The box-office reports are in, and “Watchmen” has won the weekend — though with a three-day gross of just $55.7 million, industry reports are pointing out that we’re not looking at another blockbuster on the scale of “The Dark Knight”.

I’m not entirely surprised. An R-rated, 160-minute adaptation of a property few outside the comics world will recognize was never going to compete with Batman, or even pull in Spider-Man-scale numbers. You need to go beyond the core fans for something like that. Same thing happened to the first “Hellboy”, and that was a good 50 minutes shorter.

Still, this is a solid opening, and there’s more cash to come with the international run, and after that there’s the home-video bonanza, what with all the different cuts Warner is planning to release.

And then, of course, there’s the inevitable Saturday morning spinoff.

No, not really. But it’s awesome, isn’t it?

With “One Week” and “Pontypool” turning the lens of Canadian film back on Canada itself — the first being a travelogue of national landmarks, and the second being a more practical consideration of our nation as a wintry hellscape filled with cannibalistic maniacs — it seemed like a good time to do a Sympatico/MSN movie gallery about all the clumsy attempts to repurpose Canadian locations as American cities.

I’m sure you’ll come up with other examples, but I could only fit eight into the piece — and I didn’t want to keep it too Toronto-centric, so I had to leave out such gems as Norman Jewison’s “The Hurricane”.

Remember that one? With Dan Hedaya’s (non-existent) American cop threatening John Hannah and Deborah Kara Unger right in front of a Toronto Star box? Yeah, maybe it’s best that you don’t.

And here it is Friday again, with movies aplenty opening. Let’s dive right in, kids:

“Fear(s) of the Dark“: Wanna get creeped out by shadows and subtitles? This is the anthology for you. And though it’s really uneven, the segments that work are going to be so much more effective in a dark, squeaky theater than it’ll ever be in your living room.

“Nightwatching“: In which Peter Greenaway continues his excavation of his own navel, this time dragging Martin Freeman along with him. I will continue to see everything and anything Greenaway does, based on the brilliance and audacity of the work he did two decades ago … but I’m also aware that it’s been a losing proposition for the last fifteen years.

“One Week”: Joshua Jackson, diagnosed with terminal cancer, takes a trip across Canada to look at our prized landmarks. It’s named for a Barenaked Ladies song; it’s got a Gord Downie cameo. Michael McGowan’s follow-up to “Saint Ralph” practically bleeds maple. Susan liked it, though I suspect the phrase “big commercial potential” is wishful thinking. Jason is a little more realistic.

“Owl and the Sparrow”: Stephane Gauger’s teeny little drama about a Vietnamese runaway in Ho Chi Minh City is opening today without fanfare or even a press release, as far as I know. But Glenn saw it, so we’re covered.

“Pontypool“: Zombies! Not really! But if we call them zombies — if we actually, collectively, use the word — then they are, properly, zombies, right? You don’t have to use the zed-word to appreciate the semotic genius of Bruce McDonald’s horror exercise … but even if you do, it won’t help. The contaminated will still get you.

“Watchmen“: Zack Snyder uses his “300” juice to bring Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons’ quintessential graphic novel to the screen, more or less as its creators imagined it on the page. Reviews have been mixed — A.O. Scott was particularly down on it in the Times yesterday — but I think it’s a pretty successful translation. Even if they did leave out the calamari.

I kinda miss the calamari.

Remember those deadlines I’ve mentioned over the last couple of weeks? Check out the new issue of NOW!

First, there’s a cover story on “Watchmen” and an attendant article about comic-to-movie adaptations; check ’em out, they’re fun.

Oh, but that’s not it. I’ve also got an interview with Bruce McDonald, whose “Pontypool” opens tomorrow and is quite a piece of work.

Get to reading — and while you’re on the site, don’t miss Paul Terefenko’s status report on the state of the “Scott Pilgrim” movie, being prepped right now by a certain British director …

Was anyone else a little unsettled at the transformation this year of Kate Winslet from unpretentious, well-adjusted actor person to obsessive awards winner?

It’s like she’s been replaced by one of those shapeshifting Terminators; it looks like her, it sounds like her, but if you catch it from the wrong angle, all you see is the mission. And while it’s really good at mimicking the appearance of a person, it can’t do squat about the inner workings, which is why “Winslet” could go up to the podium at the Golden Globes a second time, with a second speech in her hand, and claim to be surprised and unprepared without acknowledging how odd that claim must seem.

Anyway, it’s just something I was thinking about after reading Scott Tobias’ essay on “Heavenly Creatures” over at the AV Club, where Peter Jackson’s splendid and harrowing drama has just been inducted into the site’s New Cult Canon series. The Winslet of that movie in no way resembles the Winslet of today. Hell, she barely resembles the Winslet who so brilliantly spoofed the Hollywood awards mechanism in that “Extras” clip.

Has anyone else noticed the change? I mean, I don’t expect Sam Mendes to catch on — he’s all about surfaces — but surely her kids must have suspicions.

Christian Bale might want to keep his distance these days, is all I’m saying.

Everybody’s fighting these days. “Street Fighter: The Legend of Chun-Li” opened on Friday with virtually no promotion — I mean, I haven’t even seen a TV spot for it yet, and I watch a lot of television — and tonight at the Bloor, Edgar Wright is screening “Shaolin Soccer” and “The Story of Ricky”.

So in honor of all the aggro, this week’s Sympatico/MSN gallery is dedicated to imaginary match-ups between existing action characters. John McClane vs. John Rambo, Selene from “Underworld” vs. Aeon Flux, Snake Plissken vs. Gabe Cash … you get the idea.

Sometimes it’s fun to be silly. Actually, it’s almost always fun to be silly. Feel free to snipe at my choices in the comments, but remember, the decision of the judges is final.

February is going out like a frozen lion here — the temperature this morning was -16, with a “feels like” factor of -26 — but I’m still braving the cold to trudge out to the Bloor Cinema for that Edgar Wright double-bill of “Shaun of the Dead” and “Hot Fuzz” I’ve been pimping all week.

And why not? Sure, I’ve got the HD DVDs of both films sitting downstairs, wondering why I never take them out to play, but how often do you get to see two of your favorite movies with an audience that loves them as much as you do?

I talked to Wright yesterday about the screening, and about his related Wright Stuff program, which will be running at the Bloor Sundays through April 12th; turns out he does this for the exact same reason.

Wait, that came out wrong. He doesn’t program screenings of his own films so he can see how much people love his movies — he programs screenings of other people’s cult films so he can experience them with an audience, rather than just watching them on HD DVD in his basement. Or, you know, whatever medium is to hand. (Hell, I still have “The Wanderers” on laserdisc.)

Anyway. See you at the Bloor. Brave the cold, it’ll be worth it.

This is one of those weeks where, despite a great deal of running around and watching of movies, I have almost nothing to show for it. It seems like everything I’ve done is for something down the line — screening films that won’t open for weeks, writing stories for upcoming issues of things, and so forth. And so it is that I am covering not a single title in this week’s crop of releases.

However, films are opening, and these are they:

“C’est Pas Moi, Je Le Jure!”: Rad‘s been talking up Philippe Falardeau’s latest film for months now, and he gets to sing its praises all over again in this week’s paper. He’s not the only one, either; Jason likes it, too.

“Jonas Brothers: The 3D Concert Experience”: THEY ARE TEH AWESOME THEY SING AND DANCE AND THEY’RE RIGHT IN YOUR LAP AND I WANT TO MARRY ALL OF THEM THIS IS THE BEST MOVIE EVER OMG OMG OMG … yes, it’s the film that launched a million Twitter posts.

“Lost Song”: Rodrigue Jean’s prize-winning TIFF entry — awarded a spot on Canada’s Top Ten back in December, along with “C’est Pas Moi” — makes up the other half of Rad’s look at Canadian’s films in this week’s paper; here’s his review, and his interview with Jean.

“Street Fighter: The Legend of Chun-Li”: It’s been fifteen years since Jean-Claude Van Damme and Raul Julia squared off in Steven E. DeSouza’s “Street Fighter” movie … long enough for a reboot, in Hollywood terms. This one was directed by former cinematographer Andrzej Bartkowiak and stars the extremely photographable Kristin Kreuk and “Mortal Kombat” regular Robin Shou, which means that I am kind of looking forward to the Blu-ray disc.

More to do today. Sorry. It’ll all come together next week, I promise.

I’m staring down an unexpected mess of deadlinery today, and I don’t have much in the new issue of NOW, so this will be a very short post.

Stuff I did write: A look at the World of Comedy Film Festival, which runs tomorrow through Sunday and did not exactly dazzle me this year, and a heads-up for a double-bill of my beloved “Shaun of the Dead” and “Hot Fuzz” Saturday night at the Bloor Cinema, hosted by their director, Edgar Wright.

I hope to have more to say about Wright tomorrow. That, in fact, is one of my deadlines.

Hang in there …