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I don’t look for art at the movies; that’s the fastest way to run amuck. All I ask is that the movie either be good or awful, and if it turns out to be both (Temptation Island), so much the better.

Push meets my standard—it is ineptly-directed, idiotically-plotted, incomprehensible and often boring—but the director seems unaware of the unwritten rule of movies starring Chris Evans (or Ryan Reynolds, Dominic Cooper, James Marsden and other mid-level actors): he must take off the shirt. Alright, technically he’s shirtless in one scene, but all we see is a bunch of bruises.

Push belongs to the “If you have special powers, the government will hunt you down and weaponize you” genre (Firestarter, etc). It’s about a bunch of people with psychic powers—like the X-Men, only mental. The evil ones work for a secret government agency called The Division, and the others freelance. There are so many of them running around, you wonder if anyone is ordinary (Plus if everyone’s special, then no one is special).

According to Dakota Fanning’s character, there are several categories of special powers: the Movers like Chris Evans can move objects with their minds, the Shifters like Cliff Curtis can alter the appearance of objects, Sniffers can track a person by smelling their personal effects (potentially gross), Pushers can manipulate people by getting into their heads, and Watchers can see whatever you’re doing. Dakota’s character can see images of the future, which she draws with shiny pens on a journal with black pages. Unfortunately the future constantly changes, so her visions are unreliable. Dakota herself seems like an old person in a tiny body: she’s like Alia the Abomination in Dune.

The incomprehensible plot involves a Watcher who escapes from the Division and is chased by big scary Djimon Honsou to Hong Kong, where despite his telekinetic abilities Chris Evans is not making a good living playing dice. There are lots of chaotic chase scenes involving Chinese guys who can make your brain bleed by screaming. Chris and company can’t plan anything without the Watchers knowing, so he has a great idea. He writes down everyone’s tasks on slips of paper and puts them in sealed red envelopes that they can’t open until they get to their assignments. That way the Watchers can’t read their intentions. “But won’t the Watchers find out when Chris writes down their tasks?” Kermit points out. Doh!

Lots of movies opened today: Gran Torino, Vicky Cristina Barcelona, He’s Just Not That Into You, and Confessions of a Shopaholic. I decided to watch the one with the worst reviews first, so Shopaholic. The subject is already dated (pre-financial meltdown, title ending in -holic, etc) but I suppose it’s comforting to those who are on enforced retail rehab. It’s a Bruckheimer production, so you know it will have all the subtlety of a sledgehammer to the back of the head. Shopaholic is one of those chick-lit things (like Sex and the City) which propagate the notion that one can make a living writing a column. Ha! Ha! Ha!

Isla Fisher is an appealing lead—she’s cute (but not so cute that you’d want to shoot her), charmingly bonkers, and with a flair for physical comedy. Her editor is played by Hugh Dancy, who is so adorable that I googled him the minute the movie ended and discovered that he is engaged to Claire Danes. End of crush. (Does this mean Billy Crudup is free?)

Photo: Hugh Dancy

The movie is entirely predictable and occasionally incredible (she writes one article and becomes famous) but afterwards you don’t feel like you’ve been mugged, and I say this as one who would’ve bolted from the Sex and the City movie if my gay friend had not stepped on my shoelaces.