In theaters

SPY GAME. Directed by Tony Scott. Written by Michael Frost Beckner and David Arata. 115 minutes. Rated R.

The new Tony Scott film, “Spy Game,” spans 16 years, from 1975 to 1991, although you’d never know it judging by the faces of its stars, Robert Redford and Brad Pitt, who don’t age a day as the film ricochets among the decades.

In the film, Redford is Nathan Muir, a weathered CIA agent whose retirement from the agency is interrupted when his protege, Tom Bishop (Pitt), botches a risky attempt to free a political prisoner (Catherine McCormick) from a heavily guarded prison in Hong Kong.

Now facing certain execution in 24 hours (these sorts of movies are always trying to beat the clock), Tom’s only hope is Nathan, who must outmaneuver several high-level CIA operatives determined to sacrifice Bishop so they can protect a pending trade agreement the U.S. is entering into with China.

Instead of focusing solely on this story, which gets off to a rousing start and hints at what might have become of Redford’s character in 1975’s “Three Days of the Condor,” “Spy Game” splits into shards of vignettes.

For the next 90 minutes, it reaches into the past to play a game of global pingpong, bouncing between the United States, Vietnam, East Berlin, West Berlin, China and Beirut in a series of extended flashbacks and flash forwards designed to underscore the importance of Muir’s and Bishop’s relationship.

What’s created is a sort of reverse momentum, and while parts of the movie are lively and a few scenes are chilling, particularly a terrorist bombing that blows apart a Beirut high-rise, too much of the film is bogged down with reams of exposition – most of which keep it from going anywhere.

The film, from a script by Michael Frost Beckner and David Arata, is unnecessarily chatty, but unlike David Mamet’s “Heist” or this year’s superior post-Cold War thriller “The Tailor of Panama,” the dialogue never pops off the screen to become an enjoyment in and of itself. Both “Heist” and “Panama” were dark, ironic satires, but “Spy Games” takes itself so seriously, any looseness it could have had is hidden within the deep recesses of Redford’s craggy face.

The workmanlike script goes through the motions of the complex plot, offering a rousing scene here and there, but it ultimately makes it too easy for the ever-cool Muir to outsmart his colleagues, a well-dressed band of morons who have no place making decisions about the state of the United States.

Grade: C

On Video and DVD

HOW THE GRINCH STOLE CHRISTMAS. Directed by Ron Howard. Written by Jeffrey Price and Peter S. Seaman. Based on the book by Dr. Seuss. 102 minutes. Rated PG.

Hiss! Boo! Boo Who!

Ron Howard’s $120 million production of Dr. Seuss’ “How the Grinch Stole Christmas” may appeal to youngsters who haven’t read the 1957 book or seen the equally great 1966 Chuck Jones cartoon, but adults who grew up on each should be appalled.

This big-budget bore misses what made Seuss’ fable a classic -the lyricism of its language, the richness of its story and the enormous green heart it eventually wears on its sleeve.

Mr. Howard is a mean one. Along with his screenwriters, Jeffrey Price and Peter S. Seaman, he’s cheapened Seuss’ tale and turned it into a garish spectacle of back-lot special effects crudely stapled to Jim Carrey’s unceasingly unfunny, over-the-top mugging as the Grinch.

Desperate to stretch Seuss’ story into a full-length feature film,

they’ve departed from the text and the ideas that inspired it. In Howard’s world, the Whos aren’t the gentle people Seuss imagined but a piggish band of louts driven by greed and commercialism who are no better than the Grinch.

Cindy Lou Who (Taylor Momsen) is the exception, but since the film turns only to her to provide the balance of good vs. evil (in the book, it was the townspeople vs. the Grinch), that balance is shot.

Momsen is cute, but Carrey’s nonstop shenanigans overwhelm her. His performance isn’t acting, per se, but pandering reduced to a series of sight gags, some of which are so raunchy, adult members of the audience might find themselves wondering what happened to the Grinch they grew up with.

“How the Grinch Stole Christmas” is about as warm and as lyrical as a cold lump of Who Hash. In a weak attempt to inject the original tale into his film, Howard does feature Anthony Hopkins narrating brief passages of the text, but Seuss’ words – when juxtaposed against this story, these images, these characters and this Grinch -simply don’t mix.

Grade: D+

Christopher Smith is the Bangor Daily News film critic. His reviews appear Mondays and Fridays in Style, Tuesdays on “NEWS CENTER at 5” and Thursdays on “NEWS CENTER at 5:30” on WLBZ-2 and WCSH-6. He can be reached at BDNFilm1@aol.com.