Mary Elizabeth Williams

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"What Happens in Vegas"
This Ashton Kutcher-Cameron Diaz romantic comedy needs fewer sunsets and more lap dances and tequila shooters.
"Dr. Seuss' Horton Hears a Who"
It is here, it is here, it is here, it is here: Feature-length, animated reparation for the appalling live-action versions of Seuss' books we've recently endured!
Do not go gentle into that Eileen Fisher
As a mother in her 40s, I found the idea of a bestseller called "How Not to Look Old" appalling. That didn't keep me from buying it.
"Definitely, Maybe"
The most melancholy romantic comedy in years? Definitely. The first midlife crisis movie for Generation X? Maybe. Happy Valentine's Day!
Tween bees
First "High School Musical," now "Hannah Montana." Are preteen girls staging a complete cultural coup? Totally!
Remembering Heath Ledger
He was young, he was beautiful, and he had a pure gift for playing troubled souls -- which makes the actor's death all the more tragic.
"27 Dresses"
We now pronounce this wedding-centric romantic comedy as subtle as a stripper at a bachelor party.
A moral "Compass"
Far from exposing children to "the demonic," as some Catholics claim, "The Golden Compass" celebrates independent thinking. As a Catholic, I hope my daughter will see it.
"The Invasion"
The pod people are back -- and they're coming for Nicole Kidman.
"License to Wed"
I now pronounce you ... one unbelievably crappy movie.
Finale wrap-up: "Heroes"
The season ends satisfyingly with a supernova of self-sacrifice.
Finale wrap-up: "30 Rock"
The deliciously dysfunctional ensemble comedy's season-ender rushes to tie up loose ends. Don't leave us, Alec Baldwin!
Jumping jack flash
Naughty "striptease" workouts may be the hottest new fitness craze, but when it comes to female sexual power, I'm not sure I want to take my cues from Carmen Electra.
Rachael Ray, my dinner hooker
As much as I say "barf-o" to her perky "yum-os," I have to admit the frightfully popular TV host's quick and reliable meals can't be beat.
Vive la Liberator!
It looks like an ordinary orthopedic back pillow -- but can a mail-order sex prop really set my fantasies free?
Finale wrap-up: "Scrubs"
Tuesday's episode delivered a trademark barrage of taste-defying gags to a laugh-track-free beat -- and a surprise ending!
Feeding frenzy
I know I should only feed my kids organics and deny them fructose. But shouldn't they learn the value of a good hot fudge sundae?
Sexual healing
I used to relish the challenge of being good in bed. I read the Kama Sutra with steely discipline, confident there wasn't a skill I couldn't master. Then I had a baby.
You don't know Jack?
Jack radio is cheap and soulless and all about random sex; it's also the new love of my life. Who needs Howard Stern?
My DVD dealer
With Netflix, never again will I have to endure the humiliation of having a video-store clerk bray, "You have a late fee on 'Bubble Boy.'"
Bootylicious
My kids' favorite snack smells funkier than poop, has questionable nutritional value and leaves a trail of bright green powder in its wake. Still, I can't imagine life without it.
It's still my church
My faith brings me profound comfort, even though the Catholic Church has failed so many others in grievous ways.
Manet's "Olympia"
With a single shocking canvas depicting a prostitute in repose, Édouard Manet ushered in the brave nude world of modern art.
Coming out Rosie
Is O'Donnell's admission of her sexual preference a bombshell -- or a no-brainer?
"Baby Boy"
John Singleton's urban drama has noble intentions, but it's as lost as its protagonist.
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