Every Sunday I watch “At the Movies with Ebert and Roeper.” The show should really be called “At the Critic War with Phillips, Scott and Roeper,” because Michael Phillips, A.O. Scott, and Richard Roeper argue over films like a pack of wild lions fighting over a flank steak. (Since Ebert was diagnosed with cancer various guest critics have filled in for him on the balcony. This season Phillips and Scott have rotated in and out of the guest critic position with the most frequency.) The heated dialogue exchange will leave you feeling so incredibly squeamish that for a moment you’ll wonder if you’re watching Simon Cowell berate an American Idol contestant on an MTV episode of Celebrity Death Match. Yes, its that brutal. Of course, this is the inherent fault of a show whose premise is to pick films apart bit by painstaking bit. Moreover, the critics have to maintain some level of narcissism, lest their credibility with the audience be called into question. So, when the critics disagree about the merits of a film one should immediately head for the coat closet, dawn a rain slicker, galoshes, and open an umbrella. The critics get so angry over their differences of opinion they not only shower one another with insults, but spit as well. In the words of Daffy Duck, that’s “desthpicable.”

Most often these disagreements arise because the critics’ have very different approaches to review. Roeper, more or less, is like the average American movie-goer. If a film can extract any emotional response out of his gawky body, he’s likely to recommend the film to the audience. He can do this because his recommendations are almost always followed by the word “but.” For example, “This movie was funny and up-lifting, but its not likely to win any awards for acting or directing.” This type of statement is sort of like getting an apology from a friend with a “but.” “I am sorry I dropped your MP3 player into the toilet, but you left it sitting on the bathroom counter.” Its not really an apology if you’re blaming the other person for leaving it in the bathroom, now is it? Moreover, its not really a film recommendation if you’re finding fault with the actors and director. Its a sort of half-hearted recommendation just like the apology is a half-hearted apology.

On the other hand, Michael Phillips and A.O. Scott are the critic equivalent of the most egotistical university professor imaginable. When Phillips and Scott open their mouths to speak about a movie its like a subliminal message is being flashed across the television screen that reads, “You are not here to learn. You are here to listen to me.” Drop your pen or pencil and put your notebook away because Phillips and Scott are about to “school” you in the art of film-making. Unless the film is Oscar caliber they’re not likely to recommend it.

When the Roeper-Phillips or Roeper-Scott duo do agree its shocking, Exorcist-head-turning-a-360 shocking. I can’t help but believe the movie was either a) so wonderfully constructed that they all couldn’t help but fall in love with it or b) so blatantly horrendous that they all threw-up popcorn on their way out of the cinema. It makes you wonder if these critics have been coached in the art of reverse psychology. When they agree its as if all the stars in the universe have aligned and my movie-going destiny has been charted out for the next 10 years.

So, a couple of weeks ago, when Richard Roeper and A.O. Scott ripped into the 2008 film, Jumper, with fangs, claws, and steak knives, I was disappointed. Somewhere, Hannibal Lecter is dining on the delectable leftovers from Roeper’s and Scott’s feast. I wanted to enjoy Jumper so badly I convinced myself they were full of *^%%^$$%$#@! and their review was (*%$#$^^^&$^@. I couldn’t have been more wrong.

Watching Jumper is like reading every fourth chapter of a book. After a while I had no idea what was going on, what the goal of the characters was, who anyone actually was, or how everyone related to one another.

The movie begins by introducing you to the younger, main character, David Rice (played by Hayden Christensen). We learn that David is bullied at school, his mother left when he was very young, and his father is a lazy alcoholic. (All three of these elements are used repeatedly in Young Adult films.) When an accident occurs and younger David must escape to avoid death, he makes his first “jump.” More simply put, using the power of his mind he transports himself from one location to another. Herein lies the reason I wanted to enjoy this movie. The concept of being able to jump from one locale to another is alluring, and likely to present some entertaining obstacles. Such is not the case with this film.

David grows up, lives a life of luxury, and has sex with any and every woman he can seduce. Watching his life is sort of like reading a tabloid or watching Entertainment Tonight. I know someone, somewhere has more than I do and being reminded of it doesn’t necessarily make for good entertainment. So, David is thrust into a historical battle between Jumpers and Paladins. Are you confused yet? Good. So, was I. I’d love to tell you about this fascinating history between the two groups, who they are, where they came from, why the battle rages on - unfortunately none of this is explained. Rather, we are thrust into this war with absolutely no comprehension of the situation. Is a Jumper a good person? I don’t know. Is a Paladin a bad person? I don’t know. All we do know is that the two groups don’t get along and are actively hostile. So it stands that if you don’t know who is good and who is bad and why the war exists, it is painfully difficult to feel any emotional connection with the characters in the film. This movie hops, skips, and jumps over the story like an alcoholic bunny rabbit on steroids.

Quite simply, it doesn’t make a lick of sense. Jumper made an incredibly cool idea incredibly boring.

Damn you Phillips, Scott, and Roeper. Damn you and your good reviews.

Tags: A.O. Scott, credibility, Critic, Ebert, film, Hannibal Lecter, Hayden Christensen, Jumper, Michael Phillips, movie, MTV, Oscar, Richard Roeper, Roeper, Simon Cowell