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Anne Hathaway, who proved she could sing opposite the very talented Hugh Jackman at the Oscars, is slated to star as Judy Garland (1922-1969) in the film and stage adaptations of Gerald Clarke’s 2001 biography Get Happy: The Life of Judy Garland, according to a statement by the Weinstein Company. Weinstein, which optioned the movie and stage rights, said Get Happy is partly based on Miss Garland’s unfinished and unpublished autobiography. This is a big deal for Weinstein, though Hathaway, who tends to overact, is untested in terms of carrying an epic life story. The studio has another major musically-themed picture, Nine, directed by Rob Marshall (Chicago), featuring Daniel Day Lewis, Nicole Kidman, Marion Cotillard, Sophia Loren, and Judi Dench, scheduled for release later this year.

Another widely adored, brunette actress with a goofy screen persona, Julia Roberts, is part of the problem with the mildly entertaining Duplicity. The banter-based business spy romance, starring Roberts and Clive Owen, underperformed at the box office during its opening weekend and it’s not hard to see why. They yammer at one another in another one of those movies that conceals important plot points and then smugly springs a surprise. A star couple can be fun—Mr. and Mrs. Smith comes to mind—in a frothy caper taken for what it is, and this will do in a pinch, but there’s not much chemistry—he waddles, she schleps—and Duplicity is too self-conscious. Paul Giamiatti is cartoonish as a neurotic businessman competing with Tom Wilkinson’s executive. Julia Roberts, who hasn’t played in a good movie in years, supported this picture with a publicity tour, but she seems like she’s just not that into this role. Duplicity uses an occasional split screen, an upbeat jazz score and nice, long shots of the Empire State Building to wrap the viewer in a convoluted story about trust between the sexes. I’ve seen worse movies in the inscrutable plot genre, but I hope the trend ends soon.

This weekend’s slate includes a horror movie, The Last House on the Left, which I am planning to see at a screening tomorrow night. During my Box Office Mojo years, I was asked to review horror movies—a genre I personally find repugnant and generally without value—and, after seeing one too many, I declined to attend horror screenings (a policy other critics eventually followed). I figured my readers knew I did not like those pictures—The Ring painfully comes to mind—and there was practically no value in a review of a movie everyone knew I’d hate. I am trying Last House on the Left because it looks like it might have a plot. Here goes.

But there goes Race to Witch Mountain, a remake of the studio’s 1975 supernaturalism thriller Escape to Witch Mountain, which Disney is refusing to screen for the press. It must be regarded by the studio as awful. That’s too bad; based on the trailer, I had been looking forward to seeing Race to Witch Mountain. Thoughts on other trailers: Terminator Salvation looks obnoxious, though I liked director McG’s We Are Marshall. Star Trek, with its youthfully recast starship Enterprise crew looking like the Jonas Brothers and director J.J. Abrams putting lots of humans in flight is unimpressive. Star Trek’s trailer is 90 percent sensory assault, so there appears to be no trace of the melodramatic NBC series’ intelligent writing. On the other hand, I have heard from reliable sources that Disney/Pixar’s Up, opening on May 29, is terrific. Let’s hope is has more lift than Cars or last year’s wailer, WALL-E.

The week’s best movie choice arrives on a new DVD: the outstanding 1996 motion picture debut of Edward Norton as a choirboy in a Catholic murder mystery, Primal Fear. Paramount does the legal thriller justice with a new Hard Evidence Edition, sealed in an evidence bag. Primal Fear features Mr. Norton’s stuttering altar boy defended by a slick Chicago lawyer (Richard Gere, practicing for his slick Chicago lawyer in 2002’s Best Picture winner, Chicago). The movie holds up, even for those who know the twist. The DVD includes three strong features—none in that frantic, zero attention span style—recounting the film’s success. Final Verdict is a thoughtful reconstruction of the movie from page (the novel by William Diehl) to screen, with principal cast and crew participating, except for Mr. Gere, who comes off as a bit of a dandy like his character. We learn here that the stutter and the clap were Mr. Norton’s ideas, creating a criminal character that “uses the lawyer’s [lack of an] ego against him.” The other two features—Star Witness and The Psychology of Guilt (a repudiation of the so-called insanity defense)—include tidbits such as Leonardo DiCaprio passing on the altar boy role, studio resistance to non-stars in the picture, which boosted careers for Laura Linney, Frances McDormand and Maura Tierney, and keen observations by Mr. Norton about getting the role. My favorite: The studio’s Sherry Lansing—one of Tinseltown’s last businessmen to think big—in Cecil B. DeMille mode. When she found out the newly cast Mr. Norton was sleeping on a friend’s sofa on Laurel Canyon, she picked up the phone, demanded a hotel room for the young actor and added: “and get him a convertible.” That’s classic Hollywood and so is this gem of a movie, which launched the career of one of its best actors, who went on to star in The Incredible Hulk, The Illusionist, and The Painted Veil.

I’ve posted my review of the terribly disappointing Watchmen. The screening took place at The Grove, one of L.A.’s best retail centers (located next to the original Farmer’s Market), which is apparently cutting corners. The problem isn’t the center’s cineplex, Pacific Theatres, which are one of the best in town, and a visit to The Grove is still a treat, thanks to one of the most competent Apple Store staffs, a terrific Crate and Barrel and an outstanding Barnes and Noble.

When the Watchmen screening let out, The Grove locked the restrooms and refused to let anyone use the facilities. I know that the company’s other retail center, the Americana in Glendale, California, has issues—the behemoth’s design for foot traffic alone is a disaster and there are numerous problems with that property—but there’s no legitimate claim to be a fine shopping center when the toilets are locked down to cut costs. Hordes of Watchmen survivors—and that screening lasted over three hours—were refused restroom entry. Bad management moves like that will hurt The Grove’s ability to survive the downturn.

Other odds and ends: I am planning to use a blog program soon and I appreciate the patience among my fellow bloggers and readers. Please stand by and bear with any technical difficulties.

This week’s opening pictures are dominated by the comics-based Watchmen. I’m planning to attend tonight’s screening of the picture, which reunites Little Children co-stars Patrick Wilson and Jackie Earle Haley, and I’ve been told by a reliable source who’s seen it that Watchmen is an extremely violent movie that goes against the comic book, which this person ranks as having the best comics characters. I must say that I hated 300—aptly described as history hijacked by horror—and I cringe at what I call blood porn, which I think takes a serious toll on a person’s capacity for joy. Also, it’s not a good sign that Watchmen’s writer, Alan Moore, has disavowed any connection with this movie, which apparently takes place in an alternate reality in which Richard Nixon is president for four terms. On the other hand, I thoroughly appreciate the comics-based V for Vendetta and Watchmen has a strong cast.

I saw the vapid and ridiculous Tyler Perry’s Madea Goes to Jail and Viola Davis (Nights in Rodanthe, Doubt) is the best thing about it. This striking, strong woman is on a roll with three intense recent performances—here as a preacher who helps drug addicts and prostitutes by mixing Christianity with selfishness—and the movie’s completely silly, which is probably why it’s number one at the box office. Madea Goes to Jail is my first of these Southern-fried Madea movies, centered on Christian filmmaker Tyler Perry’s title character in drag, and its broad-based regional and cultural humor is a hit with black audiences. Disney’s Christian boy band, the overproduced and oversold Jonas Brothers, starring in their first movie, are no match for a black man in drag.