Besieged by John Grishamish plot twists, the actors in Gary Fleder¹s legal ¹thriller¹ labor to maintain some semblance of emotional coherence. John Cusack is selected as a juror for a case pitting a gun manufacturer against the widow of a woman who lost her husband (Dylan McDermott) to a workplace shooting rampage. The lawyers facing off are smug Bruce Davison (for the defense) and artfully folksy Dustin Hoffman for the prosecution. The gun people hire a crafty jury consultant (Gene Hackman) who comes with highest-tech surveillance equipment, a command center and galoots to intimidate troublemakers. Hackman and Hoffman¹s eventual legal-moral showdown in the men¹s room appears to be the film¹s raison d¹être, but Cusack is ostensibly the ethical center. Aided by girlfriend Rachel Weisz (who actually beats up one of Hackman¹s goons), he means to swing the jurors (including Jennifer Beals, Cliff Curtis and Guy Torry, all deserving better than these cut-out parts), by games of persuasion. Initially annoying and increasingly inane, the film -- which presents itself as ¹clever¹ -- never rights itself. --Cindy Fuchs (AMC Orleans; Cinemagic; Ritz 16; UA 69th St.; UA Grant; UA Main St.; UA Riverview)

South Park once joked that all independent movies are about ¹gay cowboys eating pudding,¹ but, at least in plot summary form, The Station Agent comes a lot closer to a satire of the indie ethos: a dwarf train enthusiast, a manchild coffee vendor and a mother getting over the death of her child bond and form an unlikely, unconsummated love triangle. Luckily, Tom McCarthy¹s debut feature, set in the wilds of New Jersey, has lots to offer beyond its plot. Chief among those offerings is a dry, unsentimental performance from Peter Dinklage as Fin, whose brooding intensity is the closest thing imaginable to a 4-foot-5 James Dean. After Fin inherits a disused train depot from a fellow train buff, he falls in, reluctantly at first, with a misfit crew including the beefy, garrulous Bobby Cannavale and bereaved mom Patricia Clarkson. There¹s a certain rote quality to the way The Station Agent brings its characters together, not to mention its bland people-are-people assurances, but the freshness of Dinklage¹s performance, combined with a lovely score by Hedwig¹s Stephen Trask, makes for a handful of memorable moments. --Sam Adams (Ritz 16; Ritz at the Bourse)

Joel Schumacher¹s glossy rendition turns the life of a crusading Irish journalist who was murdered by the drug dealers she exposed into something close to standard issue, if not quite. The sole redeeming quality is Cate Blanchett¹s conception of the title role, which steadfastly refuses to turn Guerin into a folk hero. As headstrong, even arrogant, as she is righteous, Blanchett¹s Guerin is perhaps more dogged than she is precise; Though the movie caricatures the seasoned journos who scorned Guerin because of her lack of experience, it provides some evidence to think they at least had a case. Not surprisingly, Guerin¹s confrontations with Dublin drug lords produce the flattest, least satisfying scenes; it¹s startling to compare VG¹s depiction of flamboyant gangster Martin Cahill, played by Gerry O¹Brien as a snarling brute right out of a TV cop show, with Brendan Gleeson¹s complex, contradictory portrayal of Cahill in John Boorman¹s The General. Of course, supporting roles are always less well-developed than the leads, but it¹s typical of the movie¹s strategy to portray drug dealers as Satanic caricatures, to the point that John Gilligan (Gerard McSorley), the dealer who ordered Guerin¹s death, has been changed from a dealer in marijuana and ecstacy to a heroin trafficker -- no doubt because weed and E didn¹t seem ¹bad¹ enough. Apparently arranging a woman¹s murder just doesn¹t ¹read.¹ --S.A. (Bala; Ritz 16;Ritz Five)