Chatting with Ballet Quad Cities' artistic director Courtney Lyon about the professional dance company's The Scarlet Letter, a world-premiere adaptation of Nathaniel Hawthorne's famed 1850 novel, I'm catching the choreographer early in the rehearsal process. How early? I wind up learning who'll be dancing the ballet's principal roles before the dancers do.

I may have been disappointed in Other Mommy, but it's hardly an ignoble failure, and it was kind of thrilling to see several genre norms smartly upturned before the picture was a half-hour old.

In director Michael Showalter's adaptation of Colleen Hoover's Verity, the title figure is a fabulously wealthy celebrity who appears willing to go to psychotic extremes to get a little peace and quiet. Having now appeared in five films over the past six months, and with a new baby on the way, it's no wonder Anne Hathaway is so good in the role. She must relate to Verity Crawford like crazy.

With Robert Pattinson supplying a demented stare, wicked grin, and one of his signature affected accents, this big-screen Chris Hansen is magisterially icky: sweaty, scary, pathetic, and wholly deserving of the downfall you know is coming.

I'm happy to report that director Susanne Bier's sequel is at least significantly stronger than its forebear, though it's a measure of just how drippy PM1 is that the new outing is still only not-bad, at best.

A few hours after this Deep South thriller mercifully ended, it finally dawned on me who co-star Mark Wahlberg resembled: Alley Oop. That incongruously bulky comic-strip caveman whose jokes are funny only to him.

Our area's professional dance company Ballet Quad Cities has a lot to celebrate at the start of its 30th anniversary, beginning with the September 13 performances of Ballet on the Lawn at Davenport's Outing Club.

I fell in love with Coyote vs. Acme roughly an hour into the picture, when a cartoon map showed a plane's trajectory headed toward the American northwest, after which it suddenly veered east, and the pilot apologized for making that wrong left turn. The plane took off in Albuquerque.

Even if nothing entirely thrilled me, as least nothing this past weekend outright sucked – making this the perfect time for another quintet of 300-word reviews,

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