Review: Short on scares, My Bloody Valentine doesn’t improve upon its 1981 predecessor, but at least it ups the gore factor with its gimmicky 3-D shocks.

Story: We can understand the resurrections of Leatherface, Jason Voorhees, and Michael Myers. But one-hit wonder the Miner? Yes, pickaxe-wielding mad miner Harry Warden appears to be on the rampage again. The residents of Harmony believe police fatally shot Warden after he picked off kids partying in the mine. But his body was never found. If Warden really is dead, who’s now driving his pickaxe through the heads of those connected with all the mine murders? Could it be Tom Hanniger (Jensen Ackles), the mine owner’s son responsible for the accident that turned Harry into a homicidal maniac? Or could it be Sheriff Axel Palmer (Kerr Smith)? Caught in the middle is Sarah (Jamie King), who married Axel after Tom dumped her and fled Harmony. Worse, the killer’s set his sights on Sarah so he can finished what was started long ago down in Tunnel No. 5.

Acting: Bearing in mind the damsel in distress must remaining standing, it’s more important that King can bust some moves than explore the emotional and psychological toll of being victimized by an unstoppable force of evil. Luckily, King prevails over her initial jitters in order to swing a mean shovel when under attack. On the other hand, wimps Ackles (Supernatural) wears nothing but a pained expression on his face, while Smith (Dawson’s Creek) is all bark and no bite. Horrors fans, though, will get a kick out of seeing ageless tough-guy Tom Atkins take on the Miner. Oh, and as for that glasses-fogging moment that’s mandatory for a 3-D chiller, it’s Betsy Rue’s unenviable task to strip down to her birthday suit as Palmer’s high school sweetheart and rub what she’s got right in our faces.

Direction: Does it matter that this My Bloody Valentine redo fails miserably as a whodunit? Or that the only time you’re on the edge of your seat is during a tense supermarket confrontation between King and the Miner? This remake exists solely to gross you out by throwing anything and everything at you in 3-D. Eyeballs pop out, body parts drop the floor, blood and pieces of bone cover the screen—to that end, director Patrick Lussier doesn’t disappoint. Props to him for not giving us a scene-by-scene carbon copy of one of the earliest holiday-themed Halloween knockoff, but the director falls short whenever he attempts to recreate his source material’s most nail-biting moments. So if its gore you want, you got it; but if you want to be scared out of your wits, give My Bloody Valentine the kiss off.

Bottom Line: Hollywood.com rated this film 2 stars.

Review: No fire in this tale about one of rap music’s most notorious shooting stars.

Story: Starting near the end of his short 24-year life and then told in flashback, this film version of Christopher “Notorious B.I.G” Wallace’s (Jamal Woolard) rapid rise from the streets of Brooklyn to fame is told in standard-issue Hollywood biopic style. We see this Catholic honors student (played by his real life son, Christopher Jordan Wallace) become a teenage drug dealer and accidental father before a chance recording finds its way to Sean “Puffy” Combs (Derek Luke), who engineers an almost immediate rise to fame, fortune—and trouble. “Biggie” now must juggle his newfound recording career, a marriage to fellow artist Faith Evans (Antonique Smith), his romantic encounters with female rap comer, L’il Kim (Naturi Naughton) and a major East Coast/West Coast rivalry with Tupac Shakur (Anthony Mackie) that leads to tragedy for both.

Acting: As Wallace, Brooklyn rapper Woolard is almost indistinguishable from the real man himself. He’s completely convincing performing B.I.G’s biggie hits and proves himself to be a first-rate dramatic actor as well – at least in a story like this that he can clearly relate to. As his mother, Angela Bassett makes the most of limited screen time (despite top billing) and expertly conveys the angst of a parent fighting a losing battle for her son. Luke again shows why he is so promising playing Puffy with just the right amount of flash and supreme confidence. Unfortunately, the “balanced” portrait of Combs and many others in B.I.G’s life is tainted by the fact this film was produced by some of the real life players, including his managers, mother and executive producer Combs.

Direction: George Tillman Jr. (Soul Food) directs this by-the-numbers account of Biggie’s life in a style we have seen countless times before. Except for a couple of occasions, he doesn’t even let the rap sequences play out to give us an idea of how this guy whose songs reflected his rough Brooklyn lifestyle could climb to the top so fast. Whatever was special is lost in what appears to be a brazen attempt to sell soundtrack albums.

Bottom Line: Hollywood.com rated this film 2 stars.