Nick Nolte, Russell Brand and Jennifer Garner in 'Arthur.'  "Mirthless" is not the kind of adjective that makes its way onto full-page movie ads, but it's the most charitable way of describing the new "Arthur," a remake of the celebrated 1981 comedy about a wealthy wastrel's eviction from dipsomaniacal paradise by his family and Liza Minnelli. It's always been a problematic premise: Dudley Moore's original Arthur Bach, dissolute heir to an Old New York fortune, was gleefully unburdened by aspirations, or stress, or work, and he had enough money to remain that way. His only concern was how quickly he could slip into the next tumbler of scotch. He may not have been a role model. But he was certainly a guilty pleasure.  Watch a clip from the modern day remake of the classic Dudley Moore comedy. Starring Russell Brand and Helen Mirren. Courtesy Warner Bros.  There's no reason to feel guilty about the updated "Arthur," directed by Jason ("Modern Family") Winer, except for the seemingly endless amount of time one spends with Russell Brand. The suddenly ubiquitous Mr. Brand was fast becoming Hollywood's go-to guy for debauched Brits ("Forgetting Sarah Marshall," "Get Him to the Greek"), before someone decided to make him adorable—a horrifying idea, made worse by his casting in a movie which, at this point in our social evolution, might just as well have been made on another planet. No one outside of the filmmakers, apparently, need to be told that ever since Mr. Moore made drunkenness hilarious, there have been seismic shifts in attitude and opinion regarding substance abuse, addiction, 12-step programs, general health, etc. etc.—call it the New Puritanism, call it good sense—to which the new "Arthur" seems fairly oblivious. The very idea of this movie suffers from a form of myopia that simply can't be overcome. And, of course, all would be forgiven, if only the thing were funny.  John Jurgensen tells us what's new about the remake of the 1981 film "Arthur" which hits movie theaters on Friday, including how Russell Brand manages to fill Dudley Moore's shoes as the main character.  It is not. Arthur is still a good-natured drunkard: When he and his chauffeur, Bitterman (Luis Guzman) take Arthur's Batmobile on a tear through Lower Manhattan and collide with the Wall Street Bull (whose anatomical correctness is the movie's first "joke" and an indication of where we're going) even the cops are happy to see him—although you suspect that Arthur's barracuda-impersonator of a mother, Vivienne (Geraldine James), is making large and frequent contributions to the Patrolmen's Benevolent Association. Vivienne wants Arthur to marry Susan (Jennifer Garner), because the voracious Susan is just what the family firm needs to maintain the kind of client confidence and loyalty the company's heir presumptive is causing to evaporate like last New Year's tequila shooter. Arthur is despondent at the prospect that his life's work, i.e. despoiling women and Manhattan, will be interrupted. But under his mother's threat of instant poverty he becomes affianced anyway, at an engagement party that almost makes one sympathetic for Susan (Ms. Garner is quite the convincing villainess). Then—ta-da—Arthur rescues an about-to-be-arrested damsel in distress, Naomi ("mumblecore" maiden Greta Gerwig), a Grand Central Terminal tour guide who lacks a city permit but has a personality Arthur can't resist. The police—again, the police—practically hail the happy couple a cab. And our hero's transition from tottering reprobate to upstanding citizen is under way.  Was Arthur ever really happy? That, of course, is—and was—the question. Mr. Moore's Arthur was so busy laughing at his own jokes it was hard not to laugh along with him. But there's nothing infectious, comedically speaking at least, about Mr. Brand's Arthur. The dialogue is virtually wit-free. All playfulness is forced. In a feeble concession to the times, Arthur has to see the light long before it's dramatically necessary, which burdens what should be a silly comedy with a ball and chain of righteousness. Even Helen Mirren, a casting choice so obvious it hurts, can't alchemize the role of Hobson (which won John Gielgud an Oscar) into much besides a humorless scold. And even for a New York fantasy, the situations are ridiculous enough to be offensive: At one point, Arthur "rents" the cavernous main concourse of Grand Central so he and Naomi can dine there alone. It's too absurd an idea even to be cute, and the admission that he's delayed 100 commuter trains in order to pull off his little stunt exemplifies the tone-deafness that affects the whole enterprise. Alcohol and ostentation? Not a recipe for a lot of laughs.  Dennis Quaid and AnnaSophia Robb in 'Soul Surfer.'  Watch a clip from "Soul Surfer" about a competitive surfer who finds the courage to go back into the water after losing an arm in a shark attack.  No one actually walks on water during the fact-based sports drama "Soul Surfer," but the Christian signifiers arrive with the regularity of waves slamming against the Hawaiian shoreline. It was there, in 2003, that up-and-coming teen surfer Bethany Hamilton lost an arm in a shark attack, and not only recovered but went on to surf competitively again. It's a great story, one told with a great deal of polish and passion by director Sean McNamara, adapted from Ms. Hamilton's memoir (co-written with Sheryl Berk and Rich Bundschuh). The movie is bright, blue and buoyant. And it has a religious agenda as wide as the ocean.  Which does not, of course, make "Soul Surfer" a bad movie. Far from it. Even if you instinctively resist the kind of subtle proselytizing that goes on throughout the film—the prayers, the hymns, the Bibles, the implied heavenly guidance, the prominent placement of the evangelical organization World Vision—its bubbling optimism and spectacular scenery are hard not to like. But "Soul Surfer" is also part of a growing movement dedicated to making and distributing Christian films in the mainstream, films that don't advertise their spirituality but carry a very distinct religious message nonetheless. And once your antennae are up, of course, everything becomes symbolic. The shark attack, for instance, comes almost directly after Bethany—given an energetic portrayal by AnnaSophia Robb—decides not to go on a church charity trip organized by her pastor Sarah (country music star Carrie Underwood). Having her pay a price for choosing the good of her surfing sponsor over the good of the poor in Mexico is rather graceless, as storytelling goes. It seems oddly coincidental, too, that in a movie teeming with churchly blondes, including Bethany's mother (Helen Hunt), the one meanspirited character in the movie—Bethany's rival Malina Birch (Sonya Balmores Chung)—is also the darkest of skin and blackest of hair. She also wears black, in case you've missed the point.  Watch a clip from 'Hanna,' a thriller about a young girl trained to be a soldier. Courtesy Focus Features.  A very different kind of blonde is at the center of the Joe Wright's globe-trotting assassin thriller "Hanna," which, before collapsing into itself like a black hole, is one moody, shiny, exciting romp. A major departure for a director known for very proper British fare—including "Pride and Prejudice" and "Atonement"—"Hanna" is quite the improper little package, stylish, rich in singular images and one that carries itself with both the bravado of a spy thriller and the winsomeness of a fairy tale. It is a child's story, after all, albeit with a twist: Hanna (Saoirse Ronan) has been raised in the forests of northern Finland by her father, ex-CIA agent Erik (Eric Bana), to be the world's most efficient assassin, an expert in weaponry, martial arts and strategy. She has killer instinct to spare. Given its fantastic elements, "Hanna" is, on a certain level, ridiculous. But the way Mr. Wright conjures his images and parcels out his narrative is hypnotic and so seductive that wherever the film is heading we want to follow.  The mission for which Hanna has been trained involves a particularly unpleasant and lethal operative named Marissa Wiegler (Cate Blanchett at her most lunatic) whose connections with Erik are old and baroque. The reasons Marissa wants Hanna in her clutches, and what the girl's history means amid all those flashbacks, are less important than the momentum of Mr. Wright's storytelling and action. The problem, as it often is with any vehicle operating at high velocity, is loss of traction: The increasingly implausible "Hanna" can't slow down and ultimately hits the wall of our disbelief. The result? Flaming wreckage. One wants to like "Hanna," for all its thrills and good looks and the performance by the young Ms. Ronan (who received an Oscar nomination for "Atonement"). Also, for Mr. Wright's willingness to take risks which, in this case, don't quite pay off.  Watch a clip from "Born to Be Wild" a 3D IMAX documentary about orphaned elephants and orangoutangs narrated by Morgan Freeman.  For those still wondering what in the world 3-D is good for, the answer is nature—specifically, "Born to Be Wild 3D," a moving, engaging and revelatory IMAX attraction with two heroines and a crowd of charming beasts. Swinging back and forth between Kenya and Borneo, director David Lickley and, yes, narrator Morgan Freeman tell—and, more importantly, show—the work of Daphne M. Sheldrick, who rescues baby elephants whose parents have been killed by poachers; and primatologist Biruté Mary Galdikas, who adopts orphaned orangutans, eventually freeing them into the rainforest of Borneo. The work of Ms. Galdikas and Ms. Sheldrick in returning wild animals to a wild state is the point of the movie, though the two women are not really its stars. Those would be the apes and elephants, a cast of happy, sad, playful, incorrigible children who, when they stare into the camera, communicate an eerily profound connection with the viewer. They seem almost human, as clichéd as that may sound, and that magic seems possible only via the technology used in making this 3-D animal attraction, a movie that provides such an intimate look at the animals it could well put zoos out of business.  Considering the content of so much of what passes for nature entertainment, it need to be noted that this movie is entirely kid- and squeamish-adult friendly; no mammals are injured, nor will they be upset, during the viewing of this motion picture.  This remains the best-known and most influential movie about the ravages of alcoholism, a film that won Oscars for star Ray Milland, screenwriter Charles Brackett and director Billy Wilder, who was inspired to make the film by author Raymond Chandler (who fell off the wagon during the making of "Double Indemnity"). One of only two films to win both the Academy Award for Best Picture and the Cannes Film Festival's Palme d'Or (the other was "Marty"), it incorporated a number of pioneering visual effects, co-starred Jane Wyman, and was based on a story by Charles R. Jackson.  A deep and enduring fondness for martinis never kept Nick Charles (William Powell) from solving a murder case, and wife Nora (Myrna Loy) was never more than a few drinks behind over the course of six delightfully marinated mystery/comedies made by the pair through 1947. Based on the detective novel by Dashiell Hammett (and supposedly based on his relationship with Lillian Hellman), the movie and its sequels reflected a lingering sense of post-Prohibition joy in all the liquor consumed by Nick and Nora, who could probably have drunk the casts of "Animal House," "Cocktail" and "The Big Lebowski" under the table.  A little more humor would probably have helped this multicharacter drama starring comedian Richard Lewis, although its portrayal of an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting is raw and unfiltered. Mr. Lewis plays Jim, whose struggle is the centerpiece of the movie that also features Amanda Plummer, Parker Posey, Dianne Wiest, Spalding Gray and, perhaps most memorably, Faye Dunaway, all of whom portray characters trying to wrestle demon rum to the floor. Peter Cohn directed from Gary Lennon's adaptation of his play, "Blackout."
The qualities that made the original Arthur charming 30 years ago seem sadly out of date in the remake today. Meanwhile, Soul Surfer skillfully rides a religious wave, and the assassin's tale Hanna thrills, then implodes.