As cool as a jazz riff from a tenor sax, this stylish and powerful thriller has it all — consistently absorbing characters, twisty dialogue and an even twistier story, and action that engages the heart as it thumps a little faster.

Max (Jamie Foxx) is a cab driver who begins his shift by wiping off the dashboard and putting his favorite picture on the visor. He takes his job seriously. When an accomplished and beautiful fare (Jada Pinkett Smith as Annie) tries to direct his route, he bets her the price of the trip that his way is faster, and he’s right, down to the minute.

She is impressed with him, and we are, too. He is used to being underestimated. He dreams of a limo company that makes each ride a perfect oasis from stress. But he is as careful in planning his future as he is in planning his routes. Maybe more so. He has had this temporary job for twelve years.

Max’s next fare is a silver-haired man in a gray suit, carrying a briefcase. He offers Max $600 to stay with him all night, through five stops. Max turns him down at first; it’s against the rules. But then he says yes. He takes the fare to his first stop. Vince goes inside while Max waits for him. And then a dead body hits the roof of his cab.

Max has picked up a hit man named Vince (Tom Cruise). Vince’s five stops are people he has been hired to kill. Can Max save any of them? Can he save himself?

When Max asks if Vince killed the man who fell on the car, Vince cooly responds, “No, I shot him. The bullets and the fall killed him.” Max cannot believe that Vince shot someone he did not even know. “What, I should only kill people after I get to know them?” Now that Max knows what Vince is doing, it’s time for “Plan B.” Vince will have to keep Max very close by to get the job done.

In the long night ahead, Vince and Max will test each other and even weirdly bond a little bit, as Vince, though clearly planning to kill Max at the end of the night, can’t help giving him advice on pursuing his dreams and Max, clearly planning to stop Vince any way he can, can’t help doing his responsible best, even trying to get Vince’s approval. And Vince can’t help trying to teach Max to be more assertive, even though it is in his own interests to keep him compliant.

Director Mann uses a silvery blue pallette and spare, reflective, glass-filled settings to keep the mood as cool as moonlight. Both Pinkett Smith and Ruffalo are endlessly watchable, giving their characters subtlety and context to make us care far out of proportion to their time onscreen.

But this is really about Max and Vince, a sort of buddy movie on crank. One is “indifferent” and one cares very much, attached to one woman he has known all his life and one he just met. Both are careful and meticulous, constantly evaluating risks; they just assess them differently. One’s completely in the moment, a devotee of improvization in life and in music, and the other is a careful guy who plans so much he does not act. One part of the score unites the themes with a jazz take on a Bach composition.

Foxx is turning into a performer of great presence and depth and he makes a convincing leading man. Cruise is a little out of his range but that works oddly well for Vince, giving him a little frisson of uncertainty underneath the Terminator-like singlemindedness of the character. And Cruise has moments of brilliance. He even runs in character, completely focused but so in each moment that he does not try to pace himself. He puts everything he has into each step forward.

Parents should know that the movie is extremely violent with constant tension and peril and many graphic shoot-outs. Many people are killed. Characters use very strong language, drink and smoke, and there are references to drugs and drug dealing.

Families who see this movie should talk about Vince’s ability to compartmentalize. He says he did not kill one of the victims, “the bullet and the fall killed him.” Notice the way that Vince is always to the left of Max except in one scene. Which scene is that and why? What were Max’s options? What is the meaning of the title? Who or what serves as collateral?

Families who enjoy this movie will also enjoy Manhunter by the same director. It is the first movie featuring Hannibal Lecter (played by Brian Cox before Anthony Hopkins took over in Silence of the Lambs and it is an overlooked gem. They may also enjoy Internal Affairs, Matchstick Men, and Narrow Margin.

This unpretentiously genial little stoner comedy has a couple of things going for it. The characters and jokes are a bit above average for a genre with admittedly low standards. And its very unambitiousness gives the film moments that almost approach charm.

That said, it’s still mostly just extremely dumb and vulgar.

The title sums up the plot. Harold (John Cho) has a job that requires him to analyze numbers and a crush on a pretty girl in his building. He also has a big assignment that has just been dumped on him by his boss. Kumar (Kal Penn) is a slacker whose only ambition is not to become a doctor like his father and brother. Oh, and to get completely baked, with which Harold concurs.

Once happily stoned, the duo realize that there is only one more thing they need to achieve perfect happiness, those scumptious square hamburgers from White Castle. But the nearest White Castle is a long drive away and it will get a lot longer as Harold and Kumar run into all kinds of characters and adventures along the way.

Many of those adventures are gross and disgusting. Then there are those that are even more gross and disgusting. Most of them are downright stupid as well. Somewhere in there, though, there are a couple of moments that are funny, sweet, and even smart, and some commentary on race and ethnicity that almost qualifies as subtle. Cho and Penn are engaging, especially when they sheepishly but then with increasing joy sing along with Wilson Phillips, and there are appearances by Fred Willard, Neil Patrick Harris (playing himself as a child star gone very, very bad), Anthony Anderson and, perhaps in a nod to Bringing Up Baby, an escaped cheetah. I also give it extra credit for avoiding the obvious forms of triumph over the bad guys.

Parents should know that this movie wallows in bad taste and is cheerfully vulgar and offensive in every possible category. It includes constant drug use, bad language, extremely explicit toilet humor, and frequent and explicit sexual references and situations. There is comic violence, some graphic, including a scene in surgery with a lot of blood and a disfigured man. While some characters are bigoted and there is a lot of homophobic and racist humor, a strength of the movie is the portrayal of diverse characters.

Families who see this movie should talk about how Harold and Kumar deal with pressure from family and co-workers. What does it mean to say that “the universe tends to unfold as it should?” They might also want to talk about their own views on alcohol and drugs. And they might want to try to find a White Castle!

Families who enjoy this film will also enjoy Up in Smoke.

The ending of this movie will infuriate some people, but for me it was a lot of fun and worked on many levels. And I thought about it all the way home.

However, it’s just about impossible to say anything more about the movie without spoiling the surprises, so you might want to stop reading right now. If not, you’ve been warned.

The people of the village of Covington live in an uneasy truce with creatures they describe as “those we do not speak about,” who live in the woods that ring their town. Of course, the villagers do speak about them all the time, as, for example, when they refer to them as “those we do not speak about.” They sometimes wonder whether they should try to leave the village — perhaps someone in one of the towns that lie on the other side of the woods might have medicine that could have saved a young boy. Fear of “those we do not speak about” keeps them well inside the boundaries ringed by ochre-colored flags. But young people are restless — and reckless — and dare each other to test the boundaries. And there is a developmentally disabled man named Noah (Adrien Brody) who does not always do what he is told.

The village schoolmaster is Edward Walker (William Hurt), who has two daughters, Ivy (Bryce Dallas Howard), who is blind, and Kitty (Judy Greer). Both are drawn to Lucius (Joaquin Phoenix), but he is interested only in Ivy, who has a warm and wise heart and a merry spirit. Lucius tries to go into the woods and it makes the creatures angry. There is an attack. But then something else goes very wrong and someone else must enter the woods, this time not to return without completing the journey.

Producer/writer/director M. Night Shyamalan knows how to use the camera to tell the story and has a sure control of tone and pace, alternating gasps and laughs to keep things moving. Working with Coen brothers’ cameraman Roger Deakins, he has created a wonderfully evocative setting. Hurt delivers one of his less mannered performances and his scenes with his daughters and with Sigourney Weaver, who plays Lucius’ mother, are movingly tender. The heart of the movie is Bryce Dallas Howard (daughter of actor/director Ron Howard) as Ivy. Every moment she is on screen is fresh, touching, and real.

Even aside from the ending, there is a lot in this movie. Ever since the days of fairy tales and Shakespeare, quests that take characters into the woods have been Jungian metaphors for journeys into the soul, voyages to growth and understanding, and we get a nod to that when a young yellow ridinghood (red upsets the creatures) enters the woods on a mission of mercy. Shyamalan is not, well, afraid, to take on some big notions about fear and inhumanity and the conflicts faced by parents who want to protect their children and he creates characters we are willing to trust and care about.

Shyamalan is in some ways the victim of his own success. He is under a lot of pressure to keep pulling surprise endings out of cinematic hats. The problem is that an expected surprise is, in addition to an oxymoron, inevitably disappointing. It has become a distraction, like the cameo appearances by Alfred Hitchcock (which Shyamalan emulates). Hitchcock solved the problem by getting his appearances out of the way at the beginning of his later movies; Shyamalan might want to think about doing that with his surprises as well — he has the chops to deliver a straight, twist-free drama, and if he tries that next time, it would be a nice surprise.

Parents should know that this is a very tense and scary thriller. While much of the scary stuff is in the audience’s imagination, there are some scary jump-out-at-you surprises and some gory graphic images. Characters are attacked and killed. There is a very positive portrayal of a blind character who is exceptionally capable and courageous. Some viewers may be concerned about the portrayal of a developmentally delayed and possibly disturbed character.

Families who see this movie should talk about what drew the families in the village to settle where they did in spite of the risks. They should also think about whether there were any clues in the movie that pointed to the ultimate twist. Why did Edward send Ivy? The movie was originally called “The Woods.” Is that a better title? What is the scariest part of the movie and why?

Families who enjoy this movie will also enjoy Shyamalan’s The Sixth Sense and Signs. They will also enjoy the classic episodes of The Twilight Zone. And they might enjoy seeing Hurt and Weaver together in a movie they made more than 20 years ago, Eyewitness.

This would-be romantic comedy is romance-free, comedy-free, charm-free, and apparently carb-free as well, with leading ladies Brittany Murphy and Holly Hunter looking toned but stringy and underfed.

Murphy plays Stacy, a television producer whose mother thinks that the cure for all heartache is Carly Simon music and whose dream is to work for Diane Sawyer.

She gets a job with sleazy syndicated talk-show host Kippie Kann (Kathy Bates), who specializes in topics like “my grandmother is a hooker” and “midgets gone wild.”

Stacy is living happily with her boyfriend Derek (Ron Livingston) until he is away on a business trip and she discovers through his PDA that he has been in touch with three of his old girlfriends without telling her. She contacts them in the guise of interviewing them for Kippie’s television show and gets into more and more trouble until a humiliating confrontation broadcast on live television.

With this movie and Sleepover, co-screenwriter Elisa Bell shares responsibility for two of the worst scripts of the summer. Both films are failed attempts at I Love Lucy-style hi-jinks but both suffer from the same disastrous inability to appreciate the importance of making sure the audience is on the side of the main character.

No matter how wacky Lucy was, we always did, in fact, love her. While Stacy thinks she is adorable (and Murphy clearly thinks so, too), she never gets us on her side. She lies, cheats, and is completely irresponsible with regard to her job. She lies to Derek’s ex-girlfriends, telling them she is interviewing them for segments of the television program, but she never in fact seems to do any work at all. She is a nervous wreck over Derek’s past and possible present involvement with his exes, but she never stops for a moment to think about what her own commitment is. And the ultimate conclusion is not just illogical, which can sometimes be okay in a movie, but it is nails-on-blackboard-level insincere and condescending, which cannot.

Furthermore, the jokes simply are not funny. There may be a way to find humor in canine digestive problems, out-of-control little people, a gynecological exam, nose-picking, eating disorders, and painfully humiliating betrayals, but not in this movie. Taking on Jerry Springer-style talk shows stopped being timely years ago; six years ago, Hope Floats skewered them in an efficient ten minutes. And hauling in a reference to the vastly better Working Girl only reminds us how bereft of that film’s heart and wit this one is.

Murphy has shown some quirky charm in supporting roles (Sidewalks of New York and Clueless) but is too insubstantial to hold the screen as a lead, disintegrating into annoying fluttery mannerisms. Hunter shows us a glimpse of an intriguingly conflicted character, but she seems to be acting in an entirely different film. Bates is just annoying. Livingston has an impossible task but his character wisely goes on a business trip at the beginning of the movie and is barely on screen so it does not really matter. The only character in the film with any appeal is the ex-girlfriend who really cares about Derek, played by the lovely Julianne Nicholson (Tully). It would be nice to see her in a better movie.

Parents should know that the movie has some strong material for a PG-13, including strong language, sexual references and situations, humor about genital warts, and a vibrator joke. Disabilities are portrayed as topics for comedy, including eating disorders and people with dwarfism.

Families who see this movie should talk about why it was so hard for Stacy to figure out what really bothered her about her relationship with Derek. They should talk about the ethics of Stacy’s treatment of Derek’s ex-girlfriends, her poor judgment in accepting a job she could not feel proud of, and her lack of professionalism in the office. Why did Barb make the choices she did? What will happen to her? Why do people watch television programs like Kippie’s?

Families who enjoy this movie will also enjoy the far better The Runaway Bride.

The Hours author Michael Cunningham has adapted his earlier novel for the screen and the result is admirable, respectable, but not completely successful. The book is the internal musings of the four main characters. What made it work was the beauty of Cunningham’s language. It is touching and illuminating, and even poetic, but that does not make a movie.

What’s left to put on film is the outlines of the story. Despite performances of great delicacy and insight it dissolves into soapiness without the lyrical and meditative prose to provide context and texture.

Bobby is a boy who loses his whole family. The older brother he adored is killed in an accident. His mother and father are so shattered that they become emotionally remote and both die before he graduates from high school.

Bobby meets Jonathan, the only child of Ned (Matt Frewer) and Alice (Sissy Spacek). They become close friends, sharing music, drugs, and some fumbling sexual encounters. Bobby is taken in by Jonathan’s family after his father dies, and years later, after Jonathan has gone to college and stayed on in New York, Bobby (now played by Colin Farrell) is still living with Ned and Alice. When they move to Arizona, Bobby goes to New York to stay with Jonathan (Dallas Roberts) and his roommate, Claire (Robin Wright Penn).

Jonathan is gay. He and Claire have one of those hip, funky Manhattan, Will and Grace, can’t-live-without-him-but-can’t-have-sex-with-him-even-though I’m-dying-to-have-a-baby, perfect friendships. Bobby is sweet, innocent, and open-hearted. Jonathan and Claire, who have none of those qualities, are surprised when he finds a way to fit in with them, possibly even to complete them. Claire seduces Bobby. Jonathan, who still loves Bobby, feels left out. When Claire becomes pregnant they decide to invent a new kind of family for themselves in a big old house in the country, a home at the end of the world.

Instead of holding it together, the grounding provided by top-notch performances makes the story seem episodic and superficial by contrast and some of the cinematic touches are heavy-handed. Farrell struggles with the double handicaps of having to play a character who is a bit of a blank and doing so in a truly atrocious wig, but he manages to capture Bobby’s simplicity without making him seem simple-minded. But Roberts especially is revelatory. Just the way he enters a room or holds his head shows tremendous sensitivity and insight and his every glance is filled with delicate eloquence. First-time director Michael Mayer may put too much faith in the ability of some overused and slightly cheesy music to make his points, but Roberts gets us as close as possible to the depth of understanding in Cunningham’s novel.

Parents should know that the movie has extremely mature material. Characters drink, smoke cigarettes and marijuana, and take LSD, including a teenager who gives his young brother LSD and a mother who smokes marijuana with her son. A character is killed in an accident and other characters die offscreen. Characters use extremely strong language and there are explicit and graphic sexual references and situations, both heterosexual and homosexual. There are tense and sad scenes.

Families who see this movie should compare the families we are born into to the families we create for ourselves. Why does Bobby say that “we are all beautiful and lonely here?” People in this movie have a hard time knowing who they are. Claire says, “What if I’m not this unusual?” Jonathan offers to switch places in his family with Bobby. Claire tells Bobby that he doesn’t look like himself and might be living someone else’s life. What do they need to know to feel “like themselves?” How do we respond to a “big, beautiful, messy world?”

Families who appreciate this movie should read the book. They will also appreciate The Object of My Affection.