Three generations of rock guitarists come together for It Might Get Loud, a 2009 documentary directed by Davis Guggenheim (An Inconvenient Truth). These are not just your garden-variety guitar gods: Jimmy Page, in his mid-'60s at the time of the film, founded Led Zeppelin, who dominated the 1970s following the breakup of the Beatles. As a member of U2, 48-year-old David Evans, better known as the Edge, created one of the most distinctive and influential sounds of the past quarter century. And 34-year-old Jack White (of the White Stripes, the Raconteurs, and the Dead Weather) was described by one music publication as "the most significant rock 'n' roll figure of the past ten years." Guggenheim, who followed the three around for the better part of a year, takes us into their individual lives, past and present. There are shots of Page as a young London session musician, with the Yardbirds and Zeppelin, at Headley Grange (the estate where much of the fourth Zep album was made), and at home with his record collection. The Edge takes us to the Dublin classroom where U2 first rehearsed, as well as to the practice room he uses now (never a virtuoso soloist, he developed a style based on texture and a mind-boggling array of effects); and White, whose insistence on authenticity is admirable but perhaps a tad self-conscious, constructs a "guitar" from a plank of wood, a piece of wire, and a Coke bottle (he also plays a recording by the primitive bluesman Son House, featuring just voice and handclaps, that White says is still his biggest inspiration). The three also converge on a Hollywood sound stage, where they chat and a do a little jamming on Zep's "In My Time of Dying" (with all three playing slide guitar) and the Band's "The Weight." It's hard to say if the film's appeal will extend beyond guitar freaks and fans of these particular bands, but at the very least, It Might Get Loud offers some interesting insight into the soul and inspiration behind some of pop's best and most popular music. --Sam Graham

Conceived as an "online miniseries event" during the 2008 writers' strike, Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog is a 42-minute musical romp that bears the distinctive stamp of Joss Whedon. Neil Patrick Harris (How I Met Your Mother) plays the title character, who video-blogs about his twin goals to join the Evil League of Evil and to woo the fair Penny (Felicia Day, of Whedon's Buffy the Vampire Slayer and the Web series The Guild), a woman he met at the local laundromat. Dr. Horrible is foiled on both fronts, however, by his arch-nemesis, the self-absorbed superhero Captain Hammer (Nathan Fillion, Whedon's Firefly).

Dr. Horrible was written by Whedon, his brothers Zack and Jed, and Jed's fiancee Maurissa Tancharoen, and the songs were written by Joss and Jed (who also produced, orchestrated, played, etc.) with some lyrics by Tancharoen. (Jed and Tancharoen have backup singing roles.) The offbeat, off-the-cuff humor is laugh-out-loud funny, and just like Dr. Horrible wants to take over the world, the songs will take over your head: they're engaging ("My Freeze Ray'), stirring ("My Eyes"), and sweet ("Penny's Song"). "So They Say" is particularly evocative of Jonathan Larson's Rent, but as with Joss Whedon's musical episode of Buffy, "Once More with Feeling," the influences are diverse. It's hard to imagine a better cast. Harris, who's sung Sondheim on Broadway, is a great lead and clearly the best singer, Day is completely charming, and who better than Captain Tightpants to play the pompous superhero? One could argue about the ending, and the independent budget shows, but Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog is a complete hoot for people who enjoy musicals with quirky humor. Plan on watching it multiple times. --David Horiuchi

On the DVD
If you've already watched or downloaded Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog, a number of bonus features might entice you. There are two commentary tracks: Harris, the three Whedons, Tancharoen, Day, and Fillion recorded a spirited track discussing the movie, and there's also "Commentary! The Musical" in which they ignore the movie and sing about the writers' strike and each other (e.g., Fillion sings "I'm Better than Neil")--the songs aren't as good as the Horrible songs, but it's good silly fun. A 20-minute making-of discusses the cast, the recording sessions, and how the movie became a phenomenon, and 10 videos (a half-hour total) were recorded by fans who want to join the Evil League of Evil. And when's the last time you wanted to pause the FBI warning? --David Horiuchi

Crude, juvenile, and proud of it, Step Brothers stars Will Ferrell and John C. Reilly as two 40-year-old men, both living at home and leading the lives of 13-year-old boys, who are thrown together when their single parents (Mary Steenburgen, Parenthood, and Richard Jenkins, Six Feet Under) get married. Brennan (Ferrell) and Dale (Reilly) start out hating each other as only teenage boys can--but things get even worse for their long-suffering parents when they become best friends. Step Brothers gets most of its mileage from very lowbrow humor, but hidden among the farts and masturbation jokes is the suggestion that while these guys may be emotionally arrested, so are Brennan's hotshot business executive brother (Adam Scott, Tell Me You Love Me) and his high-fiving frat-boy pals, just in a way that's condoned because it makes money. Also crucial is that Ferrell and Reilly capture adolescence in all its gruesome glory--the awkward insecurity but also the egomaniacal, arrogant self-centeredness. Mind you, this isn't the American version of The 400 Blows or anything--one of the movie's setpieces features Brennan tea-bagging Dale's drum set (and if you don't know what tea-bagging is... well, you will after seeing this movie). All in all, Step Brothers combines the adolescent humor of producer Judd Apatow (Superbad, Knocked Up) and the comic chemistry of Ferrell and Reilly (who previously costarred in Talladega Nights)--fans of either will find plenty to enjoy. --Bret Fetzer

Stills from Step Brothers (click for larger image)

The fourth season of Entourage follows Vincent Chase's quest for legitimacy (and Oscar) through his dream project, the Pablo Escobar biopic Medellin, whose development deal was the focus of season three. As expected, the production is riddled with troubles: Vincent (Adrian Grenier) and Eric (Kevin Connolly) clash over the ability of the film's director, Billy Walsh (Rhys Coiro), to handle the grand scale of a film. Eric even flies in Oscar-winning screenwriter Stephen Gaghan (playing himself) to the shoot in Colombia at Billy's request in order to rescue the script, only to send him home when Billy comes up with the ending himself. ("I've never had anyone pay me not to work before," says Gaghan in a hilarious cameo. "It was nice.") But as the pet project puts strains on their friendship, Eric finally takes a step off of Vince's coattails to become a manager in his own right; his first step is snagging actress Anna Faris (as herself) as a client (in true Hollywood form, after she hits him with her car). As buzz on Medellin ebbs and flows, Eric and Vince's agent, Ari Gold (Emmy winner Jeremy Piven) wheel and deal to lock in distribution and spin the behind-the-scenes drama to their advantage. Key to the negotiations is a swaggering, hotheaded studio magnate named Harvey Weinhald--the caricature is obvious--who threatens the life of any agent who double-crosses him. And that's right where our boys land, but is it a gamble that will pay off? The fourth season, as always, is rife with celebrity cameos (Dennis Hopper, the late Sydney Pollack, Kanye West), but the Medellin plot pushes out any chance for other Entourage cast members to get a storyline (Johnny Drama gets a condo! Buys a hat!), which ultimately becomes a detriment considering that Medellin, as the big finale at Cannes attests, may not have been worth all the hype. Bonus features include commentary by the cast and creators, a panel discussion, and the Medellin trailer, which with its slo-mo, self-important music and bad makeup, is a gem. --Ellen A. Kim