Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street - Here's a little checklist that should help you decide if Todd is something worth checking out, or something you can leapfrog to see Juno a second time.  If you love movies where 95% of the dialogue is sung instead of spoken, put a checkmark in the "Pro" column.  If you really get off on 95% of that 95% being sung by two tin-eared stars, put another check under "Pro."  If you're into that whole flip-flopping scene and can't decide if you want to see a horror film that doesn't offer enough horror, or a broad Sondheim musical -- maybe you're the type who gets off on the enormous chasm that lies between those two genres -- go ahead and give yourself another "Pro" check.  And we'll throw in a freebie: A check for people who crush on the increasingly unreliable Johnny Depp, ditching the tattered remains of his indie street cred here.

Can't imagine too many of you have more than a checkmark or two, which begs the question: Who's rushing out to see this on their Christmas vacation?  Sure, it's a very attractive picture, from the sets to the photography, but two hours of singing is going to bore the pants off of gore-starved viewers, and the last-reel gore is going to scare the pants of the foofy Broadway types.  And that means a theatre full of people without pants.  Won't someone think of the children?  PSB says 6

Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story - Is Hard the first step in the shark-jumping of Team Apatow, or is it meant to be more of a spoof than a gag-every-twenty-seconds bawdy comedy like his Knocked Up and Superbad?  Probably the latter, judging from the crowd of boobs at my preview screening, who were unable to grasp inside music jokes about things like "Buffalo Springfield."  John C. Reilly, not anyone's idea of a leading man (which is part of the spoof, people), plays the titular Cox, whose career we see via clichéd flashback displayed over several centuries.  The obvious parallels of fun-poking can be drawn to Ray and Walk the Line, which makes the irony over droolers not getting the joke extra rich because they probably adored those two films and their formulaic blueprints which are mocked by Apatow and his crew.  PSB says 7

Charlie Wilson's War - This is one of those films that I find tough to write about.  It's pleasant enough, and it was certainly made well.  But, aside from the scene-stealing performance of Philip Seymour Hoffman, memories of War fizzle by the time you get to the theatre parking lot.  Tom Hanks is good, but looks like he's on auto-pilot.  I'm still not sure why Julia Roberts was in it, other than a blatant attempt to cram as many Oscar winners onto the marquee as possible.  There are laughs, yes, but they're the kinds of laughs that quickly subside instead of sticking to your ribs like a big peanut butter 'n' McLovin sandwich.  I guess this is the stuff adults find insanely funny?  This would also explain how Jay Leno continues to do well in the ratings.  For some reason, I still liked it, though.  PSB says 7

The Bucket List - While War is content with a safe shot up the middle of the fairway, List is an ugly slice off into the deepest part of a creepy forest.  Once you get past the star power (Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman), List might be the cinematic embodiment of everything I hate.  It's like a cross between My Name Is Earl and The Amazing Race, only with two guys dying from cancer.  And without the soul, heart, or brains.  I'm still baffled at how a guy can go from making This Is Spinal Tap, The Princess Bride, and Stand by Me to absolutely unforgivable pap like this.  But thank you, Meathead, for making all of my dreams come true.  PSB says 3

There Will Be Blood - I think there were three or four films better than P.T. Anderson's Blood in theatres this year, but none of them were as simultaneously exhilarating and disturbing while leading me to a place I wasn't sure I wanted to go.  Daniel Day-Lewis double-reverse dunks it with the year's best performance as an oilman who works his way up from filthy ditch-digger to a man who can (and probably will) buy you and sell you a million times over, at least if he doesn't just crush you with his bare hands.  Amazing photography, and a crazy (read: good) dissonant score from Radiohead's Jonny Greenwood.  Can't wait to see it again, so I can gush more about it.  Get it?  Gush?  Forget it.  Have a crappy New Year.  PSB says 9