“I did it for love,” is an excuse oft-used to describe the reason for a lot of crazy, seemingly outlandish things people do. It’s a catch-all statement that once spoken is meant to immediately ward off any inquiries about one’s temporary insanity. Indeed, love is the driving force of the plot for “Slumdog Millionaire” and propels its main character to make choices one might not normally make. With love at its core, the film then branches out to explore additional themes of hope, desire and destiny.

It opens with Jamal being interrogated by two policemen whose tactics rival those ordered at Guantanamo Bay. Jamal is an 18-year-old, uneducated boy from one of India’s poorer neighborhoods (see also: slums), who happens to be one question away from winning the ultimate prize in the country’s version of “Who Wants to Be a Millionaire.” Doctors and lawyers routinely fail to get beyond 60,000 rupees on the show (Jamal currently stands at 10 million) and suspicions of malfeasance on Jamal’s part arise. During one of the show’s patented mid-episode hiatuses, he is arrested and questioned.

Playing back a recording of the show to that point, Jamal is instructed to describe how someone of his background could possibly know the answer to each individual question. Through flashback, he tells his life story and the key moments leading to him acquiring the information needed to give a correct answer. His life is laden with tiny epiphanies that little does he know will come back to help in his quest for millions.

As a child, Jamal and his brother Salim, lose their mother in a tribal ambush and are forced to take refuge in a shelter resembling a storage container. A girl, also recently orphaned by the same event, has nowhere to turn and is invited to seek cover in the same container. She is Latika and becomes Jamal’s lifelong infatuation. Like all stories of love and longing, they are separated by time and circumstance, but Jamal launches a last-ditch effort to win her back by appearing on “Who Wants to Be a Millionaire.”

“Who Wants to Be a Millionaire” was a phenomenon upon its initial airing, at least it part because of the dramatics inherent in the music and stalling antics by Regis Philbin. “Slumdog” takes the suspense already built into that show and compounds it with a timeless story of love and yearning. The results are extraordinary. With every new question replayed for Jamal’s explanation, it keeps the viewer eager to hear him peel away a new layer of his life. Every explanation leads to the next question and the tension builds and repeats, eventually reaching a crescendo.

Directed by Danny Boyle (“Trainspotting”), the film transcends expectations of the perhaps simplistic plot. The screen is infused with color and continues exploration of the beauteous landmarks and landscapes, prominently displayed in last year’s “The Darjeeling Limited,” that India has to offer. It is a country that gets little exposure on film in the United States, mainly because we find Bollywood so bizarre. Their movies are really imported over here. They are exceptionally long, by our standards, and even their Hitchcockian thrillers pause to incorporate song and dance numbers.

However, the script by Simon Beaufoy (“The Full Monty”), based on a book by Vikas Swarup, perfectly adapts India’s sensibilities and culture for Western audiences. It seamlessly weaves the present of Jamal’s explanations with the past of his life story into an easily accessible narrative.

Jamal, Salim and Latika are all portrayed by three different actors during the major time periods of Jamal’s life. It’s refreshing to a see a great movie starring nobody I’d ever seen or heard of before. So many movies these days are sold and marketed with actors attached to them. Hype is then generated through the internet, which mainly focuses on the bigger movies. It’s easy for a smaller film to slip through the cracks and it’s up to reviews to give them some exposure.

“Slumdog Millionaire” reaffirms the idea that a great film can be created through story and character, no matter the name of the person onscreen. This is the type of film that restores any wavering faith one might have in the medium and combines with a tale of inspiration and love. If you’re asking for this year’s charming little movie that could, akin to “Juno,” “Little Miss Sunshine” or “My Big Fat Greek Wedding” before it, “Slumdog Millionaire” is your answer.

In a post-”Brokeback Mountain” world, the acceptance of homosexual culture still has yet to be penetrated, and with Proposition 8 recently passing in California, the movement for gay civil rights was dealt another significant blow. Released just after the hotly-contested proposal, “Milk” focuses on similar subject matter, fresh on people’s minds.

It is the story of Harvey Milk, the first openly gay man elected to U.S. public office, and self-proclaimed “Mayor of Castro Street.” Much like the noir classic “Double Indemnity,” the story is mostly told through flashbacks as Harvey (Sean Penn) narrates into a tape recorder the story of how he came to be a San Francisco Supervisor and lead the homosexual revolution.

The seeds of Harvey’s crusade to bring homosexual equality are planted almost immediately upon moving into San Francisco’s Castro District, which in the early 70′s was apparently not the place it is now. He stands back in the street with his partner, Scott (James Franco), admiring a recently hung sign announcing the presence of his quaint camera shop. A fellow business-owner greets him with a handshake that he wipes onto his clothes and makes it clear that Harvey’s time in San Francisco will not go smoothly.

It’s then and there that Harvey decides to fight for acceptance for his homosexual brothers and sisters, and his first order of business is the Castro District. In addition to persecution by fellow business owners, he and his gay brethren are repeatedly beaten and harassed by police for no other crime than walking down the street while gay. He figures the best way to incite change in the area is by running for public office.

The film depicts Harvey Milk as a gay Martin Luther King Jr., only requesting the simplest of things for himself and others like him: equality. However, obstacles continue to stand in the way of accomplishing his goals, even while in public office. Two major villains come in the form of Proposition 6 or “The Briggs Initiative” (a proposal to ban gay and lesbian teachers from public schools) and a literal one in the form of fellow Supervisor, Dan White (Josh Brolin). Milk’s triumphs and failures are here for all to see, and like all good history, hopefully learn from.

Director, Gus Van Sant, makes a welcome return to non-experimental features. It’s his first since 2000′s “Finding Forrester,” and he’s been missed. He lends an even hand to the script written by Dustin Lance Black (TV’s “Big Love”), who for the first time I can recall since Charlie and Donald Kaufman on “Adaptation” has his name displayed on the film’s poster as big as the director’s. It’s a strong show of support for the writer and his material that is all too rare. Indeed he has crafted a biopic that gives insight into its subject, what makes him tick and how he affects those around him. Black and Van Sant are content to not focus so much on Milk’s personal life, but the crusade of change he inspires and how he goes about achieving it.

Sean Penn embodies Harvey Milk with an intense fervor and luster that perhaps only Sean Penn could. He brings his fiery political persona to the title character that makes you feel he truly is the one that can mobilize a people. As befitting for the role as Penn is, however, I think the stand-out performance of the film belongs to Emile Hirsch as Milk’s right-hand man, Cleve Jones. It’s not a substantial role, but the subtle mannerisms and character traits he creates are astonishing. Although his talent has been touted as of late, especially for 2007′s “Into the Wild,” I felt the accolades for his performance in that film were more deserving for the physical transformation. Here, he deserves all the praise he receives. A special mention should also be given to Diego Luna as Jack, one of Harvey’s faithful partners.

The film has performances and portrayals nailed, but I feel it’s the main villain that lacks the punch needed for the film to excel. This isn’t a film about Dan White, nor is it Harvey Milk vs. Dan White, but it almost seems like Josh Brolin’s role is tacked on. Milk and White certainly interact, but their relationship feels hollow and rushed only to meet a pre-designated conclusion.

As much as this biopic is meant to educate the viewer on the life of a perhaps forgotten political figure, it is also meant to bring to light issues that we as a people still face after 30 years. It’d be interesting to know to what effect, if any, this movie would have had on the Proposition 8 vote, if released prior to the election. Alas, that was not the case.

“My name is Harvey Milk and I want to recruit you.” These are the words Harvey Milk uses to begin his speeches to his followers. Is it a rallying cry? An ironic twist, playing on the fears of homophobes that homosexuals want to recruit them to be a part of their lifestyle? Either way, like Harvey, this film hopes to recruit viewers not already educated in its views on equality. The movie inspires those who wish to continue to fight the battle Harvey so desperately tries to win, and may even shine a light on the unwilling or intolerant.

After seeing numerous vampire-related films in my lifetime, it has become obvious to me that it was going to take a special film to bring the genre out of the gutter of my filmic mind. “Let the Right One In” is not that film.

This is a Swedish film that made its rounds on the festival circuit earlier this year. Oskar, a 12-year-old boy who gets bullied at school, desires revenge against his enemies. He practices torturing and berating his foes in front of the mirror, like a grade-school Travis Bickle. His weapon of choice: the knife.

Eli, not a “girl,” but a female vampire, is 12 years old, but has lived for much longer. Like all vampires, she feeds off the blood of others. To keep her contained, her father (or at least father-figure), packs a kit full of mugging and blood-draining tools each night and ventures into the woods to find an unsuspecting victim and future fuel for Eli. When one of his nightly blood-gatherings is thwarted, Eli lashes out at him in such a way that when another attempt is stalled, he figures to sacrifice himself instead of enduring another backlash of disappointment.

With her blood-gatherer and fuel-producer now gone, Eli needs to venture out and fend for herself. She witnesses Oskar administering his pseudo-punishment on a tree and takes a liking to him, as he does likewise. They develop a romantic friendship and she urges Oskar to no longer give in to being outnumbered on the schoolyard.

If the premise I described sounds like something you might be interested in, great. I felt the same way. Coupled with the lavish praise bestowed upon it (at the time of this writing it holds a 96% Fresh rating on RottenTomatoes.com), I was ready to be engaged by a vampire film where many others had failed. “Interview with a Vampire,” “Bram Stoker’s Dracula,” “30 Days of Night,” all had aspects of intrigue for me, but failed to capitalize on them. The same goes for “Let the Right One In.”

There are aspects of vampire lore that everyone knows about. They can’t go into the sunlight, they sleep in coffins, they can’t see their own reflections, etc. This film doesn’t go out of its way to redefine any of those, but added a couple new wrinkles that were left unexplained.

The unexplained is wherein most of the problems lay. By no means was the film incomprehensible. I’ve seen enough of those to know what they look like. Rather, scenes and events are disjointed. Numerous sequences and scenarios needing fleshing out. Conversations are left un-had. There is a scene where Oskar visits Eli at her house. The house is so plain and barren, he makes the assumption that she’s poor. She points to a small golden egg in the middle of a table and says, “You could buy a nuclear power plant if you sold that.” That’s great. What is it? Who knows? It’s a nothing moment. The egg is not a MacGuffin. It’s not the suitcase in “Pulp Fiction.” It doesn’t drive the plot at all. It’s apparently an expensive egg. That’s all you’re going to get.

At one point, Oskar disapproves of Eli and her vampire ways, biting people and taking their money. The film appears to enter into the part of the formula where “boy rejects vampire,” but it doesn’t come to fruition. Although I respect the choice to go against formula, it’s again a moment of waste. Oskar states his position, but nothing comes of it and the story carries on as if it never occurred.

All is not to be completely dismissed, however, as there certainly are things to admire. The problem is that most of the deserved admiration comes across in idea and attempt rather than execution. It’s easy to see why Oskar would be attracted to Eli. He is alone in the world. Isolated from his classmates. Perennially picked on. He has the desire to enact revenge, but he lacks the mentality and physical prowess to defend himself. Although Eli is the same age, it’s in her nature to attack. When she attacks, it’s for survival. When Oskar’s supposed to attack, it’s for the same. The parallels are well-drawn.

Director, Tomas Alfredson, succeeds in creating an eerie wintry atmosphere appropriate for the subdued story. He eschews the slick, snowy rhetoric employed by the aforementioned “30 Days of Night.” Also, primarily concealed are some of Eli’s vampiric traits. We never see her fly, although know it takes place. Alfredson knows we’ve seen it all before and chooses to keep things focused on the story instead of oft-seen effects. The two adolescent leads are both intriguing and make it easy to recognize the daily stressors that each character must deal with. The storyline is an engaging one, as you’re invested in Oskar’s plight against his tormentors and look forward to seeing how Eli can aid him.

The pieces of a very good film are in place, but the connective tissue is missing. There are well-crafted situations in which the characters can thrive, but they aren’t fleshed out enough to do so. There is blood, but those hoping to satiate their vampiric-like desire for such things will carry on disappointed. This is not a vampire movie with moments of drama, but a drama that happens to contain a vampire. I’m all for the idea, just not the way it was carried out.

A life without art and passionate love is a life unfulfilled.  After seeing Woody Allen’s new romantic comedy Vicky Cristina Barcelona, he most certainly concurs.  Best friends Vicky (Rebecca Hall) and Cristina (Scarlett Johansson) vacation to Barcelona for a few months to experience another culture.  Vicky is a graduate student engaged to be married, there to explore and study, while Cristina is a failed actress (a re-dux of her role in Matchpoint?); a free-spirit unencumbered by a past filled with heartache.  Once there, they encounter a painting Spaniard named Juan Antonio (Javier Bardem) whom is equal parts intriguing and charming.  He immediately proposes what most men would do in his situation, offering them a weekend getaway filled with exploration of art and love-making.  They are to “depart in an hour,” he says matter-of-factly.

Despite the adamant protests of Vicky, off they go and things unspool as you would expect, sort of.  Vicky and Cristina both have their admirations for Juan Antonio, but when his ex-wife Maria Elena shows up (played with gusto by Penelope Cruz), things get a little crazy, literally.  Ella esta loca to say the least.  She once stabbed Juan Antonio in the back just like a scene from an Agatha Christie novel.  Having just tried to kill herself, Juan Antonio accepts her back into his home to the dismay of Cristina, who is now living with him.  Can you say – love triangle?

The film picks up momentum when Cruz in on screen.  She has some of the best lines in the movie and delivers a tongue-twisted, comedic performance.  Allen recycles his Annie Hall roots using subtitles in the scenes she is in.  They distract from the performances some but do heighten the humor quotient.  Whether it’s exploring art, love, or Spain, the pic represents Allen’s best work since Matchpoint.  His lens is steady and focused, allowing the cityscapes to punctuate the mood rather than using camera tomfoolery.  Eschewing Hollywood ethics, Allen also shows he is in total control of the project by breaking one of the golden rules of filmmaking, via the use of narration.  The voiceover gets tired a few minutes in but thankfully all but disappears as the movie gains steam.

The relative unknown Hall is a scene-stealer throughout (tough to do given the cast) and is sure to land more roles based on her performance here.  Her uptight Vicky shines, rattling off witty, disapproving quips even as her defenses begin to unravel in Juan Antonio’s presence.  When she initially says that JA is “not attractive,” we know she feels differently.  Eventually, his absence does indeed make her heart grow fonder.

In a small role, Patricia Clarkson plays what is essentially a cautionary tale to Vicky.  Her Judy is trapped in a passionless marriage and dreamingly longs to free herself from its strains.  While she is past the point of taking said action, it becomes her mission to show Vicky the light in this regard.  Kudos to Chris Messina as he nails his part as Vicky’s man at home, a nice guy and corporate tool stuck in the ideals of America.

This is a film that wants to make you objectively question your life daring you to live to the fullest.  It is unflinching in its touting of the creative arts and provoking a pursuit of your physical desires with equal aplomb.  It doesn’t do a heck of a lot for the monogamist in you though, even if it openly shows the potential destructive nature of living passionately.

Admittedly, it is not without a few issues.  I would have liked to see Johansson and Hall switch roles.  They are such polar opposites and it would have been a change for Johansson to play the one with the constricted emotions.  It was obvious from the outset that her sultry Cristina would succumb to Juan Antonio’s come-ons and her indecisive siren felt all too familiar.  Also, Vicky and Cristina are supposed to be best friends but that is never fully realized.  They supposedly share the same views in virtually all ways other than politics and love, however with love as a main theme here, we can’t buy into their close-knit friendship.

Consider the business casual khakis and polo crowd forewarned as Woody takes to mocking the corporate world.  The writer-director (no acting this time) champions a European lifestyle here, blunt in his treatment of a clone-like quality in some American lives, which the auteur disdains.  The characters on screen are forced to examine if they are truly experiencing deep felt passion in a situation rather than merely an obsession or infatuation.  Allen clearly wants the audience to examine this within themselves as well.  Now how did that sales-pitch golf outing with the boss go?

In the recently released Step Brothers, the two lead males essentially proclaim John Stamos as the sexiest man alive, but if they saw this movie they would have to consider Bardem the worthy title-holder.  His Juan Antonio is cool, confident, and in control at all times.  While he claims that his marriage to Maria Elena brought too much conflict into their lives, you tend to think a guy like him could handle it anyway but simply chooses not to.  The fact that Allen teases us with the possibility of further probing into that notion without capitalizing on it, is a slight disappointment.  Nevertheless, with Barcelona serving as the perfect backdrop, it’s hard not to fall victim to the film’s charms.

Synecdoche, New York is Charlie Kaufman’s directorial debut.  Kaufman, if you don’t know, is the writer of such offbeat films such as the John Cusack starrer Being John Malkovich, the Nic Cage vehicle Adaptation and the Jim Carrey led Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.  Having this knowledge should give you some understanding of what you are in for here.  Synecdoche boasts another strong actor in the lead role as Oscar-winner Philip Seymour Hoffman plays Caden Cotard, a lonely theater director struggling with his health, his relationships, and his work.  All the while, Cotard is trying to create his masterpiece play, which includes a massive replica of New York city inside a warehouse in NY’s arty theater district.

Cotard is a man not living life to the fullest and for some reason the world seems to be crumbling around him.  His wife Adele, a brilliant miniature artist, takes their daughter to Berlin, thus leaving him as his health begins to decline.  His illness is impossible to pinpoint, as various doctors from different professions all fail to diagnose what ails him.  A woman that works at his theater holds feelings for him, but as a married man, he is reluctant to see where that might go.  His therapist appears to be hitting on him.  Throw in a possible relationship with his lead actress and it’s easy to say, the man has 99 problems and girls are more than one.

Throwing himself into his work, a strange dynamic begins to form as his ideas for what should take place in his magnum opus, a play without a name, become increasingly unconventional to say the least.  Cotard begs his actors to search for truth and thus he hires other actors to follow the original actors around, when they are all simply acting out life, inside the brutal honesty of the play.  It’s a bit exhausting, as the lines between what takes place in the play and real life blur to a fuzzy haze.  To describe much more of the plot would only serve to further confuse and potentially ruin the experience for the moviegoer.  As Johnny Carson used to say, this is weird, wild, wacky stuff.

This is Kaufman, so there are crazy scenarios like a house that continues to burn throughout the years, Americans taking on German accents, and artwork that is about one-inch square in which you need a magnifying glass to view it.  Most of this is not just abnormal to most filmgoers but perhaps it’s even insane.  However, it’s also likely brilliant.  Kaufman is either on some incredible drugs (100 times more powerful than that “Pineapple Express!”) or has creativity pouring out of his fingertips.  Who knows?  Maybe even both.

This is a challenging film with a great cast in place to bring Kaufman’s vision to life.  Joining Hoffman are the talents of Michelle Williams, Samantha Morton, Catherine Keener, and Hope Davis, just to name a few.  The movie turns the lens inward, making you search for meaning and answers.  It is up to the viewer to draw their own conclusions, as so much of what is on screen are laid out as metaphors for something else.  Like Cotard says while directing one of his rehearsals, “There are millions of people in the world and none of those people are as an extra.  They are all leads in their own stories.”  You are the lead in the stories of your own life and if these are the sorts of ponderances you like to examine upon leaving a film, you owe it to yourself to see this creative and zany wonder.

One footnote:  For a limited time, the one-inch micro artwork under the Adele Lack name is being displayed in the Montalban Gallery in Los Angeles.  If interested, look it up and check it out, then go and see the film!

Sophomoric. Juvenile. Ridiculous. Preposterous. All these things can be used to describe Step Brothers.  But it’s still pretty funny.  Dale Doback (John C. Reilly) lives comfortably at home with his Dad.  Brennan Huff (Will Ferrell) is in the same situation with his Mom.  When Dale’s father and Brennan’s mother meet at a seminar, they engage in a sordid, animalistic love affair.  The result is a marriage and subsequent move-in situation that brings 39 year-old Brennan and his Mom into the home of 40 year-old Dale and his Dad.  A power struggle ensues and a period of adjustment is necessary.  Ferrell’s Brennan and Reilly’s Dale begin to engage in a game of one-upsmanship and are pitch perfect to play these types of lowest common denominator characters.

As usual the biggest problem with these types of movies is the need to have a plot and Step Brothers’ plot is about as unrealistic as they come.  In one early scene, Brennan and Dale, who are supposed to hate each other vehemently, come to serious blows using bats, bikes and golf clubs and their Dad has to be called in to break it up.  In the very next scene they are almost like best friends.  This is the sort of thing that ruins any sort of believability in these types of movies.  The main consequence of their fight (not the “No TV for a week!”) is that they must prepare to grow up.  They are getting kicked out of the house in a month and both must find jobs in order to make it on their own.

There is no sense in delving too much into the plot, since things like storytelling and realism have no place in a movie like this.  Needless to say, it’s the tag-team duo that keep the laughs coming at a reasonably moving rate.  They look at smut rags in their tree house, create bunk beds, and they both sleepwalk recklessly.  There are plenty of bodily function jokes as well.  It’s all so asinine that it’s often very funny.  The first half of the film is funnier than the second half, which is quite typical, when the plot actually must surface for the story to come to a resolution.

Ultimately Step Brothers feels like it’s more of an ad-libbing improvisational opportunity for these talents to show off more than anything else.  The movie promises laughs and it delivers on that promise.  Unfortunately, several things that you see in the trailers are not in the film itself and that is a bit of a letdown.  This is not an uncommon occurrence with movies by any means, but I felt that the trailer here really generated the excitement for me and I was a little bummed when some of the lines were cut or changed.  The extras on the DVD should likely be ample to fill that void.  If you are in the mood for mindless, reckless, completely absurd gags, check it out.  There are worse ways to spend 90 minutes of your time.

Zack and Miri Make a Porno stars the now ubiquitous Seth Rogen as Zack and the ever-developing Elizabeth Banks as Miri.  Written and directed by Kevin Smith, this is a blend of lowest common denominator raunch ala a Clerks-era Smith, with the romantic comedy sentimentality found in most Judd Apatow productions.  The comparison is certainly apt, with Smith directing a cast that includes his Clerks stars Jeff Anderson and Jason Mewes, as well as the perennial Apatow favorites Rogen, Banks, and Craig Robinson.

The title of the film is pretty straight forward, telling you exactly what the movie is about.  Zack and Miri do indeed make a porno.  The only catch here is the potential pratfalls of filming a porno with the longtime friendship that Zack and Miri have.  When the roommates and lifelong friends lose power and see the water cut off in their apartment, they decide to turn to the world of porn to make money to pay the bills.  Rounding up some friends to assist them and holding auditions to fill out their filming cast, including a few real porn stars, production is set in motion for the centerpiece of the movie’s plot.

Here, I must mention the level of filth that accompanies this film.  There are some very funny moments, but this is a hard R, having narrowly avoided an NC-17 rating by the MPAA.  There is graphic sexuality and nudity, especially in, but not limited to, the porn scenes and continuous foul-mouthed language throughout.  There is also a defecation scene during the film, among a few other scenes where toilets are involved.  It is literally “potty humor” and if that is not your thing, it is advised to stay away.

Props to the cast should start with Banks, as this is most certainly a star-making turn for her.  She shows off her comedic chops, which have been on display in other films like the 40-Year Old Virgin, but also her fragility when presenting Miri’s feelings that develop for Zack.  Her post-coital moment alone after filming her porn scene reveals a woman who felt transformed by the experience.

Craig Robinson continues to see his roles expand in films lately, and for good reason.  He sparkles, acting as a producer of the porn and a man conflicted with his marriage.  Whether commenting on issues of race (upset with being asked to work on “Black Friday” the biggest shopping day of the year not a “racial” holiday) or wanting to see some new breasts (different words used) other than his wife’s after the last 20 years, he brings what is becoming his trademark style of delivery resulting in him stealing nearly every scene he is in.  A definite crack up.

I admit to not knowing that Smith had such a sentimental side to him, though this isn’t necessarily a positive revelation.  Maybe this is all a cue from the success that he currently sees Apatow having.  Smith keeps the attempted gags coming and he handles the directing well when it comes to the inevitable touching moments in the movie.  This is either a sign of his maturing as a director or an attempt to correct some of his past failures (Gigli anyone?).  Whatever the reasons, this is not the indy-level Smith film we’ve come to expect from him.  Though the rating and extreme filth will likely hurt its audience to some degree in theatres, this will definitely be a hit on video when all the youngsters can rent it more freely.

Unfortunately, the film ends up being a little too formulaic in the end to give it stellar results.  The plot is highly predictable and the lack of an engaging lead in Rogen hurts it.  His Zack, though likable, is just not that interesting to watch or listen to on the whole, and Rogen’s performances are becoming very repetitive.  What was a fresh revelation in Knocked Up has worn thin in a short time.  He is more suited to smaller roles as his pudgy, grizzly bear appearance and acid-tongued persona can only go so far.  His role in Superbad or even his cameo-type stint in Step Brothers, seem to fit him better.  He is a talented writer who can be funny, but as a lead actor he is not particularly exciting or believable and it usually results in overkill.

A few other notes to be aware of: lookout for Justin Long as a gay porn star in a few scene-stealing moments in the film.  Yeah, I said both he and Robinson are scene-stealers, though they share no scenes together.  (That could have been fun!) The Apple spokesman serves up more than a few delights in limited time.  Also, stick around for an additional scene at the end of the film right when the credits roll.  It’s a denouement of sorts.  This adds to the overall package of what is an at times funny, yet uneven film as a whole.

The racial slur “towelhead” is supposed to imply a Middle Easterner, but that’s one of the least offensive insults thrown around in this thought provoking drama.  Originally titled the more mundane Nothing Is Private, this film might have been pitched as something like Crash meets American Beauty in a production meeting.  Those two award-winning titles have similar themes within them as this one, respectively dealing with racial tension and identity as well as sexual exploration.  Reverting back to the title Towelhead, the name of the novel that this film is adapted from, the title is sure to be a controversial and racy one, pun completely intended, to deal with.

Towelhead is centered around 13-year old Jasira, played with verve by relative newbie Summer Bishil.  Born of a mixed racial background, her white mother Gail (Mario Bello) sends her off to live with her Arab ex-husband, Rifat in a Houston suburb.  There she deals with growing up in a new racially charged area where assumptions are made and racial slurs are slung in her direction without concern. Add that to the fact that Jasira is physically blossoming into a young woman wanting to begin exploring her sexuality and you have the recipe for some incendiary situations.

Though our protagonist is a young girl, there are very real adult situations happening all around her.  From looking at dirty magazines to hearing her Dad get it on with his new girlfriend, it appears Jasira can’t seem to get away from sex and her curiosity is piqued.   It’s her budding sexual appetite that propels the film forward.  When Jasira’s neighbor Mr. Vouso (a creepy Aaron Eckhart) strangely befriends the young girl, another nosy neighbor Melina (veteran screen actress Toni Collette), believing that something inappropriate is intended, steps in to act as a mentor to her.  While Jasira is growing up throughout the story, she is in many ways too naïve to understand what is taking place close to her.

One of the most complex characters in the film is Peter Macdissi’s Rifat, who is struggling with his own identity trying to find his comfort zone in the world.  Privately he prays for the capture of Saddam Hussein (it’s set in the Gulf War era), but won’t debate the situation with his army reservist neighbor Vuoso, who stereotypes him a Saddam apologist.  Rifat is also a disciplinarian, showing little interest in giving any leeway to his child yet he’s rarely home to share his time with her, thereby giving her plenty of freedom anyway.

It’s written and directed by Alan Ball, the Academy Award winning screenwriter of American Beauty.  While it’s Ball’s first feature film (he does have directing experience in TV’s Six Feet Under), he understands actors and allows them room to move.  It’s the acting performances are this film’s strength.  Eckhart continues to further the idea that he is one of the best actors around as he brings a likeable, innocent quality to the devious Vouso.  He may have been two-faced in The Dark Knight but he has three full dimensions here.  Also noteworthy was youngster Eugene Jones, who as Jasira’s black boyfriend Thomas, captures the pseudo-innocence of young male sexual urges all to well.  Thomas bonds with Jasira through being racial outcasts at school and they quickly begin their youthful exploration of sex.

This is a film about racism, stereotypes and the grasp to universally understand these difficult issues.  The slurs used in the film are heavy and harsh but Ball also allows some of the situations to generate humor.  Some of it genuinely funny and some of it awkward and gut-wrenching, yet still forcing you to laugh uncomfortably nonetheless.  But I think that is kind of how we often treat race and racial issues.  We laugh at things or people that are different from us or at that which we do not know.

You get the sense that this film has Oscar potential.  If that does happen, odds are that it would be for Bishil’s acting.  I don’t know that this will happen or if it is even worthy of it in my mind, but when an 18-year old is playing 13 as convincingly as this and her character is dealing with very adult themes, sometimes the Academy comes-a-callin’.  2003′s Whale Rider saw Keisha Castle-Hughes get an acting nomination so it’s not without precedent to see something similar take place here.

Unfortunately, the film is not without its share of problems.  It tries to find the soul within the characters ugliness and discomfort and it struggles to capture this at times.  There are also a few scenes, scenarios, or even character traits that didn’t feel genuine enough to me, even though it is based on autobiographical events.  This version of the film has lost 20 minutes in length from the one that showed at Sundance in January and I wonder if that is a good or a bad thing in the end.  Less is generally more, but here there are still some unanswered questions that plagued this viewer.  The hard-hitting climax we are expecting to come feels like more of a slap on the wrist.  Towelhead is interesting, well-acted, and I am sure it intended to send a strong message.  I am just not entirely clear on what that message is.

Merriam-Webster dictionary describes the term “wack” as being slang for lousy or lame.  In my book, it’s an accurate enough description.  The film The Wackness is a dope (literally) coming of age story with a comedic edge.  In the hip-hop soaked streets of New York City in 1994, new High School graduate Luke Shapiro (Nickelodeon TV star Josh Peck) occupies his time slinging vast amounts of weed (dope) throughout the landscape.  One of his main clients is Dr. Jeff Squires (Ben Kingsley) who trades Luke therapy time for his guanja.  Luke is looking for love and it so happens, that Squires’ step-daughter Stephanie (Juno’s Olivia Thirlby) is one of the few recent grads who isn’t leaving home for the summer to party, so an opportunity may present itself.  These are the main players in the crowd-pleaser that was the 2008 Sundance Dramatic Audience Award Winner.

Luke is a loner who seems to know many people but connect with none.  When he starts to open up to Dr. Squires during one of his many weed brokering opportunities, the two begin to notice a potential to pick one another out of their respective ruts.  They both share a common desire for sex (not with each other), though Squires’ warns Luke to stay away from Stephanie in this matter.  When inevitably Stephanie and Luke grow closer, she tells Luke that he should focus on the positive things in his life, but instead he chooses to focus on “The Wackness”. Hence, the film’s theme is evident.

Squires and Shapiro’s storylines parallel one another in many ways throughout the film.  Luke struggles with growing up and his troubled home life and really, those are Squires’ issues too.  As Kingsley’s Dr. Squires starts to unravel with his marriage in shambles, there seems to be no bottom for him as he continues to sink further into troubled waters, medicating with more drugs to deal with the despair that he faces.  It sounds tragic, but Kingsley shows a sense of humor here that he doesn’t get to exhibit often enough.  Gandhi, this is not.

Directed by relative newbie Jonathan Levine this is a New York film through and through and it works on a lot of levels.  Levine handles the story with a veteran’s steady presence but displays enough creativity to break the film free from predictability.  The younger crowd gets Peck and Thirlby in a theme that should be familiar to them.  Mature adults get Kingsley who delivers a solid performance by exploring a different type of character.  Early hip-hop fans get small portions of the culture at a time when most critics considered it to be at its peak.  This film reminds me some of another coming of age story, 2000′s Finding Forrester.  Though Wackness is lighter in tone, they share a common theme with a struggling youth and troubled blue-hair forming an unlikely bond with one another.

This film has a top-notch hip-hop soundtrack, one of the best to hit screens in years.  Sonically, it faithfully takes you back to that early 90′s era, with NY hip-hop stalwarts Biggie (RIP), Nas, and A Tribe Called Quest all represented.  There are small performances in abundance from recognizable names here as well.  Included in the mix are a hippied-out Mary-Kate Olsen and a Rastafarian Method Man as a drug kingpin of sorts.  Boxing fans may even notice the small role by ex-Heavyweight Champion Shannon Briggs.

As both writer and director Levine handles the film with an assured confidence, owning the subject matter.  There are only two real stumbling blocks in the film.  The sub plot centering on Luke’s family troubles and their potential eviction fails to work in full.  Too little screen time was devoted to this storyline for it to be truly impactful.  Also, Famke Janssen (X-Men’s Jean Grey) who plays Jeff’s wife, is truly underutilized.  Her Kristin gets to wallow in her own form of sadness regarding their marriage but she gets to show so little range that her outcome is too obvious for the duration.

As a whole, the humor in the pic tends to hit the right notes throughout, even if Kingsley often teeters that brink.  When Luke is trying to tell his new flame that he loves her, he goes through all the different ways he can deliver the line, exploring options from the basic “I love you” to “Yo Shorty, I got mad love for you.” This is honest, funny and touching at the same time.  It’s the type of moment where the script delivers and the acting ability of Peck stands out.  He is one to watch and Levine knows what he has in him utilizing him to the best degree.  Peck exhibits a spectrum of emotions in a film that at times could have gone the American Pie route in less capable hands.  There was a depth and sincerity to his performance that you don’t often see from young actors, let alone those from Nickelodeon.  Mr. Mariah Carey, Nick Cannon, I’m talking to you.  In the end, The Wackness is anything but.

Before the Devil Knows You’re Dead is a solid psychological crime thriller with a capable Oscar-caliber cast.  The plot revolves around brothers Andy and Hank Hanson’s opportunistic crime, an innocent robbery that hopes to leave them with naturally thicker pockets where nobody is truly victimized.  Phillip Seymour Hoffman’s Andy, who hatches the seemingly perfect scheme to presumably help cure him of some personal demons recruits his hapless brother, Hank (a manic, Ethan Hawke) to do the dirty work. But this seemingly easy Mom and Pop job (a jewelry store) left in Hank’s hands leads to disastrous results.  The ensuing drama is not so much in the robbery plot but the characters desperation as they begin to lose their footing and their lives unspool in a vicious cycle.

Directed by the venerable Sidney Lumet (Dog Day Afternoon), Devil is presented in an out of order puzzle, similar to Tarantino’s Pulp Fiction, where the viewer has to put the pieces back together into a chronological framework.  This serves as an effective pace setter that keeps the audience off kilter.  For a Director known for shooting primarily in New York, he allows the city to serve as no more than a backdrop here, not like a living, breathing character as has been displayed in some of his past films.

An eager cast brings the story to life.  This one allows the mischievous Hoffman to take advantage of his considerable acting range, his Hank evolving from troubled real estate accountant to self-loathing husband to sadistic son with sometimes less than subtle notes.  Though the robbery serves as the plots centerpiece, it’s Hank’s surprising unraveling that keeps the film rooted in human drama.  This one plays more like Glengarry Glen Ross than Serpico.

All of the characters are tortured though the script leaves a few of them less than fully realized.  Hawke, as the bumbling brother Hank, is great when desperate but perhaps a bit too one note when it comes to his being intimidated by nearly anyone he comes across.  A sad and distant Marisa Tomei is essentially window dressing here but a pretty and revealing one at that, as Hank’s two timing wife, Gina.  Albert Finney rounds out the cast as Charles Hanson, playing both part grieving Father to the boys and part detective in another slightly one-note role.  All give solid performances throughout although they seem sliced from a too familiar pie.

While the actor’s do their best to pull the words from the page to screen, it’s newbie Kelly Masterson’s script that essentially holds them back.  Though he may be one to look out for in the future, these characters are drawn in too predictable a style and Lumet relies on a useful but probably unnecessary editing style that a tighter script wouldn’t fall victim to.  While its an entertaining ride that will leave you guessing the outcome to the very end, it still leaves you a little hollow wondering what could have been with the incredible cast that was here to represent.