Armed only with his mysterious mental connection to the feral minds of studio executives, the Movie Guru reveals just how good or bad this week's new releases will be:

Bringing Down the House (PG-13)
Lonely, divorced tax attorney Steve Martin meets a charmer on the Internet, who turns out to be jailbird Queen Latifah. When she breaks out of prison and inserts herself into his middle-class life, hijinx ensue.
Prediction: Given Martin's history of mediocre movies in which he plays the uptight, white, middle-class, middle-age guy (Father of the Bride, Housesitter), expect more of the same, or maybe less.

The Guru (R)
A young Indian dance teacher (Jimi Mistry) heads to New York City seeking fame and fortune, but winds up a waiter in an Indian restaurant. Thanks to meeting porn star (Heather Graham! Remember Boogie Nights?), and getting cast in a porn movie, the guy is mistaken for a guru—the Sex Guru, to be precise—and becomes an overnight celebrity. Naturally he face a dilemma: Popularity or love?
Prediction: This actually came out in 2002. Reviewer consensus seems to be: way too many plot elements and the pacing consequently suffers, but Jimi Mistry shines, Graham steams, and a sincere light-heartedness carries the day.

Tears of the Sun (R)
An elite mercenary squad led by Richard Burton- Wait, that was The Wild Geese in the '70s. Okay, um, a regrouped bunch of Viet Nam war veterans, led by Gene Hackman- Wait, that was Uncommon Valor in the '80s. Errr, lessee, ah...In WWII, a reluctant captain (Tom Hanks) leads his unit to find- No, that was Saving Private Ryan in the '90s. All right, this is 2003, the guy in charge is Bruce Willis, and the setting is Nigeria.
Prediction: Explosions. Daring. Bullets. Bravery. Rockets. Self-sacrifice. Grenades. Willis looking alternately grim, world-weary, and pained.

Bourne Again

Last summer, critics and audiences alike loved The Bourne Identity (2002, PG-13). Matt Damon stars as an amnesiac found floating in the Mediterranean Sea with bullet holes in his back and a Swiss bank account number surgically implanted in his hip. After being rescued and recovering from his wounds, he makes his way to Zurich. In a bank lock-box bearing the number from his hip, he finds bundles of money, several sets of false passports, and a gun. He assumes the name on the first passport he opens, Jason Bourne, takes the money, and leaves. Ah, but somebody has been watching, and an attempt is made to stop him.

Bad move. Instincts take over, and before you can say "Matrix Reloaded" he's decommissioned everybody in sight and hooked up with a footloose girl who gives him a ride to Paris for $20,000. Because she's a free-spirited "gypsy," she sticks with him even when it comes out that he's an amoral assassin. Meanwhile, the head of a shadowy U.S. agency that "created" Bourne activates a bunch of similar secret agents to track him down and take him out before he attracts more attention. Flight and fights ensue.

Bourne has less plot than the average Austin Powers flick. Damon invests the title role with less personality than a wooden nickel. Motivations are scant at best. Sure, it's fast-paced, and the fight sequences are exciting, but as a movie, Bourne is a good wax job. It's all polished and shiny, but it's just a veneer. It has no soul.

I hate to admit it, but the 1988 miniseries of the same name—starring Richard Chamberlain and Jacilyn Smith, for heaven's sake!—is better. Chamberlain gives Bourne humanity and a real desire to know who he is, or was. Smith's character is at least given a motivation to help the man who is at first her captor. There is a plot—a tangled, confusing, improbable plot. The action sequences look like things mere mortals might do. Yes, it's melodrama, but it's competent melodrama.

—Scott McNutt

March 6, 2003 * Vol. 13, No. 10
© 2000 Metro Pulse