A Marwencol, Lumiere, Shattuck, opens Friday for a one-week run. Five men attacked Mark Hogancamp with such viciousness he lost 
his entire memory and considerable brain function. Now he uses Barbie Dolls, GI Joe-type action figures, and models to create a fantasy world centering on a fictitious town in World War II Europe. There, Mark’s rugged and macho-looking alter ego runs a bar, gets wooed by beautiful women, and fights the SS. Hogancamp’s elaborate and carefully-created fantasies carry a great deal of this completely unique and insightful documentary. The rest depends on Hogancamp’s history and personality. A heterosexual cross-dresser who had to learn everything all over again in his late 30s, he makes a fitting subject for the best new documentary I’ve seen this year. Read my full review.
A The Treasure of the Sierra Madre, Stanford, Saturday through Monday. Three down-on-their-luck Yankees (Humphrey Bogart, Tim Holt, and the director’s father, Walter Huston) prospect for gold in Mexico. They find and stake out a profitable mine before discovering that they don’t really trust each other. Writer/director John Huston, working from B. Traven’s novel, turned a rousing adventure story into a morality play about the corruption of greed. On a double bill with In a Lonely Place, which I haven’t seen.
B+ The Crimson Pirate, Pacific Film Archive, 
Saturday, 6:30. Before he became a movie star, Burt Lancaster earned his living as an acrobat, and in the early 1950s he put those circus skills to wonderful use in two Technicolor, tongue-and-cheek swashbucklers. He also put his acrobatic partner, Nick Cravat, to wonderful use as his sidekick. In The Crimson Pirate, Lancaster leads his buccaneers into a scheme to double-cross both the king’s men and the revolutionaries fighting for their freedom. But things get complicated. The stunts are spectacular, Lancaster and Cravat are clearly enjoying their antics, and almost everything is played for laughs. I actually prefer his other swashbuckler, The Flame and the Arrow, but I’m in the minority there. Part of the series Grin, Smile, Smirk: The Films of Burt Lancaster.
C La Strada, Castro, Wednesday. Back when I was in high school, this became the first old, black-and-white, European, subtitled film I ever fell in love with. But it turned out to be one of those loves you eventually outgrow. Giulietta Masina brilliantly plays a simple, innocent girl sold by her parents to a coarse, crude, and violent traveling strongman (Anthony Quinn in another strong performance). But for all the great acting, Fellini’s 1954 heartbreaker comes off now as shallow. Even worse, it manages to romanticize child abuse. (Or is it spouse abuse? The movie is never too sure about that.) On a double bill with Fellini Satyricon, which I saw once long ago, barely remember, but didn’t like.
B Donnie Darko, Cerrito, Friday and Saturday, midnight. How many alienated-teenager-
in-suburbia-time-travel-science-fantasy comedies can you name? Okay, there’s Back to the Future and its sequels, but add the adjectives horrific and surreal to that description, and Donnie Darko stands alone. And how many alienated movie teenagers have to deal with a slick self-help guru and a six-foot rabbit named Frank (think Harvey, only vicious). It’s not entirely clear what’s going on in this strange movie, but that just adds to the fun.
Sweet Smell of Success, Pacific Film Archive, Saturday, 8:40. It’s been too long since I’ve seen Burt Lancaster’s Broadway noir for me to trust my memory with a wholehearted recommendation. But not by much. Lancaster risked his career by producing this exploration of the seamy side of fame and by playing a truly despicable character. The result, if I recall correctly, is fantastic. Tony Curtis co-stars, from a script by Ernest (North by Northwest) Lehman. Another part of the series Grin, Smile, Smirk: The Films of Burt Lancaster.
C Sing-Along Sound of Music, Castro, Friday through Sunday. Many people love it, but I find the biggest money maker of the 1960s lumbering, slow, and dull. Not funny or 
romantic enough to be light entertainment, yet lacking the substance to be anything else. And as for the songs…in their last collaboration, Roger and Hammerstein were clearly running out of steam. On the other hand, the Todd-AO photography of Alpine landscapes makes this one of the most visually beautiful of Hollywood movies. I’ve never experienced a Sing-Along Sound of Music presentation, however. This might be something entirely different.
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