Forgiveness doesn't come cheap in Hollywood. It helps if your films make money. It doesn't help if you're pulled in on a DUI, as Mel Gibson was two years ago, and rant to LAPD cops that Jews are "responsible for all the wars in the world." He soon apologized, met with Jewish leaders, and underwent treatment for alcoholism. But a bad taste lingered, fostered by previous charges of anti-Semitism against The Passion of the Christ, the religious lightning rod Gibson directed in 2004 and turned into the highest grossing ($370 million) R-rated film of all time. But now, after directing Apocalypto in 2006, Gibson has announced his return to ACTING! In August, he will travel to Boston to begin Edge of Darkness, starring as a cop who uncovers deep layers of corruption while investigating the death of his activist daughter. Adapted by Departed Oscar winner William Monahan from a 1985 BBC miniseries, the film—directed by Martin Campbell (Casino Royale)— will put Gibson's mug on screen for the first time in six years.

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Iron Man officially kicks off the big blockbuster season this Friday, and it begins on a high note. Click here to read Peter Travers' review of the excellent Robert Downey, Jr.-led super hero flick.

Go ahead. Waste your time with the DVD dreck being released today. Only a masochist would want to see Nicole Kidman in The Golden Compass, the megabudget and misbegotten epic that helped bring down New Line Cinema (now absorbed by Warner Bros). The chick flick, 27 Dresses, isn't torture for guys (nothing with Katherine Heigl in it could be), but it's relentlessly girlie. And all the while a good movie—hell, a groundbreaker—is in danger of being lost in the slush pile. That film is The Diving Bell and the Butterfly. When the film was released last November, I begged my friends to see it. They winced. "Isn't that the one about the stroke victim guy who who can only communicate by blinking?" Isn't it depressing? Isn't it in French with subtitles?" Ah, the trifecta of turnoffs. So they missed it, even when it won Oscar nominations for directing, screenwriting, editing and cinematography. They promised they would wait for the DVD.

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Enjoy the quiet. When the summer blasts off Friday with Iron Man, box-office grosses will start tripling and quadrupling the norm. For now, toke on this: The guy audience this weekend headed to Harold and Kumar Escape from Guantanamo Bay, the stoner farce which took in $14. 6 million. That's like, wow, man, since the first movie, Harold and Kumar Go To White Castle could barely smoke out a $5.5 million opening back in 2004. The power of DVD, dude. Repeat viewings at home have turned H&K into icons. OK, the boys didn't beat Baby Mama,

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Summer is here, and Peter Travers is ready to run down all the most hotly-anticipated blockbusters of the season. Click above for the Rolling Stone film critic's take on The Dark Knight, Iron Man, Get Smart and a bevy of others.

Watch every episode of our weekly Peter Travers video podcast by subscribing via iTunes (when prompted, click “Launch application”). Every Friday, a new episode will be delivered to your iTunes. [If you don’t have iTunes, download it here.]

[Video: Jennifer Hsu]

As everyone knows by now, Sex and the City—The Movie, will open on May 30th after four years of dicking around about how to get it made. Long story short: Kim Cattrall wanted to get the same money Sarah Jessica Parker was getting for the movie and held off until she came close. Presto: The Movie.

Now comes the major quandry: Can we still get it up for Sex and the City and at multiplex prices? Here's a take from Deb Dragon, the ab fab Rolling Stone photo editor whose job it is to slap me around when I make too many outrageous demands like, "Can I see a photo of that damn Crystal Skull that Indiana Jones is supposed to be chasing?" Deb, who takes no shit from us writer-editor types, had this to say when I asked her about Sex and the City:

"I will see it."

"I will see it early."

"And I fully expect it to suck."

There you have it. Ladies are going. Ditto metrosexuals. Macho posers will too, though they will insist that they had to be dragged. But why do Deb and half the other women I talk to expect the movie version to suck?

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I pissed off bunch of readers with my original mixed review of Cloverfield. Weeks before the January debut of this ambitious scareflick, evoking 9/11 with its shaky handheld digital camera tracking an alien attack on Manhattan, fans were palpitating for a new classic that would cement the YouTube-ification of Hollywood. Cloverfield opened huge with $46 million, then dropped like an elephant turd the second weekend by shedding 68 percent in cash money. For some reason, audiences turned on the hype monster they helped create. The Cloverfield DVD—one tight single disc package—lets us see the movie for what it is: borrowed inspiration, trite screenwriting and amateurish acting all in the service of a ballsy idea — that a horror movie could maybe have a soul. Watching Cloverfield at home brings out its best and worst qualities.

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Just when it looked like the hilarious Forgetting Sarah Marshall, would restore producer Judd Apatow to the box-office throne after faltering with Drillbit Taylor and Walk Hard, along came Jackie Chan and Jet Li to kick his butt. Well, it wasn't exactly an ass-whupping. Forgetting Sarah Marshall, featuring Jason Segel in the naked comedy performance of the year, scored $17 million as compared to $20 million for the Chan-Li Forbidden Kingdom. My hunch is that FSM will be a steady performer while FK took the temporary lead due to audience curiosity about the historic first teaming of two martial arts legends. After all, Forbidden Kingdom is a lame PG-13 excuse for hardcore kung fu, toning down the violence to sucker in the family crowd.

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With Al Pacino opening this weekend in one of the worst movies of his career—it’s a serial killer thriller called 88 Minutes and it seems 88 hours longer—the time is ripe to honor Pacino the ranter. In 88 Minutes, he screams, shouts and spits directly in the killer’s face, but it’s too little and too late. The movie sucks. Pacino rants best when the movie deserves his anger. In an addictive new book of movie lists, 10 Bad Dates with De Niro, editor Richard T. Kelly includes a provoking critical essay by Tim Robey entitled: The Mighty Apoplexies of Pacino—Ten Scenes Where ‘Shouty Al’ Shows Up. Robey gives pride of place to The Devil’s Advocate, in which demon Al, in a slice of Parma-grade Pacino ham, rants about his Almighty enemy:

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This week's Peter Travers Video Review features long hard looks at the Judd Apatow-produced breakup comedy Forgetting Sarah Marshall and the Al Pacino vehicle 88 Minutes. Which one is worth your time and money at the cineplex this weekend? Click above for the full take from the Rolling Stone film critic.

• Review: Forgetting Sarah Marshall

• Review: 88 Minutes

Watch every episode of our weekly Peter Travers video podcast by subscribing via iTunes (when prompted, click “Launch application”). Every Friday, a new episode will be delivered to your iTunes. [If you don’t have iTunes, download it here.]

[Video: Jennifer Hsu]