The film follows the titular Kubo (voice of Art Parkinson, “San Andreas”), a young boy who is warned by his mother to never stay out after dark, or his aunts and grandfather the “Moon King” (voice of Ralph Fiennes, “Hail, Caesar!”) shall steal his remaining eye, as he did the first when he was an infant. When he inevitably stays out after dark, Kubo is sent upon a quest to retrieve three magical items in order to protect himself. He is joined by Monkey (voice of Charlize Theron, “The Huntsman: Winter’s War”) and the samurai-bug hybrid Beetle (voice of Matthew McConaughey, “Interstellar”) who defend him as well as help harness his abilities. I’m painting broad strokes here because there’s a lot to give away and it’s best to enjoy all the surprises Kubo and the Two Strings has to offer.

Laika has always excelled at stop-motion animation, but their efforts here are nothing short of breathtaking. From aesthetic, to Monkey’s hair, to the excellent (but not excessive) action sequences. This is one of those cases where a film works best in animation, and were it a live-action film, it would be a downgrade. It even includes the largest stop-motion puppet ever used in an animated film like this. You’ll know it when you see it.

Eastern influence on western animation is nothing new. “Samurai Jack” and “Avatar: The Last Airbender” are among the better examples of this, but authenticity is not an easy thing to project. Too many times have animated films or series taken liberties from a particular style without truly understanding the cultural foundation. Or in worst cases, doing it for the sake of pandering to that particular demographic. Kubo and the Two Strings is not rich with style, it is a primary function in and of itself.

Beyond the film’s visuals, it also manages to tell a well-rounded story, which doesn’t talk down to younger audiences. There are dark sequences in this film for children to see — it feels like a film from another time, when we could respect a child’s intelligence and threshold for more serious subject matter. Though it’s not without it’s problems. There are three twists within the film and two of them are pitifully obvious and far too easy. The second of which makes the progression of the story and events far too convenient, though it does disguise this with a clever plot device early on. It also falls into the trap of contriving the protagonist into a master of his or her particular skill so we can get the final confrontation underway.

None of these hamper the big picture, but they are notable sticking points in an otherwise faultless product. The cast is commendable, though there were times when the celebrities’ inexperience with voice work began to surface. That being said, in a world where celebrities are given voice work better suited to far more experienced voice-over artists, this is a cut above the norm. Charlize Theron especially shines as Monkey, and her interactions with Kubo are among the most touching as well as funny.

Most importantly, this film knows when to breathe. There are scenes for the characters to rest, and for the audience to absorb the atmosphere, appreciate the beauty. The first act in particular eases you into the world and intelligently establishes its rules. There is no forced, cringe-worthy humor like seen in “Ice Age: Collision Course.” Yes, like that feature, there is a comic relief character who comes in the form of Beetle here, but at no point does he become overbearing or obnoxious.

And because of this, I fear this film might be too . . . sophisticated. Kubo and the Two Strings is the type of film, that despite its abundant qualities, may not fair well at the box office compared to more pandering animated outings (without naming more names). This reminds me of the financial shortcomings Studio Ghibli often struggled with before it closed its doors. I’ve been wrong before, though, and hope to be again.

While I feel like “The Boxtrolls,” Laika’s previous outing, was an underwhelming follow-up to the excellent “Coraline” and even better “ParaNorman,” they’ve more than made up for it. Kubo and the Two Strings is not only the best animated film of the year, but undoubtedly the best film I’ve seen all year as well. If they can keep this up, then we’re in for a world of innovative wonder. More like this, please.

It’s also made clear that Jakob isn’t well-respected in the area, as he’s taunted by a group of bikers for never using his gun. One evening, upon returning home, he finds a package for “Lonely Wolf” waiting for him, and soon after receives a strange phone call from someone asking if he had opened it yet. The caller claims the parcel as his own, and asks Jakob to bring it to him. When Jakob arrives at the meeting location (a dilapidated home, unsurprisingly), he discovers a strange, lanky, wild man in a white dress who extracts a samurai sword from the delivery. This titular samurai (Pit Bukowski) escapes, leaping in front of a moving train and leaving Jakob a bloody pathway to follow on a posted park guide map. He, too, taunts Jakob, yet, at the same time, he tempts Jakob to join him and to release his own dark repressed urges . . .

Written and directed by Till Kleinert, Der Samurai is a strange trip of a horror film — at times darkly hilarious, and at times psychologically troubling. The editing and camerawork are well-executed, with some really great parallels explored between Jakob and the strange man he pursues. Jakob’s journey through the night figuratively and literally changes who he is as the samurai lures him further out of his comfort zone and into his wake of wanton destruction and murder. Jakob claims those killed are innocent victims; the samurai calls them “miscreants” who are holding back from their true purpose — they are “corks” holding in their spirits. The spattering of these village folk are empty placeholders who serve no purpose other than victimization, because Der Samurai is all about Jakob’s cat-and-mouse chase; what’s unclear, however, is which role he truly plays in the game. A game in which the cross-dressing samurai’s smirks and intense stares sharply contrast Jakob’s wide-eyed dedication to protecting his village.

Der Samurai is a movie worth seeing even if you’re convinced you’re over the werewolf horror trope. It has its flaws — the story plods along clumsily in some parts and there is an initial struggle to figure out the central focus of the film — yet there’s merit in the main performances (Bukowski inhabits his role hauntingly well) and overall staging. While there are certainly some odd moments that make you chuckle to yourself — even aside from the ubiquitous samurai beheadings — Kleinert’s short psychological tale is one that demands your attention throughout and remains with you well after the credits begin to roll.

Kenshin is a tough character of undeniable strength and will. After all, he’s left his loved ones and all he knows behind in order to devote himself to “the cause of peace.” He soon finds out, however, that he still has a few lessons to learn. His mentor, Hiko Seijuro (Masaharu Fukuyama, “Like Father, Like Son”) teaches him the importance of being able to win his battles without killing his opponents, a task that seems a bit of a tall order quite frankly (especially if you are familiar with the period in which this takes place). He also learns that he has to find “the will to live” in order to become the most successful fighter he can be. He’ll need this knowledge for sure, but the lack of any real action makes one wish he learned his lesson in half the time.

When the time finally comes though, Satô, a beautiful elfin actor, fights his way through each battle he finds himself in with the grace of a ballerina. In fact the whole production is a stunning and balletic piece which simultaneously manages to maintain a horrific dramatic presence alongside said beauty. One such fight scene as an example comprises of a breath-taking, fluid shot in which a character punches his way through a tower of boxes until they reach the floor, and then in the next moment we are taken back to Shishio’s dirtied, bloodied and bandaged face thirsting for more violence.

It is this realization of well choreographed sword fights and bodily fluids splayed upon the screen that takes Rurouni Kenshin: The Legend Ends successfully from the paper of the manga page to the reality of the big screen. As each character does battle they become sweaty, dirty and bruised. There’s no “après-fight” perfect hair for anyone in this story. You really get a sense of how much these characters are being physically tested throughout their journey.

Yet, in spite of how impressive the fight scenes are, the grand finale fight goes on for far too long and could do without the continuous annoying grunting from Shishio. The battles are also disappointingly a “male only” zone. Women’s only purpose seems to be to nurse the brave warriors back to health, or to help support them (literally) on their way home from war. At one point it looks like things are about to change when a female character steps out into the arena only to “get in the way” of Shishio’s sword (Shishio goes through her with it in order to try and kill his adversary standing behind her). On her death bed she states that she’s happy it’s happened as it means she’s finally been of use in a fight. Even the women in the film are crying out for a piece of the action and getting in the way to be needlessly killed is the best deal that they can get!

The first two chapters in the Rurouni Kenshin trilogy — “Rurouni Kenshin” and “Rurouni Kenshin: Kyoto Inferno” — have been a phenomenal success. They’ve gone beyond the expectations of the devoted manga fans (even though they do not remain wholly faithful to the source) and their popularity has swept through Japan with unparalleled speed. With that in mind, although it has its flaws, Rurouni Kenshin: The Legend Ends is destined for success. It also stands tall as a well-rounded film in its own right.

Love, forbidden.

The weathered feudal Japanese tale of ronin seeking revenge for their fallen lord, one would think, lends itself nicely to the themes of fantasy. Samurai, their unwavering courage and swordsmanship intertwined with magical elements and mystical creatures represents a marriage made in heaven. Unfortunately, in director Carl Rinsch’s 47 Ronin, this marriage does little justice to spice up this beloved story for the masses hungry for such imagery.

The foundation starts off well enough, though. After a fast-paced hunt for a multi-whiskered, wild maned bull-like creature ravaging the countryside, the cast of characters is introduced. Of them, the only standout is Kai (Keanu Reeves, “Man of Tai Chi“), and that’s only because he is a half-breed — part Caucasian, part Japanese and raised by demons it’s whispered — and is reminded of his standing on a constant basis. Oh, there are others too, like master samurai Ôishi (Hiroyuki Sanada, “The Wolverine“), lord of the lands Asano (Min Tanaka, star of various Japanese films) and his lovely daughter Mika (Kô Shibasaki, also a star of various Japanese films and television shows) who just so happens to have a secret (that’s not so much of a secret) love for Kai.

Evil is afoot, however, coming in the form of a shapeshifting witch (Rinko Kikuchi, “Pacific Rim“) who serves a scheming warlord named Kira (Tadanobu Asano, “Thor: The Dark World“). He wants the lands of Asano and the hand of his daughter in marriage. Some suspect CGI in the form of a poisonous spider gets the ball rolling that ends with a magical samurai golem besting Kai in a tournament battle and Asano committing hari-kari for breaking contest rules and offending Kira. Asano’s force, now masterless, are banished to the outlying countryside as ordered by Shogun Tsunayoshi (Cary-Hiroyuki Tagawa, “Balls of Fury“). At least the expanse of the Japanese outdoors is picturesque enough and framed well by John Mathieson’s cinematography because it’s one of the few things well done in 47 Ronin.

It is a quick realization that 43 (and it could be argued even more) of the ronin, while mesmerizing to watch hack and slash to exhaustion, are of no importance to the audience so when they sacrifice themselves for the cause there is no emotional response. The movie could have just as easily been called “13 Ronin” or “650 Ronin” and viewers would be none the wiser to the change. There is also some narrative trickery at play. Reeves — who enjoys star-billing in his movies even if undeserved — is given the focus, but technically his arc is secondary to that of Ôishi who is responsible for regrouping and leading the revenge. Reeves’ character is clearly an addon to the story, in place to give a name American audiences can recognize, create an unnecessary forbidden love element that literally goes nowhere (again for the American audience) and introduce white magic to versus the black magic of Rinko Kikuchi.

Bringing the fight.

Coming off what I believe was a poor performance in “Pacific Rim,” Kikuchi shows she can at least tackle a sexy evil role light on dialogue. Much of the big budget effects of 47 Ronin are in support of her (which also made her part all the more palatable) — the aforementioned spider scene is started with a finely crafted smoke and fabric metamorphosis and later in the movie her grand transformation comes in the form of a fiery dragon that isn’t afforded nearly enough air time.

And therein lies the biggest offense of 47 Ronin — it doesn’t do the fantastic or the serious well enough. Many scenes due a punch from powerful visual effects are either neutered (the climax unmistakably being one) or poorly crafted (a temple encounter with supernatural monks is jaw-droppingly awful). And the “factual” parts try just a little too hard to be poignant. There’s probably enough collectively in the movie to please some in the D&D crowd but the majority will feel cheated. Unlike the ronin it depicts, 47 Ronin does not deliver on what it promised.

47 Ronin stars Keanu Reeves, Hiroyuki Sanada, Rinko Kikuchi, Cary-Hiroyuki Tagawa, Kô Shibasaki, Tadanobu Asano and Togo Igawa.

Official Synopsis:
After a treacherous warlord kills their master and banishes their kind, 47 leaderless samurai vow to seek vengeance and restore honor to their people. Driven from their homes and dispersed across the land, this band of Ronin must seek the help of Kai (Keanu Reeves) — a half-breed they once rejected — as they fight their way across a savage world of mythic beasts, shape-shifting witchcraft and wondrous terrors.

As this exiled, enslaved outcast becomes their most deadly weapon, he will transform into the hero who inspires this band of outnumbered rebels to seize eternity.

47 Ronin rises in US theaters on December 25, 2013 and UK theaters on December 26, 2013.

Versus the Silver Samurai.

He clawed his way to the top of the superhero cinema heap more than a decade ago, back when Marvel properties were just starting their big screen takeover, but that’s a height Wolverine hasn’t reached in years. The lovably rugged X-Man had the misfortune of participating in the stinker “X-Men: The Last Stand” in 2006 and then later starred in his atrocious solo effort, the 2009 disaster “X-Men Origins: Wolverine.” Now he’s back in the simply titled The Wolverine, a second solo picture that’s a mild improvement on his previous two movies and yet still a forgettable, lazy endeavor. Hugh Jackman’s fifth significant appearance as the angry hero arrives with the usual commitment by the actor, but there’s little to commend here beyond a stab at longevity.

Picking up after the events of “The Last Stand,” Jackman’s Logan, having ditched his titular persona, is back to being a loner and a drifter, hiding out in the mountains where he can have cheesy encounters with CGI bears. Haunted by memories of Famke Janssen’s Jean, the love interest whose fate was clumsily sealed in “The Last Stand,” Logan is now determined to live the rest of his life independent of human connections. It’s a dreary place to start, but the only tragedy I could identify with in the opening minutes of the movie was the devastating effect the digital age has had on bear performers. One look at the blatantly pixelated creature was enough to make me mourn the days when a bear was played by (gasp!) a bear.

But that’s apparently missing the point, because this particular bear is just a gateway to an action scene that kicks off the plot. Logan meets the sword-wielding Yukio (Rila Fukushima), who convinces him to accompany her back to Japan, where a dying man from Logan’s past awaits. Once there, our hero finds himself embroiled in a conflict that spans several generations, as Logan’s old pal Yashida (Haruhiko Yamanouchi) is on his death bed with the future of his massive tech corporation a mystery that has aroused the interest of the Yakuza. Added to this is an offer by Yashida to rob Logan of his healing superpower so he can finally, naturally reach the end of his long, tortured life.

Mortality is a prevalent theme in The Wolverine and the plot establishes plenty of angles from which to glimpse the subject at hand. But while director James Mangold tries to take his time with the drama, the whole movie feels locked into a standard blockbuster model that gives the narrative a lurching, lumbering lack of sensitivity. He isn’t afraid to linger in the realm of romance and drama (he dedicates plenty of time to scenes that don’t rely on adamantium claws and digital effects) and this approach lends The Wolverine slight touches of originality in terms of mediocre superhero flicks, a minor accomplishment that would be more impressive if the drama actually had any punch.

There are some shreds of chemistry between Jackman and co-star Tao Okamoto, who plays potential new lover Mariko, Yashida’s daughter and the target of some nasty Yakuza members. This helps early on when the movie shows the couple settling into a hidden life that sees Logan briefly immersed in Japanese culture. There are even a few scenes where Mangold chooses to expel subtitles during Japanese speech, a smartly simple way to align our experience with Logan’s. These positive steps forward are proof that Mangold is putting in some effort, but it’s not enough to save the complete package from delving into predictable, pedestrian territory.

Other supporting cast members struggle to make an impression, but their shortcomings can mainly be blamed on the script by Mark Bomback and Scott Frank. Too many characters end up doing too many similar things, with a bunch of underwritten roles all being melted down to mere obstacles for Logan to pummel. Svetlana Khodchenkova’s femme fatale Viper stands out more than most, but only to emerge as perhaps the script’s biggest offence as a mutant who spits out exposition almost as ridiculously as she spews sparkly green pixels that are meant to represent venom.

Ready for action.

With so many people to beat up, Wolverine has his claws full. Mangold’s action sequences are all over the place here, ranging from completely underwhelming to surprisingly fun, sometimes in the span of just a few minutes. One crowd sequence that turns into a major attack is achingly drab, but then it soon sends us hurtling across the roof of a bullet train where Logan must dig his claws in to the metal to stay safely anchored. This latter portion is temporarily refreshing and a fine hint at the kind of entertainment Mangold is capable of and yet too rarely provides.

The Wolverine is easily watchable enough to let the hero rise above his last two junk outings, but that speaks more to the depth of the pit he was in before than to the measly heights he reaches here. Jackman is still game and Mangold has a few decent ideas and then the positives dry up pretty quickly from there. If Wolverine has any cinematic energy left in his frame, then he’s releasing it in dully diminished doses. By the time his latest adventure turns into a clash of metal titans, the franchise is back to baffling in how far off the mark it still is. I sort of feel sorry for the character. Even when he shows improvement, his movie still winds up a limp mess. As one character states while surveying the cacophonous silliness that marks the finale, “This is madness.” Yup. I agree.