J. Edgar

The first—and probably last—pairing of director Clint Eastwood and Leonardo DiCaprio proves a sloppy, drawn out, lumbering failure. This leaden dud qualifies as one of the movie year’s hugest disappointments. Most of the blame goes to Eastwood, who uses droning voiceovers and a washed-out visual approach that just spells boring. The subject matter calls for something epic, but Eastwood’s dreary choices make it uncomfortably intimate and small. It just feels awkward. Eastwood apparently shot this film quickly on a modest budget, and it shows. And, it must be said, the normally reliable Mr. DiCaprio is miscast this time out. He’s all wrong for a part that requires him to age almost 50 years. And the voice he employs, especially during the ponderous voiceover narration, sounds as if he is attempting his best Darth Vader impersonation.