The Book of Eli continues Hollywood's obsession with post-apocalyptic tales, and in many ways feels like it belongs in the same world as The Road with its ash-laden wastelands and crazed cannibals roaming about. But the comparisons end there. Where The Road is a thoughtful art film based on a Pulitzer prize-winning novel, Eli is more of a popcorn action flick influenced by the visual style of graphic novels, although it's more thought-provoking and less of an adrenaline rush than the Mad Max movies.

Denzel Washington stars as Eli, a lone traveler wandering America's wastelands presumably devastated by nuclear war 30 years prior. The stark landscape is littered with abandoned cars, crumbling buildings, bombed highways, and the occasional picked-clean body. Water and food are scarce, purchased through trade of whatever you happen to be carrying—wet wipes are humorously and understandably one of the hot commodities.

When a movie feels way, way too long, and it's only 79 minutes, that's definitely not a good sign.

And that, unfortunately, is exactly how it feels when you're watching 9, a fascinating—albeit morose—idea that's lost in a jumble of bad dialogue and thinly developed characters.

Now if graded purely on aesthetics, 9 would certainly earn high marks for its inventive imagery. From the first frame, Tim Burton's distinctive yet creepy stylistic fingerprints are all over the place, even if it's technically not a Tim Burton film (he only served as the movie's producer).

But considering that an animated account of "the end of the world as we know it" was already done so well and winningly in last year's Wall·E, 9 just doesn't add anything new to the perilous conversation. Instead, it's merely a stringing together of disturbing imagery that actually provokes more shifting in your seat than anything resembling actual emotion—probably not the filmmakers' intention, I'm guessing.

Right away, the look is special—and it only gets better. The realistic and beautiful world created by Cameron is a must-see, a definite milestone in movie technology. Perhaps the greatest compliment to give is that the look is so natural and absorbing, you don't think about how it's not real. You think, It'sjust a movie filmed on Pandora. Future filmmakers will look on this movie's advancements a bit like filmmakers now view Star Wars. With 3D scenery that surrounds the viewer, strange creatures visibly breathing, and thrilling fantasy creations like riding dragon-like birds into battle, this is as much an experience as a movie.

This adaptation of a Michael Lewis book (The Blind Side: Evolution of a Game) tells the true story Michael Oher (Quinton Aaron), a gentle hulk of a boy who, through some string-pulling by concerned relatives, gains admission to the same Christian school the Tuohy children attend in Memphis. His IQ of 80 and grade point average of 0.6 present obvious challenges for his teachers and his unwillingness to do any homework is jeopardizing his future at the school.

His one hope, in the eyes of the school, is football—although Oher never has played the game. It's the school's football coach (Ray McKinnon) who, after one look at Oher, makes it his mission to develop Oher into a star athlete.

Oher's other, less self-interested hope is Tuohy, a smartly dressed mother of two who finds Oher, her daughter's classmate at the Christian school, walking the streets in need of a place to stay. She and her husband (Tim McGraw) invite him to sleep in their home, and once there, help to shape him into a well-rounded student with a bright future.

I know there’s a lot things we could add to this list, like needing everyone’s approval, neglecting the role of the Holy Spirit, pretending to act like someone you’re not, siding with teens against their parents, etc. But there’s one problem that often goes overlooked that will undeniably create very unhealthy relationships with students possibly worse than anything else, and that’s this:

Every adult youth leader needs healthy adult relationships, or their relationships with students will quickly become very unhealthy.

Unfortunately, I’ve seen this story play out too many times. An adult youth leader may not connect well with other adults for any number of reasons: their maturity level isn’t up to par; they felt rejected in high school and now try to find that security in youth group teens; they think being an adult is “uncool”; they look to teens for self-worth; and a host of many other reasons that are related to emotional baggage. The end result is they become a peer for students, not a leader. And students don’t need more peers.