San Francisco Asian Film Festival

San Francisco Asian Film Festival

The San Francisco Asian Film Festival runs Aug 11-21 at the Four Star Movie Theatre, 2200 Clement, SF; and the Presidio Theatre, 2340 Chestnut, SF. For ticket information (most shows $5-10) visit www.sfaff.com. For commentary, see Script Doctor.

Thurs/11

Presidio Electric Shadows 8.

Fri/12

Four Star Killer's Romance 12:30. Deadly Dream Woman 2:45. 2 Young 5. One Night in Mongkok 7:20. Neighbor No. 13 9:30.

Sat/13

Four Star Windstruck 12:30. Crying Out Love in the Center of the World 2:45. Samaritan Girl 5:30. Natural City 7:40. Vital 10.

Sun/14

Four Star A Placed Promise in Our Early Days 12:30. Samaritan Girl 2:30. A Moment to Remember 4:45. Rice Rhapsody 7:15. Kamikaze Girls 9:30.

Mon/15

Four Star Vendetta 1. 2 Young 3:15. Pulse 6. Another Public Enemy 8:30.

Tues/16

Four Star Lady Chatterley in Tokyo 12:30. Another Public Enemy 2:35. Kamikaze Girls 5:30. R-Point 7:45. A Snake of June 9:50.

Opening

The Aristocrats See Movie Clock. (1:26) Bridge, California.

Deuce Bigalow: European Gigolo The sequel you've been waiting for! (1:17) Century Plaza, Century 20, Four Star, Grand Lake.

11:14 Greg Marcks describes the concept behind his screenwriting and directorial debut as "dissecting a moment in time," but that seems secondary to a story punctuated by some gnarly gore, lies, and cruel manipulation. Taking the increasingly popular backwards narrative approach and combining it with a Tarantino-esque rehashing of time through each character's eyes, Marcks tells of the monumental woes rattling the small town of Middleton. There are some complex and inexplicable plot machinations, one of which involves a cringeable dismembering, but with the help of a solid cast – including a braces-clad Hilary Swank and an apparently tired yet able Patrick Swayze – there is a dose of entertainment here. The film doesn't wax philosophic like other coincidence-inspired works that precede it; instead, it promotes a cynical worldview contending there are some bad people out there who do some really bad things, and those things can really mess with somebody's quiet night watching the Discovery Channel. (1:25) California, Roxie. (Odes)

Four Brothers John Singleton directs Mark Wahlberg and Terrence Howard in this tale of four brothers who set out to avenge their foster mother's murder. (1:48) Century Plaza, Century 20.

*Funny Ha Ha See "Real Genius." (1:30) Red Vic.*The Great Raid Based on the genuinely harrowing true story of a mission to rescue American POWs at the end of World War II, The Great Raid delivers with some well-crafted suspense sequences and a solid cast including Joseph Fiennes, Benjamin Bratt, and Connie Nielson. The screenplay is based on several thoroughly researched accounts of the three years following the Japanese-led Bataan Death March, after which only hundreds of the initial 70,000 prisoners survived. Fiennes is Major Gibson, the ranking officer at the POW camp in Cabanatuan who has to contend with malaria and declining morale as years pass with no sign of help from General MacArthur – who had promised to return after retreating in 1942. Suspicion of flag-waving plots is advisable in times of war, and this one overlooks some inconvenient facts (notably that the Americans also were perpetrators of a none-too-ancient brutal occupation of the Philippines), but to the film's credit, native resistors are represented as capable fighters against the Japanese and valuable allies in the daunting rescue operation. (2:12) Century 20, Shattuck. (Odes)*Grizzly Man See "Bear Naked." (1:43) Embarcadero, Empire, Shattuck.*Junebug See "Southern Charmer." (1:42) Albany, Embarcadero.*9 Songs See "Bear Naked." (1:09) Act I and II, Lumiere.

The Skeleton Key Billed as a return to the great tradition of psychological thrillers, this fragrant pile of supernatural hokum is considerably less than all that. It's got a low body count and restrained direction by current horror standards, but the twist ending (which may not entirely surprise alert viewers) isn't necessarily worth so much poker-faced, kinda-silly buildup. Kate Hudson, of "Why is she a star again? Oh right, nepotism" fame, plays a young nurse who signs on as live-in caregiver to frail, mute John Hurt under the hawk eyes of his wife Gena Rowlands. Their quaintly decrepit bayou manse comes complete with many creaking corridors, sudden power outages, a creepy "secret" attic chamber, and alleged haunting by two black servants who'd been lynched for practicing black magic. Pretty soon our heroine is unlocking the home's "mystery" while coming to suspect that the mister of the house is less invalid than drugged captive. The last time a buncha Yankees and Brits went Deep South to explore the hoodoo that yoo doo, in 1987's Angel Heart, the results were no more convincing, but way more luridly entertaining. Jury's still out on whether Hudson can carry a movie; Peter Sarsgaard (as her sort-of love interest) is wasted, while by the end Rowlands's dignity has been sullied no less than it would have had she been asked to dance the lambada. Adequately directed by Iain Softley, Skeleton Key could be worse. But hoo lawd, it shoulda been better. (1:44) Century Plaza, Century 20. (Harvey)

Ongoing

Bad News Bears With director Richard Linklater (School of Rock) and writers Glenn Ficarra and John Requa (Bad Santa) pulling the strings, there's hope from the outset for this remake (even in a summer overstuffed with unoriginal ideas). You know the story: Boozy coach oversees a gaggle of losers who end up shocking the Little League with their late-blooming success. Bad News Bears redux doesn't add much to the original, nor does it spring many new twists; there are training montages, sneering opponents, trips to Hooters, and life lessons about how winning isn't everything. Bad Santa's Billy Bob Thornton trots out his drunken-prick-with-a-secret-heart-of-gold persona yet again, but he's so agreeable it's hard to give him shit for basically repeating himself. The potty-mouthed kids are also good for some laughs, though there are no real standouts in the young cast. As for the film's other grown-ups, Greg Kinnear (as an aggro opposing coach) and Marcia Gay Harden (as a pushy mom) rarely advance beyond cardboard-cutout mode. (1:51) 1000 Van Ness. (Eddy)

*Batman Begins Batman Begins boasts plenty of talent behind the camera, with Christopher Nolan (Memento) directing from a script he cowrote with avowed comic-book fiend David S. Goyer (Blade, Dark City). Nolan's approach is way less fantasyland than Tim Burton's; his Gotham is seedier, and his Batman (Christian Bale, who heads an superb cast) is younger and way more pissed-off. The first half of the film is given over to the hero's origin story; the real action kicks in once the man in black decides to clean up his city on his own terms. "People need dramatic examples to shake them out of apathy," he explains to his faithful butler Alfred (Michael Caine). Among the film's multiple villains is psychiatrist Dr. Jonathan Crane (28 Days Later's Cillian Murphy), who himself has an alter ego – let's just say he puts the "scare" in "Scarecrow." Batman Begins may have little in common with any of the Caped Crusader's previous films, but it does resemble other recent superhero flicks, particularly Spider-Man 2, with its more existential approach to dual-identity crisis. The way Bale's Bruce Wayne/Batman character is handled here adds appreciable depth to a film that's also rife with enough essential coolness – gadgets, the Batmobile – to thrill Bat-fans of all stripes. (2:10) Century 20, 1000 Van Ness. (Eddy)

*Broken Flowers When does soulful become sardonic and minimalism register as merely boredom? As taciturn ladies' man Don Johnston – a role director Jim Jarmusch wrote exclusively for him – Bill Murray is in full middle-aged morose mode. Moping on the couch in a Fred Perry track suit, Don stares catatonically at his flat-screen TV as Sherry (Julie Delpy), his latest lady friend, prepares to leave him. Her departure is only the beginning of Don's female trouble; a pink epistle from an anonymous former girlfriend arrives, informing the sad sack lothario that he is the father of a 19-year-old son. Don's neighbor, Winston (Jeffrey Wright), takes great interest in this letter from an unknown woman and drafts a travel itinerary for Don, who crosses the country in search of the ex-paramour who wrote the missive. Jarmusch masterfully finds a way to make Murray's pared-down style seem fresh by matching him with a wonderful array of actresses who play Don's exes: Delpy, Sharon Stone, Frances Conroy, Jessica Lange, and Tilda Swinton. The characters may have crossed wires, but Broken Flowers is a shimmering display of actor-actress give-and-take, with Jarmusch crafting for each woman a meaty, if minor, role, a mini-showcase for her talents to complement – and often surpass – Murray's laconic style. (1:46) Embarcadero, Empire, Piedmont, Shattuck. (Melissa Anderson)

Charlie and the Chocolate Factory Despite ingredients that sounded mouth-watering on paper – Tim Burton, Johnny Depp, the beloved story – this emerges as an elaborately packaged, stale bonbon with a ball-bearing where its heart should be. The sadistic edge in Roald Dahl's writing (both for children and adults) is duly much more on display than it was in the middling "classic" 1971 film version of the children's book, but there's no sense of counterbalancing fun, as if somehow all the joy bled out between the storyboarding and the shooting schedule. What results is a garishly psychedelic spectacle full of outré ideas that should play a lot more entertainingly than they do. Church mouse-poor Charlie (Freddie Highmore) is the only deserving child among five who win entry to Willy Wonka's gated sweets factory, where Oompa Loompas turn out the world's best and most outlandish confections. The four other horrid brats meet various grotesque fates during the tour, making this a sort of kiddie slasher pic. The cartoonish parent-child roles are perfectly cast, but Burton gives the performers very little room to breathe – excepting Depp, of course. Channeling Michael Jackson (as you've heard), as well as Liberace (that voice), Anjelica Huston (that hair and that upscale-dominatrix manner), and other inspirations too subliminal to name, his is a polymorphously perverse turn that's fascinating, if a tad repellent. But the parodic production numbers (to Danny Elfman's songs), CGI effects, imaginative sets, et al. come off as overblown and charmless, the overall lack of real esprit underlined by perhaps the most wildly unconvincing family-values pap ever shoehorned into a giant marketing tool. For all Burton's eccentricity, this is finally just another Hook, Toys, Grinch, even dread Cat in the Hat – something meant to be warm and cuddly, drowned in a rancid tub of excess money and technology. (2:00) California, Century Plaza, Century 20, Grand Lake, Kabuki, 1000 Van Ness, Orinda, Presidio. (Harvey)

Cinderella Man Ron Howard's Cinderella Man has more in common with Seabiscuit than with any other recent movie – and that includes the similarly boxing-themed Million Dollar Baby. Based on the real-life rise, fall, and rise again of Depression-era heavyweight Jim Braddock (Russell Crowe, solid as always), Cinderella Man aims to show how Braddock became a hard-times hero to a nation that was really, really holdin' out for one. After we taste Braddock's initial success, circa 1928, we zoom ahead to 1933, where life sucks. The family (including wife Mae, played by Renée Zellweger) is now poverty-stricken, and Braddock has unjustly had his boxing license revoked. When he finally gets a second chance, the comeback trail leads him to Max Baer (Craig Bierko), notorious for killing two opponents in the ring. As their big bout approaches, the angle of Braddock as "an inspiration" to downtrodden Americans is suddenly tossed into the mix. It feels a little like screenwriters Cliff Hollingsworth and Akiva Goldsman (who also penned Howard's A Beautiful Mind) belatedly realized they needed more context, lest their script just be about a really nice guy who managed to become a champion again after a couple of rough years. (2:18) Galaxy. (Eddy)

Crash Being promoted as the most critically acclaimed film of the year (so far), Paul Haggis's first directorial feature provides a fine opportunity to note which critics you need never take seriously again. Namely, any caught clapping their heads off at this crap-a-palooza, a steaming pile of horseshit spray-painted Oscar gold – though, in fact, Crash takes itself so seriously, it might settle for nothing less than the Nobel Peace Prize. Hewing way too close to the Magnolia model, it throws together umpteen marquee names (including Sandra Bullock, Brendan Fraser, Matt Dillon, and Don Cheadle) as two-dimensional characters who intersect during a fateful 36 hours in that Hollywood veteran's perennial notion of Everytown, LA One dimension is that they're all racist – and aren't we all, the movie sorrowfully chides – and the other is that they're still "human," meaning they love their kids or have sick parents or such. With every scene a blunt confrontation, the movie is a Rube Goldberg contraption in which one overamped event sets off another, each obvious irony and tragic misunderstanding highlighted in boldface throughout. (1:40) Galaxy, Shattuck. (Harvey)

*The Devil's Rejects Designed to be a guilty pleasure of the sort that finds you crouching, like the undead, over the entrails of good taste, The Devil's Rejects represents a huge step forward for writer-director Rob Zombie over his more erratic Rocky Horror-like and music video-influenced debut feature, House of 1,000 Corpses. Looking to '70s action, horror, and trash cinema such as Deliverance, Sugarland Express, and, of course, Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Zombie gets that era's crucial drive-in mix of low-budg grit, cinema verité-style, pop savvy, taboo-thrashing violence, and even working-class empathy. Cutting up the action with extreme close-ups and lots of Southern rock and blues, Zombie throws the viewer immediately into a firefight between the law and the Firefly clan, a murderous family of crazy hillbillies that includes patriarch-killer clown Captain Spaulding (Sid Haig), necrophiliac longhair Otis (Bill Moseley), and sexy sadist Baby (Sheri Moon Zombie). Flesh masks, over-the-top amoral bloodletting, B-movie star cameos, and lots of soon-to-be-classic scenery-chawing ensue (with special Peckinpah-like intensity rolling off William Forsythe as a vengeful sheriff, Leslie Easterbrook standing in for House's Karen Black, and Geoffrey Lewis and Priscilla Barnes as members of a C&W band who fall into the Fireflys' trap). Ushering in what seems like a redneck movie revival, Rejects will make trash connoisseurs want to see what Zombie does next. (1:49) 1000 Van Ness. (Chun)

The Dukes of Hazzard Descended from the TV show that ripped off '70s yee-haw movie hits (Smokey and the Bandit, Every Which Way But Loose) which in turn had lifted from drive-in cheapies (Eat My Dust, etc.), this is genially lowbrow entertainment that could've been less faithful to its sources' original dumbness. Bo (Seann William Scott) and Luke (Johnny Knoxville) are the dirt-road-tearin', moonshine-deliverin', barfight-pickin', Sheriff (James Roday) enragin', Boss Hogg (Burt Reynolds) bedevilin' Duke boys. The Barbie-like Jessica Simpson is their cuz Daisy, filling out her role's skimpy costume requirements but proving that just being dumb isn't the best requisite for playing dumb. (Her funniest line is in the press kit, wherein she enthuses that she and supporting player Willie Nelson are "like musical soulmates.") Jay Chandrasekhar directs handily, though the movie could have used some of the anything-for-a-laugh recklessness that marked his two prior Broken Lizard features (Super Troopers, Club Dread). If the amusing-but-never-all-that-funny tone reminds you of last year's similar retread Starsky and Hutch, that may be because John O'Brien wrote the just-OK scripts for both. Knoxville and Scott are a good team; the latter is maniacally inspired at times, despite his mediocre material; and some of the car stunts are pretty dang cool. Other major plusses are few, but if your expectations are low enough, this ain't a bad way to spend a summer night. (1:37) Century Plaza, Century 20, Kabuki, 1000 Van Ness. (Harvey)

The Edukators If you've ever attended the Berlin and Beyond Film Festival, you may have noticed the German penchant for putting anarchist youth at the center of fairly mainstream entertainments. In a positive way, too. This would be hugely refreshing, particularly to American audiences, if it weren't for the fact that these exercises inevitably end up reducing radical left activism to just another escapist fashion statement, trendy and shallow as a multiculti Gap ad. Case in point: Hans Weingartner's The Edukators, a home-turf hit that was this year's Berlin and Beyond opener at the Castro Theatre. The film centers on Jan (Daniel Brühl of Goodbye Lenin), Peter (Stipe Erceg) and Jule (Julia Jentsch) – note faint Jules and Jim echo – close friends and shape-shifting ménage. They break into bourgeois homes and rearrange the furniture, leave-your-days-are-numbered slogans on walls, etc., all to undermine the complacency with which the relatively rich go on ignoring the poor. But when one specifically targeted homeowner (Burghart Klaussner), a former radical himself, shows up mid-ransacking, the trio stupidly kidnaps him. This isn't an especially original idea – perhaps the first Hollywood attempt to go "counterculture," 1967's The Happening, had a very similar premise. The Edukators gets more humanly involving as it precedes, but it remains gimmicky, glib, and too slick for a movie that's supposed to be about age-class political divisions and disillusion. (2:07) Opera Plaza. (Harvey)

*Enron: The Smartest Guys in the Room When the Enron scandal hit, it grabbed enough headlines to outrage even non-Wall Street types. But if the reasons behind the company's spectacular collapse still seem kinda enigmatic – err, something about the stock market, and, like, shady accounting practices? – Alex Gibney's excellent doc Enron: The Smartest Guys in the Room offers clear, damning explanations. With a clever pop soundtrack keeping the pace, Gibney charts Enron's rise by delving into the psyches of charismatic company heads Ken Lay and especially Jeff Skilling; he also expounds on Enron's shady business tactics, which included banking on projected (and ultimately "imaginary") profits, firing analysts who disagreed with Enron brass, stashing debts in offshore companies, masterminding the California energy crisis (and therefore contributing to the election of the Governator), etc. Among the film's many engaging interviewees is Fortune magazine reporter and author Bethany McLean, who dared – during the boom years – to ask how exactly Enron made its billions. The answer – a mixture of hope, misguided faith, and sinister financial magic – turns out to be just as compelling as how exactly Enron lost its billions. (1:49) Opera Plaza. (Eddy)

Fantastic Four Neither totally offensive (Daredevil) nor totally awesome (Spider-Man 2), this serviceable comic book movie plays like a less-exciting X-Men, with a quartet of astronauts (and one villain) transformed from regular (if photogenic) humans to superpowered freaks of nature. (If the powers seem familiar, you've no doubt seen The Incredibles, a note-by-note homage to the Marvel quartet.) It takes half the movie for everyone's abilities to manifest. The remainder consists of tedious infighting: Stretchy science geek Mr. Fantastic (Ioan Gruffudd) tries to appease the I-wanna-be-normal-again desires of the superstrong, superfugly Thing (Michael Chiklis); the occasionally invisible Susan Storm (Jessica Alba) longs to rekindle her relationship with Mr. Fantastic; Susan's brother Johnny (Chris Evans) uses his Human Torch-ness to amplify his athletic pursuits, personal fame, and female conquests; and evil metal god Doctor Doom (Julian McMahon) slinks around plotting the downfall of the Four. Every bit of conflict – not to mention widespread destruction of New York City property – springs from the whims of the five main characters, none of whom are actually all that fantastic. Same goes for the ho-hum special effects. (1:50) Century Plaza, Century 20. (Eddy)

Happy Endings Proving again that she was the only cast member of Friends with hidden talent, Lisa Kudrow steals writer-director Don Roos's Happy Endings with her gift for playing un-Phoebe-like embittered cynics. This homage to the lighter side of family dysfunction runs in the same vein as a previous Kudrow triumph, Roos's The Opposite of Sex. This time Roos lets loose his clever dialogue on a larger ensemble cast, all of whom are game for the script's shadings of self-absorption. A wannabe filmmaker (Jesse Bradford) tries to blackmail Mamie (Kudrow) about a child she once gave up for adoption; her stepbrother Charley (Steve Coogan) and his partner, Gil (David Sutcliffe), become convinced that their lesbian friends lied about not using Gil's sperm donation, since their baby is a dead ringer for him. Meanwhile, young, closeted Otis (Jason Ritter) loses his pretend girlfriend (Maggie Gyllenhaal) to his wealthy dad (Tom Arnold). Roos gives all his characters at least the hint of complexity, no doubt helped by the sarcastic, explanatory subtitles he places next to the action as a form of running commentary. (2:10) Embarcadero. (Koh)

*Howl's Moving Castle Don't miss this latest fantastic fantasy from Japanese director Hayao Miyazaki (Spirited Away), an early and deserving contender for next year's Best Animated Feature Oscar. Howl's Moving Castle has already grossed a kajillion dollars overseas, and should add to its haul with Pixar and Disney overseeing the English-language release. In a quaint village surrounded by vast fields ("Nothing out there but witches and wizards," a character remarks matter-of-factly), a young hatmaker named Sophie (voiced by Emily Mortimer) is turned into an elderly woman (Jean Simmons) at the whim of a vain witch (Lauren Bacall). To break the spell, Sophie befriends Howl (Christian Bale) – an alluring wizard with problems of his own – and ends up moving into his titular home, a rattling contraption that strides about on spindly legs and is powered by Howl's friendly fire demon (Billy Crystal). A love story, an enchanted scarecrow, a potent antiwar message, and the immortal line "I see no point in living if I can't be beautiful!" – this gorgeous movie's got it all, and then some. (1:40) Grand Lake, Shattuck (Shattuck shows both dubbed and subtitled versions). (Eddy)

*Hustle and Flow 'What are you going to do with your life?" small-time Memphis pimp DJay (Terrence Howard, in a memorable performance) asks his top girl, Nola (Taryn Manning), as they wait in DJay's sweaty car for the next john to happen along. DJay may be addressing Nola, but it's really a question he's posing to himself. Hope blesses the hopeless after a chance encounter with DJay's old pal Key (Anthony Anderson), a recording engineer who's being slowly stifled by the middle-class blues. With Key's help, aspiring rapper DJay decides to record a demo, aiming to get the finished product into the hands of Skinny Black (Ludacris), a Memphis local who's hit the hip-hop big time. Written and directed with gritty élan by Craig Brewer, Hustle and Flow vividly illustrates the joy of the creative process (and with it, the revival of dusty dreams), even as it's punctured by bitter doses of reality. That MTV Films is distributing this Sundance Film Festival hit is no surprise; it's definitely a crowd-pleaser, even as it dips into cliché near the end. (1:44) Century 20, 1000 Van Ness, Presidio, Shattuck. (Eddy)

The Island Suturing together the DNA of Logan's Run with a stand of The Matrix, and spit-shined and sprinkled with enough product placements, twisted metal, concrete rubble, and broken glass to decorate a disaster flick as conceived by a luxury automaker, The Island might be considered director Michael Bay's finest moment, unless you have a soft spot for Bad Boys. Giving '70s-era hope-I-die-before-I-get-old, fear-of-a-youthful-planet storyline a nice hard twist toward the bioengineered future, The Island centers around the glamorous dreams and seemingly glam, charmed existence of Lincoln Six-Echo (Ewan McGregor) and Jordan Two-Delta (Scarlett Johansson), sexless hotties who wear all-white jumpsuits and live a clean, controlled existence indoors among many of their kind, protected from a mysteriously contaminated exterior world, and given hope by a lottery that promises to deliver them to the Island, the last uncontaminated place on Earth, where they can cavort freely (i.e., reproduce). But there's trouble in paradise once Lincoln questions givens and thinks thoughts that don't seem to belong to him. The pair's supposedly hygienic existence really boils down to a multibillion-dollar test-tube farm, or better, ghetto, because they're clones who are being bred for genetically on-point organ harvest, the property of wealthy sponsors. The likable McGregor and Johansson do their best to add some "humanity" to the humongous bang-up mechanism of The Island, which throws in a half dozen explosions where one would do. And Bay's inevitable glamour shots of vehicles and their star drivers – most noticeably of Johansson, looking voluptuous and pouty in super-slo-mo, even as she goes to her bitter harvest – can be annoying, though here a case can be made for their inclusion, when the newly escaped Jordan ends up staring at a giant, real Calvin Klein fragrance ad starring Johansson, or rather her "sponsor." Omigod, Honey, we forgot to sell our bodies to the marketplace. (2:12) Century 20, Kabuki, 1000 Van Ness. (Chun)

*Machuca Relying on a claim by the adolescent Silvana (Manuella Martelli) that "kids and drunks never lie," director Andrés Wood recounts the story of the year preceding "Chile's September 11" from her perspective. Loosely based on Wood's own recollection of the events surrounding Pinochet's coup, Machuca spends considerable time delineating the complexities of class division in Salvador Allende's Chile. At St. Patrick's, a prestigious Catholic boys' school in the heart of Santiago, Pedro Machuca (Ariel Mateluna) enrolls on scholarship, eventually bridging class and cultural divides to befriend upper-middle-class Gonzalo (Matias Quer). The two navigate the rocky landscape that temporarily unites their worlds, and must come to terms with the irreconcilabilities of their experiences as the world around them unravels and everyone is forced to choose a side. According to Wood, Machuca is the first film to retell the events of this period made by someone who actually lived through them, and the results unearth an emotional reality of a unique revolutionary period in world history. (1:55) Shattuck. (Odes)

Mad Hot Ballroom Amid the cheers of classmates, 11-year-old Dominican immigrant Wilson leads a rumba so effortlessly smooth it stuns a dance judge into howls of disbelief. Framed as Spellbound-meets-ballroom dancing, director Marylin Agrelo's documentary Mad Hot Ballroom tracks the mandatory ballroom programs at three New York City schools as the classes prep for competition. The film is highly entertaining when it spotlights the contrast between the elegant art form and the age of the kids, who are still squirmy when faced with touching the opposite sex. But no matter how clumsily they spin each other around, by performing a grown-up dance, these children visually embody their elders' inflated hopes that they will become "young ladies and gentlemen," à la a different era. The sentiment is catching for the audience too, in part because the kids are sooo damned adorable. Ballroom captures a range of children's perspectives instead of individual stories – a strategy that weakens the film a bit. But Mad Hot Ballroom is exuberant, fun, and worth it for anyone who loves to dance. (1:50) Four Star, Opera Plaza, Shattuck. (Koh)

*March of the Penguins Pity the emperor penguin. His name is glorious, but his lot in life – as incredulously documented by Luc Jacquet and narrated with morbid amusement by Morgan Freeman – is one of unrelenting duty and sacrifice. If social Darwinists love the traditional top-of-the-food-chain tale, only a true evolutionary thinker can really appreciate this one. Or a working parent. March of the Penguins has less in common with French adventures into animal kingdoms – Microcosmos, Winged Migration – than it does with the more moralizing cultural work of, say, Robert Flaherty. But it's still got to be the most beautifully filmed animal story of the year, in one of the landscapes most endangered by rapacious humanity: gorgeous mile after mile of frozen earth, with pastel skyscapes, brutal storms, and line after line of amazing, tuxedoed birds, devotedly marching in formation. (1:20) Albany, Century Plaza, Century 20, Clay, Empire, Piedmont, Smith Rafael. (Gerhard)

*Me and You and Everyone We Know With numerous grants, a few Whitney Biennials, a Sundance Institute Fellowship, and one Cannes Film Festival Camera D'Or prize, Miranda July might just be the crossover figure of the moment, and I can't say I'm surprised. What is surprising is how much of her "crazy, fantastic" (to quote from her short video The Amateurist) worldview she's managed to maintain in a more mainstream context, successfully juggling crowd-pleasing vignettes with nervier ones to create a winning film. To be sure, the thudding weight of Sundance groupthink sometimes drags at the edges of Me and You and Everyone We Know, threatening to turn the movie's oddballs into a sub-Solondz peanut gallery. But her levity prevails, even if at times other people in the movie seem to be echoing the amazement philosophies of July's character, Christine Jesperson. Christine falls for shoe salesman Richard (John Hawkes), though Richard's still burned – quite literally, in fact – from a recent separation. When Richard lashes out, it's at Christine's tendency to embellish the details of everyday existence, a near-ritualistic practice that permeates the movie itself. On their own, July suggests, life's everyday signposts aren't enough; they need to be messed with, scrawled on, and reimagined. (1:30) Act I and II, Lumiere. (Huston)

*Mr. and Mrs. Smith The rumored real-life love connection between Mr. and Mrs. Smith's stars, Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie, adds an extra layer of intrigue to Mr. and Mrs. Smith – potentially luring audiences who might otherwise brush off the film as True Lies redux. Which it is, essentially, sexing up the spies-in-suburbia angle with jazzy direction by Doug Liman (The Bourne Identity, Swingers). The movie opens with the Smiths in marriage counseling, where he can't even remember how long they've been hitched ("five or six years"). The dull routine of daily life disappears once it's revealed that both Smiths are actually top-secret assassins. Inevitably, these ruthless executioners must battle each other, symbolically wreck their tasteful abode, and realize, with sudden clarity, they really do love each other. At last, they can finally be a fully functioning couple – just in time to face off with their angry, armed-to-the-teeth employers. Though the film's explosion-heavy final third runs a little long, Mr. and Mrs. Smith puts both Pitt and Jolie to ideal use, mixing action-hero antics with slinky dance numbers. US Weekly, Star, and all the other tabloids ain't lying – Brangelina's got chemistry to spare. (2:20) Galaxy. (Eddy)

*Murderball "We're not going for a hug, we're going for a fucking Gold Medal" says one Team USA member in this documentary about quadriplegic rugby, differentiating the dead-serious athletic competition of the Paralympics from the give-these-kids-a-hand events of the Special Olympics. (Some well-intentioned soul at a party had mistakenly congratulated him on attending the latter – the last time she made that mistake, no doubt.) At first impression the Sundance hit feels as pumped-up and potentially obnoxious as its leading protagonists. The latter (most notably Team USA spokesman Mark Zupan and Joe Soares, a sorehead who responded to his aged-out team cutting by turning "Benedict Arnold" as Team Canada's new coach) are type A-for-Asshole über-jocks, in your face and up your arse. However, we soon get to glean other sides to their personalities, particularly the ones that emerge when they're not on court driving customized wheelchairs into each other like little gladiator chariots. In the end, Murderball has a lot to say about able-bodied and differently-abled life, the huge difficulties of forced transition from one to the other, and why man like sport good. (1:26) Lumiere, Shattuck. (Harvey)

Must Love Dogs Though Must Love Dogs follows the date-movie formula to the letter – the couple meets, falls in love, mistakenly splits up, then ends up living happily ever after – occasional witty flashes help the predictability go down a little easier. Also on the plus side, Gary David Goldberg (who adapted his screenplay from Claire Cook's novel) directs a top-notch cast: Diane Lane stars as a recently divorced teacher frustrated by the single life – and the well-intentioned matchmaking forced upon her by her huge Irish-Catholic family (including Elizabeth Perkins and Christopher Plummer). Her most promising beau is played by a vaguely creepy John Cusack; imagine a melancholy, near-midlife crisis Lloyd Dobler, with "nervous talking thing" still intact. Still, that second-chance love will grace this Internet-matched pair is never once in question – nor is the fact that a movie called Must Love Dogs will feature plenty of adorable canine reaction shots. (1:28) Century Plaza, Century 20, Kabuki, 1000 Van Ness, Oaks, Orinda, Presidio. (Eddy)

Occupation: Dreamland "What if this was my home back in Chicago?" second-guesses one of the soldiers profiled in Occupation: Dreamland, a vérité look at the Iraq war by informally embedded filmmakers Garrett Scott and Ian Olds (Cul de Sac: A Suburban War Story). Colorful language (the phrase "fuckin' Republicans" is muttered at least once) and cynical humor help the Army's 82nd Airborne deal with the daily perils of volatile Fallujah, circa the tense winter of 2004. The ongoing war has already inspired several docs – and at least one narrative television show, coming soon to the FX Network – but Dreamland makes itself memorable by keeping the focus on its regular-guy subjects (including one whose premilitary life included a stint in a death metal band). When it captures more political moments, Dreamland is never less than honest, as when one soldier opts not to "bash the fuckin' administration on camera" – or at a meeting where weary squad members are apprised of their "reenlistment options." (1:18) Roxie. (Eddy)

*Or (My Treasure) From the "as if being a teenager wasn't hard enough" files, Or is a social-realist look at contemporary, working class Israeli life. Or, played by Dana Igvy – who deservedly won an Israeli Oscar for best actress – is a high school student trying to cope with hormonal changes while washing enough dishes so that she and her mother, Ruthie (Ronit Elkabetz), can keep their apartment. Mom is a longtime prostitute and has difficulty committing to another, even less glamorous trade. Or tries to convince her that anything would be better than walking the streets but soon endures frustrations that provide her a bleak picture of the class- and gender-defined world that led her mother down her current path. Israeli director Keren Yedaya defines herself as an activist filmmaker and caused a stir by making public statements decrying her government's atrocities against Palestinians when Or won the Camera D'Or at 2004's Cannes Film Festival. Even though it speaks more to despair than hope, Yedaya's film lives up to her stated aim. (1:40) Roxie. (Odes)

*The Power of Nightmares Muckrakers and filmmakers love the smoking gun, that single piece of evidence that so tidily ties disparate plot elements together. But they aren't the only ones – the political philosopher at the center of The Power of Nightmares loved Gunsmoke. In this latest by BBC-funded documentarian Adam Curtis (The Century of the Self), whose political analyses have dug up all manner of muck and organized it into elegant essays, we learn that the series was the favorite of Leo Strauss, the seminal figure of the neoconservative movement who influenced the likes of Donald Rumsfeld and Paul Wolfowitz. Curtis uses only a single photo of Strauss throughout his three-part series, and he doesn't tire of using the tried-and-true zoom to indicate some fundamentally ambiguous evil lurking within that photo. But he doesn't have to: The many Strauss apprentices are scary enough as they speak of their global agenda to the British interview crew. Curtis's now-signature style of "illustrated journalism" lifts off from the talking heads, adding essential visual critique and at times even comedy to the film's sober political assessments. This time, he focuses on the neoconservative and Islamist movements through the past half century, arguing that both emerged from the same fear of moral weakness. (3:00) Roxie. (Gerhard)

*Rize Photographer and MTV video director-turned-documentarian David LaChapelle's Rize privileges Watts over Hollywood. Or, to borrow a linguistic fusion used by someone in the movie, it brings the two together to form Hollywatts. An exploration of new urban dance styles, Rize has greater kinetic energy and visual splendor than you're likely to find in this season's big-budget blockbusters. LaChapelle's framework is simple: He moves back and forth between personal story lines and adrenaline-pumping performance sequences, building toward a climactic stadium showdown between the House of Clown, led by pioneering dancer and neighborhood activist Tommy the Clown, and the newer wave of dancers – Krumpers – that have emerged from his influence. The dancers – in particular, a powerhouse named Miss Prissy – are amazing, from 300-pound-plus Big X to a little girl, all of four years old, throwing her coat on the floor with fierce concentration before wilding out. If a whiff of suspect ethnography lingers, it's because Rize's closest corollary would have to be Jennie Livingston's study of vogueing, Paris Is Burning, which drew accusations of exploitation during its media moment. Livingston's 1989 movie possesses a thoroughness that LaChapelle's, glossing over sexual ambiguity, lacks. But Rize still presents the closest thing to a hero you're likely to find in the multiplex this year – and not just one, but two, three, four, or more of them. (1:25) Four Star, Opera Plaza. (Huston)

Secuestro Express It's another day, another kidnapping for the trio of thugs in writer-director Jonathan Jakubowicz's Secuestro Express, shot entirely in Caracas, Venezuela. Heading home after a night of partying, rich kids Carla (Alias's Mia Maestro) and Martin (Jean Paul Leroux) are snatched by a trio of thugs – Trece (Carlos Julio Molina), Budu (Pedro Perez), and Niga (Carlos Madera) – who quickly telephone the couple's parents with ransom demands. Hours of nonstop craziness follow, with drugs, dirty cops, and equal-opportunity threats of rape (and murder) making Martin and especially Carla wish they'd never gone out that night. Though he's not stingy with violence, Jakubowicz isn't just going for urban exploitation. Class struggles are delineated when the liberal Carla clashes with the snooty Martin, but her self-righteous stance is weakened when one of the crooks points out her expensive dress and tells her she should expect to be hated because "half the city is starving." Caracas native Jakubowicz has a gritty, flashy style – lots of split screens and freeze-frames – and he's also able to work sly humor into his grim story line. (1:26) 1000 Van Ness. (Eddy)

Sky High With all the comic book movies filling theaters these days, it's hard to make room for more superheroes (even pubescent ones) and the convoluted, FX-friendly plots that come with them. Disney's Sky High rides this same shitstorm of cinematic hyperbole but, surprisingly, is kind of likable and doesn't take itself too seriously. Will Stronghold (Michael Angarano), son of the most high-profile action heroes in town, starts his freshman year at Sky High, a school for kids with superpowers. He's promptly put into the sidekick – or "hero support" – class when they find out he's nothing special, but it's only a matter of time before his late-blooming powers make a knockout debut. Teenage high jinks and angst still apply in this boy-saves-school tale, which boasts some funny one-liners and an obnoxious appearance by Bruce Campbell. It's still way too innocent for the real high school crowd, but the ten-to-14-year-old demographic should get a kick out of it. (1:38) Century Plaza, Century 20, Kabuki, 1000 Van Ness, Shattuck. (Kim)

Star Wars: Episode III – Revenge of the Sith Rest assured, Revenge of the Sith makes for a better time at the movies than 1999's Phantom Menace and 2002's Attack of the Clones. Partially, that's because things could not get any worse, but it's also because, after two movies of setting up meaningless characters and subplots, there's nothing left to do but finally get to the meat of the story. Yet the dark side of George Lucas's digital-era filmmaking still looms large throughout; like its kin, Sith unfolds in video game-ready action sequences married to abominable dialogue, with every frame filled with as many childish and distracting CGI creatures as possible. But by the time the much-anticipated lightsaber duel between Obi-Wan Kenobi (Ewan McGregor) and bad seed Anakin Skywalker (Hayden Christensen), a.k.a. Darth Vader, erupts, Sith has managed to conjure up an air of credible space opera (albeit one totally lacking any suspense). By the time we see the revealed emperor and his new apprentice gazing out into space, simultaneously peering into the past and future of the Star Wars chronology, it's tempting to imagine that their evil Empire will mirror Lucas's own: the rise of the soulless blockbuster, the digital actor, and the move to turn cinema into a home theater demo. (2:19) Galaxy. (Macias)

Stealth In the "near future," three elite Navy pilots touch down from their latest exercise in "penetration detonation" to learn there's a new addition to their squad. That the stealth jet Extreme Deep Invader ("EDI" for short, pronounced "Eddie") is run entirely by computer concerns only Ben Gannon (Josh Lucas), apparently the only one who's seen WarGames or 2001: A Space Odyssey. "I got a bad feeling about this plane," Gannon tells his commanding officer, Capt. George Cummings (Sam Shepard). The movie may be called Stealth, but the script is thuddingly obvious. Director Rob Cohen (The Fast and the Furious, XXX) knows how to film things going fast, but he's still a few notches below gourmet cheesemaker Michael Bay. Stealth is corny, full of explosions, and boasts some of the prettiest people ever to fill out military uniforms, but it's missing that extra coating of the ridiculous – an Aerosmith theme song, Steve Buscemi as a pivotal creep, etc. – to elevate its action-movie machinations to Armageddon levels. Thus lacking, Stealth must settle for being a middle-of-the-road go-boom movie that samples from cinema classics past – if you consider Top Gun a classic. (2:00) Century Plaza, Century 20, Kabuki, 1000 Van Ness. (Eddy)

*War of the Worlds Semi-deadbeat dad and dockworker Ray (a Tom Cruise so manly-man at first that he seems to be performing in a beer commercial, not playing a character) is forced to mind his two kids for the weekend while his ex-wife and her much-improved new husband visit relatives in Boston. Teenage Robbie (Justin Chatwin) is angry; 10-year-old Rachel (Dakota Fanning) is a peacemaker. Thank god something soon happens to shut their argumentative yaps: alien invasion. Faithful to H.G. Wells in essence, if not in narrative specifics, Steven Spielberg's film – from a script by David Koepp – is one long, panicked, every-man-for-himself flight from near-inescapable catastrophe, as the terrifyingly well-equipped space visitors prove eager and able to wipe out human life worldwide. The angry criticisms that have been directed at this movie are a little surprising, because its lean, mean through-line cuts through most of the stupidity and flab that have made nearly every other summer fantasy-action "blockbuster" of late a numbing experience. Not that there aren't problems: Screamin' Dakota has become such a precocious little actress that I'm not sure she can pass as a normal child anymore; and as usual, Spielberg can't resist caving in to schmaltz at the end, though mercifully this time it's just a puddle-of, not an ocean (à la A.I., Schindler's List, and so on). And let's face it – Tom Cruise's Everyman credibility is at a low, low ebb right now. But by current popcorn standards, War is admirably crisp, harrowing, and in firm control of (rather than overwhelmed by) its spectacular FX. (1:57) Century 20, Kabuki, 1000 Van Ness. (Harvey)

*Wedding Crashers Frat Packers Owen Wilson and Vince Vaughn star as divorce mediators John and Jeremy, best buds who live for "wedding season": that magical time of year filled with free drinks and eager, easy female targets. Conflict arises when John begins to regret his sleazy, playboy ways – though he allows Jeremy to talk him into crashing "the Kentucky Derby of weddings," a high-society affair where the father of the bride is US Treasury Secretary William Cleary (Christopher Walken). Further conflict presents itself when John falls for the maid of honor, Claire Cleary (Rachel McAdams) – and Jeremy becomes trapped by his all-too-successful wooing of Claire's nutty sister, bridesmaid Gloria (Isla Fisher). Like most romantic comedies, Wedding Crashers' plot throws zero curveballs. However, it's got many more laughs than most (Vaughn, talking faster than a used-car salesman on speed, gets almost all of funniest lines), and winning performances by McAdams (sweet but soulful) and Fisher (adorably terrifying) help balance the film's sexist premise. (1:59) Century Plaza, Century 20, Grand Lake, Kabuki, 1000 Van Ness, Orinda. (Eddy)

Wheel of Time Werner Herzog's quietly detailed look at the Kalachakra initiation, a ritual to ordain Tibetan Buddhist monks, is a doc that even nonspiritual types can appreciate. The filmmaker's occasionally droll voice-over guides the viewer through "the most eagerly awaited event for the faithful," which includes the construction of an intricate sand mandala (the purpose of which is explained by no less than the Dalai Lama himself, briefly interviewed here). The most striking aspect of Wheel of Time is how it captures the devotion of not just the monks, but also the half-million pilgrims who crowd Bodh Gaya, India, for the event. They travel miles and miles on foot – and some do prostrations with every step, laying down on the rocky trail and even in streambeds. Wheel of Time's coverage of the same ritual held months later in Austria is a little less interesting, but it illustrates how Buddhism has spread to the West, as well as offering more time with the Dalai Lama, who presides over the ceremony there. (1:20) Smith Rafael. (Eddy)

*The Wild Parrots of Telegraph Hill Having moved to San Francisco at the end of the hippie era to become a professional musician, Mark Bittner never realized that goal. Instead, he belatedly found an alternate raison d'être, feeding and studying the colorful tropical parrots – originally abandoned or escaped pets who proved adaptable to this cooler climate – which often roosted on his doorstep in his North Beach neighborhood. Distinguishing all 40-odd birds by markings or behavior, he gave them each a name and ingratiated himself enough to be able to hand-feed them. When the landlords who've allowed him to live rent-free decide to remodel their property, he must move on. This is no small crisis, since Bittner has never held a "real" job, nor does he have any contingency plans. Veteran local filmmaker Judy Irving's beautifully shot documentary balances surprisingly engrossing aviary insights with rather poignant human ones, arriving at a charming portrait of the kind of mild dropout eccentricity that the world (and even San Francisco) barely tolerates anymore. (1:13) Four Star, Opera Plaza. (Harvey)

Rep picks

*'The Films of Louis Malle' Ten years after his premature death at age 63, French cum international director Louis Malle remains a bit of an enigma – not clearly part of a movement (though he emerged alongside the Nouvelle Vague generation), restless in subject choices, disinterested in genre or commercialism (except when he wasn't), maddeningly uneven, and yet responsible for numerous memorable films. This two-week Balboa Theatre retrospective captures the breadth of a wholly unpredictable career. There are his controversial arthouse smashes about, you know, sex (1958's The Lovers, 1971's Murmur of the Heart); two exceptional World War II dramas (Lacombe, Lucien and Au Revoir les Enfants); his best-known American-set films (Pretty Baby, Atlantic City, My Dinner with Andre); and the six-hour Phantom India, the most imposing among his many documentary projects. Among the lesser-seen features getting rare revival here are 1967's period caper flick The Thief of Paris, with Jean-Paul Belmondo; 1975's Lewis Carroll-inspired surreallism Black Moon; and two with all-time Gallic It Girl Brigitte Bardot – the introspective A Very Private Affair (1961) and very extroverted Viva María! (1965), in which she and Jeanne Moreau add gams, chanteusery, and their own chaos to the Mexican Revolution. Balboa. (Harvey)

*This Divided State Say what you will about Michael Moore – and there are complaints to be lodged against W's most enthusiastic media opponent – but the man knows how to polarize a room, a state, or in this case, a college campus in the heart of Utah. Utah Valley State College student body leaders Jim Bassi and Joe Vogel saw it as sort of ho-hum thing, inviting a speaker who might engage the student population in politics as the 2004 election approached. Little did they know that a wealthy right-wing neighbor of the school, Kay Anderson, would use what he saw as a threatening and damnable abuse of power as a provocation to try to ruin their lives. Twenty-five-year-old director and writer Steven Greenstreet, who appears to be both liberal and a committed Mormon, follows the personalities and the fiery debate over free speech that precedes Moore's appearance on campus. For those who prefer a facile red-blue vision of the US., Greenstreet's doc is a good challenge – there are some sturdy activists in Mormon country, some who not only favor the Bill of Rights, but oppose Bush's war and everything he stands for. (1:28) Victoria. (Odes)