Reviews

HOPE plays out an embarrassingly bad civil rights drama against the backdrop of some truly delightful southern eccentrics led by Christine Lahti as a bible toting and loving but imbalanced woman taking care of her stricken wheelchair bound sister and her sister's strong willed teenage daughter. The daughter, Lily Kate Burns, spends her time begging for dance scholarships that will get her out of town based on delusions about what she had learned from a former rockette who lives nearby. Her partner is a pixyish boy with dyed hair who's Mother gave him the last name of October because she didn't know who the Father was and that was the month he was born.

Both are intelligent kids bored by school and determined to get out of their burned out town. The film takes place during the Cuban missile crisis, with frequent school drills about bomb safety. As Lily notes, the Russians wouldn't think of bombing their town because it looks like it had already been destroyed. When she quizzes Billy about whether or not they are normal, he stares at her in surprise and asks: "Who wants to be normal?" Their teacher, who spends most of her time drunk when she isn't bedding the girl's uncle, tries to gently tell Lilly that she wasn't going to get any scholarship but it doesn't keep the kids from whooping it up or this film from being a lot of fun even with the heavy-handed racial story running in the background. This is a fun movie with a little meat on its bones in the way of interesting characters and situations with a good feel for the environment portrayed.

A sentimental tale about an elderly captain who wants to bring his grandson to sea with him, but refuses to compromise his duty to his ship and crew even though it costs him everything he loves. Lionel Barrymore plays Captain Bering Joy as a sometimes-foolish old man vying for his grandson's affection with his first mate. Dean Stockwell plays the grandson who loves the sea and his grandfather, but is failing academically. Richard Widmark plays the young first mate who has been assigned the onerous task of teaching the boy his schoolwork. The beauty of this film for me is the way it celebrates wisdom, courage, fairness, and honesty in life. In the end, it is the log of a person's life and actions that matter more than their ability to fit any prevailing standard of knowledge or trendiness. Barrymore's character is old, ignorant, autocratic, and uncompromising, but he is also an example worthy of respect that the grandson can value for the rest of his life if he is wise enough to do so.

A fascinating portrait of two obsessed careerists and their neglected loved ones in a world of high-stakes crime. Robert De Niro plays a brilliant thief and Al Pacino plays an equally clever detective out to track him down. Both men are highly principled and protective of their crew, but each is addicted to their chosen professions to the point that nothing is allowed to get in the way. Michael Mann delineates the alienation felt by the detective's family and the thief's girlfriend in scintillating dialogue and rich performances. The overall effect is haunting and stayed with me many hours after the film was over. Quite separate from the cops and robbers story, it reflects our modern age of success-at-all-costs and tallies the damage left behind in broken lives.

It is hard to judge the quality of a movie like this. Any comparison to later films is doomed at the start because the techniques and features are so different. I did not feel the acting was at all remarkable, but the total composition was quite moving. I appreciated Dreyer's blend of cynicism, faith, hope, anger, and pity in the performances of the judges. He showed Joan's piety more in their changing reactions to her than in Falconetti's performance. I could not imagine her leading troops in battle. The trial probably did take a lot of Joan's self-confidence away, but Falconetti's wide-eyed woebegone tentative Joan, doing her duty despite her fear, generated only pity and respect for her courage. Who would follow a person like that? Christ after his betrayal kept a commanding presence. It was almost as if Dreyer looked at all the martyr sculptures, created a consummate victim for his film play, and forgot about the real person who caused the controversy in the first place. Falconetti's Joan would fit in well with the Children's Crusade, but was no Deborah or Boudicca leading troops, or even the Joan who passed muster with the King's counselors before being sent off to battle.

The "Voices of Light" soundtrack and the composition as a whole worked beautifully together on the DVD as a fascinating work of art. The end result was like a Ken Burns special or a video catalog of images, giving a two-dimensional detailed look at a time and place. Is it the best Joan ever? Perhaps it is more authentic than some, but it has a clear emotional bias that makes it no different than any other well-made agenda-driven film. I purchased it rather than seeing "Messenger" because of the almost universal praise for the older film from critics reviewing Besson's version. I am not sorry that I bought the film but would not recommend it except to those interested in the craft of filmmaking or attuned to medieval music.

This glorious comic retelling of Little Red Riding Hood strips away polite society's version of morality and builds a robust alternative universe on the streets that is just as virtuous and a lot more demanding. Reese Witherspoon plays an illiterate state-raised teenager with a Ph.D. in street smarts. Her nemesis, Kiefer Sutherland, plays a university-educated pillar of society with a few hidden bad habits. Their lives intersect on the road to grandma's house and a no-holds-barred contest between two remorseless antagonists takes off from there.

Nothing is soft-pedaled in this film. Child abuse, vicious fights, and murder all take place in an environment where they appear commonplace. Every character is drawn with an eye towards basic humanity rather than good or bad. Vanessa Lutz knows the system as well as the folks running it. Anyone feeling smug or superior to her is usually in for a rude awakening. The only virtues lauded are that no one has a right to treat another badly without repercussions and that respectability is in the eye of the beholder.

The acting in this film is terrific. Both Reese Witherspoon and Kiefer Sutherland give insightful performances and the supporting performances are generally low-key and believable. The comedy is in the contrast between real life on the streets and the middle-class bureaucratic dreamland portrayed on the evening news. Witherspoon's Vanessa Lutz has a long juvenile record including theft arson prostitution and attempted murder, but comes across as openhearted and innocent. She had to use a lot of empathy and intelligence to make her character as interesting and as full-bodied as she was.

This film asks, and, to its credit, does not answer questions about madness, community responsibility, and the moral judgment of children as opposed to adults. It begins with a young girl packed up for a visit with her small-town grandparents by her urban Mother. Her grandfather's household includes his mentally ill son, his son's wife, and their son with whom the girl has a close relationship. Her uncle, is a quiet gentle man who can't handle the absurdities of life. He fixes watches for a living and embarrasses the family by his unorthodox/childish reactions to things that bother him. His son and niece idolize the purity of his world, his sensitivity, and his kindness. The resent his treatment by his wife, and the niece suspects his wife is having an affair with a neighbor.

Among the issues addressed are forcing a local Amish population to send their children to public school, the life of an embittered old woman who provides witch spells to the girl's young cousin, and the betrayal of confidence that destroys two relationships over the course of the film. No relief is given to adults or children in the way of clear answers other than the fragility of friendship and trust, and the imprecise definition of right and wrong in human affairs. This film was probably intended for a young adult audience, but it takes a deeper look into moral questions than most adult dramas I can remember and is one of the most thought-provoking community and family studies I have ever seen.

This is a pleasant little movie with excellent actresses that meanders around various crises and doesn't make a lot of sense. The book spent much more time covering Adele and Ann's struggles to make ends meet than the film did. You see the lights go out and hear that they have very little money, but do not really see many sacrifices in the film. Even the loss of electricity is explained as a forgotten bill rather than as an inability to pay. It is never clear how they make it when Adele is between jobs. The one-time sale of a prized possession doesn't come near to rectifying the financial obligations at the end of the picture. Why not allow Ann to earn money as a television actress as she did it the book rather than make her a grocery store employee who would be able to save very little? The one-night stand with Dr. Spritzer and Adele's unrealistic hopes about it do not make sense to me except in their desperate need for steady income. All the film allows is that Ann needed braces. How can you have Natalie Portman play Ann and expect anyone to buy that one?

The emotional traumas and the bond between Adele and Ann do work except in the end where it is hard to tell who is more devastated. At best they have a codependent relationship where Ann has at least as hard a time functioning without Adele as Adele does functioning without Ann. It is Adele who plays the unforgivable trump card of abandonment on occasion and risks her relationship with Ann by her life choices. Ann can't get 50 feet from her Mother without caving in. I found it hard buying that the Ann shown in the first two-thirds of the film really wanted what she got in the end. The most affecting performances for me were when they interacted with other people and when they comforted each other. The carpet salesman, the dam painter, Peter, and Benny added a little life to the picture. The whole scene in the restaurant where Adele finds the first workable apartment and Ann falls apart with the finality of it was beautifully played. The casting audition and the phone call to Ann's Father were heartbreaking as were Adele's fears of being shut out of Ann's life. Every time Ann and Adele made connections the film took off. The personality conflicts along the way felt like sitcom window-dressing.

The promos talked about how Ann was practical and Adele was irresponsible, but the film didn't show Ann taking care of anything that Adele missed. She groused about her Mother's lame attempts at levity when things were bad but never came up with better answers. The only thing Adele did that made me angry was her abandonment of Ann when she couldn't handle the criticism. Otherwise, the film gave her a full-blooded understandable existence. Ann, on the other hand, was a cipher. What did she want besides friends, escape from her Mother, and an understanding of why her Father left her? You never learn what makes her tick or what she possesses that draws Peter to her in the first place. I wish the film had enlivened her role with actions, thoughts, or desires separate from grousing about her Mother or laughing at Peter's lame jokes.

This horror story about a small group of elderly successful conscience-stricken men works on several levels. The horror builds slowly as you learn more about the reason for it until the enormity of the original crime equals or exceeds the ghostly revenge sought. Each man is a "good man;" all have led exemplary lives in their community. Their prominence broadens the impact of their ancient crime when compared to the superior abilities of the woman they wronged. Social position, strong minds and wills, and fear of humiliation all play important roles and have a life all their own in the story line.

The troubled young writer, son of one of the men, adds an additional conflict as he tries to find answers from his Father's friends. Neither side fully understands, or trusts the intelligence character and motives of the other, nor do they wish to surrender any aspect of their power or independence. The men tell him only what they think he needs to know, but they are trapped in their desire to see him survive them as a legacy. I enjoyed watching the closed-mouthed elders try to manipulate the incompetent son, while the son tries to pry information out of the obtuse old farts before all their lives collapse around them.

The best part of the film, for me at least, was the care taken to develop the character and intelligence of the original victim. She is shown as better by any measure than the men in the film. Unlike most horror films I can remember, she is not demonized because of her ghostly search for justice. Her cold fury seems justified, she gains revenge as much by confronting them with her horror as by any other method, and relief is available if they choose to seek it. There are many horror films with better special effects and a few with better scripts, but this is one of the most chilling evocations of a long dead victim crying out for justice that I ever remember seeing.

Westerns about the 19th and early 20th century are almost by definition American mythology, but one has the choice of a wide variety of sub-genres. Many are focused on the individuals protecting others from violence, another group centers on the brave pioneers or the abused Native-Americans, and most of the rest expand on a sensationalistic version of the West. Films in this last category include the "Lonesome Dove" series, all the Jesse James/Younger brothers/Billy the Kid/O.K. Corral epics and recent films like "Unforgiven." The common denominator in all these films is some extraordinary circumstance that forces one individual or group of individuals to stand out in some heroic way. The few exceptions are generally family films that tell about daily life and difficulties along the way, but find a way to make you feel good about the world when all is done.

"Bite the Bullet," "Monte Walsh," "Ulzana's Raid," and films like them tell a different story where animals and people suffer, people die for no good reason, and there are no heroes. The emphasis in these films is on telling a true story with all the mundane unpleasantness left intact. "Bite the Bullet" is not a feel-good film, but it does offer a realistic portrayal of an endurance race by choosing an assortment of standard western types and evaluating them through the eyes of one reluctant participant. I can't fault those who criticize the movie cliches in this film, because they are there and they are annoying, but I still admire this film for showing the race itself was a worthless and destructive enterprise for all the casual participants. Considering the support given cliché-driven movies like "Silverado" and sensationalistic extravaganzas like "Lonesome Dove," "Bite the Bullet," in my opinion, deserves a larger audience and a better overall IMDB rating than it has gotten.

Jennifer Jason Leigh plays a psychologically devastated young woman who has inherited an adult club from her recently deceased uncle. She initially remembers only his kindness to her, and wants nothing to do with his past business life. Her goal is to transform the closed building into a dance club and to try to make it on her own. She sets up housekeeping in her uncle's former living quarters, and pays a contractor to oversee the renovation. The film contains some graphic sexual content, but it adds to the horror rather than plays a purely exploitive role. The story is about the irreparable harm caused by abuse and it is a powerful celluloid indictment of sexual predators who leave few obvious physical scars on their victims.

The movie died a quick box office death. It was not designed for the fans of X-rated fun & games, and it was too dark and unsettling for most regular viewers looking for a pleasant night out. Leigh's character is the only role fully developed. Most of the other acting is B-movie quality at best and the dialogue is often wooden. Nonetheless, her performance and the story are good enough to carry the picture.

The story functions best as a psychological horror story and the cinematography contains some truly frightening visual images of things she sees or thinks she sees. These elements work well to underline her insecurity and instability. They also highlight her courage in trying to make it on her own in a world ready to accept that she is merely weak-minded and unable to cope. The script is not at the same level as that of "Spoorlos" or "Sixth Sense," but it is as good as many quality thrillers. There are very few pictures that deal with this subject area in more than an oblique way and rarely from the perspective of the abused. Give this movie a chance to work. Realism in cinema is hard to find, and this is an imperfect but realistic exploration of a difficult topic.

What a funny and poignant analysis of my narcissistic baby-boom generation this is. Not only are the portraits accurate, but, for the first time, I feel some sympathy for this current crop of teenagers as opposed to teenagers in general. Kevin Spacey and Annette Bening are excellent as the lead characters. Especially Bening, who managed to make her repulsively obsessive character interesting and three-dimensional. I actually felt sorry for her as her life crumbled. Kevin Spacey's character, on the other hand, left me cold. Perhaps if he had done something besides whine, leer, blackmail, and indulge himself, I would have felt better about his general kindness. His performance was engaging and believable, but other than retrieving the plate of asparagus, nothing he did made me want to root for him.

Chris Cooper did his usual outstanding job playing complex individuals with inner demons, but Wes Bentley was the standout in this film. His portrayal of an intense controlled teenager who found beauty in death and emptiness defined the film for me. It was nice to have Thora Birch, a first-class teenage actress, playing the sanest member of the cast. Birch and Bentley together made me care about the devastation wrought by their self-involved, if not catatonic, parents.

When I first left the theater, I thought the ending was too contrived and off-handed. Over time as I replayed the scenes in my mind, it made more sense to me. Each adult had been struggling so long to survive and to keep up appearances that they had forgotten why they bothered to do so. Somewhere they had lost whatever was of value in their lives. Now, like Ricky's dancing bag, they were all just twisting in the wind and dragging their children along with them until the wind stopped blowing.

This, for me, is a film about holiness, because it offers whatever we may have worthy of grace without excuses or embroidery of any kind. Set in Brazil, the central characters could have been from anywhere because they are fully human with all the frailties, uncertainties, and imperfect relationships that we all share. Fernanda Montenegro plays Dora, a train station vendor who writes letters for the illiterate poor in Rio de Janeiro. Dora is selfish, cynical, and contemptuous of her patrons. She takes all the letters she writes home with her, opens them and laughs about them with her best friend before discarding them. Montenegro gives an unembellished portrait of Dora, exalting her by telling the truth rather than by glamorizing any part of her life or actions. Dora comes to know and gradually care about Josué, the young son of one of her patrons, after his Mother is killed in a freak accident. Their personal and her emotional journey form the bulk of the picture.

The film shows the harsh things they say and do to each other in the course of finding their way to some resolution. One scene presents a festival of lights where thousands of pilgrims are praying for God's help. In the midst of this crowd, Dora has told the boy that he is worthless and a burden, and then tries to find him after he runs off. Neither is praying for help, but, in the stark cruelty and pettiness of their immediate past, they are nonetheless stripped bare of all pious defenses as are all petitioning before the judgment seat of God. Whatever we may be worth is calculated in the lives we touch and whatever of meaningful value we take with us in life is built on our relationships with others. "Central Station" divines this common holiness by depicting real people with nothing to fall back on but each other and the kindness of strangers.

After reading the comments from others describing this as just another road movie or yet another child in danger accompanied by an adult, I realized that most people were not finding the same things I did. The closest films to this, in my experience, are not the overtly sentimental films like "Gloria" or "Life is Beautiful," but films like "The Conversation" and the religious drama "Strange Cargo." "Central Station" does not play up the danger to and protection of Josué, but concentrates on the transformation of Dora. She does not have a heart of gold and her awakening to a new life is a human evolvement based on shared traumas, not a reward for altruism or heroism. Gene Hackman gave a similarly affecting performance in "The Conversation" as an isolated security expert whose basic humanity was imprisoned behind his paranoia. "Strange Cargo" followed a group of escaped convicts who in turn face or reject opportunities for redemption. All three films share a respect for basic human nature rather than trying to make them or us more than we are. The denouement need not be a "Christmas Carol" transformation, just a visceral recognition of what is at stake when the soul is forgotten.

Taking a page from Petronius, Tom Perrotta and Alexander Payne gleefully flaunt sexual and ethical taboos in a clever satire about modern behavior in the embattled halls of the American high school. Reese Witherspoon and Matthew Broderick collectively symbolize and deride ambition, civic leadership, and a carefully cultivated veneer of respectability. Mr. McAllister earned the love and support of his students and administration by always doing more than was expected, and by treating everyone fairly, but he was not a happy man. When he tries to grab a little piece of happiness by bending the rules, he finds that he is no match for the monster of social propriety that he fed and clothed for many years. You can play with it, you can set it to attack your enemies, but you cannot cheat it for very long without getting eaten alive by its rabid minions.

Watching McAllister fall apart as his nemesis prospers is excruciatingly funny. Matthew Broderick has a gift for playing clever but ordinary heros who react to rather than direct events around them, and his approach to this role is absolutely perfect. He is an appealing comic hero symbolizing the nebbish hiding in all of us. The slow pan over the woebegone visage of a museum caveman was the funniest sequence I can remember from any movie.

Reese Witherspoon's Tracy Flick was just the type person Charles De Gaulle warned about when he said to never get between a dog and a lamppost. She displays an amazing vibrancy in her performance. It isn't that she is merely intense; she almost glows with energy. There is no question that every molecule in her body is focussed on her life plan. No wonder she makes her amiable classmates uneasy. Witherspoon took a lot of risks with this character as the film is loaded with slow motion shots of unflattering facial expressions and exaggerated mannerisms. She deserves high praise for her gutsy straight performance of the queen bee of over-achievers.

There were no false or overplayed scenes in this film. The presentation was tightly controlled and the actors remained low-key, letting the script present the comedy. I did not expect to ever see a better high school satire than "Heathers," but "Election" was smarter without the bitter undertones of that film. A story like this renews my faith in humanity. The worst thing that could ever happen to our little crooked timber of human existence would be for it to look in the mirror and decide it was straight after all. Socrates is dead, long live Aristophanes!

This is a modern fantasy complete with twisted lives, nobility, endangered innocence, self-sacrifice, death, true love, and monstrous evil. If you look very closely, it all dissolves into an unholy mess as did the knight's tales it resembles. But, if you can forget reality and focus on the emotional appeal of the story, Luc Besson's drama rivals the best mythology can offer. It works because the values that help Mathilda and Léon to find redemption are as timeless as the fears that terrify them. Before the film ends, she has helped him care about life again, and he has given her a decent adult she can believe in.

Jean Reno plays a masterful, but childlike hitman who avoids all contact with anyone but his employer. His rules are simple, he will not kill women or kids, he does not get emotionally involved with others, he takes care of himself so that he can do his job, and he takes his responsibilities seriously. His knightly persona is complete with a disregard for money, profound humility, clean living, and a gentle spirit. Reno makes it all work well. Despite his off-handed disregard for human life, Léon is an extremely sympathetic hero.

Natalie Portman, however, steals the show with her portrayal of a willful preteen devastated by the loss of her brother and adrift in a sea of powerful emotions. Incapable or unwilling to face the consequences of her actions, she wants a final end to the turmoil inside her. Portman does an amazing job showing the vulnerable child wanting an adult end to her isolation. Good or bad, her innocence and reckless intensity make the movie work. That Léon sees what is at stake and in his incoherent way tries to keep her safe is the hallmark of his nobility and should speak to everyone who cares about the sanctity of trust.

The only downside to this picture was the stylized and unrealistic enemy. Gary Oldman is a wonderful actor, and the fact that his exaggerated rendition of a corrupt DEA agent comes across as believable is a testament to his skill. In general, his crew comes across as cartoonish at best. Some of the more outrageous scenes include a bad guy preparing himself to stab a mattress, and the horde of skimask-wearing ninja/swat team/jack-booted-thugs who show up near the end. The last time I saw such a ridiculous collection of enforcement personnel was in the "Blues Brothers."

The monstrous evil in this piece is the emotional purgatory that both Mathilda and Léon experience alone. Their journey to unexpected peace is unlike any story I have ever seen. Besson makes you care about the internal lives of his wounded couple by presenting the horror and nobility of their relationship with full intensity. Mathilda's wish to die or find love, Léon's near willingness to kill her or let her kill herself, and their mutual disregard for the killing of others is mind numbing but powerful. Given the context of an uncommunicative killer afraid of involvement, a reckless child, and a lifestyle based on violent confrontation, they have few chances to survive and prosper. The only things they have going for them are Léon's decency and Mathilda's complete faith in him. The fact that faith and decency are enough makes for a first-rate medieval story in modern dress.

The storyline had some interesting moments and the acting was generally good, but it was less scary than kitschy with the black cat and EMR and "something nasty in the woodshed" elements. The final scenes were a complete letdown. "The Haunting," "Ghost Story," and the psychological drama "The Vanishing" (Spoorlos) are in a different league entirely. It would have been better without the big machine and the pseudoscientific explanations.

Like a gallery of someone else's strong memories/obsessions, the luxurious images and painstaking movements attracted me with their clarity and disturbed me with their foreignness through the entire film. The undeniable beauty of his visual compositions pulled me in like any flawless performance. I felt no desire to visit his landmarks because they called to mind my own strong memories of similar grandeur. It did not matter that these were his choices. All that mattered was the complete realization of each spiritual personal epiphany. The dialogues, monologues, and mini-plays, on the other hand, disturbed me by adding layers of interpretation that either had to be accepted and incorporated into a less pleasant solipsistic whole, or separately analyzed and digested for their complexities in search of a grander vision. It was as if a famous artist began talking to you about the single meaning of each work of his as you observed them. Does he intend to deny you the pleasure of finding your own answers, or is he simply adding a new layer to enliven your own search for meaning? Accepting the latter explanation, has kept my mind busily turning for several days now.

Regardless of whether you accept Tarkovsky as philosophically profound or wise, his work is complex and open to multiple interpretations like a well-written haiku. Was Domenico deluded and tragicomic and the poet's torturous journey with the candle a sad joke? Are our memories of the past so intimately woven into our perceptions of ourselves that we cannot avoid irrational acts that imperil our future? Does strangeness or madness have a singular spiritual value all its own like an architectural ruin or a ravaged landscape? Do we take ourselves too seriously or have we over-developed our social, political, and scientific infrastructure to the extent that we are blind to the real world and threaten its existence? Are our poets and mystics spiritual resources or oversensitive fools, and does it matter? Perhaps Tarkovsky would disagree with every one of my questions. I am certain that others will have different questions and answers. However, for those that don't dismiss this film as self-indulgent and ponderous, Tarkovsky offers a rich composition that can support and survive several generations of critics and interpreters.

A more traditional episodic film with a clearly defined story line and a swift movement between scenes would have less to hide behind that a film like "Nostalghia," but there is no law that says a piece of art cannot be obscure. It comes down to a question of faith in the artist and whether it really matters how creative or insightful he was so long as you personally can find meaning in his work.

No one is better at pontificating while poking fun at themselves than the English, and if you enjoy that sort of thing, this movie is definitely worth watching. Along the way you get to sneer at wealth, poverty, capitalists, communists, the bourgeoisie and proletariat, business, respectability, advertising, poetry, bookstores and readers, hardy plants, loathsome but endearing friends, parasitic siblings, impatient lovers, and self-delusion. All of this comes with an intelligent script, quality acting, and personalities you've met before and would like to meet again. A gleeful romp for those who don't take themselves or their ambitions too seriously, who find sadistic humor distasteful, and who tire quickly of nude/bathroom/body fluid jokes.

"American History X" reminds me of the old Tom Lehrer song: "We are the folksong army, every one of us CARES, we all fight against social injustice, unlike the rest of you SQUARES." The people who see the film will walk out, if they are moved by it, fortified in their personal convictions that there are bad ways of thinking out there that need to be changed for the good of all, and then go back home to their self-satisfied lives. The main character has been made a tortured saint sanctified by his pure if confused mind, unflinching honesty, and brave heart. He is gently brought to the true path by two african-american angels, who have no lives of their own aside from their overwhelming desire to reach out and improve his life. They know the real score, inside and out, no question about their legitimacy. On the other side you have the african-american version of Daniel eager to win the approval of his peers, and the uniformly ugly and fraudulent skinhead opposition.

The real tragedy of this movie with cardboard villains, for me at least, was that most of the acting was first-rate and the scenes were beautifully filmed. The two Edwards brought tremendous depth to their performances. The violence was close in and personal, focusing your attention on the cost of hating. When the film focused on the family conversations/fights and Daniel's final paper, it felt honest and real. There have been several films recently, "Men With Guns" and "Savior" among others, that have similar messages without scripting a solution. Why did the film have to distill xenophobia and hatred down to a choice between enlightenment and ignorance when it has never been that simply resolved?

The story was beautiful and provoked deep emotions in many sections, but I felt that much of the talent was aimed at displaying the ordinary communication within the family rather than the love of music or whatever passion the main characters may have had for their chosen lives. I felt cheated in some respects because the music and jobs seemed more window-dressing that life choices. Seeing and hearing Giora Feldman was a surprise and a treat. I wish there had been more about the music or more about the parents and their internal lives.

Growing up as one of two physically challenged children in a loving home, I look forward to good movies about outcasts who are described as normal human beings. Not saints, or evil, or necessarily compensated by some genius, they are just ordinary people trying to work their way through their problems. I wanted to like "The Mighty" for an honest portrayal of misfits finding their way, but ended up resenting the noble extraordinary dying child as a new Hollywood archetype. I still gave the film a 9 out of 10, but hope the film industry can develop new stories that avoid this theme. "Passion Fish" and "Lorenzo's Oil" explored the challenge of coping for those who lost their physical well being, it shouldn't be that difficult to portray the mundane humanity of those who take their physical problems for granted. Every individual finds his or her own way to relate to the world. So long as films describe the physically challenged as "special" rather than merely human they are still classifying them as freaks/genies and failing to tell the simple truth.

Rushmore was more unsettling than funny, but it was honest, intelligent, and refreshing. I kept wondering what kind of a person an emotionally manipulative mendacious monomaniacal person like Max would grow up to be. Newt Gingrich? David Koresh? George Lucas? How about Tracy Flick from "Election" versus Max Fischer? The former exploiting people for a well-defined personal goal, the latter exploiting people to oppose her just to keep his name in lights, and the great clueless masses rolling their own dice for an unpredictable conclusion.

A feast day for character actors portraying cute and eccentric locals, but nothing to write home about. I kept thinking about how good "Whiskey Galore" was in comparison to this film. How long is it going to take before audiences get tired of the endless stream of "colorful" clever ancients with unbreakable spirits, the lyric spirits of the poor but honest young people, and the obligatory pub scenes?

A graphic depiction of cruelty and emotional detachment that may well depict elements of real life, but is not funny so much as it is unsettling. While there is no question that the director designed a powerful film, I missed the perspective or balance of emotional depth that is also a part of real life. The director's point of view seems as heartless and emotionally stunted as the characters he describes.

The recipe for this movie was written long ago, but Ephron's preparation and presentation made it enjoyable if not distinctive. I think Lubitsch would have liked it. She made it whimsical and frothy, with a little cynical garnish, laid out in an idyllic version of New York. It almost makes you want to live there. The Godfather/Pride-and-Prejudice business was annoying and the side relationships were unnecessary and distracting, but Jean Stapleton was enjoyable and the online/offline relationship between Hanks and Ryan worked well.