Marketing is everywhere, surrounding us daily with a sensorial assault that’s slowly become white noise. The public’s ability to tune it all out has stymied advertisers, requiring more subtle means to push their brands to consumers. It’s an elaborate game of buying and selling, with the average human powerless to stop the madness. Documentarian Morgan Spurlock? Well, he wants to contribute to the invasion in the name of satire. Or whatever Spurlock calls his toothless brand of filmmaking these days.

“Jolene” is chunk of old-fashioned American storytelling, adapted from a short story by E.L. Doctorow. Crossing the country detailing the swelling woe of a redhead and her failure to find uncontaminated love in the world, the film attempts to spread the feeling of a life lived across a widescreen environment, working out the complex mechanics of a tragedy in two hours, deploying a supporting cast of familiar faces to help make the violations stick. Cruelly, the display of sorrow never takes command, with most of the film an unsatisfactory soap opera that never seizes an illuminating essence.

As a swinging, small-time musical composer in the early 1920s, Cole Porter (Kevin Kline) ruled the Parisian nightlife with his witty combination of songs, bubbly charisma, and sex appeal. Cole soon meets his match in Linda (Ashley Judd), a divorcee who finds Cole’s songwriting gifts intoxicating, falling in love with the composer even with prior knowledge of his homosexual desires. Linda gives Cole confidence to reach for the big time, creating legendary Broadway shows (“Kiss Me Kate,” “Anything Goes”) and finding riches in Hollywood. However, their relationship is severely tested when Cole’s preference for men clouds his connection to Linda, threatening to disrupt his amazing talents for writing music.

There’s not a drop of originality to “Knockout,” which largely plays out like a photocopy of “The Karate Kid” set in the high school boxing realm. The picture lacks a great deal of innovation, but it retains an impressive reservoir of charisma to help squeak it through the rough patches, making for an atypically pleasant picture from star Steve Austin, who takes a slightly less knuckle-sandwich position of caring in this underdog sports drama.

I’ll give the Korean production “Chawz” this much: it definitely aims to please. An overlong, underfunny horror picture about a rampaging mutant boar, the picture has difficulty translating frantic fits of performance and slapstick into a crisply executed feature film, wasting a delicious premise on two protracted hours of stillborn silly business, tickling a screen concept that needs to play as lean and mean as possible.