The Wrap Up ...
The Last Mimzy: Infinifilm Edition	As aspiring physicians are taught in med school, First, do no harm. The same precept ought to apply for movie-studio executives considering adaptations of important book and remakes of classic movies. What possible good was served, for example, by turning the title of Lewis Padgett's 1943 time-travel story Mimsy Were the Borogroves into an almost meaningless, The Last Mimzy? Padgette's title, at least, benefited from its origins in Lewis Carroll's nonsense-poem, Jabberwocky, and sci-fi fans' willingness to sample books with bizarre names. Today's audiences, however, are notoriously reluctant to embrace movies whose titles require an asterisk to understand. If director/producer/mogul Robert Shaye had spent less time worrying about product-placement deals, and more on the bigger picture, his very entertaining The Last Mimzy might have grossed more than $21 million at the box office. In it, a brother and sister discover a mysterious box of toys while playing on the beach of their family's weekend home. It isn't long before the toys reveal themselves to be messages in a bottle from a future civilization slowly dying from centuries of accumulated pollutants. Simply by playing with these magic stones, a shape-shifting crystal and stuffed rabbit nicknamed Mimzy, the Wilder kids are transformed from average students into geniuses whose playful experiments nearly shut down the power grid of the Pacific Northwest. Government officials fear the blackouts may be part of a terrorist plot and use powers granted them after 9/11 to crash the kids' party. Naturally, the feds' unforced entry into their lives freaks out Mom and Dad (Joely Richardson, Timothy Hutton). It also puts a roadblock in front of the kids' open-minded science teacher and his New Age-y fiancé (Rainn Wilson, from The Office; Kathryn Hahn, of Crossing Jordan) who are the first to understand the vast implications of their' astro-physical noodling. Shaye's film probably owes as much to Steven Spielberg and ET, as it does to Padgett's creation. Screenwriters Bruce Joel Rubin and Toby Emmerich have nicely updated the source material, minus the usual dumbing-down required by studio note-makers. Instead, their story inserts much au courant green iconography and sneak attacks on the Patriot Act. Despite what must have been a modest special-effects budget, the CGI enhancements are fresh, fun, strategically placed and visually fascinating. If ever a movie cried out to be re-distributed in a 3-D version, it is The Last Mimzy. The Infinifilm Edition comes loaded with interactive activities and experience-extenders.   -- Gary Dretzka
After the Wedding The Page Turner	One of the very best reasons to rent the compelling Danish melodrama After the Wedding -- a finalist in the Best Foreign Language category at this year's Academy Awards -- is to watch the handsome and charismatic Mads Mikkelsen (Casino Royale). Sure, the 46-year-old Copenhagen native also happens to be a world-class actor, but, c'mon, is that why we go to the movies? Director and co-writer Susanne Bier introduces us to Mikkelsen's character, Jacob, while he's making his rounds at a crowded Bombay orphanage … oh, boy, a hunk and a saint, too! Soon, Jacob will reluctantly board a plane to Copenhagen, where he'll solicit funds from a foundation in need of a pet project. Upon his arrival, he's surprised by the insistence of the foundation's benefactor, Jorgen (Rolf Lassgård), to treat him like one of the family … which he is, sort of. To reveal anything more than that one detail would spoil the surprises to follow. Suffice it to say, sharp-eyed viewers will be able to cut to the chase several steps ahead of Jacob, whose ghosts are haunted by ghosts. After the Wedding has enough twists, turns and traumas to qualify as a soap opera. At 120 minutes, there's plenty of time to get acquainted with the various characters and the secrets hidden in their closets. After the Wedding is further distinguished by fine acting, beautiful people and some splendid scenery, including a grand estate around which much of the intrigue unspools. Anyone who misses Alfred Hitchcock and other old-school masters of the psychological thriller ought to check out Denis Dercourt's taut and chilling The Page Turner. It opens on the eve of an important audition for a talented, if apprehensive 10-year-old pianist, Melanie. One of the judges selected by the conservatory is a musician popular enough to be asked for autographs at inopportune times. Unfortunately, one of those moments occurs while Melanie is performing, and the distraction causes her to botch her audition. Instead of begging for another chance, this daughter of hard-working butchers decides to quit her expensive training and give up hopes for a concert career. The next time we meet her, Melanie already is in the process of exacting revenge on her nemesis, whose own career was interrupted by an automobile accident. The rest of the story is best left to the imagination, but, suffice it to say, the drama plays out in a decidedly French manner. -- Gary Dretzka
The Astronaut Farmer Thunderpants	One thing that separates people born in the first half of the 20th Century with those who arrived after the Soviet Union put Sputnik into orbit is an ability to remember when a time when a walk on the moon was as unlikely a prospect as religious fundamentalists declaring war on the United States. In The Right Stuff, Tom Wolfe described how a well-funded alliance of buttoned-down scientists, politicians, generals and ex-Nazi engineers succeeded in turning one of mankind's most enduring dreams into reality, and, in doing so, bureaucratized the wild blue yonder. In the Polish brothers' atypically mainstream The Astronaut Farmer, a former aeronautics engineer and fighter pilot challenges the notion NASA owns all domestic rights to the heavens, by building an Atlas missile on his Texas ranch. As drawn by Billy Bob Thornton, Charles Farmer is at once doggedly determined and pleasantly unassuming ... a world-class dreamer, who could very well have been descended from such mythic airmen as Icarus, Chuck Yeager and the Wright Brothers. Instead of seeking the imprimatur of NASA, or funding by corporate America, the amateur space cowboy stakes the success of his orbital mission on the emotional and strategic support family of his family. Like most of their small-town neighbors, Audrey Farmer (Virginia Madsen) spends most of the movie humoring Farmer's vast conceit, wavering only when he pulls their kids out of school, FBI agents raid the property, credit-card purchases are denied and foreclosure notices received. Mark and Michael Polish don't come right out and say Farmer may be exercising poor judgment by using a wooden barn as a launching pad, but clearly there are limits to idiosyncratic behavior. As much as they want audiences to see their middle-age protagonist as a last vestige of a dying breed of American individualists, it's unlikely they'd willingly send their children (two of whom perform splendidly here) to a school within 50 miles of his potentially combustible spread. Rated PG, The Astronaut Farmer will appeal equally to parents and children. The western landscapes look terrific (northern New Mexico stands in for Texas) and, while there's no mistaking the bad guys, it's nice to see that the townsfolk weren't cut from cardboard patterns of yokels handed out at film schools. It's also worth noting that Bruce Dern, who played a farming astronaut 35 years ago, in Silent Running, appears here as Farmer's father-in-law. Bruce Willis, who's also logged time in cinema space, makes a welcome non-credited appearance, too. The extras include a conversation with astronaut David Scott, a decent making-of featurette and a superfluous bloopers-and-outtake reel. Denied an American theatrical release for reasons that will soon become obvious, Thunderpants tells the inspirational story of a boy who overcomes chronic flatulence by inventing devices to capture the natural gas for the betterment of mankind. What does Pete Hewitt's comedy have to do with The Astronaut Farmer, you might ask? Like Charles Farmer, frequent-farter Patrick Smash dreams of becoming an astronaut. They're realized when NASA learns of a device -- invented by a Smash's friend -- that bottles the powerful flatulence and can used to power rockets into space. None of this is as horrifying as it sounds, but the primary audience for Thunderpants remains teenage boys with low IQ's. -- Gary Dretzka
Puccini for Beginners Wild Tigers I Have Known	In 1995, writer-director Maria Maggenti caught the attention of critics with her debut feature, The Incredibly True Adventure of Two Girls in Love. Despite the girl-meets-girl romance at its core, the story fit comfortably within the parameters established by John Hughes a decade earlier, when teenagers began to take over the nation's multiplexes. Two Girls embraced several key genre touchstones: first kiss; first shtup; rich boy/poor girl; black/white; coming-of-age; and discovering you're not alone in the world. The characters in Puccini for Beginners, while far more experienced in matters of the heart, play the game like amateurs. They're smart, well dressed, culturally astute and open-minded sexually, but clueless when it comes to love. Although Maggenti had at her disposal all the ingredients necessary to create a wonderfully spicy romantic comedy, Puccini for Beginners is surprisingly bland and emotionally inert. It's even difficult to determine who exactly is the protagonist. Elizabeth Reaser's Allegra is a strictly clit-ly New Yorker -- or, so, we're led to believe -- who, having recently been dumped by her girlfriend, finds solace in a clique of gal-pals right out of Sex and the City: The Lesbian Years. Sadly, though, they don't share Allegra's passion for opera and informed conversation. When she finally meets someone who can fill those voids in her social life, it's a college professor of the male persuasion. The ease with which Allegra slips into a sexual relationship with Philip (Justin Kirk, of Weeds) not only disappoints her friends, but it also will be bummer for much of the intend audience for his DVD. Things get complicated when Allegra discovers she had also slept with Philip's longtime girlfriend, Grace (Gretchen Mol) -- heretofore, strictly dick-ly -- and none were the wiser. It's a cute twist, all right. Unfortunately, it shifts the focus of the story from the suddenly bi-sexual Allegra to Philip and Grace, whose relationship is only of peripheral concern to viewers. Chalk this miscue up to poor casting. At this point in their careers, Mol commands the screen quite a bit more than Reasner, and wouldn't have any problem making us believe the depth of her dilemma. It also would have helped if Allegra hadn't been so quick to switch teams, at least temporarily. Nonetheless, the movie looks good and the actors give it their all. Unlike Two Girls, which, for no good reason, was stigmatized by a R-rating, the distributors of Puccini bypassed the MPAA filtration system entirely. Fact is, Puccini contains less actual sex and nudity than most PG-13 films. By contrast, Kissing Jessica Stein is a porno. Cam Archer's provocative coming-out drama, Wild Tigers I Have Known, describes what happens when a lonely 13-year-old boy, Logan, refuses to play the games that consume the time of other post-pubescent junior-high students, and decides to swim in more dangerous waters. Logan's slight stature and androgynous features make him a natural target for the school bullies, who taunt him for being queer. He may well be gay, but, when we meet him, nothing seems written in stone. Ironically, a beating he suffers puts him within the orbit of a star senior-high athlete who's been the subject of one masturbatory fantasy, at least. The older boy, Rodeo Walker, is a much-admired wrestler with deep emotional conflicts of his own. Rodeo's raw sexuality and almost nihilistic take on high school life are right out of the James Dean playbook, and his kindness prompts Logan to test his guardian's willingness to walk on the wild side. Knowing Tigers was exec-produced by Gus Van Sant should help give potential viewers an idea of what to expect here. Archer continually interrupts the film's narrative flow with the kind of visual and tonal gimmicks some will consider lyrical and poetic, while most others will dismiss as pretentious and off-putting. It took a while, but, once I found the rhythm, it felt exactly right. Perhaps it's also worth pointing out that not all viewers will be comfortable with the way Archer's camera lingers on the teenagers, who, at this point in their lives, are more pretty than they are handsome. Indeed, the images recall the homo-erotic ads found in Interview and other magazines fixated on fashion, cosmetics and celebrity. -- Gary Dretzka
You're Gonna' Miss Me	Along with Syd Barrett, Brian Wilson and Peter Green, Texas guitar wizard Roky Erickson was considered to be one of the most prominent acid casualties of the '60s. His band, the 13th Floor Elevators, may not be as well remembered today as Pink Floyd, the Beach Boys and Fleetwood Mac, but its influence on such American rockers as Janis Joplin, Thurston Moore (Sonic Youth), Patti Smith, and Billy Gibbons (ZZ Top) is unquestioned. Today, Erickson is credited with merging middle-American proto-punk garage rock with the psychedelic thunder emanating from scenes thousands of miles from Austin. The band's biggest hit, You're Gonna Miss Me, provides the title for Kevin McAlester's documentation of the rise, fall and various resurrections of Erickson as a musician, psych patient and survivor of his own worst instincts. Also prominent in the drama is Erickson's younger brother, Sumner, a classically trained musician who won an intense legal battle to become to his guardian and finally get him the proper medical care for schizophrenia. You're Gonna Miss Me is something of a horror story, as well, in that it recounts what happened after Erickson decided to avoid a 10-year prison term for possession of a single joint, in 1969, by agreeing to a shorter stay in Rusk State Hospital for the Criminally Insane. While there, doctors chose to temper his eccentricity through three years worth of electroconvulsive therapy and Thorazine. (Where's Michael Moore when you need him?) McAlester's film will be of special interest to fans of The Devil and Daniel Johnston, a documentary about another influential Austin musician who struggled mightily with inner demons. The good news comes in knowing Erickson is back making music and touring. -- Gary Dretzka
Black Snake Moan That Tender Touch Just the Two of Us The Glamorous Life of Sachiko Hanai	Too polished to be camp, and, yet, far too lurid for polite company, Black Snake Moan is trashy enough to rank among the guiltiest pleasures of the still-young century. Even today, Craig Brewer's follow-up to Hustle & Flow would make a wonderful drive-in triple-feature with Thunder Road and Boxcar Bertha. Being 2007, however, drive-ins are an endangered species and purveyors of trash are relegated to the art-house circuit, where John Waters’ flicks inevitably are found. (Unless, like the new Hairspray, they’re sanitized for public consumption.) It explains why Black Snake Moan was pitched first to the Tarantino-worshipping fan-boys at Austin’s Butt-Numb-A-Thon, and, soon thereafter, to the same crowd that fell in love with hip-hop pimping at Sundance. The success of Hustle & Flow (an Oscar for best song!) made Black Snake Moan one of the most highly anticipated titles at this year’s Sundance festival, where the buzz on it was deafening. Ultimately, though, it opened to widely divergent critical opinion and lackluster word-of-mouth. It seemed as if no one, including the filmmaker, had a handle on where Black Snake Moan was taking them, and what it wanted to be when it got there … pulp fiction, cautionary tale or morality play. What was known, based simply on hype and poster art, was that one particularly slutty flower of Southern womanhood would find herself chained to a radiator in the home of a bearded Mandingo-looking gentleman … that, and Justin Timberlake was in there somewhere. Christina Ricci’s Rae is exactly the kind of person who, in less-PC times, defined the terms nymphomaniac and white trash. In a role he might have been born to perform, Samuel L. Jackson portrays a world-weary blues musician and vegetable grower who’s been betrayed by both his brother and wife. One morning, Lazarus finds Rae lying in the middle of country road, where she’s been dumped by a friend of her soldier boyfriend (Timberlake). Rae is prone to seizures, during which she’s been known to crave sex without regard to a man’s temperament, ethnic background or odor. Lazarus believes she’s been possessed by the devil, and chains her to the radiator until he can find a cure for her self-destructive behavior. It’s at this point that Black Snake Moan finds its religion and opens several different paths to redemption. Ricci was the perfect choice to play the debauched nymphet, as was Jackson, who can do foul-mouthed and nasty as well any actor alive. Backed by members of the late R.L. Burnside’s band, he also is a heck of a bluesman. So, what to make of Black Snake Moan? It’s a movie that probably doesn’t stay raunchy long enough to suit the drive-in and midnight-movie crowd, and is far too exploitative in its first half to keep indie-lovers interested. Anyone who was wildly appreciative  of H&F will want to take a look, if only to keep track of Brewer’s work. I’m guessing that a second, unrated director’s-cut edition -- with bonus features and deleted scenes -- will emerge some time before the holidays. Fans of authentic Grade A period sexploitation flicks need look no further than That Tender Touch and Just the Two of Us, from Wolfe’s Vintage Collection. Like most true genre classics, these cheapo studies of lipstick-lesbianism in 1969 and 1975 can be interpreted either as cautionary tales or soft-core porn. Either way, together, they represent about three hours of mindlessly goofy fun, whether one is straight or gay. In Just the Two of Us, a pair of lonely housewives find solace in each other’s arms -- among other places --while their hubbies are away, doing some top-secret work for the government. They also find themselves tempted by women in a groovy sex club and a couple of guys whose favorite philosopher almost certainly is Hugh Hefner. In That Tender Touch, the arrival of an old female flame threatens the marriage of a pixie-ish suburbanite still wrestling with her inner desires. Years before, their guest served both as lover and mentor to the younger woman, who left home when things got too hot and heavy. Turns out, though, this particular SoCal neighborhood is overflowing with libertines, several of whom try to ease the visitor’s pain of being rejected. The only surviving prints of these films were headed for the dustbin before someone saw their potential camp value to fans of The L Word. Movie buffs and cultists sometimes are forced to wait years for specimens as wigged out and campy as The Glamorous Life of Sachiko Hanai, a film that could have been scripted by the guys who come up with the slogans on T-shirts worn by Japanese teens. While the sci-fi comedy/thriller/porno defies easy translation, it’s impossible to resist sorting through the clues, anyway. I can’t do better than the description on the DVD: A lusty home tutor takes a non-fatal bullet to the head, transforming her into an unlikely genius who climaxes to the collected works of Noam Chomsky. Entrusted with the perfect replica of George Bush’s naughty trigger finger, Sachiko deftly dodges North Korean spies in hot pursuit of the sole fingerprint capable of unleashing a devastating nuclear apocalypse across the world. With the future of mankind in her horny hands, can the lusty genius save us all? The Glamorous Life of Sachiko Hanai (a.k.a., Horny Home Tutor: Teacher's Love Juice) is representative of a sub-genre of Japanese movies, known as pink films. Around since the ’60s, they combine soft-core sex with morsels from several other genres, exploiting them in ways that would American film students thrown out of school. Nonetheless, I dug it -- Gary Dretzka
Bridge to Terabithia	Until only very recently, the existence of Katherine Paterson's Newbery Medal-winning novel, Bridge to Terabithia, was unknown to me. Thus, any wave of anticipatory enthusiasm for the February release of  the Walden/Disney adaptation passed me by unnoticed. I wasn’t alone, however. Editors assigned reviews of Gabor Csupo’s altogether captivating dramatic fantasy to second- and third-string critics, and, even if the writers recognized its many attributes, their opinions were relegated to nether regions of the newspaper‘s feature section.  Even so, Bridge to Terabithia managed to do quite well at the box-office, and it ought to do even better in DVD. Despite preview trailers that suggested the adaptation would be heavy on CGI gimmickry, its literary approach to the material was downright analog. In it, fifth-graders Jesse and Leslie represent a matching pair of square pegs in a school where bullies control access to the lavatories and terrorize anyone with a creative streak. Because Jesse’s family has to struggle to make ends meet, he sometimes is ridiculed for wearing his sisters’ hand-me-downs. Leslie’s parents are writers who somehow have managed to live most of their lives without benefit of a television set. These misfits become fast friends, whose combined imagination is fertile enough to transform trauma into a kingdom populated by a fantastic array of heroic and villainous creatures. Access to the Terabithian realm requires only they swing across a deep backyard ravine on a rope and open their imaginations to what presents itself. Indeed, it is the well-worn rope that not only separates reality and fantasy, but God and his creations. The CGI inventions, which aren’t dissimilar to those in Pan’s Labyrinth, make their presence known in the film’s second half. By shooting in New Zealand, and employing Peter Jackson’s digital demons for special effects, the producers were able to create an expensive-looking document on the cheap. Need I mention that Bridge to Tarabithia can be enjoyed equally by children and adults? There are a few extras here, but later DVD incarnations will add more … as is Disney’s wont. All of the actors turn in excellent performances, but it’s Zooey Deschanel’s very appealing singing teacher -- and, yes, her students willingly participate -- who nearly steals the show with her quirky charms and amazing eyes -- Gary Dretzka
The Contractor In 2005, Wesley Snipes joined the parade of action stars taking their act to the lucrative straight-to-DVD marketplace. Steven Seagal and Jean-Claude Van Damme are just two of the well known actors who struck gold in a segment once prominent for producing the cinematic equivalent of pyrite. Snipes seemed to have been enjoying a multi-faceted career in the theatrical arena, but the huge success of the Blade series pointed to the real paydirt. With a reported production budget of a more-than-decent $18 million, The Contractor is an action-thriller that makes good on two important promises. Not only does it deliver a sufficiently big bang for its producers' bucks, but the cost of marketing the title also is a mere fraction of what it would have been, even for a perfunctory theatrical release. All that's really needed is a DVD box with Snipes' name prominently on display, and a visual image that promises fiery action and one or more hot babes. Like Mark Wahlberg in Shooter, Snipes plays a CIA marksman who retires to the mountain solitude of the American west after a botched assignment. He's approached by his former employers to kill the same terrorist leader he failed to eliminate years earlier. Again, like Wahlberg, the marksman is framed by rogue agents. The resulting chase and search for the truth play out in ways most audiences will recognize from a dozen other such thrillers. Nonetheless, Snipes holds up his end of the bargain, and The Contractor proves to be a better-than-average DVD original. -- Gary Dretzka
An Unreasonable Man Nixon: A Presidency Revealed Most of the liberals who blame Ralph Nader for the ascendancy of George W. Bush to the presidency, and despise him for not dropping out of the last two campaigns, conveniently have forgotten how H. Ross Perot helped assure Bill Clinton’s victory over W’s father. What went around, came around. No matter, Nader remains one of the most fascinating and controversial public figures of the 20th Century. An Unreasonable Man traces Nader’s career as a consumer advocate from the 1950s -- a time when anyone who questioned corporate integrity was considered to be a communist -- through his time in the celebrity spotlight (he hosted Saturday Night Live, in 1977) and on to his ill-fated and overly quixotic presidential candidacies (maybe, he should have set his sights a bit lower). Henriette Mantel and Steve Skrovan's documentary also provides testimony from prominent social and political commentators from across the political spectrum. The DVD adds several new scenes and featurettes. Considering just how far to the right the Republican Party has drifted in the last 10 years -- and how socially conservative the Democrates have become -- Richard Nixon and Ralph Nader could run on the same ticket and be disparaged as liberals. Imagine: Nixon opened the doors to then-Red China, while no major presidential candidate today is willing even to argue the efficacy of dropping sanctions against Cuba. George Bush has willingly sold our nation’s soul to Wall Street power brokers and war mongers, while Nixon paid lip service, at least, to Ike’s warnings of a military-industrial complex. Even Watergate pales by comparison to the deceit required to sell the war in Iraq to Congress and Tony Blair. Knowing that Nixon probably took his deepest and darkest secrets to the grave is something that continues to vex historians and sell newspapers. The History Channel’s A Presidency Revealed offers yet another look at a politician many of us feel as if we know like a brother. Fact is, even in death, Nixon continues to surprise us and the Watergate scandal, especially, remains fascinating in the scope of both its arrogance and banality. Also included in the DVD package is the 2000 film, Inside the Presidency: Eisenhower vs. Nixon, which describes the tension that existed between the two men during their administration. -- Gary Dretzka
Big Easy to Big Empty: The Untold Story of the Drowning of New Orleans One sure way a journalist knows when he’s onto something big is being arrested during the course of his investigation. Such was the fate of reporter Greg Palast and producer Matt Pascarella, who were researching allegations of FEMA malfeasance in the wake of Hurricane Katrina for Big Easy to Big Empty. They were arrested by the Department of Homeland Security for violating anti-terror laws while filming evacuees living behind barbed-wire barriers near a Exxon refinery. Their assignment had nothing to do with the war in Iraq or Afghanistan, but any light shown on the plight of evacuees might have reflected on the government‘s willingness to kiss corporate ass. Once news of the arrests hit the Internet, Exxon convinced the feds that pressing charges might draw more attention to the region and its problems than was warranted by simple trespass. Big Easy to Big Empty presents a damning indictment of the continuing tragedy that is New Orleans. It makes its case effectively with new evidence, observations and data. Whether anyone outside of Louisiana is listening, anymore, remains open to question. -- Gary Dretzka
Escape To Canada The Tournament Cannes: All Access/Film School/The Spaghetti West The Underwater World of Trout Albert Nerenberg, a humorist and documentarian, makes the case in Escape to Canada that the Great White North has become the country our founding fathers intended the United States to be. It is a nation in which civil liberties are considered to be something more than obstacles to personal wealth and windfall profit. Apparently, Nerenberg was inspired to pay homage to Canada in 2003, after Ontario legislators lifted prohibitions against same-sex marriage and smoking pot. Throw in Canada’s progressive health-care system and humane treatment of war resisters, and the threat of frostbite looks very manageable. In Washington, it’s impossible to find anyone who wants to debate the legalization of marijuana for cancer victims, let alone same-sex marriages. What’s in it for them? Nerenberg scores many hits, but can’t explain why all the great comedians of Canada end up living in L.A. Maybe, it does have something to do with the weather, after all. Canada , of course, has also exported some fine mockumentaries. The Tournament examines the country’s obsession with youth hockey, and how parents, coaches and sponsors often play their games more aggressively than the kids. The series, which resembles The Office on ice, was shown here on the nearly invisible Outdoor Life Network. In Cannes: All Access, critic Richard Schickel takes movie lovers on a insider’s tour of the film festival that, for 60 years, has provided a two-week vacation for international filmmakers, producers, actors, critics, busty starlettes, rich Eurotrash and paparazzi. It’s the place to be seen, and see movies. Schickel’s access to A-list celebrities makes this otherwise slight effort enjoyable. Everyone seen in the IFC original series, Film School, either wants to be have their film shown at Cannes, or already has enjoyed the pleasure. Nanette Burstein’s show preceded Fox’s largely unwatched On the Set, where the participants appear to have been recruited from Central Casting. The IFC documentary The Spaghetti West takes us back to the ’60s, when many of the best Westerns were being churned out by Italian directors working in Spain with American character actors in lead roles. Those who are still around reminisce about the their experiences and how the films turned the genre on its head. (Surviving the Rush is a super-low-budget indie comedy that isn’t all that funny, but will appeal to anyone who’s ever worked in movie theater. It takes place at a small one-screen venue that unexpectedly finds itself hosting the year‘s most anticipated movie, and is ill-prepared to handle the crowds.) One of the blurbs on the cover of The Underwater World of Trout declares the DVD to be the most important trout video to date, while another trumpets, It is nothing short of amazing. I’ll take their word for it. Not being of the fly-tying persuasion, I found the first two volumes in Wendell Ozzie Ozefovich’s documentary series -- Discovery and Feeding Lies -- to be irresistible, if only for revealing aspects of the trout’s habitat previously unseen by anglers. -- Gary Dretzka
Longford Porterhouse Blue Blue Murder: Set 1 Lovejoy: The Complete Season 1 Chancer: Series 1 They say there’s no fool like an old fool, and Britain has enough old fools to fill the House of Lords. HBO’s wonderfully acted Longford tells the true story of Frank Aungier Pakenham, 7th Earl of Longford, and his ill-considered friendship with a jailed child murderer, Myra Hindley. A devout Catholic, Longford believed criminals could be rehabilitated in prison, and, thus, were deserving of forgiveness. His principles were tested mightily by Hindley, a young woman serving a life sentence for murders ostensibly committed by her lover, Ian Brady. When word of his efforts to free Hindley made the British tabloid press, he was held up to public ridicule and much of his previous good work was denigrated. Once again, Jim Broadbent and Samantha Morton demonstrate what it means for an actor to be playing at the top of one’s game. The popular 1987 British export, Porterhouse Blue, lampoons the archaic traditions and social pretension of British academia, as represented by Porterhouse College (a fictional part of Cambridge University). A progressive alumnus, played by Ian Richardson, is recruited to replace an old-school educator who may have imbibed himself into an early grave (an unusual, but not uncommon form of accidental death at Porthouse). Change may not go down easily with staff, servants and some students, but the friction sparks several hilarious scandals. Veteran TV comedian Caroline Quentin (Men Behaving Badly) takes a more serious turn in the Manchester-set police-procedural, Blue Murder. In addition to working on some extremely brutal and ugly cases, Quentin’s DCI Janine Lewis (Quentin) must oversee the care and feeding of four children from a failed marriage. Lewis is no super cop. She does the scud work necessary to clear murders and sex crimes, then goes home. Ian McShane is the best excuse to revisit Lovejoy, but, as he proved in Deadwood, that’s reason enough. A world-class womanizer, Lovejoy is an antiques dealer who moonlights as a private detective. Likewise, the opportunity to watch Clive Owen (Croupier) perform at such an early stage in his career is enough to recommend the Brit series. Chancer. In it, he plays a suave conman named Stephen Crane. - Gary Dretzka
Kathy Griffin: My Life on the D-List: The Complete First Season Wait Till Your Father Gets Home: The Complete First Season Psych: The Complete First Season The Hardy Boys Nancy Drew Mysteries: Season Two Gomer Pyle, U.S.M.C.: Second Season Mail Call: S.N.A.F.U. Slings & Arrows: Season 3 Reno 911!: The Complete Fourth Season (Uncensored) In many ways, Kathy Griffin is what Joan Rivers might have become if her career had begun in the ’90s, instead of the early ’60s. It’s possible that one or two things remain too sacred for the younger redhead to trash, but it would take a while to find one. Andrew Dice Clay became rich performing the same sort of act, and, while huge at the box-office, was reviled by nearly half of his potential audience. Being a woman and admitted fag hag, Griffin gets something of a pass from the media and critics. Her reality series My Life on the D-List, now in its second season, can be extremely funny, and her self-deprecating approach to fame and celebrity often is quite appealing. Like most ego trips, however, it wears thin after a while. The set also contains material from the second season and her stand-up special, Kathy Griffin Is … Not Nicole Kidman. Wait Till Your Father Gets Home represents something of a pop-cultural oddity. It is a cartoon series, from Hanna-Barbara, that attempted to capture the same cross-cultural audience as All in the Family, both on CBS. The Boyles were conceived as the average 1970's American family, with a conservative dad, open-minded mom and children who run the gamut of trendy political thought in that turbulent period. It looks prehistoric today, but some anthropologists consider it to be a missing link between The Flintstones and The Simpsons. In the USA Network series, Psych, Shawn Spencer (James Roday) uses his intelligence and the skills taught to him by his strict father (Corbin Bernsen) to lead police to clues overlooked in their investigations of crimes. Naturally, the police begin to believe that Shawn knows too many details to be anything but a criminal. To avoid arrest, he convinces them he is a psychic and is asked to help out on tough cases. Along with his friend, Gus (Dulé Hill, of The West Wing), they regularly test the patience and skepticism of the resident chief of police. As venerable a character as is Nancy Drew, her familiarity with readers and TV audiences did almost nothing to boost box-office sales for the most recent film incarnation, which stars ingénue Emma Roberts. Now available in DVD is the second season of The Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boys Mysteries, circa 1977, which starred Shaun Cassidy, Parker Stevenson and Pamela Sue Martin. With such guest stars as Casey Kasem, Rick Springfield, Melanie Griffith and Valerie Bertinelli -- as well as songs by tween-heartthrob, Cassidy -- the  22-episode compilation is like a time capsule from a time almost no one wants to re-visit.  The second-season of Gomer Pyle U.S.M.C. is now available in a multi-disc set. The highlights include visits from a runaway Opie, Cousin Goober, pre-MASH Jamie Farr and William Christopher, and a trip to Las Vegas. In Full Metal Jacket, a gunnery sergeant played by real life Marine R. Lee Ermey tormented a misfit recruit he dubbed Private Pyle. By coincidence, if not ironically, Ermey hosts the History Channel series, Mail Call, a version of which also arrived on DVD this week. This one, Mail Call: S.N.A.F.U., is a collection of bloopers, outtakes and mistakes that didn’t make the cut. Will wonders never cease? Another good reason to subscribe to premium cable is the availability of the kind of literate comedy series -- here, Slings & Arrows: Season 3 -- that wouldn’t last 10 minutes on the broadcast networks. (Smart people aren’t allowed to participate in Nielsen surveys.) The Sundance Channel sitcom involves a group of actors in the fictional town of New Burbage, where the occasion of an annual theater festival creates opportunities for laughs and tears. Many of Canada’s most popular actors -- including such familiar exports as Sarah Polley and Rachel McAdams -- participate in story arcs. Fans of that hilarious Comedy Channel series, Reno 911, will be happy to learn of the nearly simultaneous release on DVD of Season 4: Uncensored and the un-rated, feature-length Reno 911!: Miami. The series hasn’t lost a stroke in the five seasons it’s been on cable, and the film is funny and fresh enough not to disappoint anyone but newcomers who aren’t in on the conceit. While at a police convention in Florida, a terrorist threat prompts the quarantine of every cop in town, except those from Reno. Fortunate, too, because they’ve all been trained to deal with such contingencies, after a fashion. Special appearances by some Reno regulars add to the fun. The TV-to-DVD parade continues apace with new collections, Diagnosis Murder: The Second Season, Perry Mason: Season 2, Vol. 1, Walker, Texas Ranger: The Complete Third Season and Monk: Season Five. Anyone who hasn’t yet gotten on the Monk bandwagon is missing a terrific series. . - Gary Dretzka
Driving Lessons Fans of Calendar Girls, Saving Grace, Enchanted April and such March-to-December relationship films as Harold & Maude will have a good time with Driving Lessons, as should the most dedicated adult followers of the Harry Potter saga. Rupert Grint, who plays Harry’s sidekick, Ron Weasely, here is assigned the task of being the 17-year-old sidekick of an over-the-hill actress who can’t let go of the past … or, what she remembers of it, anyway. Julie Walters’ eccentric portrayal of Evie Walton was informed by writer/director Jeremy Brock’s memories of working as Dame Peggy Ashcroft’s assistant while a teenager. If anywhere near accurate, everything that followed must have been a piece of cake. Still, Ben prefers finds doing chores for Evie preferable to helping out his pious mom (Laura Linney, in a bizarre turn) and dad at the local vicarage. The film’s highlight moments come during a road trip to Edinburgh, during which both Evie and Ben find much common ground. - Gary Dretzka