Reviews

Obviously heavily influenced by Meyer films, especially FASTER, PUSSYCAT! KILL! KILL!, this is one of the most accurate tribute films I've ever seen. The performances are especially on point, right down to the leading lady, a Tura Satana lookalike. The dialogue is hilarious, especially the "horse cock" bit and director John Ervin's memorable cameo. Definitely a film that would have benefited from a (slightly) bigger budget, but one I would love to see again.

ABBY SINGER is the best and most extraordinary film I saw during my week at the film festivals in Park City, Utah. Besides the fact that is an extremely well-acted, -shot and -edited film, the way it was made is an amazing, anomalous achievement. The film was shot for under $1,500 entirely on Canon XL-1 mini-DV, with no script, and it features 23 big-name celebrities including Brad Pitt, Robert Redford, Patricia Arquette, Jeff Goldblum, Jake Gyllenhaal, Jodie Foster, Roger Ebert, Don Cheadle and many more. Lead actors Clint Palmer and Ryan Williams, the latter of whom also directed, shot and edited the film, both turn in brilliant, fearless performances. The film, though entirely improvised, has great dialogue and an intriguing storyline. The cinematography and sound are great, especially taking into account the very limited budget for which the film was made. Thanks to the support of Pitt, Gyllenhaal and Ebert, the film may get widespread distribution soon. I encourage everyone to see it as soon as possible.

I remember the first time I saw the trailer for this film, at a midnight screening of THE MATRIX RELOADED (which, I must admit was far more disappointing). I happily took in the beautiful Japanese landscapes and Samurai action in the beginning of the trailer, then became disappointed, and even mildly outraged, at the appearance of Tom Cruise onscreen. Seeing the film tonight was much the same experience. I found myself really enjoying the first act of the film, then my enthusiasm kind of dropped off steadily from there on in. I guess it was because I already knew from the trailer where this portion of the film was leading, so predictability was no complaint. The sequence in which Cruise remorsefully ponders his so-called heroism is honestly moving. Also, I really liked Ken Watanabe as the Samurai leader. But the dialogue and denouement are too typically cliched and predictable, much like John Logan's most well-known screenplay, GLADIATOR, and the score is awful. The main problem with the film, though, is its triteness, trading heavy orchestral chords by Hans Zimmer for real emotional moments of magnitude, and nicely choreographed battle scenes for an original story. I mean, come on, this is basically just DANCES WITH WOLVES in Japan, complete with voice-over diary entries. Oh, and also not as good. Sure does look pretty though.

That's right, I don't like Elvis. For American icons, I'll take the three Jims (Dean, Hendrix and Morrison) any day. But another American icon I love is Bruce Campbell, star of the hilarious BUBBA HO-TEP, his best film since ARMY OF DARKNESS. Campbell exudes a disgusting but heroic charm at all times in this film, and his morose comments about his "pecker" should have anyone with a pulse in stitches. Ossie Davis is equally wonderful as the dyed and disguised JFK, who joins Elvis in the quest to defeat Bubba Ho-Tep, an ancient mummy who sucks human souls out anally in order to make himself stronger. Oh, how I revel in the sheer ridiculousness of this premise. And the beautiful thing about the film is that writer/director Don Coscarelli seems to revel in this ridiculousness as well, never letting the viewer know for sure how much of the story is "real" and how much is just the delusional fantasy of two old men, but also never patronizing his characters or undermining the seriousness of his ludicrous premise.

The atmosphere of the film is great, as are the supporting characters, but it is the great Bruce "Don't Call Me Ash" Campbell who makes this film shine. I would say Elvis is the part Campbell was born to play, but, c'mon --- we all know who that was.

The genius of Gus Van Sant's ELEPHANT is in its simplicity. We follow several different points of view throughout the film, but never really gain any deeper understanding of the tragedy at the heart of the film. Characterizations are simple and to the point; everything we learn about a majority of the characters is revealed completely through their mundane, everyday actions, their facial expressions the way they move. Of course, the film has it's subtle complexities as well, most notably the symbolism of the title, which refers to a drawing on the wall of the lead "gunman". Much has been made, also, of the film's constant motion, either through tracking shots or the movements of the characters themselves, and rightly so; this stylistic device adds greatly to the film's already apparent documentary feel. There is nothing in the way this film is shot or edited that lends itself more to any particular viewpoint than to any other. It is, in fact, more objective than many documentaries (for example, Michael Moore's BOWLING FOR COLUMBINE). This gives the film a cold but haunting aspect. Van Sant leaves the motivations of all the characters, including the two Columbine-inspired gunmen, to the interpretation of the viewer. The actions of these kids and their victims, as well as the repercussions of these actions, may well be the subject of lively debate whenever and wherever the film is shown in the future. I myself was particularly intrigued and confounded by the character of Benny, to whom we are introduced only very late in the film. There is a remarkably ambiguous quality to ELEPHANT; in the end, we know less about what has gone down at this fictional high school than our own preconceived notions would have had us believe.

Jon Favreau's ELF is one of those movies that the cynic in us wants to hate, but the child in us has the good sense to love. When it was over I wanted to clap, despite the fact that no one involved in the film would hear the applause, and I literally couldn't stop smiling throughout the entirety of the end credits. Yes, of course it's corny; it's about a man raised by Santa's elves. And, yes, it is rather predictable in that every character and plot nuance comes to its logical conclusion. Far-fetched? Obviously; it's about a man raised by Santa's elves! But ELF never pretends to be anything more or less than what it is: that most dreaded of cliches, a "feel-good" movie. Now, usually I am the first one to scorn corny, oversentimental art of any kind, and I have been known to (as Stephen King once phrased it) "blow my nose" on happy endings. Well, I went into ELF with a healthy dose of my usual cynicism, knowing only that anything involving Jon Favreau was, at least, sure to make me laugh once or twice. What can I say? ELF is funny, touching, and basically just fun in every possible way. Will Ferrel as Buddy: the perfect way for this great comic actor to become a star. In his first leading role, he carries this film like a plate of Christmas cookies. The ease with which he assumes the role makes you wonder if he really was raised by elves. James Caan is quite good as Buddy's human father, Ed Asner is the best Santa Claus ever put on film, and Bob Newhart is ... well, Bob Newhart, but the icing on the gingerbread cookie is Zooey Deschanel as Jovie, the cute-as-an-elf human with whom Buddy falls in love. There is a youthful, exuberant beauty about her that makes you forget how painful love can actually be, and this beauty extends to her excellent voice, a key factor in the film's third act. Her acting, of course, is not put to the most rigorous of tests in this film, but is certainly strong enough for the role she plays. ELF is one of the best Christmas movie to come out since TRAPPED IN PARADISE. Avoid THE HAUNTED MANSION, THE CAT IN THE HAT, and probably any of the other big "Kid's movies" this season (except maybe the new HARRY POTTER), and see this with your family instead. Or see it alone; I did, and enjoyed every minute.

What would you do if you met your soulmate after 25 years of marriage to someone else? What could you do? After a quarter of a century of commitment, including children, to one person, how do you even admit to yourself that you've just found your ideal companion, especially when that person is married as well? This is the dilemma with which Bob Harris (Bill Murray) finds himself faced in Sofia Coppola's LOST IN TRANSLATION. Oh, did I also mention he's stuck in a country whose language and culture he doesn't begin to understand? Murray's performance is excellent, his best work in years. The lines of age in his face and his subtle, toned-down gestures and expressions erase the Bill Murray we all thought we knew, leaving only Bob Harris. This is not to say that the role is humorless ---- far from it. But it is a deadpan, morose kind of humor, the humor of a man who makes another person smile to keep from crying himself. When Bob and Charlotte (Scarlett Johansen) meet and begin getting to know each other, they speak often of Bob's "mid-life crisis", but this is in no way the story of a middle-aged man's desperate, self-destructive infatuation with a much younger woman. This is the tender, unspoken romance of two beautiful misfits kept apart by self-defeating fidelities and the prejudices of time. What would have happened had Bob and Charlotte been the same age and unmarried when they met? Certainly something wonderful to experience but, in terms of the film, much less poignant and interesting to watch. It is the looks of longing between Bob and Charlotte, the aforementioned subtle gestures of Bob, that make this film such a sad and beautiful experience. It is the performances that immediately capture the viewer of this film, but never doubt that Sofia Coppola is a fine and wonderful filmmaker. She doesn't rely on any flashy camerawork or clever plot devices to tell her story, but don't be fooled by the film's minimalism; Coppola has written a profoundly beautiful script. The dialogue is sparse at times, but this only lends greater power to the words that are spoken. Murray has a line in this film that I may never forget: "The more you know who you are and what you want, the less you let things upset you." Simply put, but just ringing with universal truth and importance. LOST IN TRANSLATION is funny, sad, warm, irritating, fulfilling, thought-provoking, simple, tedious, surprising and beautiful, just like real life. I strongly recommend it to anyone who has ever felt alive or, more importantly, wanted to.

It's funny, but the most exciting, suspenseful film I've seen this year was not TERMINATOR 3, X2, THE MATRIX RELOADED or any of the other hot-shot summer action blockbusters; nor was it even CHAOS, DIRTY PRETTY THINGS or SWIMMING POOL, all taut independent thrillers, each very good in its own way. No, the most riveting, edge-of-your-seat movie I've seen thus far in 2003 is SPELLBOUND, a documentary about the National Spelling Bee. When I first heard of this film, I was flabbergasted. No! I thought, how dare they ruin another classic? I was, of course, misled by the title, thinking the film to be a remake of Alfred Hitchcock's 1945 film of the same name. Luckily, it is nothing of the sort; in fact, it's much better (let's face it, the only thing that sets SPELLBOUND above any other average Hitchcock film is Salvador Dali's brilliantly designed dream sequence). Once I realized my mistake, though, I was intrigued. I was always a good speller myself, and it seemed like fertile ground for a documentary, or perhaps for a Christopher Guest-style mockumentary; in fact, this is almost like BEST IN SHOW, but for real. Even Guest himself couldn't write characters this bizarre and funny, because they spring straight from real life: the father who prays for each word as his son advances in the finals, the mother who chats nonchalantly while the family dog licks her calf repeatedly for no apparent reason, the 11-year-old kid who can't yet pronounce the letter "r", but can spell words I've never heard of. All fascinating "characters" ---- all real. Equally hilarious and bizarre is the real-life situation-comedy in the film: each small town's tendency to congratulate their spelling bee competitors with horribly misspelled billboards, one boy's eagerness causing him to goof a word as easy as "mayonnaise" on the second letter. Many favorite is a little piece of irony that many probably overlooked: the fact that the final word in the competition perfectly describes on of its failed contestants (in fact, the one I found to be the least likable, partly because of this trait). The film has plenty of drama as well. You can see the pressure bearing down on some of these kids, and you feel for each one that is eliminated. No doubt, most viewers will pick a favorite and, quite possibly, be hurt when he or she loses. I experienced something like this myself with my "favorite" (but I'm not telling who), and I found myself spelling along with the kids, sometimes sure I was right and then being proved wrong by one of the sharp-witted little devils. But, hey, they studied for it, right? Maybe I'll enter next year.

CINEMANIA is a film for its subject matter: film geeks. I absolutely loved it, which tells you a little about me. This is a great film for anyone who's ever hopped a cab, bus or subway train in a mad frenzy to get from one movie to the next, for everyone who's ever made a list of all the films they've seen in a year just out of morbid curiosity as to how wisely they've spent their time, for anyone who's ever sacrificed a social event to see a movie alone. Yes, I've done all these things and more, but despite my identification with the weirdos that are the subject matter of CINEMANIA, even I was amazed at the absolute compulsion many of them have for cinema. One man is said to choose a carefully orchestrated "constipating diet" in order to avoid the inconvenience of missing the beginning of a film due to the necessity of bodily function; another places a personal ad in which he writes almost exclusively about film; the only woman among them, Roberta, has been known to physically fight ticket sellers at theatres that inconvenience her goal to save the ticket from every movie to which she's ever been. The astounding thing is how proud the cinemaniacs seem of their obsession and the utter lack of anything else in their lives. One film buff proclaims himself a "writer and philosopher", yet we never hear about him writing anything other than the aforementioned personal ad. Another has an extensive collection of movie soundtracks on vinyl, carefully arranged by composer, but doesn't own a record player. But this is not a mean-spirited, satirical film out to expose or poke fun at the "losers" and their passion for passive entertainment. As I have said, it is a film for those who identify with these so-called "losers", hopefully to a somewhat saner degree. Perhaps the most touching and important moment in the film is a scene in which one film buff (proponent of the constipating diet) discusses the escapist quality of film. "In a movie", he says (I'm paraphrasing) "you can just walk out of the restaurant and blend into the crowd, then walk across the street as if moving on into your new life, but in real life, you know, you have to go home; you can't put real life in a frame and make it art." But sometimes real life is art, sometimes it's better without the frame, and I'm happy to know that the tragic, comic and wonderful "characters" of this film are really out there, still passionate about this great art form, even to the point of insanity. Right on, brothers (and sister)!

Well, Kevin Costner has made his "comeback" with his favorite material: a rugged, haunted hero story containing a plethora of cliches. The man clearly loves the Western genre, apparently as formulaic and by the book as possible. Every hack genre moment imaginable is included in OPEN RANGE, though the roles of Robert Duvall and Costner are switched; here we have the younger man being the more experienced and combat-weary, but this hardly makes up for the stiff, wooden dialogue that borders on self-parody (but doesn't quite push itself over the edge, which would have been much more enjoyable). Much of this dialogue is so forced and cliched it seems to "stick in the craw" of even a great actor like Duvall, especially in the beginning of the film. The story (minimalist is a kind way to describe it), or rather the action, of the film does pick up a little steam as it moves along to the gun battle that is the only reason to sit through the incredible predictability leading up to it. In fact, this gun battle and Michael Gambon's excellent performance as the villainous landowner barely manage to raise this film above the level of Hollywood detritus. The shootout is the one place Costner manages to break away from the tedious traditions he embraces throughout the preceding 120 minutes; very little slow motion is used, and the strategy of the fight is realistic and original in many ways. The love story involving Costner and Annette Benning (as underused and uninteresting as most female characters in Westerns) is so much pointless detritus, leading to Costner's decision about the ending of the film: the predictable happy ending or the predictable sad ending? I won't "spoil" it, but, in my opinion, his choice was the greater of two evils.

David Cronenberg is (with the possible exception of David Lynch) the creepiest filmmaker alive. The best way I can describe this, my favorite of all his films, is: profoundly unsettling ---- last time I watched it, it literally made me lose sleep. Jeremy Irons stars as twin gynecologists Elliot and Beverly, whose personalities are as disparate as their physical appearances are alike; Elliot is smug and outgoing, while Beverly is sensitive and introverted. The genius of Irons's performance is that you can always tell which character is which, even when they're not talking, even when they're not together, simply by the subtleties of posture and gesture with which Irons infuses his characterizations. The twins share everything, from medical duties (my favorite line in the film: "I slave away over the hot snatches, and he writes the speeches") to women. One such woman is a movie star, played by Genevieve Bujold, whom Elliot seduces and with whom Beverly falls in love. When she goes away to film a movie, Beverly's mental state gradually begins to deteriorate, bringing Elliot into a downward spiral of drugs and madness along with him. Irons tweaks the emotional power of his performance as the twins slowly become more alike in their bizarre descent. Unlike most of Cronenberg's films (with the exceptions of his recent masterpieces, EXISTENZ and SPIDER), in which the horror is usually venereal in nature, this film disturbs and terrifies its viewer on a psychological level. There are some great Cronenberg visual images though, especially the highly disturbing dream sequence and Beverly's creepy Gynecological Instruments for Mutated Women. That phrase alone should tell you that this film is not for everyone, but anyone who appreciates the macabre and unusual should love this film as much as I do.

Pure fun from start to finish? More like pure boredom from start to finish. Cutesy, dull crap full of cheesy catch phrases and kids swearing because it's "funny". The only enjoyable thing in the entire movie is Chunk and his Truffle Shuffle.

It's funny; the two best films I've seen this year (sadly, CHAOS has only just made it to the Midwest United States in 2003), are both from France. Not only that, but none of the American films I've seen thus far even come close to this or Gaspar Noe's IRREVERSIBLE. Maybe we should rethink that stupid freedom fries thing and go seek out some real culture. CHAOS is a great film, a film that wastes no time. It starts with a bang when an Algerian prostitute named Noemie begs for a ride from Paul and his wife Helene as they drive by the scene of her merciless beating at the hands of three pimps. Paul locks the doors and, after the pimps have gone, leaving Noemie unconscious, gets out of the car only to wipe the windshield clean of the inconvenient blood Noemie has spilled upon it. A perfect opening to this film, showing the frailty of women at the hands of dominating men, and the inhumanity and selfishness of said men. As a human of the male persuasion myself, I was surprised to not feel any resentment toward the film's representation of manhood. It does not try to convince the viewer that all men are like this; just all the men in this film. At the same time, many men might feel uncomfortable at the incisiveness of the film's characterizations. At one point Helene says, "Not all men are bastards"; Noemie merely shrugs and smirks ever so slightly. It is more telling than a thousand words.

This film is the epitome of all that is great and wonderful in the horror genre. Peter Jackson's genius ---- also evidenced in his previous splatter films BAD TASTE and MEET THE FEEBLES ---- is that he makes true horror; this is a movie so incredibly sick and gruesome that it is actually more funny than it is scary or disturbing. Timothy Balme as Lionel seems like the kind of role that would have been played by Jeffrey Combs, had he been a New Zealand native. Lionel lives in constant servitude to his horrid mother (Elizabeth Moody, who was also brilliantly cast as one of the Sackville-Bagginses in Jackson's THE FELLOWSHIP OF THE RING, but cut out of the theatrical cut). I could ramble on about the greatness of this film ---- which includes zombie sex and parenting, face removal, animated intestines (that means they're moving, not cartoons), the ever-present and disturbing maternal metaphor, and the infamous lawnmower scene ---- but I don't want to ruin it for the poor, deprived souls who haven't seen it yet. Suffice to say that this is the goriest and best zombie movie ever made.

The concept is hilarious: little Timmy prays to Jesus to kill his mommy and daddy, which Jesus has no problem with ---- so long as little Timmy helps Him dispose of the bodies. The execution is impeccable; I especially love the scene with Jesus smoking a cigarette as he hacks up the bodies into more disposable pieces. An absolutely great short film; I hope I get a chance to see it again someday, as it was the best short I saw at Tromadance Film Festival 2002.

Words cannot describe the genius that is Stanley Kubrick's A CLOCKWORK ORANGE; it must be seen. In fact, it must be seen over and over again, and compared to Anthony Burgess's equally brilliant novel, and then seen a few more times for good measure. Malcolm McDowell is utterly impeccable as Alexander DeLarge (get it?), a name in keeping with the sly pun names of Kubrick's DOCTOR STRANGELOVE. For those of you who haven't seen it (shame on you), I will briefly explain the title, and no more; YOU MUST SEE THIS FILM!!!!!! A CLOCKWORK ORANGE, in the novel, is actually the title of a book being written by an old man whom Alex and his "droogies" ("that is Pete, Georgie and Dim") attack, beat and rob one night. The idea is that when a man loses his free will to the justice system, through punishment and so-called "rehabilitation", he becomes as a clockwork orange: flesh and the semblance of life on the outside, but all mechanical gears on the inside. That should give you some indication of what happens to Alex, but not too much. Remember, you're in the hands of a master filmmaker; the greatest who ever lived, in my opinion. The complexity of the symbolism, the beauty of the decor, the intricate three-act structure, the uniquely dark humor and comedically melodramatic pathos ---- there's simply no other film like it. Nor will there ever be. I consider 2001: A SPACE ODYSSEY to be the greatest achievement ever made in the cinema, but for sheer viewing pleasure, this is my favorite film. See it at all costs; then see it again.

DAS EXPERIMENT is to violence what THE BLAIR WITCH PROJECT was to fear; an examination so thorough that the viewer is actually caught up in the maelstrom, and has no choice but to hang on until the end. Based on a real-life experiment conducted at Stanford University in the 1970s, the film studies the ease with which violent situations erupt in a realistic simulated prison setting, even when both the "inmates" and "guards" are just regular guys with no criminal background. The "prisoners" are locked down 24 hours a day and told to obey the orders of the "guards", who are allowed to leave when their shifts are over. Both are admonished not to use violence, at the risk of being expelled from the experiment without pay. Director Oliver Hirschbiegel paces this film perfectly; as each day passes and tensions grow, we find ourselves sympathizing more and more with the prisoners. This is not to say that the guards are strictly portrayed as heartless monsters. In fact, the brilliance of the film is how little difference exists between the two; a case could be made that for each prisoner, there is a guard with a matching personality, and vice versa. It is only when they taste arbitrary power that the guards begin to become corrupt and malicious, and the ones who have not, themselves, become vindictive and cruel are just swept along by the opinions of the guard with the loudest voice. It is as if the institution actually brings out the freedom to express their most primitive feelings. I would highly recommend this film to anyone with a taste for harsh, realistic filmmaking; the script, performances and visual style are all impeccable. Also, it was nice to finally see a prison movie in which the nudity wasn't exclusively male.

THE BLAIR WITCH PROJECT is all about effect. It's the kind of movie best enjoyed on the first viewing, like THE RING or MEMENTO; analyze it to heavily and you ruin some of the thrills. The concept of a completely staged documentary is, of course, not new. The best example, and the one that BLAIR WITCH most resembles, is an excellent French film called MAN BITES DOG; the latter is a much better film, but BLAIR WITCH pulls off its premise more realistically than any other "mockumentary" I've ever seen. Talented but completely unknown actors man the cameras and much of the sound effects throughout the film, while simultaneously remaining in character enough to improvise as each new terror is presented to them. Of course, they knew it was all staged, but the verisimilitude achieved in the film cannot be denied. Shooting in "real time" and actually depriving the actors of food and rest, as well as scripted lines and any cognizance of plot direction, it is easy to see how writer/directors Daniel Myrick and Eduardo Sanchez managed to perpetrate this ingenious hoax to the point where audiences were actually terrified. This is a very realistic, ominous and visceral film.

FAR FROM HEAVEN is just like any classic Douglas Sirk film from the '50s (see LEAVE HER TO HEAVEN), but better, because the viewer is not asked to feel emotional connection with characters who, we all know, just never existed. That is not to say that FAR FROM HEAVEN writer/director Todd Haynes doesn't initially present his characters in much the same way; that's part of the fun. It is only midway through the film that we begin to see that these people do have real emotions, inner conflicts and complexity that they hide behind a sophisticated veneer of casual racism and vapid gossip. Dennis Quaid (never one of my favorite actors) delivers a powerful, convincing performance, and Dennis Haysbert has created the most likeable character in the film, due to the charm he exudes from his first scene on. But, of course, the real masterpiece at work is Julianne Moore's performance; she has never been finer. This is not to undermine Haynes's direction; without his brilliantly constructed, Technicolor-style pastels and tongue-in-cheek homages to classic films (my favorite being the obvious nod to IT'S A WONDERFUL LIFE), the film would lose much of its credibility.

FEARDOTCOM is a sad example of what I call "the HOLLOW MAN syndrome" -- a film with an interesting premise, a talented cast and some beautifully realized visual effects, that ultimately becomes a mind-numbing piece of flotsam, weighted down with cliches, plot holes and pointlessness. It's sort of like a big, shiny car with no engine; it looks nice, but doesn't go anywhere. Maybe the problem with the film is that the premise is never explained by a better source than a drunk in a bar (seriously), or that it wastes so many talented cast members, including Stephen Dorff, Natasha McElhone and the great Stephen Rea, with it's incredibly inane dialogue and baffling scene transitions. Or maybe it's the fact that it's a horror movie with JEFFREY COMBS!!! (if you don't know who that is, you deserve this movie), and he's not in a starring role. But I think the main problem is that it's just a big tease; everything that portents terror turns out to be merely boring. The only scary thing about this movie is that someone, somewhere, might have enjoyed it.

There really isn't much to say about this, the most "successful" independent film of all time. There is no real conflict in the film, the characters are uninspired stereotypes; the only recommendation anyone can honestly give is that it's "cute". Some have told me that it is a realistic portrayal of Greeks in America; I think Greeks should be insulted by this. Am I to believe that this is the same culture that produced the foundations of all philosophy, as well as some of the greatest mythology and art of all time (not to mention Nikos Kazantzakis, author of ZORBA THE GREEK and THE LAST TEMPTATION OF CHRIST)? The fact that all of the film's so-called "humor" is derived from the cultural differences of the Greeks does not make the film realistic or in any way charming. It is, instead, a testament to the stupid complacency of American culture that we saw this movie (many of us more than once), while we let great films like HUMAN NATURE, DAS EXPERIMENT and THE GREY ZONE go relatively unnoticed.

My only complaint about Tengiz Abuladze's REPENTANCE (English title) is that I am uncertain what was real and what was fantasy. However, since this was undoubtedly his intention, I cannot properly call it a complaint. Outside of David Lynch films, I have never seen more perfectly executed dream imagery than that of REPENTANCE; the beauty of these sequences is accentuated by the surreal atmosphere of the various dreamers' waking lives. The cast is uniformly excellent, the premise unique, and much of the dialogue resonates with beauty, despair and universal truth, often mingled with humor. No character is utterly devoid of sympathy, nor is any character entirely sympathetic. All is ambiguous, just as it is in our own so-called "reality".

Note to Adam Sandler and the makers of MR. DEEDS: when your remake of a film from the 1930s is not as fresh or funny as the original still is today, it might not be a good project. This was, with the possible exception of MY BIG FAT GREEK WEDDING, the most unfunny "comedy" I saw in the year 2002. Everything that was even mildly amusing was directly lifted from Frank Capra's original, but the moral center of that film was stupidly changed to suit Sandler's questionable style of comedy. It's not that the man hasn't made me laugh in the past (I enjoyed BILLY MADISON and HAPPY GILMORE), but this movie is more reminiscent of THE WATERBOY; it tries too hard and fails miserably. The really puzzling thing about the film is why Winona Ryder, John Turturro, Peter Gallagher, Steve Buscemi and Jared Harris would waste their considerable talents in such a pointless, unworthy film. For viewers who want a modern film in the style of old screwball comedies, I humbly recommend the Coens' THE HUDSUCKER PROXY. Don't waste your time on MR. DEEDS.

This might not sound like a recommendation, but when you consider the film's subject matter, "painful" is actually a good word to describe THE GREY ZONE's brilliance. Director Tim Blake Nelson has crafted a fascinating portrayal of the Sonderkomando, Jewish concentration-camp prisoners who help the Nazis in order to ensure for themselves a few extra months of life, as well as creature comforts denied to the other prisoners. The script and cast are equally effective. David Arquette proves himself to be not merely the idiot bastard son of the Arquette family with a powerful performance; Harvey Kietel and Steve Buscemi are brilliant as always. The film's real strength, making it the greatest Holocaust film I've ever seen, is its relevance; we may think ourselves to noble to sell out our brethren to save our own lives, but we would certainly reconsider if actually faced with this choice. In the end, Nelson brilliantly implies that perhaps the nightmare world of the Sonderkomando is really not so different from our own workaday reality.