In this week's At the Movies with Peter Travers, Rolling Stone's movie critic talks about the new Clive Owen thriller The International, a "decent but not dazzling" drama that features what Travers calls "one of the great action scenes of all time," a 15-minute shoot-out in New York's Guggenheim Museum. Unfortunately, you won't be seeing The International this weekend. How come?

It's Valentine's Day, that's why! 2009 has already been a chick flick nightmare for Travers, with films like New in Town and Bride Wars stinking up theatres. This weekend, the ladies' destination of choice will be Confessions of a Shopaholic, a fringe Scum Bucket-worthy chick flick that is redeemed by one thing: actress Isla Fisher's comedic performance. Fisher already shined in Wedding Crashers and is married to Borat in real life, so she's a first-rate comic who stars in a chick flick that's "less of a torture," as Travers says.

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For months now, everyone (me included) has insisted that the late Heath Ledger of The Dark Knight is a lock for winning the Oscar as Best Supporting Actor on Feb. 22nd. I still think it will happen, despite the fact that the Academy has awarded only one single posthumous Oscar in its 82-year history. And that was to Peter Finch for his mad-as-hell TV anchorman in 1976's Network. What I'm saying is the Academy doesn't rush into these after-death honors. James Dean was just 24 years old when he died in a car crash in 1955 and became the first actor in Oscar history to win a posthumous acting nomination, for his performance in East of Eden. Dean received a second posthumous nomination the following year for Giant. He lost both times. Don't get me wrong. Ledger, who was 28 when he died from an accidental overdose of prescription drugs, definitely deserves the prize. His tour de force as the Joker belongs in a time capsule. I wouldn't envy the actor who beat him and had to get up there on Oscar night and accept the prize with Ledger's family in attendance. As an experiment, who would you pick as Best Supporting Actor if Ledger's name wasn't on the ballot? Here are the nominees:

PHILIP SEYMOUR HOFFMAN in DOUBT

As Father Flynn, the parish priest suspected by Sister Aloysius Beauvier (Meryl Streep) of behaving inappropriately with an altar boy, Hoffman nails every nuance in a complex role. Back in 2005, it was Hoffman who won the Oscar for Best Actor in Capote when Ledger was considered the favorite for his heartbreaking portrayal of the gay cowboy in Brokeback Mountain. Could that upset happen again?

ROBERT DOWNEY, JR. in TROPIC THUNDER

As Kirk Lazarus, an Aussie actor who has already collected five Oscars for losing himself in his roles, Downey ups his own ante on risk-taking. To prepare for the film role of African-American Sgt. Lincoln Osiris Kirk alters his voice and dyes his skin black. Kirk won't stop talking black even when the camera stops rolling. "I don't break character till the DVD commentary," says the out-of-control actor. Downey is so off-the-charts hilarious that you want to stand up and cheer.

MICHAEL SHANNON in REVOLUTIONARY ROAD

While his two costars, Kate Winslet and Leonardo DiCaprio, failed to score acting nominations for this drama about a 1950s marriage rotting in the suburbs, Shannon managed the feat. As John Givings, the institutionalized son of a gossipy realtor (Kathy Bates), the volcanic Shannon plays the role like a heat-seeking missile that targets hypocrisy, spitting truth at the young marrieds. He's electric.

JOSH BROLIN in MILK

As Dan White, the troubled San Francisco supervisor who shot and killed Harvey Milk, Brolin is simply astounding at revealing the inner torment of a man at odds with his own emotions. At a party, a drunk Dan approaches Harvey in a piercing display of yearning and isolation. It's a piercing scene, intensified later by an image of Dan naked in front of a window, utterly alone. Devastating.

MY CHOICE? Josh Brolin. His stature as an actor grows with each film, and this is his best, most deeply felt performance to date.

YOUR CHOICE? Let's hear it.

Peter Travers can't review another chick flick alone, so he brings in RollingStone.com's Erica Futterman to explain why women want to see movies like He's Just Not That Into You (starring Jennifer Aniston, Big Love's Ginnifer Goodwin, Scarlett Johannson, Ben Affleck, Drew Barrymore, Justin Long, Bradley Cooper, Jennifer Connelly and Entourage's Kevin Connolly), a new film based not on a novel, but a self-help book. Her explanation: it's the type of film groups of girls go to together, to laugh at the screen and cast their friends in the roles. Her biggest gripe with the film? Johannson's character is a caricature. His largest issue? The women are only defined by their relationships to slimy men. Want to hear the whole debate? Watch the video above and read Travers' one-and-a-half-star review here:

• Read Review: He's Just Not That Into You

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It's no secret why Sean Penn is the leading actor of his generation. His talent is right up there on screen, blazing so bright that you can’t miss it. That’s what makes him the frontrunner for this year’s Best Actor Oscar for Milk, in which his performance as the assassinated gay rights activist Harvey Milk is an act of total character immersion. In the Rolling Stone cover story, Penn talks about the importance of committing to a role, taking a shot at actors who put more energy into selling themselves as products than putting in the necessary work it takes to build a performance.

Has Penn ever sucked? You bet. Try Shanghai Surprise, the 1986 laugh-free farce he did with his ex-wife Madonna. Or All the King’s Men, the 2006 political drama that takes risks that just don’t pay off. It’s always been my theory that no actor can be truly great unless he or she risks falling on their ass. Look at Brando. Look at Streep. Penn belongs in that classy company.

Watch him take the screen as if by divine right in his first major screen role in 1981’s Taps, costarring with Tom Cruise (whatever happened to him?) as a cadet in a military school about to start his own revolution.

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Photo: Winter/Getty
Box-office reports this weekend show Slumdog Millionaire generating real heat, it's the only one of the five Oscar nominees for Best Picture to crack the Top Ten. But that hasn't stopped a backlash from kicking in. What was once the little movie that could is now the favorite movie to take a swing at. Everything from accusing the filmmakers of exploiting the child actors in Mumbai by paying them chickenfeed on a film whose worldwide gross is $86 million so far—to claims that the movie, from British director Danny Boyle, is dying in India because real slumdwellers hate being called slumdogs. Then there are the critics who insist the film is far from all its cracked up to be. The arguments go like this (jump in if you agree or disagree):

--The movie isn't an upper, it's "poverty porn," exploiting misery for fun and profit.

--It's a "white man's imagined India," not the real thing.

--The movie shows the worst aspects of India and that is what the western world likes to see.

--The plot is impossible to believe. The questions that young Jamal (Dev Patel) is asked on India's version of Who Wants To Be a Millionaire correspond chronologically with traumas in a young boy's life.

--The quiz show theme sends the wrong message— the answer is education and hard work, not a quick fix."

--The movie's joyfulness "feels more like a filmmaker’s calculation than an honest cry from the heart about the human spirit."

Do you buy into any of this? Do you think the backlashers have a point or are their criticisms just sour grapes?

This week, Rolling Stone's resident film critic is "depressed." Why? Because with all the Oscar-nominated films currently residing in theaters, you, America, have made "the dreadful and appalling" Paul Blart: Mall Cop the top-grossing film for two consecutive weekends. Instead of heading to Slumdog Millionaire, Milk or Frost/Nixon, the majority of Americans have proven they prefer to watch comedian Kevin James from cinematic masterpieces like I Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry and Hitch star as a shopping mall security guard. Shame on you, America.

It is late January, which is usually a dumping ground for movie studios to rid themselves of their most reviled films. Thus, Travers' Scum Bucket overflowth with Paul Blart, Underworld: Rise of the Lycans, Liam Neeson's Death Wish-esque Taken and the Renee Zellweger/Harry Connick Jr. rom-com New In Town, which Travers says is devoid of anything redeeming.

There is a light at the end of the tunnel, however:

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Here I am, just back from a way-better-than-OK Sundance Film Festival, to find that Paul Blart Mall Cop has topped the box office for the second week in a row. Somebody shoot me! This in a week when the Oscar nominees for Best Picture are in wide rotation. So much for the Sundance spirit of nurturing artful storytelling. The appeal of watching Kevin James' bumbling Bart save the mall from robbers (what a concept!) has shot this hackjob comedy to a 10-day box-office total of $64.8 million. All this puts me in denial. Or better yet in affirmation of a terrific movie I saw at Sundance that is the perfect antidote to the dumb cliches of Mall Cop.

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Look, it's early. We have a whole month till they hand out the Oscars on Feb. 22nd. And the Academy didn't do everything wrong. Slumdog Millionaire deserves it's 10 nominations. Milk totally deserves it's 8 nods. I'll have nastier things to say about the 13 nominations for The Curious Case of Benjamin Button that put it in the top position on the leaderboard. But the fact that the Academy recognized two great performances in small movies—I'm talking Richard Jenkins in The Visitor and Melissa Leo in Frozen River—earns a salute even from an inveterate Academy hater like me. Now on to the idiot decisions:

--No nomination for The Dark Knight as Best Picture. Are you kidding me? Here's a smart, visionary movie that restored the good name to movie epics. And the Academy ignores it. And for what? The Reader, a well-intentioned but flawed movie about the repercussions of the Holocaust.

--Kate Winslet, who as far as I'm concerned should get a nomination for almost everything she does, gets nominated for the wrong movie—The Reader instead of Revolutionary Road. It reminds me of that episode of Extras where Ricky Gervais goes up to Winslet, playing a nun, and tells her she'll never win an Oscar till she does a Holocaust movie. Ah, truth in comedy. Did Adrien Brody (The Pianist) really deserve to beat Daniel Day Lewis (Gangs of New York)? Did Roberto Benigni's crying clown act in Life Is Beautiful really merit a win over Tom Hanks (Saving Private Ryan) and Edward Norton (American History X)?

--No Best Actor nomination for Clint Eastwood in Gran Torino. WTF! Playing a Korean war vet living in Michigan, Eastwood gave a signature performance. It's the acting branch that makes these choices—the same dummies who gave Clint the Best Actor nomination for 2004's Million Dollar Baby that belonged to Paul Giamatti for Sideways. Now the shoe is on the other foot. Eastwood lost out to all that digital face painting Brad Pitt wore in Ben Button. Silly. If Clint had busted through the actors branch he might have given Sean Penn (Milk) and Mickey Rourke (The Wrestler) a race for the gold since all the 6000-plus Academy members vote on the awards themselves, not just the actors.

--And while I''m trashing the actors branch—do these idiots not understand how brilliant Kristin Scott Thomas is in I've Loved You So Long. Ditto Benicio Del Toro in Che. Double ditto Sally Hawkins in Happy Go Lucky. Come on.

--And what about the Best Song category. Not only does Eastwood compose a winner in the title track from Gran Torino, but Bruce Springsteen writes a stellar song for The Wrestler—a song that perfectly captures the spirit of the movie—and gets shafted. This category usually has five nominees. This year it's only three, which shows the shaft is intentional. That's how much the old farts in the songwriting branch know about music.

--Lastly, for now, the Academy had a chance in the Best Picture category to represent the artful best in animation. That would be Wall-E. No movie received better reviews last year. But the Academy has a ghetto category for Best Animation and quickly relegated Wall-E to limbo. Dumb! Dumb! Dumb!

OK, I've spoken, Now I want to hear from you. What are Oscars best and most boneheaded decisions in terms of this year's nominations?

Earlier today, this year's Oscar nominations were announced in Los Angeles. Was Peter Travers satisfied with the nods? Not exactly.

Does Brad Pitt give a Best Actor-worthy performance in The Curious Case of Benjamin Button — the film that received the most nods, with 13? What happened to The Dark Knight's Best Picture nomination? Could it be that Ricky Gervais' advice to Kate Winslet was accurate (do a Holocaust movie, nab an Oscar nomination)?

So what were the Academy's biggest mistakes? Nominating Winslet for The Reader rather than Revolutionary Road. Denying Bruce Springsteen a nomination for his end-credits song from The Wrestler.

Why's Travers so worked up? Keep reading to check out the nominations for the major categories, and click above to watch his breakdown of the biggest films and the most crushing disappointments of nomination day:

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Photo: Countess/Wireimage
Had a chance yesterday to mix it up with my new favorite movie critic—Mike Tyson. The former boxing champion is in Sundance to present Tyson, director James Toback's punch to the gut disguised as a documentary about Iron Mike's hellraising life up till now. More on the doc later, it's elemental, essential viewing. Anyway, I asked the champ—dressed like a fashion icon in suit and knotted tie among the designer-label ski-resort wear sported by visiting Hollywood royality much to the mockery of the refreshingly untrendy locals—what movies he'd seen lately. Turns out Clint Eastwood's Gran Torino was on his mind. "That was a good one," said Tyson with a secret smile, as if reliving the spectacle in his head of Eastwood staring down his rifle at a few hoods who trespass on his front yard. To hear Tyson's trademark lisp as he repeated Eastwood's catchphrase, "Get. Off. My. Lawn," will probably stand as my favorite memory of Sundance '09. Tyson said he had only one reservation about Gran Torino. "I didn't like the ending. He's referring, without spoiling the twist, to Eastwood playing against his violent Dirty Harry image, as he's pretty much done since Unforgiven. "Look, said Tyson, "I'm not stupid and I know what Clint was doin'. I respect it. But there's something in me that wanted to see him just blow people away. Come on, I think a lot of people in the audience want to see that."

Well do ya, punks?