MY BLOODY VALENTINE 3-D

You can assume you're in good hands at a modern horror movie when, within its first couple of minutes, that grizzled, '80s-scare-flick veteran Tom Atkins (he of The Fog and Creepshow and Halloween III: Season of the Witch) shows up as a scowling local sheriff. You pretty much know you're in good hands when the very first thing that Atkins growls, upon finding himself ankle-deep in holiday-themed carnage, is "Happy fuckin' Valentine's Day!" And if, by some miraculous happenstance, you get to watch this seminal genre moment occur while wearing 3-D glasses, to boot... . Well, I've seen better movies than My Bloody Valentine 3-D recently, but bless its forcibly-removed heart, I can't remember the last one that made me feel - in a good way - like a 13-year-old again.

In the second weekend of January, we already have our first perfect score of 2009: for Clint Eastwood's Gran Torino.

GRAN TORINO

As much as I love Unforgiven, Million Dollar Baby, and Bronco Billy, I'll admit that I've never been a huge Clint Eastwood fan. (Don't remember Bronco Billy? The 12-year-old in me will never forget it.) Gran Torino, however, is something truly special, a simple - though not simple-minded - and straightforward melodrama that succeeds as both a heartfelt meditation on aging and an exhilarating crowd-pleaser, and Clint is so thrillingly, spectacularly Clint in his latest directorial offering that it's likely his performance won't just please fans, but ensnare a batch of new ones. After catching the movie in Chicagoland during the holidays, I saw it again this past weekend both for the sheer enjoyment of the experience and to see if Gran Torino is really as good as I remembered. It is. (I also wanted to hear lines I originally missed through our raucous audience laughter, but no luck - the cackles were just as loud this time around. Maybe on a third viewing.)

It's commonly understood that not all great movies are necessarily great-time movies, and I think we can all agree that not all great-time movies are necessarily "great." (Formally brilliant and historically essential though they are, I'm not sure I could summon the energy to sit through Intolerance or Triumph of the Will again, and while I love Harold & Kumar Go to White Castle to death, you'll never read 2,000 words on it in Cahiers du cinéma.)