Jingle All the Way (PG) ** 1/2 If it weren't for the credits "A Brian Levant Film" and "Directed by Brian Levant," one would be certain that the director behind this family comedy was Home Alone's Chris Columbus, for its wall-to-wall slapstick sure bears the Columbus stamp (he actually only produced). If you know what I'm talking about, then you know all you really need to know about this tale of two stressed-out fathers (Arnold Schwarzenegger and a scene-stealing Sinbad) trying to find the hottest action figure of the season, Turbo Man, on Christmas Eve to give to their respective sons. The first hour is what you would expect from a Columbus production, with cartoony fights, lots of stuff being knocked down and tripped over, and ceaseless mugging (which, needless to say, is _not_ Schwarzenegger's strong suit). What keeps this kidpleaser from being completely tired is the surprising special effects-laden final act. No point in blowing the specifics, but this film's closing twenty minutes or so are more funny and entertaining than the hour which precedes it. Only a must-see for Arnold fanatics and fans of that broad, oh-so-Columbus-y brand of slapstick.

Shine (PG-13) *** 1/2 Scott Hicks's film of the life story of Australian pianist David Helfgott is inspiring, memorable cinema--the kind of film that Oscar voters go ga-ga for. We follow David (played as a child by Alex Rafalowicz, then as an adolescent by Noah Taylor) as he gains early fame for his remarkable talent and then, while studying at London's Royal College, suffer a debiliatating mental breakdown--thanks in no small part to the stress put on him by his domineering father (Armin Mueller-Stahl). Years pass, and 40-something David (now played by Geoffrey Rush) is a mumbling mental case prone to public nudity and grabbing women's breasts. But slowly, surely, with the help of friends and the love of a woman (Lynn Redgrave), he finds his way back to the piano and the glory that came with it. Shine is at its best in its first half, focusing on the fascinating and heartbreaking relationship between father and son--brought to vivid life by Taylor and Mueller-Stahl, who is so painfully real as a man who obviously loves his son immensely yet just can't express it the right way. The second half is highly involving and inspiring, but without the captivating Mueller-Stahl and the compelling father-son dynamic at the forefront, it can't quite match the emotional power of the opening. Even the ending doesn't pack the punch one would expect, but Hicks should be commended for that, for the light close is in line with his admirable eschewing of overt melodramatics. Like The Crying Game back in 1992, Shine should be "the little indie that could"; with a passionate groundswell of support, it will undoubtedly be a major award contender in March.