Adrienne Maxwell

Video: 4
Audio: 3
Extras: 4
Based on a comic strip by Michael Fry and T. Lewis, Over the Hedge follows a group of critters who, after a long winter’s sleep, wake up to find a housing development in their backyard. Enter RJ, a self-serving raccoon who introduces them to the glory of potato chips, cookies, and other human scraps—and dupes the nave foragers into helping him repay a food debt to an ominous black bear. The film serves up likable characters, some laugh-out-loud moments, and a script that cleverly lampoons humans’ tendency to overdo, well, everything—yet it doesn’t quite possess the allure and enduring charm of a Shrek or Finding Nemo.

Video: 3
Audio: 3
Extras: 4
Usually, shows that take place in a hospital fall into the hour-long drama category, with a few comedic moments thrown in to dilute the sad stuff. Scrubs has achieved something we haven't seen since M.A.S.H.—it's a hospital-based sitcom that is truly funny, with a few sad moments thrown in to dilute the happy stuff. OK, M.A.S.H. also dealt with war and managed to be funny, so it wins. But Scrubs' excellent melding of bizarre slapstick, wonderfully flawed but lovable characters, and genuine sentiment has made it one of the best sitcoms on TV right now.

Video: 4
Audio: 3
Extras: 2
“Syriana is one of the most relevant stories in the world today,” says the film’s executive producer, Jeff Skoll, in the “Make a Change, Make a Difference” featurette on Warner Brothers’ new DVD release. He’s absolutely right, as even a cursory glance at world and domestic news will confirm. The film paints an unflinching portrait of the world’s dependence on oil and the lengths to which politicians and businessmen will go to maintain the status quo in the global oil fields, even as that status quo contributes to the rise of Islamic extremism in countries where people are afforded few other options.

Video: 4
Audio: 4
Extras: 4
Many a time have I listened to friends lament that a movie isn’t as good as the book on which it’s based. I just smile and nod, thinking smugly to myself that, if these poor people would just stop reading, they’d be much happier moviegoers. Then one of these friends gave me the novel The Da Vinci Code as a gift. I knew full well that Dan Brown’s insanely popular religious-themed murder mystery would someday become a film, yet I foolishly read it anyhow. And now here I am, forced to utter the same five words I once so smugly dismissed: “Eh, the book was better.”