Bad Clint Eastwood movies tend to play like parodies of good Clint Eastwood movies, and his latest, a loose dramatization of the Wineville Chicken Murders and the accompanying media blitz and police scandal that rocked Los Angeles in the late 1920s, is almost a bigger muddle than Flags of Our Fathers. Angelina Jolie is Christine Collins, whose nine-year-old son, Walter (Gattlin Griffith), goes missing one day and is returned to her by police some five months later—except they return the wrong boy and Christine, a flapper-type who suggests a Tim Burton corpse bride, will have nothing to do with what appears to be a lunatic police department's perverse effort to correct their piss-poor public image. Throughout the film, a myriad series of dramas and agendas vie for our attention, each painted in strokes as broad as the ones Eastwood applied to Maggie Fitzgerald's family in Million Dollar Baby, so it's a small miracle that Jolie makes even half the impression she does given all of the funereal flotsam and jetsam she must wade through.  Ed Gonzalez