Corrupt cops may be “in” right now in Hollywood (see this weekend’s new release, “Brooklyn’s Finest,” from “Training Day” director Antoine Fuqua), but my favorite kind of movie cop is a buddy cop.

Michael Corleone, meet Malik El Djebena. I think you’ll find you have a lot in common, especially seeing how you both were so adamant about avoiding the thug life before fate and circumstance dictated otherwise.

If it weren’t for the cars and the telephones and the contemporary small-town setting, “Terribly Happy” could easily be mistaken for an old-fashioned Western. It’s a sort of classic story about a new sheriff coming to town, but not being exactly welcomed with open arms.

Alexis Bledel was a breath of fresh air when she boomeranged from TV’s “Gilmore Girls” to the big screen in “Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants.” But like a lot of young actresses, things quickly went south.

Spooks, from both the metaphysical and espionage worlds, cast an ominous presence over Roman Polanski's “The Ghost Writer,” but it’s the underlying parallels to its author’s real life that prove most haunting.

For the duration of its grim two-hour ride, “Brooklyn’s Finest” is on to something in the vein of “Training Day,” “The Departed” and dash of “Crash.” It is a frenetic and tough police drama that puts the lives of three nearly burnt-out cops on a bloody collision course.

Tim Burton’s bold reinterpretation of “Alice in Wonderland” is the closest approximation to an acid trip you’ll encounter without indulging. Brimming with hallucinogenic imagery and characters you’d swear were sipping LSD-laced tea, Burton’s 3-D opus is sure to take “Fantasia’s” place as a favorite among hard-core stoners.

Based on the books "Alice's Adventures in Wonderland" and "Through the Looking-Glass" by Lewis Carroll, this film comes packed with '60s psychedelic images including a hookah-smoking caterpillar and a floating cat. Imagine "The Wizard of Oz" on hallucinogens and you have an idea of how trippy the film looks.

The star-studded romantic comedy “Valentine’s Day” hits plenty of highs and lows as it tracks several romances – from budding to fully bloomed – over the Hallmark holiday.

If timing is everything, Tze Chun reaps a bonanza with his first feature, “Children of Invention,” an opportune tale of two Chinese-American tykes swept into the vortex of a perfect storm of foreclosures, joblessness and Ponzi schemes.

In the middle of a high-level murder investigation, a low-level FBI agent quips, “This looks to be the work of amateurs.” My only question is, is he talking about the crime or “Formosa Betrayed,” the stilted Reagan-bashing potboiler he’s ensnared in?

So here’s “Cop Out,” yet another offering that pairs two guys on a case and in a car who, you know, love each other, but usually can’t stand being together. The movie’s got an original plot, but little else to make it stand out. And that includes Bruce Willis, who often plays the renegade, but goes against type by sitting back and letting Tracy Morgan do all of the zany stuff.

Like the virus that drives people insane at the center of this horror item’s plot, there’s also a virus in Hollywood that makes producers look for old, perfectly fine movies, then remake them for contemporary audiences.

Here are the nominees for the 82nd Academy Awards. The Oscars Red Carpet coverage will be broadcast live on March 7 at 7 p.m. Central on ABC.

I don’t know about you, but when I think of British police officers, I generally conjure up visions of friendly, unarmed bobbies and sly, cunning detectives, a la Sherlock Holmes. Or, at least that’s the way I used to think before being bombarded with five hours of Brit cops so ruthlessly crooked they make the guys on “The Shield” look like McGruff.

With Martin Scorsese’s new movie, “Shutter Island,” opening this weekend in theaters, and his 1990 movie, “Goodfellas” re-released this week on a 20th anniversary Blu-ray disc, I thought it was a good time to make the argument that “Goodfellas” is the best movie of the last 25 years.

Insanity reigns, or should I say rains, in “Shutter Island,” Martin Scorsese’s waterlogged ode to the cinematic joys of mental illness. Clearly, he’s crazy about this stuff. And you feel that love in every beautifully rendered shot of his admirably understated tale of bedlam inside an isolated Massachusetts state hospital for the criminally deranged. From the costumes to the sets to the acting, everything is sick, as in mad good. Well, everything but the preposterous story supporting it all.

My Valentine’s weekend plans included a lovely dinner and a heaping dose of romantic comedy (via the star-studded “Valentine’s Day”) with my wife. What I got instead was an alcoholic country crooner in “Crazy Heart,” and a seat in a crowded theater, rubbing elbows with someone who actually smelled like Bad Blake looked.

Despite being handed perhaps one of the most intriguing ensembles ever assembled for a cheesy Hollywood movie, Garry Marshall continuously squanders his riches in service of a lame, multistranded story that goes nowhere.

There have been scads of werewolf movies over the years. But someone at Universal decided to dust off the real thing, to do a period piece remake of that first one, but daring to change the title from “The Wolf Man” to “The Wolfman.” There are other changes, too, but that simple shortening of the title is the smartest one.