudable.

“Plenty are willing to call you a failure,” a character encourages the downcast Tintin, “don’t you ever say that about yourself.”

“Something you need to know about failure,” it’s said shortly thereafter, “never let it defeat you. … When you hit a wall, push through it.”

These are all noble sentiments and could have served as an inspiring motivational speech, if the audience could believe for a moment that Tintin might actually feel defeated or be in any danger of not winning the day.

Once upon a time, a much ballyhooed movie was made called “Rebel Without a Cause,” but Tintin’s “Adventures Without a Cause” just doesn’t live up to the hype.

Content advisory:

• “The Adventures of Tintin” contains only two minor profanities and no obscenities.

• The film has only two, veiled sexual references – one that might infer bestiality – both of which will be lost on all children and, frankly, most adults.

• The film is filled with chases, explosions, fistfights, gunfights, peril and violence of many sorts. There is no explicit gore, but the level of violence is still significant enough to merit caution for parents of small children.

• Though I don’t normally make comment on alcohol use, it should be noted that one of the film’s primary characters is frequently drunk and in search of more and more booze. His heavy drinking is a significant element of the plot and storyline, much more so than American audiences may be used to in animated film.

• The movie contains a couple of religious references. In one, a dying character verbally curses his adversary, which then comes to fruition in the latter character’s family tree, as his descendants suffer the curse. In the other, a statue is reverently referred to as “St. John the Evangelist, the Eagle of Patmos,” but little more is made of the reference.

When the first film starring Robert Downey Jr. as Sherlock Holmes was in previews, his reincarnation of the character as a manic, drug-ridden, buff, fist-flying action hero in the 1890s caused me to wonder if Sir Arthur Conan Doyle – who invented the crime fighter – was rolling over in his grave. But upon seeing the first movie, I was pleasantly surprised that Downey and his directors did a fine job making a fun film.

In the sequel, “A Game of Shadows,” Downey returns with a new addition: the primary ingredient missing in the first movie – a villain worthy of foiling Sherlock.

And it is the presence of Jared Harris, masterfully portraying a subtle but deliciously wicked version of Sherlock’s arch-nemesis, Professor Moriarty, that gives “A Game of Shadows” the distinction of being the rare sequel to actually be better than the original.

Though not a perfect film, often stretching credibility and sometimes losing the plotline in the effort to be too spectacular or too clever, the movie nonetheless is funny, exciting, smart and infused with just the kind of camaraderie and special effects wizardry that makes it a great guy flick, while not leaving the ladies behind.

But when Holmes and Moriarty meet, “A Game of Shadows” kicks up to a whole ‘nother level.

In a pair of scenes where the two square off, Harris pushes Downey to display some real acting chops, and the lead actor rises to the challenge.

When the fists and bullets finally come to their flurrying end – and despite the fact that you’ll realize afterward there were certain elements of the film that didn’t quite make sense – you will long remember Sherlock and Moriarty squaring off, like the cobra and the mongoose, or as the movie explains, “the most dangerous criminal and the foremost champion of the law of his generation.”

Even the worldview messages in this film show an improvement over the first.

Most of the film is simply about the bad guys vs. the good guys. There’s also a conversation about whether marriage is the beginning of a lifelong, meaningful relationship or the end of the bachelor’s freedom, but in the end, marriage is affirmed, if only because it means lifelong companionship and not having to “die alone.”

But where the worldview is really intriguing is in a few lines about the nature of man and evil.

Without giving too much away, or even revealing who said it, there are a pair of lines that affirm the very countercultural, biblical contention that humanity is at essence fallen and that human nature is not inherently good, but bent toward evil (Genesis 6:5, Jeremiah 17:9; Romans 7:18).

“Bad people do what bad people do,” says one character, not because they’re victims, not because they had bad childhoods, but “because they can.”

Even more to the point, when evil appears most thwarted, and the dawn of World War I seems to have been averted, Sherlock is reminded that his victory is short-lived.

“War on an industrial scale is only a few years away,” Sherlock is told. “You’re not fighting me so much as you’re fighting human nature.”

Really? Human nature is inevitably inclined toward destruction and war? Or is that just evil talking?

Actually, that’s the Bible talking. That’s history talking. That’s truth talking. And sure enough, war on an industrial scale did break out, about 20 years later.

“Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows” should fare well with most audiences, not only because it’s highly entertaining and memorable, but also … because it rings true.

Content advisory:

• “Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows” contains a half-dozen profanities and minor obscenities.

• The film contains no sex scenes but has a few innuendos, some nude statues, an odd scene where Dr. Watson wrestles with a cross-dressing (in disguise) Holmes and a comic scene where Sherlock’s overweight brother walks about a room naked, to the embarrassment of a young woman in his presence. His bare torso and behind are seen at length.

• The film contains a fairly heavy amount of violence, typical for an action film, including knife and fist fights, gun shots, wounds, artillery fire and bloodshed of various kinds. The gore is primarily limited to various injuries sustained by Holmes and depicts some gruesomeness when Dr. Watson must surgically repair Holmes.

• The film has little religious or occult content, though there is a scene where Holmes has a discussion with a gypsy fortune teller and uses Tarot cards to further the conversation. There are also some opera characters dressed as demons and a character who drops into a meditative, lotus position.

“Ashton Kutcher and Zach Efron lead the cast?” they’ll say. “Bah! I’m sure its just the kind of cotton candy that only a teenaged groupie could love.”

Halle Berry, Robert De Niro, Michelle Pfeiffer, Alyssa Milano, Jessica Biel, Seth Myers, Katherine Heigl, Jon Bon Jovi, Lea Michele, James Belushi, Sarah Jessica Parker, Abigail Breslin and on it goes – I either just whetted your appetite for the red carpet or convinced you this movie has more plastic surgeons on staff than scriptwriters.

But to be completely cynical about “New Year’s Eve” would do the film a disservice.

Yes, it does pack too many celebrities in to adequately develop characters. Yes, it is like a People magazine on the silver screen.

But it’s like People magazine permanently parked on 2 Timothy 1:7.

“For God hath not given us the spirit of fear,” 2 Timothy 1:7 says, “but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.”

And the entire message of “New Year’s Eve” is a challenge to overcome fear, usually with the power of forgiveness, for the sake of love.

As for the sound mind part? Um … OK. Maybe not.

True, “New Year’s Eve” isn’t a particularly good movie. It isn’t well-written, it’s rarely funny enough to earn the title of “comedy” and it really does suffer for trying to cram too many storylines into one script.

But not everyone on board with this project was willing to make a stinker of a celeb-fest.

Michelle Pfeiffer, for example, turns in a very convincing performance as Ingrid, a frustrated, mousey secretary who has lived a wasted life with a list of New Year’s resolutions she’s never endeavored to fulfill. But when desperation leads her to fulfill resolution No. 1 – “Quit my job” – Ingrid begins to cast off the shackles of fear and actually live her life.

Halle Berry and Cherry Jones also stand out as actresses who play their respective roles with heart.

And while the script flirted with the humanist mantra of “following your heart, following your dreams,” as though self-actualization were the chief end of man, I couldn’t help but be encouraged by something more.

“New Year’s Eve is all about another chance,” says Hilary Swank in a somewhat syrupy but still poignant speech, “a chance to forgive.”

When her character later takes her own advice, it demonstrates the healing power of forgiveness.

The film’s final narrative further affirms love and hope.

But it was the words of the redeemed playboy character in the film that packed the most punch.

Standing before an audience of people his father once addressed, the young man gives a speech reminiscent of “carpe diem” that resonates all the stronger for having Ingrid’s battle with her own fear and insecurity as the backdrop.

“What would you do today if you knew you would not fail?” he asks. “Now go out and do it. … I know it’s risky. Go out and do it anyway.”

For all the fears we harbor, the ones we face and refuse to face, “New Year’s Eve” presents a bold challenge: When we live in fear, we aren’t really living at all.

Content advisory:

• “New Year’s Eve” contains roughly 20 profanities and obscenities, though they rarely intrude on the script.

• The film contains very little violence, limited to a woman who (twice) slaps a man across the face and mild car accident.

• The film contains no sex scenes, but that doesn’t mean the film is mild on sexuality. As several of the characters are involved in romantic relationships, and as a fair amount of the film is about who will kiss whom on New Year’s Eve, there are dozens of sex jokes and innuendos. Several females in the film dress to show off curves and cleavage. While there’s no attempt to flirt with an R rating in the film, the humor is far more TV sitcom than Sunday morning.

• The film has some minor religious themes, including an Eastern spiritist midwife who leads her pregnant patient in meditation exercises, her Hindu medallion and a generic, church wedding scene. There is also a pastor and his family who “adopt” a wealthy playboy bachelor for a long road trip, and their casual but friendly faith is actually portrayed as positive and has a healthy effect on the bachelor.

And while it’s easy to get so lost in nostalgia over “The Muppet Show” – which won four primetime Emmys in five seasons during the late ’70s – that we overlook its flaws, the Jim Henson magnum opus nonetheless stood out even when it was new as a lovable, kid-friendly, values-affirming half hour of music, laughter and fun.

Imagine how such a TV show would stand out in primetime now.

That’s exactly the underlying theme of “The Muppets,” a new movie in theaters this weekend that is being showered in praise from both parents and kids alike.

Αt the theater where I saw “The Muppets,” children afterward literally leaped out of their seats after the final credits and began dancing – yes, dancing – in the aisles. Some of their parents may have felt the same way.

With TV today so polluted by such garbage as “The Playboy Club,” “Fear Factor” and “Desperate Housewives,” it’s no wonder “The Muppets” is being received as such a breath of fresh air.

The movie begins in a very “Ozzie and Harriet” small town in the ’70s, following the childhoods of Gary and his (adopted?) Muppet brother, Walter. But while the town is idyllic, Walter’s life as a Muppet among humans is trying, and he finds comfort and comraderie only in watching “The Muppet Show” on television.

Fast-forward 30 years, and Gary and Walter still live together, but Gary is wooing his girlfriend of 10 years, Mary.

When Gary, Mary and Walter take a long-anticipated trip to Los Angeles, however, poor Walter is stunned to learn that “The Muppet Show” lives on only in reruns, the Muppets themselves have dispersed and an evil oil baron is poised to tear down the old Muppet Theater to drill for oil.

Walter tracks down the Muppet leader, Kermit, and pleads with him to assemble the old gang for a reunion show telethon to raise money to buy back the old theater.

But, as the TV executives tell the reunited Muppets, “In this market, you’re no longer relevant.”

In fact, the film satirizes what is considered cool and “relevant” on TV these days, through a fictitious show called “Punch Teacher.”

Can the old-school Muppets show this cynical, value-less new world that there’s still a place for music and laughter and things like faith, hope and love? And Muppets?

That question is the primary theme and message of “The Muppets,” a direct allusion to the real world of the entertainment business. Indeed, the makers of “The Muppets” realize that today’s TV landscape is a sort of “Paradise Lost,” where something has gone wrong with what America puts out on primetime.

The film itself is funny and endearing. It doesn’t take itself seriously, but spoofs its idyllic-world genre and fills the screen with syrupy sweet moments and ’80s throwbacks that make it every bit as much a movie for Mom and Pop as it is for Junior. No, it’s no Oscar candidate, but the acting is fine, the music is fun and it’s very entertaining.

Αs for its messages, there’s some generic stuff about “believing in yourself” and sticking up for your friends and growing up and learning to love – a fairly innocent and fun movie for the whole family.

My only criticism of the film is that it may not realize just how significant of an issue it has touched upon. Something did go wrong with what America puts out on primetime. But the TV listings are only the symptom, not the real problem.

When the U.S. government, via the Supreme Court, decided God was no longer “relevant” – for that matter not even allowed in America’s schools – it began a societal shift that left more than “Ozzie and Harriet” in the dust.

By removing the antidote, the Supreme Court allowed the poison of fallen human nature to run wild in the veins of American culture, and “The Muppet Show” was only one of many parts of that culture to die off from the venom.

I applaud Disney for making a throwback film like “The Muppets,” and I’d encourage ticket buyers to consider patronizing it. But it’s going to take more than “remember the good old days” to put our culture back on track; it’s going to take Divine intervention.

Content advisory:

• “The Muppets” contains one profanity – “oh, my God” – and one near-obscenity, “What the wakka?”
• The film does have a bit more violence than one might expect, including a fist fight at an anger management class, some of the explosions and falling Muppets that were common on the old TV show and a human character who falls from a tower and is later struck by a bowling ball. There’s some other slapstick violence and a somewhat violent kidnapping, but most is for comic, not graphic, effect.
• The film has some minor sexuality, including including some swimsuit clad folks on the beach of Cannes, France, some Las Vegas-like dancing girls, a “kissy-kissy” offscreen from Ms. Piggy and a bit of leg and cleavage shown by Mary. Two Muppets are seen kissing after the lights come back on, and Kermit tells another Muppet to “picture the audience naked,” which leads to seeing the audience in their undergarments. There is also a quick scene where Ms. Piggy assaults Jack Black, and she lands with her legs spread across his face. While not necessarily sexual, it’s an unneccessary camera shot.
• The film’s only religious content is a scene where Animal must decide between an “angel” and a “devil” on his shoulder. In a pre-film cartoon, however, there is a lizard wizard character and a mermaid goddess called “Neptuna,” though neither of these are inherently occultic.

And while the penguin flick is far from a classic, its message for families was stunningly countercultural, unexpected, biblically sound and, frankly, inspiring.

In a world of entertainment today that deems “Father Knows Best” as an antiquated, misogynistic premise and instead portrays men as bumbling fools, the pro-Pop message of “Happy Feet 2″ is a healthy breath of fresh air.

To be fair, there’s a lot not to like about the somewhat flat and anemic “Happy Feet 2,” beginning with its bland storyline, forced musical numbers and lack of laughs. It too often feels like a sequel merely for sequel’s sake, as though it were thrown together on the back of a napkin, rather than crafted by a true storyteller.

The film is further set against a backdrop of melting glaciers, polar bears losing their homes and human pollution, all of which advances the global warming agenda, though the film does mercifully refrain from moralizing on the topic.

Nonetheless, “Happy Feet 2″ threatens to undo decades of the most underhanded work of militant feminism … and for that, it should be praised.

The film follows the travails of young Erik the penguin, a outcast little fellow who doesn’t fit in with his musical, dancing family.

Despite his father’s insistence that he will find his own gifting in time and that it’s OK not to fit in, the little fuzzball looks up instead to another outcast who determines to leave the penguin colony and set out on his own.

When that mentor fails him, Erik finds another hero, a smooth-talking, megachurch, guru penguin named Sven, who inspires a massive congregation of eager worshippers toward positive thinking and good deeds.

For a significant part of the film, Sven is a dazzling star, and the story would bait you into believing the boy is lost to his mesmerizing ways.

But when Sven turns out to be a charlatan, it would seem Erik has no one left to look up to.

Yet subtly, over and over in the film, when the chips are down and the elephant seal, or the penguin colony or even Erik’s life is in danger, there is one character who comes through again and again. There’s one character who gives of himself, risks himself, does what is right and is willing to move all heaven and earth to save those he loves.

So it is finally that when little Erik does discover his gift (I won’t spoil what that is), he uses it to declare, “My hero: my father!”

I’ll admit, I didn’t see it coming. I’m so accustomed to children’s films preaching that parents are misguided, stupid, don’t understand or all of the above, that it floored me to hear little Erik’s impassioned speech in praise of his pop.

It also stuns the other characters in the scene, and it proves the pivotal moment that enables the film to move toward its triumphant ending (and a fantastic musical number!).

Content advisory:

• “Happy Feet 2″ contains no profanities or obscenities.

• The film contains some mild, romantic (though not overtly sexual) innuendo and one male character telling another there will be no “hanky panky” between them.

• The movie contains some slapstick violence, falling, animals fighting and one scene where a leopard seal ravenously chases a penguin through the water. There is also an animated Tweety Bird short preceding the movie that is graphically violent in the ways Sylvester’s attempts at capturing Tweety are thwarted.

• The film’s religious content is limited to a reference to “millions of years” of evolution and the somewhat church-like ways in which the characters sing the praise of Sven in a sort of black choir-styled song. Sven also preaches a positive-thinking doctrine of “If you want it, you must will it; if you will it, it will be yours” that young audience members may not recognize as empty and may even be tempted to imitate.

Like many in the audience going to see “J. Edgar,” the new biopic film about John Edgar Hoover, I am too young to have known the iconic lawman before his death in 1972.

But unlike many going to see this film, I’ve studied enough history to know when I’m getting conned.

As the first director of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, a position he held for over 40 years, Hoover’s life may have been more filled with intrigue, excitement and insider machinations than any American’s in the 20th century.

For example, Hoover was at the heart of the gangster wars of the 1930s, leading his G-Men in open warfare against such notorious figures as John Dillinger and Machine Gun Kelly.

But that’s not what “J. Edgar” focuses on. Dillinger is a mere cameo in the movie and Kelly a sidebar to the real story of the film.

The real Hoover built the FBI into an efficient crime-fighting machine, credited with creating the national fingerprint database and forensic sciences, the staple thrillers of today’s most popular television shows. And while “J. Edgar” does dramatize these innovations, that’s not the heart of this story either.

The real Hoover rose to national prominence on the tails of one of America’s most captivating and mysterious crimes: the kidnapping of Charles A. Lindbergh, Jr.

Yet while “J. Edgar” makes the Lindbergh baby case its primary backdrop, it’s still not the main thrust of what the movie has to say.

Despite the wealth of material from which to draw a movie about Hoover, the makers of “J. Edgar” decided to make a film all about … homosexuality.

As a film, “J. Edgar” is engaging, largely because of fantastic performances, especially from Naomi Watts and Leonardo DiCaprio, who makes a strong run at his fourth Academy Award nomination in the title role.

And while its time-skipping jaunt through Hoover’s life is at times confusing and saps the film’s momentum, there’s no denying “J. Edgar” is a well-made movie.

But audiences looking for a dramatized, riveting history of the FBI … will be sorely disappointed by “J. Edgar.”

Audiences hoping to see an intrigue-laced film about a man busting the bad guys, maneuvering through Washington, D.C.’s shark-infested waters and battling organized crime … will likewise wonder why they bought a ticket.

For the primary thing Hoover battles in “J. Edgar” is not crime, but repressed sexuality.

The film portrays Hoover as a man painfully awkward around women, desperately seeking male affirmation and drawn to his lifelong companion, Clyde Tolson.

In real life, Hoover and Tolson were uncommonly close, vacationed together, ate together and were even buried near one another after Tolson inherited Hoover’s estate. It’s fairly common for biographers to speculate they were more than just bosom buddies.

But “J. Edgar” not only speculates, it weaves its entire story around the evolution of Hoover’s sexuality from awkward young man to “gay” old man.

Hints get dropped throughout the movie, most notably in a scene where Hoover resolves not to dance with women, only to have his mother, a powerful apron-strings influence in his life, tell him, “I’d rather have a dead son than a daffodil [meaning, effeminate or homosexual].”

The scene plays powerfully, as the narrative implies his mother’s one pronouncement shoves Hoover’s sexuality so far “into the closet” that it can never fully emerge.

The holding hands, the obvious longings of Tolson, Hoover’s donning of his mother’s clothes after her death, the fight after which Tolson kisses Hoover, and so forth, make the homosexual tones a prominent theme of the film.

But is it fair to say it’s the point of the movie?

Ultimately, a good story is about the characters, not just the plot or the scene or the setting. And “J. Edgar” is a good story, set against the lawman’s setting of crime and government and espionage. The evolution of Hoover’s character through the amazing historical circumstances, therefore, is the enduring essence of the film.

And how does Hoover’s character evolve?

By the end of the film, he can freely admit he “loves” Tolson, kisses him on the forehead and upon his death, leaves all he has to his male companion. The film then ends with Tolson reading a letter from Hoover’s secret files, taking comfort in the words of a letter from Eleanor Roosevelt’s “gay” lover.

In the end, the lasting impression audiences are left with is not the tremendous historical contribution of Hoover – for good or ill – or even his fierce dedication to justice and county, but the “beauty” of an enduring homosexual love affair, one filled with love and friendship, but without any of the actual sodomy that might, understandably, turn audiences off. Yes, isn’t “gay” love lovely and pure and noble and virtuous?

For everything “J. Edgar” could have been, it ended up merely another Hollywood fantasy dressed up in history’s clothes.

Content advisory:

• “J. Edgar” contains roughly a half dozen profanities and obscenities.
• The film also contains several scenes of crime-related violence, including a bombing, a scene of police brutality, a sniper killing people from the rooftops, gunfire and so forth. In one scene, the badly decomposed body of Lindbergh’s baby is shown; in another, Hoover and Tolson fight and wrestle. In a pair of scenes shown in the film of an old James Cagney movie, a man repeatedly strikes a woman.
• The film contains no nudity, but does have some heavy sexual elements in it, including a scene where Hoover listens to a recording of a couple having sex, including rather explicit sounds and the shadows of their bodies against the wall. Discussions of affairs, some heavy flirting and discussion of homosexuality are present. Throughout the film, Tolson’s attraction to Hoover is obvious, culminating in a man-on-man kiss.
• The film’s only religious or occult references are vague, including a mention of “faith,” a line about “sinners” and a mention of “love” as the “greatest force on earth.” All mentions are brief and theologically unspecific.

Picture the dance this way: First, the culture produces artists who are products of their times and popular values (culture leading the dance), then the waltz swings round as those artists take the society’s worldview to its next logical step and pull the culture’s morays even further forward (artists, and hence movies, leading the dance). Then the process repeats itself, round and round, each dancer taking their turn pulling the other along in a circular sort of leapfrog motion that spins wildly, if lopsidedly, down the floor.

If you imagine a small man trying to swing an Olympic hammer that’s too heavy for him, you might see how first one pulls the other forward, then the opposite takes the lead, but until that man lets go of the hammer, it’s going to be a wild, spinning ride.

In real life, you can see this with Barack Obama, class warfare and the Occupy Wall Street movement:

First, Obama preached to America a loud message of anti-rich, class warfare sentiment (leading the dance), then the Occupiers arose and shouted about the wealthy 1 percent vs. the remaining 99, requiring the president, in turn, to respond to this mass uprising (the Occupiers leading the dance). And so the circle goes, ever lurching forward.

So perhaps it’s little surprise that Hollywood is both reflecting and leading this lurching resentment toward the rich, as evidenced by the last week’s heavy handed “In Time,” or this week’s theater release, a much lighter fare called “Tower Heist.”

For the most part, “Tower Heist” is a harmless – if a bit obscene – Hollywood comedy starring Ben Stiller, Alan Alda and Eddie Murphy.

Murphy makes a sort of return in this film, reprising his popular ’80s persona as a fast-talking, foul-mouthed comedian who – if the obscenities don’t turn you off – can be side-splittingly funny.

The film follows Stiller as Josh Kovacs (no relation to WND Executive News Editor Joe Kovacs, though one could draw similarities between the two), a bright and resourceful manager of New York City’s most prestigious residential highrise, The Tower.

In the penthouse suite lives Arthur Shaw (played by Alda), a investing magnate who pulls a Bernie Madoff-style fraud on his investors that wipes out all of their savings, including the retirement funds of the entire staff of The Tower.

Kovacs, blaming himself for trusting Shaw with the staff’s pension money, then works with a cast of disgruntled Tower employees – and “experienced” thief and street thug Slide, played by Murphy – to steal from Shaw the $20 million that he has reportedly hid in his penthouse suite.

The resulting mayhem is part “Oceans 11″ and part throwback ’80s comedy, complete with Matthew Broderick and a classic, red Ferrari.

The film is suprisingly funny – even though too much of it is juvenile, sex-strewn and unnecessarily obscene – and fairly well made, with a few surprises and some clever ideas thrown into an entertaining, popcorn muncher of a movie.

Unfortunately, the filmmakers couldn’t help but spend some time “dancing” in class warfare, not content to merely make the bad guy a Madoff, but putting some scathing lines and scenes in that only perpetuate the idea that the wealthy are evil, and the masses – the 99 percent – are their victims.

One line talks about the Tower staff, suggesting they are “peasants [who] take everything from the feudal lords.”

In another scene, the evil rich man scoffs at his staff, saying, “You people are just clock punchers, easily replaced.”

Though why Shaw commissions a massive potrait of Mao Zedong in his penthouse is strangely odd.

While not as heavy as it could have been, the class warfare in the movie is enough to reinforce loathing for the rich and the notion that it’s noble to steal from them. In the end, the real “heist” is not just $20 million, but a subtle swiping of the hearts and minds of Americans away from the Founding Fathers’ ideals of freedom and opportunity, a crime that would send the young, impressionable and undiscerning one more dance step down the floor toward Bolshevism.

Content advisory:

• “Tower Heist” contains roughly 80 profanities and obscenities, most used casually and for comedic effect.

• Though the movie has no romantic storyline, no sex scene and no nudity (save for an abstract piece of art and a Victoria’s Secret model in lingerie), many of the jokes are lewd and laced with innuendo. Much of the humor is sex-related, sometimes juvenile, sometimes outright bawdry. There is also a scene that discusses and makes light of lesbianism.

• The film’s violence consists of a pair of fairly tame car chases, the smashing of a car with a golf club, some drawn guns and one character knocked unconscious. There are no killings, significant fights or bloodshed.

• The movie’s religious and occult content is limited to one character who crosses herself before cracking a safe and shouts “Hallelujah” at a stroke of good fortune.

But just because we can agree on the problem, doesn’t mean we can agree on the solution.

The tea partiers, for example, believe the sulution is to reduce the size and power of Big Government (and to enforce the kinds of constitutional constraints that would limit both monied influence and federal overreach).

The occupiers believe the solution is to … well … they haven’t exactly agreed upon that just yet. But give them time; it seems their answer is to make Big Government bigger, under the delusion, frankly, that a socialist government … will somehow be too big for moneyed interests to control? Not that that’s a logical conclusion, but that seems to be where this is going.

It’s just the kind of fallacy that is easily embraced by inexperienced and idealistic young people who have been subjugated to the indoctrination of academia.

So it seems fitting that in the new film, “In Time,” where every character is exactly 25 years old, Hollywood would unveil a radical, messianic socialist to take on the evil rich people and fulfill the mostly young occupiers’ wildest dreams.

In the future of “In Time,” humans have been genetically modified to live to exactly 25 years old, before a clock implanted in the forearm ticks down every person’s last year of life.

People can buy, sell, earn, borrow and gamble for more time, however, creating a form of currency that is literally life and death.

In this future world, the very rich live in posh circumstance for centuries, while the poor live day-to-day – literally – in the slums.

Throughout “In Time,” however, the dog-eat-dog world of capitalism is treated as a zero sum game (an economic lie believed and perpetrated by the political left), where there are only so many minutes to go around, and one man becomes rich only at the expense of another man’s life.

In such a world, “In Time” identifies the enemy, even names it point-blank, as “Darwinist capitalism,” defined in economic terms as “survival of the fittest” and “only the strong survive,” literally.

Even many tea partiers, at least many Christians in the bunch, would agree that Darwinism is an enemy to ethical society, and an amoral Darwinism in economics gives excuse to irresponsible greed.

But though we may agree upon the enemy, “In Time” presents the solution in the form of a radical socialist neither Christian nor tea partier could support.

“Is it really stealing,” the film’s hero asks, “if [the time] is already stolen?”

With such a justification, the hero then goes on a rampage to make the evil rich “share” their time with everyone, by force if necessary.

The rest of the film goes on to demonize the rich, glamorize stealing from them and preach populist redistribution of wealth – a perfect socialist propaganda film.

For example, when the rich girl has most of her time stolen by thugs and faces imminent death, the hero from the ghetto turns to her and says with a snide tone, “Let me guess: Now you like the idea of sharing.”

To make matters even worse, the film includes obvious parallels to a messianic theme (perhaps symbolic of the false contention that Jesus was a socialist?), because the hero is frequently portrayed, for no apparent reason, as the Son of Sharing.

“I heard another man talk like that,” the hero is told, “but you were probably too young to remember your father.”

But let’s introduce a bit of truth into this Hollywood fantasy: Redistributing wealth from the rich to the poor is not “sharing,” it’s government-sanctioned theft.

The Bible is an advocate of real sharing, voluntary sharing; in fact, it commands it, commends it and exemplifies it (Acts 2:44-45, which is far from the communist mantra many make it out to be). But the biblical purpose of government is to punish evil and commend the good (1 Peter 2:14), not to steal people’s property in order to create socioeconomic equality.

So while we may agree that Darwinist economics, greed and a society devoid of ethics are the collective “bad guy,” the solution presented by “In Time” cannot be commended by a Christian worldview.

Despite decent acting and great scriptwriting, “In Time” is just too warped in worldview to recommend.

Content advisory:

• “In Time” contains about a dozen profanities and obscenities, rarely intrusive on the script.
• The film, filled with nubile 25-year-olds, is naturally long on short skirts, barechested men and cleavage. There’s some kissing, some dancing and a couple of references to prostitution. A pair of characters go skinny dipping, with some partially obscured nudity seen through the water. In the film’s steamiest scene, a game of strip poker leads to a quick disrobing of a female character into her undergarments and an embrace that would normally lead to a sex scene, but it’s interrupted by events.
• The film has a fair amount of gunfire and car chases and foot chases, some thuggery and several killings. Rarely gratuitous or gory, however, most of the violence advances the story rather than revel in bloodshed.
• Outside of the parallels mentioned above, the only significant religious or occult reference in the film is an urban “mission” that gives away time to the needy.

Its masterful use of 3-D camera work easily joins the ranks of “Avatar” and “Legend of the Guardians” atop the pantheon of the most spectacular movies ever made with the fledgling technology.

Furthermore, its magnificent sets and luxurious costuming are over-the-top stunning, with rich, vibrant colors and gaudy architecture strutting with 17th century opulence – a masterpiece on film worthy of an Academy Award.

The film’s clever computer graphics and coreographed ballet of swordfighting add a fun touch to what you’d think – from everything I’ve written so far – would be a fantastic, popcorn-munching, moviegoer treat.

But buyer beware.

All that glitters is not gold. And, to move away from the cliché to a more apropos metaphor, just because Hollywood offers you an apple that’s all round and red and shiny – “pleasing to the eye,” as Genesis 3:6 describes – doesn’t mean you should give into temptation and take a bite.

For starters, despite all its visual eye candy, “The Three Musketeers” has one of the most droll, cliché, unimaginative and frankly boring scripts on display this year.

It’ bad. It’s laughably bad. “Mystery Science Theater 3000″ bad.

And while the actors might have talent, with no lines to work with and very little wit in the story, all the swordfighting and explosions and vivid colors can’t fill the void of character and creativity that sucks nearly all enjoyment out of this film.

The movie starts out promising, suggesting part “Zorro,” part “National Treasure,” part “Mission Impossible.” It even follows the storyline of Alexandre Dumas’ novel – the original “Les Trois Mousquetaires” – fairly well … for a while.

About an hour into it, however, I was fighting to keep my eyelids open.

But there’s another apple offered by “The Three Musketeers,” a tempting fruit that looks pleasing to the eye, while holding within it death: The moral of the story.

The film follows closely the disillusioned cynicism of the betrayed Musketeer Athos, who has fallen on hard and drunken times, believing that nothing – not country, not honor, not even a woman – is worth fighting for anymore.

Yet at the movie’s climax, when his young apprentice, D’Artagnan, must make a critical choice, Athos resolves that there may yet be something that can rouse a Musketeer to battle:

No, it’s still not country or patriotism. “France will take care of itself,” he says.

No, it’s still not honor or valor or even revenge.

“Life’s too d— short,” he concludes, “not to have someone to keep you warm at night.”

In other words – and other words are needed, because the script is pathetic – what’s worth fighting for is the avoidance of loneliness and an opportunity for love. I guess it’s a woman after all.

The inherent worldview in this moral is romanticism. Not to be confused with being “romantic,” romanticism is the belief that what is good and right – and thus, worth fighting for – is best determined by the heart, what “feels” right.

First popularized in reaction to the rationalism that pervaded the Industrial Revolution, romanticism claims what’s true is not what’s logical, not what can be proven by science, not what is revealed by a god or authority, but what “feels” true. Taken to its natural conclusion, romanticism gave birth to relativism, the abandonment of absolute truth and the disregard for the One who claimed “I am the Way, the Truth and the Life” (John 14:6).

And in “The Three Musketeers,” there’s no reason to be true to God – for the church and its leader, Cardinal Richelieu, are the villains – and no reason to be true to country, for nations are nothing but the petty playthings of kings. Be true instead to to your friends, to yourself.

It’s all so perfectly postmodern. “Be true to yourself” – it’s practically Disney. It’s pervasive and convincing. After all, it “feels” right. Perhaps that’s why so many today live by a romanticist mantra.

But just as humanity’s bite into the fruit that was “pleasing to the eye” brought sickness and death into the world, so too romanticism offers a temptation the consequences of which are separation from God and the decay of society.

For what “feels” right is very often at odds with what is right, and truth is not relative, but revealed to us by God, through His Spirit, in His Son and in His Word. And there are things worth fighting for; there is purpose, there is meaning to life – and a piece of meaningless fluff like “The Three Musketeers” does a bit of the serpent’s work to dress its romanticist lies in such a pretty package.

Content advisory:

• “The Three Musketeers” contains about a dozen profanities and obscenities.
• The film is, naturally, quite violent, with swordfights, cannonfire, pistol shots and battles and killings of dozens upon dozens of men and women. There is, however, a clear intent to avoid blood or gore, which makes hardly any appearance despite a hundred or more blade wounds in the film.
• Outside of some flirting, kissing and a couple of innuedos, the film has very little sexuality. The ladies in the movie, however, wear bodices that boost and reveal thir cleavage. Lots and lots of cleavage. Gratuitous cleavage. One woman also shows a lot of leg in a couple of scenes.
• One of the Musketeers in the film had once studied to be a priest. At one point, he recites the Lord’s Prayer before assassinating someone, and a conversation is had about him praying for his victims. He says they deserved death, but they also deserve peace. In one of the film’s few poignant lines, he explains, “I realized being a manopf God and a man of the cloth aren’t always the same thing.” There is also a theme throughout the film that the cardinal is the villain and all his henchmen wear crosses. At one point, one of his ships has a skeleton wearing a crown and wielding a cross as its masthead. There isn’t necessarily a theme that the church is evil, however, only this particular church leader, and there is no overt occult content.

And while his newest film, “The Big Year,” isn’t quite on the same level as those other offerings, the oddly titled movie on an even odder subject – “birding” – nonetheless delivers some thought-provoking, encouraging and even convicting messages on marriage and family.

Joining Martin in the lead roles of “The Big Year” are wild child comedian Jack Black and “Wedding Crasher” Owen Wilson.

At first it might seem strange to think of Black and Wilson in a PG-rated, positive-message movie, until you realize the comedians have also – in addition to some fairly raunchy garbage – been the stars of such family fare as “Kung Fu Panda,” “Ice Age,” “Cars” and “Night at the Museum.”

And when the comic trio – along with a deep cast of recognizable names like John Cleese, Brian Dennehy, Anjelica Huston and Dianne Wiest – take on a touching story of how much a man will give up to chase a dream, and how the women in his life either will or won’t support him, the resulting themes are sincere and insightful.

In fact, watching the three men of “The Big Year” making life decisions and living with the consequences is almost as impactful as watching the five fathers in this fall’s Christian cinematic sermon, “Courageous.”

Almost.

“The Big Year” follows three bird enthusiasts who each set out to witness in person as many species of birds in North America as possible in a single year, a competitive venture known in “birding” as having a “big year.” To accomplish the feat, the men must leave behind jobs and families to travel the country tallying species of birds – both common and rare – by the hundreds.

Martin plays a successful, wealthy businessman at the end of his career who has always dreamed of having a “big year” and is now, finally, going to go for it.

Black plays a divorced, lowly cubicle worker living in his parents’ home, a naturally talented “birder” who believes he can be the best, if only his dad would get off his case about chasing his real passion.

Wilson plays the world’s record holder in “birding,” a man obsessed with holding the title who has sacrificed two marriages on the altar of his sport and is endangering his third.

An important side note in the film is the way the women in these men’s lives treat their hobby … sport … obsession … whatever it is.

Wilson’s wife tolerates his fanaticism but is crying out for him to let it go and stay home; Black is trying to woo a gal who shares his “birding” passion; Martin’s wife is a paragon of wise, supportive (and dare I say, biblical) wifehood:

“Carpe annum,” she encourages him. He’s worked his whole life, always putting family first, and now it’s time for him to take a year, a whole year, to chase his dream. She’ll miss him, but she insists he doesn’t put it off even one more day.

“That’s it?” he asks. “Complete support? You’re not going to try to stop me?”

“You’ve been dreaming of this since you were a little boy,” she answers. “I’m not going to stand in the way of your greatest passion.”

He smiles at her meaningfully: “Not my greatest passion.”

Despite casting comics in so many roles, the movie isn’t nearly as funny as I expected. None of the actors were really asked to stretch much, and there’s no Oscar material here. But “The Big Year” does pull on some big heart strings and is all at once delightfully quirky and charming.

In the end, “The Big Year” is a story about just how far a man will go, and what sacrifices he will make, to chase … whatever it is men chase.

“This is what I’m good at,” one of the men insists. “This is what I’ll be remembered for.”

Really? And how will your wife and children remember you?

“This is like my calling,” one “birder” tries to explain.

“I let other things get in the way,” grieves yet another.

No simple morality play, the film allows the audience to chew a bit on the men’s stories without wrapping it up with a neat bow. Notably, “The Big Year” doesn’t take the ’90s-man, feminist mantra that boys need to stop being boys, that men need to stop being men and be nannies instead.

“If men stop competing,” the wise wife declares, “they die.”

But it does challenge and exhort men to look at their priorities.

One of the film’s final lines says it best, when the final numbers come in and the best “birder” is reveald: “He got more birds, but we got more everything. Only he knows the price he paid to be the greatest.”

That’s the kind of line that sticks with you, the kind of writing that “Courageous” was sorely lacking and makes “The Big Year” one of the most suprisingly good movies I’ve seen this year.

Content advisory:

• “The Big Year” contains about a dozen minor obscenities and profanities.

• The film’s violent content is mild, limited to some hunters shooting birds, a bit of slapstick mishap, a car crash and some fish being chopped up (played for a bit of intentional “gross” effect).

• The film also has very little sexual content, but there is some cleavage, some characters who walk around in a towel and the discussion of a wife theoretically having an affair. In one scene a woman is shown injecting her upper bare buttock with fertility hormones and she comments about it. In another scene a married couple make out passionately on a bed, but are interrupted before they disrobe or get too serious.

• The film’s only religious or occult content is somewhat incidental: a couple characters who make the hard rock hand sign, an event joked about as an “act of God,” music singing “this little light of mine” and another song singing something about “St. Peter.”