Another one of those busy weeks. If you’re not as overwhelmed as I am, perhaps you’ll have time to see some movies.
Recommended: Flags of Our Fathers, 4Star, ongoing. The film that Saving Private Ryan 
should have been. According to director Clint Eastwood and screenwriters William Broyles Jr. and Paul Haggis, raising the flag on Iwo Jima wasn’t a particularly heroic act. Plenty of people acted courageously, and many of them died that way, in the horribly bloody 40-day battle. Yet the actual flag-raising (the second flag-raising, actually) happened in a safe, secured location. But the famous photo made it look heroic, and the War Department needed heroes. The filmmakers cut between the battle itself and a War Bonds tour starring the three flag raisers who survived the rest of the battle, contrasting the horrors of war with the absurdity of wartime propaganda. It also shows us three very believable young men trapped both in carnage and in what they see as undeserved hero-worship.
Recommended: Shut Up and Sing, Parkway, opening Friday. We all know what happened when Dixie Chick lead singer Natalie Maines spoke her mind during the lead-up to the Iraqi War. But if you haven’t seen Barbara Kopple and Cecilia Peck’s documentary, you probably don’t know the group dynamics that helped the trio, their management, and their families cope with the hatred, lost revenue, and death threats that followed. Or how the experience helped them grow as people and as musicians. One complaint: Kopple and Peck should have let us hear and see an entire song, performed from beginning to end, at least once.
Recommended, with Reservations: 3 Needles, Roxie, opening Friday. Thom Fitzgerald 
tells three stories about AIDS and poverty, set in China, Canada, and South Africa. But the farther Fitzgerald strays from Western Civilization, the less sure his storytelling becomes. The opening Chinese section is a complete washout, confusing as pure narrative and lacking any emotional punch beyond the simplest of manipulations. The closing South African tale improves on that one, but largely misses the point by focusing on white missionaries. Only when Fitzgerald returns to his native Canada in the middle section does he tell a good story, this time about of a porn actor (Shawn Ashmore) hiding his HIV-positive status from his co-workers, and the moral dilemmas his actions thrust upon his religious mother (Stockard Channing).
Recommended, with Reservations: The Rules of the Game, Pacific Film Archive, Friday, 7:00. I know; everyone else considers this one of cinema’s great masterpieces–an immensely important influence on many filmmakers (one can hardly imagine Robert Altman’s career without it). And yes, I’ve read all about its deep and important commentary on the class system and the institution of marriage. But all I see is a modest comedy of manners without much comedy and nothing exceptional to say about our manners. For me, Grand Illusion remains Renior’s masterpiece. Another new 35mm print for the Janus Films series.
Recommended: Beauty and the Beast (1946), Pacific Film Archive, Saturday, 5:00.
Many years ago, I attended a double bill of the original King Kong and Jean Cocteau’s haunting retelling of the famous fairytale. The audience, mostly young children, ruined Kong by running, playing, and talking throughout the screening. I cringed, imagining how bad those little devils would behave when confronted with a slow-paced, atmospheric film with subtitles. But when Beauty and the Beast came on, they sat quiet, spellbound by a story they all knew but had never imagined it quite like this. The Archive will screen a new, 35mm print as part of its Janus Films series.
Noteworthy: The Moon Is Blue, Rafael, Sunday, 7:00. Otto Preminger’s 1953 romantic comedy (which I’ve never seen) played an important role in the history of film censorship. Preminger refused to make the cuts necessary for production code authorization, and United Artists released the picture without the censors’ official seal of approval–pretty much unthinkable for a major studio at that time. Despite (or perhaps because) of this controversy, the movie was a huge hit, putting a chink in the armor of Hollywood’s self-censoring institution, which would continually loosen up until it became the ratings board 15 years later. As part of its Otto Preminger series, the Rafael will screen a restored print.
Recommended: Harakiri, Pacific Film Archive, 
Sunday, 6:40. Absolutely the best samurai film not made by Akira Kurosawa. A samurai (Kurosawa regular Tatsuya Nakadai) comes to a fort and asks permission to kill himself, then tells a harrowing tale of poverty made unbearable by the strict samurai code. Director Masaki Kobayashi had no love for feudal Japan’s social structure, which he shows as cruel, arrogant, and hypocritical. Part of the Archive’s Janus Samurai series, and yes, it’s a new 35mm print.
Recommended: The Thief of Bagdad (1924), Niles Essanay Silent Film Museum, Saturday, 7:30. What’s more fun than state-of-the-art special effects? State-of-the-art special effects circa 1924. Douglas Fairbanks’ massively spectacular Arabian Nights fantasy never actually fools you into thinking a horse can fly, but the clever effects and imaginative set design inspire awe and delight all the same. As does Fairbanks’ performance as the energetic and happily ambitious thief. Don’t expect actual Arabian flavor here; this is pure early Hollywood fancy. And don’t expect 21st century racial attitudes in Fairbanks’ treatment of the Chinese. Accompanied by Bruce Loeb on piano.
Recommended: Singin’ In the Rain, Cerrito, Saturday, 6:00, Sunday, 5:00. In 1952, the
late twenties were a fond memory of an innocent time, and nostalgia was a large part of Singin’ in the Rain’s appeal. The nostalgia is gone now, and we can clearly see this movie for what it is: the greatest musical ever filmed, and perhaps the best work of pure escapist entertainment to ever come out of Hollywood. Take out the songs, and you have one of the best comedies of the 1950’s, and the funniest movie Hollywood ever made about itself. But take out the songs, and you take out the best part. Just don’t take its story–about the talkie revolution–seriously as film history. For what it’s worth, screenwriter Betty Comden died last week (her creative partner, Adolph Green, died a few years ago), so you can think of this screening–booked before she died–as a memorial to one of musical comedy’s most talented teams. Part of the Cerrito Classics series.
Recommended, with Reservations: Unfaithfully Yours, Stanford, Wednesday and Thursday. Preston Sturges’ last memorable film lacks the social bite and wall-to-wall laughs of his wartime work at Paramount, but it’s funny enough to justify 105 minutes of your time and the price of a ticket. Rex Harrison plays a symphony conductor who believes his wife is cheating on him, and imagines his revenge set to classical music. But outside of dreams, revenge proves an elusive goal. On a double-bill with Molly and Me.
Recommended: The Big Lebowski, Cerrito, weeknights, starting Friday. Critics originally 
panned this Coen Brothers gem as a disappointing follow-up to the Coen’s previous endeavor, Fargo. Well, it isn’t as good as Fargo, but it’s still one hell of a funny movie.
Recommended: The Departed, Parkway, opening Friday. Alfred Hitchcock once said he didn’t mind plot holes as long as they went unnoticed until the audience was driving home. That’s exactly how my wife and I reacted to Martin Scorsese’s all-star remake of the Hong Kong police thriller Infernal Affairs. As long we were in the theater, Scorsese’s intense police thriller about two undercover moles–one a cop pretending to be a gangster, the other a gangster pretending to be a cop–riveted our eyes to the screen. Talking about the movie on the way home, the problems kept coming up. But Hitchcock was right. The Departed carries you along like a river, offering fascinating characters portrayed by some of the biggest and most talented male stars around, moral ambiguity, graphic violence, and surprising plot twists that heighten the suspense. So what if it’s full of holes. This is Scorsese’s least ambitious, and his best, film in years.
Bayflicks 