* Welcome to The Big Jewel, the gem that out-glitters even Hollywood. This week Andrew Kiraly has something to whet your appetite for the Oscars.

Taglines To Underwhelming Movies

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This time, they pushed him to slightly just this side of “too far.”

Part robot. Part woman. All nun.

HE’S BACK FOR MORE. (In moderation.)

A story you’ll never forget. For a day or two, tops.

Find out why the critics express an abiding tolerance for this movie.

For people who just can’t get enough epilogue.

He’s back for more chase scenes, explosions and so forth.

A film unlike any you’ve ever seen, technically.

This time-traveling ear, nose and throat specialist is going places. Mostly historical ears, noses and throats.

She’s an outdoor cat with an indoor heart.

What do you get the globe-trotting playboy who has everything? A committed relationship with a quirky woman who favors peasant skirts, apparently.

He’s back for more, and this time he’s got a medium-sized container to carry it.

Can’t get enough Children of the Corn?

History comes alive in this three-hour montage of Civil War daguerreotypes with a voice-over by Hal Holbrook.

He’s back for more of a slight variation on what he was back for in the previous sequel.

Uncomfortable silence finally hits the big screen.

He’s a farm boy. She’s a city girl. Can town and country meet in the middle? Yes, with good communication and a willingness to compromise.

A romantic comedy for people who are also fond of the frozen-Neanderthal-thawed-in-modern-times premise.

He’s back for more (of the same).

They kidnapped his family. They stole his identity. They shattered his life. But he’s got a secret weapon: small-claims court.

What’s a claustrophobic agoraphobe to do?

A movie, but with a twist.

He’s back for etc.

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The Perils of Dating the Daughter of Chris Hansen of Dateline NBC’s To Catch a Predator

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AMANDA HANSEN: Hi, Dylan! You’re early. Let me just run upstairs real quick and grab a hair scrunchy. I went swimming so my hair’s sooo frizzy today. Be right back!

DYLAN: No problem.

CHRIS HANSEN [suddenly emerging from behind a curtained doorway]: Oh, I think we have a problem all right.

DYLAN: Whoa, Mr. Hansen. You scared me —

CHRIS HANSEN: Hi there. Why don’t you just have a seat on that stool.

DYLAN: W-what’s going on, Mr. Hansen?

CHRIS HANSEN: Let me ask you that question. What exactly are you doing here?

DYLAN: Well, like I told you yesterday, since I got my driver’s license, my dad’s been letting me borrow the car on Fridays, so I figured me and Amanda would go out for some pizza, and maybe go bowling later —

CHRIS HANSEN: Pizza and bowling, huh? Just a little innocent fun?

DYLAN: Uh, sure.

CHRIS HANSEN: I might believe that. Except that’s not what it says on your chat log.

[Produces a sheaf of printouts, which he flips through with grim, paternal menace.]

It says here, “Got the car tonight so maybe we can grab a pizza and maybe go bowling after if that’s cool with you.” Your screen name is Dylan3867, is it not?

DYLAN: Yeah…I just instant-messaged her. We go through this every time, Mr. Hansen. I don’t see what the big deal —

CHRIS HANSEN: And you drove — what? — for twenty minutes to meet a fifteen-year-old girl for — what do you say here in your chat? — “I’d love to get a sausage special, but it’s lame, I can’t have meat for a month because of the new braces.” “Sausage special”? Is that the sort of thing you say to a fifteen-year-old girl? Then you go on to brag here how “awesome” your “sausage special” is —

DYLAN: It’s a kind of pizza, Mr. Hansen —

CHRIS HANSEN: And what about this “meat”? Did you bring any of this “meat” with you? And I don’t even think I want to know what you mean by “new braces.”

DYLAN: Mr. Hansen, I don’t mean any disrespect, but I think you’ve become a little obsessed ever since your show —

CHRIS HANSEN: She’s fifteen. What do you think would have happened if I wasn’t here?

DYLAN: I-I don’t know. We’d hang out, whatever —

CHRIS HANSEN: Just you, her and your “sausage special,” I take it? Maybe those “hot meat braces” you have in your car?

DYLAN: What are you talking abou —

CHRIS HANSEN: If that is, in fact, a car in the driveway. How can I be sure that’s not a giant sex toy filled with wine coolers and edible condoms?

DYLAN: But you’ve seen my dad’s car before —

CHRIS HANSEN: You brought your dad? It’s rare that I say this, Dylan, but I am truly appalled. How old did you say you were?

DYLAN: Sixteen. You know that, Mr. Hansen. But I don’t see why it’s even —

CHRIS HANSEN: Sixteen? You’re old enough to be this girl’s father! Maybe even her grandfather. Don’t you see anything wrong with that? What in the world possesses a sixteen-year-old man to want to meet a fifteen-year-old girl?

DYLAN: Come on, Mr. Hansen. I really like Amanda, but when you do this I start to wonder —

CHRIS HANSEN: Listen to me. There’s something you need to know. [Several cameramen emerge from various hiding places.]

DYLAN: Oh, God, Mr. Hansen, you do this every time I come over —

CHRIS HANSEN: I’m Chris Hansen with Dateline NBC, and we’re doing a story on —

AMANDA HANSEN [descending stairs]: Sorry about the wait! My cats are always playing with my hair scrunchies so I can never find — Dad! Can you cut it out already? God, that is so embarrassing!

CHRIS HANSEN: Sorry, hon. Sorry. Go have fun tonight. Remember, I want you back by ten.

[Turning to the red-faced Dylan, who is now quivering with barely suppressed rage]

Well, Dylan, if you have nothing more to say for yourself, then you’re free to go. [Dylan and Amanda leave.]

[To the cameramen as he peers out the living-room window]

If I’m not mistaken, that’s Mr. Kovitz coming up the driveway to return the hedge clippers he borrowed — and no doubt consummate the lurid Internet tryst he’s arranged with my wife.

Back to your places, everyone! Let’s do this.

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