On the other hand, those who recall the British television mini-series on which this is based, with its unsparing dissection of compromised and arrogant news media, are likely to be a bit dismayed. The narrative has been updated and condensed by a trio of talented screenwriters (Tony Gilroy, Matthew Michael Carnahan and Billy Ray), but what has been lost is less length or context than depth. This “State of Play” is both shallower and muddier than its clear-eyed source.

Taking some cues from such recent headline makers as the Chandra Levy case and Blackwater, not to mention its generic ur-text "All the President's Men," "State of Play" plays politicians and journalists against each other in a continually shifting game of back-scratching and back-stabbing. Rep. Stephen Collins (Affleck), the ambitious new hope for his unnamed party, is caught up in a scandal that may or may not have anything to do with a string of murders being investigated by the scruffy, shambling Washington Globe reporter Cal McAffrey (Crowe). Caught in the middle is a plucky young Globe blogger played by Rachel McAdams, who teams with McAffrey to get to the bottom of events that spin more and more improbably out of control. (Even her name has spunk: Della Frye, surely meant to invoke such classic sleuthy heroines as Brenda Starr, Della Street and Lois Lane.)

Crowe -- looking appropriately puffy and sallow -- plays a hard-bitten reporter with a convincing combination of sarcasm and passion. He and McAdams -- who brings just the right combination of shrewdness and doe-eyed naivete to her role as an ambitious newbie -- give their banter an easy, spontaneous ring of truth. ...

As has been reported in these pages, the cast and crew of "State of Play" spent a good deal of time researching the habits and habitat of daily journalists. The result is that Macdonald has not only captured the look and feel of daily journalism -- from the size of the reporters' notebooks to the colorfully random detritus that covers their desks -- but he's also captured the anxious gestalt of the era in which it is being irrevocably transformed.

Signs of technological change are everywhere in "State of Play," which ultimately seems less interested in the intricacies of plot than with the romance of an almost-bygone medium. The Globe has just been sold to a media conglomerate with a lively interest in quarterly profits, and it's in the throes of a redesign process that will look eerily familiar to loyal newsprint readers (yes, both of you). Throughout the movie, tensions between print and online journalism and the Web erupt into little turf fights or larger arguments about ethics. "She's hungry, she's cheap and she churns out copy every hour," Mirren's editor says to McAffrey at one point, reminding him how utterly dispensable his once-mighty pen has become.

The Chicago Sun-Times' Roger Ebert:

An important role in their investigation is played by the Globe's editor, Cameron Lynne (Helen Mirren). The paper's new corporate owners are on her neck to cut costs, redesign the venerable front page, get more scoops and go for the gossip today instead of waiting for the Pulitzer tomorrow. There is, in fact, an eerie valedictory feeling to the film; mother of God, can this be the last newspaper movie? (The answer is no, because no matter what happens to newspapers, the newspaper movie is a durable genre. Shouting "stop the presses!" is ever so much more exciting than shouting "stop the upload!")

It is a reliable truth that you should never ask an expert how a movie deals with his field of knowledge. Archeologists, for example, have raised questions about "The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor." When Cal races out of the office at deadline and shouts over his shoulder, "Tell Cameron to kill the story," it is just possible that she would tear up the front page if the story was so important the paper could not risk being wrong. But when Cal and his sidekick the perky blogger solve the mystery and are back in the office and it is noted "Cameron has been holding the presses four hours!" -- I think her new corporate bosses will want to have a long, sad talk with her, after which she will discover if the company still offers severance packages.

The Globe and Mail's Rick Groen:

The original had some steamy passion, but there's nothing of the sort here — no pants get dropped, nary a bra comes off. What in the good name of gratuitous sex is Hollywood coming to? Has the classic business model shattered?*

* Scott made this observation: The near-total absence of sexual tension between them is perhaps a concession to the mores of the modern workplace ...

Speaking of which, let's give the last word to Mirren's crusty editor who, with the faux drama swirling around her, angrily calls our attention to a genuine drama closer to home: "The real story here is the sinking of this bloody newspaper." Ah, the desperate measures, the human carnage, the false prophets, the shouts and the murmurs and the tweets — now that's a murderous thriller waiting to be made.