Movie Review Archieves

It’s Complicated (2009)
Director / Writer / Producer: Nancy Meyers
Cast: Meryl Streep, Alec Baldwin, Steve Martin, John Krasinski, Lake Bell, Caitlin Fitzgerald, Zoe Kazan, Hunter Parrish
Rated:
Time: I have to admit, ”It’s Complicated” was better than I expected. It probed the situations and feelings of a divorced woman who is in contact and “on good terms” with her ex-husband. They meet at parties to celebrate more fortunate couples’ anniversaries, they both go to their son's graduation and even though the ex is at fault, having left his wife for a younger woman, he will surely walk his daughters down the aisle when the time comes.How one deals with constant meetings with an ex may already be answered by the time the film begins, but how to interpret one’s true feelings during an affair with one’s ex is the quandary here. Jane (Meryl Streep) has a moment of weakness while drunk and partying with her husband, and lands up in his meaty arms again. Jake (Alec Baldwin) couldn’t be happier, having found his young, beautiful wife (Lake Bell) too demanding and unsympathetic. Jane was truly a Martha Stewart wife, with only the ambition to run a bakery/restaurant, not rule the world. Jake may have taken the nurturing, great cooking and lovely table settings for granted during his marriage, but sorely misses them now.

Jane, being very intelligent and aware, wants to really probe her motivations for this passionate rekindling. She even talks with her therapist about it, if we didn’t figure out all the alternative

Meryl Streep, Alec Baldwin: that what-have-I-done? moment.theories ourselves. Rather than let her emotions lead her, she careful thinks out why she does what she does and relies on sanity, wisdom and common sense when making her decisions. I love her mindfulness, while still enjoying life and having a good time. I love writer/director Nancy Meyers’ perspective of how a woman feels about her own body at Jane’s age. It was sad to see Jane constantly hiding her body from her ex, even though they had felt every inch of each others’, because since their divorce 10 years earlier, it had aged 10 years. I love his response when she finally unveils herself. I connected with all her decisions throughout the film, even where it concerned her children, and I don’t even have children or an ex. It really takes great writing skill and human understanding by the writer for an audience without shared experience to empathize and agree with these characters.

But I couldn’t understand why Jane wasn’t incredibly fat since she eats so much of her own bakery goods during the film. I was also distracted by the constantly bobbing boom mic on the top of the screen. Once, maybe, but so many times that I kept watching the sky or ceiling in most shots for its next appearance. I heard several groans from the audience to welcome these appearances.

The Missing Person (2009)
Director / Writer: Noah Buschel
Cast: Michael Shannon, Amy Ryan, Frank Wood, Linda Emond, Paul Sparks, Margaret Colin, John Ventimiglia, Yul Vazquez, Merritt Wever
Time: 95 min.

In the first 5 minutes, I felt “The Missing Person” proved the film noir genre was a unique thing of the past that should not be disturbed. The genre was famous for its lighting (making the Venetian blind a mainstay of cinematographers and gaffers forclose to 15 years). The opening of

The Missing Person” is just dark, without subtlety, gradation, mood or artistry. There isn’t even a neon light outside a flophouse room interrupting the dull blackness. Sure, it’s got a loud, high speed subway mere feet away from the window, but is that enough?

A guy wakes up to a phone call. His typical gumshoe voice, drenched in old martinis and bad dreams, jaded and fatigued, accepts a job entailing following a man on a train from Chicago to L.A. $500 a day plus expenses can’t be turned down in his economic state. But even his voice is too flat, too monotone to involve an audience. This actor is trying to hard to play a stereptypical private eye, and in the process, falls far short of the greats: Humphry Bogart with his wry intonations, Robert Mitchem with his undertone of anger and sexuality, Robert Ryan with his seething madness just under the surface.

But I stay and watch, not expecting the film to go anywhere. I’m already disappointed. We ride on the train with the PI, followed man and his young boy companion. We are stunned by Southern California’s over-exposed sun and tall palm trees. We start meeting more characters and, to our surprise, start getting involved. All the plot turns are there. It’s not so much that this film takes us to new places as that we enjoy ticking off the list of elements necessary for a noir movie to contain. “The Missing Man” is more a low budget tribute to a past art form than an original take on an historic genre. I’m glad I stayed till the end.

Alvin and the Chipmunks: The Squeakquel (2009)
Director: Betty Thomas
Writer: Jon Vitti, Jonathan Aibel, Glen Berger
Cast: Alvin, Simon, Theodore, Zachary Levi, Jason Lee, David Cross, Wendie Malick
Producers: Janice Karman, Ross Bagdasarian, Jr.
Rated: PG
Time: 88 min.

The 3 rock stars go to high school to win a music contest
to keep the music program alive.

“Alvin and the Chipmunks: the Squeakwell,” is all you’d expect it to be. The plot is safe and time worn, but the kids probably haven’t seen it yet – if they’re very young. The characters are sweet and amicable, with one blatant villain easy for kids to undestand and boo at. The animation is very lifelike and the whole audience will soon forget that the creatures are not real, and will happily suspend disbelief. But most of all, the music is hot. It was obviously intended for an older audience, so parents bringing their children will have a good time despite the over-acting and lack of surprises. It’s their music –- some of the most rockin’ hits from the 70's and 80's are brought back with the distinctive Chipmunks treatment. As soon as I got home, I whipped out my Chipmunk Punk album and reminisced to the beat of “My Sherona.” Yes, I have a Chipmunk album and am proud of it. This is not children’s music, though they can enjoy it as much as we adults do.

The Private Lives of Pippa Lee (2009)
Director, writer (novel and screenplay): Rebecca Miller
Producer: Brad Pitt, Lemore Syvan
Cast: Robin Wright Penn, Alan Arkin, Winona Ryder, Keanu Reeves, Shirley Knight, Julieanne Moore, Monica Bellucci, Madaline McNulty, Blake Lively, Mike Binder, Ryan McDonald, Zoe Kazan
Rated: R
Time: 98 min. One nice thing about actresses getting divorced is they come back to work. We’ve been seeing a lot more of Robin Wright since she and Sean Penn initiated divorce proceedings. Call me selfish; I couldn’t be happier.

I think the script for “... Pippa Lee” was intentionally written poorly in places, riddled with the worst cliches and banal dialogue just so Wright could deal with bringing veracity to these over used and tired lines. And she did gloriously. I was amazed how she could deliver a sentence like, “I can’t take it anymore,” and we believe her, wholly empathize with her. Other parts of the script were very witty and humorous in a dry, off-handed way. Another notable performance was by Winona Ryder (Edward Scissorhands”) as a neurotic, unstable, and guilt ridden friend. Pippa herself, played by Robin Wright Penn, is not such an extraordinary character; she is actually like a lot of us. Pippa’s life starts with an extremely dysfunctional family colored by Pippa’s mother (Maria Bello - “History of Violence”) who’s mood shifts, caused by prescription drugs, make Pippa’s life unbearable. By the way, Bello did an incredible job of relating completely random emotions. No, “What’s my motivation?” in this part. She just did it and wrenched our hearts in the process. Onward to Pippa’s teen years of sex, drugs and beach parties. The next phase of her life tells the story of how she falls in love and marries an older man (Alan Arkin - “Little Miss Sunshine”) and becomes the perfect wife.

We all may not realize it, but upon reflection, each of our lives also has sections so disparate in environment, lifestyle and attitude, they could be separate books or films. What makes Pippa’s life unique is that she decides what kind of person she would like to be and works at it, sometimes for years, to achieve the desired effect. Yet, she is not a false or duplicitous person. She is just taking control of her life and making of it what she wants. You have to admire her for that and for choosing to be kind, giving, and in the process, respected and loved. If we all made such conscious decisions as to the life we lead, there would be a lot less regret in the world. There is much to learn from Pippa.

Me and Orson Wells (2008)
Director: Richard Linklater
Writer: Robert Kaplow (novel), Holly Gent Palmo and Vince Palmo (screenplay)
Cast: Zac Efron, Christian McKay, Claire Danes, Ben Chaplin, Zoe Kazan, Eddie Marsan, Kelly Reilly, James Tupper, Leo Bill, Al Weaver, Simon Lee Phillips, Simon Nehan
Rated: PG-13
Time: 113 min.

Wonder what it was like being in the presence of or working with Orson Welles? Do you even know who Orson Welles is? “Me and Orson Welles” is a unique opportunity to get up close to one of the most iconic, unabashedly outspoken, creative and original film and theater artists America has possibly yet produced. Back in 1937, in the depths of the Depression, before his Halloween radio production of “War of the Worlds” that threw the East Coast of the United States into a panic, before “Citizen Kane,” which at the same time brought Welles to international fame and almost doomed his budding career, Wells directed and starred in Shakespeare’s “Julius Caesar”. In this story, which is mostly true, a young boy recounts playing a small part in the play and being introduced to the “theater”, theater people, and Orson Welles.

It is easy to suspend one’s disbelief because the actor playing Welles is making his first appearance in a feature film, and though he doesn’t think so, he is a dead ringer for the young Welles. Not only does Christian McKaylook eerily similar to Welles, but he brought his basso voice down a few notches and even got the reverb right. And the overpowering character of Welles is recreated perfectly. I really felt in the presence of Welles. Director Richard Linklater even admits he would have chucked the whole project, after buying the rights to Robert Kaplow’s novel, investing most of his own money and finding investors for the balance of the project, securing all other cast and crew, if he had not found McKay in a production of “Rosebud,” of all plays, in a 50 seat theater on off Broadway. Not only lucky for Linklater and lucky for McKay because his career has taken one giant forward step, but also for the audience, either those who come to see the adorable Zac Efron (High School Musical) or those who admired Welles and want to bask in the genius’ light once again.

It would be enough to just spend a little short of 2 hours in his simulated proximity, but the film is also engaging and entertaining. Though shot in a small theater on the Isle of Man (that’s between England and Ireland, if you didn’t know) and London studios, the theater is very close to the same size and look as the original Comedy Theatre on 41st Street and Broadway. The cast of characters are as engaging and eccentric as those of an Agatha Christie mystery set in an island mansion. Better yet, all the characters were real members of Welles’ ensemble: Joseph Cotton. George Courlouris, John Houseman, and the rest of the Mercury Players. And controlling, manipulating and inspiring them all – Orson Welles.

Serious Moonlight (2009)
Director: Cheryl Hines
Writer: Adrienne Shelly
Cast: Meg Ryan, Tim Hutton, Kristen Bell, Justin Long
Rated: R
Time: 84 min.

My credo has always been that if a man says he doesn’t love me, I don’t argue with him, I don’t plead with him, I don’t try in any way to change his mind. “So long and amen.” I don’t believe you can change people’s feelings; maybe their actions (by force or agreement), but not their feelings. And I don’t want a man who doesn’t want me. It’s not just pride or dignity or self-respect. Well, it may be, but logically, there ain’t nothin’ you can do about how other people feel about you.

Leslie (Meg Ryan), when told by her husband, Ian (Tim Hutton), that he doesn’t love her anymore, won’t let him go, figuratively and literally. She insists she will convince him he still loves her as he did in the past. She will change whatever made him believe he doesn’t love her anymore, whatever is wrong with their marriage. He even tells her he is now in love with another woman, but she is undeterred in her dogged and relentless pursuit of his once vital love.

Okay, I’m not with this woman. Not only do I think the guy’s a jerk and doesn’t deserve a real grown up woman as opposed to the typical much younger, idealistic, naïve woman/child he will run away with (Kristen Bell), but I can’t stand Meg’s desperation. In her various attempts to reconcile, her behavior is so extreme, I start seeing visions of Kathy Bates in “Misery” (1990), forcing her captive, James Caan, to love her. I am reminded of Michael Madsen singing and dancing in front of thecaptive cop in “Reservoir Dogs” (1992), wielding a straight razor and suddenly cutting off the cop’s ear without missing a beat of his musical routine. I figured this film was going to turn very, very dark and there would be blood. But Meg plays it for the laughs, though it really is not funny. She plays a border line sociopath, but the audience is supposed to think she’s cute when she hugs her tape-bound husband and shows him slides from their wedding. I am spooked and know that it could not have been the intention of screenwriter Adrienne Shelly (“Waitress” 2007) to spook. “Waitress” was quirky, but followed a particular philosophy throughout that made sense. And please give a moment of silence for the horrendous murder of Ms. Shelly in 2006, shortly before the opening of her break out film. Was it Cheryl Hines’ miscalculation as first time feature director, having been in many comedies previously (TV’s “Curb Your Enthusiasm”)? I hate to cast blame, but there you go.So I end up in limbo with a bunch of characters I don’t like in a situation I can’t relate to. Make it a suspenseful drama or play it like a typical Hollywood romance, much like the new Hugh Grant, Sarah Jessica Parker reconciliation film, “Did You Hear About The Morgans?” (2009), or really go for blood and get Meg earning her big bucks as an actress, not just a cute Hollywood darling.

I can’t give away too much more of this mish mash, except I did find the last third of the film really interesting and surprising. I still won’t give it a reprieve since I find the basic premise and execution very faulty. And I did enjoy Meg’s explanation of why she doesn’t want to be a divorced woman. So true.

Fantastic Mr. Fox (2009)
Director: Wes Anderson
Writer: Roald Dahl (novel), Wes Anderson and Noah Bomback (screenplay)
Cast: George Clooney, Meryl Streep, Jason Schwartzman, Bill Murray, Michael Gambon, Wallace Wolodarsky, Eric Anderson, Willem Dafoe, Owen Wilson
Rated: PG
Time: 87min.

A tiger can't change his stripes, an elephant never forgets, birds got to fly and fish got to swim. So, foxes must thieve -- stealing chickens, partridges, as well as smoked hams and apple cider, and many items still nailed to the floor. Try as he may to fulfill his promise to his wife never to steal again, Mr. Fox just can't resist. The plan, the execution, the danger, the fine repasts are all too much temptation, at least for a fox with a fox's nature. The repercussions to his family, his animal community and the whole environment wreak havoc on this pristine environment.

I didn't think I'd enjoy "Fantastic Mr. Fox," but I thoroughly did. I expected the plot to be thin and tired. I expected the 1960's type stop motion animation to bore me within minutes. After all, I've seen "Up," the best of 3D animation -- and I'm still mesmerized by the flow of the balloons wafting over the house. I tried to figure it out afterwards -- why did I like this film so much? Maybe George Clooney's rather matter-of-fact delivery, a perfect blending of over-self-confidence and Ocean's coolness. The animation was a 21st Century improvement of a 60's format and added subtle color and action. The dialogue and jokes, though directed at grown ups, were still get-able to the children in the audience. Maybe it was just the indescribable heart without schmaltz or sentimentality.

I spent too much time trying to recognize famous voices which pulled me out of the film. Sorry, Meryl, couldn't recognize you, but I think it's because the role of wife/mother is universally calm and undistinguishable. It's a thankless job. Except for Holly Hunter's distinctive twang in "The Incredibles" (2004), I never get the women's voices. They are all equally modulated and calm.

Kudos to Michael Gambon who can play as evil in this film as he can kind in "Harry Potter"; to Willem Dafoe for his depiction of a rat which will plummet the sale and keeping of pet rats for decades to come.

The Maid (La Nana) (2009)
Director/Writer: Sebastian Silva
Cast: Catalina Saavedra, Claudia Celedon, Alejandro Goic, Andrea García-Huidobro, Mariana Loyola, Agustín Silva, Darok Orellana, Sebastián La Rivera, Mercedes Villanueva, Anita Reeves, Delfina Guzmán
Time: 95 min.It's a fascinating and frightening thing to watch a woman go through a nervous breakdown. At first one might think that live-in maid with 23 years in the same household, Raquel (Catalina Saavedra), is just embarrassed to join the family at the dinner table to celebrate her 41st birthday (then to be unceremoniously whisked back to the kitchen, if not to wash her own celebratory

dishes, then to at least find her usual place behind the scenes of the household). Perhaps her birthday sets off an avalanche of emotions -- middle aged reflections of lifetime accomplishments (the only one being her belief that this family's children love her since she recognizes no other family in her life). Does the paranoia kick in full throttle when her very beneficent and compassionate boss brings in another maid to help her in her chores?

The constant headaches, her vicious acts against members of the family and new maids hired only to easy her workload, her day off in which Raquel has nothing to do but wander through streets and buy a sweater that reminds her of her mistress -- all symptoms of a mind fractured and crumbling under the decades-long pressure of being an outsider, a lower class citizen in the only household she knows? I love watching foreign films -- in this case, Chilean. People really look like people. For instance, in "The Box," one of the most beautiful woman in Hollywood today plays the part of a wife with financial problems who is offered a million dollars to press a button which will not only earn her one million dollars, but kill someone somewhere on this planet. Was she chosen because she is so drop-dead gorgeous? After a while, I get tired of the .0001% of the population (young and gorgeous and talented and did I say gorgeous) representing me and everyone else who pay the big bucks to see movies. I just stop relating, and don't even realize it till I happen upon a film like "The Maid," and get reconnected with humanity. These are real people with real day-to-day problems, and their maid is going through a crisis.Now, honestly, I don't exactly relate to the problems Raquel is experiencing or empathize with her. She is so stoic, internalized, stiff, and tense to the breaking point which she does cross. And at first I truly believe that actress Catalina Saavedra must actually be a maid possibly found by the director or casting director to do this part. But as the film progresses and we watch her mental deterioration, my jaw ever so slowly drops as I watch this masterful craftswoman portray this fictional character crossing the brink. Muchos kudos to Ms. Saavedra. "The Maid" is a subtle, realistic and engrossing study of a have-not living among the haves. As cold and nasty as she is, we are won over, we care, we root for her and hope she finds some equanimity in her life. We hope she comes into her own. We hope she heals.

P.S. The many shower scenes of the maids could only be described as gratuitous, jarring in their unnecessary and repetitious intrusion. It seemed not so much an intimate look at the life of a maid as a casting session by a dirty old man producer.

Gentlemen Broncos (2009)
Director: Jared Hess
Writers: Jared Hess and Jerusha Hess
Cast: Michael Angarano, Jennifer Coolidge, Jermaine Clement, Halley Feiffer, Sam Rockwell, Edgar Oliver, Hector Jimenez, Johnny Hoops.
Rated: PG13
Time: 90 min

This film was sooooo bad, it was.... fun. Not good, but good fun. It is a devastating criticism of science fiction books, their writers, the hopefuls and all sci fi enthusiasts. You may say they are all easy targets and have been the brunt of insults in film and television many times before, but this film is by far the most insulting in its tackiness, raw stupidity, and underlying genius in exposing those at the top of this particular heap.

Ben (Michael Angarano), dressed in one of his mother's creations,
being publicly humiliated by renown author Chevalier (Jermaine Clement)

Woeful, young Ben (Michael Angarano, “Man in the Chair” 2007) writes sci-fi fantasy novels not only to escape his odd, lonely life in a very cozy geodesic dome with his loving, home-schooling mom Judith (Jennifer Coolidge again playing an off kilter lady, this time mom and nightgown fashion designer [once the standard poodle owner in “Best in Show” 2000]), but also in remembrance of his father. The main character of his novel is Bronco, an incarnation of his dad, who fights evil, cylops, yeast miners who want to create a superior army based on his excised scrotum’s valuable genes. The constant references to laser blasting teats, testicles, projectile vomit, character names that sound like anus and references to other sundry human parts is not so much reflective of the authors’ adolescent intelligence, but well chosen examples of the sci-fi fan mentality. Marrieds Jared and Jerusha Hess co-wrote “Nacho Libre” (2006) and “Napoleon Dynamite” (2004) as well as “Gentlemen Broncos”, so they seem to have a direct

line into the mind set of the off kilter youth of America. Well, somebody’s got to do it, or at least profit from it. No, really, I loved “Napoleon D.” for the psychological complexity hidden under the seemingly dead faces and monotone voices of its American heartland characters. It really spoke volumes about the stoic, yet troubled characters that populate that film and possibly our country.

Back to “Gentlemen Broncos” (even though there is only one multi-faceted character called Bronco in the film). Ben goes to a sci-fi symposium, meets fellow home-school students Tabatha (Halley Feiffer in her first major role) and her filmmaking buddy (Hector Jimenez, “Sin Nombre” 2009), and listens in awe to recognized giant among sci-fi authors, Chevalier (Jermaine Clement, “Diagnosis Death” 2009). From hopeful writing contestant, to plagiarized failure, to a writer whose work has been bastardized in film, Ben’s life seems to always find a way to get worse. Leaps in logic; hysterically pathetically drawn characters; adolescent plots and absurd special effects (the sound is always good) in both Ben’s real life and the various versions of his book, all keep the audience jaw-dropped while laughing -- no easy feat. Of course, Sam Rockwell (“Moon” 2009) as both incarnations of Bronco was a blast (literally) to watch even though he was unrecognizable.

I, myself, refused to laugh at the many insulting gay stereotypes which harken back to the time of homophobia in America. Not to be too politically correct, but it’s just too easy to get a laugh from these pinky-up, lisping, swishes. Still there was more than enough to keep me absorbed in the sci-fi antics and poor Ben’s misadventures. Actually, I’d like to see it again.

Motherhood (2009)
Director / Writer: Katherine Dieckmann
Cast: Uma Thurman, Minnie Driver, Anthony Edwards, Daisy Tahan, Matthew and David Shallipp, Alice Drummond
Rated: PG13
Time: 90 min. Is Eliza (Uma Thurman) a modern day Sylvia Plath, driven to the edge by motherhood, caring for two perfect children at the expense of her artistic writing pursuits? Or is she just another blogging complainer who can't afford therapy, a nanny or a housekeeper, unable to find the time to write sentiments most appropriate for Hallmark greeting cards? I have to admit, I found it difficult to sympathize with her. She leaves to the last day all preparations for her daughter's birthday party, which include going to a party store and a bakery to pick up everything she needs and then hanging some crape paper and a Happy Birthday banner. She doesn't pick up her dog's poop on the street, she doesn't buckle her son into the car seat (shades of Brittney Spear), she leaves him alone in the car while she yells at another driver, she smokes even though her daughter pleads with her not to, she rats on a friend in her blog. I could go on. Mostly, she complains that she doesn't have time for herself. She even suggests to her friend that she would warn other women not to do it, meaning have children. Yet, she finds time to go clothes shopping for herself, entertain the messenger, write countless entries in a blog (don't ask me how I feel about blogs), and write an essay -- all these responsibilities and personal activities take place in one day. I'd say all she needs is a one day seminar in time management and getting over it. Instead of wishing your life were better, donate $25 to a non-profit like Kiva.org or ODCF.org which give small loans to women in third world countries to get them out of poverty and become self-sufficient. Uma was adorable in her distraught mode. Minnie Driver as her best friend, Sheila, is always a pleasure to watch. And though Eliza (Uma) has a husband and a steady income, Sheila (Minnie) is pregnant with her second child and alone, but seems more in control. This only proves it's not your situation that makes you desperate, it's how you deal with it.

Okay, maybe I'm being a bit too harsh. It's tough having Anthony Edwards as a caring husband with a few charming eccentricities, it's tough living in the West Village of Manhattan where the worst problem is parking and dealing with all the production companies that shoot movies on your block,

it's tough having two healthy, adorable, quiet, good natured, loving children. (Oops, sarcasm.) My point is if a woman wants a family and the ability to pursue her creative goals, she would be in a pretty good situation if she traded places with Eliza. I bet even Kate Winslett's April Wheeler of "Revolutionary Road" (2008) would find it palpable.Now, to really get a wonderful, poignant and empathetic view of a family woman's life, I highly recommend "A Special Day" (1977), with a very unglamourous Sophia Loren and an old, gay, lonely Marcello Mastroianni. It's early 1930's Rome, and she has a quiet day in her apartment because her husband and family are off to see the momentous meeting of Mussolini and Hitler. She spends a little time with her next door neighbor and the inner frustration of their lives is revealed. It is available on disc and at Netflix. There's a movie about a wife/mother's day. Please don't think I only appreciate foreign drama. I'm not a cineaste. I even appreciated the Hollywood comedy, "One Fine Day" (1996) with Michelle Pfeiffer and George Clooney as two divorced parents just trying to take care of business. I believed the exigency of their situation if not their emotional lives.

My philosophy is if you want to write, write. If you want to have children, breed. If you want both, figure it out; don't stick your head in the oven, don't blow your brains out, don't go to New Jersey.

Big Fan (2009)
Director / Writer: Robert D. Siegel
Producer: Jean Kouremetis. Elan Bogarin
Casting: Robert D. Siegel
Cast: Patton Oswalt, Kevin Corrigan, Michael Rapaport, Marcia Jean Kurtz, Matt Servitto, Serafina Fiore, Gino Cafarelli, Jonathan Hamm, Polly Humphreys, Scott Ferrall
Rated: R
Time: 85 min.

They say all stand up comics are deeply emotional, depressed, angst ridden – not fun at all outside of the comedy club forum. This must be true based on films like “Lenny" (1974), starring Dustin Hoffman as the most tragic of comics, Lenny Bruce, “Punchline” (1988), starring Tom Hanks, “Man on the Moon” (1991) with Jim Carrey playing disturbed comic Andy Kaufman, and the recent, “Funny People,” starring Adam Sandler. Since everything I know is from the movies, I have learned this lesson repeatedly.

And many comics have utilized their dramatic skills to become very successful actors: for instance Robin Williams, Steve Martin, Denis Leary..Stay with me here. It makes perfect sense that Robert D. Siegel would prefer a little-recognized comic to an established dramatic actor to play his first directing/writing project, “Big Fan.” After his Oscar nominated and multi award winning, “The Wrestler,” we could assume his next film would also be a dramatic, character study and not, as the name of the film might imply, a sports movie.

Patton Oswalt, most recognized as the voice of Remy in the animated “Ratatouille” (2007), has us believe and feel his every moment of euphoria, frustration and desperation as Paul Aufiero, the New York Giant’s biggest fan. Paul lives only for his team. At work as a parking garage cashier, he has time to compose his latest Giants-related criticism for his favorite, late night, call-in, sports talk radio show. He is jubilant going to the local games, happy to sit in the stadium parking lot watching the game on his car battery driven TV. I don’t know why he doesn’t buy tickets since he does have a regular income with no expenses since he lives with his mother. He has found his perfect niche, and the complaints of his family about his lack of career, marriage, family, a life of any kind other than his obsession with a football team fall on deaf ears. And this is not just empty sports fan enthusiasm, based on lack of ambition, fear of women, ennui or anything else. Paul really doesn’t want the trappings of any other kind of life. He is truly happy making comments on the radio, watching the games on TV, catching a glimpse of a quarterback hero out on the town. That really is all he wants out of life. When put to the test, Paul Aufiero puts his loyalty to his team above personal welfare, health, offers of a huge monetary reward. To him, nothing and no one is more important than the New York Giants. He’ll even go into the very heart of darkness itself, the enemy camp, to seek justice at the risk of his own life and freedom -- all for the New York Giants.I found the character frustratingly disturbing in his complaisance and Zen like satisfaction with his life. We as Americans have a birthright and obligation to living a life at least a step better than our parents'. We are breast fed ambition -- the American Dream, the land of opportunity, the place where if you work hard, anything is possible. And here is Paul Aufiero who loves his dead-end life spent in his mother’s spare bedroom, the parking garage ticket booth and his car in the stadium parking lot. That is really all he wants; and he’s not settling for anything anyone else would consider better. He is happy. I also found this character fascinating and mesmerizing. Patton Oswalt, though he has appeared in many film and television shows in recent years, is now a leading dramatic actor to be reckoned with. Let me repeat – this is not a sports movie. This is a profile of a guy from Staten Island who’s only hope in life is that the Giants win the pennant. Good luck to him and them.

p.s. I must state here my frustration with New Yorkers’ attitude towards the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge. When a film takes place in San Francisco, it is awash in beauty shots of the Golden Gate Bridge (it even has a talent agent), and sometimes the equally beautiful western span of the Bay Bridge. But New Yorkers have consistently refused to recognize the majesty, nay, magnificence of the Verrazano Bridge. What’s that about? In the whole of “Big Fan,” the bridge appears less them a moment in a reflection of the windshield of a car. Lot’s of ferry boats, lots of driving on roads in and out of Staten Island, yet no establishing shot of the Verrazano Bridge. Hey, New Yorkers, get over it. Maybe it only goes from Brooklyn to Staten Island, but it is the gateway to New York Harbor, seen long before the Statue of Liberty. Give the bridge a break.

Directors: Wen Jian, Mira Nair, Shunji Iwai, Brett Ratner, Allen Hughes, Shekhar Khapur, Natalie Portman, Fatih Akin, Joshua Marston and Randy Balsmyer. Writers: Emmanuel Benbihy, Tristan Carne, Hall Powell, Israel Horovitz, James C. Strouse, Shunji Iwai, Hu Hong, Yao Meng, Joshua Marston, Alexandra Cassavetes, Stephen Winter, Jeff Nathanson, Anthony Minghella, Natalie Portman, Fatih Akin, Yvan Attal, Olivier Lecot, Suketu Mehta, Cast: Bradley Cooper, Andy Garcia, Hayden Christensen, Rachel Bilson, Natalie Portman, Irrfan Khan, Abe Karpen, Emilie Ohana, Orlando Bloom, Christina Ricci, Maggie Q, Ethan Hawke, James Caan, Blake Lively, Drea de Matteo, John Hurt, Shia LaBeouf, Julie Christie, John Hurt, Drea de Matteo, Burt Young, Chris Cooper, Robin Wright Penn, Ethan Hawke, Eli Wallach and Cloris Leachman, Anton YelchinTime: 1:52
Rated: R

I can imagine a round table production meeting of all the writers and directors of “New York, I Love You,” a table that dwarfs King Arthur’s, where somehow everyone agrees on how all the stories intersect, how the tone, color, and overall feel of the film develops into a beautiful mosaic from a pile of multicolored shards. Actually, I can’t imagine it. Really, how did they do that—meld 12 five minute short films into one flowing fugue in homage to New York?

James Caan as a pharmacist, Director Brett Ratner,
and prom boy, Anton Yelchin. surrounded by unmistakable
New York brownstones

Don’t let me lead you astray. “New York....” is not a sociological study, but a bunch of little moments among people -- some sharing a cab, some sharing a smoke on the sidewalk outside a restaurant, some in a little pawn shop or pharmacy. Their moments are precious -- truly reflecting universal emotions and situations that happen more frequently in New York than anyplace else in the world. It’s as true today as it was back in 1958 when the shot-on-location crime drama opened with, “There are eight million stories in the Naked City.” Cities with larger populations never boasted more stories. There is an individuality among New Yorkers which makes their stories, even if they just got off the boat or landed at Kennedy, uniquely human, endearing, heart rendering, and often funny That’s what “New York…” shows is through the myriad talents of its writers, directors and actors. Obviously, everyone poured his/her heart into this project. The cast members alone are worth the price of admission.Whereas Paris was overwhelmingly beautiful, New York is sometimes gritty and unattractive, sometimes a wonderland of fog rising from manholes and starry restaurant signs lighting up a black amorphous nothingness. All the stories resonate with a truth, an intelligent sensibility, a touch of neurosis. All are unmistakably New York.

For those of you unfamiliar with New York City or not in the art or rock music fields, you may not know about the Chelsea Hotel. For years it has been considered a dive with a great artistic tradition in the Chelsea area of Manhattan (perhaps named after the hotel itself, or vice versa). It boasts, besides some of the great emerging artists of New York; multi-day parties of drunken and drugged revelry; many deaths, some accidental, some not; and a quixotic manager who wouldn't charge some and gouged others.

In all her glory.

Even as a resident of New York, I wanted to spend one night at the Chelsea, but didn't have the nerve or the need. I only lived a few blocks away anyway. I was on 24th and 2nd; the Chelsea was 23rd and 7th. Typical for New York, the crossroads of the world, and the Chelsea being a hub within that hub, I was walking past the Chelsea one day and some men called out to me by name. They were a Belgium dance performance group I had interviewed for my San Francisco TV show earlier that year. Years later, another friend of mine, a research scientist from Santa Rosa, CA, working in England, invited me for lunch while she was staying over. Producer Jen Gatien was living in the Chelsea Hotel when rumors of the change of management started to swirl around its hallways. She then decided to document the hotel's illustrious reputation and coming changes, enrolling her father's long time friend, filmmaker Abel Ferrar to direct.More than historic documentary, the film is actually a recordation of what the Chelsea has been recently, and includes interviews with many of it's tenants and a look at its changes from a residency/day hotel for artists of all ilks, whether they could pay or not, to a boutique hotel with rates starting at $225 all way up to the best and most expensive any hotel can rival. You can learn a lot more about the hotel from Wikipedia or the film's website (www.aliquotsum.com). But the filmmaker, Abel Ferrare, the long time residents, and those who hold dear the traditions of the Chelsea, warts and all, want to yell and scream about what a great place the Chelsea once was and what it's turned into under the new regime. I certainly don't mind what was covered in this doc, even though the transitions to dramatizations were sometimes confusing, even though there were no names of people speaking printed on the bottom of the screen, even though Abel Ferrara constantly speaks off camera, injecting annoying monosyllabics and useless comments. I would have liked more information about the history of the hotel, integrating more of its illustrious guests and the impact each made upon the other. We never heard from the new management of the hotel either. Was this because they had no comment or Ferrara decided what this documentary should impart? Though all documentaries do have a perspective and agenda, "Chelsea on the Rocks" is decidedly partial, giving only a partial story and a partial perspective. I have no doubt the new management is only out to make a profit at the cost of the artist community and the legacy promulgated by the hotel's manager for the past 50 years, Stanley Bard, but one can juxtapose another documentary, "Crude," which extensively interviews Exxon's spokespersons regarding poisonous crude oil pollution in Ecuador to bring into clarity what liars and ruthless environmental killers they are. Ferrara should have trusted that, given the opportunity, the new management of the Chelsea Hotel would have condemned themselves as well.

Since "Chelsea on the Rocks" is the only film out there about the Chelsea Hotel, once a frightening hell and artistic haven at the same time, now completely sanitized, sterilized and depersonalized, you really ought to see what's left of it.

Five Minutes of Heaven (2009)
Director: Oliver Hirschbiegel
Cast: Liam Neeson, James Nesbitt, Anamaria Marinea
Rated:
Time: 90 minutes

Reconciliation is definitely the high road, one not often enough taken. Both sides in the "troubles" in Ireland believed God was on their side and they felt they had to do something. Lives were lost, yet your neighbor may have been your son's killer 30 years earlier. Understandably, it may take more than time and even prison sentences to heal these wounds.In "Five Minutes of Heaven," for those who have not found closure, a popular reality TV show brings the opposing parties together for a meeting, forgiveness and an resolution to that episode of their lives. People who were hurt during those times can finally confront the perpetrators. The producers and staff of this show are sensitive to the emotions surging under the skins of their guests and do their best to calm them and get both sides into the same room for civilized discussion. One guest, Alistair Little (played by Liam Neeson, "Batman Begins"), at the age of 17, put on a ski mask and went to the home of his target, saw a young boy playing ball outside the house, walked past him and up to the window of the house, and killed the target -- who happened to be the young boy's brother. The other guest, Joe Griffin (played by James Nesbitt, "Match Point"), is the same brother who witnessed the murder.

Now, it's bad enough to witness one's brother's death, but even though the culprit was brought to justice and served a prison term, there seems to be no end to the nightmare. Obviously unfairly, Nesbitt's mother blamed him, at the time a child of no more than 12, for not stopping the man with the gun from killing her son. So, besides grief, there is shame, loss of one's mother's love, feelings of cowardice and a strong need for revenge.

for years, if not the rest of their lives. And "Five Minutes of Heaven" explores this damage from all angles and aspects.

Both Neeson and Nesbitt are powerful and precise in expressing the feelings of their characters. Both are sympathetic and believable. The film only starts in the reality show location. We are not stuck for 90 minutes in a room with two chairs. This is not an intellectual or psychological confrontation a la Satre as a story of two men coping with the past and their parts in it.

Whip It! (2009)
Director: Drew Barrymore
Writer (novel and screenplay): Shauna Cross
Cast: Ellen Page, Alia Shawkat, Marcia Gay Harden, Daniel
Stern, Landon Pigg, Juliette Lewis, Drew Barrymore, Kristen Wiig,
Jimmy Fallon, Rosa Sparks, Zoe Bell, Eve, Andrew Wilson
Executive Producer: Drew Barrymore, et al.
Rated: PG13
Time: 111 min.

Girls always have a hard time getting permission to partake in sports. Remember "Bend it Like Beckham" (2002) and "Ice Princess" (2005), among others? Well, maybe it's not so easy to remember "Ice Princess." Nonetheless, parents would still rather see their daughters pursuing academic careers or family life rather than competitive sports, be the sport as culturally accepted as soccer or as pristine and elegant as figure skating.

Certainly roller derby, the grittiest, most violent, lowest common denominator sport, played in abandoned warehouses by women of dubious pasts and social habits, ensconced in ripped fishnet hose, tattoos and far too much makeup, is simply not acceptable. This milieu is certainly not accepted for Jenny (Ellen Page - "Juno") who at the age of 17 is still being dragged by her mother (Marcia Gay Harden - "Miller's Crossing") to beauty competitions and is being groomed for college.

Jenny encounters roller derby and is snagged by its sisterhood of skaters, wild parties, outsider lifestyle and cute boy hangers-on. She sneaks out to see the derby, try out, practice and compete. This lithe, frail, teeny girl becomes the Harry Potter of the game; she's the youngest player in the scoring position. She even becomes the photographic representation of the game. At the same time, she learns many of life's lessons.Nonetheless, after having now seen roller derby, possibly at its most sanitized, I still wouldn't want my daughter involved. These girls compare their huge, purple bruises against each other's. They take bone breaking hits, smashes and falls. They still have to maintain their day jobs, as Johnny Rocket, the announcer at bouts (Jimmy Fallon, "Saturday Night Live") humorously comments on the microphone during a match, waitressing all day so they can compete at night. And the men they find in the bleachers can do little better to support a family. Call me old fashioned, but a gold medal, with its concomitant endorsements, goes a lot further than, "Yah hoo, we're second!" Yes, viewing this film was a lot of fun. I had a great time watching the team, which included Drew Barrymore (also director and executive producer, "ET") at her absolutely most adorable, and the competitor-villainous nemesis Juliette Lewis doing her best nasty. I wanted to be at those parties where almost nobody got drunk and nobody took drugs, where there was only good natured comraderie and lots of laughs, where losing was as much fun as winning. I just hope no young girls in the audience catch roller derby fever and take one of those business cards that were handed out after the film advertising the Bay Area Derby Girls. Stay in school, stay off drugs, seriously consider, if not obey, your parents. There, I've said it.

P.S. The lipstick used in this film was gorgeous. I'm not particularly a lipstick whore, but it was so fine, it could not be ignored. Came in many natural tan, orange and brown muted colors with the perfect hint of gloss. I just couldn't stop gazing it all those lips perfectly coutoured. Watch for it.

Love Happens (2009)
Director: Brandon Camp
Writers: Brandon Camp, Mike Thompson
Cast: Aaron Eckhart, Jennifer Anniston, Dan Fogler, John Carroll Lynch, Martin Sheen, Judy Greer, Frances Conroy, Joe Anderson
Rated: PG13
Time: 109 min.

So, Burke (Aaron Eckhart) lost his wife three years ago. This devastating experience led him to write a book on dealing with grief, which led to his giving seminars, and attracting the attention of media moguls who want to turn him into a virtual grief guru with TV show and a line of lucrative products including diet powder since surveys have shown that grieving people gain weight.Aaron meets a lot of people in his travels, including lots and lots of women, from seminar participants to talk show and magazine interviewers to photographers. But one day he turns a hotel hallway corner and bumps into Jennifer Anniston. Ah, she's the one! This is where the film looses me. Couldn't come up with a better plot device to pierce his long standing grief/guilt/isolation than a bump into Jennifer? Romantic to some, damned Hollywood lack of attention, lack of imagination, lack of experience among the film's writers to me. In any case, I go ho hum in my seat and from that point on watch with my head instead of my heart and wish I had more popcorn to munch on. But it doesn't stop there. The pat Hollywood romantic pap continues through the predictable plot. Jennifer plays hard to get then relents, Jennifer comes up with really cute ideas to make a date more fun than imaginable, Aaron screws it up so they break up and then can get back together again. Lordy, lordy, have I been there before? Well, yes, but never in so much rain as in this Seattle-based film. Humor me -- watch one commercial for "Love Happens," then explain the whole plot to whomever you are around at the time. Don't forget to include the public confession that is de rigeur in such films. You will not be far off. Ever think of becoming a Hollywood writer? This seems to be a year for dishonest self-help gurus. In "Arlen Farber," Jeff Daniels writes a book about his conversations with god and how now the enlightened Arlen can answer all life's questions. Of course, everyone believes him on face value and craves answers. Actually, his answers are very good; he just doesn't take his own advice. You'll cringe at this public apology as well. But I found his meeting with his love interest more imaginative.

"Love Happens" hasn't proven to me that grief is a good source of romantic comedy. The TV detective comedy "Monk" has -- underlying every moment of his daily life, Monk is aware of how much of him died with his wife. I find Eckhart's fluctuations between dating game maneuverings and dealing with his festering wounds of grief and sorrow unconvincing. And I had to laugh at his first meeting with Jennifer where she pretended to be deaf to cut short a conversation with him. In his almost first film, "In the Company of Men" (1997), Eckhart plays a misogynist who plots to manipulate and ruin the life of a hearing impaired woman who works in his office. I had to chuckle.

And I have to admit, I have always thought there was more to Jennifer A-nniston than being just perky and cute and needing to get a man in her life. She showed such great promise as an actress in "The Good Girl" (2002), tackling much more interesting material. This was a film that explored real human feelings of quiet desperation, not one that dazzles its audience with 20 different beauty shots of the Seattle needle. That's an example of content versus style. "Love Happens" is one step less unsettling for me than her last foray in acting, "Management" (2008), a romantic comedy about a stalker who wins over a cute, yet serious girl. Okay, she was much more somber in this one.

The point is, if I'm comparing "Love Happens" to so many other films, it's because my mind was drifting to better places while I watched this one. Show me something new, not necessarily a whole original film, but one thought, one scene, one something that hasn't been beaten to death, often better, in a plethora of other films. If you've never seen a Hollywood romance before, this might be very fresh and charming. There are new audiences going to films for the first time all the time. "Love Happens" has all the elements you like and will learn to expect in romances. Eckhart and Anniston make a lovely couple who are very sweet. There are no bad guys in this film and I like that. Nice date movie for young people who haven't seen it before.

Cloud 9 (Walke Neun) (2008)
Director: Andreas Dresin
Writers: Andreas Dresin, Jörg Hauschild, Laila Stieler, Cooky Ziesche
Cast: Ursula Werner, Horst Rehberg, Horst Westphal, Steffi Kühnert
Time: 98 min.
German with English subtitles

Inga (Ursula Werner) delivers a pair of pants she has altered for a customer (Horst Rehberg) to his home. He's surprised she came all this way to deliver the pants. Though a happily married woman, she smiles coquettishly. I swear I can see her eyelashes flutter. He can't help but pick up on her obvious, adolescent flirting and responds accordingly. Within minutes, they are undressing and are in the throes of passion, nakedly writhing, intimately touching, reaching climax together, relaxing in each other's arms. Now, here's the kicker. Inga is 67 years old and Werner is 76.

The plot to me is married old woman meets old man, they fall in love, ecstasy and guilt follow. Really not much of a plot. Nonetheless, I am fascinated because: first of all, this is not an attractive woman. Even in her prime, she could only have been considered plain, and I love honing in on the lives of real people, especially older women, the most undeserved in the film world. The recently released "Seraphina," explored the true life of an unattractive, overweight, silent, hardworking woman who happened to be a very talented artist. In that review I admitted I was disappointed to find she was exceptional in some way and that made her biopic valid. I wanted the typical life of a woman, not particularly beautiful, talented, gifted or extraordinary, but a woman like most of us in this aging world population. Voila, or should I say, Ach de lieber, here is Inga.

Secondly, the subtlety of the script explores in small nuances and suggestions the life and character of Inga and her men. Her husband was her second. If you do the math, Inga was 37 when they married. What happened to the first husband? I assume he died because we see her daughter (Steffi Kühnert) from her first marriage and there is no mention of the adult child's father. We explore Inga's feelings about being in love, passionately, again after all this time and the resulting confusion about her relationships with her lover and her husband. Though we explore the many ramifications of her adultery, very little is suggested about the issue of age. How long will she have with her new man if she stays with him? Should she give up all she has for this probably brief relationship? How does she justify her actions to her husband? How does he react?And the reason all of these psychological facets of Inga's relationships are so fascinating is because Ursula Werner is a consummate actress. Very often people are awed by great acting. Meryl Streep gets all her accents right from "Sophie's Choice"'s Polish to "Doubt"'s Rosie O'Donnell Long Islandese. We watch the twitch of her brow inflected at just the right moment in the dialogue, her gestures, her intonations. Not to take away from Ms. Streep, as I never would, Werner's talent can slip right past you. You don't watch the actress work in scenes from erotic euphoria to annoyance to guilt to joy; you live it with the character. She is flawless in embodying her character and we are carried with her on her emotional roller coaster.

It's good to see old people living their lives; to note that emotionally they're the same as ours. They are not necessarily wiser than the next guy, or crotchety, or Altzheimic, or simplistic. They are what we are; the whole wide range of people they were in their youths. It's good to know that. It's good to see people live out their lives, meet challenges, make choices -- and they don't have to look like Katherine Heigl as the girl who can't get a date. They look like real people and live real lives. Hey, Americans, we can take it. Aren't we all a little bored with the pretty people imitating us unconvincingly, pathetically, insultingly. Inga looking at herself naked in a mirror may not be a pretty sight, her close-ups may be unsympathetic, but we are all mature enough to appreciate her life and join her in it for an hour and a half.

My One and Only (2009)
Director: Richard Loncraine
Writer: Charlie Peters
Cast: Réne Zellweger, Logan Lerman, Mark Rendall, Kevin Bacon, Chris Noth, Steven Weber, Eric McCormack, Nick Stahl, David Koechner
Rated: PG-13
Time: 108 min.

If "My One and Only" is a comedy, it is a human comedy, based on human situations, not jokes, pratfalls, unrealistic situations. The opening credits of the film make it clear that this is a story that takes place at a certain time, the 1950's, with an image and music filled montage, the age of the blossoming American family, a time from which much of America has never recovered or at least changed, a time of the housewife, either middle class and a good mother, or upper class and a Manhattan socialite. Women were wives or not talked about at all.In this environment, we find Ann Devereaux (Réne Zellweger), wife of successful bandleader, Dan (Kevin Bacon), catching said husband in flagranto delicto with another woman. With class that I immediately admire in her, she helps zips the other woman's dress, packs her own bags, and leaves. No fighting, no displays of emotion. What's the point? He's ruined their marraige and she's gone. Oh, yes. She takes her two teenage sons with her. She can't leave them with him. Now, where to they go to school? Okay, she finds them, packs them into a new Cadillac, and starts a journey she believes will be short and successful -- to find a new husband.

Back in 1974, in "Alice Doesn't Live Here Anymore," Ellen Burstyn (the housewife) and her son start fresh. She faces her own disappointments and inner growth while dealing with the real world. "Alice" is a more gritty film than "My One and Only" that rings very true in a time when women were struggling for independence and the ability to fulfill their dreams. "Auntie Mame" (1958) depicts Mame (Rosalind Russell), not only a socialite, by a very eccentric one, raising her nephew while hunting for a rich husband. Now, that fantasy really was fun, sumptuous, lighthearted. There's no reality in "Mame," though it reflects the type of women who never wants the party to end and would marry when funds got low (think Gabors). Surprisingly, and I really was surprised at the end of the film, "My One and Only" is a biopic. There was such a woman who in the early 1950's believed

Logan Lerman as George, Renee Zellweger as Ann and
Mark Rendall as Robbie -- on the prowl.

that she could rely on her charm and beauty, though already fading, to secure all she needed in life -- a rich husband. Perhaps she saw no other options at her age, with her upbringing, or maybe it was just her character. But we ride in the back seat of that 1953 Cadillac convertible and cross the country, one disappointment and revelation after another till we reach our destination -- self-understanding and independence, and California. I'd like to believe neither are dependent upon the other, though California is always a good place to end up.

The story is told by narrator, younger son, George (Logan Lerman), who has a critical eye towards his mother, disagrees with her decisions and is distrustful of her ability to lead herself and her sons to some semblance of security and equanimity. This boy has a bright future. Though I don't like to call this film a comedy, it was, in turn, funny, sad, subtle and always engaging. I loved all the performances, especially Zellweger's. I wantd her to find her man though personally, I'm fiercely independent. She did win me over even though she was flawed, often obvlivious, and wanted to be dependent. There may still be women like Ann Devereaux out there, and there are certainly men who still want them at their prime. Nice to know there are choices now, though, and even were back then.

Extract (2009)
Writer/Director: Mike Judge
Cast: Jason Bateman, Ben Affleck, Mila Kunis, Kristen Wiig,
J. K. Simmons, David Koechner, Clifton Collins, Jr., Gene Simmons

Extract is a pleasant enough comedy. I laughed several times, I empathized with our frustrated protagonist, I stayed awake. But the pathos of "Funny People," or the biting, satirical, political commentary of "In the Loop," or the extreme shock and daring of "Bruno" just weren't there. So, it seemed to me I was watching a TV movie, pleasant, safe, predictable, comfortable. Oddly, writer/director Mike Judge is the TV co-creator of such programs as "King of the Hill" and "Beavis and Butt-Head," as well as contributing to "Saturday Night Live," all of which take more chances in their themes and stories. Is Judge mellowing out with age?

Ben Affleck with beard dispenses advice as well as booze.
Jason Bateman as frustrated husband unfortunately follows it.

In "Extract," Jason Bateman plays Joel, the owner of a flavor extract company, who is sexually frustrated because his wife avoids having sex with him. His "wacky" scheme, inspired by his friend/bartender Dean (Ben Affleck), is to hire a gigolo to have sex with his wife, Suzie (Kristen Wiig), so he doesn't have to feel guilty about having sex with new temp factory worker Cindy (Mila Kunis) who has schemes of her own. The mild mayhem follows. Joel and his wife are very nice people. I distrust "nice" people. They go unnoticed. Nothing stands out about them, no clear personality or character traits; they're just "nice." And unfortunately, I have learned through life experience that "nice" people can do really thoughtless, mean, damaging things to other people while looking absolutely harmless. Nice people are not harmless; they just seem that way because they are outwardly so namby pamby. Joel's factory is run like a dangerous clown show; he plans on cheating on his wife; both he and his wife would rather be celibate and cause each other distress than talk to each other; and she would rather cheat than solve relationship problems. They're a "nice" couple.Ben Affleck as Joel's friend was the light and color in this gray film. He constantly spews advice to his friend, all having to do with an endless supply of pills he keeps behind the bar, weed to calm the nerves, and friends so stupid they can barely talk who will act as pool boy/seducer. I always brightened up for the Ben scenes. And Gene Simmons' portrayal of the sleazy lawyer was just so .... him. He's been wasting his career playing music instead of practicing law, selling used cars (a compassionate profession in comparison), or acting.

Also of note: extract production seems to be a lucrative business. Joel's home's driveway seemed endless, his house vast, and his swimming pool so large we only got to see a small portion of it even in a long shot. Please get that pool cleaned, finally. It's too beautiful to waste.

World's Greatest Dad (2009)
Director/Writer: Bobcat Goldthwaite
Cast: Robin Williams, Alexie Gilmore, Daryl Sabara, Evan Martin, Henry Simmons, Lorraine Nicholson, Zach Sanchez, Geoffrey Pierson, Tony V.
Executive Producers: Sarah de Sa Rego, Jennifer Roth
Rated: R
Time: 98 minutes

It's not easy making a comedy about teen suicide. I'm not even sure it's commendable that Bobcat Goldthwaite attempted it. I am sure just the publicity, advertisements, trailers, and talk about this film will cause tremendous pain and outrage among the growing population of parents who have lost children to suicide. But all the most serious comics will tell you that no subject should be taboo or the socially redeeming, cathartic and valuable criticism attached to comedic social commentary will be drowned in conservatism and overly energetic political correctness. We need to exercise our artistic and creative juices, commenting on any subject, or what's the First Amendment and the funny bone for? Having said that, Goldthwaite sets us up to want to kill off this kid, Kyle, too convincing played by Daryl Sabara (all the "Spy Kids"). He's not just obnoxious, stupid, ugly, overweight, and slovenly, but he hates his father, loving, patient Lance Clayton (played by Robin Williams). How can you hate Robin Williams? Kyle is also literally perverted, fantasizing about feces covered bodies while asphixiating himself during orgasm. Really, his kid should not live. One wonders how he keeps his one friend, a quite, respectful, pensive boy, Andrew (played by Evan Martin in his first film). He might rather be friendless, except he appreciates spending time in Kyle's house, away from his alcoholic mother.As if this situation weren't dismall enough, Lance himself feels he is a dismal failure as a writer, having written 5 novels among other works, none published, and he's about to lose his poetry teaching job due to a tightening budget.

Things happen I'd rather not give away. Suffice it to say, Williams manipulates a few facts following an accident; the outcome is he tastes success, but eventually it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. I like that, under the circumstances, we all might have done what he did. That's not to say this film mirrors reality in any way, but the choices made under these odd circumstances are believable. Interesting note: I pondered after the film about Williams' character's wonderful writing ability, yet his failure to be published. During the film, anyone who had read anything he had written honestly and sincerely felt the work was very good. This is a sad commentary about the possibly many unpublished, wonderful writers out there who, for one reason or another, never made it. How come?Unfulfilled: I never got enough information to figure out why fellow schooltecher Claire (Alexie Gilmore of TV's "New Amsterdam") was involved with Williams. She is sweet, warm, friendly, honest. On the one hand, she really seemed to like him. On the other, she bounced over to his rival as the winds blew fair or foul. Never really understood the motivations behind her affair with Williams. I felt unfulfilled as an observer of their relationship. Confused: The ending of the film seemed very out of context, un-led-up-to and perplexing. Sadly, it was not very attractive either. Sorry, Robin. I can say no more.

Moral of the story: if you kill yourself, you don't get to control how you're remembered.

Young grandson, David (Paul Campbell, the new “Knight Rider” and “Battlestar Galactica”), wants to help his 84 year old grandfather, Joe (Andy Griffith, “Matlock” and “Mayberry, R.F.D.”), out of his suicidal funk. Joe just can’t find the strength to live without his wife/companion/one true love. Even though she made him promise on her death bed that he would look for companionship, he just hasn’t been able to do it. David decides to inspire Grandpa with his sure fire techniques for playing the game, and if not find love and companionship, at least have some fun and a zest for living again. At the same time, after years of womanizing, David has met the woman he believes is his true companion (Maria Sokoloff) and pursues her -- disastrously using his otherwise successful tricks.

So goes the plot of “Play the Game.” For it to be effective, this genera-tional comedy must contrast the lifestyles of these two men. David is a player who knows how to make women believe they are picking him up, then bed them and politely move on. Grandpa Joe has only had one women in his life -- his wife. I find it interesting that every generation believes it has invented the pleasures and diversity of sex. The flappers of the Roaring 20's did. The more independent self-sufficient women of World War II America did while their husbands and beaus were

On the other hand, Grandpa has a few really wise words to impart to his more experienced grandson. Regarding the woman who is one’s true companion -- you’ll know it the moment you meet her or when she leaves. The seesawing between the two approaches to love also is a source of higher comedy which I found much more interesting. Grandpa can teach as much to David about the heart as David can to Grandpa about manipulation.

We see both grandfather and grandson fumble through all kinds of relationship obstacles -- some amusing, some poignant. Grandpa woos Liz Sheridan (“Seinfeld”) followed by Doris Roberts (“Everybody Loves Raymond”), with a period of playboy antics in between. Grandson David has an even rougher time succeeding in his quest for the “one,” (Marla Sokoloff).

Of interesting note: Clint Howard plays David’s father, a cold, wife-deserting, used car sales manager. Here’s the amusing connection -- besides being a well known Hollywood staple for the last 45 years, from child actor to father of the lead, he is also Ron Howard’s brother who played Andy Griffith’s son in “The Andy Griffith Show.” Clint himself was a guest on the show five times. Clint and Andy didn’t share any scenes in “Play the Game,” but I’m sure they spent some time reminiscing about the old days.I love the nursing home/condo in which Grandpa Joe resides. He has total independence, respect, privacy, gorgeous accommodations and the administration does not frown on intimate relationships or interfere in them. I want to go there when my time copmes, if such a place exists.

This film may not appeal to the younger crowd because it can’t compete with the over-the-top antics of films like “The Hangover,” and others of that genre. But Grandpa Joe’s generation may really appreciate the representation of their situation in life, if they’re not insulted by some of the moments.

Cold Souls (2009)
Writer/Director: Sophie Barthes
Cast: Paul Giamatti, David Strathairn, Emily Watson, Dina Korzun, Katheryn Winnick, Lauren Ambrose
Rating: PG-13
Time: 101 min.

Paul Giamatti plays himself, the respected actor, rehearsing "Uncle Vanya," and having a very hard time with the actor's process and developing the character. His anguish, frustration, psychological pain, confusion and sense of defeat are overwhelming. He hears about a new medical process by which one's soul can be removed and stored, leaving the patient light, angst-less and more able to function. He does it. This certainly sounds like a deal with the devil and you know there will be a price to pay.This is a comedy. I tell you right off since you may not notice. It is deadpan, straight faced comedy. The actors play for drama, but the dialogue and the absurd situations are high satire and commentary on our society which constantly aims to rid people of the discomforts that make them unique and human. Not to say the soul is exclusively human, but without it, life becomes emotionally numb, empty and purposeless.The film questions what the soul actually adds to an individual, what it's like to be soulless, what it's like to use someone else's soul instead of one's own. Of course, I saw it all already in an episode of "The Simpson's" in which Bart sells his soul and then tries desperately to get it back, feeling a ghost of his former self.

Well, Paul also feels the need to get his soul back and finds out a group of Russian soul traffickers have taken it. Oh, those Russians -- the new bad guys. They're white, so we can't be accused of bigotry. They're alien, so, they're accent gives them away. And unfortunately, they've developed a reputation, probably well earned, for mafiosa-like criminal dealings since the fall of Communism. And there's no Russian antidefamation league yet.

Giamatti is brilliant. We watch his "Uncle Vanya" rehearsals with/without/and with another's soul; his mutations are subtle, exciting, and if you have a sense of humor, you'll catch his impeccable timing as a comic while performing drama. His mood swings, fears, frustrations and moments of courage under these changing conditions are also completely believable. It's always a pleasure to watch Giamatti work, even in his bad films. I'll say no more about that. Kudos also to David Strathairn as the doctor in the "transplant clinic." He is the ultimate professional at playing the "professional." His comforting demeanor and confidence while sucking one's soul is priceless. "Think of your soul as a twisted tumor." Dina Korzun, playing a major role in the film as the Russian mule, transporting souls between New York and St. Petersburgh, was sympathetic and memorable. Though very accomplished in Russia and Europe, this is her first American film. I hope to see more of her.

Like alleviating oneself of unhappy memories in "The Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind," "Cold Souls" is a warning about losing another essential part of one's make up. Thanks, I'll hold onto mine, warts and all.

Funny People (2009)
Writer / Director / Producer: Judd Apatow
Cast: Adam Sandler Seth Rogen, Leslie Mann, Eric Bana, Jonah Hill, Jason Schwartzman, Maude and Iris Apatow
Time: 146 minutes
Rated: R

I like stand-up comics, maybe almost as much as the next guy, so it’s fun to watch a movie about them. But the film is more about the situation the lead character faces than the jokes he tells. And I found I like that even more than watching stand up comics. George Simmons (Adam Sandler) has a 92% chance of dying and is now faced not only with his mortality, but more importantly, with the mistakes he made in choosing wealth, fame and adulation over love and relationships. He is alone, and all the woman who are eager to have sex with a “name” don’t appease his loneliness. So he hires a budding comic, Ira Wright (Seth Rogen), to be his assistant, confident, joke writer.

Adam Sandler, Seth Rogen, writer/director/producer
Judd Apatow, Eric Bana and Leslie Mann on the set

There has to be a lot to say about a movie that runs two and a quarter hours. First let me say -- it’s too long! I don’t say this because as a typical American I have the attention span of an MTV watching, video game playing zombie who processes images in

nanoseconds rather than ideas in whatever time it may take. The middle of the film (some might call it a second act) just wafts about in undirected, multiple displays of self-pity.As for the jokes – some are passable funny. but most are intentionally written this way: Rogen’s jokes stink because he’s new at the stand-up game and isn’t very funny; Sandler, coping with his impending death, needs a platform to vent is fears and disappoints more than to make people laugh. Sandler’s club act reminded me of Lenny Bruce shortly before his death by overdose. Exhausted by all his arrests, trials and convictions for blue material and heartbroken over the end of his marriage, he was more a bitter philosopher at a pulpit than a comic. That’s not to say Sandler’s act reached anywhere near the revelatory intensity of Bruce. He just mostly said, “You’re going to miss me when I’m gone.” The bulk of the humor revolved around the comics’ penises. At least it’s self deprecating humor and not insulting to others. Why comics fixate on their dicks is hinted at – unhappy childhood, need for acceptance by father, need to shock. Whatever. After a while it really gets ho-hum. Even the actual, well-known comics who drop in for cameos comment on the situation more than make laughable jokes.As to my referring to Sandler rather than to his character’s name in this review, it’s because the line is made very fuzzy as to whether Sandler is playing a character at all or if this film is a tribute to his career. Throughout the film, we sit with Sandler in front of his flat screen watching his work from the last 20 years, as well as clips from his character’s fictitious film career. I’m really not sure if writer/director/producer Judd Apatow (“The 40-Year-Old Virgin,” “Knocked Up”) dug deep into his psyche to come up with an iconic comic figure or just let Sandler have at it. Maybe it’s a tribute to Sandler’s growing acting skills or maybe it’s just Sandler being Sandler.

Back to the story. Sandler decides to visit the only woman he really loved, Laura (Leslie Mann), now married and with children. As we move into the second half of this epic-lengthed movie, here comes one giant surprise and the best part of the film -- Eric Bana, as Laura’s husband, is a great comic actor. Who knew? He is not just the brooding Hulk (2003) or pensive Henry VIII (The Other Boleyn Girl, 2008) or Hector the Greek warrior (Troy, 2004) years before the “300” blinded audiences with their 6 packs and pecs. His comic timing, his delivery, his energy literally woke me up. Moral is – you can still be a big, handsome hunk and do comedy.

Adam (2009)
Director: Max Meyer
Writer: Max Mayer
Cast: Hugh Dancy, Rose Byrne, Peter Gallagher, Amy Irving,
Frankie Faison, Mark Lin-Baker
Producers: Miranda de Pencier, Leslie Urdang, Dean Venich
Time: 99 min.
Rated: PG13

Asperger's Syndrome is a condition in which one has difficultly reading people's facial expressions or subtext or irony or sarcasm. But it is an asset in "Adam," a film written and directed by Max Meyer, about an Asperger's victim or in this case, recipient. Due to his innocence in social situations, he can be trusted to always tell the truth, be gentle and slightly timid, never cheat on a girlfriend, always try extra hard to please. And being played by adorable Hugh Dancy is the cincher-- he's the perfect boyfriend. Rose Byrne's character, Beth Buchwald, who just ended an unhappy relationship with a high powered stockbroker/cheater, finds a quiet haven in Adam, an uncomplicated, yet accomplished electrical engineer who can earn a good living once he finds a new job, and he is seriously looking.

Asperger's has obviously knocked out Obsessive Compulsive Disorder as the entertainment industry's new neurotic behavior de jour. We've gone from "As Good As It Gets" (1997) to "Monk" (now in its last season) among other films and TV shows, and probably for the next few years variations on Asperger will be grist for the mill. Actually, a new, feature length, animation called "Mary and Max," highlights a very different Asperger's sufferer. Max is old, obese, gruff and voiced by Philip Seymour Hoffman. Since he's not cute and endearing like Adam, instead of a lover, a child pen pal keeps in touch with him throughout many years of correspondence.

Notice her concern, notice his unresponsive expression. Ah, love!

Interestingly, both films were in the recent San Francisco Jewish Film Festival. What qualified them for entrance into the festival: "Adam," because Beth Buchwald is Jewish -- we only know that because we hear her father, played by Peter Gallagher, say one Yiddish phrase at a party. Amy Irving also plays "the mother, Mrs. Buckwald" one of those minor, thankless roles, but she will always be "Yentl"'s (1983) wife in film and Steven Spielberg's first wife in life for all of us. That is enough to get any film in a Jewish Film Festival. "Mary and Max," gains entry because Max's last name is Horovitz, he lives in Manhattan, and (let's face it) he kvetches a lot. His disease-imposed stoicism belies his innate necessity to complain. I could relate to his Jewish heritage of city-imposed, as well as neurosis-imposed, isolation. It is probably hard to recognize a person with Asperger's in Manhattan. We're all aloof, uninvolved, unsympathetic, cautious, a little paranoid -- all the symptoms of Asperger. Max, while walking down the street and taking note of the people around him, says, "And they call me crazy!"

In any case, "Adam" is a lovely little romance between an emotionally stunted guy and woman damaged by a previous relationship. May we all be so lucky. Convincing? Close enough so if you want to suspend your disbelief, you can. But Adam, since Asperger is a mild form of autism, all that gluten in the daily dose of macaroni and cheese you ingest can't be helping your condition. Ask Jenny McCarthy.

Ocean of Pearls (2008)
Director: Sarab S. Neelam
Screenwriter: V. Prasad
Story: Sarab S. Neelam and V. Prasad
Cast: Omid Abtahi, Heather McComb, Ron Canada, Navi Rawat, Dennis Haskins
Rated: PG-13
Time: 97 min

Director/co-writer/producer and medical doctor, Sarab S. Neelam is a Sikh born in Toronto and now working in Detroit. He wanted to bring his story to the screen, the story of being raised a Sikh in Canada, thousands of miles away from his native Sikh culture in India, and then the leap to the United States and it's pressures to assimilate.

Dr. Amrit Singh (Omid Abtahi), a surgeon specializing in organ transplants, is offered a dream job in Detroit, heading the whole transplant wing of a major hospital, getting millions of dollars in research money, choosing his own staff -- so "Ocean of Pearls" goes. To accept this job, he must leave the Sikh religious and cultural womb of Toronto, his family and his fiancé. He doesn't hesitate, asking his fiancé to consider moving there as well. As always, he dutifully wears his turban, never cutting his hair and beard, as God intended, though the beard does look suspiciously short for a man his age. Never mind. Being a Sikh anywhere has its drawbacks. In India during the partition in 1947, Muslims set about trying to exterminated the whole sect. In the 1960's, the Hindus were in conflict with them. In Canada, the taunts of school children and bullies as well as the profiling by airport personnel is a constant cross to bear (pardon my mixing of religious metaphors). But the pressures of conformity to attain success in the United States, even if one's goals are altruistic and humanitarian, seem insurmountable.

Back for a visit after having moved to Detroit -- with Dad, Mom, Fiance.
Our hero has already changed and fiance sees it.

We follow Dr. Singh through his crises of doubt, his disappointments with his work and life in the U.S., the various temptations in personal relationships and disobedience to the tenets of his faith, his confusion about his own identity. He's really a good guy, very empathetic, and being handsome doesn't hurt in our desire to root for him. Actually, our hopes for him reflect more about who we are as immigrant children, grand children or great grandchildren than the merits of his choice one way or the other. Meaning, we either want him to assimilate or remain true to his heritage -- as we have.

I myself descend from a faith that was targeted for genocide, I faced prejudice and bigotry, I welcomed acceptance and acculturation at the cost of religious practice and tradition. I am a product of the great melting pot. This may or may not be our protagonist's choice. It might be interesting for you to take this journey with him and see if you are in agreement with him or not in his ultimate choice

Séraphine (2008)
Director: Martin Provost
Co-Writers; Martin Provost, Marc Abdelnoir
Cast: Yolande Moreau, Ulrich Tukur, Anne Bennent
Producers: Milena Poylo, Gilles Sacuto
Time: 125 minutes
French with English subtitles
Unrated

This is the fictionalized story of a fat, middle aged, unattractive woman who works hard for a living doing manual labor. Really! I'm hooked. I want to watch this and discover what makes her film-worthy. What is her inner life? What secrets does she hold?Séraphine Louis lived from 1864 to 1942, most of her life as a servant, launderess, and maid. She came from the lowest class in her town of Senlis, France, and was treated accordingly -- with disdain if at all. When not working, she spent her little free time painting flowers in her small rented room. She said she was told by the angels to paint. So, there is already an inkling of insanity in her behavior when the film starts, shortly before World War I. A well known German art collector and critic rents a house in the countryside near her and she is hired to keep the place clean. Purely by accident, he sees her work and recognizes its merit.

Séraphine (Yolande Moreau) is finally appreciated
for her work by art critic (Ulrich Tukur)

One could possibly say Séraphine was a victim of poor timing. Already close to 50 years old, her talent is discovered shortly before WWI by a German who must flee the country for his life. He all but forgets her after the war when his sister runs into her work in a small Senlis art show and reminds him of his previous high hopes for Séraphine. He encourages Séraphine to continue her art and give up the drudgery of manual labor, and becomes her patron. But before she can achieve the fame she deserves, the 1939 economic crash throws not only the U.S., but Europe and most of the world into crisis. There's not much art buying during the Great Depression. During the course of her life, especially after she becomes recognized as an artist, she slowly and gently drifts into insanity. I question: was it artistic recognition that effected her mind, or to put it another way, did her ego literally get the better of her mind; did intense exposure to oil paints in her unventilated room cause brain damages (many say Van Gogh was effected by too much chromium yellow fumes); did the pressures of her upbringing as a have-not cause irreparable damage to her psyche at an early age; did accumulated disappointment in her personal life and artistic career push her over the edge? All are possibilities. None are explored other than to present the circumstances of her life. I have to say I was almost disappointed to see she had a genius for something -- a talent that made her special. I really wanted to explore the life of an ordinary, not-attractive, older woman who, due her culture and circumstances, had no hope of reprieve from drudgery and ultimately a lonely death. I empathized with her. I wanted to love her for who she was -- an overlooked and forgotten human being who by accident of birth suffered poverty and isolation. But no, just another brilliant artist who should have received recognition for her paintings.

Still, it's wonderful to finally discover Séraphine Louis and to enjoy her beautiful, vibrant, "insect like", moving flowers. How does a culture or a world democratize art so it can be seen by the world, artists can receive the acclaim they deserve whether they are male or female, critically acclaimed or not, with the appropriate background and education or not? Silly me -- the Internet, of course. I would be remiss if I didn't direct you all to my sister's website: www.bonniesteiger.com/ssyindex.htm . It just so happens, I personally know and am blood related to an artist with the genius and vision on par with Séraphine Louis, if I say so myself. How could you not take a peek at her etchings?

Bruno (2009)
Director: Larry Charles
Writers: Sacha Baron Cohen, Anthony Hines, Dan Mazur, Jeff Schaffer
Cast: Sacha Baron Cohen, Gustaf Hammasten, Clifford Bañagale
Producers: Sacha Baron Cohen, Monica Levinson, Dan Mazer, Jay Roach
Time: 83 min
Rated: R

The film, Bruno, concentrates on this Austrian model’s sexuality and need for fame. Cast out of Europe’s hip social circles, he goes to America to seek fame. He tries many different strategies, including hosting a celebrity talk show (I know that doesn’t work); brokering peace in the Middle East; representing a “cause” like global warming or the Rain Forest or AIDS, whatever is hottest right now; adopting an African baby; even going straight since so many famous people are. His naivety represents the gullibility of the American and world public, the people he recruits to help him represent the manipulators and power brokers. Both sides are greedy, self serving, and extremely stupid -- but one side has all the money and the other side wants it. Am I taking too grand a view of this film? I’m sure Sacha Baron Cohen considered this view while he and his colleagues wrote it.I hear the European version of Bruno is more explicit than the American version. That’s okay. I don’t need more details -- I get it, more than get it, got it up to here. And then some. There are only a couple of black overlay boxes to protect the audience’s sensibilities during amusing sex scenes. I was glad the boxes were there. Anything that is in the European version that isn’t in the American version is just more porn and certainly not necessary to the story.

By the way, I know a lot of the situations and scenes were done with actors. How do I know? ‘Cause nobody was laughing at Bruno’s antics in the film. You may be a straight laced bigot or an outraged audience member of a talk show, but if you don’t crack a smile, you have to be from Central Casting.

After all, everybody watching this film will be laughing hysterically. Is it only because we know Sacha Baron Cohen is acting or because the characters are getting paid to not laugh and have practiced in rehearsal?

Bottom line, Cohen blows our collective mind yet again. I didn’t think he could top Borat, but he did. This film is consistently outrageously funny, out loud belly laugh funny, drop jaw “he isn’t really doing that” funny.

$9.99 (2008)
Director/Co-writer: Tatia Rosenthal
Co-writer: Etgar Keret from his short story
Puppetmaster: Phillip Beadsmoore
Cast of Voices: Geoffrey Rush, Samuel Johnson, Claudia Karvan, Ben Mendelsohn, Leon Ford, Barry Otto, Leeanna Walsman, Henry Nixon
Time: 78 minutes
Rated: RIn this stop-motion animated feature from Israel (director-co-writer and writer) and Australia (production), we delve into the lives of several tenants of a building: the father of two adult sons whose wife left him, the old widower, the child who longs for a soccer hero action figure, the super model, the pregnant teacher and her Lebowski-like boyfriend, and other assorted characters including an angel who doesn't seem to have much purpose

on earth other than bumming yet another cigarette and a dollar for a cup of coffee. Though only silicon puppets who suffer the limitations of stop-reposition-shoot, stop-reposition-shoot machinations, these characters do come to life because of the sensitive script and masterful voices, as well as top of the line animators. (On a petty note, all the figures' mouth shapes really annoyed me, even distracted me. I don't get what the director was going for.) The characters' problems are real, their feelings authentic; some solve them, others can't or won't. As for the title, $9.99 is the cost of a book which delineates the meaning of life. One of the characters buys and reads it, but his only comment while chuckling over the book was, "Aha, there are really 6 meanings of life." Rather cryptic, but little more was said about the book or it's contents. One point that may have been made by the film, and I'm only guessing, is that you might find the meaning of life in any book, even in one that describes how to swim like a dolphin. This is not a heavy handed or moralistic treatise on how to live one's life, but a glimpse into the lives of people just like us, people we know or are or love or overlook.

This is a poignant, tender, philosophical film that doesn't get soppy or corny. It's not for children since the angel is foul mouthed and there are a couple of nude sex scenes -- an animation frontier already crossed by "Team America: World Police" (2004) as well as the underground Barbie and Ken porn video made some years earlier. By the way, I couldn't find that film on IMDb.

Blood: The Last Vampire (2009)
Director: Chris Nahon
Writer: Chris Chow
Cast: Gianna, Allison Miller, Liam Cunningham, JJ Field, Koyuki, Yasuaki Kurata
Producer: Bill Kong
Director of Photography: Poon Hang Sang
Time: 89 min.
Rated: RSaya (Gianna) is just another half human, half vampire who decided early on, due in great part to her trusty servant/mentor/supernatural warrior, to kill vampires rather than join them. She has a tenuous partnership with a U.S. covert organization whose purpose is to save humanity (a refreshing change from most U.S. covert organizations). They tell her where the vampires have been spotted and help give her cover as well as blood for sustenance from a source she doesn't question, and she kills the vampires. She doesn't want to bother with the low level vampires, seeking the head honcha vampire, Onigen (Koyuki) who was responsible for her father's death. I can't blame Saya; in situations where she had to fight countless hoards of vampires, either in the guise of mad street mobs or elite, disciplined, black clad Ninjas, she mows them down with her mighty sword like so much crab grass.While at a U.S. Army base in Japan closing in on more vamps, she is befriended by an Army brat teenage girl, Alice (Allison Miller). Thus, we as observers in this English language adventure have an inside perspective and don't have to be distracted by subtitles. Okay, that is quite enough plot.

The film's title's first word, "Blood," tells it all. There is a newly developed special effect of wondrously artistic and ebullient blood splatter which is the true centerpiece of the film. I am not a gore or violence enthusiast, but that splatter was so damned pretty, especially in slow-mo, that I had this stupid, beatific grin on my face during all the many, many violent massacres. How lovely, how calming, how mesmerizing. But more than that, the whole film was shot with such artistic care (thanks to DP Poon Hang Sang) -- a step beyond even "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon." Remember those final fight scenes of CTHD in the forest with the protagonists floating above the foliage? This is that and more thanks to French director Chris Nahon's success as a commercial and music video director.

I don't know much about Japanese historic icons in art, mysticism, ghost folklore, etc., but a deeper part of me recognized the core traditional images -- and I'm Slavic. Go figure. From our brooding heroine in the basic Japanese schoolgirl uniform that suggests a sailor suit to the ghostlike villainess in traditional Japanese costume whose long, embroidered, silken panels gently flow on an unearthly breeze around her, from the dark, busy streets of an old Tokyo to the idealized village nestled in a verdant valley -- I was hypnotized and carried away by the images, music, modulated voices of the characters, and swordplay. Ah, don't forget the splatter that accented every scene, reminding us there is an unseen war taking place, as it has for centuries, deciding the fate of all us blood bags, our heads merely corks to be blown out so that gorgeous splatter can somehow be collected. I could easily see this film played in slow motion or even a frame a second on a large flat screen in a museum as a work of art.

Downloading Nancy (2008)
Director: Johan Renck
Writers: Pamela Cuming, Lee Ross
Cast: Maria Bello, Jason Patric, Rufus Sewell, Amy Brenneman
Time: 102 min.
Not rated

Sometimes people are so damaged by their childhood experiences of sexual and emotional brutality that there's just no healing, there's no way to be among the living, there's only constant suffering and dreams of release to whatever the afterlife may bring. Christian heaven -- that may be too wonderful to hope for. Buddhist nothingness -- a welcome blessing. Having another chance through reincarnation is too scary -- "can't do this again."

So, don't misinterpret the title, "Downloading Nancy," as some cutesy, lite comedy about a computer generated girl or a dating service that brings our hero and heroine together. Nancy (Maria Bello), a self-mutilating, depressed married woman who only gets criticism and icy chills from her husband (Rufus Sewell), finds a chat room companion (Jason Patric) who is an ideal mate. He will sympathize with her, hurt her, kill her.

We also sympathize with Nancy. She's a lovely woman who not only couldn't defend herself against her uncle as a child nor convince her punishing mother she was telling the truth about him (all told to us by Nancy, relieving us of having to watch it in flashbacks), but her ensuing lack of self-esteem and inability to trust and love leads her to an unfufilling marriage in which there is no sanctuary. We want her to heal, be well, learn to trust again. We place ourselves inside her therapist (Amy Bremmerman), trying so hard to be supportive and patient, to say the right things that will make Nancy realize that there is life after abuse.

We watch her and her husband have dinner at home, go to a business event, to go sleep. They have nothing to say to each other. Whatever has deteriorated their relationship over the years, it's work is done. Only polite bitterness and angst ridden outbursts are left. We meet her computer date and follow them through their evening together, hoping his common views, passion, compassion, respect will save her. We are on the edge through every moment of their time together. Will he hurt her, kill her, bring her back from her destitution to a desire to live? Though outwardly a quite film, my heart pounds through all of it. A point is reached where some of you give up on Nancy, others hope against hope she can get on a path to recovery. Then the film takes a sharp turn and the two men in Nancy's life, her husband a lover, confront each other. But it's not so much a thriller at this point as a psychological confrontation -- the "normal" husband who has no more patience or love for his wife opposing the "S/M sicko" who only wants to satisfy Nancy (and his own dark needs). Yes, this is a depressing movie. Why go see it? Americans like to escape at the movies, see mindless drivel, slapstick antics, cartoon-like violence, big orange explosions. I can only say this story is a realistic depiction of the suffering caused by abuse, and may strike a cord with many who suffer and those who love them. The cast, Bello, Sewell and Patric, are all consummate actors who handle this very difficult material with multi-layered subtlety.

It's obvious that both a woman and a man had to have written this film to get the perspectives of the characters so right on. I wouldn't have been surprised if Pamela Cuming and Lee Ross had gone through similar experiences. But, as the press notes explain, "both survived successful careers in front of audiences -- Cuming as an actor and playwright and Lee as a clown with Cirque du Soliel." They must have plummed depths other than their own, and I'm relieved for them. And need I say the film is directed by a Swede, Johan Renck who enjoys a worldwide, very successful career in commercials and music clips, this being his feature film debut? This is a powerful, insightful, compassionate view of a suicidal woman. Enter at your own risk.

LAND OF THE LOST (2009)
Director: Brad Silberling
Writers: Chris Henchy, Dennis McNicholas
Cast: Will Farrell, Anna Friel, Danny McBride, Jorma Tacconem, Matt Lauer,
Time: 1:33
Rated: PG13
Reviewed by Karen Aziz "In Land of the Lost," Dr. Rick Marshall, played by Will Ferrell, comes up with a theory about using tachyons to travel through time, space, and dimensions. He builds a machine to help him do this, and with the encouragement of Ann Friel’s character, Holly Cantrell, a graduate student impressed with his theories, he turns on the “time machine”. Both he, Cantrell, and a third character, Will Stanton, played by Danny McBride, get thrown into some kind of other world/dimension/future. As they seek a way to return to modern-day Earth, they run up against a variety of creatures that either help them or hinder (i.e. want to kill) them. I can say no more.I never watched the TV series of the same name, so if you’re a fan of the series and want to know how the film compares, or doesn’t compare, I have no idea. However, if you enjoy sci-fi films combined with action adventure and comedy and if you enjoy Will Ferrell’s shtick, then you’ll certainly enjoy this film. I thought the film was funny, a tad scary, and altogether lots of fun. It also had great graphics and animation. Sure, the jokes weren’t the freshest and Will Ferrell can be a bit tiresome, but on the whole, I thought the plot, the characters, the actors, and the dialogue all blended very well. Ferrell’s male sidekick, played by Danny McBride, brought a fresh twist to the role of moronic helper. FEMINIST CAVEAT
My biggest objection to this film is how women are used. Holly Cantrell’s only raison d’etre is to worship and help Dr. Marshall. Of course, it doesn’t hurt that she’s an unbelievably gorgeous, intelligent woman. Which brings up the question; why does she fall in love with Dr. Marshall the moment she sees him? Dr. Marshall has proven himself to be a pompous, irritating, know-it-all, who is not particularly attractive. Yeah, that’s the kind of guy I go for!

It seems that in movies and TV the only possible female love interest for a man has to be gorgeous, no matter what he looks like. So we get pairings of incredibly old, or overweight, or nerdy guys that hook up with Scarlett Johannsen, or Amy Adams, or whatever hot, young, female actor is around. Also, Holly Cantrell adds almost nothing to the plot. There’s a bit at the end, where she actually does something, but largely, it seems she’s there so the hetero men can put their hands on her breasts and make jokes about female body parts and prove that they’re not gay.In addition, female inhabitants of this particular dimension/planet/whatever are described to be bedmates for the top primate, Chaka. He describes them as being ugly, yet when at the very end we see them on screen, they are all long-haired, long-limbed beauties who show themselves to be eager to have sex with both Chaka and Will Stanton. Do they do anything else? Do they have any other function beside providing sexual pleasure for these two imbeciles? (Well, actually Chaka is not an imbecile; he’s just a monkey man,) Will Stanton is an imbecile and Chaka looks mostly like a monkey with a little human-type face and very bad teeth. The woman have no monkey-like features at all. What they do have is beautiful teeth, makeup, lip gloss, salon-styled hair, and a cute little loin cloth covering what loin cloths usually cover.

However, with that caveat aside, I do recommend this movie. It’s light-hearted, fun, and creatively uses Will Ferrell’s biggest strength as a comic actor: he is not afraid to make a total ass of himself. However, if he wants to keep on showing his body, he really needs to get to a gym.

My Life In Ruins (2009)
Director: Donald Petrie
Writer: Mike Reiss
Exec Producers: Tom Hanks, Rita Wilson
Cast: Nia Vardalos, Richard Dreyfuss, Alexis Georgoluis
Time: 1:36
Rated: PG13

I have never enjoyed comedy based on stereotypes. It’s too easy to poke fun at people who are clichés, and they don’t really exist anyway. The obnoxious American, the hot Spanish divorcees, the loud and raucous Australians, the stuck up English woman, the pathetic old people. It lacks subtlety and true humor based on the ironies of the human condition. I’m not into slapstick either, but that’s a complaint for another movie. But the plot “My Life In Ruins” is based on tired, old, themes of humanizing characters initially portrayed as clichés and a woman becoming happy (and giving up all higher goals) when she falls in love.Talk about clichés -- when a TV is on in the background, which happens several times, the only thing seen is “Zorba the Greek.” Please.....

Nia Verdalos (still known for “My Big Fat Greek Wedding”) plays an American of Greek heritage who came to Greece to teach classic Greek history in the university (as if there weren’t enough home growns to do it), but looses her job and while searching for another, she takes up tour guiding. The international trailer park, uneducated, disinterested group she tours takes no interest in anything other than eating ice cream and shopping. Again, please.... The tour bus driver, a veritable Greek god in his own right (Alexis Georgoulis), wants nothing more out of life than to the drive the bus and get closer to Nia. After all those unending, soft focus, languid close ups of her, we get the point. She is a beautiful woman (much thinner than in “....Greek Wedding” who simply needs to get laid to solve all the problems in her life. Actually, everyone in the film with any problem needs to get laid to fine resolution to all his or her ills. This includes the very elderly gentleman who needs a walker to perambulate to a very underage adolescent girl.

Richard Dreyfuss’ stereotype is the older man of wisdom who spouts little philosophical jewels and may even have supernatural powers with which to help people.What got me through this film were the beautiful backdrops that are Greece: the ruins, the sea and sky as a backdrop to the little white and blue villages perched along the dry, jutting hills. And one joke that still makes me chuckle, I’m ashamed to say -- the bus driver’s name is Poupi Caca. Say it and savor it. Poupi Caca.

If you want to see a foreign woman’s experience in and of Greece, in a film that is funny and wonderful, please rent “Shirley Valentine” (1989). It will inspire all dissatisfied, incomplete, unhappy women of all ages to move to Greece. At best, “My Life In Ruins,” will inspire you to get coffee and cake after the film to feel better.

Big Man Japan (2007)
Director/co-writer: Hitoshi Matsumoto
Co-writer: Mitsuyoshi Takasu
Cast: Hitashi Matsumoto, Riki Takeuchi, Ua, Ryunosuke Kamiki, Haruka Unabara, Takayuki Haranishi
Rated: PG 13
Time: 113 minutes

Of course, "Big Man Japan" will be compared to "Hancock," the Will Smith vehicle about a socially inept, reluctant and ostracized super hero. Daisato, who comes from a line of super heros, he being the sixth, does not enjoy the renown, adoration or wealth that his forebears did. It is suggested the line began due to the radiation from the bombs dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki. We don't really learn why Daisato is so scorned. I'm sure all super heros fighting monsters in Japan racked up as much collateral damage as Daisato does. But these days, the populace is fed up with the mess, the loss of wild birds, and the havoc caused when Daisato does his government sanction and paid job.

What's interesting about "Big Man Japan"'s approach is it uses the mockumentary format, which even includes archival footage. An off-camera voice tentatively asks questions of the hero who looks more like a dejected, homeless man. He answers slowly, carefully, and often only revealing part truths if any at all. While he is interviewed, rocks from angry neighbors crash through the windows of his less than modest abode. He doesn't even notice since he is so used to the abuse by the public. If he is not considered an unwanted pariah, he is anonymous. The local chef where Daisato eats 3 times a week doesn't even know who he is. The people on the street who are asked their opinion of him are very convincingly realistic and all their responses about him are negative. It's the authenticity and realism of this "documentary" that adds so much humor to it. It's dry, straightforward and hysterical. His family life; his relationship with his employer, the Department of Defense; his tribulations with his agent and her insistence he wear brand names for advertising revenue; his childhood -- all are explored. We sympathize, but we can't help laughing.

The most fun in the film is watching Daisato battle the myriad of monstrous creatures. With advances in special effects technology, those fights in the obvious cardboard skyscraper sets of urban Japan are no longer confined to men in rubber outfits of T-Rexs or gorillas. The threatening creatures and Daisato himself are computer creations of humorous imagination though the sets are still as flimsy and fake as ever -- this time intentional since they are software created. In one scene Daisato picks up a truck and throws it at a monster. It sounds like a plastic toy. I assume this is a sentimental tribute to the traditional monster movies of Japan which started with the best, "Godzilla."

Still, much of the film is very, very slow -- from Daisato's speech which belies how rarely he converses with anyone to his walking down the street to get to his house or a power station to get charged up for a battle. The electrical charges change him from a meek, mild mannered, middle-aged man to a multi-storied tall, pudgy, stick wielding protector of Japan. Also, the last 20 minutes of the film make absolutely no sense to me whatsoever. Why introduce characters that aren't supposed to exist anymore per earlier discussion in the film? And the long, drawn out bickering through the credits was repetitious and annoying. If you do see "Big Man Japan," know that there is nothing worth waiting for during or after the credits. It will just ruin the good feelings you may have for the film.

Departures (2008)
Director: Yojiro Takita
Writer: Kundo Koyama
Cast: Masahiro Motoki, Tzutomu Yamazaki, Ryoko Hirosue, Kazuko Yoshiyuki, Kimiko Yo, Takashi Sasano

After having seen every episode of Six Feet Under and CSI, as well as the first season of Dexter, I didn’t think there was much more I could glean from a film about dealing with the dead. Sure, we’re taken to several body preparations, where, as customary in Japan, the family and friends witness the ritualistic ablutions, as opposed to the private, tile roomed basement of the American mortuary which includes embalming. And in a social context, people are even more uncomfortable being around a mortician in Japan than they are in the U.S. Our hero’s wife leaves him because of the stigma associated with preparing the dead. But this is more a story of a cellist who gives up his music career, moves back to his deceased mother’s town and house and takes the very well paying though highly distressing job.

When our hero, Daigo (played by Masahiro Motoki), was 6 years old, his father abandoned him and his mother. It’s not so much that he never got over it as he wrote the man off and has continued on with his life. He’s married to a very sweet, patient and loving wife. Though the symphony he worked with was dissolved, he and his wife are making a go of it in his hometown with his new career which he tries to hide from her. His boss is the inscrutable Asian, wise and philosophical, saying little, imparting much (he’d make Pat Morita in his “Karate Kid” role proud). But over the course of his adjusting to his new career path, we question just how much his childhood may actually be effecting his present life.

This is a lovely film, verging on the overly sentimental -- a flock of swans punctuates the schmaltz. I’m a total sap for cello solos and there are a few very moving ones. Reverence for the dead, displayed in its various forms, plucks at our compassion and own sense of mortality. Bring a hankie -- one should suffice.

Apprentice watches Mentor undress, wash and redress
a body in preparation for it's Departure without seeing any
skin and in front of assembled family and friends.

Changes from my previous experience with Japanese movies: The young couple’s apartment in Tokyo is spacious and well accoutered. How refreshing after all the shoe box, not to be confused with boot box, living spaces seen in most Japanese films. Their bed is above the floor, and includes a big mattress, fluffy pillows and voluminous comforter. The Japanese gave us the futon, a lumpy, heavy bed bug haven as revenge for losing WWII, but at least now they’re enjoying a good night’s sleep. By the way, I never saw a futon in a Japanese film. They usually sleep on straw mats with a sheet of rice paper covering their bodies, and a 2 x 4 under their heads. Ouch! And I’m not talking just historical Japanese films, but contemporary ones. In the office scenes, the secretary drinks tea English style with cup (with handle) and saucer and a strainer for the tea leaves. Now I know Japanese culture is dead. Incidentally, our mortician prepared bodies in pretty much the same way for all of his clients even though they practiced a variety of religions. Nice touch.

Little Ashes (2008)
Director: Paul Morrison
Writer, Co-Producer: Phillippa Goslett
Cast: Robert Pattinson, Javier Beltran, Matthew McNulty, Marina Gatell

I pride myself on having a lot of general knowledge. Like a textbook Gemini (if you can call a book on astrology a text book), I dabble and flit around lots of subjects, not specializing in anything. I am very familiar with Salvador Dali, his melted watch surrealism, his maternal relationship with his wife, his party-going in the 60’s in New York where I’d often ran into him. I know Garcia Lorca’s plays and fastidiously read through them looking for audition monologues

I might use (never did; they were too depressing). I watched Luis Bunuel’s films, cut goat;’s eye, cockroach sandwich and all. Yet I didn’t realize they all knew each other, went to art school together, and had evolving, tumultuous relationships. It was very elucidating and interesting learning about their relationships to each other and to their times in Spain. All three are formulating their art through painting, filmmaking and literature, tempered by each other’s influence, which runs the gamut from intellectual discourse through sexual passion, as well as their social environment, which includes social repression and the impending Spanish Civil War. Each takes a different path. This is not only historically informative, but beautifully shot and sensitively acted. I have to admit, I was not too happy seeing the civil war that decimated the population and ended in totalitarianism for the next 50 years depicted as a struggle for homosexual liberation. Yes, it was that, but so much more. The view was myopic and unbalanced. It is also very difficult to have a flowing, coherent film when covering a large time span. It often tends to turn significant moments into tableaus, sacrificing a flowing story line for salient moments which may even seem out of context. Unfortunately, I found much of this film jarring in its selection of what the writer and director decided where the brief moments to focus in on. And some scenes were just simply jarring. We see a tragedy taking place in the countryside, then jump to a bar in the city where friends are laughing and drinking, back to the countryside to see more of the tragedy, back to the bar where the friends are listening to a news report of the tragedy. They stand up, make a toast and cry. Huh?

“Little Ashes” hones in on three gifted men’s relationships, two of whom are lovers. They are historic figures tangled in dangerous political times. The choices they make in the face of political and social pressures inform us of who they are as men and well as artists. This is a flawed film with high artistic and biographic aspiration.

Monsters vs. Aliens (2009)
Directors: Rob Letterman, Conrad Vernon
Writers: Maya Forbes, Wallance Wolodarsky
Cast: Reese Witherspoon, Hugh Laurie, Keifer Sutherland, Seth Rogen, Will Arnett, Rainn Wilson, Stephen Colbert, Paul Rudd, Julie White, Jeffrey Tambor, Amy Poehler, Ed Holmes, Renee Zellweger
Rated: PG

Well, it happened again. How many times have we all gone unsuspecting into a theater to enjoy a film, be it a mystery, comedy, drama or, in this case, a feature 3-D animation, and suddenly find ourselves transported to, of all places, San Francisco? It’s got to happen more often to us than any other city’s citizens. Well, partly, it’s due to movie trailers making it clear when a film takes place in New York or Los Angeles and the audience is prepared for it. Or if a film does take place in New York or Los Angeles, we expect it because so many films are actually shot and set in those cities. But it is a delicious surprise every time we watch a film unfold on the screen, and up pops the Golden Gate Bridge or some other familiar landmark.This time it was even better because San Francisco looks absolutely fantastic in 3-D animation. We fly over a slightly altered bridge, watch Mt. Tam pass to our left, glide down to a Crissy Fields road, only to see the Pyramid Building loom large before us. We are even given the sage advice, “Go hide in the city, but stay out of the Tenderloin. It could be dicey.” This is a Dreamworks production, not Pixar. Neither Speilberg, his associates, the writers nor directors hail from San Francisco. But boy, they got it right.Yes, there is also a kind of plot that rings familiar: an alien wants to inhabit Earth causing the extinction of all present life. Marginalized outcasts of society, in the form of monsters, are called upon to save us all. These monsters are also very recognizable, especially to Sci Fi buffs. We have the blob; a scientist intentionally self-semi-transformed like the Fly, but this time to a cockroach who has a better chance surviving any earthly catastrophe; the missing link who now sports a back fin; a moth reminiscent of the insects enlarged by exposure to radiation; and our star, the 50 foot woman.

And we have lots of famous actors voicing these characters. I quickly get bored trying to attach the voice to the character, so the names listed above are of little importance to me. Unknowns who often depict cartoon, oops, I mean animated characters, are just as good and perhaps interfere less with the suspension of disbelief.

In the screening I attended, it seemed the audience really enjoyed the film since there was not one incidence of a crying, bored kid being hauled out of the theater. In fact, it was pretty much silent throughout. I’m sure this was due to the action -- lots of fighting, flying around and assorted acrobatics -- and the colorful and quite beautiful graphics. Balls being tossed by characters at the audience with the latest convincing 3-D technology certainly kept the little ones riveted to their seats. Admittedly, I was also glued in place, if not by the tried and true plot, then wholly by the artistry of the look of the film. And don’t forget, it’s always fun being surprised by San Francisco locations. Okay, you won’t be surprised, but at least you know you should see “Monsters vs. Aliens” to see it.

He’s Just Not That Into You (2009)
Director: Ken Kwapis
Writers: Abby Kohn, Marc Silverstein
From the book by Greg Behrendt and Liz Tuccillo
Cast: Ben Affleck, Jennifer Anniston, Drew Barrymore, Jennifer Connelly, Kevin Connolly, Bradley Cooper, Ginnifer Goodwin, Scarlett Johansson, Justin Long. Kris Kristofferson
Producers: Drew Barrymore

Goodwin desperate to find the man Anniston
desperate to marry hers Connelly oblivious in her marriage

I’ve been ruminating and cogitating about “He’s Just Not That Into You,” for a couple of days now, and end up with the opinion that Hollywood was probably trying to impart in a human yet realistic way how women and men desperately try to be happy in relationships with each other. Of course, Tinsletown, can only be so insightful, and then it pulls back to the obvious, the comfortable, the simplistic and the ultimate happy endings for the leads, empathy for the “good” supporting players, and just deserts for the “ignoble” ones. I could even tell you the exact point where the film moves into it’s resolution stage and ties up all the plot lines in a “socially acceptable and reaffirming” fashion. That’s when I felt my lungs empty with resignation that nothing outside the envelop was going to happen here.

Men still pretty much want to avoid commitment, or even second dates. Women desperately need to find guys who will marry them. It’s all so prosaic, so unchanged, ho hum. There are some very cute, pithy cliches which warn women that men are not going to call them back, and once-removed testimonials about the exceptions to the general rules. We run the gamut from happily married woman, to happy, unmarried woman living with her man, to woman desperately trying to find a man, to woman who doesn’t care if the man is already married, and the men who interact with them. It’s light, it’s amusing, it’s well acted by all, it’s ultimately confirming of all the old stereotypes we grew up with and have tried so hard to break out of. There really isn’t anything more to say about it.

Hotel for Dogs (2009)
Writer/Director: Thor Freudenthal
Screenplay: Jeff Lowell, Bob Schooley and Mark McCorkle
Cast: Emma Roberts, Don Cheadle, Jake T. Austin, Lisa Kudrow, Kevin Dillon, Kyla Pratt, Johnny Simmons, Troy Gentile
Rated: G

Let the children come and fall in love with dogs. Let them understand there are too many dogs without homes who are in danger of being killed in shelters. (All right, they're being killed in the thousands every day in this country, but that's not clear in this G-rated film.) Let them learn to love and appreciate homeless dogs. Take your children to "Hotel for Dogs."The story goes -- sister and brother orphans, Andi and Bruce (Emma Roberts and Jake T. Austin) are hiding their family dog from their foster parents (Lisa Kudrow and Kevin Dillon), a couple of wanna be rock musicians who lock the food up and share no love with the forlorn waifs. The kids' adorable terrier, who they hide from their foster parents, is captured by the dogcatcher and when they go to the shelter to pick him up, they realize the problem so many dogs face once picked up by the system. The parallels are inescapable and the children's hearts go out to canines in even more dire situations than themselves. With Cosmo's (their dog) help, they find an abandoned hotel and, with the help of their pet store employee friends and another dude (Kyla Pratt, Johnny Simmons, Troy Gentile) start collecting, saving, feeding, exercising and training homeless dogs. Bruce's inventive Rube Goldberg-type machines help in the process. Don Cheadle is the good man from social services trying to do the best he can for these orphaned good-kids.

The dogs in this film learn how to poop in toilets, all get along, enjoy doing wonderful tricks and exhibit perfect behavior throughout. Okay, this is not a documentary, but obviously made by dog lovers, as demonstrated in the closing credits. There seems to be a need for bad guys, so the shelter workers get the thankless roles (in actuality shelter workers are often given free psychiatric counseling because the constant killing of so many healthy, affectionate, loving dogs is so hard on them).

Two-thirds of the dogs, around 70 including mutts and pure breeds of various ages, were found in rescues, including Cosmo who, with two other very similar looking Jack Russell Terriers, played Friday, the canine star of the film -- that's the fluffy white guy who belongs to the kids. All were trained by Mark Forbes of Birds and Animals Unlimited in very few months, and no special effects were used in the film. That really tells something about the capabilities of all dogs, including dogs scooped up from the streets and surrendered due to economic and/or "behavioral" problems.

Of all I've done in my life, the proudest is having fostered 25 dogs. Unlike in this film, I only had 1 or 2 at a time and it took a few years, but I saved 25 lives and would still be doing it if the owner of my building hadn't put her very loud, adament and incontrovertable foot down. My own dog was found roaming the streets of San Jose and was kept in a shelter for 2 weeks before she could be released to a rescue where I found her. It's been 8 ½ years and we're still loving every moment together.

This was a really fun romp, a wish-fulfillment film in which we get to save all the animals, and the kids find security and love. Aw, let your children share in the joy of it all and enjoy some time with the wonderful creatures dogs are. I would give anything to have a Hotel for Dogs -- it's pretty much my fantasy. Spay and neuter your pets, donate to animal rescues, never buy from breeders or pet stores. Okay, I've had my say.

Last Chance Harvey (2008)
Writer/Director: Joel Hopkins
Cast: Dustin Hoffman, Emma Thompson, Eileen Atkins, Kathy Baker, Liane Balaban, James Brolin, Richard Schiff, Tim Howard
Rated: PG13 for language
92 min.

It's one thing to be an outsider. You're looking from the outside to where people are enjoying themselves, having good conversations, good relationships, a good time. Okay, it's kind of sad being alone and watching from a distance. But being inside and not being a part of a social occasion is hell. Good people around you, even trying to engage you, but you just don't belong, you are not a part of this group in find yourself in -- that's hell!Kate Walker (Emma Thompson) is on a blind date with an obviously younger man. They awkwardly try to carry on a conversation. He's a nice guy; nothings wrong, it's just not right. Then friends of his run into him at the bar and join them. Kate can find no way to fit in, even though the young group tries to include her. She is just not part of their social set, their time and place. Oh, the pain.But that is nothing to Harvey Shine's (Dustin Hoffman) experience. First, he comes to London to go to his daughter's wedding. His ex-wife (Kathy Baker) has rented a house for the whole wedding party -- except him. So, he's alone in the hotel. At the dinner the night before the wedding, he has to listen to the stories of the whole family's fun in Italy the year before. He's seated at the end of the table furthest away from bride and groom. He is obviously not a part of this family. His daughter even tells him she'd like to be given away by her step father (James Brolin) than him since stepdad has become such an integral part of her family. Harvey is redundant and superfluous. Feels like all eyes are on him while at the same time no one looks at him or acknowledges his existence. I feel for this guy; I've been there.

These two lost souls meet and Harvey quickly recognizes there is hope and potential joy with this new woman. He doggedly, more puppyishly, pursues her. There is quiet peace and acceptance between them, there is redemption for them, after a few rough spots there is the promise of happiness.

Dustin Hoffman and Emma Thompson at the wedding reception
after finally selecing the little black cocktail dress.

There are some typically Hollywood weak spots I wish weren't in the film, like the dress shopping montage. May I never have to watch another dress shopping or audition or walking on the beach and being in love montages again as long as I live! A wedding reception continues far too long while waiting for Dustin to reach the conclusion -- with Emma's help -- to return to it (this time was wasted in part with the shopping montage). We can all pretty much tell the guy sitting next to us what will happen in each succeeding scene. Don't bother; he knows, too. But it's a warm film about mature people who are trying desperately to keep on keeping on. I'm glad for both of them that they are no longer desperate, but happy.Nice to see Eileen Atkins playing Emma's mother. It's great casting since they look so much alike, even though Phyllidia Law, also a wonderful actress, is her actual motherand played her mom in "Winter People" (1997). Also nice to see that even though Emma couldn't relate to her young blind date and was able to more easily accept a much older Dustin (ah, such is our culture...), Eileen hints at a relationship with a much younger next-door neighbor.

Timecrimes (2007)
Writer/Director: Nacho Vigalondo
Cast: Karra Elejalde, Barbara Goenaga, Nacho Vigalondo, Candela Fernandez.

The Spanish tend to make thought provoking, interesting, mature films. On the face of it, “Timecrimes” is such a film. A man returns to his charming, bucolic home and his loving wife after doing some nursery shopping for the garden. Life is relaxing, uncomplicated; he’s probably retired or on vacation and using the time to unwind and catch up with home projects like his wife’s gardening. While she’s away shopping for tonight’s dinner, he spies a pair fo tits through his binoculars off in the wooded distance. Oh, boy. A man, binoculars and tits. We’re in trouble. His brain has now fallen below his waist and no good can come of it. His adventure down the rabbit hole includes a time machine and one thoughtless mistake after another -- until I’m about to scream “Somebody shoot this guy and end this film now!”In his relentless effort to undo the harm he’s done, he just keeps stepping on his own dick -- so to speak. I don’t understand why he does much of the things he does. Could it be a case of sheer stupidity on the part of the screenwriter to propel the plot -- the lowest form of writing usually accepted and expected in horror screamers about campers and angry spirits who seek revenge? Has the exhaulted Spanish filmmaking community sunken this low?

Karra Elejalde being helped out of the woods by Barbara Goenaga
only to return again to even more dire consequences.

And yet, the film looks so good, the acting so professional, the cinematography so moody and accurate for the subject matter. What an unsettling combination of bad script choices with all the other factors that make for a good film. I am so confused, but I refuse to be fooled! “Timecrimes” is an exercise in frustration for the viewer -- the main character doing incredibly thoughtless, stupid things for no appearent reason and compounding the stupidity with every opportunity to right them by going back in time. The moral of the story is -- if you nave the opportunity to go back in time, don’t! You’ll just fuck it up no matter how smart you are. Or maybe going back in time effects your brain and makes you a moron. Or maybe writing a movie about going back in time makes you a moron. Somebody stop me!

The World Unseen (2007)
Director: Shamim Sarif
Writer (novel and screenplay): Shamim Sarif
Cast: Lisa Ray, Sheetal Sheth, Parin, Dabas, Nandana Sen, Grethe Fox, David Dennis, Bernard White, Colin Moss, Amber Rose, Revah
Time: 1:34

Sheetal Sheth and Lisa Ray cruising.

All the elements are there: conflicts between races in Apartheid South Africa, Lesbian intolerance, domestic violence, and finding the courage to stand up to all those negative forces. And yet, I found the film unusually un-compelling. The lead actresses are very attractive and do a pretty good job, as do the supporting players. The black silent partner in the restaurant business is sympathetic, the policeman is even humanized though still committed to doing his sworn job, the husband acts out of desperation to keep his family together. So, the characters are not just cookie-cut-outs of recognizable stereotypes. Why didn’t I feel for these people, these situations?

Miriam (Lisa Ray) owns a popular bar/restaurant in a small township in South Africa. She is strong and independent, even though the Indian population in South Africa is not embraced by the white, Apartheid government. She meets Amina (Sheetal Sheth) who, with her husband (Parvin Dabas) and children, has just moved to the township for her husband’s new job. Amina, also Indian, is a dutiful, though unimpassioned and unhappy, wife, but she quietly accepts her place in life, as all good Indian women must. Between the police being very suspicious of Miriam’s black handyman, secretly and unlawfully a partner in the restaurant; the growing intimacy between Miriam and Amina, the reaction of Amina’s husband and the community to their relationship – I should care. Again, I don’t.

Perhaps it’s because: (1) since Apartheid has ended in South Africa, I no longer invest the same level of emotion I once did to that intolerable situation; (2) the community’s transition to acceptance of this new kind of relationship is far too easy, so

potential drama is defected; (3) I’ve seen this same situation before far too many times in Gay and Lesbian films throughout the years. New location, same story. Girl meets girl, girl shows girl she’s really gay, girl must break with established social order to find happiness. (4) And I don’t think the script demands the emotional depth and intensity to carry me. Jeez, nobody’s burning up in kitchen flames of passion and sacrifice to love as did the lovers in “Fire.” Nobody’ is confined to a prison within a town by a river as was the very same :Lisa Ray in “Water.” The stakes are lower, the tone is milder, the world – South Africa during Apartheid – is still more tolerant and open than India for women to this day.

To be fair, this film is still a thick cut above most of the low-budget indie Lesbian films I see at festivals. It is multi-layered with social and personal problems rarely attempted in the usual fare. The actors are real professionals with long IMDb pages attesting to their abilities. The cinematography makes the audience feel a part of the scene; we are living among the townspeople, we form opinions based on our neighbors’ actions. In time, I hope to see Shamim Sarif go further out on the limbs of the precarious life Indian Lesbians must traverse and bring us truly emotionally fulfilling books and films.

Blindness (2008)
Director: Fernando Meirelles
Writers: Jose Saramago, Don McKellar
Julianne Moore, Mark Ruffalo, Alice Braga, Danny Glover, Gael Garcia Bernal, Yusuki Iseya, Don McKellar, Yoshino Kimura, Maury Chaykin

We don't know why certain people go blind, why everything goes white instead of black, the cause, the possible cures. That could have been interesting, like the original "Andromeda Strain"'s (1971, not 2008) search for a cure for an alien viral infection that might have decimated the earth. We don't learn about the development of cultures outside of the mainstream, as we did in "Lord of the Flies" (1963 and 1990). We empathize with the quarantined prisoners in A Block, but lack the true pathos inspired by so many Holocaust films, including "Schindler's List" (1993) or "Triumph of the Spirit" (1989). What

we have here is a situation in which people can either be good and helpful and cooperative or abusive and brutal. Yeah, I already knew that. Though the blind see white in this film, it is dark from the get go and only gets darker. The first person who goes blind is robbed by a passer-by, the government corals the blind only to treat them like diseased jetsam. I don't get it. What's the point? It's a "what if this happened?" movie without a pay off. There aren't even any good tips for survival except if you're in a blind world, it's good to have sight.

Of course, the whole cast does a great job with good dialogue. The small scene-to-scene moments are truthful and poignant. The larger picture of there-really-is-no-picture doesn't effect their skills. But you still walk out of the theater at the end saying "What was that?"

A Thousand Years of Good Prayers
Director/Producer: Wayne Wang
Writer: Yiyun Li
Cast: Henry O, Faye Yu, Vida Ghahremani, Pasha Lychnikoff
Not yet rated, but harmless
83 minutes

What we suspected about Asians, you know, the stereotype of being inscrutable -- meaning silent, reserved, mysterious, internal, uncommunicative -- is true, even among themselves. They are brought up in homes where their parents don’t discuss, argue, show emotion. So, they follow suit. This is the story of Yilan (Faye Hu), a transplanted Chinese women, who feels she can’t communicate in her own language.

When her dad (Henry O) comes to visit after her move to America 12 years earlier, she finds it impossible to talk to him, to explain why her marriage failed, to tell him about her resentments about his absentee fatherhood, to let him in on the life she is now leading. Honestly, this doesn’t make for very excotomg film viewing. Father and daughter say little to each other. His questions are evaded, answers being terse or completely absent. She feels the need to escape his prodding and leaves him alone in her apartment a lot -- to go to work in a Law School Library where, since he is not a student or employee, he is not granted entrance; to the movies where she sits alone rather than stay home and talk with him. He looks out the window of her non-descript apartment, reads the newspaper, cooks, listens to Mormon proselytizers, takes walks to the park where he converses in broken English/Chinese/Farsi with a kindly, older, Iranian woman.

We have to be very patient with this film; we have to slow way down; we have to listen intently. The pay off is small, if you consider it a payoff at all. Yilan may never be able to express herself or get out of her little Chinese box. “If you grew up in a language in which you never learned to express your feelings, it would be easier to talk in an new language. It makes you a new person.” But still, even in English, she may never be happy -- her dad’s major concern. He may never be able to truly communicate with his daughter in any language.

The damage done by the Chinese social order going back to the Cultural Revolution of 1948 may have not only damaged that generation but the ones that followed. A minor infraction at work, followed by unsubstantiated gossip, cost him his career and dignity. The cover-up and lies and silence at home followed, and the next generation thought this simply is how life is. It’s a glum, sad, quite tale without a Hollywood ending, but perhaps a wimper of acceptance between them.

The Duchess (2008)
Director: Saul Dibb
Writers: Jeffrey Hatcher, Anders Thomas Jensen, Saul Dibb
from the book “Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire,” by Amanda Foreman
Cast: Keira Knightly, Ralph Fiennes, Charlotte Rampling, Hayley Atwell, Dominic Cooper, Aidan McArdle
Executive Producers: Amanda Foreman, Carolyn Marks Blackwood, Francoise Ivenel, Christine, Langan, Cameron McCracken, David M. Thompson
Rated: PG13
110 min.

The parallels are so numerous that one might wonder -- is this a thinly veiled historic perspective to the life of Princess Diana and Prince Charles or rather a British cultural phenomenon that begs repetition?Georgiana Spencer (Keira Knightly) is young, well bred (meaning brought up to be a wife any nobleman would be proud of), beautiful, intelligent. There is no infertility in her family’s women. Same is true of Diana Spencer. Both women were several years younger than their husbands (Keira to Ralph - 23 years), (Di to Charles - 13 years) (Georgiana to William - 9 years). Okay, a little perspective into Hollywood casting. Neither Georgiana nor Diana were loved by their husbands who felt pressured to produce a male heir. Both men found it difficult to be warm and caring. In more than one scene the Duke states he was not raised to show emotion. Biographies of Charles show that raising children in Buckingham Palace was done more by nannies than the stalwart, stone faced Elizabeth II. Both husbands loved older, matronly women. Lady Elizabeth, the Duke’s mistress came from a similar situation. Her husband had many mistresses, and worse, beat her, refused to divorce her and kept her children when she left him. What is it with Englishmen? Is it considered unmanly to love one’s wife? Bess had 3 sons, which made her more attractive to the Duke, though her sons would never he his heirs. Still, breeding sons was a quality in women he admired. It has been said, though not kindly, that Charles found in Camilla the mother he never had - which solves that mystery.Georgiana was famous for her fashion sense and was a trend setter, explaining to her husband in one of their very brief and infrequent discussions that men have many outlets for their creativity, women only have hats and dresses. Remember the recent auction of some of Diana’s gowns -- many of which will end up in museums? Georgiana entered the political arena, supporting candidates of the Wig Party who were proponents of enlarging the freedoms of men, though slowly over time and not to all. Perhaps this was selfish of her, hoping to someday have the personal and political freedoms that men enjoyed. She campaigned much as celebrities do now, introducing candidates, rousing the crowds, associating her popularity with politicians. Diana was the first in her situation to demand a divorce, and her political activism (for one, to get rid of land mines) continues to this day beyond her death.Both were Spencers -- Diana being a member of the same family. Couldn’t she see this coming? The very tag line to the film is “There were three people in her marriage,” a direct quote from Princess Diana given in her famous TV interview after her divorce.

Yes, the institution of divorce was available to men at the time. King Henry VIII started a new religion in England just for that purpose -- because he wanted current mistresses to replace his perfectly good wives and the populace was getting tired of all the beheadings of former wives. Check out “The Other Boleyn Girl” (2008), with a very similar story: nobleman (this time the king of England) doesn’t love his wife, is very cold and taciturn with her, and has, not only mistress after mistress, but loves them all more than her. Divorce is not an option in this film, unfortunately for his then-wife, Ann Boleyn, but comes later in his life. “A Man For All Seasons” (1967) tackles that issue Academy awardingly®.

Though divorce was on the books at the time of “The Duchess” (1780's), women had no power, especially against one of the most powerful men in England at the time. Willing to give up her title, her vast fortune, and her reputation to get out of her loveless marriage which she had to share with her husband’s mistress so she could pursue her own relationship with another man -- Charles Gray, the 2nd Earl of Grey (not the tea) who later became Prime Minister -- she was not willing to give up her children or be responsible for the end of Grey’s career.

Through Keira Knightly’s controlled performance, we see the cage that society and her marriage has built. Though gilded, it is suffocating, humiliating, cold and frustrating. Unable to show her anger, knowing reprisals could even worsen her situation, her despair is palpable. Fiennes, as the emotionally bankrupt Duke, has a much easier job. Stone faced, cool and controlled, a man who needs prove nothing except he can sire a son, he rules the household quietly and with authority. We never get a glimpse into his inner soul, if he has one -- perhaps being a product of centuries of inbreeding, his has shriveled and died.

The locations, the clothes, the hair, the hats -- all over-the-top magnificent. The issue: life at the top is still hell if you’re not loved -- oh, so true. It’s unfortunate that William Cavendish, Duke of Devonshire, never knew the words -- amicable divorce. He kept Georgiana for years for no reason at all when others close to their social standing were divorcing. I could easily envision shared custody with no insult impugned on his reputation. Hell, we did see it with Charles and Di. It is wonderful that Di did have the opportunity to live her life without Charles. No matter how much the paparazzi impinged on her privacy, she was love and lauded by the public for her charitable and political works, her grace and good taste. Too bad Georgiana didn’t get that opportunity.

Here’s the irony -- both her daughters of this union married and left heirs, whereas the Duke, the all so imperative heir to the estate and title of the 6th Duke of Cavendish, never married or had children.

Also, let us hope Wikipedia is correct in suggesting the Duke, his Duchess and his Mistress all lived in a satisfying manage a trois for the duration of the multifaceted relationship and that the film is incorrect on that point.

Traitor (2008)
Writer/Director: Jeffrey Nachmanoff
Cast: Don Cheadle, Guy Pearce, Jeff Daniels, Neal McDonough
Rated: PG13
1hr 50 min

“Traitor” is a propaganda piece directed to all Muslims who would be persuaded by terrorist insurgents through the use of intentional misinterpretation of the Koran and the promise of an afterlife with 27 virgins to follow said insurgents’ orders to the death, literally, while said insurgents live the high life eating pork and drinking champagne. Hope it works.

This is a view of terrorism from the other side. Don Cheadle plays a stone-faced, Muslim, bomb expert, Samir Horn, whose father was a Sudanese and mother a Chicagoan, educated in the US and US military, and helping a terrorist cell that travels the world arranging for and committing acts of terrorism. Is he still a CIA operative, has he gone over to the other side? His reasoning and beliefs leave us guessing. I have to admit, I felt a little uneasy rooting for our hero as he blows up an American Embassy and develops ingenious plans for killing hundreds of people. Yet, I couldn’t wish him dead at the hands of FBI agent FBI Agent Roy Clayton (Guy Pearce) either. Maybe Clayton could convince him to change his ways, maybe something, but I didn’t know what.

how Moslems are recruited -- in much the same way the poor and destitute are always manipulated -- with weak logic, with scapegoats, with promises that could obviously never be fulfilled, with snake oil salesman smooth talk. And it works. And considering the racial profiling taking place in this country and around the world, it’s amazing that not all Moslems fall to the dark side.

For the young, there are lots of bombs going off, lots of tension and close calls, great locations. For the women, Pearce has buffed up for the roll and, though never shirtless, is looking very Brad Pitt-ish. For the students of political science and current events, this could be an eye-opening view of the inner workings of a terrorist cell and the attempts made by the U.S. government to combat them.

Hamlet 2 (2008)
Director: Andrew Fleming
Writers: Andrew Fleming and Pam Brady
Cast: Steve Coogan, Catherine Keener, Elizabeth Shue, Joseph Julian Soria, Skylar Astin, Phoebe Strole, Melonie Diaz, David Arquette, Marshall Bell, Amy Poehler
Rated: R
92 minutes

If you’ve ever read or seen Hamlet, you know that at the end of the play, all the major characters and most of the minor ones are dead. So, there is already a joke in the title. I expected some really funny plays on the play in this film. Dana Marschz (Steve Coogan), high school drama teacher and failed actor, believes in second chances (and wishes he had a few). He believes that if Hamlet had had some therapy, nobody would have had to die. He wants to take Hamlet back in a time machine, escorted by Jesus, to make things right. Since he can’t have second chances in his life, this is the best he can do. So he writes a play for his drama class to perform.

Things are a bit more complicated than that, though. His wife, Brie (Catherine Keener) is at best disdainful of her husband; the school principal is cutting drama from the curriculum so after this term Dana is out; and his students, having no other options, are stuck in his drama class against their will and better judgment.

Looks like all the elements are there for a really funny film, but, unfortunately, director Andrew Fleming with his co-writer Pam Brady, turned this film into what looks like a lower cost and less talent-filled High School Musical. The play within the movie takes more chances (the police and fire department are called to the performance to stop it, but am ACLU lawyer [Amy Poehler] keeps them at bay) with numbers like Fucked in the Face and Rock Me,

Sexy Jesus. The movie takes chances like Dana wearing caftans so his balls can stay cool and he can impregnate his wife, only to inadvertently display his genitalia (I love that word). So much potentially good stuff, but somehow the jokes are too few and far between, the dancers and singers aren’t that talented, and the movie drags. Okay, Dana is not a good roller skater, but how many times must I watch him skate terribly? His marriage is bad, but I figured out the result long before the payoff. He isn’t an inspirational teacher, like in “Dead Poets Society” or “Mr. Holland’s Opus.” Yes, true, nor an inspirational actor in an inspiration, funny or enjoyable film. Sorry, I really wanted to like this one.

Tropic Thunder (2008)
Director: Ben Stiller
Writers: Ben Stiller, Justsin Theroux, and Etan Cohen
Cast: Ben Stiller, Robert Downey, Jr., Jack Black, Jay Baruchel, Brandon T. Jackson, Steven Coogan, Matthew McConaughey, Tom Cruise, Brandon Soo Hoo, Nick Nolte
Rated: R
Time: 2:35

I was blown away! I was expecting laughs and probably lots of low brow antics, but nothing like this. I was just going to girder my loins, sit through it like a trooper and enjoy the few jokes that weren’t based on the bathroom or human bodily functions. I couldn’t have been more wrong. It was really funny and not crass. Don’t worry, 17 year old boys and those who think like them. You’ll still love it.

The plot is much more complicated and interesting than one might expect from the commercials and trailer. Egocentric, pampered actors in a Vietnam War action movie on location in the jungle get kidnapped. That doesn’t begin to tell all the facets and turns in their adventure -- and that’s not even correct.

It’s a spoof on Hollywood actors and their inflated sense of self-importance. Yes, but the subtlety and on-point satire of the humor is so many levels above Stiller’s previous works -- no jessum in the hair this time. And only one tiny fart. Stiller and Thoreux have matured into fine satiric writers.

Okay, the R word. Please, we can say retarded. It’s in the dictionary. The child’s pajamas were treated to retard flames. It means arrested, delayed, hampered, impeded, slowed down. It was an accepted medical term until nasty, little children in the school yard started using it as an insult. May more words go out of favor the same way, for instance -- bff. “You’ve got a bff, you’ve got a bff.” “Who’s your bff now, baby?” “Your mother is a bff!” See how easy it is.

First of all, the remarks made about retards were made to insult the speakers themselves and their insensitivity. Secondly, all of us, no matter what group, minority, disability we may have, should maintain a sense of humor about ourselves or we become pathetic. At least assess the context before getting insulted. I’m a Jew who has withstood the most foul, hateful language aimed against Jews by Nazis in movies since the subject was first broached (in TV reruns for the older films, of course). It was obvious the Nazis were the bad guys, not the Jews. I was offended by history and Nazis, not the actors, writers or film makers. This goes for all films exposing anti-Semitism or films with remarks made by anti-Semitic characters. Thirdly, the person who “portrayed” the retard was only revealing his poor acting skills. He was the brunt of jokes in the film, not the person he was trying to portray. Remember, as stated in the film, to do the job well, you will awards. He just didn’t and didn’t.

And sure, Robert Downey, Jr., was hysterical and point on as an Australian, multi-Oscar™ winning thespian playing a black soldier. Yeah, Downey is great. Okay. BUT Tom Cruise (unseen in the trailer or poster) is brilliant -- not because of his rampage, his diabolic manipulations of a situation, or even his “I’m on top, rich and getting richer” dance (all amazing), but because of a momentary gaze, eyes wide, mouth stuffed with a huge cigar, body frozen while assessing the situation and formulating a plan. Just one momentary gaze. It hushed the whole audience of raucous, over stimulated, sugar enriched, target audience members. I was impressed with all the actors, well, except Ben Stiller. He’s still doing the “comedy” acting schtick and it was funny. All the others, though, were really doing their characters, and doing them well. He had enough to do already, anyway and writer, director, producer. And Jack Black did tone it down a bit, but he was playing an over-the-top movie star famous for being able to fart on cue. How serious can he be?

There are lots of references to other films which are fun to find. Of course, Apocalypse Now. It’s hard to separate any war film from images of Apocalypse Now, but a few do stand out as specifically its own. Platoon. I found one for Close Encounters of the Third Kind. I’m not a war movie fan and probably missed lots. See what else you can pick out.

Stiller has matured and his sense of humor, writing and directing skills were worth waiting for. This is one of the very few films I’d like to have a copy of for my archives.

Vicky Cristina Barcelona (2008)
Writer/Director: Woody Allen
Producer: Letty Aronson
Cast: Rebecca Hall, Scarlett Johansson,
Javier Bardem, ubiquitious Patricia Clarkson
Rated: PG-13
96 min.

I liked this movie. How strange. My reactions to Woody Allen films since the one I liked, "What's Up, Tiger Lily," have ranged from dislike to abhorrence and having to leave the theater. Almost always, we watch Allen play out his fantasy of beautiful woman loving him (of course, they have to be very neurotic). His absolute lowest attempt at fulfilling this fantasy was "Deconstructing Harry," in which countless beautiful, classy, educated women are angry at him for their past relationships with him (there he's playing out his Mia nightmare). After hearing him hiss "Jew bitch" one too many times (and once is enough), I walked out. He has also had the good sense in his last few romantic comedies to place younger, more attractive men in his role. But by this time, the jokes were older and lamer than Henny Youngman's and the stuttering by all major characters was beyond annoying.

But now there's "Vicky Cristina Barcelona." On the face of it, the plot seems too far fetched to accept: a suave artist (Javier Bardem - looking the handsomest he's ever been) approaches two young women (Rebecca Hall [with the morals of a Victorian and engaged] and Scarlett Johansson [looking for sexual adventures] in a restaurant in Barcelona and asks them to fly with him to a quaint village for a weekend of fun, sex, good wine and good food. They go. Eventually, he not only beds them, but his ex-wife (Penelope Cruz) returns to join the melange. Sure, typical Allen fantasy, but the situations are plausible based on characterizations, plot and dialogue. I accepted the various couplings, the emotional responses they have to each other, the outcomes. It's a tribute to Allen that he was able to still fulfill his imaginary sex life with a film that has something to say about relationships in a compassionate, delicate and human way. This is not so much a comedy as a romp -- a summer away from responsibilities and moral codes in the most beautiful city in Spain (though some might say Catalan is not really a part of Spain. Please!).

Ladies, be warned. If you go with a date to this film, he'll be asking you to bring your bff along or he'll want to meet up with her afterwards for good food, wine.....

The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor (2008)
Director: Rob Cohen
Cast: Brendan Frasier, Maria Bello, Luke Ford, Jet Li, Michelle Yeoh, John Hannah, Isabelle Leong
Time: 111 minutes

My eyes were tacked to the screen the full 111 minutes. The breathtaking special effects were believable, or a tribute to the army of special effects crew who helped us suspended our disbelief. The action barely stopped for a breath, and it hardly repeated itself. You know what I mean -- high speed karate fight after fight, or beating up monster after monster. The variety and range of action never let the audience drift off into a hypnotic trance of flashing colors and repetitive violence.

Brendan Fraser is being forced to age quickly. In his first Mummy jaunt, only 9 years ago, he’s a bachelor. Two years later, he’s the father of 8 year old Alex. And now son Alex is a college dropout (played by 27 year old Luke Ford) who goes off on his own archeological adventures -- this time excavating the first Emperor of China and his terra cotta army. Did the producers really need a younger, new heartthrob to attract the female audience? Perhaps they wanted to parallel Indiana Jones even closer by adding a young son who will carry on the family tradition. Hmmmmm. I think it’s a bit premature. Brendan still looks fine to me. And, dash it all, after his obviously spending countless hours in the gym getting in shape for this film, we only see him shirtless for less than a minute. I’m ready for him to get back in the jungle for another George, in a loincloth for a full 90 minutes. His body is, too.

Maria Bello was unrecognizable as herself, perhaps because she was supposed to convince us she was the same love interest/wife from the first two Mummy installments (previously Rachel Weisz). It has to have been Weisz’s choice not to do a third installment because she was great in the part and would never intentionally be left out of the third go. Though I love Bello in all her previous works, like “The Jane Austen Book Club” and “A History of Violence,” Weisz was missed. I found Bello weak in the part and floundering. She started out a country socialite reading her adventure “novel” to a ladies group, more interested in writing then getting “inspired” with her gorgeous husband, if you know what I mean. She was effete, in a word. Whereas, Weisz was strong, in charge, an expert in her field of Egyptology, and a doer. Sure, a lot of this was due to the script, but this woman was a far cry from the previous action heroine.

Now, here’s a thought. Much of the film takes place in the “western edge of China.” They travel to the Himalayas, they seek out Shangri Li, and yet, no mention of Tibet. The word is never spoken. The young, politically ignorant, Mummy-targeted audience may not notice this, but how can anyone aware of the 1951 invasion of Tibet by China and the unending struggle of the Tibetans, including the Dalai Lama, to get their homeland back, not see this glaring omission? Seems the Chinese army cooperated in the production of the film and was able to erase Tibet’s existence -- in this production at least. Still, it was nice to see lots of Chinese soldiers -- bent on world domination and the end of freedom getting their just deserts at the hands of the ghostly skeletons of previous victims. That is very un-Buddhist of me. Sorry.

This is a blockbuster you can enjoy for its timeless adventurous and humorous quality. It is not dark. It is a simple story (with complicated effects) of good versus evil, not troubled and dark versus diabolical and pathological. The worst emotional angst in this film is Dad Fraser feeling he was a bit remiss in being a good parent. And jokes are even made about this. The situation is easily cured by the two mowing down hundreds of ceramic solders with a variety of heavy arms -- true bonding.

People bounce back after what would otherwise be bone breaking smashes against walls and falls off high speed carts carrying exploding fireworks. They are live action cartoons who barely bleed. Nothing historical will be learned in The Mummy (though much is described on the website linked above). This is definitely a case of style over substance -- and I love it.

Elegy (2008)
Director: Isabel Coixet
Writer: Nicholas Meyer from the novel, “The Dying Animal”, by Philip Roth
Cast: Ben Kingsley, Penelope Cruz, Patricia Clarkson, Dennis Hopper, Peter Sarsgaard
Rated: R
Running time: 108 minutes

“Elegy” traces the life cycle of a romance between an old, emotionally stunted college professor/cultural critic and a beautiful, young, intelligent woman. Okay, I’m bristling with irritation already.

Why does she do it? We don’t get too many answers to that question. Is it because he can give her a better grade? No. Since the establishment of sexual harassment laws, he knows better than to offer grades for favors. Instead, he throws a party in his apartment each year at end of term to make his selection among the coeds. And she is an A student anyway. Professors always pick A students to lessen their guilt. Is it because he’s handsome? A flat no to that! I don’t mean to insult Ben Kingsley, one of the finest actors of our time, just the character he portrays, DavidKepesh. Kepesh covets his bit of fame, regularly appearing on TV talk shows, espousing the merits of living free, never marrying, and enjoying sex sans commitment with many partners. I always find such men unattractive. By the way, Kingsley also plays a dirty, old man in “The Wackness,” picking up teens and getting them drunk, screwing his gorgeous, much younger wife, played by Famke Janssen, and smoking dope incessantly. This is quite a year for Mr. Kingsley.

Kepesh is an unsympathetic, dispassionate man. The film is all about his perspective, his longings, his excuses, paranoia, jealousy, and many failings. Instead of a respectful study of an aging intellectual, this could be director Isabel Coixet's subtle revenge on the whole myth of older man/younger woman societal acceptability. It could be a warning to young, beautiful coeds across the country, and even the world, to not waste their time with losers wrapped in stately robes who promise intellectual and experiential rewards if the nubiles just quietly lay down. Then again, we might be able to find, very deeply rooted within him, the humanity and compassion he has found so inconvenient throughout most of his life.

Not that I didn’t indulge in my youth. My professors were in their 40's, not 60's, were chairman of the department; they introduced me to their friends, and I them to mine. One even offered to take me to Africa on a field study as an assistant, and secured my position in graduate school, both of which I politely declined. But we never loved each other; we enjoyed and respected each other. There may be a place for such men in a young woman's life. They’re a growing experience, not a life choice.

There is an honesty to this film that can only put Kingsley’s character in a bad light. We understand his motivations, his desperation, his neuroses. Yet, we remain firmly unsympathetic as long as he maintains his distance from other human beings. I was even unsatisfied with his relationship with the mature and sophisticated Patricia Clarkson character, Carolyn, a former student and now a successful businesswoman, who comfortably fits Kepesh into her life. They were much more equals and closer in age, but it is suggested that he taught her too well how to conduct a relationship -- all emotion was absent from their intimacy, leaving only convenient sex.

Speaking of sex, Cruz is naked for a lot of the movie, so get ready for the DVD, young men. And old men, you may feel you get some justification for your May December relationships, and you get to see Cruz naked a lot. So, this film should be a hit with you, too. Ladies, young and older (there are no old women), this is still a tender story of lovers, no matter their age difference, as well as observations of male friendship and father-son relationships. There should be a lot to talk about over wine after the film.

Still, I'm angry. When women who are 30 years or even 5 years older than their lovers aren’t called cougars, I’ll calm down. When there are as many older women/younger men in films as the reverse, especially without commentary or judgment, I’ll calm down.

Hellboy II: The Golden Army (2008)
Co-Story, Screenplay, Director: Guillermo Del Toro
Co-Story: Mike Mignola
Cast: Ron Perlman, Selma Blair, Doug Jones, Luke Goss, Ann Walton, Jeffrey Tambor, John Hurt
1 hour 50 minutes
PG 13

Talk about being a minority; just as Kermit complained "it's not easy being green," it's even harder being red. And really, that's a major theme in this film. Unlike the mutants in X-Men, Hellboy and his cohort Abe, can't pass. When you see them on the street, you know they're there and you'd probably think they shouldn't be. And even if they're saving humanity from underworldly beings hell bent on eradicating from this tortured earth the ravages of wasteful, greedy, selfish mankind, not only is there no thanks, but they're subjected to outright antagonism. This time, Red is asked to make a choice -- beings like him who fester under the east end of the Brooklyn Bridge and Northern Ireland or the people who throw rocks at him. Hmmmm.

The film starts with a flashback to Hellboy's youth with John Hurt as Father telling his boy a story. The tale, and the whole film, written by del Toro and Mignola (Hellboy comic book creator), is comparable to any of Tolkein's in atmosphere, creatures, and scope. It is the basis of the present day plot: the elf king's peace treaty with humans that has lasted thousands of years will be broken by his princely son and the golden army of giant, indestructible, mechanical soldiers will end humanity. Hellboy to the rescue! Aided by his girlfriend Liz Sherman (Selma Blair) and water creature Abe Sapien (Doug Jones), and possibly hindered by CIA Agent Tom Manning (Jeffrey Tambor) and supervisor Johann Krauss (two s's, like SS), Red (Ron Perlman) is conflicted about destroying these creatures who are more akin to him than his allies are.

The creatures created by de Toro are obviously cousins to those we met in Pan's Labyrinth - the elves (made-up actors), the tooth fairies (his beloved insects), and the assorted monsters, goblins and inhabitants of a long ago world which didn't disappear, but only went underground). There is so much low tech fighting between all sorts of assorted creatures, but always including Red, that I became burnt out by the cartoonish violence, even the high speed sword aikedo moves by Prince Nuada. Solutions to what seemed doomed situations were ingenious and unexpected, though.

Ultimately, the winning charm and humor of Hellboy himself is what makes this cartoon-character-come-to-the-screen a superior offering in the genre. I admit it, I love Hellboy. He's masculine in the most essential ways. If you met him at a party, his first topic of conversation would be the route you took to get to there. He wants to watch his ball game on TV on Sunday. He enjoys a good cigar. And he doesn't understand why his girlfriend is angry at him, but he does know that asking is the wrong thing to do. And let us not forget his impressive, ochre, etched physique. Hellboy is such a guy! Where Superman is an alien posing as a patriotic American, Batman and Ironman are far to cosmopolitan and rich, the Hulk is a scientist with lofty thoughts and ideals, Hellboy is blue collar to the core. He solves problems with a big fist and a bigger gun with coke bottle sized bullets. There's nothing elegant about his solutions, just forceful, and he yells at his combatants like misbehaved dogs: "Now, stay down!" Between the beauty of the sets, the fascinating, otherworldly characters and the down home suburban attitude of our hero, I'm ready for Hellboy III. Bring it on!

Hancock (2008)
Director: Peter Berg
Writers: Vincent Ngo, Vince Gilligan
Cast: Will Smith, Charlize Theron, Jason Bateman
Rated: PG13
92 min.

Hancock is a perfect name for a man suffering from amnesia. The nurse at the hospital where he was treated for a cracked skull and the ensuing amnesia asks him to put his John Hancock on the release papers and that’s just what he does -- a refreshing change from Doe. The odd thing about this Hancock is that the amnesia started 80 years ago and he hasn’t aged a day in all that time, and he can fly, and nothing can penetrate his skin, and he’s very strong.

This is a new and original take on the superhero, in this case, reluctant, anti-social and alcoholic. And he makes an awful mess when he goes about saving people in his usual booze-addled way. L.A. city government is thinking the cost is too high for the lives he saves - torn up streets, severely damaged skyscrapers, dozens of cars, many police vehicles, totaled. Hancock may only be liked by the few individuals he saves and hated by tax payers, police, politicians and the felons he apprehends.

I would have liked to understand why this gifted man stooped to the alcoholic depths to which he succumbed, but that’s asking too much of an action flick. It’s enough that he feels isolated due to his amnesia and super powers. Actually, Wolverine from “The X-Men” also suffers from amnesia and is anti-social. So, perhaps Hancock is not so unique. Except he’s black.

Years ago, Robert Townsend of “Hollywood Shuffle” fame once told me he was very disappointed because there were no black superheros. A black superhero would be a giant step in a more equally represented society and give a solid role model to black children. There was Damon Wayans “Blankman,” and in 1993, Robert Townsend fulfilled his dream by writing, directing and starring in “Meteorman.” There’s also Halle Berry’s Storm in “The X-Men” series -- strong, independent, fighting for right, but with the smallest part and no storyline of her own.

Now the biggest summer blockbuster star, Will Smith, gets the budget necessary to bring a black superhero to the fore. The world will finalize recognize, appreciate and add to the pantheon of superheros a black man! Hallelujah and amen.

Just having Will Smith portray the superhero in a megabuck summer blockbuster gives a bit of immortality to Hancock. Hancock will not soon be forgotten as were his brother predecessors. Probably only “Wild, Wild West,” out of all Will Smith films will be forgotten. Not a bad record. So, now Robert Townsend can rest easy. Sure, Hancock is a social misfit, blunderer and loser at the beginning of the film, but you must surmise he will do himself proud by the end. It is a Hollywood film.

What makes this superhero different from all the other superheros is not that he is black, as discussed above, but that he is a street drunk and a__hole (we are told many times) who lives in a double wide out in the desert (no fortress of solitude). I was a little uneasy with this interpretation of what a black superhero would be. Is this veracity in film, ethnic imperative, bias by the screenwriters, or reflection of our culture? Maybe I shouldn’t delve too deep into the superficial subtext and just enjoy the film.

I hate to give away any more of the plot than what’s shown in the previews and commercials. I was very surprised by the turn of events in the film and wouldn’t want to ruin it for you. Suffice it to say Academy Award winner Charlize Theron is not about to just play the wife of the guy who befriends Hancock and tries to straighten him out. Her career is still big enough to warrant serious plot play, and she does get second billing in the credits. So, do not dismiss her. Hint, hint.

Wanted (2008)
Director: Timur Bekmambetov
Writer: Chris Morgan
Cast: James McAvoy, Angelina Jolie, Morgan Freeman, Terence Stamp

The release of this film couldn’t have been more poorly timed. Now that the federal government is confirming everybody’s right to own a gun, James McAvoy and Angelina Jolie are making guns look indispensable to being cool and having a good time. McAvoy’s character can finally leave his deadening office job to be trained in assassinhood - which includes constant beatings, wax baths, and shooting curved trajectories around carcasses.

Other than the joy of shooting people through the head (either entry or exit through the forehead with accompanying slow-mo spatter), there is no point to this film. It is mean and violent in its relentless slaughter of people for no apparent reason -- the assassins (a cool term for serial killers) vow to remain ignorant to why victims are chosen - obediently taking instructions from the warp and woof of cloth - or Morgan Freeman, the man who interprets it.

We get to see Jolie eat several times, which is refreshing. And her lips have obviously been given a rest from constant injections from the level of overripe cherries about to burst to looking almost like those of a normal human being. Again, refreshing. She stares and smiles knowingly, and drapes herself over car hoods and subway roofs to get a better shot at renegade killers (as opposed to obedient killers). The shame of it is that when Jolie makes a good film, like “A Mighty Heart,” nobody goes to see it. Who can blame her for at least making money as a star in lieu of receiving recognition for being a great actress?

Still, this film will strike a cord for addicted violent video gamers, mercenaries, would-be serial killers, and .... serial killers. And since the film was shot mostly in Eastern Europe, “no animals were harmed in the making of this film” is not mandatory or adhered to. No film is worth abusing even one rat, especially this film. There were cut aways between shots of the rats running around with little bombs attached to them and the explosions, but still, this film isn’t worth it.

The Incredible Hulk (2008)
Director: Louis LeTerrier
Writers: Zak Pen, Edward Norton from the Marvel comics by Stan Lee and Jack Kirby
Cast: Edward Norton, Liv Tyler, William Hurt, Tim Roth, Ty Burrell
Rated: PG13

The Hulk, either incredible or prosaic, is all about anger, rage and violence. That’s it. That’s what the audience, rich in testosterone, is lining up to see. Bruce Banner hiding out in Brazil and studying local marshall arts and diaphragm breathing to control his anger is going to get nowhere in his attempt to stop his “incidents” of hulkiness. If it did help him control is anger, rage and violence, you’d be watching an American version of “Dalai Lama Renaissance.” Also, there is absolutely no point in fettering the movie with plot. So, here’s the plot: The U.S. Army is going after Bruce Banner who is hiding from it. The extended plot would add the line: One of the soldiers wants some of the juice Hulk is on and gets it.

The contrast between the Hulk and his non-pumped counterpart is brought into sharper relief than ever. Edward Norton is truly the guy the other guys kick sand in the face of (pardon my grammar). Actually, so is his nemesis, Emil Bronsky played buy ever-so-slight-of-stature Tim Roth. No Eric Bana this time, just one slap in the face away from becoming the Hulk; even Bana’s facial features were still distinct in the green giant.

Now, the change from nerd to super hero makes one completely unrecognizable from the other. The secret formula which went awry in the original experiment is becoming more obvious in nature. It could be nothing but radiated steroids - huge muscles, anger, lack of judgment. All the telltale signs of steroid abuse (or roid rage) are evident. And it makes me kind of sad that this super hero who will capture the minds, hearts and dollars of our youth for the next few weeks is a once-intelligent, sensitive scientist who has turned into a mindless brute with a syringe full of drugs. Not so different from almost all of today’s heroes in the sports fields. Check out “Bigger, Stronger, Faster” for the lowdown on the prevalence of steroids in all sports.

Some standout scenes: a tender moment between the Hulk and his gal, Betty Ross, played by Liv Tyler, reminiscent of the mountain top eerie scene in all the “King Kong”s; a Dr. Frankenstein moment, complete with monster strapped on table, lots of scientific equipment with widgets and dials, raving scientist, and the added attraction of Liv jumping on the monster for a ride while screaming instructions to the monster to focus and to the doctor to inject more drugs. This was perhaps my favorite moment in the film. The scene where the Hulk confronts the Army on a college campus (symbolic significance?) harks back to the 50's when little toy tanks bombarded the various vintage monsters with bullets, then bigger bullets, then little bombs, then bigger bombs, then super weapons. Some things never change and perhaps shouldn’t. If the latest generation hasn’t seen the Japanese Godzilla films or the American radiated ants, spiders, or giant woman movies of the 50's, they will find this fresh and fun. The denouement is just a bout from WWF. Like many other scenes in this film, it is far to violent for children. Making the veins swell, the skin go taut, red/green and shiny with the strain and pain of the fight, only adds to the overall effect. The boys in the audience were silent and rapt in the agonizing battle. This is a true indication that The Hulk hits the mark. Know what you’re in for - just lots of violence. Have fun.

On the face of it, this is a documentary about a group of 40 innovative Western thinkers who come together under the banner of Synthesis to help the Dalai Lama solve the problems of the world. Really! And who are these people? Having seen this film, I still don’t know who they are. Sure, their names come up on the bottom third of the screen and probably a lot of people in their fields know and respect them, but in their positions today in world society, can they even influence those who have power? We have the publisher of Yes! magazine, not Time magazine. We have a theoretical scientist who is not Stephen Hawking or anyone who has won a Nobel prize. I was hoping to see a CEO who has turned green after a trip to the Arctic and has seen the error of his ways. Maybe a political advisor who has the ear of powerful public figures… But no. Even if this group came up with some good ideas, they couldn’t possibly effect change. And that is what bothers me about all Think Tanks. I’m sure all the world’s ills have been put to bed in theory, but people in power don’t want to hear about it and certainly won’t act upon them.

This brings me to my next point - hubris. Not to disparage this group of notable thinkers, and I say this with compassion. The idea is that when 40 really smart people from various disciplines like eastern and western religious studies, biology, philosophy, publishing, writing, etc., get together, their total will be greater than the sum of their parts. To imagine that any 40 people can solve the world’s problems in 5 days is, I repeat, hubris. Instead, we get to watch “big egos as fragile as egg shells.” By the end of the first day, they’re arguing over the hierarchy of the group and the structure and format imposed by the facilitators. It seems the loudest contributors get the most said. By the way, no one has yet to mention what the problems specifically are or what the questions should be answered. I never heard the words: greenhouse effect, totalitarianism, hunger, disease, greed. Days pass in varying degrees of conflict. When they get tired of talking about solutions to problems they haven’t yet defined, they argue over who gets to talk directly with the Dalai Lama. After all, they’ve all come a long way and don’t want to leave without at least voice-to-voice contact with His Holiness.

Fortunately, during these long, tedious conflicts, we get to hear wonderful Tibetan music, see traditional dances, wallow in the gorgeous vistas of this area, and familiarize ourselves with the culture of this exiled population.

Okay, finally there’s a meeting with the Synthesis group and the Dalai Lama. A couple of proposals are made: let’s boycott all Chinese products until Tibet is back in the hands of the Tibetans; let’s all fight evil in the world with the Dalai Lama as our leader. Let me just say, till this point, I was a little concerned about His Holiness. Everybody was commenting on how he is a great man, perhaps the true reincarnation of the XIII Dalai Lama and all those who preceded him, a true spiritual leader. And we get some archival footage of Himself going back to childhood, his escape from Tibet during the Chinese invasion in 1959, and his appearances throughout the world since. But what I saw in this film was a modest, “simple monk,” as he calls himself, who seemed to laugh far too much and perhaps inappropriately.

So, you think I myself have the hubris to criticize the XIV Dalai Lama, Tenzin Gyatso, the spiritual and temporal leader of the Tibetan people? Perhaps you think I have given away too much about the film? No, no, little grasshopper. The Dalai Lama is, I believe, the true incarnation of the Laughing Buddha. He doesn’t care what this group, or any of the other groups he has invited to Dharamsala in Northern India under the pretext of asking for advice, has to say. They couldn’t be more incorrect, and he knew they would be. They all have been. They should have known it was a trick when he asked them to help solve the problems of the world. Sure sounds as vague, as all-encompassing and as unanswerable as “What is the mean of life, the universe and everything?” I have no doubt that His Holiness is a fan of “Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy.” Obviously, what drives these Synthesis people is their egos and not their common sense or smarts.

He brings them to his eerie in the Himalayans to have an audience with him so that he may speak to them. Narrator Harrison Ford gives us the clue with this quote: “Every man wants to change the world, but no man wants to change himself.” And that is what this enlightening film is about. Of course, the Dalai Lama (which means Ocean of Wisdom) laughs all the time -- he is the trickster. You go pay to see this movie and be graced by an audience with His Holiness, and like all who have come to him to offer their wisdom, carry away his, instead. Spread his words. He already has the answers. After all, he is the Bodhisattva of Compassion and he won the Nobel Prize for Peace. Who would know better how to solve the world’s problems?

Note: This film is narrated by Harrison Ford. I couldn’t help but notice the conspicuous absence of Richard Gere. What could this mean?

Speed Racer (2008)
Directors/Writers: Larry Wachowski, Andy Wachowski
Cast Emile Hirsch, Susan Sarandon, John Goodman, Christina Ricci, Matthew Fox, Hiroyuki Sanada (more)
Running Time 129 minutes
Rating PG - for sequences of action, some violence and language

Let’s not bother talking about a plot. Who cares? There’s some strife, there are several bad guys who keep the hero and his family hopping, and there are races and races and races. Yes, the effects are spectacular and the actors fit into the background seamlessly. The races are so fast, I can’t tell what’s happening, but Speed Racer’s car is the only white one, so it’s easy to keep track of it.

Please please -- don’t try this at home or in real life. These races are more like demolition derbies, with constant crashes, and lots of dead drivers, though we never seen any. They blow up, they are pushed off cliffs, they simply disappear! And the turns are so acute and numerous that the cars skid sideways more than they drive head first. Nobody’s watching out for rule infractions like James-Bondesque propellers coming out of wheels to shred opponents tires. Cars even pop up into the air with hydraulic pumps so they can avoid some of the crashes and stay in the race. It kind of brings out my old lady instincts and I worry about the testosterone-filled boys with driver’s licences still warm from the printers taking their dad’s cars out for a spin a la Speed.

The acting, rightfully, is at about the same level as the original kids’ Saturday morning cartoon. Nice to see Emile Hirsch (Into the Wild), John Goodman (Barton Fink), Susan Sarandon (Dead Man Walking), and Christina Ricci (Monster), but it’s obvious they are all overqualified and wasted on this special effects extravaganza. They must have been tempted by really big bucks (resistance to temptation of really big bucks being the moral of the film). Oh, the irony. It’s not as if it’s fun making believe your driving real fast or watching someone driving real fast in a green room. But admittedly, it sure was fun to watch.

Then She Found Me (2008)
Director: Helen Hunt
Writers: Helen Hunt, Victor Levin, Alice Arlen
Cast: Helen Hunt, Matthew Broderick, Colin Firth, Bette Midler, Ben Shankman, Salman Rushdie
Time: 100 min.
Rated: R

There is always the risk when delving into the lives of women that the stories turn into soap operas or Lifetime movies. Once-prime-time stars and starlets past their primes find the only work now available involves plots in which, without warning, a husband leaves, almost always for a younger woman (though not in this case), our heroine can’t have a child or looses one, she finds her birth parent and has to adjust to this new personality she feels ambivalant towards, a new and perfect man intrudes upon her misery with passionate and politically correct, if not unconditional, love. So, I sat in the theater, arms folded across my chest, chin thrust forward with an attitude of “do better than that or go directly to cable!”

What saves this film is really good portrayals by all the stars of charming personalities who are intelligent and witty. This is not a roller coaster ride, but a jaunt, a stroll, if you please, through a portion of a very nice lady’s life. Stability crumbles with painful disappointments and exhilarating new opportunities. This is how life goes, usually not all within a few short weeks, but movies tend to condense experiences. I care about April, played by Helen Hunt. I’m

Helen Hunt, always the love interest, the lead’s understanding help mate, the mother of the exception child, the constant and common sense of so many films in the last decade, has finally taken the reigns of her career now that she is of a certain age. She directs, co-produces, writes the screenplay for “Then She Found Me,” based on the novel by Elinor Lipman, and stars as a 21st Century Pauline, facing the perils so many women of our generation have to deal with: abandonment, the desire to have a child, mid-life dating, adoption and reconciliation with parents. There are no great insights here, no edge-of-your-seat moments, no guffaws, one tear (on my part).

This is the fodder of “women’s networks,” minus the disease, abusive husband, kidnappings, and revenge. This film is not out to do anything but show the daily occurrences in the life of an ordinary woman, a kindergarten teacher trying to have a family. The question is: is this an entertaining gimps or a boring rehash of what we all already know? Don’t believe Leonard Maltin who says men will like this movie. Don’t drag them kicking and screaming into the theater. Go with your girlfriends.

Note: I like the use of religion in this film. April was adopted into a practicing Jewish home and carries on the traditions of prayer, Shabbat and other religious observances. She’s not orthodox, she’s not kosher, but she doesn’t forget God in her daily life. So, now I know adoption is sufficient for conversion. Will she raise her child in the same faith?
Another Note speaking of religion: Nice to see Salman Rushdie playing the obstetrician / fertility specialist. How liberating not to be on a religious fanatic’s death list and being able to widen his career choices.

My Blueberry Nights (2008)
Director: Kar-Wai Wong
Writers: Kar-Wai Wong, Lawrence Block
Cast: Norah Jones, Jude Law, David Strathairn, Natalie Portman, Rachel Weisz
90 minutes
Rate: PG13

Love hurts -- in each person a different way. Blueberry Nights tenderly and respectfully explores the many forms taken by broken hearts. A young woman finds out her boyfriend is cheating on her; she goes to their favorite cafe where he’s seen on a surveillance tape dining with a new love. She adds her keys to a fishbowl of keys on the café counter, all waiting to be taken back, but only left behind like the people they represent. The cafe owner patiently waits for his love to return. When asked why he doesn’t search for her, he says, “My mother taught me that if I ever get lost I should stay where I am and I’ll be found again.” A cop drinks to forget, always promising this is his last night of drunkenness. A gambling woman can’t forgive her father even when she’s told he’s dying.

And what does it take for these shattered, damaged, love sick, people to start again, if they can at all? Some take a road trip, some love again, some can’t. All these characters are noble in their own ways, all tragic, and some hopeful. Cold hearted as I am -- dare I say it -- I felt their pain. No, I can’t say it. I empathized! Yet, I was not depressed by this exploration of losers at love. I felt sublimely touched.

Great performances by David Straithern and Natalie Portman. Solid performances by Jude Law and Norah Jones in her first film role. Rachel Weisz showed a whole new level of acting in her career -- intense and seductive.

Where in the World is Osama Bin Laden? ( 2008)
Directed by Morgan Spurlock
Cameraman: Daniel Marracino
90 min.
Rated: PG

Think Spurlock is going to find Osama when all the resources of the United States couldn’t (that is, if they really wanted to)? Think he’d live to tell the tale? Duh. This film turns out to be a travelogue through several countries in the East. I have to admit, I am confused about which East. I think everybody agrees that the Far East includes China, Japan, Mongolia and Korea. When I was in school what is now called the Middle East was the Near East. I guess it’s moved further away now. He goes to Egypt, Saudi Arabia, Israel/Palestine, Morocco, and Jordan, all what I learned back in the day were Near East countries. All these countries are significant in Bin Laden’s past. Spurlock even explores the caves of Afghanistan and treks into Pakistan, which all fingers point (literally) to as the final destination. By the way, I learned the Middle East was Pakistan, India, Bhutan, Tibet, Nepal, Thiland, Burma, and Biafra. Check a map.

Along the way, Spurlock interviews many Muslims, all intelligent, charming, calm, lucid. Some are poverty stricken, some middle class, some educators and some government representatives. He approaches people on the street and makes appointments with officials None are suicide bombers, none call him heathen infidel and attack him with a saber. Almost all say they hate the government of the United States, but they don’t hate the people. Occasionally, we get the anti-American viewpoint, in response to which Spurlock looks pensive and contrite. Almost all reassure us viewers that they’re good people, just like us, who want to live in peace, who pray to the same God as Christians and Jews, who interpret the Koran as a peace loving doctrine that preaches love of ALL people as the children of God. I believe we got the majority opinion, if not representatives of the terrorist side. I couldn’t help wonder what was left on the cutting room floor.

If this film takes the pressure off Muslims in this country while seeking true solutions to the conflict, it’s more than done its job. Spurlock keeps the tempo fast and the jaunt fun and positive. You can’t ask more of one lone hero.

Forbidden Lie$ (2007)
Documentarian: Anna Broinowski
Subject: Norma Khouri
104 minutes
Not rated but a couple of curse words and a little fake blood. Deal with it.

Going into see "Forbidden Lies," I expected another "Shattered Glass" story, and I love a good expose of journalists, biographers, reporters and their ilk being revealed as frauds. A film about either fabricating a story from whole cloth or embellishing to the point of loosing sight of the truth in toto and being found out is always good fun. Take last year's "The Hoax", for instance. Actually, that didn't seem very good sport since it was too easy to out Clifford Irving as a liar regarding his "authorized" biography of Howard Hughes; Hughes was still alive and all he had to do, and did do, was call the publisher and say he didn't authorize diddly.

Not only does the documentary "Forbidden Lies" enumerate countless (oxymoron) lies in the book "Forbidden Love," written by Norma Khouri, but juxtaposes countless interviews of Khouri with other journalists and relevant individuals who counter her every assertion.

Then we find out this is happening concurrently. Khouri is still defending her book after its being exposed. Does she really have a friend, any friend, in Lebanon who in 1997 or 2001 or at any time was killed by her brother or her father by gun or knife in an honor crime (one in which the honor of a family is defended) for having a non-Moslem boyfriend? Khouri's made a fortune from this best seller which has been translated into 17 languages. She says she has donated large sums to non-profits which are fighting for the rights of women in Lebanon. She says the money and fame are only secondary to getting the word out about the vast numbers of women being killed in Lebanon in honor killings each year. No non-profit organizations could be found that received any money from her.

Okay, she stands up to the onslaught of criticism, even taking lie detector tests. She does not retreat. "I am telling the truth," she avers and holds her ground. The 73 factual errors and her responses to attacks are fascinating, and forming an opinion of her veracity is not so easy. The question becomes how far from the facts can an author stray before the work becomes fiction? For example, if I wrote a book about my grandfather leaving Russia before the onslaught of the pogroms by the Bolsheviks -- his "Painted Bird" journey at the age of 14 from Odessa to Bremen, including the people who helped him, the people who betrayed him, stole from him, beat him -- my only actually knowing there was a pogrom and doing some research about the extant facts, would that be a biography or a fictional excursion into a time and place using my grandfather's name? Oh, I'd also have to change his name to protect relatives still living in Russia. Food for thought.

But the real kick in the head is where the investigation leads. I wouldn't take the delicious shock away from the future audience by even suggesting where it will go, but go it does until we almost loose sight of the causal book itself. Filmmaker Broinowski obviously takes more pleasure in revealing the onion layers of facts than forming an opinion and trying to foist it on the audience. Just know that the description of the film I give is only half of what is revealed about Khouri and her life. Hold onto your seat; it's going to be a bumpy rid.

Flawless (2007)
Director: Michael Radford
Writer: Edward A. Anderson
Cast: Demi Moore, Michael Caine, Lambert Wilson, Joss Ackland
Rated: PG13

All you corporate heads, let this be a warning to you. Don't mess with the lady. The glass ceiling that limits the potential of women in the work place can cut you in the ass. As they say, "We're not going to take it any more!"

And here lies the backbone of the plot of Flawless. It's the early 60's, and Llaura Quinn (Demi Moore) is a loyal, talented and hard working employee of Royal Diamond, thinly veiled cover for De Beers. She has been skipped for promotion several times only because she's a woman, with lesser men taking the prize. Her ideas for company policy are so good, they have to fire her since only upper management should know them. She's even being blackballed from any company that has ever done business with Royal Diamond. Well, backed against the wall as she is, she has no alternative but to rob them of a few well-chosen diamonds and make a life for herself elsewhere. She reluctantly agrees to helpMr. Hobbs (Michael Caine), a janitor in the building who as devised a working plan for the heist.

There are requisite plot twists, tense moments of near exposure, a suave, a cunning insurance detective, and a lots of the unexpected turns, emotional and well as plot. Interestingly, the background tension is caused by protests by the public condemning the company for the exploitation of African miners, blood diamonds, inhumane conditions, monopolism, backroom deals with the Russians and even control of the British monarchy.

Obviously, times haven't changed. De Beers still controls the artificial price and sales of all diamond in the world. Queen Elilzabeth still only wears diamonds in public, having stored her rubies, emeralds, sapphires and other colored stones in a closet per agreement. Third world peoples who mine and cut diamonds are still being exploited. And women still don't earn as much as men for the same jobs nor proportionately hold high level jobs. Perhaps another heist is in the coming.

Run, Fatboy, Run (2007)
Director: David Schwimmer
Screenplay: Simon Pegg and Michael Ian Black
Cast: Simon Pegg, Thankdie Newton, Hank Azaria, Dylan Moran, Harish Patel
Rated: PG13

Just yesterday I was having a discussion with Kevin Robinson, the executive director of Medium Rare, about actors, and all people for that matter, who come from mixed racial families including Black, but identify with only the Black community. Kevin suggested that as a persecuted minority, Blacks are always looking for "brothers and sisters." True, but I also suggested that the white majority would segregate and/or identify people as Black if they had any Black blood in them, and to continue to identify oneself as Black with only partial Black heritage was to continue this racist practice.

Case in point: When Halle Berry won the Academy Award for "Monsters Ball," she held the Oscar high above her head and claimed this was for all black women. Quick cut to her white mother in the audience. I couldn't help but feel bad for her mother, nullified as a contributor to the talent, beauty and whole person Halle Berry is on International television to an audience of one billion. To ignore that she is half white is to not only be proud of being an African American, but also to submit to the guidelines drawn by plantation owners 300 years ago who would deny the kinship of their slave-mothered children.

Here's where I'm going -- "Run, Fatboy, Run" costars Thandie Newton (whose previous works include "Jefferson in Paris" in which she played Thomas Jefferson's slave mistress who bore him several children whom Jefferson freed after his death though did not publicly claim them as his children) as Libby, a pregnant woman left at the alter by Dennis, a slightly overweight and out of shape Fatboy played by Simon Pegg. In the wedding party are her Black mother, White father and white cousin. We skip to 5 years later and see Libby with her 5 year old son, apparently White. There is no mention of race, mixed marriages, social implications... nothing. This movie has absolutely nothing to do with inter-racial couples, their offspring and social ramifications of such. The characters just have that background. What a wonderful breath of fresh, unfettered air!

The movie is about Dennis, spurred on by Libby's relationship with a new man, successful, confident and loving Whit, played by Hank Azaria, to try to finally become responsible and hopefully get Libby back. The ultimate test is a running marathon between Dennis and Whit, and 10,000 others, along the Thames in London. Ergo, Dennis has to get in shape to run. David Schwimmer of TV's "Friends" fame does a very convincing job of capturing the flavor and humor of British comedies. I wouldn't have guessed a Yank, and a New York actor, yet, had directed. The movie is humorous, though not as hysterical as "Shaun of the Dead" (2004) or "Hot Fuzz" (2007), but it's hard to imagine what could be. All three films star and are co-written by Simon Pegg -- obviously a filmic power to be reckoned with. Perhaps zombies flicks ("Shaun") and murder mysteries ("Hot Fuzz") can follow more plot twists and turns than romantic comedies, but I found "Run, Fatboy, Run" pretty predictable, though the characters, especially Dennis, endearing. Special kudos to Dylan Moran as Gordon, Dennis' best friend and Libby's cousin. His performance as the gambling, womanizing rogue was in perfect counterpoint to Dennis' cloddish sincerity.

Married Life (2007)
Director: Ira Sachs
Writers: Ira Sachs, Oren Moverman
Cast Chris Cooper, Pierce Brosnan, Patricia Clarkson, Rachel McAdams, David Wenham

How little we know about the ones we love. In this post WWII suburban American, environment, long time married couple Harry and Pat seem to know nothing about each others true feelings and hidden lives. Harry (Chris Cooper) is deeply in love with a younger woman, Kay (Rachel Adams), but fears if he tried to divorce Pat (Patricia Clarkson), it would destroy her. Pat also has a younger lover (David Wenham) who truly makes her happy in a way Harry never could, but she knows Harry needs her. Let us not forget that Harry and Pat are a loving couple who are respectful of, and have deep feelings for, each other.

How do they resolve their problems? Pat will keep her relationship a secret and just continue as she is -- secretly meeting her lover and being a good wife to Harry. Harry will save the pain and suffering Pat would face without him and poison her. Hmmmm. Dare I say typical gender solutions? By the way, I’m not giving anything away; the movie trailer says it all.

Add to the mix their best friend, Richard (Pierce Brosnan) who, though he’s been close to the couple for years, he is immediately taken by young Kay and forgoes any sense of loyalty to his friends to get her. Through “good advice”, “helpful, selfless acts” and maneuvering, he makes sure he gets what he wants. And even Kay, Harry’s naive, smitten lover, deceives and disappoints. Keep in mind, these are civilized, upper middle class, well adjusted, people who never raise their voices, and always try to ee the other person’s side on every issue.

This would be a very funny film, if it weren’t directed in a suspenseful, straight-faced manner. That is consummate dry wit. It’s brilliant! I will never trust anyone again because “Married Life” makes it clear to me that everybody lies so convincingly, everybody’s out for him or her self, and will say and do what’s necessary to spare the feelings of others while getting what he or she wants. Still, all the characters were so charming, genuine and good-intentioned, you have to love them all and hope that in the end, they’re all happy - the whole deceiving, murderous, manipulative, adulterous lot of them. It couldn’t have been easy for this wonderful cast to play such low characters while maintaining the audience’s favor. Kudos to all of them.

Honeydripper (2007)
Writer / Director: John Sayles
Cast: Danny Glover, Lisa Gay Hamilton, Yaya DaCosta, Charles S. Dutton, Vondie Curtis-Hall, Gary Clark,. Jr., Mable John, Stacey Keach, Mary Steenburgen.
Rated: PG 13

Sayles has done it again -- writing about times and places of which he has no direct knowledge and doing it convincingly and compassionately. Back in 1983, Sayles looked into the heart of a Lesbian who finally understands and accepts herself and changes her life accordingly, decades before Lesbianism in films was accepted and certainly before the girl-on-girl kiss was mandatory, as it seems to be now. He also delved into Harlem and it’s day-to-day life, ironically through the eyes of an alien, in “Brother from Another Planet,” in 1984. Topics that have interested him have included government corruption in an industrial city, women seeking babies to adopt in Mexico, a doctor traveling through a revolutionary-torn country of no specific name (Spanish language film), exploring the Irish myth of seal people, giant albino alligators in the sewer system of New York City, the 1919 World Series Black Sox scandal, coal mining unionization, and many more diverse themes. He was even one of the screen writers on “The Spiderwick Chronicles.” His genre is all genres, and all with impeccable scripts (Sayles won the MacArthur Fellowship Foundation [genius award] in 1983) and sensitive, actorly directing.

“Honeydripper” is no exception. I get the feeling that this is a very respectful look into a community from the outside. Even if I didn’t know a white man wrote and directed this film, I would think an outsider had made it: maybe because the true anger by blacks towards whites isn’t there or the gritty approach taken by most black directors is softened and takes on a my lyrical quality.

Taking place in post-World War II rural Alabama, Tyrone Purvis (Danny Glover) has a scheme to get his club back in the black. He hires a famous black rock ‘n roll guitarist/singer, Guitar Sam, and advertises the engagement with flyers all over town. The celebrity doesn’t show, so Purvis takes a young boy who has a homemade guitar out of the police-enforced cotton picking gang and has him perform.

Sayles explores the issue of self-respect for the black man in the south. Not only does Purvis not want to give up his business and find some other kind of job, but he wants to earn at least as much as his wife who is a housekeeper. The pressures on the “independent black man” of this era is also made clear: the club’s building owner wants to take the building back from Purvis who is delinquent in his rent, the corrupt sheriff (Stacey Keach) feels a deep-seated animosity toward Purvis particularly because he is relatively independent, credit is not extended to a black club proprietor and his business is in jeopardy as a result. Still, this is a positive, almost caper-like film in which there is always a way with ingenuity, if not faith. And as for faith, Purvis’ wife Delilah, played by Lisa Gay Hamilton, is going through a crisis of it. After years of tent revivals and a variety of religions, she still hasn’t been moved by the Lord, to her own chagrin. Seems belief in God isn’t enough in that culture and she is deficit which causes her tremendous distress.

This film is also about a change in the music of that time -- from blues to rock ‘n roll. It shows how hard it is for some to make the transition and the sense of loss the replacement of blues brings to the classic performers of that former time. But rock n’ roll can not be denied. All of the music is great and I’d certainly want the CD from the film.

Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day (2008)
Director: Bharat Nalluri
Writers: David Magee, Simon Beaufoy
Cast: Frances McDormand, Amy Adams, Lee Pace, Ciaran Hinds Shirley Henderson, Mark Strong
Rated: PG13

I’ve thought a lot about why I enjoyed this film so much and yet was so terribly disappointed by “These Foolish Things,” which came out earlier last here. They’re both about a young girl coming to London to become a stage star. They both take place very shortly before WWII begins. Both girls have three suitors and must choose one. But the differences are even more telling than the similarities.

“TFT” takes itself seriously in recreating a genre that was romantic and entertaining 60 years ago, loosing all freshness in the rehashing. “MP” fondly revisits the genre with wit and a unique British aplomb. Where Zoe Tapper’s young girl in “TFT” is sincere, virginal, and droll, Amy Adams’ ingénue is feisty, sexually indiscriminate, bubbly and contrite. You’d be hard put to separate them by physical appearance in a line up, but happy to spend some time with frenetic Amy while finding Zoe soporific.

Seeing Adams draped in a towel like Venus on the Halfshell by Botticelli, with accompanying seascape as the mural on her bathroom wall is priceless. Amy telling Miss Pettigrew she simply can’t turn away the next suitor coming to her door because it’s his apartment is riotous and unexpected. And Shirley Henderson as the vituperous (literally) fashion designer with a voice that hisses more than speaks is mesmerizing.

Least we forget, Frances McDormand, as the straight-laced nanny who keeps loosing her jobs because she can’t abide the habits of her charges’ parents’, is the true centerpiece of the film. McDormand plays Pettigrew as a quiet, downtrodden, hard on her luck, out of work woman who desperately needs to eat something. She takes the job of a social secretary for Amy Adams’ Delysia Lafosse and in one day of employment she has more life changing and appearance changing experiences, more fun and deepest lows of her life. And through it all, she never loses her composure. We are fortunate to take this wild ride with her.

I have the sneaking suspicion that costume designer Michael O’Connor was rummaging around a schlock shop in London and found a treasure trove of circa 1930 ladies under garments. Upon his showing the underwear to writers David Magee and Simon Beaufoy, they were inspired to write the screenplay for the movie. It just seems like the core, or whalebone, of the film upon which all else is draped. References to “unmentionables” are spiced throughout -- we even go to a ladies foundation fashion show. Lafosse constantly shows off her underclothes between the many wardrobe changes. Cieran Hinds, who plays a bra designer, says he much prefers the honesty of men’s haberdashery! What fun!

Romulus, My Father (2007)
Director: Richard Roxburgh
Writer: Nick Drake from Raimond Gaita’s memoir
Cast: Eric Bana, Franka Potente, Marton Csokas, Russell Dykstra, Kodi Smit-McPhee, Jacek Koman
Rated: R

This is the true story of a man’s memories of his father, Romulus (Eric Bana), a quiet, strong, gentle man. We are shown glimpses of their lives together during young Raimond’s (Kodi Smith-McPhee) childhood in the backland, if not the outback, of Australia, outside Melbourne, in the 1960's. They eat their breakfast, Romulus refilling Raimond’s glass of milk and silently smiling as the boy forces it down, a trip to town, work on the homestead. These are short memories, as much about the sky and season as about the exchange between father and son, as memories often are. There is almost no dialogue because their lives are sincere, straightforward and uncomplicated... until absent mom, Christina (Franka Potenta), comes back for a visit. Her restless spirit forces her to leave, her love for her family brings her back, and this yo yo effect is even harder on Romulus than it is on Raimond. His calm swings to depression, his silence deepens, his mood darkens.

This quiet, beautifully shot and poignant film gets to the heart of a father-son relationship, their unspoken love, their steadfast routine, and their need to cope with the disruptive influence of a woman who is, herself, a tortured soul.

Eric Bana, Kodi Smit-McPhee and , Franka Potente, as well as the supporting cast, all communicate their deepest feelings to us and each other with no wasted energy, saving it all for their labors in this dry and unforgiving land. We feel no less for them for their taciturn nature and empathize with all of them -- there are no evildoers or selfish villains. They’re all just doing the best they can -- trying to find some kind of happiness and equanimity.

Surely, director Richard Roxburgh’s background as an actor had a lot to do with his choices for these characters’ behavior. This is Roxburgh’s first directing gig, having spent the last two decades acting in such films as “Oscar and Lucinda” (one of my all time favorites), “Mission Impossible”, “Van Helsing” and “Moulin Rough.” As they say in acting class, “less is more,” and it couldn’t be more true here.

This is also a tale about immigrants. Romulus is Yugoslavian and his wife, Christine is German. Romulus is called Jack, the default Australian name, by neighbors because Romulus is too difficult. There seems to be no problems with prejudice in this film, just loneliness and a sense of abandonment, a “being far from home” feeling which comes from giving up the extended family for opportunity in a new land and trying desperately to hold on to the nuclear family while re-establishing oneself on the other side of the world.

No Regret (Huhwihaji anha - Korean) (2006)
Director/Writer: Hee-il Lee-song
Cast: Han-Lee, Young-hoon Lee, Hyeon-cheol Jo, Dong
Rated: R
113 minutes

Any denizen of LGBT film festivals or those who seek out gay films have seen it several times before -- gay Asian guy in love with another guy is still forced by his parents to marry some poor, unknowing girl for appearances. We've also seen many films on male prostitution. It's possible that the Korean public is not as familiar with these themes as the larger population, so why not one more take on them? And this is certainly a strong contender for best in its sub-genre.

Song Jae-min (played by Han Lee) is a successful businessman from a prominent family who falls hards for, first, his limo driver, Su-min (played by Young-hoon Lee), whom he meets again the next day at Su-min's day job in the factory Son Jae-min's father owns, and then again at a male brothel where Su-min also works. This has to be kismet. Can't get him out of his face, can't get him out of his mind.

I have often wondered why any two people fall in love with each other in films other than to propel the plot. I don't get why Song Jae-min is obsessed with Su-min, who is a surly dude and not any more attractive than any of the other boys for hire. Maybe it's a Korean thing.Anyway, Su-min is not allowing himself to fall for Song Jae-min. Between the difference in their socioeconomic status, education,career paths, and prevailing feelings toward gays in Korean society, Su-min knows any relationship with Song Jae-min is doomed. There are a lot of issues in this film which keep the audience's interest high. It's interesting that the large influx of men from the country to Seoul can expect the only jobs available to them (especially in which they can earn a living wage) is prostitution. Hearing the other working boys' stories, one feels sympathetic toward these victims of a class/education caste system. There seems to be no social mobility, with education being out of the reach of rural or working class people. It's pretty much the same all over when it comes to gays coming out, though. We in San Francisco forget that most of the world still won't accept homosexuality -- from family, to employment, to legal rights. If you want to see the worst cases of bigotry against homosexuals, check out "Jihad for Love," which is a documentary that explores the legal repercussions of being gay in Muslim countries. The Koreans have got it easy.

The plot of "No Regret" is not completely predictable. The denouement is thrilling, unexpected, and more than satisfying. It would be interesting to see how the Koreans respond to this film; where are they in the homosexual-acceptance scale? Since "The Host," a couple of years ago, I'm taking Korean cinema much more seriously. They have learned how to use techniques the masters developed in New Age French Cinema, they have developed a mature sense of plot and character, and they take chances. More, please.

Penelope (2006)
Director: Mark Palansky
Writer: Leslie Caveny
Cast: Christina Ricci, James McAvoy, Catherine O'Hara, Reese Witherspoon, Peter Dinklage, Richard E. Grant
Rated: PG

Another example of the New Age Fairy Tale, complete with witch, family curse, gothic mansion, blue bloods and an otherwise beautiful, young girl cast under a disfiguring spell.

And it’s not modern just because it takes place today, but because the damsel is neither in a coma nor being helped by dwarfs (or dwarves, as the case may be). As a matter of fact, little person, Peter Dinklage is a vengeful paparazzi out to expose her rather than break the spell for her.

Since birth, Penelope (Christina Ricci) has been under a spell. Her ancestor impregnated a servant, but his family convinced him not to marry her. She committed suicide and her mother cursed the family -- all girl children will be horribly ugly. For all the generations since, the family has produced boys until Penelope, luckily avoiding the spell. But now Penelope needs to break the spell, which demands that someone of her ilk must love her despite her deformity (which can’t be corrected by rhinoplasty, by the way). So, Penelope is hidden away from the public, interviewing young blue blood males through a one way mirror, hoping to find a man who will marry her and render her beautiful. After years of fruitless interviews through a one way mirror, culminating in her in-person appearance and the suitors fleeing, Penelope, tired of hiding from the paparazzi and being cooped up in the mansion, flees her protective cocoon and faces the world.

We find out that no matter how grotesque the deformity, the public gets used to it and even embraces the oddity. Remember, even the Elephant Man held salon in his hospital room without narry a whimper from his newfound elite friends. Penelope has freed herself, and even with the deformity, she has a good life. She doesn’t need a man to transform her into a beauty. Halleluiah! This had to have been written by a woman -- Leslie Caveny in her first feature film gig after over a decade of producing and writing for TV, most notably for “Everybody Loves Raymond”? Not that I’m a ferocious feminist, but it’s nice to see women solving their problems and being independent. Of course, this is not the first of its kind. There have been several retellings of Cinderella, including “Elle Enchanted” and most recently, “Enchanted,” all with stronger women who didn’t wait around the knight to save her. And it’s not in the least less romantic. Also, Reese Witherspoon flexed her feminine muscle and co-producer (with 12 other producers) this film. Go girl.

Now, tell me if I’m wrong, but I believe that over the course of the film, Penelope’s deformity was ever so slightly altered to make it less ugly. Or was I getting use d to it?

Vantage Point (2008)
Director: Pete Travis
Writer: Barry L. Levy
Cast: Dennis Quaid, Matthew Fox, Forest Whitaker, Sigourney Weaver, William Hurt, Zoe Saldana

The President of the United States (William Hurt), or POTUS (first heard in the first episode of “The West Wing”), attends a meeting of Western and Arab nation heads of state whose goal is to put an end to terrorism. A public meeting takes place in a large square in Salamanca, Spain. How could terrorists not make a point of targeting this event? The President is shot, a thud is heard in the distance, and then a bomb goes off in the square. Chaos ensues. This is the opening scene of “Vantage Point.” Then the scene is rewound and played again, this time instead of from the perspective of the network television director (Sigourney Weaver) situated in van just outside the square, to that of Secret Service Agent (Dennis Quaid). This film plays much like an episode of “24" constantly being rewound, each time from a different player’s perspective, each time delving deeper into the workings of the conspiracy, each time going a bit further into the future to see what happens after the initial event.

It all matches up; it all makes sense. I’m sure this was a very difficult feat for an American production in which details that make a plot coherent are usually sacrificed during the constant rewrites and acquiescences to demands of various producers and stars during shooting. The only thing that didn’t make sense, an obvious requirement of all big budget action thrillers, was the long, long, long car chase scene. Must have taken at least 10 minutes because it felt like 20. And wuss that I am, I was concerned about bystanders getting hurt through all of it. At the end of the chase, we find via an aerial shot, that the whole chase took about 3 blocks.

For the actionophiles out there, this will more than satisfy -- it’s fast and bloody. Or if you like to think during a film, it’s interesting to see the different levels of the plot unfold, to watch characters who seemed good turn evil and who seemed evil turn good - or both reveal their true allegiances. That any of the characters have a past or are family or relationships is just icing on the cake. Who cares? This is an action driven Rubik’s cube and the little colored pieces are flashing before our eyes. We’re busy. The camera moves won’t make you nauseous even though much of it is from the perspective of tourist Forest Whitaker’s little camera and news cameramen running for their lives. What did make me nauseous was the final low angel shot of Quaid looking so noble and patriotic - smarmy. And from now on, we’ll all look at our President at public functions differently and much more closely.

A few questions I wouldn’t mind having answered after you’ve seen the film:
Why did that guy talk to Whitaker in the plaza?
Why didn’t the NSA always believe the President appearing in a public square during an anti-terrorist meeting of heads of state was a high risk situation?
Why did the terrorists do what they did to the president (can’t say -- that would be giving it away)?

The Other Boleyn Girl (2008)
Director: Justin Chadwick
Writer: Peter Morgan
From the book by Philippa Gregory
Cast Natalie Portman, Scarlett Johansson, Eric Bana, Kriston Scott Thomas
Rated: PG

I checked with Wikipedia to see how much author Philippa Gregory had played with history for her book “The Other Boleyn Girl”. I had never heard of Ann Boleyn’s sister Mary before. I had heard of Henry VIII’s second wife who, like his first wife, could not bear him a son even though her offspring would eventually become Elizabeth I, whose films credits far exceed even Abraham Lincoln’s (and I’m not referring to cameo appearances, but real lead roles). I knew that to be able to divorce his first wife, Catherine of Aragon, he had to break with the Church of Rome and create a new religion, the Church of England, which came in handy later on. I knew Ann was beheaded on trumped up charges of treason so he could get rid of her and move on to his next bride, Jane Seymour, still hoping for a male heir.

This much historic background made watching these characters interplay on a vivid canvas more interesting and involving. But Wikipedia said Mary Boleyn’s affair was over long before her son from her marriage was born. So, it seems that competition between sisters is more metaphorical than actual. Still, it was intriguing watching the two loving sisters being jockeyed by their father and uncle to fill the void in Henry’s life when he found out his wife “no longer bled,” meaning she was past child bearing age. These girls were thrust into the political turmoil of life at the castle, being taken, one eagerly, the other with some resistance, from their idyllic country home, to strut before the king like cats in heat. The tides of the king’s affections were as changing and almost as often as the tides at the seashore. With his favor could come honor, title, lands and great accommodations at the castle; when angered, all could be lost, even one’s head. So, the stakes were high.

This is a tale about the lack of power among women (at least till the next generation of Elizabeth’s rule - well, she ruled, but I don’t think she gave any rights to women in her reign) and how those who overstep invisible lines are punished. This is a tale about parents using their children to jockey for more favorable positions in the mercurial atmosphere of the halls of power. This is a story about two late Medieval sisters obeying their parents and the king, trying to maintain their status and perhaps even advance to the detriment of their relationships with each other and the people they loved.

We don’t get to see the world of politics and the affairs of royalty in the international arena as we had in Cate Blanchett’s and other’s renditions of Elizabeth. This is the girls’ perspective of life in the royal court. Also, I believe the British Empire surged in size and complexity with the discovery of the Americas and world exploration that started in 1942 and increased in the late 16th Century, after Henry and during Elizabeth’s reign.

Portman and Johansson played the English sisters (both with just passing English accents), but powerfully and convincingly. Eric Bana played the easily the most attractive Henry, who actually was a glutton and died of a burst stomach, looking much more like Charles Laughton (see “The Private Life of Henry VIII” 1933). Bana sure made it more believable that the sisters would betray each other for his love. I also now more clearly understand the accusation of treason and Anne’s motivations behind her actions.

This is a sexy, lavish, interesting and insightful look into the lives of royalty and their hangers on. It’s subtle; only a woman could have described the changes in heart and actions that take place in these sisters -- between them and towards the king, and by the way, the frustration of their mother (played by Kirsten Scott Thomas) with no power to stop the oncoming tragedy.

Under the Same Moon (2007)
Director: Patricia Riggen
Writer: Liviah Villalobos
Cast: Kate Del Castillo, Adrian Alonso,
Rated: PG 13

This is a picaresque tale of a 9 year old boy boldly going out into a dangerous world on a quest. His mother snuck into the United States 4 years earlier to build a better life and eventually have her son join her. It’s taken longer than she thought. In the meantime, her son, Carloads, living with her mother, longs to be with her again. When grandma dies, Carloads packs up and crosses the border in search of his mother, Rosario. This is not a Tijuana to L.A. jaunt, but across the Rio Grande into Texas, then the long desert highway crossing to Los Angeles. Along the way, he meets many people, some dangerous, some kind, some who would like to be left alone. All tell him he should go to the police so he can be deported safely home. He is adamant in his determination to find his mother.

Meanwhile Rosario wonders if she’s made a mistake in leaving Carlitos, and often resolves to return home to him and give up her dream of their being reunited in California.

Will Carlitos make it to California unharmed? We are reminded of the trafficking of children as sex slaves and see him narrowly escape that fate. Coincidentally, Kate Del Castillo who plays Rosario, played the evil trafficker of young flesh in the recent film, “Trade.” This time she is on the other side of the issue.

Will he go hungry? Will he loose track of his goal in the company of good people, with a regular job and food in his stomach? Will he and his mother ever meet again? It was a joy watching the very talented Adrian Alonso as Carlitos traverse the obstacles with intelligence, determination and plain old adorableness. Hope to see him in many films to come.

It is interesting to see the female perspective of illegal immigration, as shown by writer Liviah Villalobos and director Patricia Riggen, but this would not be considered a “woman’s film” unless you read the credits carefully. As hard as it is for the migrant workers avoiding insecticide and evading the INS, it is just as hard for the maids, babysitters and seamstresses to get a foothold in a new country. This story is sensitively written, directed and portrayed. It’s no “El Norte” in the pain and suffering experienced by the desperate and abject, but perhaps more indelible as the immigrant experience we happily settled citizens can empathize with.

The U.S. as a land of opportunity doesn’t seem so golden in this film. One is led to wonder if Rosario ever should have left her family behind just to become a maid and dressmaker for a meager living. Life doesn’t seem that much better for her north of the border. But really, the question is -- should she sacrifice being with her family to get a start in a country where one can grow? This is not specifically addressed in the film, only the hardships of families being separated and trying to regroup in the hopes of finding a place where opportunities exist. That the United States offers a future for immigrants is a given. That’s why they come here, not to get on welfare or to steal jobs. That’s why all of my grandparents came here -- to work, to have their children educated and do better than they themselves have done. “Under the Same Moon” puts human faces on immigrants in this election year. I would welcome Rosario and Carlitos to my home, my grandparents’ adopted country.

The Counterfeiters (2007)
Director/writer: Stefan Ruzowitzky
Cast: Karl Markovics, August Diehl, Devid Striesow, Dolores Chaplin, August Zirner, Marie Bäumer
98 minutes
Rated R
Academy Award nominee for best foreign language film

Another holocaust film, you say? You don't need to preach to the choir (to mix religious metaphors), I'm convinced it happened and it was truly horrible, you say? Why see another one, you ask?

It's true, all but the most rigid of Nazi-sympathizing, sociopaths are convinced that the holocaust did happen. This film is not about confirming that the holocaust is actually history. It intentionally does not describe conditions for all concentration camp victims. Instead, it is the retelling of a little known, fascinating story of a group of pre-war printers, artists and counterfeiters who were recruited from the camps to a special unit. The Germans wanted to destroy the economies of their enemies by flooding the markets with counterfeit English pounds and American dollars, so even in defeat, they would find some victory. The counterfeiters were kept in clean barracks with individual beds and linens, washing facilities, piped in classical music, water and regular meals, and a ping pong table. They were even given monthly festive nights to party and entertain themselves.

Yes, this truly happened. And they did eventually produce pound and dollar plates -- too late in the war to harm the economies of the Allies.

Issues of the counterfeiters' guilt for not only surviving the camps, but flourishing in them, and the moral conflict of helping the Nazis and hurting the Allies to keep themselves alive are explored. How does one enjoy a game of ping pong when on the other side of a wooden wall, a man is shot for running to slowly in shoes he's forced to wear that are too small for him? The soldier is reprimanded loud enough for the counterfeiters to hear for shooting the man in front of the wall possibly harming his precious workers on the other side.

The extreme situations endured in the concentration camps have become the means of exploring the humanity and moral dilemmas of it's victims and supporters. Schindler tries to save victims by getting them out of the camp and putting them to work in his munitions factory in "Schindler's List"; a Greek Jewish Olympic boxer, Salamo Arouch, spars with the Nazis in the camps in "Triumph of the Spirit"; violinist, Fania Fenelon, entertains the troops in Auschwitz in "Playing for Time"; Salomon Perel passes for an Aryan boy for most of the war and finally ends up in the camp in "Europa, Europa," Max Rosenberg has to relive the death of his wife Helen as a witness in a trial to convict a murderous labor camp commendant in "Max and Helen." And these are just a few of the true stories. These films are not just about the horrors of the concentration camps, but stories of the people who filled them, each different and meaningful. Over time, I hope there are 8 million more films about this subject in its various aspects.

An interesting note: Director/writer Stefan Ruzowitzky's grandparents were Nazis during the war.

Definitely, Maybe (2008)
Director/Writer: Adam Brooks
Cast: Ryan Reynolds, Isla Fisher, Derek Luke, Abigail Breslin, Rachel Weisz, Elizabeth Banks
Rated: PG13

I was uncomfortable watching “Definitely, Maybe,” but couldn’t exactly put my finger on what was troubling me. Then it hit me -- every child wants to believe that (in this case) her parents were made for each other, were deeply in love, and she was the product of this perfect union. They may not be able to verbalize it this clearly, but everybody wants his/her parents to have been made for each other. It is difficult enough dealing with the conflict between this idea and one’s parents divorcing, but “Definitely, Maybe”’s premise really throws a neurotic-producing wrench into the work.

When Abigail Breslin as the daughter asks her dad, played by Ryan Reynolds, to tell her how he and her mom got to be married, hoping telling the story will rekindle his love for her mom, she gets (what would be for me) the most devastating news imaginable. Dad was in love with three women and he retells these relationships to his daughter, leaving out only the sex. And she can’t even guess which one turns out to be her mom. Seems none of his descriptions of the women he would select a wife from (and eventually divorce) are recognizable to Abigail. What would a therapist think of all this? What will the repercussions to the child be? I can see her as an adult refusing to marry some guy who really loves her, telling him that if not him, someone else. It doesn’t matter. Relationships are so transient, interchangeable, ultimately doomed. Hell, my parents loved each other from the moment their eyes met on Rockaway Beach Boardwalk till the day they died and I feel the same way as this imaginary, neurotically tortured soul. This kid hasn’t got a chance.

Fathers, be warned. Never do this to your child. Never tell her you loved other women just as much, maybe more, than her mother. That’s just plain stupid. But to director/writer Adam Brooks’ credit, he made the three women interesting. No real stereotypes, though verging on them: one is the hometown girl who was engaged to dad before he left home to build a career in politics; one was the left wing, independent thinking, best friend; one was the liberated, career minded journalist, respectively Elizabeth Banks, Isla Fisher, and Rachel Weisz. We follow all three relationships over several years, waxing and waning and ending. It’s amazing he got married at all.

It has a glossy, superficial feel typical of Hollywood films. Once Abigail realizes dad really did make a detour marrying mom, she is upset for a moment instead of needing therapy 3 times a week for the rest of her life. Emotional levels never exceed 6 out of 10, not even when dad goes through a rough patch in which he grows a 5 o’clock shadow. It’s all easily digestible, making it a nice Valentine’s Day date flick.

There is an honestly about people falling in love more than once before finding the spouse or the one. We really never see it in the movies, and this perspective is refreshing. How many of us have ended up with the one we started with (outside of Mormons and Amish)? And it’s true that even after finding the spouse, over 50% of all marriages end in divorce. Kind of takes the significance out of falling in love -- and nice attempting to show it in a film. But don’t show it to you children!

Les Témoins (The Witnesses) (2007)
Director: André Téchiné
Writers: André Téchiné, Laurent Guyot, Viviane Zingg
Cast:: Michel Blanc, Emmanuelle Beart, Sami Bouajila, Julie Depardieu, Johan Libereau, Constance Dollé
Time: 1 hr. 52 min.

It’s a sad story, and one we have all become familiar with since the AIDS epidemic. Young, gay man contracts HIV, and how it effects his friends and lovers. This film takes place in France in the early 80's, when AIDS was just becoming known and feared. Director/co-writer André Téchiné says that there weren’t many films about this subject made in France and he wanted to revisit that time. He also felt he “escaped” his destiny. Perhaps that’s why the film is named Witnesses. Each of the characters could have been infected and not just bystanders.

In “Les Témoins” (The Witnesses), we see a circle of people who are effected by the AIDS epidemic, either by having contracted the disease or by caring about a victim. I use the word victim because if someone is hurt or killed through no fault of his/her own, that person is a victim. And if others who act in the same or similar ways are not infected, that’s luck and makes the other more a victim. We will never understand why some succumbed and others didn’t. We can only feel compassion and try to help those who were stricken.

But we know all this. Téchiné believes not enough has been said about this time. He says there is no “AIDS” genre. But I say there is. The plot and even many of the characters are all too familiar. If one wants to make a film about AIDS, time, energy, money and creative juices may be better spent in reminding the public that the epidemic is still a threat, that people still contract it and that the now-available treatments are not cures. I don’t need to see again how it was 20 years ago. I need an update, I want to be warned, and I want to be reminded it is not over yet.

Still, interesting points in “The Witnesses” are that Paris seemed to be very un-homophobic. There was no big to-do when a gay man was introduced to a typical middle class hetero couple. Everyone seemed to be comfortable hanging out together in their country home: gay, straight, female, male. The only bastion of macho homophobia was the police force. Also, North African people seemed to be accepted with nonchalance and only a subtle undercurrent of bias (or was it a trace of paranoia?). Couples changed partners, experimented, discussed their relationships, stood by each other. It was interesting to see the combinations of couples, the acceptance of individuality, the mutual respect.

The central character, Manu, played by John Libéreau, seemed rather stereotypical though very empathetic, The other characters were more complex and watching their responses to each other and subsequent evolution was interesting.

Still, we haven’t seen a film about people affected with HIV/AIDS that takes place in the present and since everything I know is from movies and TV (as it probably is for many of us), I would like an update, emotional, social and scientific.

Charlie Bartlett (2007)
Director: John Poll
Writer: Gustin Nash
Cast: Anton Yelchin, Robert Downey Jr., Hope Davis, Kat Dennings, Tyler Hilton, Jake Epstein
Time: 97 minutes
Rated: R

Charlie Bartlett has problems, the most significant of which is he craves being popular -- neigh, the most popular boy in school, adored by all. Because Charlie is smart and resourceful, his dream (literally) comes true.

I realized while watching this film that boy popularity and girl popularity are very different. When a girl is popular, she becomes unattainable, except to a very small clique of the most popular girls the jocks. When Charlie becomes popular, everybody says hello to him, shakes his hand, asks his advice, confides in him. I would never want to be a popular girl because then my social circle would be confined to 2 or 3 other girls and I’d have to have sex with ,ost of the meaty goons or they’d say rude things about me on the Internet and I’d be ruined. I, myself, was the best known person in high school, not to be confused with popular, but that’s another movie.

Oh, why is Charlie Bartlett’s desire to be popular a problem, you may ask. Because he gets in trouble trying to make the masses of high school students happy. Charlie is amoral. He doesn’t realize that dispensing advice in the boys room, using stalls as psychiatrist’s chair and patients’ couch, dispensing psychogenic drugs to alter mood, relieve tension and anxiety, help sleep, etc., could have dangerous repercussions, besides being illegal. He really believes he is as capable as a trained psychiatrist (having several stereotypical idiot, drug dispensing psychiatrists on retainer for home visits only fuels this misconception). He really doesn’t realize he is dangerous. He just wants to make friends.

Nonetheless, I much prefer him to Ferrisof “Ferris Beuller’s Day Off,” who thumbs his nose at authority, enjoys making the principal upset, needs to prove he is outside the petty rules others must live by. Sure, he’s got spirit and cunning, but no compassion. Ferris is smug. More recently, Reece Daniel

Thompson played stuttering, insecure and easily fooled Hal Hefner in “Rocket Science.” He was the most empathetic of the group and dispelled, if only temporarily, the notion of debate clubs being anything other than kids blathering as quickly as possible to make intellectual points in competition.

But as for high school aged characters that leave an indelible impression, the undisputed champion is Harold from the classic “Harold and Maude.” “Charlie Bartlett” wants to remind of us the iconic outsider, Harold -- living in opulent wealth with out-of-touch single mom, dressing in blazer and slacks (which Charlie eventually sheds), being an outsider (which Charlie overcomes). Cat Stevens’ “If You Want To Sing Out, Sing Out” is sung at the piano by protagonist and girlfriend again as it was originally, though now the obstacle between the couples’ happiness is not an age difference of over 50 years, but that the teenage girl’s dad is the high school principal. Okay, not too original, but student/therapist and boy popularity are interesting concepts explored in “Charlie Bartlett.”

I like Charlie, charmingly played by Anton Yelchin. He has good intentions, he’s smart, and he’s interestingly flawed. He’s not at all realistic, but the best high school film characters aren’t. (I can’t fit Napoleon Dynamite into this discussion -- that’s a whole other distinct genre.) Maybe the best thing about Charlie Bartlett is that he makes me want to revisit “Harold and Maude.”

Cassandra’s Dream (2007)
Writer/Director: Woody Allen
Cast Ewan McGregor, Colin Farrell, Tom Wilkinson, Sally Hawkins, Hayley Atwell
Time: 108 minutes
Rated: P#-13

The two brothers in this film just want to spend time with their girls on their boat (named Cassandra’s Dream). That’s heaven to them, but their individual flaws make this simple life unattainable. Terry (Colin Farrell) has a gambling problem and debts to pay to guys who intend to break his knee caps if he doesn’t. Ian (Ewen McGregor) has expensive taste in women and can’t keep up the facade of a big time entrepreneur in the hotel and entertainment business without more funds. He’s not opposed to exaggerating his finances and lifestyle to keep his beautiful actress girlfriend interested. Rich Uncle Howard (Tom Wilkinson) can solve their problems with one simple act. If they kill the guy who is going to inform the authorities about his illegal dealings -- which would cost him his wealth and freedom -- he’ll pay them handsomely. The brothers are shocked and repulsed at the prospect of killing. Eventually though, they agree and the deed is done.

The point of this film is that life has value, even a stranger’s life, even if your future happiness and security depends on destroying it. Once one has killed, one can never go back; innocence is lost and the price is far to high.

I like the message. It’s too easily forgotten in this age of hit men, assassin, crime and senseless death fare glutting the multiplexes these days. As a sidebar, I love the Coen Brothers, but hate “No Country for Old Men.” The story line is incredibly facile: a guy finds lots of drugs and money at the site of a drug deal gone bad, takes the money and runs, psychopath tracks him down to get the money, killing everyone in his path. I guess it was fun for the audience to watch Prince Valiant coiffed Bardem kill and kill and kill again. This was the simplest plot the Coens have ever come up with; too bad the public lauds it. Please compare “No Country…” to “Blood Simple” or “The Man Who Wasn’t There” or “Miller’s Crossing” for true thriller writing and directing skill.

But back to “Cassandra’s Dream” -- I like that life matters. I like people being reminded of that. There are several directors other than Woody Allen who have tackled this subject, most recently master director Sidney Lumet made “Before the Devil Knows You’re Dead” (2007), starring Phillip Seymour Hoffman (whom I consider the greatest living actor) and Ethan Hawke, similarly, as two brothers who for financial reasons are responsible for a death, this time of their mother. Hawke can not adjust to being a killer, or even complicit in a killing, while Hoffman knows one just has to suck it up and move on.

You can see the similarity between films. The difference is the superior writing skill of Kelly Masterson and far superior directing skill of Sidney Lumet, both far surpassing Woody Allen’s. Allen has been rehashing his own scripts for the last several years and hasn’t come up with an original regret-about-murder plot since “Crimes and Misdemeanors” (1989) (repeated in 2005's “Match Point”). And Allen has never been known as an actor’s director. McGregor and Farrell are fine actors. (Just take at look at “Phone Booth” to be blown away by Farrell’s performance.) But they seem uninspired and labored in this film. Whereas, you can always depend on Hoffman (Philip Seymour, that is) to give powerful, outstanding performances. And Hawke does his finest work to date in “Devil...” There really is no comparison. To empathize with a murderer, you really have to see “Before the Devil Knows You’re Dead” and wait for future performances by Ewan McGregor and Colin Farrell to enjoy their actorly skills.

Grace Is Gone (2007)
Director/Writer: James C. Strouse
Cast: John Cusack, Shelan O'Keefe, Gracie Bednarczyk (Mary Kay Place and Marisa Tomei drop in minicameos)

Honestly, I was more interested in and intrigued by Grace than the rest of the family who are intentionally drawn as just everyday, common, run of the mill, people. Think about Grace for a moment. She's been in the Army a long time. Her oldest daughter is 12 and Grace was already in the army when she met her husband-to-be. Is she a lifer, a career soldier? She's still only a sargeant; higher ranked soldiers don't get killed. We all know that. So, the Army has not been particularly good to her. She has decided to stay in the army for at least 13 years, taking pregnancy leaves, going back on duty, spend many tours in Iraq. She has not been disillusioned by this war even though we have numerous films detailing how American soldiers in Iraq find their tours there ineffectual, imperialistic, unnecessary. Or they are methodically turned into immoral monsters, whether accidentally or purposefully (for example "The Valley of Elah"). Keep in mind, everything I know is from the movies and science programs on cable.

We can tell by her wholesome, lovely face in the one photograph we see of her and by the intelligent, caring voice in the phone message which opens the film and her recorder message we hear repeatedly in the film that Grace is not desperate to earn a living off the military. She is capable, sane, loving and warm. She doesn't even have to work since her husband makes enough money already. What makes Grace decide to do what she does? Is it patriotism? There is an obvious lack on jingoistic artifacts in the house: no flag, no framed medal-- just a yellow ribbon decal on the bumper of the family car. Grace is silent on the subject of her motivation for going army.

And why did Grace marry Stanley Phillips (John Cusack) who, to Cusack's consummate acting skill, looks like a dork, walks like a dork, and sounds like a dork? What did Grace see in him that we don't?

As the film starts, Stanley is a gung-ho manager of a Home Depot-type warehouse store and a stern, yet quiet, disciplinarian to his two daughters -- not much fun to be around, not one to spur on an intellectual conversation, not one to confide in. Upon being told of his wife's death, and after quietly suffering for a day, he puts himself back together before his daughters get home from school and decides to show them a good time, a time free from discipline, worries, grief, before their childhoods are over. He doesn't tell them their mother has died, but instead takes them cross country by car to Enchanted Gardens Theme Park. His transformation into a softer, gentler, more compassionate father in preparation for the ultimate pain of their daughters learning of their mother's death is what this film is about.

Still, I keep thinking about the absent Grace. Is she a patriot who left her family, whether she lives or dies, to be road kill half a world away? Did she realize she was sacrificing her family as well as herself when she decided to stay in the military? Did she just want the benefits government work offers? What motivated her? Grace, explain yourself!

Alice’s House (A Casa de Alice) (2007)
Director: Chico Teixeira
Writers: Chico Teixeira, Julio Pessoa, Sabina Anzuategui, Marcelo Gomes
Cast: Carla Ribas, Vinicius Zinn, Ricardo Vilaça, Felipe Massuia, Berta Zemel, Zécarlos Machado (more)

Alice is a working mother and wife. She lives with her mother (who cleans, cooks, and keeps the home in perfect running order while listening to talk radio), her husband (who spends his days gambling and his night womanizing), and her three sons (who argue among themselves and watch a lot of television). Alice is a manicurist whose life has fallen into a dull routine.

When the possibility of romance and escape from this rut appears, she doesn’t hesitate. Even a work friend comments that her life resembles a soap opera - low drama. There’s no political intrigue, social upheavals, war, crime, or any other “important” issue in this film -- just the life of a typical woman in a typical city with a typical family. It could have been played more dramatically; the elements are there, but the point is this is how life is for the vast majority of people. We all get bored with our lives and we all just keep on keeping on. It could take place anywhere; this film takes place in Brazil. Differences include the more widespread acceptance of superstitions: don’t walk under a ladder, use love potions, defer always to your horoscope. Also, if Alice (played by Carla Ribas) is indicative of the culture of Rio, women are still emotionally subjugated to the old world values of marriage. I wouldn’t put up with that lazy, demanding, cheating loser of a husband (Zécarlos Machado) for a moment. Alice doesn’t toss him out on his ear. Cultural or individual choice -- it would be a real plot flaw in an American movie.

By honing in on this unspectacular family, we get to live the lives of these people, feel their fears, frustrations, temporary exhilaration and anguish. These people reflect our concerns: grandmother going blind and worrying about being put in a retirement home; Alice devastated by her husband’s infidelity and elated by her lover’s attentions, and her sons trying to find their places in life.

Maybe you don’t need to go there. You have your own lives and they probably aren’t that different from Alice’s family’s. Maybe you want to compare and contrast. Maybe you want to empathize. It’s frighteningly accurate -- right down to the television being left on when no one’s in the room.

Juno (2007)
Director: Jason Reitman
Cast: Ellen Page, Michael Cera, Jennifer Garner, Jason Bateman, Allison Janney, J.K. Simmons
Writer: Diablo Cody
PG 13

When I was invited to see “Juno” and I read the description of it, I thought, “Why go to the movies to see typical Lifetime Network fare about a pregnant teenager who gives her baby up for adoption? What’s all the noise about on this film?” I suspected it was more than just that when I checked out the cast for this film. Allison Janney (sure, she does the Kaiser commercials voice and “Sicko” made that HMOs transgressions clear), J.K. Simmons (loved him in “First Snow” and he’s the psychiatrist on “Law & Order,” therefore, not your typical After School Special actor), Jennifer Garner (Super hero, super spy, and Ben’s wife doesn’t need a project sermonizing about the dangers of sex before marriage), and Jason Bateman, too big time for that kind of teen melodrama since “Mr. Magorium’s....”. They knew something I didn’t.

So, I went to see it against my uninformed judgment. If you get over fact that this really smart, savvy, even jaded teen would have unprotected sex in the first place, and the abortion clinic is not even remotely portrayed honestly, you get a very interesting, humorous and touching view of a teenager’s experience of pregnancy with all its social complications. It is not more authentic or honest than the women’s channels TV movie fare, but it’s is smarter, hipper. It’s all in the script, and you can assume that a writer named Diablo Cody wouldn’t pump out pap.

The plot isn’t new, but the delivery by these talented actors of bright; dialogue with subtle clues to people’s true underlying intentions. It's worth the 92 minute investment. Juno (named after Zeus’ wife and not the city in Alaska), played by very talented newcomer Ellen Page, decides to have sex with her long time friend and kinda boyfriend Paulie, played by Michael Cera. She gets pregnant. An insensitive, mouth-pierced and over made-up receptionist at the Woman’s Clinic who offers raspberry flavored condoms turns Juno off, so she decides to have the baby and give it to a really good couple to raise. She goes to the Penny Saver and finds the perfect couple, Vanessa and Mark Loring, played by Jennifer Garner and Justin Bateman. We watch her interact with her family, school mates, boyfriend and perspective parents of her baby. We watch her grow physically and emotionally. This is not a “Napoleon Dynamite” view of teen pregnancy, but it has some of the elements, so it will be a fun take on the situation. Maybe high schoolers will go see the film (you know they never tune into Lifetime) and as a result be more careful. As they say, if it saves one girl from an unwanted pregnancy... You know the rest.
Note: this is the first movie that opens with animation credits that I wasn’t painfully disappointed in.

I Am Legend (2007)
Director: Francis Lawrence
Cast: Will Smith, Abbey, Alice Braga, Dash Mihok, Salli Richardson, Willow Smith, Charlie Tahan
Writers: Mark Protosevich, Akiva Goldsman
Rating PG-13 - for intense sequences of action and violence

Here’s a paradox --- how can you be a legend if you’re the last “uninfected person” on earth and there’s no one left to talk about you? I believe fear of being the last person on earth is genetically primal; we’ve all had nightmares about it. I thought my childhood dream of being alone in the city was caused by the Cold War. By the way, I didn’t mind that much. I got to drive a city bus. There is always something to make us fear the end of the world or more specifically, of being left alone on it -- from the Cold War to a meteor to the Taliban poisoning the water or using a virus to a bomb from North Korea or Iran or Libya. In “I Am Legend,” doctors of the near future create a cure for cancer which backfires and turns people into rabid, violent, non-thinking animals. Solution: more FDA trials before it’s released to the public. Oh, this is too easy.

In any case, this is not a new plot idea in film. “I Am Legend” is a remake of “The Omega Man” (1971), starring Charlton Heston, which was based on Richard Matheson’s 1954 science fiction novel, “I Am Legend.” Heston’s deserted L.A. is a far cry from today’s version with spectacular visuals of Manhattan overrun with wild grasses, herds of deer, and abandoned cars chocking the streets. Heston’s home was much better fortified, though, and his protection against the mutated population more ingenious. Smith’s survivor, like his house, is more vulnerable. He has a harder time maintaining his sanity and dealing with loneliness. Note: Smith has this penchant for getting into huge Hollywood blockbusters that still afford him a character with enough emotional range to be considered for awards. Where Heston was the stoic survivalist, Smith is getting worn down and almost suicidal. Heston would never have memorized large sections of cartoon dialogue. Smith deadpans his lip-synching of “Shrek,” a highlight of the film. Credit for maintain Smith’s sanity must be given to his constant companion Sam (Abbey), the German Shepherd, I expect since Sam was such a great dog in this film, many will consider buying a German Shepherd as a family pet. I beg you, please, no pet stores or breeders. There are many, many German Shepherds available for adoption at shelters and rescues. Just check www.petfinder.com.

“The Omega Man” was not the original source of this story of survival and isolation. In 1964, Vincent Price played the same part in the first adaptation of Matheson’s book, this time titled, “The Last Man on Earth” (1964). Price plays the doctor who is immune to the plague that turns people into bloodthirsty zombies (four years before George Romero’s “Night of the Living Dead”). He is insane with grief and loneliness, killing zombies during the day, hiding in a house with only boards on the windows at night.

What makes these men (this man) a legend is that the potential for an antidote to the virus, the possibility of human life returning and continuing on Earth is in this doctor’s hands. You may say, “but this time, the hero, the man who saves human life on earth, is black. That is progress.” Well, not exactly. Back in 1959, Harry Belafonte starred in “The World, the Flesh, and the Devil” (from the novel, “The Purple Cloud,” by M.P. Shiel) in which his character is a miner who is trapped by a small cave-in during an atomic holocaust. When he digs himself out, he finds himself alone. In Manhattan, where filming could only take place the first 2 hours of daylight each morning to effect the post-apocalyptic look, he eventually finds Swedish beauty Inger Stevens (inciting the Flesh) and Mel Ferrer (the Devil). This film (years before the civil rights movement) had hero Belafonte battle racist villain Ferrer to the death, thus leaving him and Stevens to repopulate the world. Believe it! 2000's all Caucasian cast in “The Last Man” echo that plot with a comedy bent.

“The Quiet Earth” (1985) seems to be a melding of the virus-gone-wrong and the two-men-one-woman plots. In “Where Have All the People Gone” (1974), with Peter Graves and some other name actors, solar flares are responsible for turning the world’s population to white powder. Two valley girls, as well as one Native American and a bunch of mad scientists, survive the devastating effects of the tale of Haley’s comet passing through Earth in “Night of the Comet” (1984), while the rest of the world’s population turns to red dust or zombies. And still in post-production is an adaptation of Mary Shelley’s (author of the original Frankenstein) 1826 novel, “The Last Man,” about a Russian biological weapon which cases smallpox in 98% of the worlds population.

So, why see “I Am Legend” with so much already said on the subject and more always coming down the pike? The special effects are an optic playground: destroyed bridges, wildlife taking over the silent city, very convincing and frightening mutants. The tightly edited action is heart stopping. The tension is palpable. Smith’s performance evokes heartfelt sympathy. We never suspend our disbelief enough to believe the film for a second, and that’s a good thing. May it never happen. But we do enjoy the roller coaster ride through a lonely and dangerous planet.

Youth Without Youth (2007)
Writer/Director: Francis Ford Coppola
From the Novela by Mircea Eliade
Cast Tim Roth, Alexandra Maria Lara, Bruno Ganz, Andre Hennicke, Marcel Iures
Running Time 124 minutes
Rating R - for some sexuality, nudity and a brief disturbing image (horse being experimented on – oh, how I hate that!

Seventy year old Professor Dominic Matei is just about to commit suicide when he is struck by lightening. Instead of the death he hoped for, he gets a new lease on life, and youth. His body's clock is turned back a good 40 years; he even develops a new set of teeth and some special powers, but this is no science fiction work. It plays out more dark and foreboding, an historical plot with sinister Nazi spies, doctors who experiment with large doses of electricity, sub-plots and subterfuges.

Matei, played by Tim Roth, now renewed and young, longs to continue his research into the origins of language and to finish his definitive work on the topic, a daunting task. His sudden rejuvenation not only includes a full head of hair and fresh teeth, but an increased capacity for learning, psycho kinetic power (strangely, used only once), and the appearance of a double only he can see who offers life saving advice and an alternative perspective to his problems. The woman Matei loved and lost in his youth, Laura (played by Alexandra Maria Lara), is somehow reincarnated and returned to him as Veronica. He first meets her and gives her directions on the road. Later, he finds her speaking Sanskrit in a cave higher up on the road. They and a linguist go to India to confirm many of her Sanskrit statements, proving her transmigration of soul from ancient Rupini to Veronica.

Matei and Veronica return to Europe and live together. Each night in her sleep, Veronica continues to speak in earlier and earlier languages. Bringing Matei closer to the resolution of his work, she is also dangerously affected by this talent. Should he finish his work, finally arriving at the first language, at the cost of her life?

Coppola may have bitten off more than he can chew bringing to the screen this novella by Mircea Eliade which spans over 30 years in a most idiosyncratic and confusing way. It becomes a mish mash of genres, filmic looks, plot devices and detours which include supernatural power, all without an overriding theme we can hold onto while traversing the darker side of the Eastern European mind. It seems Matei is the victim of higher fates, tugging him this way and that, confusing him and us while leading him to an unknown purpose. And I don't think I am able to forgive Coppola for a scene in which Laura, upon arriving at a lovely villa in Malta, asks Matei, "What is that bird over there?" and he responds, "Oh, that's a Maltese falcon." Is that cheap shot an indication of the flippant nature of this film? Are we supposed to be counting the references to literature and having a laugh? Gogol's doppelganger, Kafka's justifiable paranoia about an oppressive government, Chandler's Mediterranean bird of pray, Dennis Potter's "The Singing Detective"'s lover turned spy or enemy provocateur met on the street being killed? The significance of the three roses are completely lost on me. And what else?

I'm sure much could be written about Coppola's investigation of effects of the passage of time on one's body and soul, the necessity of fulfillment in one's life, the independent life of the alter ego each of us talks to in our thoughts. Much could be said about his choices of filmic styles for the different episodes of the protagonist's life in different countries at different times. Some might complain about the overpowering 1940's style music score. What I loved most about this film was the credits -- as in pre-"Star War" times, credits were brief and at the beginning of films, with a simple "The End" or "Fin" at the end.

Coppola states he wanted to make a small budget, personal film. I find it amazing that on a small budget, whatever that might be, it still looked like a glossy, big budget film. As a simple audience member, though, I felt I had to keep changing gears, not because world events are passing by at a quickening pace and the face of Europe is changing during these tumultuous times, but because the film didn't make up it's mind as to what and why it was.

The Golden Compass (2007)
Directors: Chris Weitz, Robert Shaye
Writers: Chris Weitz, Tobias Emmerich, Paul Weitz
Cast Nicole Kidman, Dakota Blue Richards, Sam Elliott, Eva Green, Daniel Craig, Tom Courtenay

I have heard a rumor that a faction of Christians is in an uproar about “The Golden Compass.” Seems it’s sacrilegious, it’s heretical, it’s poisoning the souls of children! It’s ridiculous.

We have all been raised with fairy tales, witches, wizards, goblins, monsters (in the closet and under the bed), imaginary friends, Santa Claus (yes, he is imaginary and that’s just as good as real), Easter Rabbit, cartoons in which animals speak, and on and on. Are these particular Christians upset because a girl child instead of a boy child has the key to saving the future from total mind control and a soulless existence for the particular parallel universe depicted in “The Golden Compass”? Are the only myths and unsubstantiated legends supposed to come from the bible? Should Aesop’s Fables, Bullfinch’s Mythology, Homer’s Odyssey and Iliad, fairy tales from Asia and Africa, sagas and myths from Scandinavia be banned? Isn’t it humiliating enough that this country which is supposed to be the most universally educated and scientifically advanced is still arguing in court if the first chapter of the bible should to be taught alongside the science of evolution -- in state funded schools?

I refuse to turn back the clock to the 13th Century in which Torquemada burned women at the stake for practicing herbal medicine, where Jews and Moslems were banished from Christian countries and their thriving business taken over the uneducated lackeys of the church, where all people were forbidden from asking questions that only science, free spirit and imagination could answer.

I refuse to allow religious censors to dictate what is taught in schools and seen in films and heard in music and played in video games and painted and written and spoken. All of us, especially Christians, must put a stop to this fanatical wave, this very small minority who would do to the United States what the Taliban and Al Quida has done to the Near and Middle East. Don’t let them take away our freedom of thought, our imagination our choices.

Actually, they sound very much like the villains in “The Golden Compass.” Young Lara (played by Dakota Blue Richards) is a rather unruly girl in private school. Her uncle, Lord Asriel (Dennis Craig) (does the name sound uncomfortably too much like Israel for the right wing faction?) is a scientist who explores the far north to find a why to communicate with life on other planets. I think. I have to admit, there’s a whole lot in this story I don’t understand, like the significance of the “dust” or how the golden compass in the hands of the one who has been foretold (does the right wing rankle at it being a girl) can save the universe. Seems we have to wait for the sequel to get a real payoff. Okay, I’ll go see the sequel because the movie is very beautiful, the child, though fiercely independent, is very endearing. I have found that historically boys in fairy tales are kind, moral, brave and resourceful, like Harry Potter. The girls tend to be very annoying, like Sally Salt in Terry Gilliam’s “The Adventures of Baron Munchausen” (1988). To continue with the story -- the administrators of this planet want to scientifically remove the soul from all the children so they will be unthinking and obedient. (Now, does this hit too close to home for the squawking right wing who doesn’t want you to see this film?)

Lara is taken from the school by Mrs. Coulter (Nicole Kidman) for her own nefarious purpose. Lara escapes and goes on a perilous journey to save her uncle from an impending assassination, her friends from loosing their souls, and the whole universe from mind control. She finds friends and supporters along the way, a giant polar bear, cowboy-aeronaut Sam Elliot, and a flock of witches. Is she successful, does freedom of mind vanquish those who wish to control us, I mean them? See the film, if only to squash those who wouldn’t let you if they could.

The Kite Runner (2007)
Director: Marc Foster
Screenplay: David Benioff
Novel: Khaled Hosseini
Cast: Zekeria Ebrahimi, Amah Khan Mahmidzada, Khalid Abdallah, Homayan Ershadi, Shaun Taub, Nabi Tanha, Ali Dinesh, Said, Taghmaoui, Atossa Leoni
PG 13
128 min.

I feel like I've seen three movies in one sitting, each taking its time to tell a multi-layered, realistic story.
First, the childhood friends Amir (Zekeria Ebrahimi), a wealthy businessman's son (Amah Khan Mahmidzada), and Hassan, the businessman's servant's son. I get a good feel for life in Kabul, Afghanistan, in the 1970's, neither communistic, with free trade and a static class structure, nor fundamentalist Muslim, with the odd drink and cigar enjoyed after dinner or at parties (which include women in Western attire dancing with guys who may not even be their husbands). I am more than a little irked that Amir reads stories to Hassan who is illiterate. No universal education and it seems friends don't share the secrets of the written word with the less fortunate servant class. Very telling. Actually the story is about the difference, not so much in economic and social class, as in moral structure. Hassan stands up for himself, his friend, and what is right. Amir not only runs from confrontation, but becomes devious to hide this shameful fact.

Still, I am dazzled by the biggest event in the village, the annual kite contest in which kite strings are somehow treated to be able to cut the strings of neighboring kites. Either the last kite flying or the one with the most cuttings is the winner. The kite runner goes after the cut kites and keeps them as spoils of war. This is the most obvious section of the film that showed Dreamworks' funding. It is not a western film by any means, though much of it is in English for a wider audience, but with lots of American money behind it, the kites fly high and widely and we get bird's eye tracking views of the action. The kite competition may be the least realistic part of the film -- slight nudges of the wrist get the kites attacking, circling and liberating opposing kites in an intricate and unfathomable dance.

The second section of this film concerns the escape by Amir and his father from Kabul to America due to the start of the Russian invasion. Being a very successful capitalist and outspoken opponent of Communism, Amir's father has become an enemy of the state. Crossing the dangerous border between Afghanistan and Pakistan is perilous enough, but Amir's father standing up to a Russian soldier at gunpoint whose requested payment for allowing a truck full of immigrants to pass is the rape of a woman, is another example of courage lacking in his son. Penniless, the two start a new life in the Bay Area. The price for freedom (and life) is all the worldly accouterments that success had once bestowed on this pair. Dad now works in a gas station, Amir (as an adult - Khalid Abdallah) is a struggling student aspiring to become a novelist. He falls in love, marries, becomes a successful writer. Life is good as is a view of San Francisco in the background.

Here we learn of the struggles faced by immigrant populations -- regaining economic equilibrium is left to the next generation, maintaining one's culture far from home is an upward battle, adapting to a new culture is difficult and humiliating, especially in one's own home. Note: always take a bit of soil with you when you leave your homeland -- not to remember, but to literally feel your roots in your hands.

Time has passed; Amir and his wife are celebrating the publication of his book. His spacious apartment has a panoramic view, probably from twin peaks south to the bay and Bayshore. Not my favorite, but better than what's out my window. Then comes the phone call from Hassan's father. Amir, still privileged and protected, must go to one of the most dangerous places on Earth. He takes on the task, showing courage for the first time in his life, to find, rescue and return to America with Hassan's son.

Where was this shot? Who played the Taliban soldiers who use people who look at them directly for target practice, who stone women to death at half time of a soccer match, who have turned their country into a cold, sterile desert? It is hard to believe that people want so much control and power that they will leave nothing in their paths.

As an aside, I also never understood the villains in the James Bond movies who want to destroy the world. What's left to have power over? Who pays you tribute if you destroy everyone and everything? Ultimately, what do they get out of it? The Taliban, at least in this movie, are no less extreme and confounding.

This film is based on a novel by a Muslim, Khaled Hosseini, which brings veracity to the work. It is interpreted by David Benioff in his adaptation for the screen, interpreted again by director Marc Foster, and backed by lots of American money. Yet, I believe it. I believe the life I see in 1970's and 2000 Kabul. It may be for others with more knowledge and experience of the times and place to judge its authenticity, But it is ultimately a story of a boy finally taking responsibility and finding the moral fiber to do so. And that is universal, a facet of the human condition, and a piece of great storytelling.

Man in The Chair (2007)
Director: Michael Schroeder
Cast: Christopher Plummer, Michael Angarano, M. Emmet Walsh, Robert Wagner, Tracey Walter, Joshua Boyd
Rated: PG-13 for language and thematic elements (does that mean children should not be exposed to the problems of the elderly?)

There is one segment of the population that is marginalized even further off the page than women and people of color. This segment is forgotten, deprived, sent to institutions where they are abused, maltreated, and left to die, abandoned even by their own children and certainly by society. They are the aged. Even in the best of circumstances, they may have their senior communities and full medical coverage, but they have no place in society and their vast experience and wisdom is wasted. Unused, it atrophies, which is a tragedy for all of us. In "Man in The Chair," a young boy, as troubled and unhappy as he is, cannot ignore this silenced population once he is made aware of it, and is moved to action.

Cameron Kincaid (played by Michael Angarano) , who regularly skips school and is out on parole from joy riding a stolen car among other assorted infringements of the law, can't help but notice an old man, Flash (played by Christopher Plummer), in movie theater. Flash shouts at the screen, making his vast, insider knowledge of films known through his angry rantings. Cameron, coincidentally, not only loves films, but wants to make a film as a school project which may lead to a full scholarship to college. He dreams of someday being the man in the director's chair. So, Kincaid follows Flash out of the theater, stalks him, and finally approaches him, asking for his help in making the film. Curmudgeon Flash finally agrees under relentless pressure and payoffs of cigars and Wild Turkey. Flash introduces Cameron to his neighbors in the Motion Picture Rretirement Home. An assortment of talent and Academy award winners who quietly pass their days in front of the TV are roused from their dormancy and excitedly prepare for the project. Cameron's subject matter quickly changes from skateboards and motorcycles to an exposé on conditions in the vast majority of senior institutions.

Plummer is, as always, a joy to watch, through his angry, drunken, insults and frustration at being jettisoned by society as dead weight only because he's old in a youth worshiping society which is only magnified by Hollywood standards. Ironically, Plummer himself is flourishing in his maturity in his profession and family life. It's good to be successful. But for each Plummer, there are hundreds of other actors who languish in dark shadows, as most senior citizens do.

Would all youth be as aware of this situation, compassionate, and honoring of the elder as Michael Angarano's Cameron. Cameron is our eyes and ears as we become aware that the family problems we face may only be in part the fault of others, but more importantly, the situations of, in this case, the elderly are far worse and hopeless. This message seemed to me to be made far too blatant, preachy and even pedantic. I forgive director Schroeder for this lack of subtlety -- perhaps a digression into the documentary realm which mirrors Cameron's filmmaking journey. Cameron even brings the message home in promising his mother he will always take care of her -- perhaps the most important message in the film. We do not lapse into dispair because of the fine acting by Plummer, Angarano, E. Emmet Walsh (as Academy Award winning playwrite alone and numbed by his destitution) and the others in this first rate cast, the integrity of the characters they play, and hope given by the youthful protagonist.

In "Man in This Chair," we all face our futures -- abandonment by family, institutionalization, squalor, and defeat. Baby boomers, beware and plan ahead! From our parents' disposal to our own is only a few brief years. Perhaps the credo of Medium Rare may in future be amanded to state: for women, people of color and seniors in the entertainment industry.

I’m Not There (2007)
Director: Todd Haynes
Screenwriter: Todd Haynes and Oren Overman
Cast: Cate Blanchett, Ben Whishaw, Christian Bale, Richard Gere, Marcus Carl Franklin, Heath Ledger - all as Bob Dylan; Kris Kristofferson, Julianne Moore, Charlotte Gainsbourg, Michelle Williams, David Cross, Bruce Greenwood and many more
Rated R

“I’m Not There” is a pastiche of Todd Haynes and co-writer Oren Moverman’s selected highlights of Bob Dylan’s life. They are ramblings and artistic interpretations of his life from his early years to the 1970's.. Though Dylan was never a black boy (Marcus Carl Franklin) of 11 riding the train cars and singing about the Great Depression to the hobos he met, Haynes gives him this persona. The child is devoted to Woody Guthrie and sits by his bedside in the hospital as he lays dying. This is a reference to Dylan’s mentorship by Woody which led to his folk sound. I suppose Haynes sees the youth’s inner soul as this black child. Interesting and daring.

Then Dylan develops into an intense and committed folk singer (Christian Bale) named Jack. This may be a reference to Rambling Jack Elliot who was Guthrie’s actual protégé and whose career was eclipsed by Dylan’s more successful run for fame. In this film the Jack character, after an existential breakdown, becomes a minister. I could watch and listen to Bale interpret Dylan till the sun goes down. But no mention of the controversy around Dylan’s donation of several million dollars to Israel.

When Dylan later goes electric, Haynes emphasizes the controversy that ensues: has Dylan betrayed his folk/protesting following? I don’t remember that issue. “I Ain’t Gonna Work on Maggie’s Farm No More” was as protesty as “The Times They Are a Changing.” The new sound sold more than he old one, so, obviously, more people liked it than didn’t. We are taken through his nihilistic period, has movie star period (?), his old man in the mountains with his dog and horse period (I suppose yet to come).

I should say no more about the many short stories that are “I’m Not There.” Obviously, Haynes took great care and imaginative pleasure in using Dylan as the skeleton which he dressed in many fine coats. He may be missing his pants, meaning the story is aggrandizing, incomplete and to my recollection inaccurate. Trying to make all the characters fit into one actual person is not the aim of this film and would only lead to frustration on the part of the audience. Just relax and enjoy the music, the wonderful performances, and Heath Ledger in a towel. If you’re trying to see his penis, you’ll have to wait for the DVD to put it on freeze frame.

Love in the Time of Cholera (2007)
Di rector: Mike Newell
Cast: Javier Bardem, Giovanna Mezzogiorno, Benjamin Bratt, Catalina Sandino Moreno, Hector Elizondo, Liev Schreiber
Screenwriter: Ron Harwood from the novel by Gabriel Garcia Marquez
Rated R for lots of breasts

“Love in the Time of Cholera” takes great care to look and feel like the novel by Marquez, and I greatly appreciate that because I love the book. It is tropical, densely foliated, hot, and misty. The mountains are dangerous precipices, the rivers white and unpredictable. Yet civilization near the end of the 19th Century is valiantly trying to tame this rugged and inhospitable place. For modern society to make its mark, the most formal of etiquette must be followed. Victoria rules Britannia and the standards of civilization in Colombia, South America, on the edge of the jungle, should be no less stringent than those in London or Madrid. Men wear white, three-piece suits, ladies are covered in lace from chin to ankle and strict rules of courtship must be followed. Cholera seems to be the only natural occurrence that truly effects this population of transplanted Spaniards, and reminds the populace that it is truly far from home.

In this setting, Florentino Ariza (Javier Bardem) courts Fermina Daza (Giovanna Mezzogiorno) with a series of love letters. She responds and avers her love for him as well. Her dad (John Leguizamo) is adamant that she marry better than a mere telegraph clerk and takes her to her cousin deep in the jungle for a year. Florentino is more than heartbroken; he is devastated, inconsolable, crushed. Though he vows fidelity to his beloved Fermina,

he finds that sex with other willing partners, lessens the pain, if not the ardor he feels for her. And he is in a lot of pain. Upon her return, she runs into him in the marketplace and realizes, quite suddenly and irrevocable, that her love for him was a mistake and he is nothing more than a shadow. Off she goes to live her life without him and with barely a memory of him. She marries, very well, in fact, to Dr. Juvinal Urbino (Benjamin Bratt), has a child, and lives out her life as any married woman of high social standing would. Florentino waits. He will increase his stature in society so he can be a good match for Fermina when the time finally comes that they can be together again -- when her husband dies. And he waits. And he waits.

At first, upon reading the book and again upon seeing the film, I wondered what changed Fermina’s mind about Florentino. I have since figured it out. The guy is creepy. As I have done many times before, I have selected the guy we’re not supposed to be rooting for. While others may be emotionally supporting Florentino because his love is so pure and he is a good man, and because he gets most of the screen time, I am glad she marries Dr. Urbino. Sure, he’s not perfect, but he’s not creepy, and he does really love her and he does provide very well for her. I’m always finding the guy we supposedly don’t want the female lead to marry the guy I would choose.

This film (as the book) is elevated above mere melodrama because of the parallels between society and nature, the conflicts between love and culture, the tenacity of the heart. The language is also beautiful, and the backdrop provocative and wild. I am able to visit the land of “Fitzcarraldo” (1982) again, but in more amicable company. As for the concept of lifelong love overcoming obstacles of family and time, we can also visit or revisit “Like Water for Chocolate” (1992), a novel (with recipes) and film, which takes place in the rough and revolutionary Mexico. There are several parallels between “Chocolate” and “Cholera”, including a similar ending in the novels, though the film version of “Cholera” has taken a different road. Perhaps there is an iconic myth about this particular situation in Latin culture. I am happy to take this foray into this romantic idea of unrequited, eternal love in the tropical wilds of a yet untamed country.

On the one hand, Mr. Magorium's just fun. I'm a kid again in a toy store, and the toys play back!. Plot is intentionally thin: Mr. Magorium (Dustin Hoffman), magical magistrate of his self-named toy store, feels it's time to move on. So, he hires an accountant (Jason Bateman) to clean up his paperwork thus making transition of the business to his store manager (Natalie Portman) easier. A 9 year old boy (Zach Mills), who has socialization problems, also works at the store. I ponder child labor laws. But lest we forget, children also take over the running of businesses (or the same business) in both "Willie Wonka & the Chocolate Factory" (1971) and "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory" (2005). This is obviously some wish fulfillment on the part of children everywhere and completely acceptable in G rated films.
On the other hand, all the characters seemed distant. Mr. Magorium never really exposes his mystery (perhaps as he shouldn't), but I would have enjoyed the tales he could have told rather than watching slinkies, paper airplanes and bouncy balls as much as I did. And there didn't seem much of a payoff regarding Portman's classical music composing aspirations and Mills' inability to make friends. Bateman did loosen up from accountant (mutant) to human.

The store, large as it is for a real boutique toy store (though not as spacious as FAO Schwartz or Toys ‘R Us), seemed claustrophobic as a movie set. Remember Robin Williams' factory in "Toys" (1992) Now, there was a place a kid could play. True, it wasn't a store, but magic could have made Magorium's store bigger than it was and I could have felt more comfortable in the surroundings.

As for moral of the story, I was hoping it could be skipped in just this one film. It really wasn't necessary, and it really didn't make much sense. I can't get into it or I'd ruin the film for all you fun loving potential viewers. I felt it was tacked on as a requirement of all children's movies. But dare I say what I wanted? I wanted a grand piano rolled into the Emporium and original music filling every nook and cranny. Don't expect it. That's only what I wanted.

Mr. Magorium's Wonder Emporium does make me wax nostalgic, though, for the times when toys were not outsourced to China where life is obviously cheap and lead paint, date rape drugs coating beads, and little accessory pieces that clog the throat are a part of the manufacturing process.

Lions for Lambs (2007)
Director: Robert Redford
Cast: Tom Cruise, Meryl Streep, Robert Redford, Michael Pena, Andrew Garfield, Derek Luke
Writer: Matthew Michael Carnahan
Rated R
88 minutes

This is a very glossy, huge budgeted, Liberal Democratic, blatant, propaganda film. That’s all right with me; I’m a liberal Democrat and the more in our party the better. I feel it is absolutely correct and only call it propaganda because it’s intention is to sway public opinion, in this case, against Republicans and the war (in Iraq, Afghanistan, soon Iraq, and any place else the right wing can make a profit).

The film is split into three segments. First there’s the reporter (Meryl Streep) invited to have a private, one-hour interview with the Congressman (Tom Cruise) who is the shining new hope of the Republican Party . He wants her to know, and to tell the public, that a new strategy for the war in Afghanistan has been put into action, a strategy for finally winning. “We will do what it takes.” This sends a chill down the reporter’s back. They parley and toss ideas back and forth for a third of the film, segmented and interspersed with the other two episodes which are taking place in the same time frame. “What about diplom...?” He never lets her finish a sentence, jumping in with aggressive lines such as, “Diplomacy doesn’t stop terrorists. Do you want to stop terrorists? This is a yes or no answer.” Well, you know, the same fear rhetoric we’ve been hearing since we were told Iraq had weapons of mass destruction. Meryl even quotes the Who’s, “We won’t be fooled again” (“Here comes the new boss, same as the old boss”) in response to Cruise’s stance on the war.

\The next part of the film takes place in a California college. Robert Redford, as the professor, has a meeting with a student (played by Andrew Garfield) who has lost interest in his political science class. This is the most simplistic and obvious of the three stories. The student doesn’t believe he can make a difference, so he’s just going to enjoy the good life his parents have been able to provide for him in this free democratic society even though they resent that he’s having such a good time. Redford wants him to take action, make a difference, lick envelopes, attend a march, even if it doesn’t make a difference. Listening to this, I’m flashing back to the 60's, and I do mean flashing back. This line of thinking has been crammed down students’ throats for the past 45 years, uninterrupted. Maybe the younger members of the theater audience haven’t heard it yet. Okay, if one person is changed by a film, it’s worth it, but it’s no picnic for me to have to listen to it again even if I agree, and I do. No artful new perspectives, no brilliant dialogue, even though it’s obvious that the actors both think it is.

The last part is the action. Two soldiers (both men of color – Derek Luke, Michael Pena) in Afghanistan are followed from the meeting with the officers in the big tent where they learn of their next assignment (please excuse my lack of military jargon), their flight in the helicopter to the snow capped mountains and their subsequent actions. This brings into sharp relief what the others in the film are talking about, what’s at stake, what happens to our boys (no female soldiers in this film). The distance between Afghanistan and Washington/California, the cold, terrifying, embattled isolation of those mountains, compared to the offices, both grand and cramped, both including hot coffee, brings harsh reality to what decision makers actually do to our boys in the name of freedom.

“Lions to Lambs” is a forthright study from many perspectives of the war in the Middle East: the Republican Senator (obviously the bad guy), the reporter (trying to balance her ethics with her job), the professor (effete but hopeful the next generation will stop the madness), the student (waffling between comfort and commitment), the soldiers (the very foundation of American democracy and the fodder of war).

The question is -- can we get Republicans into the theater to get the message? And a further, more important question -- will they be effected by what they see? I haven’t seen it happen yet -- policy change because of a movie. Well, maybe Gore did have some effect. But still, no electric cars on the road, Bush and Chaney still in office, war still going on in Iraq, Afghanistan and, without doubt, soon in Iran. Please, prove me wrong.

Bee Movie (2007)
Dir: Steve Hickner & Simon J. Smith
Cast: Jerry Seinfeld, Renee Zellweger, Matthew Broderick, Patrick Warbuton, John Goodman, Barry Levinson, Oprah Winfrey, Chris Rock, Kathy Bates, Alan Arkin, Larry King, Sting, Ray Liotta, Megan Mullally, Rip Torn
Writers: Jerry Seinfeld, Spike Feresten, Barry Marder, Andy Robin
Rated: PG

I keep forgetting when I go see animation targeted for children that the intended audience hasn't see all the movies I have. It's the first time for them -- seeing an insect who doesn't fit in, who wants to adventure and explore the world outside its home. They haven't seen "Antz," in which Z, Woody Allen's character, a little ant who wants out of the daily rut of the hill goes into the world at large. And let's not forget Little Nemo who was tempted to go beyond the limits of the seaweed patch set by his dad. There are others from which Bee Movie gets at least some inspiration, but it's a new combination of characters and plot lines that will seem fresh and fun to its young audience.

Seinfeld's bee, Barry B. Benson, has just graduated from bee college. He and his friend, Adam Flayman (Matthew Broderick), are about to choose their lifelong careers. LIFELONG! He had no idea that he would be stuck in the same job "till he dies" (which seems a lot worse than "for the rest of his life"). So, out he goes with the dashing pollen collectors to interact with the world outside the hive. In the course of his extra-hival exploration, he makes friends with a florist (Rene Zellweger), uncovers bee injustice and fights it. If there is a moral to this story, it's not so much follow your urge to explore and expand your horizons as it is don't mess with the natural order! I was a bit taken aback by this revelation. Maybe if the kids take it to heart, they won't be so difficult to control. Hmmmm.

I found the visuals interesting and beautiful. The humor is really for children with only a couple of jokes that adults would appreciate. Those jokes and the suggestion of smoking in one scene got the film a PG rating. Watch out, kids! This film may be dangerous to your moral fiber!

I suppose since it takes so long to produce an animated feature, the real world bee problem hadn't happened yet. A point of the film -- bees are vital to life on earth -- is now reflected in our agricultural crisis. The bees are gone. They're not dead; just gone. No piles of bee carcases have been found, but the hives all over the U.S. are just about empty. Nobody knows why. I can't help but be reminded of Douglas Adams' fourth book in the Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy trilogy, "So Long, and Thanks for All the Fish." In this book, all the dolphins have disappeared from the planet because they know that the Earth will soon be destroyed. They had tried to relay the message to humans by a complicated trick involving jumping out of the water, going through a fire lighted hoop, making three somersaults on the way back to the water while squeaking wildly. People didn't understand the meaning of this dance; the dolphins gave up and left before it was too late. Will there be time to make a film about what the bees are actually doing?

Gone Baby Gone (2007)
Director: Ben Affleck
Cast: Casey Affleck, Michelle Monaghan, Morgan Freeman, Ed Harris, John Ashton, Amy Ryan, Amy Madigan
Writers: Ben Affleck, Aaron Stockard

Taut, tense, rapid fire action describes this thriller about a missing 4 year old girl from the blue collar, Dorchester area of Boston. The Afflecks are on their home turf and probably know all the extras personally, maybe even went to school with them. There is an authenticity about the setting, a familiarity that makes this neighborhood more than a backdrop. It's a motivation, a cause.

Unfortunately, usually when a child is kidnaped, a pedophile is responsible, the child is never returned, and the best that can be hoped for is eventually finding the body and the family having some closure. Not so simple and direct in this case. In "Gone, Baby, Gone," the focus of the investigation, first by the police (represented by Morgan Freeman and Ed Harris) and then a private investigator (Casey Affleck), takes many twists and turns. Of course, the mother is the first suspect. Then, does she have a boyfriend? Does anyone want to hurt the mother through the abduction of the child? And the list of suspects grows. The very underbelly of the city is exposed in the deepening search for the child. I will say no more about the plot. It's a powerful story that sadly too many people have had first hand knowledge of.

Casey Affleck plays the subdued, yet unstoppable PI. He walks quietly and carries a little gun, and when situations become unbearably frightening (at least to me), he either stands his ground or runs into the fray instead of running away. Ed Harris, as the tough, veteran cop, inspires respect and doubt at the same time. And Morgan Freeman is the same dependable Morgan Freeman we have grown to depend on. Even though the unevenly distributed, mumbled Boston accent caused a few problems, I was able to catch up on the story without too many problems.

I have to admit, I don’t see directing when I watch a film. Directing is constantly making choices on how each word is delivered, what angle the shot should be , and a million other details in the architecture of the whole film. If all the pieces don’t fit together, the building will fall. I say this building stands strong and all the plumbing works. Well, there may be a crack in the foundation. I can imagine a group of people who have just left the theater after seeing “Gone Baby Gone” going to a café to discuss it and at least some of them will be very angry or disappointed with the error. Ben Affleck as director and co-writer must have caught the booboo, but chose not to amend it or couldn’t see a way around it. Otherwise, he certainly kept the audience on the edge for the whole film – and that’s why we go to the theater. Well, one of the reasons.

Lars and the Real Girl (2007)
Director: Craig Gillespie
Cast: Ryan Gosling, Patricia Clarkson, Emily Mortimer, Paul Schneider, Kelli Garner
Writer: Nancy Oliver

It ain't never going to happen -- a guy introduces his plastic, inflatable girlfriend to his brother and sister-in-law, to the community, to the pastor, and they all accept her, even warmly integrate her into their little society. No one makes a tasteless remark, no one says "get that sex toy outta here!" There are no thoughtless characters, no bad guys. As I say, ain't gonna happen.

Well, let's just accept that it does in the little Minnesota town. Lars is much like his environment: isolated, cold, lonely. He goes from his office job to his finished garage room and sits in the dark, with as little contact as possible with anyone else. His sister-in-law keeps inviting him over to the main house for dinner, breakfast, move in, just don't be alone in that garage room. He's not budging. But one day he buys a sex doll, only it's not for sex. She is his companion, his girlfriend, and he be lieves she's a real, live girl.

His family and the whole town accept his delusion and play along -- because they're good Nordic stock, it's winter, he's a member of the community, and therefore, they support him. That alone is enough of a message for a film. The town M.D. (Patricia Clarkson) also has a degree in psychology and while she gives Bianca treatments for low blood pressure, she listens and talks with Lars. We slowly understand why Bianca is just the right emotional speed for Lars. And we watch him develop because of his loving relationship with her.

This is a very intriguing film -- psychologically and emotionally. Kudos to Ryan Gosling for yet another riveting performance. I completely accept this man's sense of fulfillment and joy at having finally hooked up with someone he can share his childhood memories with, sing to, introduce to the neighbors and fellow workers. His very relationship with Bianca gives him the confidence to go to a party, bowl with co-workers, hang out with a new friend, do all the things he didn't even know he was missing in his life prior to Bianca. She was the crutch to give him the practice tools to enter society, to rise above his bereft past, to start living.

I found it fascinating that this film was written by a woman, Nancy Oliver. But it makes sense: a woman could see the other values of purchasing a friend to stave off the dismal loneliness of a north country winter, or to fall pray to a fetish, like a collection of action figures, a teddy bear, any number of things that our society will accept and compare it to an adult plastic/imaginary friend. Whereas, most guys can only see an inflatable doll as a sex partner who never talks back. Oliver even makes Bianca talk back to Lars. I can certainly see how this play write and TV writer whose recent credits include co-producer, story editor, and writer for HBO's "Six Feet Under," could conceive of such a subtle and complex relationship.

I rate this film P for Poignant. While you watch, try to control your nervous twitters. You may not be able to forget that Bianca's a sex doll, but Lars doesn't think of her that way, and if you keep laughing, you'll miss the important stuff.

Weirdsville (2007)
Director: Allan Moyle
Cast Scott Speedman, Wes Bentley, Taryn Manning, Greg Bryk, Matt Frewer, Dax Ravina
Writer: William Wennekers
90 minutes
Rated: R

This is a rollicking caper/druggie flick that made me laugh out loud on several occasions. The two protagonists are stoners in the suburbs of a wintry Canadian city called Weedsville. They get in trouble, they try to get out of it, everything they do is stupid -- to be expected -- they're stoned. For example, the movie starts out with the two leads Royce (Wes Bentley) and Dexter (Scott Speedman) freaking out because Royce's girlfriend, played by Taryn Manning, overdoses and is dead. They can't call the police or bring her to the hospital because questions would arise -- like where did she get the drugs. Here's where she got the drugs: Royce owes his dealer a lot of money and he can't pay it back. Either he takes more of the dealer's drugs and sells it for him or both his legs will be broken. And that's where she got the drugs. That's one stupid dealer. A short drive outside of town and they're in the wilds of Canada, Canada as far as the eye can see, Canada forever. But instead of burying her anywhere out there, they decide to bury here in the basement of the drive-in movie concession/office building where Royce once had a job. Not smart. As they're digging a hole in the basement, a bunch of Satanic cultists enter, headed by the manager of the drive-in to perform some rituals. Thus the chase begins: the Satanists must catch the guys before they expose them, the guys must run from both the Satanists and the drug dealer. And it gets more complicated. But I leave that for you to unravel.

This film is lightening fast and makes sense if you get into that dysfunctional, drugged groove. Matt Frewer (Max Headroom -- do you remember?) has a small part, and I always treasure the moments I find him, like in the TV show, "Eureka."

I did find a small part of my brain chanting throughout the film, "Get off drugs. Just say no." And perhaps that's not in the spirit of the film, but that's how I root for these likeable, good hearted, misguided dudes. I'm sure a large segment of the audience will just be rooting for them.

Sleuth (2007)
Directed by Kenneth Branagh
Cast: Michael Caine, Jude Law
Screenplay: Harold Pinter
Produced by Jude Law, Kenneth Branagh, etc.
86 minutes
Rated: R

Okay, picture this: I offer you this deal. You steal a million dollars' worth of my family jewels. I get the insurance money and I know a fence who will give you $800,000 for the jewels because you will also steal the papers of authenticity and he can sell it at full price for a profit. Would you do it? If you did, you'd be an idiot. Those papers only confirm the identity of stolen jewels! And that's one of the first premises of "Sleuth", as proposal by Michael Caine, the cuckolded husband, to wife's new lover, played by Jude Law. This is a psychological game rewritten from Anthony Shaffer's original Broadway play by Pulitzer prize winner Harold Pinter. I have to admit, this incredibly weak plot point means a lot to me. I go to a potboiler to be boiled and this script barely sizzles. Sure, it's witty, face paced, tricky, but it doesn't hold up for me.

Caine's Andrew Wyke is a successful mystery writer who confronts Law's Milo Tindle, a struggling actor or hairdresser or part time driver (one of several salutes to "Alfie" whom both Caine and Law played at their appropriate ages). Instead of expressing his rage or just taking out a gun and shooting Milo, Andrew engages him in dangerous mind games. Milo can give as well as be can take, and thus we see the interplay in wit, daring and heightening levels testosterone.

And yet, because the brilliant dialogue is an acting exercise for the characters (if not the actors), it looses intrinsic importance. What they say really doesn't matter sincewe quickly catch on that they're lying, and both seem to be extremely gullible.

The set is a 17th Century mansion in the English countryside, gutted and turned into a sterile, gray, electronically controlled museum. Walls slide open with the press of a tiny remote control, lights turn from disco ball gyrations to browbeating interrogation bulbs, colors subtly change, moods are easily altered. Modern sculptures resemble mechanisms of torture. Everything is uncomfortable, uninviting.

This film is based on a stage play which often leads to claustrophobia among viewers. The two actors walk from room to room often for no apparent reason other to keep the audience from crawling the metaphoric walls. We breathe deeply when we take a little excursion outside the house to say hello at the door or move a ladder. Then back inside to see which man wins the pissing contest: the experienced crime writer on his home turf or the young, handsome, underrated dark horse. These guys are put through they're paces and we are often surprised. The 1972 version of "Sleuth," starring Laurence Olivier as the husband and Michael Caine as the young lover was on TV a few days ago. But all the press info on the new film said the scripts are so different, the 2007 version is really a new film. We'll I recognized it. There were differences, but it is the same film. The '72 house is full of antique mechanical toys, the '07 house has toys of an electronic nature which controls surveillance and lighting. The third act has a different bent on the deep-seated fears of the characters. I preferred the ending of the '72 version. It closes the circle nicely. I think it's only fair when one watches the remake, to pay homage to the original by renting and viewing. After all, it was good enough to make again.

Elizabeth: The Golden Age (2007)
Director: Shekhar Kapur
Cast Cate Blanchett, Geoffrey Rush, Clive Owen, Rhys Ifans, Samantha Morton, Abbie Cornish
Writers: William Nicholson, Michael Hirst

What a wonderful film to watch. As much as "Sleuth" mesmerizes its audience with set design, "Elizabeth" dazzles the audience with costume - one gorgeous gown after another, resplendent with wigs, jewelry and almost Kabuki makeup. And oh my, I will never forget her most royally sexy suit of armor. I'm sure that would get any soldier's blood boiling. We are even allowed to enter ER's closet, an endless room in which gown after gown on headless forms and covered with gossamer stand at attention, awaiting the Queen's bidding. The fashion show was worth the price of admission.

Needless to say, Blanchett is magnificent as Elizabeth. The supporting cast of Geoffrey Rush, Clive Owen seem to be unchallenged. The cinematography and direction of this second historical drama starring Blanchett and directed by Kapur is so stylized -- with bird's eye views of the royal court so high as to diminish the people below to rats in a maze, intentional out-of-focus shots, strange inserts of 360 x 4 tracking shots of mannequin-like Elizabeth, obviously unrealistic shots of the Spanish Armada engaging the paltry British Navy in a pool churned and fanned to approximate the stormy English Channel -- that it eroded my ability to suspend my disbelief. I'm not sure what the intention was for these artistic techniques, but I felt it diminished and diverted the retelling of Elizabeth's finest moment and Cate's powerful performance. This is a rare look at a woman leading one of the most powerful countries in the Western world (not to be repeated till Margaret Thatcher -- yes, there were other queens, such as Victoria, but that pesky Parliament took away most of her power), challenged strangely enough by any Queen, Mary of Scotland, for her throne, staving off the Catholic nation of Spain which considered her godless since she was Protestant, and dealing with her one large population of Catholics.

There is a church in San Francisco that has developed its own new pantheon of saints. The first among of them in Elizabeth the First because she refused to persecute the Catholics in her nation and even declared that religion in England was a personal choice and would not be interfered with by government. This was a unique perspective, especially in the times of the Inquisition.

In "Elizabeth: The Golden Era," we get a glimpse into the woman who would lead her nation to greatness, devote her life to her nation at the expense of personal love, family, even an heir to the throne. It would be interesting if Blanchett would continue in her role as Elizabeth to foster British Imperialism through continued expeditions by Raleigh and Drake, whom we only catch a quick glimpse of in this film, encourage the arts (support of Shakespeare), and battle the French and Spanish to keep England free. Rumor is that director Kapur wants to do it. These three films alone would be an honorable lifetime's work for Cate.

Rails & Ties (2007)
Director: Allison Eastwood
Cast: Marcia Gay Harden, Kevin Bacon, Miles Heizer
Screenplay: Mickey Levy
PG 13

This film made it abundantly clear to me that a husband and wife do not a family make. Take Tom and Magen Stark. Megan (played by Marcia Gay Harden) has lost her fight against cancer; she wants to go to San Francisco before she dies. Yes, I can understand that. Her husband Tom (played by Kevin Bacon), like many men confronted by a wife's illness and impending death, withdraws emotional and literally. He continues to work as an engineer on a passenger train. This takes him away for days at a time, precious days away from his wife. As fate would have it, a suicidal woman parks her car on the tracks, her son Davey (played by Miles Heizer) barely escaping her fate as Tom runs the car down. As Tom is forced to take leave while awaiting a hearing reviewing his actions, Davey finds his way to Tom's house to confront his mother's killer. And thus a family is created!

The pieces seem to fit together: a couple strained to breaking point by a woman's impending death and a husband's emotional inability to cope with it; a child finally finding a stable, sane, loving environment. The changes among all three are instantaneous. Perhaps too facile, but I accept it because there just isn't time to take slow, progressive steps toward "family." One moment Magen is in remission; the next she's metasticized. One moment Tom is happily leading his Coastal Starlight from SoCal to Seattle, the next, a dead woman lies on the tracks and his career makes an unexpected stop. One moment a boy is trying desperately to take care of his "sick" mom, the next she tries to get him to take two pills that will make him happy and takes him to see the train go by.

And I realized the difference between drama and melodrama -- I cry when confronted with the human condition; I watch stoically when it's unconvincing, over the top, unrealistic, melo. I truly felt for Megan's impending death and for the pain it will cause the two men in her life. I was even hoping for a miraculous recovery -- go, white blood cells, go.

Of course, credit must be given first to Mickey Levy. This first time produced screenwriter was inspired while riding a train to do a story about people who run trains. This led her to extensive research which made her criss-cross the country. The resulting information was as much about the heart of the engineer as technical facts. Kudos also to first time director Alison Eastwood, daughter of Clint. One could say she had the advantages of living in a filmmaking world -- her father's business, and having an in when she started her career as an actress -- but she also used good judgment in making choices that would shape this first project: go wide screen to capture the impact of the train, though its time on screen was short. It was vital as the instrument which propelled the plot and as a symbol of awe-inspiring adoration among train enthusiasts, riders and watchers. (Also check out The Station Agent for more love of trains.) She chooses to rehearse very little because of her desire to keep the performances spontaneous. She selected first time film actor Miles Heizer for this very demanding part because she felt he was someone she wanted to spend the next 6 to 8 weeks with. One more Eastwood advantage was having her father's associates jump on board to work with her on this film. Still quality will out, and I feel the quality is here. And of course, compliments to the people we see on screen: Marcia Gay Harden looking at her mastectomy scar and breaking down alone in the bathroom-- I'm emotionally there with her (as areall women who empathize with the 1 out of 9 women she represents); Kevin Bacon finding refuge in the garage alone with his model train set, quietly trying to hold himself together; Miles Heizer, with the confidence of an old pro, going from obedient son to troubled foster kid to angry and outraged boy looking for answers, to panic stricken, god fearing child who feels responsible for the deaths of everyone he loves. Not bad for the first time or any time.

I recently reviewed "Things We Lost in the Fire" (below), about the death of a parent/spouse which had all the right elements and then some, but it left me cold. "Rails & Ties," a much smaller, more modest film, keeps me feeling and thinking long after the theater lights have gone on. The delicate combination of factors that makes a film speak to an audience is tenuous and often, unfortunately, unaccountably missing. In "Rails & Ties," I felt it; in "Things We Lost in the Fire," I didn't. It would be interesting to find out how others compare and contrast the two.

Things We Lost In The Fire
Director Susanne Bier
Writer Executive Producer Allan Loeb
Cast: Halle Berry, Bannock Del Toro, David Duchovny, Alexis Llewellyn , Micah Berry

Story: Brian and Audrey Burke (played by David Duchovny and Halle Berry) are married with two children. They live very comfortably in their Architectural Digest-y home in the woody suburbs somewhere in Washington State. They have their ups and downs - approaches to child rearing being one, but most divisive his Duchovny's long time friendship with Jerry Sunborne (played by Benicio Del Toro), childhood friend, lawyer, then down-and-out junkie. Duchovny never gives up on his friend; Berry never accepts this dangerous relationship. Duchovny dies while being a good Samaritan and, of course, his family is in the throes of grief. Berry approaches Del Toro and asks him to move in. We are never told why. Perhaps because he was her husband's best friend and there is some lingering aura of Duchovny about him, perhaps because she wants to make amends for her enmity towards him, perhaps because she can't bare to be alone. He tries valiantly to be a help to her and her children.

Here's my problem -- I overdosed on meaningful close-ups. Oh, so many meaningful close-ups - of eyes, of ears, of toes, of hands. Then the meaningful shower scenes. Nothing gratuitous - in the sense of nudity, at least. Just trying to wash away the pain, forget, find solace in water running down one's face -- whatever. Way too many showers. If the meaningful close-ups and showers, significant shots of objects and symbolic references were deleted, there'd be about 45 minutes of movie left -- enough for a one-hour special on Lifetime or Oxygen. Also, they distracted me from feeling for the characters. I could watch from an emotional distance and note how beautiful Berry is (not to take away from her acting); how gorgeous the house is; how absolutely perfect the children look and behave; how in a certain light and tilt of the head, Del Toro looks very much like James Dean. I was interrupted too often by beauty shots to feel for the characters.

Director Susanne Bier has been gathering international acclaim since her graduation film from National Film School of Denmark in 1987 to her biggest hit in 2006, "After the Wedding" which was nominated for a Best Foreign Film Academy Award. She is becoming a master (I will never use the word mistress) of the subtlety of complex human interactions. I don't know if she got carried away with the technical possibilities of making her first American film or if this heady ride just got away from her -- in terms of the dazzling visuals. She did pay a tribute to her Dogma roots by allowing the only music in the film to come out of Del Toro's headphones. How far away Dogma seems from this film otherwise.

However, I will watch anything with Benicio Del Toro in it. He doesn't work enough and I don't know if it's his decision or the powers-that-be, but I won't miss his wonderful performances in anything. And as for type-casting, he seems to have been born to play a junkie whether he takes drugs or not, and that's none of my business. I am convinced by his very face from the get go. His suffering, his compassion, his yearning, be it for drugs or a second, third or fourth chance -- I am mesmerized by him.

As for the duel themes of grieving by wife Berry at the loss of husband David Duchovny and addiction by Del Toro, I don't think we covered any new ground here, and based on other films (everything I know is from the movies), I don't think it was very accurate. As for the overall theme upon which the title is based -- Things We Lost In The Fire -- that possessions don't matter as long as you have the people you love, well, Aunt Bessie told me that when I was a child, and I'm sure all of you had someone tell you the same thing. We've seen news footage of Katrina victims and those of other disasters say, "I didn't lose my family and that's all that matters."

One little aside, and the importance of it is that it is just an aside in the film, is that Berry (half black) and Duchovny (white) are a married couple with two children, and no reference to race appears in the film at all. We see a funeral with both races mingling without friction. We see a white woman (Duchovny's mother) sedated on a bed which she shares with grieving Berry and her daughter. Race is not an issue in this film. May the trend continue.

So what you can expect to come away from this film with is memories of how incredibly beautiful Hale Berry is, and boy, can she cry; how magnetic Benicio Tel Toro is; and messages you've heard before and should remember.

My Kid Could Paint That (2007)
by Amir Bar-Lev
The Olmstead Family, art critics, reporters, friends
85 min
PG 13 (don't know why)

This is a story about the Olmstead family in Binghamton, New York. Dad Mark is a manager in a factory, mom Laura is a dental assistant, they're two small children are well behaved, happy and well adjusted. And one of those children, 4 year old Marla, is a world-famous, sought-after, modern artist.

60 Minutes did a story on the family. What idiot goes on a show that is famous for digging up scams, scandals and controversy? Of course, the successful career of Marla is brought into doubt when a camera, with consent of parents, spies Marla painting a picture, and dad's voice off-camera is heard saying "How about more red there," and similar coaching statements. A psychiatrist says "This child is not a prodigy" and the painting produced on camera does not compare with her other works. Again, if dad indeed did coach Marla during the whole course of her career: (1) why do it with a sound-camera from a national network show recording?; (2) is suggesting a bit of red enough to constitute manipulation and fraud?

That is the most significant issue brought up in "My Kid Could Paint That." Oh, how we all do love an exposé. Did Mark intervene, and if so, how much: suggestions, demands, even painting the works himself? The art supplies were there for him originally, and Marla bugged him so much, that he thought letting her paint to shut her up was better than just sitting her down in front of the TV.

More interesting are: if a 4 year old could paint works of modern art on par with those hanging in MOMA, the validity of modern art and the prices these works get at auction are seriously brought into question. Also, what price fame on children? Mom tearfully apologizes for bringing both positive and negative exposure to her children. Actually, I see no harmful effects of the negative exposure regarding the scandal of artistic interference on Marla. I'm sure it doesn't matter to her if her art sells or not or how many talk shows she's on. She doesn't know people are sending hate emails to her parents. She doesn't know that the authenticity of her art is in question. And from what we see on camera, both children are loved and respected at home.

Another issue is how good PR effects the reputation of an artist and the value of the art produced. Too bad Vincent only had Theo repping him. If a story of insanity, obsessive love of a cousin rebuffed, going from the coal mines of Holland to the cafés of Paris, taking in a prostitute and her child, oh, any story with a good hook appeared in the Arts section of the New York Times, it could have made Van Gogh rich in his time and maybe saved his life. A small town's reporter's human interest story about a 4 year old's hobby of oil painting with a few photos caught the eye of the Times and the snowball started rolling down the mountain.

What was not brought up at all in the film is that this child is a girl, and in the world of art, woman are still less than second rate citizens. I wonder if Marla's brother Zane took up the brush instead of her, would his pieces fetch twice the price of hers or if one is pre-pubescent, does gender not matter in the art world?

Hey, while we're talking about it -- what is a pretty picture, let alone art, let alone great art? Interesting discussions among experts and collectors really don't answer any questions, but the debate is interesting. One thing for sure, if you have a videotape of a child painting a canvas and you then buy the said canvas, you can be sure she did it and it will be worth more than her others. You can check out her art yourself at www.marlaolmstead.com. Like it over the sofa or on the refrigerator?

The Brave One (2007)
Director: Neil Jordan
Writers: Roderick Taylor, Bruce A. Taylor, Cynthia Mort
Cast: Jodie Foster, Terrence Howard, Naveen Andrews, Mary Steenburgen
Rated R

There have been lots of vigilante films in the past, but never with a woman as the vigilante. Yes, women have been driven to kill -- for personal or family reasons: retribution for rape or abuse of oneself or rape or murder of one's child, but never just to rid the streets of bad guys, any bad guys. Julia Roberts' screen persona kills her abusive husband in self-defense after an almost-perfectly planned escape from him in "Sleeping With The Enemy." Jennifer Lopez's battered wife trains for the moment of truth so she can ultimately be free of her abusive husband. Sally Field's character devises the perfect plan for killing the rapist-murderer of her daughter in "Eye For An Eye," and does get away with it. Then again, there are sweet little old maiden aunts Abby and Martha Brewster in "Arsenic And Old Lace," who do lonely old men the favor of sending them on to a better world, but they were homicidal maniacs. Not quite the same thing.

I can't think of a film in which a woman avenges the death of her mate. And here it is. Is this a new high or low for women in film? Is it a product of a new respect for the strength of women or a new fear or backlash? This is a question for others with a loftier view to answer. Still, interesting to ponder.

I did find the evolution of this vigilante, Erica Bain, played by Jodie Foster, very interesting and sympathetic. The story goes -- she and her fiancé are walking the dog one night in Central Park. She obviously has no fear of the city to do something that reckless. They are accosted, both being beaten so severely, the fiance is dead and Jodie spends the next several months recovering in the hospital. She has become another person, one who is always fearful, almost becoming agoraphobic, one whose life has become meaningless and empty. Eventually, she wants to start again and go back to work. Her fear is too intense and she arms herself with a gun to be able to face the mean streets. The progression of violence from self-defense, to having a choice (flee or fight), to looking for trouble is truly fascinating and Foster executes the arc with mastery.

My problem with this taught thriller is there aren't supposed to be any cheap plot devices or nonsensical motivations, and there are. Neil Jordan directed. The man who wrote and directed "Mona Lisa" and "The Crying Game" and "End of the Affair" and "Breakfast on Pluto" knows better than to allow these problems in a script. Well... I did always know the chick in the bar was really a guy in "The Crying Game." Didn't you? Being an American film and his being English can't be it. He's made big budget, American films before: "In Dreams," "Interview with the Vampire." They didn't resort to clumsy plot development (even though I still believe Tom Cruise was miscast as LeStat).

For instance, how do we get Foster's Erica Bain to meet and psychologically spar with good cop, Detective Mercer, played by Terrence Howard? Looks like the writers and Neil Jordan ran out of ideas. After one of her killings, she returns to the scene of the crime and stands under a klieg (I mean street) light, drawing Howard's attention to her, and they start up a conversation. Ridiculous. You say, "But criminals often return to the scene of their crimes." She hadn't before and she didn't after, and nothing in the story refers to her having any need to return to the scene of her crimes for any reason. Soon as it happened, I was pissed, my very soul screaming PLOT DEVICE! It's such an otherwise well crafted film with great acting and sensitivity by its players. Why resort to this? And there's another blaring plot device. Can you catch it? Be sharp. It's stupid and necessary to keep the story moving.

So, what's to stop us all from carrying a gun and protecting ourselves? Once Bain got her neat 9 mm, it seemed absolutely necessary for survival, at least in New York City. Should we all tote? More than the possibility of being caught, it's the toll on our souls that keeps most of us honest. Is she actually "The Brave One" or a soulless killer, hopelessly damaged by her horrible experiences? Should she get away with it? Well, all of us in the theater sure felt good when the bad guys got what was coming to them.

The Jane Austen Book Club (2007)
Directed and screenwriter: Robin Swicord
From the book by Karen Joy Fowler
Cast:Maria Bello, Emily Blunt, Kathy Baker, Amy Brenneman, Maggie Grace, Jimmy Smits, Hugh Dancy, Lynn Redgrave

I have often said that all life's lessons can be found in The Simpsons. Just watch enough episodes, and you'll find it. It seems all life's lessons are also found in the 6 novels written by Jane Austen. Who knew? Well, those who have read them did, so it would seem.

The Jane Austen Book Club is a collection of women: the 6-time married woman of the world (Kathy Baker), the woman recently abandoned by her husband (Amy Brenneman), her Lesbian daughter (Maggie Grace), the worldly, fiercely independent woman ( Maria Bello), the prudish, unhappily married French teacher steaming with pent up desire (Emily Blunt), and a guy who just wants to be close to one of them and is willing to switch from sci fi to Victoriana for her (Hugh Dancy).

It's very amusing to see how each woman espouses parallels in her own life (emotional and de facto) in each of the Austen books, never conscious of these parallels, just admiring Austen's genius for recognizing the "woman's condition". Unexpressed passion, loneliness, love lost, propriety in a culture, limitations set upon women in that culture, games played between the sexes, women at different ages and their place in society, etc. It's all there, right in the books. Meanwhile these women and this man, try to maneuver through their own thorny path to love and happiness.

It's a great cast, all giving fine performances. It's a pleasure to know all of them as an unrecognized member of the Club which the audience becomes. These woman also like each other, a wonderful benefit of our new liberated age in which women are not always competing for men because their very existence depends on it. I like them all, they alllike each other -- except for the uptight French teacher (uptight and

French are a contradiction in terms, therefore, the inner tension). She was superior and insulting, and not much fun to be around. But she finally sees, or reads, the light and starts using the mantra "What would Jane do?" to lead her to enlightenment.

I can't help wondering if there could be a Dostoevsky Book Club or a Baldwin Book Club or a Bronte Book Club that could as easily be used for any group of people to recognize their own relationship problems. Is Jane just a platform by which these people can recognize and express their own situations?

And it was wonderful to see people reading. In a culture that no longer allows for people reading, I don't think the general public knows exactly how, when and where to do it. There's always a game or a soap or a reality show on TV, or the kids to take care of or errands to run. This film shows people reading, only reading, not multitasking, not even listening to music or walking on a treadmill at the same time. Just reading. And they look like they're enjoying it, are engrossed, even transported. It didn't seem to hurt at all. Brava! Let's all pick up a book and read. Let's not wait for it to come out on film. Oh, by the way, "One Hundred Years of Solitude" by Marquez is in production right now. Can't wait.

Jimmy Carter: Man From Plains (2007)
Directed by Jonathan Demme

I have to admit, the phrase "Man from Plains" sounds a little too John Wayne-ish to me. Sure, he talks about how his farm has been in his family for generations and a core part of his identity is his land, and he understands that sense of identity in people all over the world (and in this film specifically the Palestinians). But "Man from Plains" is a bit to dramatic for my tastes. Surely, just saying "Jimmy Carter" should be enough to evoke an image of the man. After all, he was our President and not that long ago. He was the man who got all the hostages out of Iran (the first modern act of terrorism against the U.S.) without starting a war, bombing, bloodshed, getting rich with reconstruction costs and very little actual reconstruction. He was the man who, after 6000 years of enmity, brought peace to the Egyptian-Israeli conflict. For his efforts, he won the Nobel Peace Prize. It was truly amazing to see the news footage of Sadat and Bagien hugging each other, with Carter watching on. Even though both leaders were assassinated, peace between those countries lasts to this day. He was the man who started Habitat for Humanity, picking up a hammer and building houses with other volunteers all over the world for those without homes due to poverty or catastrophe. He is the man behind the Carter Center, an organization bringing together representatives from countries in conflict, helping in resolving those conflicts, waging peace, and actually making a difference.

In this film, directed by Jonathan Demme, Carter is on a publicity tour for his controversial book, Palestine Peace, not Apartheid -- This is not making friends for him among the Israelis and their supporters. It's amazing to watch him field questions from talk show hosts and reporters, many of them hostile. He calmly explains the well researched situation in Palestine and the Palestinians' loss of human rights. He is not anti-Israeli, as the medallion he could wear around his neck given to him from the King of Sweden can attest. He is pro humanity in a worldwide sense, without regard to lobbyists, political pressures, status of ex-president. He wants peace without sacrificing human dignity and he has stood up for that since his political life began.

I think it's important to see this very entertaining film, to not forget that there was once a time when political figures' moral stature was not in question. Yes, he "lusted after women," but never cheated on his wife. He found solutions without invasion. He never used fear tactics to sway his constituents, but pride in the tenets of democracy (not jingoism). His presidential administration (which is only slightly touched upon in this documentary) was rife with problems: a Congressional majority of Republicans who thwarted most of his initiatives, increasing tensions in the middle east, oil shortages, etc. And he couldn't win a second term. But let us not forget what integrity is in politics. Don't worry: it's fast paced, and really interesting. You will enjoy it.

Dedication (2006)
Director/Co-writer: Justin Theroux
Co-writer: David Bromberg
Cast: Billy Crudup, Mandy Moore, Tom Wilkinson, Dianne Wiest, Bob Balaban, Martin Freeman
111 minutes

Henry Roth (Billy Crudup) is a children's book writer. His partner-illustrator of the books and only friend, Rudy Holt (Tom Wilkinson) dies, Henry is assigned a new illustrator, Lucy Riley (Mandy Moore) for his next book. With Rudy gone, the plot becomes boy meets girl, boy looses girl, boy gets girl back. This is not a film about plot. For instance, it may be irony that this children's book writer is a dark, brooding character with as many phobias and compulsive behaviors as TV's Monk, but we never see him come up with any ideas for children's books. The film opens with him and Holt in a porn theater so Rudy, not Henry, can find inspiration. What did he expect to find there but a beaver as a new character? What about port had inspired him for previous books? I found this plot device lame. Please, beaver! Throughout the film, Henry never writes a word or has any ideas for the boook, unlike another agonized children's book writer, Jeff Bridges in "The Door in the Floor." For months, Bridges removes and inserts a proposition into his story dozens of times till he's sure he's got it just right. Every word counts. Henry is the opposite -- he has no words at all. And I have no reason to believe he ever did. Both are characters I wouldn't want to babysit any kid of mine.

Later, when boy looses girl, the cause is money. Hello, she was hired to draw for him. Hello again, he's getting paid even more than she is. And uiltimate hokey hello, she donates all the money to charity. Looks like screenwriter David Bromberg was lacking in imagination when it came to causes for breakups. And oh, the pebble! The significance of the pebble! The unique, one of a kind, looks-like-a-little-creature-is-trapped-inside pebble! The I-threw-it-away,- I'll-find-it-again-to-win-her-back pebble. The desperation of this screenwriter to find a symbol of love and dedication! I'll say no more about the pebble. And if I've said too much about the plot, no matter. That's not why one should see this film.

This movie is about characters, the agony of the hurt mind, it's healing process. the need for connection, for love. The dialogue is brilliant. The performances by all were riveting. Crudup, even playing a cold, insulting, child-frightening (he tells one autograph seeking recent adoptee, "There is no Santa and beaver is another word for vagina."), still has me on his side. And how does Mandy Moore go from "Georgia

Rule", bubble gum, pop singing, goody two shoes, to a very convincing actress? I had to drop all my previous vitriol for her. Even her name rankled me -- before this film.

The cause of all Henry's psychological problems is his mother. What she did to him is alluded to several times, but she is never seen in flashback, and details about her are never given. I found that interesting. But Lucy's mom (Dianne Wiest) is a living nightmare. In turn, she is a loving supporting mother, writing a check to help out her daughter; then she suddenly takes back the check, tears it up, tearfully saying her daughter must leave the nest, then angrily sneers that Lucy has to pay the rent or get out. She then smiles warmly and offers to help her find another apartment where she'll have to pay less than she is paying now to her mom! One wonders how Lucy survived. Wiest was terrifying in her mercurial performance. I even want to see this film again. The conversations with the dead, deadbeat need to sleep with heavy books on one's chest, Seauss like illustrations, search for inspiration and inner workings of the world of publishing were all worth the price of admission.

Outsourced (2006)
Directed by John Jeffcoat
Written by George Wing & John Jeffcoat
Cast: Josh Hamilton, Ayesha Dharker, Larry Pine, Asif Basra, Matt Smith
103 minutes

This controversial premise makes it difficult for the audience to take a side on the issue of outsourcing: companies moving manufacturing, customer service, telephone sales and support overseas. Want that statue of a bald eagle and American Flag, but refuse to buy one produced in China and sold by phone by a subcontinent Indian? Then pay $220 more for one made here and sold from a website based in the U.S. Feel bad for American workers put out of work by outsourcing? Then watch the Indians (from India) loose their jobs to the Chinese. We might be witnessing the evolution of business. It might just be that the standard of living, unions and minimum wage, and availability of education in the U.S., coupled with vast populations in third world countries that are ready and willing to work for what we consider low wages makes unskilled labor unaffordable here anymore. Any kid in the U.S. who thinks he or she can survive. without a high school diploma, no, a college degree is in for a brutal shock. You'll notice that the staff at fast food restaurants are all teens. Where do they go at age 20? Don't ask. But the salary offered to the Indian cast of "Outsourced" makes lifelong dreams come true. And since American businessmen are the bosses, they don't see any social problem with promoting women. So, Indian women can have opportunities for independence unheard of before outsourcing. I think this film is telling us we're just going to have to flow with it. There's no going back. When I call Dell's tech rep, I will just have to ask him to keep repeating himself until I understand him, be his accent Chinese, Indian, Mexican, or Filipino. So goes our global village.
And while we learn to accept outsourcing, we get a love story, or something like it, and a fish-out-if-water story. Todd Anderson (played by Josh Hamilton) not only loses his job as manager of a customer call center in Seattle, he has to train his replacement in India if he wants to keep his stock options, pension and a bunch of other parting goodies. Obviously, poor Josh has never seen any foreign films, never bought imported fruit, and knows absolutely nothing about culture outside of Seattle. I'm saying it's laid on a little thick. He doesn't know that family is important in India and adult children don't move out until they're married. He's never eaten a mango! Never heard of arranged marriages. While in India getting the call center up to speed with those wacky, eccentrically foreign and naive Indians, he not only learns about a foreign culture, he learns how to accept differences between people and the value of those differences. He also practices a little Kama Sutra with Asha, his prize employee (played by Ayesha Dharker). All the children are beggars, all the cab drivers argue and bargain, all the older women want to feed and marry off Todd. Writer George Wing and writer/director John Jeffcoat could have delved a little deeper into the subtleties of the Indian culture. Still, a cute story with a very relevant issue. Didn't get to see the beautiful India in this film, but a truer, more haphazardly industrialized one, overpopulated and chaotic. The visuals are actually much more intriguing and thought provoking than the dialogue.

The Hottest State (2006)
Written / Directed by Ethan Hawke
From the book by Ethan Hawke
Cast: Mark Webber, Catalina Sandino Moreno, Laura Linney, Ethan Hawke, Michelle Williams, Sonia Braga

The film begs the questions: Why do people fall in love with each other, why do they either fall out of love or become broken hearted when it ends? The answers are only subtly implied, I would imagine because there really are no answers, certainly none that would apply from one relationship to the next. William (Mark Webber) falls hard for Sara (Catalina Sandino Moreno). Even she repeatedly asks him why since she thinks she is just a boring, unexceptional person. We do get a hint because when we first meet our protagonists and they meet each other, they are in a bar and William suddenly ignores the woman he's with (Michelle Williams) (later we find out she's his ex-girlfriend) to chat up Sara. I found this incredibly rude and an indication of his character; but it was a red herring. Sara is earnest, direct, warm, honest and pretty. In contrast, we later find ex-girlfriend Samantha is catty, manipulative, opportunistic, superficial and really hot. Okay, between the two woman, it makes sense for William to prefer Sara. Why would Sara fall for William? He's persistent, yet patient with her, brings her gifts, truly courts her and eventually wears down her resistance.

Why does she break up with him? Ah, this does display Hawke's writing and directing skill. Was she too happy on their vacation and feared it would or wouldn't last? Did she have her fill of him? Did she never really love him and wanted more "space"? Her motives and feelings are intentionally vague, as are all women’s from a man's perspective, as this film is.

Why is he in such pain, so heartbroken, when she dumps him? Again ah, might have something to do with his feeling dumped by his father (Hawke) at a tender age). His mother (Laura Linney) does her best to explain to him that he's going suffer in his life, hopefully several times so he can get some perspective. Suck it up and get on with it. She is also busy with her own affairs.

There are a couple of incredibly moving moments: one when William calls and leaves messages -- 4 in a row -- to Sara, begging her to call, insulting her, begging her to call. It's pathetic and clearly shows his erosion into -- maybe a becoming stalker, maybe a man ruined beyond repair. The other scene -- between Hawke and Webber, father and son -- in which William finally releases his bitterness and hurt because his father stopped corresponding with him and did not fulfill his promise to take him into his home at the age of 12 -- and Hawke's passive, apologetic response displayed acting ability I didn't know Hawke possessed.

Okay, I didn't know Hawke possessed any particularly striking talents. I was ready to poo poo this movie because I got personal. I didn't like him for cheating on his wife, Uma Thurmin, and causing the break up of their family. I had to let that go while watching this film because it's just damned good. Maybe he's publicly displaying his karma -- "Sure, I screwed up my relationship with Uma, but I've been screwed in the past." No excuse, but the tenderness and insight into the heart of a young man reduced to near-insanity by the pain of losing his love got to me.

And I don't see this as a vanity production, which I've discussed in films below, like "Interview," This film, and I'm sure it's predecessor book, show serious intent in creating something other than a platform for a man's ego. It is serious writing, screenwriting and filmmaking. This project seems more important to Hawke than an egotistical need to show off skills not seen in works controlled by others.

Mind you, I don't understand the goings-on within this relationship, the motivations, the actions. But how can one understand these things in other people? I accepted their honesty. Last year, "Flannel Pajamas" also tracked the relationship of a young New York couple. The acting was admirable, the writing seemed very representative of the problems and language used in real relationships, but it just didn't wring true to me and I just didn't care much about the characters. "The Hottest State" gives a much more accurate and emotionally charged course of a doomed love affair. I don't know if we can sidestep any pitfalls in our relationships because we've seen this film, but we can sure feel for the characters, neither of them the bad guys, both of them struggling to find their own ways.

Chalk (2006)
Director, Co-Writer: Mike Akel
Cast: Chris Mass, Troy Schremmer, Jeff Guerrero, Shannon Haragan, Janelle Schremmer,

What we get to see here are personality clashes, an unfulfilled romance, inept teachers. There were a few funny lines and situations, but compared to your typical, run-of-the-mill, garden variety mockumentary, there's not a whole lot to laugh at or to appreciate in the satire of in this film. Droll is being kind.

What Chalk doesn't address: violence; drugs; sex and STDs; low pay; political backstabbing; poor food in the cafeteria and vending machines causing childhood obesity; poor grades throughout the nation, especially compared to foreign countries and especially Japan; administration at odds with teaching staff; teachers forced to teach subjects in which they know nothing (my art teaching sister was forced to teach math -- a true injustice to her students). What, nothing funny there, nothing relevant, nothing to satirize?

All the main characters are young and white. A few very short scenes take place in the teachers' lounge where teachers of various ages and ethnicities make brief comments.

This film did very well at Cinequest, Florida Film Festival, IFF Boston, Gen Art Film Festival, Jacksonville Film Festival, Los Angeles Film Festival -- which goes to show, seeing olive leaf branches and the word Winner in the print ads and on the commercials, does not mean a film is good. Conspicuously absent are recognizable festivals like Cannes, Berlin, Toronto, Sundance (which I tend to distrust), SF International or any other festival whose name we recognize. Bottom line: not enough yuck for the buck.

Delirious (2006)
Writer / Director Tom DiCillo
Cast: Steve Buscemi, Michael Pitt, Alison Lohman, Gina Gershon

What do you think of if I say "a movie written and directed by Tom DiCillo and starring Steve Buscemi"? Of course, "Living in Oblivion," one of the greatest ironic, funny and smart exposés of the world of independent filmmaking. Now, what other satiric mountains can they climb, what untapped subculture to scrutinize with a wry, witty and scathing eye? This time, "Delirious" probes the world of celebrity and the paparazzi. Buscemi is a near-do-well paparazzi photographer (just wait till he makes the rounds with his portfolio and starts getting the classy assignments). DiCillo must have written "Delirious" with Buscemi in mind; clearly, no one else could have taken on this role as brilliantly, frenetically, and with as much dry humor as Buscemi. DiCillo's writing is hysterically smart; Buscemi's delivery is seriously neurotic. His character is completely unaware that what he is saying is ironic and self-contradictory.

The difference between brilliance and vanity is clearly seen if you contrast "Delirious" with "Interview." Buscemi wanted a role counter to his best abilities. He wanted to play a serious, dramatic role in which he intrigues a beautiful woman. That's "Interview," and he had to write and direct it himself because nobody else would ever waste him in that kind of part. DiCillo fully utilizes Buscemi's talents in "Delirious." Sorry, Steve, no intellectual and romantic confrontations for you. Your fate lies elsewhere.

It's hard to make a paparazzi the protagonist of a film and expect the audience to sympathize. Added to the low life character of the job, the individual is also selfish, self-deceptive, manipulative, angry and overall a not-too-attractive person. But Buscemi takes you inside the tormented mind of the man (Les) who has little talent, no breaks, and way too much smarts. He has to justify his failures to himself; he has to keep on keeping on.

He meets up with a street urchin named Toby (Michael Pitt) and takes him in. Toby sleeps in Les' closet and gets fed, and in return he becomes Les' assistant. The fates look favorably on Toby and wondrous opportunities open up for him, like sunshine breaking through the clouds after a storm. Toby drifts from opportunity to opportunity, never blowing it because he is essentially good and considerate. Les' fury and anguish build with the recognition of every grace bestowed to Toby while he, Les, continues to trog in the gutter living from hand to mouth with no glimmer of hope on the horizon.

All this takes place in Tribeca and Soho in Southern Manhattan, the latest hot spot for artists, celebrities and up-and-comers. We see into the pampered lives of celebrities and the worker bees who exist only to fulfill every wish these brats come up with. Still we feel a slight bit of sympathy for the plight of the young, beautiful, and rich. Well, very little, actually, but we do. We drift with Toby from a sidewalk encounter with a celebrity needing a bit of a rescue, to backstage parties, to the bedroom of the same young, gorgeous Britany-of-the-moment celebrity, to moving in with a big time casting director, to reality show fame to being the object of paparazzi himself. And we watch Les slide deeper and deeper into jealousy, despair and revenge.

If any of you are interested in the world of celebrity, gossip, star making, young hunks - male and female, and, of course, the consummate comedic skills of Steve Buscemi, you can't miss "Delirious."

Starting Out In The Evening (2007)
Directed by Andrew Wagner
Screenplay: Fred Parnes & Andrew Wagner
From the novel by Brian Morton
Cast: Frank Langella, Lili Taylor, Lauren Ambrose, Adrian Lester
111 minutes

I recently saw Resurrecting the Champ, review below, which depicts a man's descent from almost winning the world boxing championship to being a homeless, friendless, abused, unhealthy wreck of his former self. Starting Out In The Evening is another study on an aging man's loss. In this case, Leonard Schiller (Frank Langella) is a retired professor and writer of four once well-known novels. His works are being forgotten; within another generation, they will be completely lost since they are already out of print. In a scene that takes place at a book opening party, a publisher vaguely recalls his works and refers to the group of writers with which he was identified as those white men in suits who go to bed early. And indeed, even though long retired, he still wears a suit and tie, and now out of necessity rather than habit, he goes to bed early.

A young graduate student, Heather Wolfe (Lauren Ambrose), has read his books. She was particularly moved by his first two, soft and sympathetic, lyrical and romantic, and she wants to write her master's thesis on his oeuvre, as it were. He allows her into his home to interview him, but their several-months-long relationship turns personal, even invasive, probing his innermost feelings, and it even turns romantic. Oh, a young woman's lust for the young hero of the books that have moved her most, even "change her life" -- only she meets him 30 years after his youth has left him. Besides her own youthful exuberance in meeting her literary hero, she is manipulative and dangles the carrot of renewed fame before him. "When my thesis is published, there will be renewed interest in your books and they will be republished." So, he continues to meet with her, continues to write his next novel, 10 years in the making, and continues to age.

He also has a daughter (Lili Taylor) who has successfully overcome her resentment over her father's absence during her formative years, locked away in his study writing his books. But she hasn't found it as easy to resign herself to never having children because her boyfriend is adamant on the subject. Her biological time clock is not only ticking, the alarm is sounding and a choice has to be made.

It was wonderful listening to very smart people talk to each other. They don't use particularly big words, they just use words to their best advantage. They say what they mean, and so much more. It was calming, visiting the Upper West Side of New York, the area set aside for writers, intellectuals, college professors and journalists. The book-lined walls, overstuffed chairs made for long hours of quiet reading, contemplation and listening to pre-19 Century classic music, the telling wine red walls, all created a safe, uterine environment where people speak softly and don't waste words on chatter.

Leonard Schiller is not angry or desperate because his books, his life's work, will soon be lost. Even the book he is in the process of writing suffers a dismal future. "I have followed my characters for 10 years, and they don't do anything interesting." Also, his genetic line will be over with his daughter since she will likely not have children. Leonard Schiller is resigned. He does seem to accept going out with a whimper rather than a bang. He does accept his fate.

Should I feel any worse for either of these two men: Schiller the white man who had a successful career that died before he did; or Bob Satterfield (Samuel L. Jackson) in Resurrecting the Champ, the African-American almost-champ reduced to eating out of dumpsters and getting pummeled on a regular basis by college kids with too much testosterone and too little morals?

What a stupid question! Why did I even ask it? Of course, all our hearts should go out to Satterfield and everyone else in this most marginalized, distressed and dangerous situation. We should be outraged that people can be sloughed off and abandoned in this society -- though it seems we've become complacent. Might have something to do with this administration. If there is a contest -- what movies should we see based on the need of the characters -- then Resurrecting the Champ wins hands down. But film isn't only about the most extreme situations, the most needy people, the most beautiful people, the most dangerous people, etc. It is, and should be, about the human condition in all its ramifications -- from an ex-boxer's lonely life on the street to an old writer's relationship with his daughter -- both contemplating their mortality. There are valid humanities in both, and we need to be reminded of them. I found Schiller's experiences as valid as Satterfield's, the lessons to be learned as enriching, the similarities between them more striking than their differences.

Resurrecting the Champ (2007)
Director: Rod Lurie
Writers: Michael Bortman, Allison Burnett
Cast: Samuel L. Jackson, Josh Hartnett, Kathryn Morris, Rachel Nichols, David Paymer, Terri Hatcher, Alan Alda, Peter Coyote
Running Time: 111 minutes
PG-13

If you think you'd enjoy a film about a young, handsome, up-and-coming sports journalist who catches a lucky break which enables him to turn around a stalled career only to confront a conflict of conscious, this film is for you. Josh Hartnett is to Resurrecting the Champ what Tom Cruise was to Jerry Maguire. He does a more than adequate job -- I watched closely this time to see if he could act or was only a pretty boy who could do a passable job. And I love that he's deeply in love with a woman a good 4 years old than him and at a higher position in the newspaper where they both work. And it's not an issue in the film. Brava.

If that's all you want from this film, then you'll get it, but you will be blown away by how much more you're going to get! Turns out Hartnett's lucky break is running into Samuel L. Jackson. Ours, too, because you won't see a better performance this year, or any other year. Jackson plays a homeless bum, at first glance, who turns out to be an ex-prize fighter who came very close to being the Champ. Jackson finds within himself not only the gentle falsetto of an ancient Mike Tyson and the bouncy feint and rebound walk of a Mohammad Ali in his prime, but a sharp wit and seasoned storyteller peppered with the moments of brain-damaged spacy gazes. This man is in his 70's, maybe 80's, having been in his prime in 1954 and even extreme close-ups on Jackson's aged, weathered and bruised face can only be partially attributed to the latest advances in special effects make-up. This is more than an outstanding performance, not only for all the characteristics combined to make the man, but the total is so much more than the sum of its parts. He is a sorrowful, yet proud man, humorous, gentle, astute, and empathetic. I may not want to stand close to him -- I can even smell his performance -- but my heart goes out to him. I want to help him, I want to believe him.

And that's just what Hartnett does. He believes Jackson who tells the tale of his prizefighting career. Having gotten close to the title, but loosing his chance at the title, having become a superior fighter in the Midwest where the competition is less experienced, having been conned by his manager and left penniless and half blind, having deserted his wife and son, having ended up on the street near the arena where he was once famous. Hartnett writes his story which ends up on the cover of the magazine section of the Sunday paper. Hartnett is riding high as his career skyrockets, but what of the fallout? What did Josh turn a blind eye to?

This is not a story of the sport of prize fighting, even though the ugly facts of how the business abuses its champions -- through dishonest practices and through just the hard knocks and health problems these champions receive. Mohammed Ali is only the most famous of the victims of being battered for years, even though he won the fights. It's about fathers wanting the respect of their sons (as much as sons want the respect of their fathers); it's about seeing more than just what one wants to see and doing the right thing; it's about honesty versus a more personal truth.

p.s. Keep an eye out for Peter Coyote's short scene as an old fight manager. Unrecognizable, brilliant, best of his career.
p.p.s Who says a woman can't write a sports story? Allison Burnett co-wrote with Michael Bortman. It would be interesting to see how they worked together. Did they divvy up the fight story and the love story, the action and the moral questions? Hmmm...

Stardust (2007)
Director: Matthew Vaughn
Writers: Matthew Vaughn, Jane Goldman from the book by Neil Gaimen
Cast: Charlie Cox, Claire Danes, Michelle Pfeiffer, Robert De Niro, Sienna Miller, Peter O'Toole, Rupert Everett

So, which plot shall it be for this latest, big budget, special effect, fantasy? A young man adventuring to unknown lands to bring back proof to the fickle village beauty that his love is true? Shall three princes seek out an amulet which bestows the kingdom upon the first among them to find it? Shall an evil, aging Witch, hunt down a lovely young girl who can make said Witch and her two sisters young and beautiful again? All fairytale staples.

Stardust seamlessly weaves all the plots together. It's fast paced without being frenetic. The special effects are beautiful to watch -- from the opening shot of the moon, it's reflection traveling down an observatory telescope, to the eye of a 19th Century astronomer, through to an ancient wall that separates the world familiar to humans and that of witches and fantasy. The landscape is not so majestic as that of Middle Earth, but more familiar as an extension of the English countryside, only it's culture and physical laws are governed by fairytale logic.

Young Tristan (Charlie Cox), whose background is a mystery, is smitten by Victoria (Sienna Miller). She only sees him as a shopboy. They spot a falling star and Tristan vows to find that star and bring it back to prove his love. Meanwhile, but moments earlier, far away in the kingdom of Stormhold, the King (Peter O'Toole), lies on his deathbed and tells his 3, no 4, no 3, remaining sons that the one who captures the red stone amulet will be heir to the thrown. He releases the stone, with chain, in a pretty garish setting, from around his throat and it flies into the sky, colliding with a star. In a spectacular supernova, both rush back to earth, creating a really cool crater. At another part of the kingdom, three haggard old witches see the star falling. One of them, Lamia (Michelle Pfeiffer) must go and retrieve the star, which/who is now in the form of a young girl, Yvaine (Claire Danes), bring her back, take out her heart, eat it, and become young again. See how nicely this all weaves together. Of course, we all know how it will work out, but the journey is truly entertaining.

Michelle Pfeiffer is still the most gorgeous women... anywhere, anytime. Do I praise her too highly? It's just my opinion. She is radiant and timeless. To her credit, she allows the makeup department to wreck havoc on her. She starts out old and ugly. Uses up the last bit of star juice left from the witches last victim so she has the strength to hunt down the new fallen star. Each use of magic takes away a bit of that newfound youth and supple skin. It really is awful to watch Pfeiffer wither, especially on wide screen. I winced at every age spot on her hand

There is a lot of humor in this film, not all understandable by children, but very much appreciated by us adults. One might even categorize this film as a fantasy/comedy based on the generous use of humor throughout. Other mature content include a one night stand encounter, sacrificial animals just off screen with guts dangling from fingers, fratricide, animal mauling, suggestions of rape, disfigured ghosts. This might disturb the young ones, but it's great fun for us. Ergo the PG-13 rating.

Another highlight is Robert De Niro as a captain of a flying ship that captures lightening. Commerce in lightening is strictly illegal which makes him and his crew pirates of the high .... sky. He lends a hand and some wardrobe to our hero and heroine after having plucked them from a cloud. I'm always uncomfortable with De Niro being funny, but I'll let it go this time. He is written well and mugging is acceptable in these circumstances.

Claire Danes is the star and plays it with enough moxie, sensibility and gentility to be a real personality and one we root for. Too often in movies, I don't see why two people fall in love with each other, other than they're the only ones there. Here, I see the chemistry, the appeal, and the love growing between her Yvaine and Tristan. It makes heart sense, if you know what I mean.

Peter O'Toole even showed up as the dying king of Stormhold and played it with as much verve and professionalism as for any king written by Shakespeare. What a treat!

Here's a hint about overall film quality -- if a production can get big name stars to attach themselves, then something's got to be really good about. Of course, this doesn't guarantee a great film, but for De Niro, Pfeiffer and O'Toole to cross genres, it's got to have something going for it. For instance, Sean Connery was happy to work for a relative unknown Terry Gilliam for his fantasy "Time Bandits" based on the script. John Cusack signed on to work in the ghostly horror flick, "1408," so you could bet it wouldn't be typical schlock.

If you like fantasy, romance, soft action -- meaning no blood (a 93 year old man karate chopping a young man and sending him home is a violent highlight) -- Stardust is a great excursion.

Rocket Science (2007)
Writer/Director: Jeffrey Blitz+
Cast: Reece Daniel Thompson, Anna Kendrick, Nicholas D'Agosto, Vincent Piazza, Margo Martindale, Aaron Yoo, Josh Kay, Stephen Park

I have to say it -- this is not another teen movie. There are no cliques, no football team, no cheerleaders, no singled-out nerds, no bullies, no massacres, no Heathers. In "Rocket Science" we get down to true struggles teens have to face. How do you overcome your embarrasment if you stutter, or even overcome your stutter? How do you deal with an intimidating brother who is, at the same time, a thief and obsessive compulsive -- "Don't mess with the things I steal!" How do you roll with your mother and father breaking up, and a Korean small claims judge and his son moving in? To complicate things even more, one day, on the school bus, our protagonist, Hal Hefner (Reece Daniel Thompson) is approached by a girl who is in the debating team. She convinces him to join the team. Hal can barely say N n n no no no. He's the guy who can't even say "pizza" on the lunch line and always gets the "general fish." She says "Deformed people are the best, maybe it's because they have a deeper resource of anger," and she can see the spark of intelligence behind his eyes.

What would you do? If you believe the line Hollywood movies sell you, you'd buy her story, join the debating team, do the best you could, and, of course, win the State Debating Cup and become a high school hero. Ah, but this is an independent film. So, your choices are not so easy.