The Wrap Up ...
Smokin' Aces	I suppose we have Guy Ritchie and Quentin Tarantino to thank for such blood-soaked roller-coaster rides as Smokin' Aces. One supposes it's a story about how every professional assassin in the world goes about collecting a $1 million bounty on a mob informer, who's hiding in plain sight atop a casino in Lake Tahoe. More than any other thing, however, it's a contest to see how much dummy ammunition and pyrotechnics can be expended over the course of 109 minutes, a record previously held by Domino, I believe. Jeremy Piven proves none-too-adept at portraying the oily Las Vegas illusionist, Buddy Aces Israel, who wants one more orgiastic fling before making himself disappear into witness protection. The feds want to keep Israel alive, as much as the mob wants to see him dead. Joe Carnahan has a talent for choreographing mayhem, and Smokin' Aces offers plenty of fiery action. About halfway through, however, the good guys and bad guys morph into one another and you literally need a scorecard to tell them apart. Worse, Israel is so unlikable a character, it's impossible to care whether he lives or dies. I imagine Smokin' Aces will appeal very much to meth heads and aspiring sociopaths. Is that a bad thing? -- Gary Dretzka
Freedom Writers	Just when you think this based--on-real-life story about the heroism of one determined inner-city teacher is about to collapse into a pile of used cliches, it becomes something quite different. Like Stand and Deliver, Freedom Writers relies on the inherent drama of the actual teacher-student dynamic, and resists inventing tired subplots and psychodramas simply to please the note-givers at the studio. Hilary Swank portrays Erin Gruwell, a SoCal English teacher who beat the odds by using journals to unlock her students' creativity and self-esteem. She meets resistance from both the kids and a hide-bound administrator, of course, but the movie isn't about Gruwell's trials and tribulations. It's all about the marathon journey taken by the students, and it's one worth tagging along to see how it ends. April L. Hernandez is very good as the girl caught between honoring her extended family's distorted values and relying on the truth to set herself and a falsely accused classmate free. Excellent in supporting roles are Imelda Staunton, Patrick Dempsey and Scott Glenn. -- Gary Dretzka
Overlord	Does the man dream the machine or the machine dream the man? American-born director Stuart Cooper’s epic, stoic, willfully peculiar Overlord (1975) is a hybrid of fiction and fact, of the Futurist and the post-modern, tracking the preparations of one supremely ordinary 20-year-old soldier, Tom Beddow (Brian Stirner), one Tom among tummies, as he trains to become part of Operation Overlord, or D-Day. What’s most striking about Cooper’s film is the extensive use of archival footage (from 3,000 hours viewed by Cooper from UK's Imperial War Museum) in a jagged yet forceful admixture, such as a montage of sustained aerial views of steam trains being strafed. Is the movie about young Tom or about the entire war effort hurtling toward that assault on the beach? Cooper makes dozens of brilliant juxtapositions that do not jar but awaken the senses, but the movie is elusive, neither Zelig nor Saving Private Ryan, but with worthy parallels to movies like Kevin Brownlow’s It Happened Here and Pontecorvo's Battle of Algiers. Philosophically, it’s more like film essayist Patrick Keiller (London) meeting Stanley Kubrick (and the fictional portions were shot by Kubrick’s favored cinematographer John Alcott). One standout among so many: there's a beautiful shot of Tom writing a letter in a wood, the camera moving back from stands of skinny trees, brightly backlit, the letter being read aloud: “It’s like a part of a machine that grows larger and larger while we get smaller and smaller until there’s nothing left.” Radically, Overlord is a narrative that sees forest and trees. -- Ray Pride
Jonestown: The Life & Death Of The People's Temple	After the assassinations of such formidable forces for change as Robert and John Kennedy, Martin Luther King and Malcolm X, activists on the left side of the political spectrum were left scrambling for leaders who were intelligent, articulate, charismatic and not intimidated by the assault troops of a newly energized Republican Party. The void, lest we forget, was filled by such silver-tongued sociopaths as the Rev. Jim Jones, whose racially inclusive message disguised a messianic lust for control. Jonestown: The Life & Death of Peoples Temple describes how members of Jones's San Francisco congregation -- comprised primarily of elderly blacks and disenchanted white liberals -- bought into a vision of utopian communalism so bright it blinded them to the storm clouds gathering on the horizon. It wasn't just needy idealists who swarmed like moths to Jones' flame, however. Politicians saw in Jones a man who not only could appeal to people of diverse racial, economic and educational backgrounds, but who also could be counted on to turn out crowds for rallies and elections. What the hell were these people thinking? Stanley Nelson's heart-breaking documentary offers a glimpse into the minds of otherwise sane people, so desperate to find meaning in their lives they would willingly drink the poison Kool-Aid -- and force it on their children --when the bubble burst on their collective dream. The DVD of this haunting PBS film adds deleted scenes and an interview with Nelson. -- Gary Dretzka More MCN Review ... It all starts with making the point that Jones was, essentially, the Bill Clinton of that generation... the white man who spoke to black people with ease, grace, and remarkable effect. Jones' People's Church was, as defined here, a church that was primarily a black church. And more that that, it was a black empowerment movement.
Bobby	Written and directed by Emilio Estevez, who also plays one of the film's 22 central characters, Bobby is as much a story about a day in the life the landmark Ambassador Hotel, circa 1968, as it is a statement on the assassination and legacy of Robert F. Kennedy. That's probably not what Estevez had in mind, but, now that the Ambassador has been leveled, Bobby actually works reasonably well as an updated version of Grand Hotel, staged on one particularly fateful day in the history of both the hotel and the republic. In its heyday, the Ambassador served as a nexus for several diverse L.A. communities, including Downtown's buttoned-down political crowd, mid-Wilshire's tony business community and Hollywood types who frequented to the Cocoanut Grove to be seen and the secluded bungalows for the opposite purpose. Bobby is dominated by Estevez's reverence for the memory of RFK, or, at least, his near-mythic ability to unite diverse peoples in the service of the common good. By the end of the primary season, Kennedy was a different sort of politician than the one widely considered to be ruthless, vengeful and something of a loose cannon. Although he desperately wanted to be president, RFK was still haunted by the death of his brother. Erring on the side of pragmatism, Kennedy didn't declare his candidacy until Sen. Eugene McCarthy had already cut a path for a bona-fide opponent of the Vietnam War. Bobby wears its heart on its sleeve, assuming archival material from the campaign and family albums will convince viewers of Kennedy's potential. And, had he won, who knows what he might have been able to accomplish … or screw up, for that matter? Because the audience is required to wait for the better part of two hours for the arrival of both the candidate and his assassin -- depicted here as little more than a loner with an itchy trigger finger -- there's plenty of time to get acquainted with a couple of dozen guests, hotel executives, back-of-the-house workers, reporters and lounge lizards, all of whom will gather to hear the candidate's victory speech and be within earshot, at least, of Sirhan Sirhan's attack. Each of the characters represents a thread in fabric of American society in 1968, from purveyors of LSD and boozy broads in beehive hairdos, to slick political operatives and uppity Latinos and blacks. Pulling off such a conceit would be a huge test of any filmmaker's talent, although Robert Altman probably could created something interesting, at least. Estevez' vision reminded me more of Lynda Obst's mini-series The '60s, which tried to stuff an entire generation's collective memory into a 240-minute sweeps "event." Ultimately, for as much time as we're required to spend with the archetypal characters, only a few leave much of an impression. Harry Belafonte, Anthony Hopkins and William H. Macy dominate every scene they're in, while rising-stars Freddy Rodriguez (Six Feet Under) and Shia Le Beouf also demonstrate why they're likely to be around for a while. Otherwise, such marquee talents as Sharon Stone, Helen Hunt, Laurence Fishburne, Christian Slater, Ashton Kutcher, Demi Moore and Martin Sheen all seem to have been doing Estevez a favor by coming in for a few hours of work. Kennedy comes off as a saint --a visitation by the ghost of Marilyn Monroe would have been interesting -- and Sirhan might as well be Arthur Bremer for all we learn about him. That said, however, none of the star turns are embarrassing, and memories of the Ambassador are re-kindled by the attention to detail. Extras include a making-of featurette and interviews with people who were at the hotel on that sad day. -- Gary Dretzka We Didn't Just Hate Bobby to the tune of We Didn't Start The Fire, by Billy Joel CHORUS We didn't just hate Bobby Left our ire burning And our stomachs churning We didn't just hate Bobby Oh we tried to fight it But the film ignited
Major League: Wild Thing Edition Bottom of the Ninth Harvey's Wallbangers: The Story of the 1982 Milwaukee Brewers 1977 New York Yankees World Series: Collectors Edition	When asked to list their all-time favorite baseball movies, players tend to mention one above all the others: Major League. Boys will be boys, and the raucous comedy boasts many of the same attributes as the grandfather of all gross-out, anti-establishment and slob movies, Animal House. Moreover, it recognizes the diverse range of oddball characters who populate the bottom rungs of any sport, and must be molded into a family-like unit before they can hope to win a championship. The Wild Thing Edition arrives with a cover made of artificial turf, under which can be found interviews with Charlie Sheen, Corbin Bernsen, Tom Berenger, Dennis Haysbert and Bob Uecker; a profile of the Hall of Fame announcer, who popularized the phrase, Just a bit outside …; an alternate ending; a tour of Cerrano's locker; and the featurette, A Major League Look at 'Major League.' I wonder why Paramount didn't also throw the two sequels into the package, and do everyone a favor. In Bottom of the Ninth, director Chuck Braverman documents what transpired on and off the field during one minor league team's drive to glory. Like snowflakes, no two baseball teams are the same … each is unique in its own crazy way. Still, the players, coaches and fans of the Triple-A New Jersey Somerset Patriots share the same genetic code as their fictional kinsmen in Major League, Bull Durham and a dozen other baseball films. The host community, too, is representative of most towns in America, where minor-league baseball serves as the primary form of entertainment. Certainly, Bottom of the Ninth is a must-see for any young athlete who dreams of making the show, but has no idea what lies ahead of him before he can gets there. Multi-disc DVD packages such as Harvey's Wallbangers and 1977 New York Yankees World Series are popping up with the same frequency as the Cubs on a losing streak. I mention the two-disc Wallbangers set because, being from Milwaukee, it's the second-closest baseball team to my heart, and Major League Baseball/A&E have yet to do for the 1957 Braves what it's done for the 1977 Yankees and other champions. This collection puts all six games on a separate disc, and throws in the final game of the ALCS, to boot. Fans will also appreciate the player interviews, clubhouse celebrations, trophy presentation and other highlights of their championship season. -- Gary Dretzka
The Doris Day Collection: Vol. 2 In her time, the former Doris Mary Ann Von Kapplehoff was the most popular actress working in Hollywood. The second installment in Warner Home Video's Doris Day Collection adds a half-dozen films made before Doris Day reached that pinnacle. Romance on the High Seas represents her screen debut, and, in it, the former big-band songbird introduced It's Magic. The other titles are My Dream Is Yours, which features a guest appearance by Bugs Bunny and Tweety; On Moonlight Bay and By the Light of the Silvery Moon, both adapted from Booth Tarkington's Penrod Stories; I'll See You in My Dreams, the Gus Kahn biopic in which she co-starred with Danny Thomas; and Lucky Me, with Robert Cummings and Phil Silvers. All were released during Day's seven-year tenure at Warner, 1948 to 1954.The set offers vintage cartoons and shorts, as well as digital upgrades to the audio and visual presentation. -- Gary Dretzka
Payback: The Director's Cut Writer-director Brian Helgeland's hyper-violent adaptation of Donald E. Westlake's The Hunter -- a terrific crime novel that also inspired Point Blank (1967) -- took about the same number of lumps from critics as its protagonist took from the thugs who refused to honor a $70,000 IOU, and lived to regret it. Mel Gibson was suitably uncompromising as the career criminal, Porter (a.k.a., Parker, in the novels Westlake wrote under the pseudonym, Richard Stark), whose sense of personal code demanded he absorb countless physical and mental abuses, rather than absorb the comparatively trivial loss. While critics were pleased to see Gibson play an antihero, the memory of Lee Marvin's unforgettable performance in Point Blank didn't allow for much more in the way of praise. They also were mystified by the haphazard pace and overall untidiness of Helgeland's story, which, compared so unfavorably to his taut and edgy screenplay for L.A. Confidential. It had its moments, to be sure, but Payback was dismissed as a sop to the rabble attracted to mindless violence. The Special Collector's Edition of Payback: The Director's Cut goes a long way towards explaining how Helgeland's original vision was corrupted by second- and third-guessing from Gibson's Icon Entertainment, which had trouble finding a suitable distribution deal. We can appreciate how Porter was re-imagined as mere extension of cocky Martin Riggs, from the Lethal Weapon series. To its great credit, Icon allowed Helgeland to re-visit Payback, and restore much of what was lost in the translation from adult thriller to something sufficiently incendiary and brutal to please the lowest common denominator, while not also alienating Gibson's fan base. The Director's Cut is a better move all-around, and a far more worthy representative of Westlake/Stark's engrossing source material. Special features include a documentary about the film's history, an interview with Westlake, commentary by Helgeland, the featurette Same Story, Different Movie: Creating 'Payback: The Director's Cut' and on-location material. Most so-called director's cut DVDs merely restore the few seconds of sexual thrusting or butchery that were deleted to turn a threatened R-rating into PG-13. Payback, along with Apocalypse Now Redux, demonstrates what can be done when artists and executives take seriously the advantages of digital technology and try to see beyond the economic benefits of shortchanging consumers. -- Gary Dretzka
The Art of Passion Arthur Bjorn Egeli's undistributed melodrama, The Art of Passion (a.k.a., 'Unconditional Love') makes the absolute best of its Cape Cod setting, and is populated by several attractive actors unafraid to pose nude for the sake of art and the intentions of the filmmakers. Hunky Pablo Bryant plays a talented younger painter studying under a strict tutor, who's revered, but for work we never see. As long as the young man follows his mentor's prescribed course, he's golden. Once he lets his heart guide his brush, however, it takes him to places that threaten his relationship with the teacher. The trio of hot women in his orbit act as a sirens, threatening to lead him into hazardous shoals. In fact, they make his journey of discovery only that much more compelling. Movies about artists tend to fail in their depictions of the work and creative process. The Art of Passion offers some very decent painting, but nothing anyone would expect to find hanging in the Venice Biennale. Nor is the acting all that terrific. What saves this indie is the wonderful scenery, appropriate gauzy cinematography and beautiful bodies. For some reason, I couldn't keep images of Summer of '42 from my mind, if only for the beach scenes. The extras expand on the paintings used in the movie and Cape Cod mystique. -- Gary Dretzka
3 Needles Just as Traffic demonstrated how the effects of the drug trade rippled throughout society, here and in Mexico, 3 Needles describes a commonality in the worldwide AIDS crisis. Like Babel, too, the scenery shifts from Montreal, where a porn actor pulls a con job on blood testers; in South Africa, where a nun (Chloe Sevigny) is forced to choose between personal virtue and medical necessity; and in rural China, where the deceit of a black-market opportunist (Lucy Liu) threatens the health of an entire village. -- Gary Dretzka
The Untouchables: Season One, Vol. 1 The Streets of San Francisco: Season 1, Vol. 1 Sweeney Todd: The Director's Cut Murder in Suburbia: Series 2 Sons & Lovers/The Chatterley Affair/The Investigator You wouldn't know to watch it now, but The Untouchables was pretty hot stuff in its day. Based on the memoirs of gang-buster Elliot Ness, the ABC series came under immediate fire from critics and media watchdogs for its willingness to use bullets to punctuate nearly every scene. Naturally, the controversy helped fuel the show's great success here and abroad, where, even today, natives greet visitors from Chicago by mimicking a gangster shooting a machine-gun. Included in this new-to-video package, in addition to 14 first-season episodes, is the original two-part mini-series, The Scarface Mob, which launched the series, complete with short introductions from narrator Walter Winchell and Desi Arnaz. (As the story goes, real Chicago mobsters put a contract out on the head of Desilu Studios over the show's depiction of Italian-Americans and its impact on Mafia operations.) The episodes represent what made The Untouchables such must-see television: a distinctive noir look, incorruptible heroes, legendary villains, dirty cops and politicians, non-stop action, popular guest stars and above-par writing and direction. Never mind that the exploits of Robert Stack and his merry band of hard-boiled G-men bore no relation to the historical record. Among other things, the television Ness eradicated several hoodlums with whom he couldn't possibly have crossed paths, including Ma Barker and George "Bugs" Moran. Brian De Palma's 1987 The Untouchables couldn't stand up to close scrutiny, either, but audiences weren't tuning in for a history lesson. Probably the only thing The Untouchables had in common with The Streets of San Francisco -- also new to DVD, this week -- is the large footprint of executive producer Quinn Martin, who defined how television would stage cop shows for decades to come. In such trademark series as The Fugitive, Cannon and Barnaby Jones, Martin standardized the number of acts, the beats of action per act and the practice of going into a commercial break on cliffhanger. That all would change with Hill Street Blues and other eclectically cast ensemble shows, but mainstream audiences still tend to enjoy knowing America's legal system is in the hands of a familiar actor. In the case of Streets of San Francisco, of course, big-screen veteran Karl Malden played the street-smart, seen-it-all detective stuck with a cocky college-educated rookie, portrayed by Michael Douglas. Although the show didn't break much new ground, Streets of San Francisco was reliably entertaining and its popularity helped both men's careers That great big lug of a man, Ray Winstone (Sexy Beast) is one of many distinguished Brit actors to play the Demon Barber of Fleet Street, a character whose evil transcends the borders separating film, television and the stage, Here, in non-musical form, is the story of a Londoner who was sentenced to 18 years in a Victorian hell-hole for a crime he didn't commit. After being freed, Todd locates his business near the gates of the prison. Next door is a lustful woman who bakes pies that, until the barber's arrival, were lacking a certain key ingredient. Together, they perfected a recipe to die for. The Director's Cut DVD of Dave Moore and Joshua St. Johnston's Sweeney Todd adds material trimmed to meet the demands of a certificate for airing on BBC 1, as well as a background essay. Look for Tim Burton's musical adaptation of Sweeney Todd, starring Johnny Depp and Helena Bonham Carter, to arrive some time in 2008. Murder in Suburbia is a spoke in BBC America's Monday-mystery wheel, a two-hour block that provides as much entertainment per minute as any crime show on American broadcast TV … and, these days, that's saying a lot, actually. The series' protagonists are the young and only slightly hard-boiled police detectives Kate Ash Ashurst and Emma Scribbs Scribbins. Their wise-cracking plays particularly well in the middle-class setting. Among other recent British exports are the 2003 mini-series adaptation of D.H. Lawrence's Sons & Lovers, which is most notable for its faithful renditions of sexual liaisons in the text; Lawrence also figures in the courtroom drama, The Chatterley Affair, which re-enacts the 1960 obscenity trial over Lady Chatterley's Lover, while adding a steamy affair between a pair of jurors; and The Investigator, in which Helen Baxendale portrays a staff sergeant in the Royal Military Police assigned to interrogate suspected lesbians. -- Gary Dretzka
Le Petit Lieutenant Fratricide Hostage Sombre 13 Tzameti Fans of the British mini-series Prime Suspect and other detail-specific police-procedurals will find a lot to like in the French import, Le Petit Lieutenant. Writer/director Xavier Beauvois examines the day-to-day routines of a group of Paris detectives, as they endeavor to solve the mystery behind the murder of a Polish immigrant. Unlike most police dramas from Hollywood, the suspense in Le Petit Lieutenant is sustained absent car chases, ethical dilemmas over accepting bribes or resorting to brutality, and good-cop/bad-cop interrogations. The titular stars of the film are Jalil Lespert, a buff young actor of Algerian desent, and the Nathalie Baye, who easily recalls Helen Mirren in Prime Suspect. He plays a gung-ho recent graduate of the police academy, while she plays a veteran investigator coping with personal losses and alcoholism. For various reasons, she takes a maternal interest in protecting the overly ambitious detective from making rookie mistakes. When he does inevitably trip on his good intentions, it creates a situation that haunts the squad for the rest of the film's 101 minutes. There isn't much in Le Petit Lieutenant that would satisfy an action junkie, but true fans of the genre will greatly appreciate the change of pace Beauvois provides. I'd love to see a sequel.. In Fratricide, the Turkish-born writer-director Yilmaz Arslan describes how unforgiving life can be for immigrants -- here, two Kurds and two Turks -- who travel to Germany to escape ancient conflicts and make money for their distant families. Scorned by the locals, and targeted by rival exiles, the boys get caught up in the same cycle of violence crushing their homelands and other cities where the contrast between rich and poor is so painfully obvious. It's rough stuff, but Arslan's technique is typical of filmmakers from emerging nations who have little time for amusements and diversionary star-turns. Hostage (Omiros) was inspired by an incident that took place in northern Greece, in which a young Albanian immigrant hijacked a bus and demanded that he be given free passage to his homeland and a a huge ransom, in return for the safe return of his hostages. The bitterness toward Albanians working in Greece adds mightily to the tension inherent in the dramatic standoff with police. Another crime movie that failed to gain a distribution outlet in the U.S. is Philippe Grandrieux's totally creepy portrait of serial killer, Sombre. This definitely falls under the category of arthouse fare, as much of Grandrieux' story unfolds unaccompanied by words or music. Also off-putting is the bizarre attempt by one of his hostages to get into the head of the killer, even after her friend has been viciously attacked. In 13 Tzameti, first-time French-Georgian filmmaker George Babluani gives us another story of an immigrant who gets more than he bargained for in his adopted home. After being cheated out of a paycheck, a young Georgian steals information that he thinks will lead him to a much better job. Instead, he's directed to a house of horrors right out of the The Deer Hunter and Eyes Wide Shut. Babluani's decision to use black-and-white film adds a sense of foreboding that's palpable. -- Gary Dretzka
Phantasm/Phantasm III/ Survival Quest Albert Fish Dead and Deader Don Coscarelli's name on the credits of a horror movie ensures it will grab the immediate attention of devoted fans of the horror genre. His Phantasm and Beastmaster franchises promised and delivered unique thrills to an audience with an insatiable lust for ever-more bizarre villains -- mutant dwarves, anyone? -- and new ways to torture teenagers. Phantasm and Phatasm III have been re-released with all sorts of bonus features. Made in 1989, Survival Quest pits young adventurers against a pack of paramilitary thugs in a remote stretch of mountain wilderness. The DVD version has been cleaned up and restored to its original design, but what's more interesting is the appearance of future stars Catherine Keener, Dermot Mulroney and Lance Henriksen. John Borowski, who seems comfortable in the world of serial killers, employs the docu-drama format to paint a portrait of a real-life Hannibal Lector. During the Depression, New Yorker Albert Fish revealed himself to be a killer and torturer of children. And, yes, the 60-year-old fiend dined on his victims' dead flesh, as well. Even so, he was judged sane enough to stand trial and be executed in the electric chair. Borowski's debut film was H.H. Holmes: America's First Serial Killer, so it only made sense that Albert Fish would soon follow. The DVD adds interviews with experts on the subject and curators of memorabilia associated with heinous criminals. Zombies provide both the horror and comedy in Patrick Dinhut's Dead and Deader. In it, Dean Cain plays an American Special Forces commando whose Asian mission ends after he's bitten by a beetle carrying a zombie virus. Oddly, the soldier is rendered only semi-undead, which allows him to go to war against his former buddies, all of whom have been turned into ghouls and are advancing on the American public. - Gary Dretzka