This Means War (McG, 2012)

Tom Hardy, Reese Witherspoon, and Chris Pine in This Means War

Cast: Reese Witherspoon, Chris Pine, Tom Hardy, Til Schweiger, Chelsea Handler, John Paul Ruttan, Abigail Spencer, Angela Bassett, Rosemary Harris, George Touliatos. Screenplay: Timothy Dowling, Simon Kinberg, Marcus Gautesen. Cinematography: Russell Carpenter. Production design: Martin Laing. Film editing: Nicolas De Toth. Music: Christoph Beck.

Professionalism consists of doing your best even when the task assigned to you isn't worthy of your talents. This Means War certifies the professionalism of Tom Hardy, Chris Pine, and Reese Witherspoon, who do every absurd thing and speak every inane line that they're given as if the project warranted their full commitment. The experience of making the film caused Hardy to vow that he'll never do another rom-com, and it's likely that Pine and Witherspoon don't highlight the movie on their résumés. The film is, in short, a terrible mess, a mashup of action movie and sex farce, almost unwatchable except for the sheer charisma of its three principles. Its chief virtue, aside from the handsome performers, is that it's short: only 97 minutes, after being reduced from a director's cut of 107 minutes. This reduction seems to have jettisoned the backstory about the bad guys who put the three leads in jeopardy, making the film less coherent but probably more tolerable. Once upon a time, the presence of Hardy, Pine, and Witherspoon -- as well as such skilled performers as Angela Bassett and Rosemary Harris in barely there supporting roles -- would have been easy to explain: Under the studio system, stars were obligated by their contracts to do what they were handed. But that system vanished half a century ago, and nothing can justify wasting the time and talent of actors like these on This Means War.

Mud (Jeff Nichols, 2012)

Jacob Lofland, Matthew McConaughey, and Tye Sheridan in Mud

Cast: Matthew McConaughey, Tye Sheridan, Jacob Lofland, Reese Witherspoon, Sam Shepard, Ray McKinnon, Sarah Paulson, Michael Shannon, Joe Don Baker, Paul Sparks, Bonnie Sturdivant. Screenplay: Jeff Nichols. Cinematography: Adam Stone. Production design: Richard A. Wright. Film editing: Julie Monroe. Music: David Wingo.

Mud is often cited as the beginning of the "McConaughnaissance" -- i.e., the start of the resurgence of Matthew McConaughey's career after a spell of vapid romantic comedies and forgotten action movies. His scruffy and sly but deeply self-deluding title character -- we never learn his full name, or even if he has one -- is not so much a departure from his previous persona as it is a new spin on the good looks and charisma of his earlier roles. It would take a physical transformation in Dallas Buyers Club (Jean-Marc Vallée, 2013) to earn him an Oscar, but what that film, along with Mud and his much-talked-about performance in the 2014 TV series True Detective, really proved is that good actors need good scripts. And Jeff Nichols's screenplay for Mud is a good one, even if it falls back at the end on a conventional shootout and happy ending. Nichols has acknowledged that the river setting and the role played by two boys in the story are inspired by Mark Twain. Tye Sheridan as the Tom Sawyer analogue named Ellis and Jacob Lofland as the Huck Finn equivalent called Neckbone are superbly natural performers. Sam Shepard brings his usual gravitas to the part of the enigmatic Tom Blankenship, but Reese Witherspoon and Sarah Paulson are wasted in the chief female roles.

Inherent Vice (Paul Thomas Anderson, 2014)

I haven't read the Thomas Pynchon novel on which Anderson's film is based, but I've read enough Pynchon to know that his work is founded on a kind of literary playfulness for which there's no cinematic equivalent or even substitute. What Anderson gives us is a kind of loosey-goosey spoof of the private eye genre that works as well as it does because of brilliant casting. Joaquin Phoenix is perfect as Doc Sportello, the perpetually stoned P.I. who is trying to figure out what's going on with his ex-girlfriend Shasta Fay Hepworth (Katherine Waterston) while butting heads with a police detective, "Bigfoot" Bjornsen (Josh Brolin). The time is the 1970s, with Nixon as president and Reagan as California governor, and Anderson milks the period paranoia about drugs and law and order for all it's worth. The plot is as murky as a Raymond Chandler novel, which links the movie with two distinguished predecessors, The Big Sleep (Howard Hawks, 1946) and The Long Goodbye (Robert Altman, 1973), which really were based on Chandler novels. Inherent Vice isn't as good as either of those films: It's a little too long and a little too caught up in the cleverness of its spoofery. But there's always something or someone -- the cast includes Benicio Del Toro, Owen Wilson, Reese Witherspoon, and Martin Short, among others -- to watch. Brolin is a hoot as Bigfoot: With his crew cut and perpetually clenched jaw he looks for all the world like Dick Tracy -- or maybe Al Capp's parody of Dick Tracy, Fearless Fosdick.