These are the dog days of January, the poor put-upon month used by studios as a dumping ground for product considered too lethally toxic for release during those real moviegoing months--December, say, when audiences are buzzed on two weeks of vacation and award-contenders do their Oscar striptease and reveal that the true meaning of Christmas is a happy Harvey Weinstein. This week debuts a trio of movies that long ago closed in the ledgers of taste-exempt execs who found tax write-offs in the form of Martin Lawrence and Jason Lee,... More >>>