I didn’t get around to watching Comedy Central’s roast of Joan Rivers, and now I’m glad I didn’t. Turns out, Rivers sat in her limo before the show began, absolutely dreading it.

She knew it was going to be a litany of cruel jokes about her age and her plastic surgery abuse—and she wanted no part of it. She took the gig for the money, plain and simple. So she put on her game face as a lineup of (mostly male) comedians barraged her with mean-spirited put-downs about her appearance. (Brad Garrett screamed at the sight of her.)

There are many such cringe-inducing  moments in the fabulous new documentary Joan Rivers: A Piece of Work—and also moments that will make you cry, cheer, and, most of all, laugh. You will leave this film remembering that Joan Rivers is one very funny woman (albeit a vulgar one). You will also see her as a woman of great strength, a true show biz survivor.

At 75 years of age, Rivers is all-too aware of her status in the show-biz arena: A has-been and...

I didn’t expect Grown Ups to be good, but I at least expected to give it one of those “it looks like they’re having more fun on screen than we are in the audience” type reviews.

That’s usually what happens when a big star like Adam Sandler rounds up his pals—in this case, Rob Schneider, Chris Rock, David Spade, and Kevin James—to make a movie: The film is beset with inside jokes and a kind of giddy camaraderie that doesn’t quite translate into a satisfying viewing experience.

But that is not what happens here. Because everyone involved with Grown Ups seems miserable. Beyond miserable—filled with a kind of unspeakable, existential dread. Kevin James, in particular, looks like Admiral James Stockdale: “Who am I? How did I get here?” (There are also a few women, real actresses no less—Salma Hayak, Maya Rudolph, Maria Bello—who got roped into this fiasco. They will be no doubt be wiping this film from their resumes.)

The premise is this: Five guys, who played on a...

Viewers of The Karate Kid will undoubtedly fall into two camps: Those, like myself, who are fiercely protective of the original and who find the new version both unnecessary and somewhat lacking; and newcomers to the film, who will cheer the story of a fatherless boy who is bullied and then trained to become a martial arts expert by a kindly and wise father figure.

Let’s face it, you’d have to work really hard to screw that story up—and the filmmakers don’t. Their version is slick and satisfying entertainment. But compared to the original, they made some, shall we say, odd choices.

For one, the Daniel character, now named Dre and played by cutie Jaden Smith (Will and Jada’s kid) has moved from Detroit to China with his mom (Taraji P. Henson). I like that, because the fish-out-water aspect was always a big part of Daniel’s  journey. But they don’t do karate in China. They do kung fu, which the film acknowledges. Why not, then, change the name of the film to The Kung Fu Kid?

Like most unsuspecting Americans, I first encountered the life force that is Russell Brand in Forgetting Sarah Marshall—a film he pretty much stole out from under stars Jason Segal and Kristen Bell. His rock star Aldous Snow was cheerfully depraved: Patti-Smith-skinny in poured-on leather pants, gifted with a stoner-philosopher’s addled wisdom, willing to shag or smoke anything in front of him, and blissfully untroubled by the havoc he wreaked. I thought he was hilarious and—here’s the key— oddly endearing. I also wondered if the actor could play anyone else.

Well, we won’t find out just yet because in Get Him to the Greek, Brand’s Aldous Snow rides again, only this time, he’s the centerpiece of the movie. (Brand has also been tapped as Arthur in a remake of the Dudley Moore classic—an inspired bit of casting, albeit a character not too far off from Snow.)

Brand is paired up with Jonah Hill, the roly-poly, deadpan actor who is best when he’s playing a slightly cowed good guy, as he does here. Hill plays Aaron, a low-ranking...