Sorry I missed last week, y’all.  Some of you have been asking for my opinion on the Oscar nominations, especially the ten Best Picture nominees.  I actually like it, and here’s why.  With the five spots, the way it’s broken down, more or less, the last few years, is to reserve one for the Weinstein Prestige Picture, one for an upstart indie, and three for studio “independent” movies.  Now, you’ve got room for the deserving Pixar movie, more independents, and Hollywood can reward good blockbusters—hopefully encouraging more The Dark Knights and fewer Transformers 2s.  I will have a rundown of the Best Picture nominees closer to Oscar time.  For now, here’s what’s on the Docket for your movie week.

Dear John:  What happened to Lasse Hallstrom?  Lasse used to be Bob and Harvey’s go-to guy for Oscar Bait:  The Cider House Rules, Chocolat, The Shipping News.  The problem is that his movies are, in the immortal words of Mel Gibson, boring as a dog’s ass.  So, rather than comparing Golden Globes gift bags with Johnny Depp and Michael Caine, Lasse’s been reduced to opening Nicholas Sparks adaptation in February.  Starring GI Joe and the chick that made out with Megan Fox in that one movie that nobody cares about except for the fact that Megan Fox made out with some chick in it.

Valentine’s Day:  Or, Valentine’s Day, Actually.  Or maybe She’s Just Not That In To Valentine’s Day.  This one is brought to you by the unabashedly estrogized Garry Marshall, who made prostitution adorable in Pretty Woman.  At least Richard Curtis’ Love, Actually had some Altman-esque ambitions to its sprawling, multi-story structure—including a memorable performance by Billy Nighy as Billy Mack, the depressed Jagger-lipped popstar who scores an unexpected Christmas hit, and Billy Bob Thornton as the POTUS who gropes Prime Minister Hugh Grant’s secretary.  I suspect that Marshall just wants to throw some stars at housewives five minutes at a time.

Percy Jackson & The Olympians:  The Lightning Thief: I don’t mean to be such a downer this week, but here’s how you know this is going to suck:  Chris Columbus.  Not the genocide guy with the national holiday, but the hack director of Home Alone, some unspeakably crappy Robin Williams movies—and, most relevant for our purposes, the two worst Harry Potter movies.  Columbus fell in love the special effects arsenal Warner Bros. put at his disposal, developing none of the characters and flattening the story.  Expect the same with poor Percy.   

The Wolfman:  Looks like a classier version of Van Helsing, doesn’t it?  But with Benicio Del Toro in a high-tech The Howling.  Unfortunately, almost all big budget films with starpower released in February are deeply flawed.  That’s why they’re released in February.