Asylum
Apparently mad at her stuffily ambitious psychiatrist husband (Hugh Bonneville), '50s housewife Stella (Natasha Richardson) starts an outrageous affair with a patient at hubby's latest assignment: a hospital for the criminally insane. Edgar Stark (Marton Csokas), incarcerated for killing his wife in a jealous rage, is now acting as something of a maintenance man and technically the charge of Dr. Cleve (Ian McKellen), who proves especially good at "arranging things." The full meaning of this tart phrase becomes clear when Stella makes several stunningly bad choices, all leading to an especially creepy deal with "old queen" Cleve. As in David Mackenzie's previous dreary/sensational frustrated-wife saga, Young Adam, the catch for mom is her child, Charlie (Gus Lewis), only this time her punishment for abandoning him, even briefly, is horrifically harsh. Richardson digs into Stella's many moods and miscues with something like relish (though her descent into depression, abuse and seeming starvation is marked primarily by dark circles under her eyes). No matter her husband's sense of wounding and resentment, Stella is the film's primary victim — again and again, she's punished. By the time it's over, you feel battered. --Cindy Fuchs (Ritz at the Bourse; Ritz 16)

The 40 Year Old Virgin
Following in Will Ferrell's man-child footsteps, Steve Carell plays a ground zero of geek signifiers (mint-in-box action figures, prog-rock posters) who's like a somewhat balding version of writer-director Judd Apatow's beloved freaks and geeks. After he exposes his inexperience at a post-work poker game, Carell's co-workers (Paul Rudd, Seth Rogen and Romany Malco) make his deflowering their mission — but despite the notches on their bedposts, it turns out none of them know anything about women, either. Carell's efforts to "get down with sex," which include a cringe-inducing chest wax, gibe with the culture's coarse displays — evidenced by rap videos, porno tapes and ads for a perfume called "Eruption" — but, like the Farrelly movies it obviously draws on, The 40 Year Old Virgin is much sweeter than it is crass. (It might even go over in abstinence country, what with Carell holding it in until his wedding night.) Apatow's first feature wobbles on its long-form legs. Once the barrage of jokes slows to a sentimental pace (a mistake Anchorman never made), its general formlessness starts to show; too many bits linger out of no more than Apatow's obvious fondness for his comedy-mafia pals. But Carell's performance has its genius moments, and Catherine Keener is perfectly cast as the woman worth waiting 40 years to lose it to. --Sam Adams (Bridge; Narberth; Ritz 16; UA Grant; UA Main St.; UA Riverview)

Supercross
"Motocross is our life." Really, that's all you need to know about brothers K.C. (Steve Howey) and Trip (Mike Vogel), who narrates. They compete like crazy, dude, one taking the ostensible high road to stardom (as a privateer, not a sellout), the other taking a "factory ride" with a corporate team, playing wingman to the owner's thuggish son and wearing a "purple superhero suit." Each brother meets the right girl (dark-haired law student Sophia Bush and blond motocross rider/mechanic Cameron Richardson), each finds his destiny and each does the right thing, partly in memory of their dead dad (also a biker) and partly because the movie is bereft of imagination. Aaron Carter shows up as a rider, briefly, as does the now utterly sedate T-1000 (Robert Patrick), as Carter's dad, reduced to reaction shots. Lots of racing in slow motion, some crashes and some girls in short shorts. --C.F. (AMC Orleans; UA Riverview)

Valiant
Once upon a time, names like John Cleese and Rik Mayall in the opening credits of any film would have been a clear sign of the bawdy irreverence to come. But that day seems as far distant now as Valiant's WWII setting, and the musty jokes and stiff-upper-lip Brit chest thumping probably would have felt as antiquated then as they do now. Ewan McGregor voices the title character, a little pigeon who could, determined to enlist in the Homing Pigeon Corps. The rest of the voice cast is a Who's Who of British comedy stars, the wasted opportunities ranging from Jim Broadbent as a drill sergeant to Tim Curry as a Nazi falcon (though the bumbling villains are cautiously swastika-free). Ricky Gervais enlivens the proceedings slightly as Valiant's hygienically challenged conman sidekick, but it's an act we've seen before and can't do much to quicken the film's lethargic pace. The character design doesn't help, as the animators have managed to capture in bird form that creepy, not-quite-right feeling that usually comes with CGI humans. Younger viewers will likely be fidgeting in their seats, and their parents — actually, their parents will fidget too, unless they have a particular passion for avian puns. --Shaun Brady (AMC Orleans; UA Grant; UA Riverview)