Valley view
The Mill Valley Film Festival calls

CINEPHILES, LIKE geese, migrate. Though their formations aren't quite as beautiful to look at, a steady stream of them take their coffee cups north annually to feed off Canada's film festivals – Toronto's, Montreal's, and Vancouver's. Those who have no intention of flying anywhere for films find their internal global-positioning systems driving them over the Golden Gate Bridge toward the Mill Valley Film Festival, where one can crunch popcorn and leaves and quench a thirst for art-house cinema or camaraderie. As always, Mill Valley's collection of international films (particularly notable for Zoe Elton's African picks) and its American indies, children's programming, local finds, and documentaries make it well worth the trip. Below are a few tips on where to alight.

El bonaerense (Pablo Trapero, Argentina, 2002) Where director Pablo Trapero's previous film-festival-circuit feature Crane World introduced the world to a new talent, as well as a spaghetti-loving older man whose weight problem cost him a "dream job" as a crane operator, El bonaerense proves Trapero's visual skill. A gorgeously shot police story that somehow welds humane comedy to brutal cop torture and malfeasance, the film will have you seeing red in a whole new hue. Clearly one of the Argentine new wave's larger talents, Trapero carefully crafts the old story of one young man's slide down a slippery ethical slope into something altogether new. Sat/4, 7:30 p.m., Sequoia; Sun/5, 8:30 p.m., Rafael. (Susan Gerhard)

Casa de los Babys (John Sayles, U.S., 2003) See Movie Clock, in Film listings, for review. Thurs/2, 7 and 9:15 p.m., Rafael.

Greendale (Bernard Shakey, a.k.a. Neil Young, U.S., 2003) Neil Young's voice has always been craggy, so it's no surprise the feistiest lyrics in his new musical – cantankerous jabs about Americans fighting "for freedom of silence" – belong to the oldest patriarch of the Greens, a hippie farm family whose troubled lives are trashed by a media invasion. "It ain't an honor to be on TV / And it ain't a duty either," plaid flannel-clad Grandpa Green gripes, and only a fool would disagree. The distorted minor chords of Greendale's songs signal that storms are brewing, and unfortunately for the Greens, antiwar crop circles don't mean a thing to reporters in search of a sound bite. Built around off-kilter lip-synching, the performances clumsily strive for a silent-film effect. Mimicking Super 8 rawness with digi-vid tools, Young isn't as gifted at creating sights as he is at making sounds. Oct. 11, 9 p.m., Sequoia; Oct. 12, 9:45 p.m., Rafael. (Johnny Ray Huston)

Japanese Story (Sue Brooks, Australia, 2003) Marooned in the Australian outback, an imperious businessman (Gotaro Tsunashima) and a resentful guide (Toni Collette) are forced into intimacy; just when the desert turns into an Eden, a fall awaits them. Gossip maestro Michael Musto recently decreed that "quirky romances with a rarefied Japanese twist" have replaced Douglas Sirk tributes as the current cinematic trend; the implicit Western bias of that statement applies to Sue Brooks's new movie as much as to Sofia Coppola's Lost in Translation, though Japanese Story's fumbling sincerity differs from Coppola's stylish entitlement. This year is shaping up to be one in which the lead actors of award-minded dramas are stronger than the films themselves, and Collette's raw, multifaceted performance here is an Oscar calling card complete with the required vanity-free naked moments. Oct. 8, 6:30 p.m., Rafael; Oct. 11, noon, Sequoia. (Huston)

My Architect (Nathaniel Kahn, U.S., 2003) My Architect's subtitle, A Son's Journey, gives away the essential flaw of Nathaniel Kahn's documentary about his very famous father, architect Louis I. Kahn. Yes, an icon. The journey gets personal, perhaps too personal, in a film that mixes soul-searching bewilderment over Kahn's private life – one that featured three separate families, though only one official "wife" – with analysis of his contribution to our cities and skylines. Nathaniel, the youngest of three Kahn children birthed by three different women, seeks a spiritual reunion with his distant dad but finds himself merely more confounded by the all-too-concrete legacies the man left behind. With colorful cameos by I.M. Pei, Frank Gehry, and Philip Johnson. Sat/4, 1:15 p.m., Rafael; Tues/7, 6:30 p.m., Sequoia. (Gerhard)

Noi the Albino (Dagur Kári, Denmark/Germany/Iceland/U.K., 2002) Noi (Tómas Lemarquis) is a smart fuckup on a slow road to nowhere. His grandmother uses a shotgun to rouse him from bed in the morning. His dad is a woeful Elvis impersonator – shades of Aki Kaurismäki and Jim Jarmusch – too drunk to realize he's sabotaged the goals he's set for his son. While indebted to the wry humor of the aforementioned directors, Kári is more commercial minded; he's crafted a coming-of-age tale, albeit a morbid one. Noi the Albino's vast snowy landscapes aren't kinetic, but they are striking, and they certainly emphasize the isolation faced by the title character. Bleak? Yes. But there are also some hilarious scenes – a failed bank robbery and a bloody family get-together, in particular – in Kári's effective slice of life and death. Fri/3, 7:15 p.m., Sequoia; Mon/6, 9:15 p.m., Rafael. (Huston)

Pieces of April (Peter Hedges, U.S., 2003) A secondhand "original" soundtrack of corrosive Stephin Merritt lullabies sets the tone of Peter Hedges's digi-vid comic drama. The Guess Who's Cohosting Dinner? scenario traps viewers in a car with a miserable white family as they journey toward a Thanksgiving feast that's been thoroughly botched by black sheep Katie Holmes and her black boyfriend, Derek Luke. Sarcasm eventually gives way to multicult sweetness, but not before Patricia Clarkson provides brutally potent glimpses of a dying woman's solitude. As one of Holmes's neighbors, Sean Hayes might be imitating Merritt's glum and contrary persona, and Allison Pill plays her brown-nosing daughter role to annoying perfection. Still, Pieces of April's best pieces are provided by Clarkson. Sat/4, 7 p.m., Rafael; Mon/6, 7:15 p.m., Sequoia. (Huston)

Prisoner of Paradise (Malcolm Clarke and Stuart Sender, Canada/U.K., 2002) An incredible document, which was nominated for an Oscar last year, Malcolm Clarke and Stuart Sender's portrait of Kurt Gerron, a comic star, character actor, and director in pre-WWII Germany, tells more than the excruciating story of Gerron's fate or that of a concentration camp beautified into Nazi propaganda. It melts down the documentary itself as conveyor of truth, as Gerron, imprisoned, "accepts" the job of filming Theriesenstadt as a glorious ghetto for Nazi propaganda purposes. The sadness in the eyes of children performing for a camera, only to be later slaughtered, will haunt audiences, as it should. Oct. 11, 6:45 p.m., Rafael; Oct. 12, 7 p.m., Rafael. (Gerhard)

Quattro Noza (Joey Curtis, U.S., 2003) Quattro Noza premiered at Sundance, where its pungent cheeba aroma (Dr. Dre's Chronic 2000 blares from the soundtrack) and rough action-film style could have provided relief from an army of polite middlebrow clones. Sadly, Quattro Noza spins out of control long before its hackneyed Romeo and Juliet story reaches a point of dramatic conflict. A reliance on amateur actors isn't an inherent problem – in fact, it could have been beneficial – but there's plenty of Hey-I'm-in-a-movie! posing and not much depth to the characterizations here. Schooled by Stan Brakhage, first-time director Joey Curtis builds lengthy impressionistic passages and short fits of tension from some revved-up highway races. In the end, though, tacky style trumps empty substance. Fri/3, 9:15 p.m., Rafael; Oct. 11, 9 p.m., Rafael. (Huston)

Shattered Glass (Billy Ray, U.S., 2003) A drama starring Hayden Christensen might sound like a movie inherently doomed by a stiff, clonelike lead performance, but Christensen redeems himself playing disgraced New Republic journalist-fabulist Stephen Glass: while not the best actor here, he brings ample phony charms to the part. Screenwriter-turned-director Billy Ray fashions an intelligent, crisp narrative; Glass's rise and fall gradually turns into the story of Chuck Lane (Peter Sarsgaard), the man who uncovered the full scope of his falsehoods. When Ray contrasts bad-boy Glass's sexual ambivalence with Lane's family man "normality," the conservative morality of the dichotomy is annoying, but Shattered Glass's screenplay nails the covert power plays lurking beneath newsroom banter, and Sarsgaard is excellent. Keep an eye out for Heavenly Creatures alum Melanie Lynskey in a bit part. Fri/3, 6:45 p.m., Sequoia; Sat/4, 1 p.m., Sequoia. (Huston)

The Singing Detective (Keith Gordon, U.S., 2003) What went wrong? The casting is fine: for a role that mixes rehab with singing and dancing, Robert Downey Jr. seems like the ideal man to call upon. (Although Alfre Woodard's presence has become shorthand for "lousy film," and this one is no exception.) The soundtrack is interesting: it even brings Johnnie Ray's "Walking in the Rain" out for a stroll. But this Dennis Potter adaptation isn't fit for a double bill with Herbert Ross's Pennies from Heaven. Actor-turned-director Keith Gordon falls back on second-rate David Lynch-isms. The highlight has to be Mel Gibson, who pulls out the hair plugs to trash his action-hero image with what seems like a Buck Henry impersonation. Sat/4, 6:15 p.m., Sequoia; Sun/5, 9:15 p.m., Sequoia. (Huston)

The Station Agent (Tom McCarthy, U.S., 2003) Along with Pieces of April, this was part of Patricia Clarkson's one-two punch at Sundance; actually, Clarkson was in four films there, but the other two weren't award winners. In The Station Agent she plays a divorcée grieving her son's death, and the movie's strongest scenes involve her cold-shoulder response when people misguidedly reach out to offer comfort. Tom McCarthy's film is choreographed so a triad of misfits – two loners (Clarkson and Peter Dinklage) and one extrovert (Bobby Cannavale) – meet up on the train tracks of small-town life, only to break apart again. Dinklage's dwarf protagonist alternately faces and escapes a patronizing world, but it's his rejection by Clarkson's character that truly stings. If all this sounds depressing, rest assured that The Station Agent doesn't forget to add moments of hope and whimsy; they just aren't as interesting as its dark side. Thurs/2, 7 and 9:15 p.m., Sequoia. (Huston)

Sunset Story (Laura Gabbert, U.S., 2003) First, a disclaimer: I've been friends with the producers of this film for years, but I'd be remiss if I didn't recommend one of the most heartfelt pieces of documentary to hit screens this year. A nonogenarian and her spry octogenarian friend spend their final days in a rest home for freethinkers, doing what comes naturally: arguing, protesting in the streets, complaining about the food, and coming to terms with The End. It's a profound reimagining of the meaning and consequence of old age wrapped in a gentle comedy that leaves room for the viewer. Oct. 12, 2:30 p.m., Sequoia. (Gerhard)

Tom Dowd: The Language of Music (Mark Moormann, U.S., 2003) Tom Dowd was one of the prime invisible heroes of 20th-century music, an engineer whose landmark technical innovations were matched by his open-hearted approach to working with artists. The recorded legacies of Ray Charles, John Coltrane, and Aretha Franklin wouldn't be quite what they are if it weren't for the Dowd touch. Mark Moormann's doc spends a little too long wallowing in the man's collaborations with the Allman Brothers and Creem and not enough time on Coltrane, Franklin, and Otis Redding. But that's a petty gripe: a reunion between Dowd and Charles reveals their camaraderie, and as an interview subject, Dowd displays a life-love so contagious it's easy to see why he forsook nuclear science for music. The final scene, in which Dowd explains and performs his favorite song, is a tiny piece of pure gold. Mon/6, 9:15 p.m., Sequoia. (Huston)

Mill Valley Film Festival

The 26th annual Mill Valley Film Festival runs Oct. 2-12. Venues for films listed above are CinéArts @ Sequoia, 25 Throckmorton, Mill Valley; and Christopher B. Smith Rafael Film Center, 1118 Fourth St., San Rafael; festival events take place at other North Bay venues as well. Tickets are $9; call (925) 866-9559 or go to www.mvff.com. For this week's schedule see Film listings.