What we previously knew about the plot of Terminator Salvation: The Future Begins: Christian Bale plays an older John Connor; a young Kyle Reese shows up in the form of Anton Yelchin; Sam Worthington plays some guy named Marcus. After Skynet brings about a nuclear near-apocalypse, our heroes must keep the machines from wiping out the rest of humanity. That's it. Now, thanks to a Warner Bros. start-of-production press release we know a lot more -- or do we?

"In the highly anticipated new installment of The Terminator film franchise, set in post-apocalyptic 2018, Christian Bale stars as John Connor, the man fated to lead the human resistance against Skynet and its army of Terminators. But the future Connor was raised to believe in is altered in part by the appearance of Marcus Wright (Sam Worthington), a stranger whose last memory is of being on death row. Connor must decide whether Marcus has been sent from the future, or rescued from the past. As Skynet prepares its final onslaught, Connor and Marcus both embark on an odyssey that takes them into the heart of Skynet's operations, where they uncover the terrible secret behind the possible annihilation of mankind."

If you read that a couple of times, it doesn't really make very much sense ("the future Connor was raised to believe in is altered in part..."?). Studio marketing departments aren't known for lucid prose. It's not clear whether the human resistance Connor's going to lead (or so we keep being told) actually gets formed in this movie, or how Reese -- Connor's father -- enters the picture. But at least we have a sense of the storyline, and of who "Marcus" is. Parenthetically, we also learn that Charlotte Gainsbourg will take over as Kate Connor -- the Claire Danes role from Rise of the Machines.

Quick hits on three titles of interest: As I wrote last November, Meeting Resistance "is not the end-all, be-all of Iraq War documentaries, nor does it pretend to be. Filmmakers Steve Connors and Molly Bingham stay tightly focused on their subjects -- members of the resistance movement in Iraq -- and get them to open up about their motivations. In doing so, they provide an invaluable window into a world that remains unknown to most foreigners." The DVD from First Run Features includes an audio commentary, filmmaker Q&A, biographies, and a photo gallery.

Olivier Meyrou's documentary Beyond Hatred examines the aftermath of the brutal murder of a young gay man by a gang of skinheads. Ed Gonzalez in Slant Magazine felt it "arrives at essential truths about suffering and loss through abstract means." The DVD from First Run Features appears to be a bare-bones edition; no extras are listed at the official site.

I'm waiting for my rental copy of The Flock to arrive in the mail, but I don't have high hopes for this psychological drama, even though it stars Richard Gere and Claire Danes. Hong Kong director Andrew Lau can be hit (Internal Affairs) or miss (Confession of Pain), and the long delay between production (late 2004) and release doesn't bode well. The DVD from The Weinstein Co. has no extras, according to this review by Brian Orndorf at DVD Talk, who felt the movie looked too much like a bad TV show.

One of the films I've been itching to see, which can't even seem to get itself in front of the camera, is Jodie Foster's Flora Plum. For at least the last ten years, there has been buzz about this film, which was originally going to star Claire Danes, out of My So-Called Life and into Yale, and Russell Crowe. But just like bad luck has loomed in Terry Gilliam's world of filmmaking, Foster just can't seem to get it made.

Crowe injured himself and production stopped. He never returned to the project and later in 2002, there was word that Ewan McGregor was taking over. Again, it stopped. Yet Foster is still determined to get the film made. She talked with MTV, and is still very invested in getting it made. However, she's being wary about how much she says, for fear that she'll jinx herself. "My new superstition is to never mention it, because every time I do, my film falls apart." From there, she talks about finally jumping behind the camera again, over a decade since her last directorial effort, Home for the Holidays.

The 1990s had no shortage of dysfunctional family movies, but Jodie Foster's second (and still most recent) directorial effort Home for the Holidays (1995) sends them all packing by bringing the family together for Thanksgiving dinner. Most movies in this genre handle the wide tapestry of characters by assigning them one-dimensional, easily defined personality types, but Foster and her screenwriter, the great W.D. "Rick" Richter, fit in dozens of remarkable little moments that bring everyone into three-dimensional relief. It begins with Claudia Larson (Holly Hunter, at her pluckiest) happily at work, restoring old paintings. (The opening credit sequence is rich with information, such as using egg yolks as a base.) Unfortunately, she gets laid off, tries to make out with her boss and comes down with a cold. Her teenage daughter (Claire Danes) announces that she's spending the holiday with her boyfriend and will be having sex for the first time.

With failure and humiliation hung around her neck, she returns home for turkey day. To rub it in, Claudia loses her fancy, big city coat at the airport and must settle for wearing her mother's puffy, hideously out-of-date coat for the rest of the visit. On the plane, she calls her closest companion, her brother Tommy (Robert Downey Jr.) and begs him to come too. It's an awkward, babbling message, but touchingly honest. Tommy, a cackling, gay nutcase full of mischievous energy, does turn up and brings the sexy Leo Fish (Dylan McDermott). Claudia is single, and in a lesser movie -- Dan in Real Life, for example -- everyone in the family would pester her to find a man, as if they had no concerns of their own. And certainly the subject comes up, most heartbreakingly in a scene with the sad-sack David Strathairn as an old classmate -- a meeting arranged by Claudia's mom (Anne Bancroft).

I know I'm not completely in the minority with this, but I have to admit first off that I loved Terminator 3: Rise of the Machines. I really thought Jonathan Mostow did a great job delivering the action -- obviously not close to as good as James Cameron would have done, but better than many others could have. When it was revealed that a fourth Terminator was in the works, I hoped Mostow would be rehired for the gig. But I guess he's either doing something else (Swiss Family Robinson perhaps?) or for some reason he's not welcome back. According to CHUD.com, his replacement on the franchise may be McG, who I find to be one of the most annoying guys working in Hollywood these days. Really, though, I just hate on the guy because of his stupid name. I guiltily kinda enjoyed his two Charlie's Angels movies. Apparently, McG is currently in talks to take the helm of the sequel, for a pre-strike production start, but it isn't for certain that he'll get the job.

I'm sure many of you will probably be upset if McG officially signs on, even if you too just criticize him for his name. It could be the nail on the coffin for a lot of fans already nervous about the continuation of the storyline without any definite sign of Arnold Schwarzenegger, Linda Hamilton, Michael Biehn, Robert Patrick, Edward Furlong, Nick Stahl, Claire Danes or anyone else who has previously starred in the series. From what we've so far heard, it seems part 4 will focus on the post-apocalyptic period involving the war between the machines and John Connor's army. Everything else, regarding an Arnie cameo, or whatever, I'm still considering to be hearsay. Anyway, all I care about now is that at least Terminator 4 has been scripted by T3's Michael Ferris and John D. Brancato, a duo I'm sure are well-enough-versed in the Terminator universe to make this next installment interesting and worth seeing.

Confession time: I'm a 30 year-old male and I own the complete series of My So-Called Life on DVD. No, my wife didn't buy it, it was given to me as a gift. So not only do I have it, but people close to me know how much I adored the series -- so much so that they would get it for me as a Christmas present. Yep, deep inside me lives a 14 year-old teenage girl, and I have no problem whatsoever with people knowing that about me. Now, on to that so-called feature film for My So-Called Life. As most of you probably know, My So-Called Life was a TV show that ran for one season on ABC before being canned. Since then re-runs have aired on a number of channels, including MTV, a book called My So-Called Life Goes On was written and Shout! Factory has plans to release a new 6-disc boxset at the end of October. So if there was ever a time to bring the series back to life in big-screen form, it would be now.

Well, MTV Movies Blog recently spoke to the show's star Claire Danes, and asked her what she thought of a My So-Called Life: The Movie. For those who watched the show, you'll remember that it ended on a massive cliffhanger. Since then, said cliffhanger has scarred my entire life -- to the point that it came up in a conversation (again!) just the other day. And that shot! The shot of Brian (Devon Gummersall) and Angela (Danes) staring at one another from across the street, with only the streetlamps guiding their way toward one another. Priceless. I'm getting chills as I write about it. So what did Danes have to say? Essentially, she put the kibosh on it almost immediately, and felt that there was a specific time and place for the show. And that time was 1994. Feel free to head on over to MTV to hear her complete thoughts, then come back and join me as a swallow back 13 years of heartache. Damn you Brian! Couldn't you have made a move during -- I dunno -- episode 7 or something!?

There are a lot of indicators that can make one feel old -- usually things like birthdays, gray hairs and creaking bones. But man, I feel like I just aged a few extra years. Word has hit Variety that George Bernard Shaw's Pygmalion (the great play that later become the musical My Fair Lady) is once again hitting Broadway -- twenty years after it was last staged with Peter O'Toole and Amanda Plummer at the Rialto. That means it's been two decades since my young self trekked with my family to go see Alan Swann in person. Wow. While I did it once, I really don't think I'll be making the journey this time.

Claire Danes has been cast as Eliza Doolittle, while Tony award winner Jefferson Mays will play Henry Higgins. I like the actress and all, especially her old-school work, but these guys really don't have the same punch that the previous incarnation had. In 1987, there was a wow to the production -- it was one of those things you felt lucky to see. This...well, it just seems like any old theatrical run in New York City -- some big-name cinematic celebrities taking a break from the camera, and solid theater actors to round out the cast. However, if Danes and Mays are your cup of tea, the production goes into previews at the AmericanAirlines Theater on September 21, and then opens on October 18. If that's too long to wait for a little Danes, her upcoming flick Stardust opens in a month.

A weepie examination of female and sexual identity whose worth is roughly equal to that of a used Kleenex, Evening is a schmaltzy nostalgic fusion of clichéd melodrama and carpe-diem lessons about regret, love and courage. Based on Susan Minot's novel from a screenplay by the author and The Hours scribe Michael Cunningham, director Lajos Koltai's (Fateless) feature is a golden-hued eye-roller, full of gorgeous seaside locales, beautiful people, and oh-so-profound issues of life and death, not a one believable thanks to Koltai's insistent sappiness and a story that's familiar, goofy and unbearably corny. A bifurcated affair, Evening begins at the bedside vigil of dying Ann (Vanessa Redgrave), where her two daughters Constance (Natasha Richardson) and Nina (Toni Collette) argue over their differing life paths -- Constance is a suburban wife and mom of two, Nina is an aimless mess unable to commit to the boyfriend with whom she's expecting a child -- while listening to mom enigmatically prattle on about a man named Harris.

Commence flashbacks and the piano-and-flute score, because this soggy mystery is the film's meat-and-potatoes, as Minot's tale goes on to detail the momentous romance between young Ann (Claire Danes) and Dr. Harris (Patrick Wilson) at the 1950s Newport wedding of Ann's best friend Lila Wittenborn (Mamie Gummer, who plays -- and in real life is -- the daughter of Meryl Streep). A Greenwich Village bohemian who pays her way singing in skuzzy nightclubs while dreaming of stardom, Ann arrives at Lila's cliffside mansion with Lila's brother Buddy (Hugh Dancy), a cheery fellow who drowns feelings of self-loathing and inadequacy about his writing talents (he dreams of being the next Hemingway) with alcohol. Koltai shoots this swanky setting like he's working on the latest J. Crew catalog spread, his overly sentimental images of the outstretched twilight ocean nicely meshing with dying Ann's faux-wondrous hallucinations about fireflies, butterflies, and a night nurse dressed in a sparkly evening gown. Every moment and aspect of Evening is suffocatingly twee and self-satisfied -- except, that is, for those brief occasions when it's just pitifully conventional.

Over at our wonderful sister site, TV Squad, there is a feature that should be of interest to our movie-crazy readership as well: The Ten Worst Movies Based on TV Shows. I know what you're thinking, how could you possible limit it to ten, right? Paul Goebel has done a pretty spectacular job. I had tried to block a few of these titles from my memory, but seeing them again gave me some war-like flashbacks of struggling through these trainwrecks. Lost In Space more than lived up to its name and wasted a stellar cast, Car 54, Where Are You? is a question no one would ever ask again, and The Mod Squad with Claire Danes should have been called My So-Called Movie.

Wild Wild West is a great call, I can't believe at no point during filming did someone say, "Really? We're doing this?" It also features one of Will Smith's absolute lamest "Let me tell you the plot of my movie!" raps, including the immortal line: I'm the slickest there is. I'm the quickest there is. Did I say I'm the slickest there is? You didn't have to, Will. You didn't have to. Movies based on television programs are almost always disasters. There are exceptions of course. Off the top of my head, The Fugitive is one of the best thrillers ever made, Maverick rocked, and both Addams Family movies are terrific black comedies. But boy, do they get it wrong most of the time. I shudder to think what they'll try to do to something like my precious Seinfeld down the line! I couldn't agree more with Paul's choice of The Avengers as number one, I would actually rank it near the top of my "Worst Movies Ever Made" list. To quote Get Shorty, I've seen better film on teeth.

Rounding out the TV Squad list are George of the Jungle, McHale's Navy, The Flinstones, Scooby-Doo, and Leave It To Beaver. What would you add to the list? For me, The Adventures of Rocky and Bullwinkle would have ranked #2, it was so painful to watch Robert DeNiro take a big poo all over his legacy.