film

Film listings are edited by Cheryl Eddy. Reviewers are Robert Avila, Meryl Cohen, David Fear, Dina Gachman, Susan Gerhard, Dennis Harvey, Johnny Ray Huston, Patrick Macias, and Chuck Stephens. See Rep Clock and Movie Clock, for theater information.

Asian Film Festival

The Four Star Theatre's seventh annual Asian Film Festival runs Aug 7-28. Venue is the Four Star Theatre, 2200 Clement, S.F. For ticket info and a full schedule, go to www.hkinsf.com. For commentary see last week's Bay Guardian. All times p.m.

Wed/13

The Marigolds 12:30. 25 Kids and One Dad 2:45. What's with Love 4:50. Killer Tattoo 7:15. Vengeance for Sale 9:30.

Thurs/14

Burning of the Imperial Palace 12:30. Reign Behind the Curtain 2:40. Love for All Seasons 4:50. Pistol Opera 7. Killer Tattoo 9:15.

Fri/15

I Love You noon. Vengeance for Sale 2:05. What's with Love 4. Map of Sex and Love 6:20. Touch of Zen 9:05.

Sat/16

Kwan Riam: Legend of Love 12:15. Dang Bailey's and Young Gangsters 3:15. Fists of Fury 5:40. Sorrow of Brooke Steppe 7:50. Flying Dragon, Leaping Tiger 9:35.

Sun/17

Lover's Grief over Yellow River 12:30. Kwan Riam: Legend of Love 2:40. Golden Key 5:40. Whispering Sands 7:40. Double Agent 9:45.

Mon/18

Map of Sex and Love 12:15. Versus 3. Ichi the Killer 5:25. Golden Key 7:40. Eliana, Eliana 9:35.

Tues/19

Whispering Sands 12:15. Eliana, Eliana 2:25. Kwan Riam: Legend of Love 4:15. Double Agent 7:15. Ichi the Killer 9:35.

Opening

*The Cuckoo See Critic's Choice. (1:44) Opera Plaza, Shattuck.

Freddy vs. Jason Are you ready to rumble? (1:32) Century Plaza, Century 20, Jack London.

Grind A trio of recent high school grads pursue their pro skateboarding dreams. (1:40) Century Plaza, Century 20, Jack London.

*OT: Our Town See "Show Times," page 63. (1:16) Roxie.

Open Range Director-star Kevin Costner attempts a comeback with this cowboys good, ranchers bad tale. (2:20) California, Century Plaza, Century 20, Grand Lake.

Passionada A single mother and her teen daughter have different reactions to a handsome gambler who arrives in their small New England town. (1:45) Century 20.

The Princess Blade This potentially gratifying mix of martial arts, science fiction, and political intrigue betrays its pulp origins by succumbing to some disastrously trendy dramatic tropes. Set in a future where North Korea has taken over Japan, and where members of the emperor's private guard have become paid assassins, the film follows the trials of warrior Yuki (famed swimsuit model Yumiko Shaku) as she struggles to learn the truth behind her mother's murder – along with her own true identity – in time to do some carin' and sharin' with a dreamy revolutionary dude. Director Shinsuke Sato is every bit the neophyte: Instead of exploring the topical sci-fi of his manga-inspired premise, Sato focuses on soap opera-style characters played by actors incapable of supplying more than a single dimension apiece. The film's saving grace might have been its well-staged action sequences, choreographed by Donnie Yen (who performed similar duties for Iron Monkey and Blade II). But as any casual kung fu viewer could tell you, three good fight scenes do not make a good movie. (1:33) Galaxy. (Macias)

Step into Liquid There's nothing more photogenic than bronzed surfers cutting through sun-dappled waves – and yet there are few things as hard to capture on-screen as the exhilarating rush that makes surfing so addictive and so popular. This paradox has dogged surf-umentaries since their first dip into the cinematic pool, and it's something that Step into Liquid seems to know it can't outpaddle. So filmmaker and pedigreed surf aficionado Dana "Son of Bruce" Brown bypasses capturing lightning in a bottle, concentrating instead on fashioning a cinematic Surf Culture for Dummies that's less an Endless Summer than endless summaries of facts on the modern-day wave-rider lifestyle. The MTV-friendly aesthetics and moondoggy narration (warbly voiced philosophy about harmony, nature, etc.) are a poor substitute for actual adrenaline, however, and even with some gorgeous visuals, it still feels like a simplified tourist version of a second-hand high. (1:28) Embarcadero, Shattuck. (Fear)

Uptown Girls Molly Gunn (Brittany Murphy) is the coquettish daughter of a late rock legend. When her inheritance is swindled, Molly is forced to get a job as a nanny to an eerily mature eight-year-old (Dakota Fanning), whose mother is a neglectful record exec (Heather Locklear). The precocious tot is a lot savvier than any real-life third grader on the face of the planet, and the plot never grows beyond predictability: the child must learn to relish her youth, while the adult must ripen into maturity, etc. That said, Uptown Girls isn't as terrible as I expected it to be. My groans were often followed by begrudging chuckles, enabling intermittent suspension of disbelief. (1:33) Century Plaza, Century 20, Jack London. (Pham)

Ongoing

Ali Zaoua: Prince of the Streets Twelve-year-old street urchin Ali (Abdelhak Zhayra) dreams of sailing far away from the dingy alleyways of Morocco where he struggles to survive. A chance at a brighter future for our hero ends abruptly with a single tossed stone, however, leaving a trio of his friends with the task of burying Ali while avoiding the wrath of Fagin-like father figure Dib (Said Taghmaoui), the city's criminal underworld kingpin. Imported tales of tough tykes and lost innocence are a neorealistic dime a dozen, but writer-director Nabil Ayouch's stripped-down approach to the Dickensian material emphasizes a certain flintiness in the familiar narrative. Even with the requisite shots of dew-eyed children and benign guardians on the periphery, the meat of the film rests less on selling manipulative dross or lecturing than on detailing a sordid world where kindness is a commodity and the streets seem cruelly unforgiving. (1:30) Roxie. (Fear)

American Wedding The American Pie films distinguished themselves from the teen flick pack thanks to a recipe of wistful sentimentality and gross-out gags. The third film in the franchise, in which hapless Jim (Jason Biggs) is preparing to marry his flute-playing girlfriend, Michelle (Alison Hannigan), keeps the sap and semen-joke mixture of the first two, then dilutes it to the point of sogginess. Most of the old gang – chiefly, the obnoxious Stifler (Seann William Scott), the urbane Finch (Eddie Kaye Thomas), and Jim's well-meaning dad (Eugene Levy) – return for another helping, but with few envelopes left to push, the series' patented comedy of humiliation feels a bit stale by now; even the scatology and cock jokes come off as half-hearted. There's little that director-famous troubadour offspring Jesse Dylan (How High) adds to distinguish this last chapter, either, content to simply reheat once-tasty leftovers ad nauseam until they burn to an inedible crisp. (1:36) Century Plaza, Century 20, Kabuki, Metreon, 1000 Van Ness, Shattuck. (Fear)

L'auberge espagnole A sheltered French youth (Romain Duris) heeds the advice to "go southwest, young man" and becomes an economics exchange student in Barcelona. He ends up in an apartment with six other twentysomething Euro-expatriates and steps into a whole new world of liberating drinking, loving, and touchy-feely dorm room epiphanies. Director Cédric Klapisch (When the Cat's Away...) peppers this Candide-lite comedy with so much postcard photography and "This was the semester that changed my life" narration that any bigger picture musings are buried underneath a cringe-worthy sense of schmaltz. There's a certain naive undergrad charm in the film's view of pan-Europeanism as nothing more than a hostel takeover, where nations of all stripes would get along if they all just chilled out, smoked a doob, and sang along to Bob Marley. After two hours of clichéd soul-searching amongst the college sophomore set, however, the movie's title (slang for "euro pudding") takes the culinary metaphor to the extreme: It goes from slightly delectable to a little too sweet, far too sticky, and hardly worthy of being considered a full meal. (1:56) Balboa, Galaxy. (Fear)

Bad Boys II Recipe for Tasteless Blockbuster Casserole: Defrost and reheat congealed main ingredients of Bad Boys, that 1995 action-comedy about two trash-talkin' maverick Miami cops (Will Smith, Martin Lawrence) who refuse to "play by the rules" and have a knack for breaking into allegedly charming shtick, etc. Add creative brain trust of über-producer Jerry Bruckheimer and director-cinematic Antichrist Michael Bay to insure maximum lowest-common-denominator pandering and plague-of-frogs subtlety. Stir in enough story material for six films; be sure to include romantic interest (Gabrielle Union) in peril, lethal batches of ecstasy, stereotypical villains and over-the-top crime lord (Jordi Mollà, who should be paying Gary Oldman royalties). Spice liberally with gratuitously brutal violence and crass homophobic, racial gags to mask lack of flavor, wit, edge, or basic entertainment value. Cook for an inexplicable two and a half hours. Let simmer; serves millions (excluding critics and those who possess frontal lobes or love movies). Laugh all the way to bank, then scrape burnt mess off bottom of pan into garbage bin. (2:25) Century 20, Jack London, Kabuki, Metreon, 1000 Van Ness. (Fear)

*Bend It like Beckham With a witty screenplay, feel-good story, and kick-ass soundtrack, Gurinder Chadha's Bend It like Beckham (named, by the way, for the soccer star who's also known as Mr. Posh Spice) has already broken box-office records in the U.K. and arrives in the United States with a worldwide $50 million gross already under its belt. Jess, Beckham's protagonist, is a reluctant challenger who's driven by her passion for soccer to deviate from the expectations of her old-world family. Beckham pointedly punctures English, Indian, and immigrant foibles despite a few jokes that are broad enough to hit the side of a barn. But its pseudo-lesbian subplot is unlikely to ruffle viewers of any lifestyle. More satisfyingly, the film's climactic wedding scene erupts into high drama with mistaken-identity mischief delicious enough to ensure it won't be mistaken for Monsoon Wedding. (1:42) Balboa, Galaxy, Shattuck. (B. Ruby Rich)

*Buffalo Soldiers War may be hell, but "peace is fucking boring." In Gregor Jordan's Buffalo Soldiers, enterprising young army "supply specialist" Ray Elwood (Joaquin Phoenix) combats the ennui of East Germany circa '89 by selling everything from pilfered Mop 'n' Glo to kitchen-sink heroin. Elwood's dim-witted superior (Ed Harris) seems oblivious to the free-market enterprise so diligently practiced on his base, ensuring our Bilko-esque hero plenty of time to count his money and screw his boss's wife. That is, until a hard-ass new commanding officer (Scott Glenn) with a shark's grin and a nubile teenage daughter (Anna Paquin) shows up, just as Elwood's brand of laissez-faire capitalism accidentally starts extending to stolen munitions. The movie's portrayal of an American military composed of psychotics, idiots, and thieves is certainly a welcome antidote to the rah-rahs, although one can't help but wish the satire was a tone blacker. (1:38) Oaks, Presidio. (Fear)

*Bugs! A distant cousin to the fine-tuned bug ballet of Microcosmos, the IMAX Bugs! – in thrillingly unsubtle 3-D – finds a more Hollywood-style drama in the kingdom of small critters, focusing on the life span of a green mantis nicknamed by his Latin proper name, Hierodula, and the charming Great Mormon butterfly, Papilio. Their parallel lives of eating, shedding, and transforming amount to character development that pays off when adulthood makes them natural enemies (one is the predator of the other). But this children's film has climaxes of all types – even a mantis sex scene so racy the producers conclude it with a leaf screen. The film, narrated by Judi Dench and running through musical styles like an Olympic gymnast going for gold, is presented without irony by Terminix. (:40) Metreon IMAX. (Gerhard)

Camp Camp takes us through a season at Camp Ovation, where all of the most talented drama geeks disappear to each summer, in case anyone was wondering. Michael arrives fresh from getting bashed at his high school prom for showing up in drag. Vlad fights hard to dispel golden-boy impressions (but nonetheless looks and sings like the missing sixth Backstreet Boy) and is somehow, mysteriously straight. Ellen, slightly insecure and friend to all of the fags at Camp Ovation, is glad to hear it. They and the rest of the drama gang eat, drink, and sleep tap routines, Shakespearean monologues, and show tunes, show tunes, show tunes, producing a new play at the grueling rate of every two weeks. While there are some seriously After-School Special moments, it's a sweet film with some good performances and a couple of plot lines it's a pleasure to think a small portion of teenage America may experience. (1:54) Embarcadero, Piedmont, Shattuck. (Lynn Rapoport)

*Capturing the Friedmans Pegged as the lurid must-see of this year's Sundance Film Festival, Andrew Jarecki's documentary is definitely a fly in the ointment of any belief that documentary cinema (let alone legal process) necessarily equals truth. This movie leaves so many unpleasant questions unanswered you'll be positively itchy with the sense of being soiled-by-association. Tipped by postal inspectors, police raided the home of one Arnold Friedman, a well-liked schoolteacher and father of three teenage sons. They found stores of "kiddie porn" (or at least teen porn); this led to interviews with students in Mr. Friedman's after-school computer classes, held in the family's basement. The stories that emerged described horrific, sometimes quite literally beyond-belief sexual abuse of boys by both Friedman and youngest son Jesse. Were the purported victims' testimonies influenced and inflamed by the zealousness of investigators, not to mention the wildfire outrage that ran through local parents? (Some class attendees still insist nothing happened at all, but their voices were overwhelmed during the resulting media and prosecutorial onslaught.) What's perhaps most disturbing about this one-of-a-kind document is that hysteria becomes indistinguishable from truth, even (or especially) among the Friedmans themselves – a family that recorded itself endlessly via home videos (amply excerpted here), to a remarkable and unflattering degree. Watching them tear themselves apart under pressure – with self-appointed mother-of-all-martyrs Elaine quite possibly inflicting more damage than press, community, law, and still-questionable sex crimes combined – is an experience you won't soon forget. (1:47) Four Star. (Harvey)

Charlie's Angels: Full Throttle Cameron Diaz, Drew Barrymore, and Lucy Liu return, this time involved in reclaiming missing Witness Protection Program rosters. Major impediments are Justin Theroux as Barrymore's satanic ex-boyfriend, and Demi Moore (who's not on-screen that much, despite the impression given by the ads) as a former angel gone bad. The first Angels, also directed by McG, raised the discourse level of megamall franchise flicks by more than a few notches: it was funny, spectacular, knowingly ridiculous, and ironic in all the right ways. This sequel falls into that shrug-inducing cinematic category known as Just More of the Same. Which ain't a bad thing necessarily, though the freshness is definitely edging toward day-old-doughnut here. The action sequences are now so far outside the realm of physical possibility that they're just silly – a dirt biking set piece is one iota short of simply being fully animated. There are so many cameos (Bruce Willis, Jaclyn Smith, Pink, the Olsen twins, etc.) that some more desirable talents with actual roles – notably Crispin Glover – get scarcely more screen time. Bernie Mac is a poor substitute for Bill Murray's inspirational weirdness as the new Bosley, while Moore's stony posturing is the worst piece of overhyped, overpaid celebrity supervillain casting since Schwarzenegger as Mr. Freeze in Batman and Robin. Despite these flaws, there's enough color, kitsch, and miscellaneous swirling motion to warrant giving Full Throttle OK marks as a fun if immediately forgettable way to spend $9.50. (1:45) 1000 Van Ness. (Harvey)

*Dirty Pretty Things Stephen Frears (Dangerous Liaisons, The Grifters, High Fidelity) has returned over and over to smaller British projects between Hollywood assignments, notably two Roddy Doyle adaptations (The Snapper, The Van). Dirty Pretty Things is by a newish writer, Steve Knight, and in its tonally very different way it's almost as fresh a take on polyglot London as My Beautiful Laundrette. Things revolves around Okwe (Chiwetel Ejiofor), a Nigerian doctor-exile living a hand-to-mouth life in the U.K. He's illegally working as a cab driver and a night clerk at a boutique hotel run by pragmatically slimy Juan (Sergi Lopez). Likewise employed at the hotel as housekeeping staff is Muslim Turkish Senay (Audrey Tautou), a registered refugee awaiting governmental approval of her immigrant status. Before long, Okwe discovers that the hotel profits from on-site organ harvesting that preys on desperate illegal immigrants. Knight's script doesn't always smooth together its various mystery, suspense, caper, and slice-of-life elements. The dialogue is sometimes too pontificating, and the incipient romance between Okwe and Senay is perhaps the least effective aspect here. But Frears handles it all so beautifully that the end result is still near extraordinary. (1:49) Bridge, California. (Harvey)

*Le Divorce Left by her trustafarian mate, pregnant poet Roxy (Naomi Watts) is visited in Paris by her hungry-for-experience sis Isabel (Kate Hudson), who soon realizes she's clearly not in Santa Barbara anymore. With the help of her sibling and an expat writer (Glenn Close), Isabel cracks the French cultural code embedded in everything from cocktails to fashion, and together the sisters take in the drawing rooms, haute cuisine, silk lingerie, and rococo social convolutions of the Old World. Self-consciously witty, briskly paced, and true to its source, Le Divorce succeeds where other modern-day Merchant Ivory productions have faltered; it captures the follies, foibles, and faux pas that occur as two worlds collide and collude, as well as the soufflé-lite pleasures of the City of Light. (1:55) Albany, Embarcadero, Orinda, Piedmont. (Kimberly Chun)

*Finding Nemo When his beloved son Nemo is whisked from the ocean by a scuba diver, neurotic clown fish Marlin (Albert Brooks) launches a Great Barrier Reef-sized quest to track him down, running into a huge assortment of oceanic perils (sharks, shipwrecks, weird-looking deep-sea fish, seagulls) and pals (notably a forgetful fish named Dory, who, as voiced by Ellen DeGeneres, gets the film's biggest laughs) along the way. Meanwhile, Nemo hatches elaborate escape plans with the creatures dwelling in his new home – a dentist's office aquarium. Though the search-and-rescue plot of this latest computer-animated adventure from Disney-Pixar (Toy Story, A Bug's Life, Monsters, Inc.) will play pretty routine to the grown-ups, pint-sized audiences will be in suspense to the end; adult audiences can enjoy the film's more subtle, clever touches (the dental-office scenes are particularly ingenious). (1:41) Century 20, Jack London, Kabuki, Metreon, 1000 Van Ness, Shattuck. (Eddy)

Freaky Friday Thanks to a magic fortune cookie, mom Jamie Lee Curtis and daughter Lindsay Lohan (who also starred in The Parent Trap, another Disney remake) swap bodies and learn to see things through each other's eyes. While the film has its highlights – Curtis on the back of a motorbike, Lohan faking her way Milli Vanilli-style through a garage rock gig – it still feels a bit stale and is less playful and goofy than the original. The new Freaky Friday taps the clichés of the overworked, under-attentive mother and the teen acting out because she needs TLC to the max. The result: an MTV-soundtracked, Hot Topic-clad, formula family flick. Still, not bad for a summer afternoon rife with low expectations and girlish giggles. (1:49) Century Plaza, Century 20, Grand Lake, Jack London, Kabuki, Metreon, 1000 Van Ness, Orinda, Shattuck. (Sabrina Crawford)

*Gigantic: A Tale of Two Johns They Might Be Giants, the Brooklyn duo of John Flansburgh (glasses, guitarist) and John Linnell (cuter, accordion player, more distinctively nasally vocals), are possibly the greatest snark-rock combo ever. Their greatest hits (or mostly nonhits, in actual chart terms) might comfortably stretch to two whole discs, with no two fans ever agreeing about track selection. TMBG are master musical-genre dilettantes; three minutes spent with them will reliably land somewhere between the painless, the amusing, and the nirvanic. For all but the dedicated (of which there are many), however, 30 minutes is pushing it. Ergo my mixed feelings about the 102 minutes that make up Gigantic: A Tale of Two Johns, A.J. Schnack's documentary homage to the band. If you love TMBG and every breath they exhale, you will be in hog heaven here – in good company, too, given the film's lineup of celebrity fans almost too geek-chic perfect to be believed (Dave Eggers, Harry Shearer, Conan O'Brien, Josh Kornbluth, Janeane Garofalo, Jon Stewart). If you just like them, all of this feature's shiny toy-ness will begin to pall after a while, leaving you with a confusing mixture of delight, guilty ingratitude, and hunger for beefsteak. (1:42) Castro. (Harvey)

Gigli Forget about the overexposure blitzkrieg of the two-headed ubiquity known as Ben 'n' Jen, or the bad buzz that's hovered like a crown of flies around their first professional pairing, and try to see this tale of a dim-witted wise guy (Ben Affleck) and a philosophy-quoting lesbian mob enforcer (Jennifer Lopez) who kidnap a federal prosecutor's mentally handicapped brother (Justin Bartha) minus any of the baggage attached to it. Then you'll see this dull romantic comedy for what it really is, which, despite some truly Bad Film Hall of Fame moments (Christopher Walken's gratuitous cameo, J.Lo referring to oral sex as "turkey time"), is less a cult-worthy awful film than your run-of-the-mill Hollywood-hyped hokum. No second coming of Showgirls here, sorry; Gigli is simply another plodding, poorly made film seesawing between unintentional hilarity and cringe-worthy celebrity voyeurism that, if nothing else, has given this generation its Liz Taylor and Dick Burton. (2:04) Kabuki, Metreon, 1000 Van Ness. (Fear)

Johnny English You loved him in Black Adder and as Mr. Bean, but when Rowan Atkinson broke out onto the silver screen, audiences found themselves torn between loyalty and discrepancy. Coming into Johnny English, I carried doubts, and although the role of a bumbling secret agent seems promising, it does not match Atkinson's comedic ability. Still, one cannot help but chuckle at the predictable pickles English struggles out of. Peppering the story line is a French supervillain who plots to steal the crown – overplayed by none other than John Malkovich. As well as one-hit wonder Natalie Imbruglia as Johnny's inevitable love interest. I'm still confused as to what Malkovich is doing here, but hey, we all gotta make a buck. More subtle than Mike Myers's hit Austin Powers trilogy, Johnny English takes a common play on the iconic Bond series and blends it with British buffoonery, more aligned with American humor, only a veteran such as Atkinson can own. The film grossed more than $100 million before its U.S. release, and although this amount eclipses the moderately positive critique I can offer, audiences could be wasting their money on a worse film. (1:24) Century 20, Metreon, 1000 Van Ness, Shattuck. (Pham)

Lara Croft Tomb Raider: The Cradle of Life Since the Tomb Raider masterminds seem unwilling to aspire beyond the principle that people will watch lint form if it features Angelina Jolie, they might as well save money next time and make Lara Croft: Telemarketer. Wearing Indiana Jones couture, our hot Lady Croft returns to find and protect Pandora's box, an artifact containing a dark force that bad guys wish to control (you know, unlike that time in Raiders of the Lost Ark when the exact same thing happens). Jolie again emotes via eyebrow raises and looks like a petulant version of the Bionic Woman as her lack of agility is disguised by slo-mo. Low-octane action scenes are dropped into the narrative at random and are missing logic to an annoying degree; for example, when Croft wants to get to the surface of the ocean quickly, she deliberately slices her arm, waves the blood around, and then hitches a ride on Jaws after a lengthy showdown. Um, I guess that's faster than swimming. (2:00) Century 20, Kabuki, Metreon, 1000 Van Ness. (Koh)

The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen Alan Moore and Kevin O'Neill's graphic novel was a wet dream for bibliophiles: gather together literary heroes from Stevenson, Stoker, Verne, and H.G. Wells, then pit them against famous Victorian-era villains. This big-screen adaptation lamentably strips the comic's intellectual properties down to its bare-bones high concept and bulldozes over viewers with bells and whistles turned up to paint-peeling volume. It'd be hard to completely catalog how director Stephen Norrington (Blade) managed to ruin such surefire material, though any partial list would have to include the gratuitous addition of characters (including everyone's favorite American secret service agent of letters ... Tom Sawyer?!?), action sequences favoring chaos over coherence, and squandering the inspired casting of Sean Connery as an autumnal Allan Quartermain. Worse, LXG commits the most venal of summer movies sins in that it lacks any sense of fun; its most "extraordinary" quality may be that it somehow succeeds in alienating bookworms, comic geeks, and Cineplex groupies in one fell swoop. (1:52) Metreon, 1000 Van Ness. (Fear)

*Madame Satã Brazilian director Karïm Ainouz's debut feature, Madame Satã – a portrait of street legend João Francisco dos Santos – is a prickly, evasive creature; it's just as explosive as Fernando Meirelles's City of God, albeit on a smaller scale. Hustler, murderer, and queen are just three of the labels alternately modeled and discarded by dos Santos, known simply as João (Lázaro Ramos) in the film. dos Santos was swapped for a mare by his mother when he was seven, and thus began an outlaw's journey – a 76-year odyssey punctuated by 27 years of prison time – that would ultimately be celebrated during the '70s in the pages of countercultural journals such as Pasquim. Though Ainouz is convinced of dos Santos's importance, he isn't concerned with making him likable, and in denying the built-in restrictions of various storytelling forms, the director winds up providing a brief glimpse of a long, full life. Madame Satã is a unique series of snapshots in motion, but it could have been so much more. (1:45) Galaxy. (Huston)

The Magdalene Sisters The Magdalene Laundries were set up as sanctuaries for Ireland's "wayward girls," a broad term that could be applied to young women who'd given birth to a child out of wedlock, such as Rose (Dorothy Duffy), or who'd been raped, like Margaret (Anne Marie Duff). Run by an order of nuns bearing the beyond-ironic moniker Sisters of Mercy, these church-operated institutions preached spiritual penance through hard labor and corporal punishment. Credit goes to the actresses, mostly unknowns and all pitch-perfect in their roles, but it's the director, Peter Mullan, who fuels the film with a harsh, lyrical fury. The Magdalene Sisters has stirred up its share of controversy (it was denounced by the Vatican the same day it won the Golden Lion at the Venice Film Festival), but Mullan has his sights set on bigger game than just kitchen-sink melodrama or sensationalism. His refusal to pander to audience expectations ups the ante substantially; what really makes The Magdalene Sisters such an extraordinary experience is that, unlike most cine-fictional drama rooted in fact, the eventual catharsis feels genuinely earned.

(1:59) Embarcadero. (Fear)

Masked and Anonymous Having bode his time before following up the harrowing indulgence of Renaldo and Clara, Bob Dylan at least hired professionals to make Masked and Anonymous, a ponderous, narcissistic exercise in jaded-celebrity moral outrage. TV-trained director and co-scenarist Larry Charles (Seinfeld, Curb Your Enthusiasm) knows where to point the camera. The film's production design, with its vaguely futurist air of urban collapse that makes downtown Los Angeles look like Colombia, is intriguingly distinctive. But beyond that, abandon all hope. Dylan (whose acting still bears comparison to a cement block) plays Jack Fate, a laconic former rock superstar bailed from jail to play a televised benefit concert that will uplift the downtrodden, mythical nation. Concert sequences and eventual martyrdom ensue. Supposedly, this movie makes some sense if you've paid a lot of attention to the lyrics on recent Dylan albums; for the rest of us, it's quasi-surreal, limply metaphorical, solemnly pretentious wankage unredeemed by the gratuitous oh-my-god-I'm-acting-with-the-Voice-of-His-Generation star cameos. (1:46) Act I and II, Opera Plaza. (Harvey)

*A Mighty Wind The latest from Christopher Guest (Best in Show) and his ensemble of comics and character actors is another high-concept parody: when the legendary folk music impresario Irving Steinbloom passes away, his son organizes a tribute show featuring the crème de la crème of the 1960s Bleecker Street scene. The event heralds the return of such seminal acts as the Folksmen (Guest, Michael McKean, and Harry Shearer) and the reunited Mitch and Mickey (Eugene Levy, Catherine O'Hara). Wind features the genius comic turns (Levy's shell-shocked Brian Wilson impersonation vies with Fred Willard's unctuous band manager for the show-stealing throne) and deadpan shtick that's become synonymous with the all-star collective. But although Wind is still far funnier and more inventive than most of what passes for yukfests these days, this experiment in without-a-net creative comedy never quite gels; one senses that not even the editing room could turn what's essentially a number of disparate, fragmented laugh-riot ideas into the cohesive tour de force their legacy demands. (1:27) Galaxy. (Fear)

Northfork In the latest from Sacramento's Polish brothers, Mark and Michael (Twin Falls Idaho, Jackpot), the Montana town of Northfork is just 48 rapidly passing hours away from being flooded out of existence by a dam project. State agents (including Peter Coyote and James Woods) are dispatched to evacuate the last stubborn-holdout residents before modern technology drowns them. Meanwhile, sickly little boy Irwin (Duel Farnes) is redeposited by adoptive parents at the doorstep of Father Harlan (Nick Nolte), who views him as an "angel." Co-scenarists Michael (who also directs) and Mark (who costars) Polish's overcalculatedly mythological cinema would greatly benefit from a stronger storytelling sense, not to mention characters defined by human depth rather than conceptual fancy-dancing. Yet Northfork is a fanciful reverie made by born filmmakers, and the Polish brothers truly are doing something really, really different. Which counts for a lot. (1:34) Galaxy. (Harvey)

Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl In this seaworthy tale from Ring director Gore Verbinski and action-happy producer Jerry Bruckheimer, offbeat swashbuckler Captain Jack Sparrow (Johnny Depp) and blacksmith Will Turner (Lord of the Rings elf Orlando Bloom) team up to pursue the snarling buccaneers who've kidnapped Will's beloved Elizabeth (Keira Knightley from Bend It like Beckham). Seems the crew of the Black Pearl (including Geoffrey Rush as their monkey-toting leader) believe she's the key to lifting the nasty curse that plagues them. Pirates taps plenty of familiar motifs – a talking parrot ("Shiver me timbers!"), a cave filled with treasure, cannon fights, people saying, "Arrrr!" – and follows a pretty rote escape-and-capture story line. And yeah, it's based on a Disneyland ride. But thanks in no small part to Depp's oddly endearing performance, the good-natured Pirates aims for fun and largely succeeds. (2:23) Century Plaza, Century 20, Grand Lake, Kabuki, Metreon, 1000 Van Ness. (Eddy)

Seabiscuit In the midst of the Great Depression, a second-rate racing nag named Seabiscuit, laden with an oversized jockey (Tobey Maguire), a laconic trainer (Chris Cooper), and a zealous manager (Jeff Bridges), somehow broke track records and captured the public's fancy. Based on Laura Hillenbrand's insanely readable biography, the film adaptation by Gary Ross (Pleasantville) also gets people rooting for the under-horse while imbuing social significance to the sport of kings, though his version seems overflowing with its own sense of stateliness. The movie often seems less a retelling of the legendary equine success story than a catalog of pure Americana, owing as much to Horatio Alger's bootstrap fables or Walker Evans's photography as it does to horse racing and history. Amazing performances, gorgeous autumnal visuals, and elliptical editing provide a wonderful cadence but eventually lose by a nose to Capraesque populist pandering, complete with PBS-friendly narration that equates the martyr mare with New Deal politics quicker than you can say Triple Crown-ed metaphor. (2:21) Century 20, Empire, Grand Lake, Jack London, Kabuki, Metreon, Oaks, 1000 Van Ness, Orinda. (Fear)

The Secret Lives of Dentists The erratic Alan Rudolph has always enjoyed, with varying success, diving into self-contained milieus – from the Me Decade mecca in Welcome to L.A. to the famous salons of The Moderns and Mrs. Parker and the Vicious Circle. But he's arguably never investigated a scene as familiar yet surprising as the one here: a suburban middle-class marriage, with children. Dentists who share a practice, David (Campbell Scott) and Dana Hurst (Hope Davis) have reached that point in their lives where activity is incessant but actual stimulation is rare; with three very young daughters, a mortgage, and god knows what other ordinary obligations stretching years ahead, their well-plotted future can be seen as either comforting or suffocating. Secret Lives' long climax is nothing more than a family of five getting the flu – and it might be the most engrossing, detailed, nail-biting set piece you'll see all year. (1:44) Metreon, Smith Rafael. (Harvey)

Spellbound A frightening, often comedic look into the family lives of the nation's top young spellers, Jeff Blitz's documentary too easily balances the oddities of overachievers: if there's an obsessed speller, there's also a nonchalant one; some families are wealthy, some are poor. There's diversity, love, faith, and most predictably, a fight against the odds. Though the film builds tension as it reaches various humiliating climaxes at the microphone, it suffers the same malady as its subjects: it feels far more stage-managed than earned or lived. (1:36) Lumiere, Shattuck. (Gerhard)

Spy Kids 3-D: Game Over Pint-size spy Juni Cortez (Daryl Sabara) has been called in from the cold to rescue his sister (Alexa Varga), who's trapped in an online video game run by a megalomaniacal game programmer (Sylvester Stallone). The only way to get her out is to get Juni in the game himself and past the numerous 3-D (literally!) obstacles that stand in his way. The third time is not usually a charm when it comes to movie trilogies, but Robert Rodriguez's tales of junior league espionage have always had charm to spare; even this weakest entry in the series has just enough infectious, imaginative magnetism to put most average kids flicks to shame. Pulling the 3-D rabbit out of the hat usually signals a last-gasp gimmick, but the overall campfire-story giddiness here feels more like a filmmaker delighting in sharing ancient cinematic tricks with a new generation of popcorn munchers. (1:25) Century Plaza, Century 20, Jack London, Kabuki, Metreon, 1000 Van Ness. (Fear)

S.W.A.T. As formulaic and predictable as it gets, this assembly-line actioner gets the job done (car chases, gun battles, one-liners, dust-ups with the brass, etc.) but is so, well, so-so it's hardly memorable enough to recommend. Likeable stars Samuel L. Jackson (as an "old-school" S.W.A.T. team leader), Colin Farrell (as a gifted officer with something to prove), the perma-snarling Michelle Rodriguez, and the ab-fab L.L. Cool J have their game faces on, but even the vaguely intriguing plot – after he's captured, an internationally notorious fugitive (Olivier Martinez) offers $100 million to whoever busts him out; gangsters of the world soon come calling – plays out utterly by rote. Fine for in-flight entertainment or for Farrell groupies; everyone else, there's still time to catch the truly ostentatious cops-a-go-go flick Bad Boys 2 instead. (1:56) Century Plaza, Century 20, Jack London, Metreon, 1000 Van Ness. (Eddy)

*Swimming Pool Charlotte Rampling plays Sarah Morton, an author in the Patricia Highsmith mold – with an emphasis on mold – who ventures to a vine-laced villa in the south of France to begin work on the latest addition to her musty mystery series. Ludivine Sagnier plays Julie, the slutty daughter of Sarah's publisher, and an unwelcome surprise guest at Sarah's writer's retreat. The two don't waste any time invading each other's privacy. Whether that privacy is typed on a laptop or penned in girlie cursive, it's a key to asserting power over the other. Swimming Pool's "secrets" tease audiences; ultimately, the film is a poison-lensed love letter to director François Ozon's producer. It's time for this mildly naughty boy to make a wildly rude film that pleases no one but himself. (1:54) Albany, Clay, Piedmont. (Huston)

Terminator 3: Rise of the Machines The terms "unnecessary cash-in" and "soulless retread" come to mind; even the film's catchphrases are straight from the recycling bin. With James Cameron and Linda Hamilton out of the picture, the weight of T3 rests on Schwarzenegger's meaty shoulders and director Jonathan Mostow's ability to dole out the film's mounting battles and explosions. A robotic assassin from the future (Kristanna Loken) is sent to kill John Connor (Nick Stahl), because he's the one who'll eventually lead the resistence movement after machines take over the world, blah, blah, blah. Thank gawd a Terminator turned protector (you know who) is also on the case. The superior Terminator 2: Judgement Day told the same story, with a female lead far more powerful and multidimensional than T3's milquetoast Claire Danes and Loken's steely "Terminatrix" combined. As for the FX, remember how everyone shat themselves back in 1991 when Robert Patrick's character did all that melting-morphing business? There's nothing so thrilling this go-round. (1:49) Metreon, 1000 Van Ness. (Eddy)

*28 Days Later Early in Danny Boyle's 28 Days Later, a patient named Jim (Cillian Murphy) awakes from a coma only to find the hospital, the streets, the surrounding buildings, and possibly – probably – the entire world, completely, nightmarishly deserted. The culprit? "Rage," a highly contagious blood virus accidentally unleashed on London by a group of well-intentioned animal rights activists. Symptoms, which manifest in 20 seconds or less, include red eyes, projectile vomiting, and the uncontrollable urge to viciously attack everyone around you. Thanks to the use of digital video, a trembling pop soundtrack, and British slang, 28 Days Later is pretty arty for a genre film. Still, horror is the main event, and like all truly scary movies, this one neatly plays off current events (SARS, for one) to increase the oh-shit-this-might-really-happen vibe. Though this heavily Romero-influenced film isn't overflowing with original ideas, the timing of its release is impeccable. Who isn't afraid of catching a horrible disease, or of waking up to find an entire city wiped out by a scary, unknown event? (1:48) Balboa, Metreon, 1000 Van Ness. (Eddy)

*The Weather Underground Sam Green and Bill Siegel's new documentary explores '60s revolutionaries the Weathermen, one of the warring factions in Students for a Democratic Society (SDS) that emerged from campus cocoons advocating urban guerrilla warfare. The typical Weatherman was white, 25, had done three years at Ann Arbor or Columbia, and had a passion for getting down that existed in a direct relationship to his or her parents' financial assets. It was a great story – rich kids, anguished parents, terrorism, and life on the run – and the media covered it like a rug. The Weather Underground gives those who wrote the original story a chance to look back and try it again, confined only by various versions of the original. Green and Siegel (the researcher behind Hoop Dreams) approached a number of ex-members and scored one-on-one conversations with most of the group's former leaders. Ironically, the filmmakers had nothing to do with what's most important about The Weather Underground: the timing of its release. "When I started it," Green told me, "no one was thinking about this stuff. Now, well, I wish it wasn't so, but the world has changed a lot. The wars in Afghanistan and Iraq have raised many issues, and a lot of the questions that people talked about back then are relevant today." (1:32) Balboa, Shattuck, Smith Rafael. (J.H. Tompkins)

*Whale Rider Director Niki Caro's adaptation of New Zealand author Witi Ihimaera's 1986 novel combines familiar coming-of-age elements with Maori mysticism to exceptionally engaging effect. Pubescent Pai (Keisha Castle-Hughes) has been raised by her strict but loving grandfather Koro (Rawiri Paratene) and more easygoing grandma (Vicky Haughton) since her artist dad left to travel the world. The latter (Cliff Curtis) was and is too grief-stricken to stay in the community – his wife died giving birth to Pai, and tribal chief Koro still pressures him to deliver a male grandchild who might one day "lead our people out of the darkness" that modern, Westernized life has imposed. But that ain't happening, so granddad opens a "sacred school" to educate local boys in "the old ways – the qualities of a chief." These involve everything from religious ritual to martial arts instruction. Koro is so rigidly tradition-minded that he insists girls are "worthless" in these capacities – though it's increasingly clear to everyone else that Pai possesses talent and discipline far beyond any male peers. The resulting, painful rift between child and grandparent reaches a climactic point of catastrophe and supernatural redemption that would be ludicrous in any less psychologically level-headed, stylistically astute context. A rare movie that should play just as well for eight-year-olds as it does for art-house grownups. (1:55) California, Four Star, Opera Plaza, Piedmont. (Harvey)

*Winged Migration Its unassuming title and topic (migratory birds) notwithstanding, Jacques Perrin's documentary Winged Migration is of a feather with the greatest of action movies: the only time the screen is not occupied with ambushes, crash landings, gunshots, daring escapes, murderous crustaceans, and crumbling icebergs, is when it follows the birds in pure, sensational flight. Five crews of more than 450 people, with 17 pilots and 14 cinematographers, were involved in filming these birds in flight, and still the resulting sequences are so close, so immediate, so lacking in artifice, that you would swear they were filmed by another bird. And it's a running theme that while the humans are so ingenious as to bring the film off – traveling across 40 countries in all seven continents, from the Eiffel Tower to Monument Valley, the Arctic to the Amazon – the indefatigable birds themselves are even more astounding. (1:29) Act I and II, Opera Plaza, Piedmont, Smith Rafael. (Amir Baghdachi)

Rep picks

*Brotherhood of Satan Anticipating Children of the Corn but with a less formulaic feel, this 1971 U.S. horror flick is a creepy-cool little rediscovery. Granite-jawed widower Charles Bateman, girlfriend Ahna Capri, and preteen daughter Geri Reischl are driving on a cross-country holiday when they make a grisly discovery: an entire family run off the highway, then crushed flat in their vehicle. Stopping in the nearest town to report this "accident," the trio are met with such a mixture of hostility and hysteria that they soon flee – unsuccessfully. Some force is not allowing anyone to leave the tranquil-looking small town; in the last 72 hours, 26 people have died mysteriously, while several children between ages six and nine have gone missing. With escape apparently impossible, Bateman, the sheriff (L.Q. Jones), a young priest (Charles Robinson), and a recently arrived, elderly doctor (Strother Martin) go about trying to discover the source of this mayhem. We find out long before they do that the duplicitous doc is actually chief among a league of graying Satanists plotting to use the burg's kiddies as hosts for their latest reincarnations. Apart from the rather disappointing crying jags and hysterias of nominal female lead Capri (the "resourceful action heroine" concept hadn't quite hit yet in 1971), this indie thriller works very nicely by downplaying its fantastical elements and focusing on the eerie quiet of quintessential everyday Americana suddenly stopped in its tracks. One of very few theatrical features from longtime TV director Bernard McEveety, this entry in the PFA Theater's "Excess of Evil" series was cowritten and produced by veteran actor Jones, whose next behind-the-camera effort – directing the 1975 sci-fi black comedy A Boy and His Dog – would win the immediate cult following that's so far eluded the worthy Brotherhood. PFA Theater. (Harvey)

*'Czech Horror and Fantasy on Film' See 8 Days a Week, page 74. PFA Theater.