In theaters

ONE HOUR PHOTO, written and directed by Mark Romanek, 98 minutes, Rated R.

Over the past year, Robin Williams has enjoyed the sort of career turnaround that doesn’t happen often in Hollywood, but when it does, it can be a thing to behold.

With terrific performances in “Death to Smoochy” and “Insomnia,” and now in Mark Romanek’s “One Hour Photo,” Williams has managed to escape the unbearably phony dreck of his four previous films – “What Dreams May Come,” “Patch Adams,” “Jakob the Liar” and “Bicentennial Man” – by tapping into his dark side, a far more interesting place that’s broadened his appeal and allowed him that rare second chance in movies.

In “Photo,” Williams is Sy Parrish, a lonely, troubled man whose name suggests exhaustion with life and someone near death.

Fortunately, Sy’s name is the film’s only overt contrivance. Otherwise, what Romanek has crafted is a careful character study of a complex man, a photo technician at a giant retailer reminiscent of Wal-Mart who has no one in his life other than his co-workers, who shun him, and his customers, most of whom treat him with the polite respect he craves.

And why shouldn’t they? Sy is always pleased to see them, always concerned for their welfare, always conscientious about his job. He’s so good at concealing his desperation and misery, in fact, that you’d never expect he was anything more than the happy, beaming face on the opposite side of the photo counter, the man in the crisp blue apron who genuinely just wants to help.

A bit too much, it seems.

Indeed, for the Yorkins, an attractive, seemingly perfect family Sy has watched grow over the years through their scores of family photos, there doesn’t seem to be a limit to what he would do for them, particularly for Nina (Connie Nielsen) and her young son, Jake (Dylan Smith), who have formed something of a relationship with Sy.

“Just call me Uncle Sy,” Sy says to Jake at one point, and the horror of the scene comes not from the uncomfortable silence that stretches between them, but from how much Sy himself believes he’s part of this family. Thus, for Sy, it’s like a left hook to the jaw when he learns that Nina’s husband, Will (Michael Vartan), is having an affair with another woman – and thus casually throwing away all that Sy wishes he himself had.

The ensuing madness ignites the film’s chilling undertone and punches it into a full-blown thriller, with Sy stealing a hunting knife and taking matters into his own hands. What follows is a series of jolts and surprises nicely handled by Romanek, who’s just as interested in the psychology behind taking family photos, and especially by Williams, who creates a character who earns our revulsion – and somehow also our sympathy.

Grade: A-

On video and DVD

DEATH TO SMOOCHY, directed by Danny DeVito, written by Adam Resnick, 109 minutes, Rated R.

Danny DeVito’s “Death to Smoochy” isn’t for the eternal optimist, those seeking the lighter side of life or for fans of children’s television programming. It’s not for the easily pleased, those with a quick smile for the inane, or for anyone who prefers anything sunny side up.

That said, it probably will delight fans of Edward Gorey and Gary Larson.

The film, from a script by Adam Resnick, is about the ugly fall from grace of Rainbow Randolph (Robin Williams), the cheerfully manic yet privately cruel star of a popular children’s television show.

After being fired for taking bribes from parents eager to see their little Johnny on his show, Rainbow is replaced by Smoochy the Rhino (Edward Norton), a goody-goody, folk-singing vegetarian who’s so sickeningly sweet, he can sing “My Stepdad’s Not Mean – He’s Just Adjusting” without a trace of irony.

Smoochy is one of those rare television types who actually wants to use his fame to make the world a better place. But since he’s dealing in the cut-throat world of kiddie television, that proves impossible without first agreeing to market some sugary cereal and plastic toys to his target audience of bug-eyed toddlers – while, in the process, also scoring death threats from the increasingly insane and rabidly jealous Rainbow Randolph.

With DeVito on board as Smoochy’s duplicitous manager and Catherine Keener perfectly insensitive as Smoochy’s bitchy producer, “Death to Smoochy” has a terrific supporting cast and enough clever, lively writing to make its Barney bashing seem not pass?, but just as relevant today as it was when Barney first collapsed in a purple puddle several years ago – and took the Teletubbies with him.

Grade: B+

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.