Hansel and Gretel: Witch Hunters: To think that at this time last year, we lived in a world without two additional revisionist takes on the "Snow White legend"—and that by this time next year, we'll have been blessed with no fewer than three big-scale "reimaginings" of fairy-tale-type stories: we've got a big-budget Jack and the Beanstalk movie in March, followed a mere one week later by Sam Raimi's new Wizard of Oz prequel. But right now, it's January, so you'll have to make do with Hansel and Gretel: Witch Hunters, the poor man's any of those movies, at least if studio treatment is any indication. Paramount bounced the movie out of last spring and all the way into the January graveyard—though, to be fair, they may have just realized that (a) plenty of movies have made money in January with less competition in their way, and (b) they have a Hansel and Gretel movie on their hands that more resembles the off-season Underworld or Resident Evil series than, say, Tim Burton's Alice in Wonderland, which is the clear reason for most of these movies existing. I don't want to get all contrarian before I've seen the movie (and I'm not convinced said movie screened for much of anyone before Thursday or so, if then), but if Hansel and Gretel really does take more of an irreverent, semi-fractured take on the story, hey, that'll put it above Snow White and the Huntsman almost by default. Then again, it could also basically be Van Helsing all over again; Gemma Arterton, who I like for reasons as arbitrary as my desire to see this movie, certainly seems to be gunning for Kate Beckinsale's old job.

Parker: Mr. Off-Season himself, Jason Statham, returns with his starriest supporting cast since that Killer Elite movie none of you saw: Jennifer Lopez, Nick Nolte, Michael Chiklis... well, okay, part of the supporting cast of U-Turn, plus Chiklis isn't exactly money in the bank, but I can't exactly tell you who else was in Safe even though I saw it, so there you are. Parker is based in part on the same Donald Westlake novel that was turned into Point Blank and Payback, with Lee Marvin and Mel Gibson, respectively, playing characters based on Westlake's Parker, but not called Parker in their movies. For this go-round, Taylor Hackford has the name at the ready, so the movie's called Parker rather than The Hunter (possible additional contributing factor: the number of other movies called The Hunter). Based on what I've read about the Parker series, I kind of wish they'd skipped the betrayed-by-lowlife-associates-left-for-dead-and-now-back-for-revenge step and gotten straight to the rest of the series, where Parker assembles teams and pulls heists; he sounds like a less driftery, more crime-prone Jack Reacher (whom I know nothing about except what I saw in the Tom Cruise movie Jack Reacher). But if I must watch Jason Statham punch his way through the underworld before watching him pull some heists in possible future movies, well, I guess that serves as an apt metaphor for the sensation of watching any low-rent Jason Statham movie (which longtime readers know I absolutely will do) while waiting for the point where he'll spend more time doing slightly classier, heist-driven B-pictures like The Bank Job and The Italian Job.

Movie 43: The ads for this movie are a study in a confusing campaign, probably because there isn't much precedent for marketing a sketch comedy movie, especially one without a sketch troupe behind it. It's hard to name-check Kentucky Fried Movie or Amazon Women on the Moon in 2013, so instead Movie 43 makes known its weirdly substantial parade of movie stars who have agreed to participate, but not plug: 2013 Oscar nominee Naomi Watts, 2013 Oscar nominee Hugh Jackman, Oscar winner Kate Winslet, Oscar winner Halle Berry, Greg Kinnear, Dennis Quaid, Anna Faris, Chris Pratt, Emma Stone, Terrence Howard, Richard Gere, Seann William Scott, Johnny Knoxville, and Elizabeth Banks, who also directed a segment. A casual viewer could be forgiven for assuming this is some kind of Disaster Movie-style abomination that blackmailed actual celebrities into taking the place of low-rent celebrity impersonators. But no, this is an anthology of comedy shorts; I have no idea how many, only that even in the three-minute trailer, several of them look like one-joke affairs designed for people whose chief complaint with Saturday Night Live is that it isn't dirty enough. Lots of directors and actors are all over this thing, but I'm not sure who did what; I just know that Elizabeth Banks directed a segment herself, the Farrelly Brothers were on hand somewhere, Ratner turned up probably wearing a bright pink shirt with the top four buttons undone, and there are also plenty of journeyman comedy directors who hardly anyone can tell apart, like Steven Brill (who made Little Nicky, Mr. Deeds, and Without a Paddle) and Steve Carr (who made Dr. Dolittle 2, Daddy Day Care, and Paul Blart: Mall Cop), truly the Pullman and Paxton of low-ambition studio comedies.