Ground control to Major Depp

"The Astronaut's Wife" has a preposterous plot, governed by a logic of paranoia and carried out in a world so typical that not even its banality can overwhelm. In other words, itıs decent trash sci-fi.

Johnny Depp plays astronaut Spencer Armacost as a modern version of Neil Armstrong. Depp raids our cultural memories, especially "The Right Stuff," and returns with a southwestern twang to his voice, black aviator glasses, a stick of Wrigley's popping in his jaw, and, above all, the steel-eyed gaze of an all-American hero.



'Feel' offers funny, destructive advice

Janeane Garofalo and Ben Stiller are two of comedy's most famous emotional basket-cases. When approached by Ballantine Books to collaborate, they made an ironic decision: to write a self-help book.

The result, "Feel This Book," is a hysterical stab at a faux-spiritual guide that actually exposes the authors' insecurities more than it gives worthwhile advice. In fact, some of Stiller's and especially Garofalo's kernels of wisdom are downright dangerous. For example, Garofalo urges readers to "grasp onto blame and don't let go," and tells them that "the best you probably isn't good enough, so let's just go with the best version we can create."



Santana teams up

For Santana fans who pick up the long awaited release, "Supernatural," they are in for a sweet and sour surprise. Santana, who has not released an album in close to 20 years, employs the help of eight other artists to guide him in reaching a new, young audience that knows him best for his greatest hits album and the Mexican influence that he moved into mainstream classic rock. This teaming of artists works for the most part, but nonetheless fumbles as Santana fails to recognize at times which musicians would best compliment his style and not merely market it.

The album's acclaimed single with Dave Matthews, "Love of My Life," is excellent; each artist blends well together and integrates their particular trademark melody to produce a love song that is memorable and distinct.



Superchunk grows up

Superchunk's relatively consistent output over their decade-long career has led some casual fans to believe that the band's albums are basically interchangeable. To some extent, they are; every Superchunk disc is crammed with thunderous bass lines, hyperactive two-guitar freakouts and Mac McCaughan's endearing puppy dog-on-speed vocals. Their recent "Come Pick Me Up" is no exception.

Fortunately, however, McCaughan and company are much more progressive today than they were five years ago; all of the songs here are easily recognizable as Superchunk, but none of them are recognizable as Superchunk circa 1992. Comparisons to bands like Husker Du and early Archers of Loaf donıt hold as much water as they used to: although "Come Pick Me Up" certainly qualifies as a loud rock record, its intricacies are often as worthwhile as its shout-along choruses.



Ghosts appear in 'Sense'

If you were told Bruce Willis made a movie without explosions, guns and gore, would you believe it? Better yet, what if the rumor was that the movie was even thought-provoking? Perhaps it might sound more believable that pigs fly. Yet after watching, "The Sixth Sense," it appears pigs can fly and Bruce Willis can actually make an intellectually stimulating movie. Willis stars as Dr. Malcolm Crowe, a top child psychiatrist.

After an angry patient commits suicide, blaming his shrink, Willis becomes determined to redeem himself after failure. The suicidal patient is played by a New Kids On The Block alum, Donnie Whalberg, who appears only in one scene wearing the Whalberg family trademark: tighty whities.



Puff Daddy notoriously S.T.I.N.K.

When "No Way Out" was released in 1997, the entertainer known as Sean "Puffy" Combs was at the apex of his musical and professional career. He was a pop and hip-hop mogul, and his album was selling faster than it could be stocked on shelves. All the while Puffy, the late Notorious B.I.G. and Mase were monopolizing Americaıs radio waves.

However, that was 1997. A new facet of Bad Boy records has evolved; one Puffy would rather not be forced to witness. "No Way Out" has thankfully been forgotten, Biggie has been dead nearly three years and Bad Boyıs pathetic second-generation rapper Mase has impulsively decided to pursue a life as a Christian Minister.



New Releases