They start as young cherubs, their round faces full of smiles and innocence. They play, and delve into anything cute and sweet. A few years pass and the Barbies are given up for boys. Life is still childlike, even with the first hints of attraction. But the good gets tired, and in a blink, it's given up for stripper poles, prostitution, degradation, and a feverish desperation to be seen as an adult -- mentally and physically.

Yes, the above path is a bit exaggerated. Young actresses often mix a little thrilling fare in with the sweetness. Nevertheless, there is almost always a swift and destructive crashing of the gate between adolescence and adulthood. One minute, the young actress is all song, dance, and smiling love, and the next, they're fighting for their own spot in the world of Mr. Skin.

We can't exactly blame them. We live in a world rife with contradictions about growing up and being taken seriously. The world of The Breakfast Club and slightly tougher teen fare was replaced with tween limbo and an elongation of sweet teen life. But at the same time, we chide those that take part in Disney's tween world, publish countdown clocks marking the days left until some young actress is legal, and as much as we might complain about them stripping for cred, our complaints fade if the project turns out to be good.

But what does it mean for actresses now and tomorrow? The path is murky.

A few movies out there, specifically Easy Virtue (255 screens), The Brothers Bloom (209 screens) and the new Cheri (opening this week on 80 screens), have taken it upon themselves to try and re-capture something of the style of old movies. Easy Virtue is based on a 1926 Noel Coward play, which was previously filmed by Alfred Hitchcock in 1928. Cheri comes from a 1920 novel written by the creator of Gigi (1958). And The Brothers Bloom is a new, original screenplay but it comes with some of the sensibilities of old films, namely snappy dialogue and hats.

I'm all for this, since many of today's movie fans who name their "all time favorite" films rarely list anything made before 1999. Aside from that at least half the cinema buffs out there is generally aware of a short list of classic films, which includes things like The Godfather, Dr. Strangelove, maybe some Charlie Chaplin or Buster Keaton, Casablanca, etc. And those are, of course, great places to start for those interested in looking at something beyond the IMAX screen. But there's a danger in labeling all that stuff "old movies." Not all of them come with country estates, or hats, or even dialogue.

400 Screens, 400 Blows is a weekly column that takes an in-depth look at the films playing below the radar, beneath the top ten, and on 400 screens or less.

I'm rather dismayed by the huge success of the awful He's Just Not That Into You (21 screens). I mean, I like Bradley Cooper in general, and Justin Long's character is interesting for a while, at least until his stupid Hollywood redemption during the third act. And it does pose an interesting question: if you were married to Jennifer Connelly and had the chance to sleep with Scarlett Johansson, would you do it? I prefer to think of this question as a koan, or an unanswerable riddle meant to be pondered during meditation. Now, I know what you're thinking: this guy just doesn't like chick flicks. Not true. I love chick flicks, provided they're good, which they rarely are. Chick flicks are almost like horror films; the filmmakers have their audience hooked already and so most of them do the minimum amount of work required to crank out another just like the last one.

By now you've probably caught fellow Cinematical writer Dawn Taylor's posts about desiring female Pixar leads and wanting some Bechdel rule-abiding women in Star Trek. Both posts got their share of positive comments, but they also got a slew of knee-jerk reactions and vitriol. I don't want to rehash what Dawn already expressed well, nor get into another argument about specific female characterizations. Instead, I want to look into this neverending trend where any desire for a strong female character leads to complaints and accusations of a political agenda.

Ask for a certain type of female protagonist, discuss inequalities, gripe about the proliferation of poorly developed female characters, and in a flash, comments will pour in with a myriad of political catchwords like: feminist agenda, feminist rants, equality of the sexes, affirmative action, sexist conspiracy, and political correctness. These will be joined by painfully inaccurate sentiments that equate a desire for female success with wanting "every unfulfilled desire," Hollywood bending to charity and catering to specific audiences, wanting to exclude men from film, a lack of acceptance at the equality already reached, and of course, that including strong female protagonists is somehow sacrificing or tainting good work. (All of the reactions mentioned in this paragraph can be found in the comments on Dawn's two posts.)

The fact of the matter is: Wanting interesting and diverse female protagonists is not a political agenda. It's a widespread human trait found in both sexes: the desire to find camaraderie and others who are relatable and recognizable.

Yes, we're genre-flick crazy here at Cinematical!

At Horror Squad

• A Peek at the Friday the 13th Part 4 dvd goodies (and they're great!)
• Some early photos from Blood: The Last Vampire
• Tony Scott talks new Hunger movie
• I get all excited over the new Scorsese film. For a change.
• Discussion: Finest Horror/Sci-Fi Combos?
• Comics to Movies: Deadworld
• Terror Tuesdays Kick Ass in Austin!
• The Horrors of E3!

And gore more!

At SciFi Squad:

• The director of Moon discusses classic science ficion
• Is Predators close to landing a director?
• Was Whedon offered the new Buffy project?
• Del Toro begins his Hobbit casting!
• More Moon!
• JJ Abrams Contemplates Trek 2
• E-Rappe disects Ant-Man! (ew!)
• "Good news, everyone!!"

Warp here!

400 Screens, 400 Blows is a weekly column that takes an in-depth look at the films playing below the radar, beneath the top ten, and on 400 screens or less.

Well, seven seconds has gone by and here I am, thinking about sex again. Not like that, you little perverts... I was thinking about sex in movies. It seems like, lately, the movies have learned to become sexy again. In the late 1960s, it became slowly acceptable to show nudity in American films. By the 1970s, many filmmakers were running with it. At some point during the 1980s and 1990s, some kind of conservative mood took over and the MPAA and other forces began taking sex out of movies, replaced with violence. As one clever soul put it: "if you show a breast, you get an R rating, but if you cut it off, you get a PG-13." Perhaps people have grown tired of conservatism lately because this year has been a good year for sex. In movies.

If you like sexy, funny women, for example, you can do no better than Anna Faris, who played a Playboy bunny last year and this year plays mall makeup countergirl Brandi, who listens to vulgar hip-hop and wears her good-time girl attitude like a revealing halter top. Her sex scene with Seth Rogen in Observe and Report (119 screens) contains so far one of my favorite lines of dialogue this year. She's downed several shots of something or other and a few pills on top of that. She's about 99% passed out as Ronnie Barnhardt (Rogen) pounds away on top of her. He stops, concerned about her well-being: "Brandi?" he asks. Suddenly, from between smears of lipstick: "Why are you stopping, motherf----r?"

400 Screens, 400 Blows is a weekly column that takes an in-depth look at the films playing below the radar, beneath the top ten, and on 400 screens or less.

State of Play (240 screens) continues playing this week, and despite its lukewarm performance and reviews, something about it makes me happy. In mid-2003, I got myself into hot water with a Russell Crowe fan club. I reviewed a very minor film called The Hard Word, starring Guy Pearce, who of course had been Crowe's co-star in L.A. Confidential (1997). I took the opportunity to compare the two actors, praising Pearce for his work in interesting films like Ravenous and Memento, and questioning the much more fashionable Crowe. I did this mainly because I was irritated at the enduring popularity of two terrible films, the sludgy, brooding mess Gladiator (2000) and the manipulative Oscar bait A Beautiful Mind (2001).

I felt that Crowe went through the former film with one single expression, a glower, and through the latter with an unchanging collection of tics and actor's tricks; neither one was a particularly interesting or deep performance. Both performances received Oscar nominations, and Crowe won for Gladiator. I was also irritated that the immeasurably superior Memento, and Pearce, didn't get the same attention. In any case the Crowe fan club grabbed my review, posted it on one of their forums and went to town. I started getting all kinds of angry, nasty e-mails. The fact that I presented one, small opinion contrary to their perfect, orderly world absolutely infuriated them.

400 Screens, 400 Blows is a weekly column that takes an in-depth look at the films playing below the radar, beneath the top ten, and on 400 screens or less.

This week we face an existential crisis as we approach the box office and must decide between Fighting (253 screens) and Knowing (264 screens). Let's listen in on this inner conflict.

Mind: Clearly we must choose Knowing.

Body: There you go again. You're forgetting that there can be no Knowing without Fighting.

Mind: How so?

Body: Just think about the cavemen days. No one would have had the opportunity to learn anything if the caveman hadn't learned how to hunt dinosaurs.

Mind: That's ridiculous. What have you been watching? "The Flintstones"? And how could the caveman have fought dinosaurs without stopping and thinking about how to make weapons?

400 Screens, 400 Blows is a weekly column that takes an in-depth look at the films playing below the radar, beneath the top ten, and on 400 screens or less.

I suppose everyone knows by now that Gran Torino (218 screens) was Clint Eastwood's final screen appearance as an actor, and that he plans to concentrate on directing from now on -- though the film's nearly $150 million gross and a spot at #77 on the IMDB All-Time Top 250 will probably result in many phone calls begging him to reconsider. But this raises an interesting question: was it Eastwood's appearance onscreen make the movie such a popular favorite? Does he still have all the right stuff, 40 years later, to rank as one of the all-time great movie stars? Or was it his skill as a director that paid off?

Any actor who also decides to direct must eventually face the choice of whether or not to direct his or her own performance. There's a long list of people who chose one side or the other with varied results. But though it's probably the more difficult choice, I think any actor would agree that it's easier to sell the film with his or her face onscreen. Even Spike Lee admitted to this when he acted in his first three films, up to and including his masterpiece Do the Right Thing. And certainly when someone like Woody Allen initially decided not to appear in his films, his fans did not take it well.

Just when we thought we had seen the last of gossip columnist and part-time movie pirate Roger Friedman, it looks like the guy has found a new home at The Hollywood Reporter. The trade paper announced that they've hired the infamous writer to head up their new celebrity news feature. According to THR editor Elizabeth Guider, Friedman was joining the team because, "For some time, THR has wanted to beef up its coverage of the celebrity world and how it intersects with and influences the business of show business. Bringing Roger on board gives us a great leg up in that effort and will help extend our audience reach."

In case the name isn't ringing any bells, Friedman infamously covered the OJ Simpson trial back in 1995, and was also considered one of the 'leading authorities' on Michael Jackson after covering the pop star's 2005 child-molestation trial. Friedman always had a taste for the tawdry, and over the years, broke some equally seedy stories about Anna Nicole Smith and the collapse of Rudolph Giuliani's marriage. But after Friedman published a review of Wolverine using an unfinished print that had surfaced online, he was quickly (and publicly) fired. Granted, it didn't come as a big shock, but you almost felt sorry for the guy ... almost. Even if you didn't want to argue about the morality of Friedman's actions, you have to wonder: just what did he think was going to happen when he admitted to downloading an illegal copy of one of the summer's big releases?

Friedman already has a reputation for fighting dirty, but as periodicals jostle for position among a growing pool of online competition, I guess even THR isn't above playing fast and loose for a scoop -- and it looks like nobody is willing to bend the rules like Friedman.