Ellen Page’s new flick Whip It transported me back to those Saturday afternoons when I watched Roller Derby on TV.

Anyone else remember Skinny Minnie Miller, the bad girl of roller derby. Actually they were all bad girls in roller derby and that is what made it so brilliant.

Roller Derby was a rock ‘em, sock ‘em, throw-em-into-the-boards contact-sport … for girls.

Back in the 70s, girls didn’t have a lot of opportunity for contact sports, so roller derby was it.

It was the Grand Pre Wrestling for girls. Skinny Minnie and Roller Derby broke all the rule on how girls and women were supposed to behave.

It showed them that girls were allowed to kick butt. And they never had to apologize.

Whip It was a fun movie but the memories it evoked were even better

I saw.

And I was disappointed by the newest Harry Potter blockbuster, The Half Blood Prince.

In fact, the flick left me feeling a little steamed, so steamed that on the way out I gave a big thumbs down to friends on their way into the movie.

I later phoned to apologize for being a downer. They accepted the apology but said I was apologizing for the wrong thing – I should have just stopped them from going in at all.

O-keee, so why was I steamed? Well, it’s probably got to do with my own expectations. They were high. And they were not met this time.

Here’s the deal with Half Blood Price: If you like teen RomComs a la the Twilight fanchise, you will probably like The Half Blood Price.

But if you expected a tightly plotted wizardy adventure that holds you to the end, you’ll be disappointed.

OK, yes there was some of that old Harry Potter magic. There were great scenes with evil death eaters buzzing around, and Snape and Draco Malfoy were deliciously villainous. (Of course, my enduring crush on Alan Rickman makes me love everything he does no matter how evil.)

The plot also revealed some interesting insights into Harry’s arch-enemy Voldemort and his elusive powers.

As always, there was some lovely photography and a spectacularly slimely and cringe-making scene in a cave. A  few “gotcha!” moments made me jump. And I love the scenes in which that warm amber glow casts into the dark, dampness of Hogwarts. It serves as a cozy refuge from the evil and dangers that lurk all around.

But Half Blood Price came up short for me.

The RomCom subplot with Ron falling under his love spell felt contrived and a little too cute for the HP franchise.  If there was a more sinister undertone, it might have worked better. Instead, it was very junior high and goofy, a clumsy distraction from the main story.

And in that main plot, we didn’t have enough development of Draco’s character and insights into his motivations. You need insights into the “bad guys” in order to make the plot sing.

Professor Horace Slughorn was a very interesting character who also wasn’t revealed to his potential, considering his central involvement in the rise of Voldemort.

The story arc felt uneven and pitchy and when we finally reached the climax, I wasn’t sure that it was a climax at all. It left me reaching for something more to close the movie.

I know there will be another movie to end the Harry Potter story, but if I’m paying good money and investing precious weekend time on a movie, I want to leave feeling satisfied.

Half Blood Price was like one of those essays you padded out in highschool because you only had 500 words to give the topic, and teacher wanted 2000.

Let’s hope for better next time.

I don’t necessarily mean Christmas movies, although I’m always a sucker for It’s a Wonderful Life with Jimmy Stewart which isn’t just a schmaltzy holiday movie but a dark commentary on the perils capitalism, individualism and greed.

Hmm. Timely material, no? (It does end with a feel-good factor so no need to run out and slit your wrists.)

I particularly enjoy those comedic fast-talking flicks with witty, stylish gals and trench-coated, fedora-topped guys. Remember Girl Friday with Cary Grant and Rosalind Russell?

Today’s comedies are so chock-a-block with stick-limbed, whiney and witless women. Why can they “sock it to ‘em” like Bette Davis used to do in All About Eve.

And the men of modern comedy aren’t much better, either. They are either dysfunctional adolescents who refuse to grow up, or muscle-headed Tarsans who look as though they’ve overdosed on Rx supplements.

Where’s charm gone? The smarts? The good lines?

I’ve DVR-ed a Billy Wilder flick called Love in the Afternoon with Audrey Hepburn and George Cooper. I also have What’s up Doc with Streisand on the queue.

But I’m not a “buff” when it comes to old flicks. So help me out.

Given what I’ve just said here, what should I watch this Christmas? Give me a good laugh, a bit of style, some wit and charm.

Send your suggestions to me here in the comments section. I’ll compile a list and post in a week or so.

I mean, come on. A movie about a guy who falls for an inflato chick? Like yeah, I’m going to waste my precious movie-watching time on that.

True, this is the premise, but the subject matter is handled deftly and tastefully. It uses the central character Lars and his inflato chick Bianca to explore the territory of human pain and emotional dysfunction.

Lars (Ryan Gosling) is quiet and a loner. He lives in the garage of his brother (Paul Schneider) and sister in law (Emily Mortimer) who fret over his oddness. There is this girl at work Margo ( Kelli Garner) who for some inexplicable reason seems to fancy him.

The arm-chair shrink in me saw that Lars ordered the inflato chick Bianca as a stand-in for Margo whom he secretly fancies but cannot pursue due to his intimacy issues. Lars projects his love on Bianca, treating her like gold and never taking her honour, even though Bianca is anatomically correct and designed to have her honour taken.

Their relationship blossoms and Lars introduces her to the community around him, including a GP who is also a pychologist (Patricia Clarkson). There is something wrong with Bianca, Lars feels, and the doctor provides “treatments.” While Bianca rests, Lars and the doctor talk and the issues are revealed.

We feel the discomfort of the small town coming to grips with this seemingly bizarre relationship, but we also buy into the compassion they gradually show for Lars and his inflato chick.

This is perhaps the one part of the film that didn’t quite add up for me. For some reason, I couldn’t imagine a small-town, slightly redneck, churchy American community embracing a man’s relationship with his inflato chick. But this shortcoming is forgivable as the film does give air to the doubts, expressed convincingly by Lars’ older brother.

We see Lars progress through his issues and in so doing, gradually change his relationship with Bianca. This is sweet and at times uncomfortable, particularly when we see the couple fighting.

I won’t spoil the ending other than to say “there will be tears.”

It is a touching story of love that is sensitively rendered by director Craig Gillespie. I applaud him for not taking cheap route of sleaze that you might expect in a film about a man and his inflato chick.

And you will be comfortable watching this with your 11-year old daughter, well, comfortable if you’re prepared to answer the inevitable questions from the 11-year old about why we need inflato chicks anyway.

Gulp!