A true story that is both touching and thrilling and tons of talent on both sides of the camera are enough to make this a good movie, but not enough to make it a great one.

It is in part the sheer grandness of the story of Howard Hughes, a story that could easily fill five or six movies, that makes even an energetic and muscular three-hour-epic feel like it is just skimming the surface of Hughes’ life and his character. There is no way to try to cover even this one section of Hughes’ life without making it feel like a “greatest hits” clip job instead of a story with a real narrative arc.

So it falls into the standard reductionist biopic traps (see Ray and Beyond the Sea) of trying to tie too much to specific childhood events and fumbling the narrative challenge of conveying an era and a life at the same time. And it never rises from incident to insight. Was the determination that led Hughes to spend more money, use more cameras, and reshoot more footage on Hell’s Angels than could ever be justified tied to the obssessive-compulsive impulse that had him washing his hands until they bled? The movie seems to tie his phobia about germs to a flashback to a weirdly sexualized bathing scene with his mother washing him as she explains a quarantine for typhus. This seems like a throwback to the era it depicts, where, in those early days of psychotherapy, everyone but Orson Welles seemed to think that any life could be explained by one childhood trauma.

The second problem is in the mis-casting of the leading man. Leonardo DiCaprio is a brilliantly gifted actor. He has made effective use of his imperishably boyish quality in Titanic, Catch Me If You Can, and especially What’s Eating Gilbert Grape?. But here it works against him as he tries to play Hughes the man, and the performance often seems made up of squint, tics, and accent. As a result, Hughes seems more like a kid struggling with ADD than the tortured larger-than-life man who produced era-defining movies (Hell’s Angels, the original Scarface, and The Front Page), dated the world’s biggest movie stars (Katharine Hepburn, Ava Gardner, Jean Harlow), founded an airline (TWA), owned seven Las Vegas casinos, designed and test-piloted airplanes, risked fortunes and made bigger ones, and died as a recluse, the prisoner of illness and of the greedy people around him who did whatever he said instead of insisting he get help.

But no one does pageantry better than Scorcese and this is a brilliant film, even with its flaws. Cate Blanchett evokes Hepburn’s accent and her odd and endearing combination of directness and sensitivity without making it into an impersonation. Kate Beckinsale never evokes the real Ava Gardner, but makes her character into a woman capable of a great but practical tenderness. It is a treat to watch Hughes assemble the world’s largest private air force to make his movie, design and fly experimental airplanes, analyze the cigarette girl’s smile, become imprisoned in the men’s room because he can’t bear to touch the germ-covered doorknob, and take on the most formidable of opponents from Katharine Hepburn’s family to the movie rating board and Maine’s corrupt senator. The crash scene is bone-chillingly harrowing and the scenes of old-time Hollywood reflect the director’s deep love of that era. Like the life it depicts, it is uneven and fascinating.

Parents should know that the movie has some very violent airplane crashes, some causing serious injury. Characters drink, smoke, and use strong language. There are very explicit sexual references and situations and some non-sexual nudity. Some audience members may be upset by the scenes involving Hughes’ struggles with mental illness.

Families who see this movie should talk about what made Hughes so passionate about his many projects? Why didn’t he want people to know he could not hear? Why didn’t he mind drinking from the same bottle? Why wouldn’t Ava Gardner let him buy anything other than dinner?

Families may also want to learn more about obsessive-compulsive disorder. And they may want to consider whether Hughes might have had to get treatment if he had not been surrounded by people who would do whatever he said in order to continue working for him.

Families who like this film will also enjoy Tucker and the perennial best-movie-of-all-time choice, Citizen Kane. They should see some of Hughes’ movies, like Scarface, Hell’s Angels, and the notorious The Outlaw. They should watch some of the movie featuring his glamorous escorts, like Jean Harlow, Katherine Hepburn, and Ava Gardner. And they will enjoy the fantasy inspired by the story of one of the many people who claimed to be Hughes’ heir, Melvin and Howard.

With an anguished wail, Larry (Clive Owen) asks where he can find intimacy. In a private room in a strip club, where the rules say that you can look, but not touch. The stripper’s ex-boyfriend is now romantically involved with Larry’s ex-wife, Anna (Julia Roberts). Does he really want intimacy or does he want revenge? Or does he just want the stripper to bend over and touch the floor?

Probably all of the above. This is a searing story of hurt and betrayal with two men and two women who reach for each other and hurt each other in almost every combination. They may get, as in the movie’s title “Closer,” but do they ever really get close?

Larry is a dermatologist. Anna is a photographer. Alice (Natalie Portman) is a stripper turned waitress turned stripper again. And Dan (Jude Law) is an obituary writer who has written a novel. Larry first talks to Anna as the result of a prank — Dan pretended to be Anna on an online sex chat and set up the meeting. Anna and Larry become a couple and then get married, but she is having an affair with Dan, who is living with Alice, the stripper turned waitress whose life inspired the main character of his novel. One of the portraits in Anna’s art show is the photograph she took of Alice, who had just discovered that Dan was attracted to Anna. And all of this roundelay is delivered in glossy dialogue by glossy people in glossy surroundings.

This film is more clever than wise, and it is not as clever as it thinks it is. Those in the audience who have been angered and betrayed by love might find it validating, but that does not make it insightful. The main characters toss around the L-word a great deal, but there is no evidence that any of them even see each other, much less know or love each other.

Neither Anna nor Alice are really characters; they are somewhere between a fantasy and a narrative convenience. Their only function is to drive the men crazy, mostly by just being gorgeous and arbitrary.

The center of the movie is the relationship between the two men. Larry and Dan send instant messages to each other in an anonymous sex chat room, Dan pretending to be a woman. Their connections with the women in their lives have more to do with the struggle between the men over power and territory than with knowing or caring for Anna and Alice. Larry demands to know Alice’s real name, but neither he nor Dan ask her for any details about her past or preferences or aspirations.

The script has some snappy lines and Nichols keeps guessing by not telling us how much time has passed between the encounters. Portman is dazzling to watch. Owen and Law do well (those who saw Law cry in the very different I Heart Huckabee’s will see his range when Dan cries here). But this is not the best use of Roberts’ considerable talents; it may be that Nichols was relying more on the shock value of hearing America’s sweetheart speak about oral sex in explicit terms than on her ability to convey a superficially conceived character. It’s always fun to watch pretty people say clever things, but for all its knowing banter about truth and lies and love, like its characters, it is a little too much in love with itself, and no wiser or happier when it’s over.

Parents should know that this movie is filled with extremely adult material, with exceptionally explicit sexual references, including adultery and oral sex. There are scenes in a strip club. Characters drink, smoke, and use very strong, explicit, and graphic language. There are tense and upsetting scenes of jealousy, anger, and betrayal.

Families who see this movie should talk about what the characters were really looking for. What did playwright/screenwriter Patrick Marber want to show us with the occupations of the four characters? What do we learn from the name on Alice’s passport? Why do two different people say “Hello, stranger?” Were Dan and Anna using Alice by writing the novel and taking her photo? They may also want to talk about how genuine trust and intimacy are established.

Families who appreciate this movie will also like Carnal Knowledge, also directed by Nichols, and Dangerous Liaisons and Valmont, two different movie versions of the epistolary novel by Choderlos de Laclos.

An officer about to arrest a beautiful blind dancer who works in a brothel tells her that if she can win the “Echo Game” he will let her go. She is surrounded by 100 drums. And then, in one of the most extraordinary scenes ever put on film, as the officer tosses stones at the drums, she must listen carefully to replicate the patterns of the sounds through her dance by tossing her long satin sleeves to strike the drums in the same precise rhythms. Her arm sweeps across so that the sleeve extends far enough to pull the officer’s sword from its sheath. And then things really start to heat up.

Director Yimou Zhang (Hero, Raise the Red Lantern) is a master of ravishing, rapturous images drenched with glowing, jewel-like colors, unfurling like a rich tapestry. The fight scenes are dramatic, as much a part of telling the story and revealing the characters as the dialogue and the plot. And they are beautiful, like exquisite blood-soaked ballets.

In the brothel, all the girls have taken fancy flower names except the beautiful blind dancer, who is simply named Mei (Ziyi Zhang). A drunken playboy captivated by her tries to rip her clothes off and an officer arrives to arrest them both. That is when Mei shows her prowess in the Echo Game. But she is arrested anyway when she attacks the officer. It seems she is an operative for the rebel House of Flying Daggers. She is about to be tortured when she is rescued by the drunken playboy, who tells her he is on her side. They escape together, followed by the soldiers.

And like all movie journeys, the characters are on a spiritual quest as they travel. Love and loyalty will be tested and lessons will be learned. The confrontations and battle scenes reveal the characters and move the story forward as they dazzle us with breathtaking images and stunning stuntwork. A shower of daggers, a bamboo-forest skirmish that looks like it was choreographed by Cirque du Soleil, and a final encounter in a snow-covered field are striking, moving, and dramatic all at the same time. But the most exquisite image of all is the face of Ziyi Zhang, a brilliant actress, a classically trained dancer, and a fearless combatant. The story may seem unfinished (there is one shot of an advancing army that leaves us wondering what happened next), but ultimately it is as spare and graceful as a calligraphic symbol.

Parents should know that the movie is extremely violent. The fight scenes are beautiful but deadly, with graphic injuries and many deaths. There are sexual references and situations including a scene in a brothel and attempted sexual assault. A strength of the movie is its portrayal of women and of Chinese men and women as strong, brave, and loyal.

Families who see this movie should talk about the difficult choices presented to Mei, Jin, and Leo. How did they decide on what was most important to them?

Families who see this movie will also appreciate Hero by the same director and the award-winning Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, both starring Ziyi Zhyang.

A shy teacher comes to a school for wayward boys and decides to organize a choir.

This plot could be a cheesy after-school special or Sister Act 3. Or, it could be this lovely, tender, unpretentious French film, a small delight.

A distinguished orchestra conductor returns to his home for his mother’s funeral. A visitor arrives with a book under his arm. They have not seen each other for more than half a century. But once they were students together at a school for boys with behavior problems. The visitor has brought the diary of their teacher, Clement Mathieu (Gerard Jugnot). As they open the book, we are taken back to the teacher’s arrival at the school.

Rachin (François Berléand), the principal, is a petty tyrant who believes the only way to run the school is by controling the boys with brutal punishment. He has no hesitation in punishing the innocent if he cannot identify the guilty.

The shy Mathieu, who feels like a failure, shows a talent for getting the boys to trust and listen to him. Though past failures made him vow to give up music, the boys’ discovery of his sheet music leads him to invite them to sing for him. Several have enthusiasm, and one, Morhange (Jacques Perrin) has talent.

There is a gentle authenticity in the portrayal of the Mathieu and the boys, the music is glorious, and the ending is perfection.

Parents should know that the movie has some very crude schoolboy language and some violence. Children are punished by being beaten and a prank results in a serious injury.

Families who see this movie should talk about why Rachin and Mathieu have such different ideas about how to handle the boys. Why couldn’t Mathieu tell Morhage’s mother how he felt about her?

Families who enjoy this movie will also enjoy two Disney films about boys’ choirs, Perfect Harmony and Almost Angels (a fictional story set in the Vienna Boys’ Choir). They might also want to go to a concert featuring a choir like this one, or they might even like to try singing with one.

This meretricious claptrap is exactly the kind of baloney it purports to be saving us from.

There’s a reliable genre of family holiday movie that is made up of three-fourths slapstick followed by 15 minutes of sentiment. In this case, however, the characters are so unpleasant, the jokes so un-funny, the sentiment so blatantly hypocritical that the result is as heavy and unappetizing as last year’s figgy pudding.

The Kranks always do Christmas in a big way. But with their daughter Blair (Julie Gonzalo) departing for Peru, the prospect of a Christmas at home doesn’t seem too appealing. Luther (Tim Allen) proposes to Nora (Jamie Lee Curtis) that they skip Christmas. For half of the $6100 they spent on Christmas the previous year, they can take a luxury cruise. After Nora persuades Luther that they must still make their annual $600 charitable contributions, she agrees.

At first, they feel liberated from the pressure and hassles of Christmas. But when their friends and neighbors start to put pressure on them to conform. Luther is defiant, but Nora is uncertain. The neighbors are furious.

Instead of getting ready for Christmas, Luther and Nora get ready for their cruise. Just as they are ready to leave, their daughter calls. She will be home for Christmas after all, with her new boyfriend, Enrique, and she wants everything to be just the way it always has been. And she’ll be home in just a few hours.

This means that we are subjected to excruciating set-ups about the outrage of the community when the Kranks refuse to put their enormous Frosty up on the roof (“Free Frosty! Free Frosty!” they chant), turn down the Boy Scouts who come by to sell them a tree, and ice the walk to keep away the carolers. Then there are further sit-not-coms as they go to a tanning parlor (Curtis lets it all hang out in a tiny bikini) and Luther gets Botox in his face and can’t close his mouth to chew his lunch. There are equally un-funny escapades as everyone slips on the icy walk and as everyone scrambles to get everything ready for Blair. There are useless digressions about a robber and about a mystery man who seems to know everyone. The fact that Blair has a boyfriend who is a FOREIGNER is supposed to be funny. A cop spells his name wrong. Hahahaha!

One of the Kranks’ neighbors develop a very serious health problem, a particularly manipulative and awkward plot development that is too-obviously inserted to get our sympathy and give Luther a growth experience.

But what takes this movie from the harmless trifle category into the genuinely toxic is its attempt to leverage all of its audiences’ feelings about the best of Christmas while having no sense at all of what makes those feelings matter. Nora’s only contact with her clergyman is contrived so that he sees her in her skimpy bathing suit. The film’s phony attempt to make fun of the craziness, commercialism, and conformity of the holiday season is in fact just one more example, so fundamentally fake and superficial it makes tinsel look like sterling.

Parents should know that the movie has some mild sexual references (Nora thinks Luther wants to have sex and starts taking off her sweater and gulps down some wine, saying, “But it isn’t Saturday!”). Characters drink wine and beer on social occasions and some reach for alcohol to deal with stress. There is a lot of comic violence and mayhem, with many falls, bashes on the head, and electrocutions that are intended to be funny. A character receives bad news about the recurrance of cancer, which may be disturbing to some audience members.

Families who see this movie should talk about what is important about Christmas or other holidays and which traditions have the most meaning to them. They should also talk about peer pressure and how to know when to listen to the community and when to stick with your own judgment about what is right.

Families who enjoy this movie will also enjoy seeing The Santa Clause (also starring Allen) and Home Alone.