Director Louis Leterrier (the second “Hulk” movie) says that he was a big fan of the 1981 Clash of the Titans when he was a child. Perhaps that is why he has remade the wrong parts of that film. Nearly 30 years later, fans of the film are willing to overlook its essential cheesiness because of their affection for its special place at the apex of old-school analog special effects before the rise of computer-generated images. People did not watch the movie to see classically trained British actors slumming for a paycheck; they watched it to see the last creatures created by special effects superstar Ray Harryhausen. Each one was meticulously crafted and, as often happened in Harryhausen films, they often seemed more alive than the human performers. Note, too, that the movie was shot in 2D and then reconfigured after the fact for 3D, a very different effect than the fully-realized, fully-immersive experience of a movie conceived and shot in 3D.

This remake is bigger and grander but it is missing just that sense of life that Harryhausen brought to his fantastic creations, which were always astonishing and unique. Instead, we get the same CGI-fest we have seen so many times, with nothing especially imaginative or memorable.

The same can be said for this generation of classically-trained British actors, including Liam Neeson as Zeus, in a shiny (and anachronistic) Joan of Arc-style suit of armor and Ralph Fiennes as Hades, the god of the underworld, dressed like a Norwegian death metal band member trying to play Richard III. They are the titans who clash by proxy.

The gods need the loyalty of humans to survive. Zeus insists that they will get more fealty with love; Hades, still bitter and jealous that it is his brother who is king of the gods, believes in ruling by fear. The winner of their battle will be decided by a fight to the death of their progeny. Perseus (Sam Worthington in an even more anachronistic buzz cut) is Zeus’s son; the sea monster called the Kraken is the child of Hades. The arrogant king and queen of Argos have committed the sin of hubris, thinking they are more important and powerful than the gods. So Hades tells them that he will destroy the city unless they sacrifice their daughter, Andromeda to the Kraken. Perseus is determined to fight the Kraken and save the princess. And he is determined to “fight as a man,” not to use any of the powers or tools of the gods because he blames Zeus for the death of his mother and his adoptive parents.

With a small band of allies, Perseus travels to the three Stygian witches, who share one eye, to find out how to defeat the dragon. The journey involves battles with giant scorpions and trip into the underworld to fight the serpentine Medusa, the snake-headed lady whose eyes can turn a person to stone. And then, he must make it back to Argos in time to save Andromeda and defeat the giant sea monster, to the tune of some even more anachronistic rock chords.

The effects would be more impressive than the original’s only if you were still living in 1981. Today we take for granted that anything is possible on screen. But possible is not good enough; there has to be something truly striking. The witches and desert djinns look like they are wearing Halloween masks and the creatures look like variations on one predictable theme. There is a demigoddess whose powers seem to vary from scene to scene. The liberties taken with the original myths and the 1981 version’s story seem purposeless. And Worthington just seems lost, as though he wandered in from the set of “Avatar” and is looking around for the exit. I know how he felt.

Plot: Kim (Dean Stockwell) is a street kid who lives by his wits in Victorian India. The orphaned son of white English parents, he disguises himself as a native, because “missionaries take white boys to school” and he wants his freedom. He lives by petty theft and by running small errands for people like Red Beard (Errol Flynn), also a white man who dresses and lives as a native.

On his way to deliver a message for Red Beard, Kim meets a mysterious holy man (Paul Lukas), who is searching for a mythical holy river that will cleanse sins. Kim accompanies the holy man as an apprentice to make it easier for him to reach the place where he must deliver Red Beard’s message. He becomes fascinated with the holy man, and stays on with him until he is discovered by British officers, who realize that he is the son of a former colleague, and send him to a military orphanage, promising him to “make a white boy of you.” Unhappy at the orphanage, he is sent to a posh private school, St. Xavier’s, where he has trouble fitting in. He lags far behind the other boys in schoolwork, and is constantly told that what he is used to doing is “not done at St. Xavier’s.” On his way back to the military orphanage for school break, he runs away and returns to native garb. Red Beard’s friend trains him in “the great game,” espionage, and, reunited with the holy man, he gives crucial aid to the British in the battles along the Afghanistan border. The holy man dies, and Kim and Red Beard ride off together.

Discussion: This is a colorful and exciting story, based on the book by Rudyard Kipling. As in “Oliver,” “Huckleberry Finn,” and “Aladdin” (and “Home Alone”), it is the story of a boy who must take care of himself in the adult world, and Kim does a reassuringly good job. He even takes good care of the holy man. One theme of interest in the movie is the way that he is able to move back and forth between two different worlds, each apparently requiring different clothes. In one scene, he is able to make himself almost invisible by dying his skin and putting on a turban; even his schoolmate does not recognize him, when he asks for alms. Only one character can tell that he is a fraud; the “fat man,” who sees that his beads and belt are wrong.

Topics for discussion include the various petty thefts and subterfuges Kim uses, and whether they are justified, as well as the larger issues of colonialism and the author’s point of view.

No one thinks more carefuly about words than poets, scholars, and detectives. All three come together in two parallel love stories spanning two centuries, based on the astonishingly inventive, dauntingly intellectual, but rapturously romantic novel by A.S. Byatt.

Neil LaBute, best known for his harrowing and very contemporary portrayals of bitter, selfish, and manipulative people and abusive relationships in “Your Friends and Neighbors” and “In the Company of Men,” is an unexpected choice for this film. It required him to adapt someone else’s material, work with settings in another time and place, and portray relationships with genuine respect and intimacy. While he is not able to master the scope of the novel, the result is smart, satisfying, and fun.

Aaron Eckert (star of all of LaBute’s films and the biker boyfriend in “Erin Brockovich”) plays Roland Michell, a scholar of English literature who gets little respect because he is (1) a lowly research assistant and (2) American. Assigned the trivial task of leafing through a famous 19th century poet’s personal copy of a science book, in case the poet made any interesting marginal notes, he makes an astounding discovery.

The poet, Randolph Henry Ash (Jeremy Northern), was famous for his devotion to his wife and is thought to have been completely faithful to her. But between the pages of the old book are early drafts of what appear to be Ash’s love letters to another woman. Impulsively, Roland takes the pages. They are potentially a career-making discovery. But more important, they are exactly the kind of scholarly mystery that fires his mind and spirit.

Roland decides that the Ash letters may have been written to Christabel LaMotte (Jennifer Ehle), a minor poet. Roland goes to meet with Maud Bailey, (Gwyneth Paltrow), a professor, who is not only an expert on LaMotte, but also a great-niece. From there, the story goes back and forth between the two sets of lovers.

This is a high-gloss romance with pretty people falling in love. Forget bodice-ripping — bodice untying is conclusively shown to be even more voluptuous. But the subtlety and complexity of the novel is lost. There are vestiges about some ambitious thoughts about love, honor, risk, emotional and intellectual precision, and even scholarship, but what remains is a nice date movie, but not much more.

Parents should know that the movie has sexual situations and references, including sex between unmarried couples, a lesbian relationship, and an out of wedlock pregnancy. Roland and Maud almost become sexually involved when he stops, telling her that he has hurt others in the past and does not want to become physically intimate until they have a better sense of their relationship. A character commits suicide. Characters steal documents of great value. There is some strong language, and characters smoke and drink. Some audience members may be upset by scenes of an unauthorized exhumation.

Families who see this movie should talk about how the two couples are alike and how they are different, and they should talk about the decisions made by Ash and LaMotte to become involved with each other despite prior relationships. Who was hurt by what they did? What do we know about Roland’s and Maud’s prior relationships, and how did they help and hurt the development of their relationship with each other? What led them to trust — and mistrust — each other? What was the right thing for Roland to do when he discovered Ash’s draft letters? How much is it fair for us to learn about historical figures and what do we do with that information?

Families who enjoy this movie will enjoy the book, Possession: A Romance, with extraordinarily poems “by” Ash and LaMotte. They will also enjoy another story that counterpoises a 19th century love story with a contemporary one, The French Lieutenant’s Woman with Jeremy Irons and Meryl Streep.

Imagine the potential: a gritty, innovative director remakes a provocative film about gender and class and the clash of diametrically opposed individuals when the tables are turned on their situation. Mix in sexual tension, deserted Ionian islands and two attractive co-stars and you could have a beach bonfire, lighting up the night with fire and sparks.

In this case, there is no spark to start the fire and the only thing “swept away” is the one hour and thirty-three minutes spent watching. What a waste of potential. Guy Ritchie, whose previous films include such witty works as “Snatch” (who will ever trust a pig farmer again?) and “Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels”, directs this updated version of Lina Wertmüller’s love story “Swept Away” (1974).

Ultra-rich, bored, and spiteful Amber Leighton (Madonna) grudgingly boards an insufficiently luxurious private boat from Greece to Italy. She is accompanied by her stone-faced husband (Bruce Greenwood), who seems vaguely amused by his wife’s tantrums. Also in tow are two other couples serving as a mildly debauched background for Amber’s anomie. On the boat, crew member Giuseppe (Adriano Giannini) is a former fisherman who cannot adapt to his new role pampering rich Americans. For him, Amber especially personifies all things evil about capitalism: the same cold, superficial, profit-driven selfishness that robbed him of his means to survive by killing off his “fishes”. Giuseppe, with his “Nature Man” beard, soon becomes the target of Amber’s derision, while she is the subject of his disgust and, after seeing her muscular beauty sunbathing, perverse attraction.

Through a series of mishaps, Amber and Giuseppe find themselves stranded on a deserted island where the tables are turned. Amber must rely on Giuseppe’s fishing abilities to survive and he is far from a willing provider. In exchange for food, Amber must become his servant – washing his clothes, kissing his feet, responding to his slaps with “yes, Master” – a situation in which she finds that (you guessed it) she actually loves him just as he loves her.

Adriano Giannini, whose father (Giancarlo Giannini) played the same character of Giuseppe in the original, glowers convincingly onscreen, but it is a generally wooden Madonna who adds the one spark to this otherwise soggy fare during her fantasy dance sequence.

Parents should know that this movie contains strong language, some violence and a near-rape. Amber’s verbal domination of Giuseppe on the boat is disturbing but his physical domination of her on the island is completely unsuitable for younger children (and many adults).

Families who see this movie should talk about the power politics in relationships. How is the power dynamic of domination and submission affected by situations beyond the characters’ control? How does money influence the actions of the different characters?

Families who enjoyed this film might consider other movies where the central character is forced to make a journey of self-discovery when survival is on the line (movies such as “Castaway,” “The Admirable Crichton,” “The Little Hut,” or “Lord of the Flies”) or a comic treatment of a similar plot with Goldie Hawn and Kurt Russell in “Overboard.” However, for those who wish to see romantic sparks fly when opposites clash, skip this movie altogether and watch “African Queen” again.

A true connoisseur of the scary movie (note, not slasher flicks but psychological thrillers) will recognize certain spooky elements in many of the “classics” of the genre: the cruel parent (or stepparent); the otherworldly child, a medium for the spirit world; and, the violent reaction of animals, children and the insane to the presence of evil. Certain images are also commonly found in these movies and are preternaturally disturbing: wells, bleak cliffs, lighthouses, remote cabins in the woods, lone autumnal trees on hillsides, rainy nights, and other symbols of isolation.

Renowned mythologist, Joseph Campbell, argued that certain tales and images are part of our universal consciousness and, therefore, part of collective human storytelling. Heavily influenced by Carl Jung, Campbell described how these themes reoccur throughout the tapestry of stories told by groups divided by time and geography. Perhaps then there should be no surprise that certain images reappear with such alarming effectiveness in scary movies whether the source is Hollywood, or in this case, Japan.

Based on “Ringu”, a series of books by Kôji Suzuki (the “Stephen King of Japan”), Hideo Nakata directed the original, record-breaking box office smash for Asian audiences (1998), which DreamWorks decided would translate well for American audiences. Gore Verbinski was chosen to direct even though he is best known for more light-hearted fare such as “Mouse Hunt” and “The Mexican.”

The premise is fairly simple. Urban legend meets scary movie reality when four teens die, as predicted, exactly seven days to the minute from when they watched an unmarked video in a remote mountain cabin. The aunt of one of the teenagers is a savvy and skeptical journalist whose curiosity is sparked by tales of the tape. After finding and watching the source of the mystery, she receives a phone call announcing that she has seven days. From there, it is a race to solve the clues and answer the riddle of the video, with the stakes greatly raised when two of the people closest to her, including her young son, watch the deadly tape.

The video itself is a mosaic of images both familiar and disturbing. With its mirrors, wriggly things, ladders, and -–of course—- rings, you might think you were watching “Un Chien Andalou” (Luis Buñel and Salvador Dali’s 1929 surrealist classic) as directed by David Lynch after he had been reading Jung and not getting enough fresh air.

As one born to the genre, Director Verbinski does an excellent job of letting our imaginations find portent and peril in the most mundane of actions, such as picking up groceries at the local corner store. Naomi Watts, a relatively unknown actress for those who missed her in David Lynch’s “Mulholland Drive” (2001), plays Rachel, the journalist whose desire to find the cause of her niece’s death becomes a life or death quest for answers. For all of us who have rolled our eyes at the screaming teen, walking backward alone through the dark house, Watts will be a relief as she plays through the gamut of Rachel’s emotions with truly credible, but not overwrought, gusto. While the adults are busy solving the riddle of the tape, the heart-stopping dyad of the Ring’s children usher in the deeper dimension of fear. Rachel’s son, Aiden (a stony-eyed David Dorfman) is the medium and interpreter for the terrifying Samara (Daveigh Chase), who lays at the heart of the mystery.

“The Ring” dips deep in the well of those aforementioned familiar scary images, which paradoxically results in a movie that is both architecturally firm but –with little new to add—empty of true revelation. Joseph Campbell could have used this movie as a reference book for universally terrifying images, but perhaps the tale itself was more effectively told in Japanese.

Parents should know that this movie is very, very scary. Four people and a horse die on-screen, with the potential for many more untimely demises throughout and -–don’t read on if you enjoy surprises-—beyond the end of the movie. The overall tone is creepy and would leave many of the staunchest of movie-goers in dire need of brightly lit rooms and laughter.

Families who see this movie should talk about the decision that Rachel makes at the end of the movie and the ramifications of her actions. They might also wish to discuss the way that different characters deal with the untimely death of a loved one.

Families who enjoy this movie might wish to shiver together over “The Shining”, “The Omen”, “The Exorcist”, “Poltergeist” or “The Sixth Sense”. Alternately, they might wish to never watch a video again (especially an unmarked one) and opt to have a Scrabble night instead, preferably after turning on all the lights in the house.