Mindhunters (2005)

So we're all good people. We know we should eat right, exercise, things like that. But deep down inside, every now and then we get cravings. Cravings that we know we should ignore, but somehow we can't. Myself, I happen to really like crullers. I try to eat good food for breakfast -- oatmeal, farina, healthful cold cereal, bagels, the occasional egg. But every now and then, I just gotta capitulate. At that point, I will go to Dunkin' Donuts and get myself a cruller. Or occasionally a Boston Creme, but usually crullers because they're light enough that I don't feel too bad about it but they're still sweet enough to feel decadent. Why do I bring this up? Because dammit, that's what Mindhunters is -- it's Cruller Cinema. I wish I could defend why I feel so sweet on a film rife with problems, a film that isn't any less stupid than something like The Nameless or Blade: Trinity. The best I can say is that Mindhunters may be junk, but it's fast and fun junk. It blazes by like a rocket, fully aware of the purpose it serves and content to be nothing more than empty-calorie filmic enjoyment. Renny Harlin is a hack, but (Exorcist: The Beginning not withstanding) he's a hack who knows his place in the world, and he knows how to make trash that shines like gold. I begrudge him nothing, and I feel no shame for my enjoyment of this. It's just that good.

Grade: B

Bad Education (2004)

Watery would-be noir from Pedro Almodovar, who should really know better. The problem could be that Pedro's central conceit (a story detailing a childhood sexual abuse that becomes a story-within-a-story) gets stretched entirely too thin. It could be that the conceit doesn't have enough to it to support a feature film. Or it could just be that his conceit isn't that interesting. Cathartic, yes, but not that interesting. Almodovar certainly has a way with an image, but I think it's sigificant that of the few films of his I've seen, the only one I've liked was the least typical (Live Flesh). Guess he's a blind spot for me.

Grade: C+

Blade: Trinity (2004)

Get a shovel, 'cause this franchise is dead. David S. Goyer killed it with his cheap flashy visuals and his MTV cutting and his incoherent screenplay that makes hash of the mythology laid out in the two previous films. (If the Reapers from Blade II were a mutation created by the Vampire King, why then does Dracula -- excuse me, Drake -- have the bifurcated jawline and the little Alien-head sucker?) Wesley Snipes looks like he needs a nap, and he's matched by Jessica Biel, the least convincing action hero since Cindy Crawford. There's also a surprisingly bizarre and interesting supporting cast (James Remar! Eric Bogosian! Natasha Lyonne! For God's sake, Patton Oswalt!) that is given absolutely nothing to do. This is unwatchable junk... or it would be if it weren't for Ryan Reynolds. I don't generally find Reynolds that amusing, but he walks into this film like Brando and shits on everything he sees. He seems to be the only one who understands this to be crap, and as such he allows himself to hew out a space where he can do what he wants whether or not it actually works within the film. It undermines the film's mood, true, but then the kind of butt-clenching solemnity on display in this movie could use some undermining. In other news, am I really the only cineaste in America who finds Parker Posey consistently intolerable? I mean, really people. She's a terrible, tone-deaf actress. Stop giving her work.

Grade: C

The Nameless (1999)

So Darkness wasn't a fluke then. Jaume Balaguero's debut film has many of the same strengths and weaknesses as that subsequent piece of junk. Visually, the film is often quite striking, and there are times when Balaguero's brio results in some fairly creepy sequences. But narratively, this thing is pretty hapless. It's not quite as sad as Darkness, since the story isn't Balaguero's invention -- it's based on a story by Ramsey Campbell that I've heard is quite frightening. But if I've said it once, I've said it too many times: What works on paper doesn't necessarily work on screen. The canvas of genre cinema simply isn't large enough to do justification to the characters Campbell created, and some of the plot conveniences don't ring true. Thus, what comes off as shivery on the page only feels silly on celluloid. If that's not bad enough, it tears itself apart at the end when it tries to go disturbing but doesn't know how to get there. If you ask me, it's all downhill from the closeup on the labial piercing.

Grade: C

The Searchers (1956)

So, um, what's the big deal? John Ford's direction is pretty much textbook-gorgeous, I'll give you that. But the story ain't that hot. It's a draggy and badly paced affair, riddled with poor comic relief and a useless subplot involving the relationship status of John Wayne's nephew. And about John Wayne... this would be my first John Wayne film ever, believe it or not. So somehow I'm not surprised that I'm not terribly impressed with his acting skills. He strikes me the same way Marilyn Monroe does -- more important for his iconic status than any actual (lack of?) talent. There are some good moments in the second half, and I guess I have to admire the film for making a pass at more shaded characterization than one usually finds in B-oaters. But at this point in time, Anthony Mann and Budd Boetticher were already making Westerns that were far more emotionally and narratively complex than this. So again, what's the big deal?

Grade: C+

The Marriage of Maria Braun (1979)

Gripping film about the fall and rise of post-WWII Germany as exemplified by the fortunes of the title character. I've heard it bandied about that most of Fassbinder's films are variations on a theme -- strong, cruel people manipulating weaker people for their own gains. If so, then the magic must all be in the details, and this film has 'em by the barrel: Whether it's a spontaneous mad scramble for a tossed-away half-smoked cigarette, or the natural and free intimacy between Maria and her American GI lover, or the Smithers-esque devotion of Senkenberg the accountant, Fassbinder sees all and understands all. I admire him for constructing an epic allegory out of a series of quiet character moments -- that takes some serious thought (not to mention some serious stones). He can't keep the film from going slack after a certain point (the abrupt ending is a bit quizzical), but he's done mostly damn fine work here. If all of his other films are along these lines, I could see myself becoming a fan.

Grade: B+

Tokyo Story (1953)

This is my first Ozu, and I have to say I'm a bit surprised. I know that Ozu's known for a minimalistic style, but that doesn't seem to be the right word for the filmmaking on display here. Rather, I think I'd use the word "rudimentary." There are points in the film where he can't even put together a two-shot without it feeling clumsy. Good thing, then, that the story is so strong -- within the interactions between the parents and their overly busy children, there is a beautiful simplicity that smooths out much of the rough filmmaking. It's like a haiku on crumpled, coffee-stained paper: It may not be perfect, but it's still lovely when you read it.

Grade: B

The Zodiac Killer (1971)

People talk about a work in progress all the time, but by the time they finish it's usually no longer carrying that title. This film, on the other hand, is a rarity in that it appears to still be unfinished even in its final version. It starts as a weird, boring character study of two potential killers, then the more obnoxious of the two is unceremoniously offed, at which point it turns into a weird, boring killer-taunts-the-police flick. However, the filmmakers still weren't satisfied, so they push the film further into following-the-killer-during-random-killings territory. And it's there that the film gets interesting; in its unaffected visual style and its series of murders played out as fact and not sensationalism, the film feels like a fetal version of Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer. Shame then about the filmmakers not having figured out where they wanted to go with the story before they turned on the camera. One good rewrite and we might have had a minor lost classic(k).

Grade: C-

Sleepaway Camp II: Unhappy Campers (1988)

This is a late-period first-wave slasher flick, from the point when the genre had descended into the no-return hell of self-mocking camp (no pun intended). It's no better nor no worse than any other entry of this period, really -- it's shoddy and cheapjack and barely useful as cinema except as a meat movie. Fortunately, I happen to get some cheap reptile-brain thrills out of most meat movies, so one man's poison and all that. The cheerful reincarnation of the previous film's sexually confused preteen killer into a chipper camper crusher is at least worth a look if you're into this sort of thing. It's regrettably thin on the gore, save for one unexpected decapitation, but it does make up for that by including one of the grossest murders in any slasher film ever (you'll know it when you see it). If you have any interest in this, you know grades are kind of pointless.

Grade: C-

Zero Day (2003)

Excellent Columbine-inspired film, comprised of video footage shot by two young guys as they plan a rampage at their school. Much like the similarly-themed Elephant, this film goes out of its way to naysay the usual scapegoats brought up whenever an incident like this takes place. Elephant was unable to fill the void left by the absence of motivation, but this film sidesteps that problem by allowing us into the killers' private world. As we spend time with these two obviously troubled but often quite likeable youths, we find ourselves uncomfortably close to sympathy for the devil. Credit is due to director Ben Coccio and his talented cast of amateurs for crafting and playing out a believable scenario that refuses to talk down to the audience. The film would have been chillingly perfect if it had ended where the found-footage ended; as it stands, the climactic security-cam footage is something of a letdown, a too-broad stroke in a film that otherwise teems with little intricacies. Still, this is potent filmmaking. Coccio is a guy to watch.

Grade: A-

Samaritan Zatoichi (1968)

There is no way I would have believed you if you'd told me that the high point in this long-running series would come twenty films in. But here it is, the best of the Zatoichi films. Everything just seems to come together in this entry: the villains are properly threatening and multitudinous, the story is compelling, the breaks from formula are well thought out, the comic sidekick is fun without being overbearing, the action scenes are awesome and there's actually even a couple unexpected plot twists. All of this is anchored by the reliably solid direction of go-to guy Kenji Misumi. Wonderfully entertaining stuff.

Grade: A-

Fate (2003)

Ace Cruz likes Se7en way too much, as this pale carbon copy proves. If you've seen the previous film, there's nothing at all to keep you watching this, unless you're unduly amused by the spectacle of faded stars embarassing themselves in crummy movies. Lee Majors, of all people, gives a fairly credible performance as the religious-fanatic killer, but everyone else walks around like they've got the world's worst case of agita. And if you were stuck acting out a script of rare stupidity like we have here, you'd probably have agita too. Consumer Advisory Dept.: There are zero (0) puppet people in this film. Metaphorical puppets, yes we have them. But who the fuck rents a serial-killer film for metaphors?

Grade: D

Unleashed (2005)

I suppose I have to respect this film's ambitious nature even as it ends up being precisely that nature that sinks it. If the film wasn't striving so hard to be something other than your average chop-socky flick (if, in other words, it was happy to be Kiss of the Dragon-style schlock), then the third act wouldn't feel like such a letdown. But really, there's so much interesting material in the film's first hour -- the lunatic concept is actually played out quite well, and the interaction between Jet Li and his new 'family' is surprisingly touching. (In fact, Li's performance here is something of a revelation; for a while, this looks like it could be his Punch-Drunk Love.) Bob Hoskins, too, deserves every bit of the acclaim his hugely amusing performance has accrued... but it's precisely the point where he reappears that the movie falls to pieces. Look, I know this is an action movie, so there needs to be action. I have no problem with the film's regression on that count, since the action scenes are generally pretty awesome. It's interesting also to see the peaceful message that Li most likely follows in his real life (you know, he being a Buddhist and all) smuggled in even as the film brings the pain. So that's not an issue either. My problem is with the sheer number of ridiculous contrivances that suffocate the third act. It's like everyone stopped caring. Come on... Li finding the telltale photograph? Li not knowing what money is, even though he presumably had used some earlier in the film to buy things like ice cream? And what about the ending? Yes, we need a happy ending, but... um, what the hell happened to all the other henchmen? The laziness of the climax speaks either to incompetence or arrogance, and either way it ruins an otherwise-intriguing movie.

Grade: C+

The Manson Family (2004)

As odd as this sounds, this film is kind of the flipside to The Passion of the Christ -- both films are what they are. They have a built-in audience and play almost exclusively to that audience. If you believe in Jesus or Manson, the movie is for you. Otherwise, you might want to join a sewing circle or something. This mock-doc is pretty much for Mansonophiles only, as it offers no insight or revelation into the workings of the Family that you can't get anywhere else. It does, however, have lots and lots of sex, plus the obvious climactic killing spree. If that's enough for you, have at it. Also, someone should tell Jim Van Bebber that his framing device is retarded and should be sent back to the black-metal video from whence it came.

Grade: C

She Hate Me (2004)

This, the latest from uneven auteur Spike Lee, may be the most impressive failure I've ever seen. What we have here is Spike in pissed-off-satirical mode. The problem is that when Spike gets his dander up, he's one of those guys who gets so angry that he's reduced to sputtering. He's got things to say about modern corporate culture, but he loses his way with his preposterous plotting and his tendency towards too-muchness (which results in about twelve subplots too many in a film that didn't need any). But then, does he lose his way? I mean, complaining about the preposterousness of the premise is pointless, because it's so out-there that it can't be taken seriously on any rational level. So clearly we're in the realm of metaphor. And once you get past the outlandishness of it, it's a decent metaphor. The emphasis isn't on the sex but on the money -- it's a film about how unfettered, Enron-style capitalism eventually turns everyone into a whore. You can allow yourself to be whored out and profit, or you can fight it and eventually see yourself destroyed by the system. In this light, the lesbian angle seems the only way to go -- it's the only way to keep the arrangement purely business. It works on one level even as it fails on another. Also, there's credence to Ebert's theory that Lee is exploding stereotypes by indulging them to their nth degree. So... yeah. It's a frustrating film, with lots of good moments and lots of bad ones (the subplot with Q-Tip is fairly dire, even if he and lead Anthony Mackie play off each other well). It's strange and messy and kind of likeable. It's not good, but I get the feeling I'll end up seeing it again some day soon, and I wouldn't tell you not to see it if you were interested.

Grade: C+

Exorcist: The Beginning (2004)

I'm not a big fan of the original Exorcist (it leans too heavily on its shock effects, and as previously stated theologically-minded horror films tend to leave me cold), but I do respect its ambition. Here was a film attempting to examine the inexplicability of evil, the oft-random cruelty of sickness and death... plus it was doing all this whilst framing the argument in Catholic terms. It could be said that The Exorcist is one of the rare Hollywood films to wrestle with why God lets bad things happen. Bad things, like, say, this absolutely vile prequel, which takes the ideas and themes that have run through the entire series and expunges them, leaving only the blood-and-thunder followup that Warner always wanted but could never quite convince anyone to make. The end result, as you might imagine, is wretched. It's a series of orgiastic gore effects in search of a movie, with the only advice from the studio apparently being "more disgusting = more better." So we have a boy torn apart by hyenas and a woman birthing a maggot-covered baby and crowns pecking apart a corpse and other such fun stuff. I realize it's probably disingenuous for me, of all people, to complain about a film's violent content, given my positive response to films like Ichi the Killer (which has at least three scenes that feel positively misogynistic), Sin City (which includes cannibalism, castration-by-hand and a man eaten alive by a wolf, all locked in an adolescent mindset) and Run and Kill (in which a girl is immolated while her father watches). But at least those films (among others) understood the nature and effect of violence, and each knew exactly how far they had to go to get a certain reaction, whether it be intellectual or purely visceral. Exorcist: The Beginning doesn't know about the line. It pushes the gorehound button not because it's trying to thrill or excite or provoke but because it doesn't know what else to do. This single-minded dedication to revulsion above all else, even in scenes where it's not warranted (note, for instance, the overexcited blood F/X during the climactic clash between the British and the native) speaks to a deep sickness within the film's makers. Caught between making a film for thinkers and a film for gore fanatics, they got confused and started doling out random elements haphazardly (including, just for extra bad taste, some Holocaust flashbacks). The result is, to steal some words from El-P, "measurements tossed to nothing for no one, a wasted effort, a shrug." This is useless, hateful garbage. See it and feel a little bit worse about humanity.

Grade: F

Overlord (1975)

Offbeat WWII film, showing the Normandy landing as seen through the experience of a fresh-faced English grunt. The mix of story-related footage with stock war footage makes for an unusual (if not always successful) experience, and the main character's Everymanness makes not only likeable but a useful stand-in for us, giving the audience probably the closest thing to a subjective experience they're gonna get at this date (Saving Private Ryan was still twenty years off). Stunning downer of an ending, too.

Grade: B

The Yakuza Papers, Vol. 3: Proxy War (1973)

Apparently, somebody felt I'd enjoyed the previous films in this series too much. So they took the undoubtedly-riveting film that serves as the true Episode 3 and replaced it with a talky and stagnant film that basically serves as a two-hour setup for Episode 4. Remind me again why I don't generally care for yakuza films? Oh. That's right. Because generally they boil down to an overwealth of characters jabbering on about who needs to be killed, who shouldn't be killed, who's going to do the killing, why the killing can't be done now, what will happen as a result of the killing, etc. Shut up and shoot someone, goddammit.

Grade: C+

Night and the City (1950)

A slow boiler of a noir -- while it gets off to a rough start, the film slowly ratches up the tension until the climax, where the sweat on Richard Widmark's brow practically rolls off the screen. The whole fun in this is seeing how Widmark's small-time hustler can keep his wits about him even as his situation grows more dire, and to the film's credit it's willing to follow that line all the way down. (Widmark's last lines are clever in the extreme.) It's always tough to steal scenes away from the electric Widmark, but among the gallery of grotesques that comprise the supporting cast, Francis L. Sullivan holds his own as a sarcastic club owner who is more dangerous than he looks.

Grade: B+

The Night Porter (1974)

Jesus, this movie is silly. Any serious consideration of the themes this movie pays lip service to is choked to death by this film's overwhelming silliness. The actors, bless their hearts, play it as straight as possible. There's even a point where it looks like Dirk Bogarde might be able to sell this crud just by trying really hard. But nothing can escape the black hole that is the Nazi-encounter subplot. Thanks for the effort, Dirk. Now if you'll excuse me, I think I'd rather be watching Salo.

Grade: D+

Garden of the Dead (1974)

Mid-70s B-movie junk about a bunch of prisoners who turn into photophobic zombies after they die, thanks to their bizarre habit of sniffing formaldehyde. (I don't get it either.) You'd think a movie that ran only 59 minutes couldn't seem so long, but you'd be wrong then, wouldn't ya Sunshine? Then again, you'd also expect said movie to at least keep the vunerablities of its monsters straight. No go, sadly -- what kills one zombie barely bothers another. But the best way to rid oneself of misery is to share it, so here goes: This is another obscurity that presents itself as an essential entry in the Kent Beeson Crap Cinema Canon. This particular flick earns its essential nature by being way ahead of its time in one point -- if I am not mistaken, we have here the first recorded appearance of a species of cinematic monster typed Homo corpus haulassicus, better known as the Runnin' Zombie. The credo here, I guess, is if you can't be good at least be different.

Grade: C-

Close-Up (1990)

I'm not quite getting the fuss over this film. Maybe it's because it was one of the first Iranian films to fully indulge the quasi-documentary impulse that has since blown up large. It has some wonderful moments, yeah, but I find Kiarostami's examination of truth (in both life and cinema) to be so studied in its post-modernism that it smacks of preciousness. Still worth seeing, if only for the marvelous ending (though I wish Kiarostami hadn't been so devoted to "truth" that he decided not to fix a malfunctiong mike, thus ruining the scene's sound). But it's a curio, not a masterpiece. Calm down, people. (Note to Facets Multimedia: If you're not going to spring for decent DVD transfers and instead resort to the ten-year-old-video-rental-level prints that I've seen on The Decalogue, The Joke and now this film, then please get the fuck out of the DVD business.)

Grade: B-

Kung Fu Hustle (2005)

Oh God, this movie is so much fun. Everything that went wrong in Stephen Chow's previous Shaolin Soccer goes right here. The effects work is so exaggerated that it speaks to a strain of bonkers, knockabout surrealism within Chow's slapstick stylings. And grousing about the obvious plasticine cartoonishness of it all is missing the point -- unlike something like, say, The Matrix Reheated, it's supposed to be a cartoon. Chow's obvious inspiration is the Looney Tunes, with their affection for cheerful schemers and hustlers who will always triumph over violent-minded thuggery (though he does assimilate other influences into the giddy stew served up here, e.g. the spaghetti-Westernish confrontation with the two blind assassins). But Chow manages to take that idea and push it to its nth degree, to the point where the film achieves a state of Zen. Odd that a film so frantic would end on such a grace note, but there you go. It's fresh, fast, furious and fun. Somewhere, Chuck Jones is smiling.

Grade: A-

Downfall (2005)

I guess this was inevitable; being that Oliver Hirschbiegel's previous Das Experiment attempted to deal, however unsuccessfully, with the spectre of Nazism in modern-day Germany, it was only a matter of time before he got around to making a film about Hitler. Surprise, surprise: it's actually not that bad. Hirschbiegel doesn't show much in the way of a distinctive sensibility, but he does keep the film from getting bogged down in historical logorrhea. Bruno Ganz is good enough for government work as ol' Adolph, and the supporting cast is also not too bad. At its best, it's a riveting maelstrom of a period in which history didn't so much flow as it did splay in twenty directions at once, like a bug hitting a windshield. At other times, it's like the longest History Channel special ever made. So knock that grade up a couple of ticks if you dig the all-Hitler-all-the-time antics of that channel. Me, I'm still suffering WWII-documentary burnout.

Grade: B-

A Tale of Two Sisters (2004)

Sometimes the horror community confuses me. There's all that ink being spilled on mediocre timewasters like The Eye and Ju-On and all that, but nobody says boo about this freaky little fucker? What gives? This top-notch genre offering from Korea shares with its Japanese counterparts a tendency towards the non-linear and the ambiguous, but it's fashioned like a fairy tale gone very wrong. In telling a tale both grim and Grimm, director Ji-woon Kim (best known in America for the raucous wrestling comedy The Foul King) creates a delicate, careful film that nonetheless can snap your spine with shivers whenever it damn well pleases. The question remains: Is it a ghost story, or is it something else? (And whose ghost, for that matter?) Either way, it's a stunner. Best of all: no water imagery!

Grade: B+

National Treasure (2004)

So this movie is silly. Incredibly silly. But then, that's not really an issue. Any film that opens by linking the Knights Templar to the Masons to the Founding Fathers clearly isn't shooting for anything other than sheer ludicrousness. I can accept that a film would want to be this silly on purpose -- after all, I watch movies like Hookers in a Haunted House. What sticks in my craw is that this is not only staggeringly silly but staggeringly stupid, yet there's all that historical bromidery and "Jeopardy!" facts and Nicolas Cage being the most psychic man alive. It's like your parents telling you to eat your vegetables before you can have dessert, but then dessert comes (in the form of this film's wan action scenes) and it's something unexciting like Red Velvet Cake and then a news report comes on the television saying that vegetables really aren't good for you anyway. Lay off the history books, stupid people.

Grade: C-

Never Die Alone (2004)

This movie would be a force to be reckoned with if it had an actor in the lead role. It's certainly well-directed, and there's a queasy film-geek fascination in the progression of this particular story -- it's as if Citizen Kane and New Jack City were engaged in unlawful congress in front of a television playing Ministry's 'Just One Fix' video. All it needs to hold it together is a magnetic personality in the crucial role of King David... so who the fuck approved the casting of DMX? I respect the fact that he's trying to break into a new field, and I also respect that fact that he's trying to tackle something a little more ambitious than, say, All About the Benjamins. But the fact remains that DMX doesn't have the skills. He gets blown off the screen by Jennifer Sky here. Think about that: Ms. Sky is best known for playing the lead in the short-lived cheese-factor show "Cleopatra 2525", and her role in this film is maybe ten minutes long with no more than three lines of dialogue. And she still schools the ostensible star. Ouch.

Grade: C

Fireworks (1998)

How do you deal with adversity? Do you accept it, channel your negative feelings into something positive and move on? Or do you struggle and rage against the dying of the light? This stark work from Takeshi Kitano shows an example of each method; no points for guessing who still stands at film's end. It's a film both brutal and beautiful -- a heartbreaking human drama with brief bursts of violence punctuating the mood like a caesura in the middle of a haiku. One thing I don't find mentioned enough, though: this film's wholehearted indulgence of Kitano's dry sense of humor. At times, this is a very funny and sweet film. (Two words: "Crunchy chocolate!") But underneath it all is the undercurrent of grief. We all know where this will end, but what we've seen before getting there just makes it all the sadder. This film will stick with you.

Grade: A-

Horse Feathers (1932)

How I love the Marx Brothers! The vaudeville slapstick, the pun-happy wordplay, the sociopathic silent tomfoolery of Harpo, even the silly musical interludes... I love it all. This isn't quite on the level of Duck Soup or Monkey Business, but it's superior to Animal Crackers. What does that mean for you, dear reader? It means it's fucking funny. Undoubtedly you already knew that. What else can I tell you, other than this film may include Harpo's funniest material (the things he pulls out of his coat in this film...)? Go, go see it. You know you want to.

Grade: B+

Sunrise (1927)

Why is it that silent-movie melodrama seems so much easier to buy into than modern melodrama? I think it's related to the fact that everything in silent cinema is over-the-top and artificial by design, so the shameless emotional exaggeration of something like this (or Broken Blossoms, or The Last Laugh, or Backstairs, or...) doesn't set off the bullshit detector like, say, Message in a Bottle does. Curiously enough, what the logical mind will tell you is overbaked still feels natural within the mileu of the silent movie. At any rate, this film does have some big bad melodrama in it. But F.W. Murnau's virtuoso direction whups any flaws this film might have and makes the wild mood swings into just another part of his near-flawless tapestry of invention. To watch this is to watch Murnau, one of cinema's first and finest experimentalists, smashing cinematic walls every which way. By film's end, love has triumphed over temptation and the DNA of film technique has been irreversibly altered. What's not to love?

Grade: A-

Close Encounters of the Third Kind (1977)

When people talk about true science-fiction, this is the kind of thing they speak of: a work of art that not only deals with things beyond our world but possesses a genuine curiosity about them and the effect that could be had on humanity. The wide-eyed sense of wonder on display here is marvelous, yet the film's most impressive achievement is that it doesn't discount the obsession that fulfilling one's curiosity can entail. Also, it's one of the most spiritual films I think I've ever seen, with the aliens posing possibly as a stand-in for God, the ultimate unknowable. (Dreyfuss's fanaticism, in particular, can be easily read as conversion fervor.) The climax at Devil's Tower is one of the finest stretches of film I've seen yet. Remember when Spielberg made entertaining and unforgettable films that weren't choked with either bad-father subtext or rampant sappiness? That was awesome.

Grade: A

The Class Trip (1998)

Beautifully creepy study of childhood paranoia and the tension of approaching puberty, as experienced by a boy with what seems to be an overactive imagination. Sensitive performances are a plus, as is Claude Miller's controlled and taut direction (is this really the same guy who helmed the flabby Alias Betty?). The numerous dream sequences are expertly handled as well, including one so effective that I didn't realize it was a dream until it was over. A bit on-the-nose at times, but generally impressive.

Grade: B+

Ecstasy of the Angels (1972)

I hope that in twenty years, the political cinema of today will have aged better than much of the political cinema of the '70s. At least our ideas of political activism these days aren't inextricably (and inexplicably) linked to ideas of sexual freedom, leading to a myriad of films in which boring people have boring sex as they spout boring "revolutionary" rhetoric. This example of the sex-and-politics genre is easily one of the lamest that I've yet seen. Director Koji Wakamatsu has a big ol' Symbolism Stick to swing around, and he won't be content until he's bopped you over the head with it a whole lotta buncha times. The movie moves like molasses, and its obnoxious ciphers posing as characters fail to hold interest. (They could be discussing theoretical trigonometry for all I care.) The ending perks things up a bit, but even that is basically stolen from Zabriskie Point so Wakamatsu can still go fuck himself. Note to aspiring protest-happy filmmakers: Throw bombs or pitch woo, but don't do both.

Grade: D

Stander (2004)

Serviceable true-crime drama about a South African cop who turns into a bank robber, possibly in protest of the racist apartheid policies he is expected to uphold or possibly just because he enjoys the thrill of it. Thomas Jane turns in a fairly effective understated performance -- as in all of his better work, his natural tendency towards stoicism is tempered by a sneaky wit that keeps him from getting too wooden. The second act, which is consumed mostly with the heists and what made Stander so effective a heist man, is the most compelling part (the first act suffers from a bit too much telescoping in its setup of Stander's psychology, and the third act flags in its adherence to biopic conventions). Also starring: Thomas Jane's buttocks and occasionally his penis as well.

Grade: B-

Wicker Park (2004)

Hi, my name is Paul McGuigan. I have directed a movie called Wicker Park that I hope you will take the time to watch. It is about two very creepy people. The film watches these two creepy people as they try and navigate the straits of unrequited love. I do an interesting thing with this film. I make it look like it will be a thriller about these two creepy people and their unhealthy attachments but then I shift gears and make it into a love story after all. I think that this tactic is very clever even though the script does not really redeem either of the two creepy people nor does it attempt to reconcile them with the other normal people in their lives. I must admit that I do not think the script is very good but it is not my fault as I did not write it. My films usually have very good acting in them but this film does not although it is through no fault of my own. It is not my fault if Josh Hartnett is miscast as a creepy moping stalker who is supposed to be sympathetic, and it is not my fault if Diane Kruger exhibits all the talent of a potted fern, and it is not my fault if Rose Byrne overplays her character's creepiness so that the plot makes little sense unless you give Hartnett a lot of leeway (he is, after all, creepy himself). None of that is my fault because I recognize the limitations of my actors and the limitations of the script and thus I attempt to distract the audience with my exciting and stylish direction. I think that I have directed this film very well. I think this may be the best direction I have ever attempted. It is very stylish and restless. I use all the stylistic tricks in the book like wipes and dissolves and Dutch angles and flashbacks and I think I even use some split-screen. I think that my direction is very clever much like my attempts to make the script work. In no way do I think that I am overcompensating and neither do I think that such visual overkill will choke the life out of my film which by the way isn't very interesting as the lead character is creepy and underdeveloped and generally not likeable which makes the sappy happy ending seem cheap and forced. But then that is what the film critics will say and what do film critics know anyway. I think that you will enjoy my movie very much.

Grade: D+