There’s been a lot of talk about the scene in 127 Hours where hiker Aron Ralston (James Franco) cuts off his own arm. Some people reportedly passed out at screenings. Others were only able to look at the carnage through clenched fingers. Still others so dreaded the scene, they chose to avoid the film altogether.

What people don’t tell you is that, at that point in the movie, you’re absolutely dying for Aron to cut off his arm. It’s basically either arm evisceration or death. And while the scene is grisly and, yes, hard to watch, it’s also a cause for celebration. In my own mind I was thinking, “Do it! Do it!” as poor Aron dug the (dull) knife into his flesh.

I imagine that director Danny Boyle (Slumdog Millionaire) never considered not showing Aron do the unthinkable deed. In fact, I’d venture to guess that the whole reason he chose to make the film was because of that scene.

After all, we’d all heard the true story of the hiker who fell into the canyon with his arm pinned under an intractable...

If nothing else, Morning Glory has an A-list feel. It has an A-list cast: Harrison Ford, Diane Keaton, and Rachel McAdams. It has an A-list release date: right before the holidays. And its premise—plucky young producer (McAdams) tries to get a semi-retired newsman (Harrison) to do happy talk on the morning news— is reminiscent of the decidedly A-List Broadcast News.

But Morning Glory is not an A-list film. It barely makes it onto the B-list.

So what’s the problem? Let’s start with a script that seems to have been buried in a vault for 20 years. Not only is this a film about TV that makes no mention of Hulu, Facebook, or TiVo (there is one token reference to YouTube), but at one point, the low-rated morning show is threatened to be cancelled in favor of—wait for it—game shows and soap operas. (The only thing more endangered than low-rated morning talk shows? Game shows and soap operas.)

The other problem is the film’s aggressive cutesiness. McAdams, who is undeniably adorable, is playing that stock chick-...

Some labors of love should be told to get lost. For Colored Girls, director Tyler Perry’s cinematic adaptation of the seminal 1970s play For Colored Girls Who Have Considered Suicide When the Rainbow Wasn’t Enuf, is that kind of well-intentioned, but doomed-from-the-start effort.

I have no doubt that the original work was very meaningful to Perry and his talented cast. But the play’s “choreopoem” structure—7 different actresses reciting poetic monologues that depict 20 unnamed characters—is nearly impossible to adapt. Perry chose to use 20 actors and give all the characters names and flesh out their stories. He also chose to occasionally have the actresses break the fourth wall and recite the plaintive, rhythmic dialogue from the play. It’s a risk that might’ve paid off in the hands of a more talented director, but here it just feels jarring and awkward.

Another problem: The film’s melodrama is piled on so thick, it borders on laughable. And the play’s themes of female empowerment are a bit...

Conviction fits neatly in the great tradition of tough-cookie-fighting the system films, from Norma Rae to Silkwood to Erin Brockovich.

It tells the true story of Betty Anne Waters (Hilary Swank), whose loveable loser brother Kenny (Sam Rockwell) is given life without parole for a grisly murder she’s certain he didn’t commit. (We’re not as sure.) She decides to get her law degree to defend him.

But first she has to get her GED.

Of course, Betty Anne's commitment to her brother’s release will consume her life, ruining her marriage, and almost costing her her kids. There will be setbacks, many of them. But she will gain a feisty best friend (Minnie Driver), a fellow adult law student, who rallies her spirits and helps her persevere.

Eventually, Betty Anne learns a new word: DNA. Conviction takes place in the 80s, before DNA evidence was widespread. She realizes that this is the only way she can save Kenny. Except Kenny has been in jail for 15 years and...