All reviews written by Brian Schiller, '05, unless otherwise noted.

Fall 2003 Films:

Adaptation. (2002)

Charlie Kaufman (Confessions of a Dangerous Mind) walks the fine line between genius and insanity with his screenplay for Adaptation. On one hand, Kaufman is given the task of adapting a novel almost devoid of plot and characters. On the other, he is forced to struggle with the pressures of Hollywood life, following up a critical success, and his own lack of self-confidence. Finding the balance, it seems, is where his true genius lies. A film that defies conventional criticism, Adaptation. winds its viewers along several twists and turns and deposits them somewhere along the New Jersey Turnpike.

The allusion to Kaufman's previous screenplay for Being John Malkovich is not wholly unwarranted, as the film opens with Kaufman, being lathered with praise, is offered a follow-up job, the adaptation of Susan Orlean's novel, The Orchid Thief. Lost in his success, Kaufman chronicles his struggles in his own personal life alongside his frustration in trying to adapt Orlean's plotless, sprawling novel into something both marketable and true to the source. The end result combines all of Kaufman's issues and wraps them up into one unconventional, intricate screenplay.

Fortunately, Kaufman's screenplay is backed by several outstanding acting performances. Nicolas Cage (Leaving Las Vegas), playing both Charlie Kaufman and his fictitious twin Donald, was nominated for an Academy Award for the dual role. As the author Orlean, Meryl Streep (Sophie's Choice) excels alongside Chris Cooper (October Sky), whose performance as the eccentric John LaRoche won him the Academy Award and countless other awards for Best Supporting Actor. Working again with Spike Jonze as director (Kaufman and Jonze collaborated on Being John Malkovich), Charlie Kaufman provides the written fuel for another brilliant film. See the allstu.

Spider (2003)

Dennis "Spider" Clegg (Ralph Fiennes, Quiz Show) begins this film standing at a train station, apparently with some semblance of where he's going and what he's doing. However, his constant muttering and awkward approach to the everyday world leaves the audience in wonder at this seemingly inept human being. David Cronenberg (The Dead Zone, eXistenZ) gives his audience no immediate guide to Spider's state of mind, but Cronenberg's direction leads both Spider and his audience down his schizophrenic past. He uses muted lighting and hazy cinematography to mirror Spider's lack of clarity with his past and present conceptions of the world. The film, made up almost entirely of Spider's memories of his childhood, show amazing control and play out like a very low-key mystery, forcing the viewer to figure out what exactly caused this man to become the dissheveled incoherent figure that he is.

The mostly unintelligible Spider Clegg's directions lead him to a halfway house, run by a rather ornery Mrs. Wilkinson (Lynn Redgrave, Gods and Monsters). Now living near his childhood home, Spider recalls his youth, from his father's (Gabriel Byrne, The Usual Suspects) drinking and womanizing to his mother's (Miranda Richardson, Chicken Run) sweet charm and care. As a prostitute begins to tear the young Spider's father from his mother, Spider's schizophrenia makes it difficult to differentiate his checkered past from his present paranoid delusions. His recollection of his own past is hazy at best, and at times the many layers of his mind come rushing at once to the screen; he is simultaneously a young boy, a grown man, an embodiment of his father. The haunting nature of Spider's past and chilling perfection at which it is executed invite repeated viewings, if only to come to a better understanding of a very haunting and unforgettable anti-hero. See the allstu.

Dogtown and Z-Boys (2002)

Labeled as "the film about the birth of the now," Dogtown and Z-Boys is indeed an impressive and stylish documentary looking at the beginning of skateboarding culture in America. Focusing on the original Zephyr team of skateboarders, director Stacy Peralta (a former member of Team Zephyr) introduces the skaters as they rose from the roughest neighborhoods of Southern California. Starting as an offshoot of the SoCal surfing scene, the Z-Boys took the surfing to the streets, skating on school playgrounds and in abandoned swimming pools. Sometimes violent and territorial, the team pushed the limits of what was possible and decided to take to the air; the memory of Tony Alva's first aerial is still fresh in the minds of the Z-Boys some 30 years later. The original purpose of skating, we see, was not only to rebel against the mainstream, but also to form common bonds and to foster a feeling of unity among these young men.

With crisp photography and sharp editing, Peralta puts together a very fresh piece of work with his first feature-length documentary. Dogtown and Z-Boys at times doubles as a very elaborate commercial, as the tricks and slang depicted and remembered are themselves the origin of the word "cool." The reminiscence of the now-grown Z-Boys gives a level of reverence to the tone of the film. As much as this was just kid stuff to most of the world at the time, the Z-Boys epitomized the birth of skating that now is the source of international competitions and major advertising contracts. Accompanied by a soundtrack that is indicative of the time, Peralta's jagged camerawork and cocky humor fits the subject of the documentary perfectly. A stellar exhibition of modern culture, Dogtown and Z-Boys generates nostalgia even for those who have never touched a skateboard in their lives. See the allstu.

The Crossing Guard (1995)

Continuing with Spicoli Directs! Week, KFS brings the second of Sean Penn's three films, The Crossing Guard, to Kenyon. Up front, this film seems to have a very simple, straightforward plot of revenge and bloodlust. However, Penn, who also wrote and produced his second feature-length work, gives several supporting characters ample on-screen time and develops side plots and tangents with grace. No angle of the tragedy and drama in this film is left to the wayside, as Penn gives each character an ample chance to show their emotions on the screen.

Freddy Gale (Jack Nicholson, One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest) sits at home, despondent at the loss of his daughter years ago. He floats through his life, without any remaining purpose, only feeling anger and hatred towards the drunk driver that took the life of his daughter. When he learns that this accidental murderer (David Morse, Inside Moves) has been released from prison, he vows to anyone who will listen, including his former wife (Anjelica Huston, The Royal Tenenbaums), that he will not stop until his daughter's murderer is dead. After one failed attempt at killing off the repentant criminal, Gale gives him three days to live. From there, both men turn to others for help, but only find solace in each other.

The Crossing Guard evokes strong acting performances that give great depth to this family tragedy. Nicholson's character seems to be motivated only by revenge, but his actions lead one to believe that he's more interested in impressing his former wife, who has moved on with her life while he has not. Morse, as well, has a difficult time moving on from this tragedy, and when he seeks help in an artist (Robin Wright Penn, The Princess Bride) she tells him that she can't live with him until he can give up this guilt burning inside him. While the ending may come off as contrived or corny, The Crossing Guard finishes off with a dose of reality that is probably better than a more Hollywood ending. See the allstu.

The Pledge (2001)

The tension and energy that exists sporadically in The Crossing Guard comes out in full force in Sean Penn's third directorial work, The Pledge. In six years, Penn has matured greatly as a director, and in many ways The Pledge is a work at improving upon his style. The amount of improvement, consequently, is overwhelming. Penn calls on his trusted lead actor Jack Nicholson for another stellar performance, supported by one of the finer casts that Hollywood would have to offer.

The two films on the surface seem somewhat similar: Jerry Black (Nicholson) is a retiring police officer who has one last case to solve on his last day - the murder of a little girl. Black ends up delivering the bad news to the family of the girl, and from then on takes a pledge that he will find this murderer. A hot-headed detective (Aaron Eckhart, Any Given Sunday) beats a confession out of an unsuspecting Native American man (Benicio Del Toro, Traffic), but this does not convince Black, who continues obsessively along the trail. Slowly, Black feeds into his delusion, drawing raised eyebrows from his former colleagues, and taking steps far beyond what would be considered normal and safe to solve this mystery.

Penn takes leaps forward in The Pledge as a director by embracing the surroundings that he works with and giving much better visual representations of them. He has a great reverence for the emotions of his characters, and he paints them exquisitely in the settings they inhabit. With his intense performance, Nicholson takes charge of a cast of stellar actors (which also includes Vanessa Redgrave and Robin Wright Penn), and Penn makes the right move simply by letting these talented people play out their roles before the camera. See the allstu.

City of God (2003)

So, what happens when you transplant Martin Scorsese's Goodfellas into the slums of Rio de Janeiro?

As absurd a comparison as that might seem, City of God really isn't that far off of the Scorsese masterpiece. Fernando Meirelles (Domesticas) and his emerging co-director Katia Lund (who worked on Central Station) bring a very powerful, blazing picture depicting the Rio slum life and drug scene. Meirelles uses sharp, quick editing and dazzling portraits of Brazil that make even the dirty slums look crisp and beautiful. Based on a novel by Paulo Lins, Meirelles and Lind use their experience in commercials and documentaries to make this a visually captivating experience. As high-octane as a film can possibly get, City of God hits the ground running and doesn't slow down until the credits roll.

A film in three parts, City of God opens with a grown Rocket (Alexandre Rodrigues) standing on a soccer field. Rocket explains that the only way to tell his story is from the beginning, and so he begins as a boy, when he was in a light little trio of mischief and mayhem. The desire of power quickly snowballs, as a young vandal named Lil' Ze (Leandro Firmino da Hora) starts his takeover of the drug scene. He rules with his popular right-hand Bennie (Jonathan Haagensen) with an iron fist, and he seeks to drive out all of his competitors in the drug business. This leads to a war, fought by armies of 11-year olds with guns. Lost in the scene, Rocket manages to find his way out of the scene, and his photography lands him a job with a newspaper. It's his photojournalism of the violent place of his youth, though, that makes him a success. See the allstu.

Italian for Beginners (2002)

In 1995, certain directors in Denmark decided to take a stand against the increased usage of effects and unreality of plotlines in modern film. These directors, among them Thomas Vinterberg and Lars von Trier, developed a few principles and guidelines to use in making modern film a more accurate representation of real life. This manifesto, known as the Dogme '95, is the attempts of these purist directors both to rescue modern film from its downward spiral and to provide a set of guidelines for young, developing directors to follow. Though critics have complained about the dulled-down style and sheer boring nature of most of the Dogme '95 films, one in the series that changed many minds about the style is Lone Scherfig's, Italian for Beginners.

This character-driven romantic comedy opens at a Danish church, where a new minister (Andels W. Berthelsen) has been sent in to revive the community's spirituality. This minister, a widower, meets several lonely-hearted locals through a companion at his inn. Four of his residents are attending rudimentary Italian classes, and the other two are portrayed as native Italians. Amongst these people, Scherfig displays the rebirth of the town as well as a renewal of lost loves in these sad, lonesome folk.

The most triumphant sections of Italian for Beginners focus on the truly heartfelt performances and emotional outcries of this crew of Danish actors. The lightness and warmth of the film pervades into even the darkest of subplots, most of which focus on the deaths of parents. Getting back to the basics of the Dogme '95 movement, Scherfig (the series' first female director) creates a film that exemplifies life and the people within it, showcasing their everyday routine and celebrating it exuberantly. See the allstu.

The Fast Runner (Atanarjuat) (2002)

The first film to make a stand for the beautiful, crisp nature of digital film, first-time director Zacharias Kunuk's The Fast Runner (Atanarjuat) is at the very least an absolutely beautiful film. From its opening shots to its closing fade, Kunuk's digital camerawork is far and away the most realistic representation of nature and surroundings ever put to film. Fortunately, Kunuk's backdrop is the dazzling North Canadian Arctic region, and the story he presents is very worthy of its beautiful surroundings.

At the opening of the film, Tulimaq promises to his wife that one day, their sons Amaqjuaq (The Strong One) and Atanarjuat (The Fast Runner) will provide for them, and right the injustices that run rampant in their tribe. As the two boys grow up, they become the best hunters in their tribe, superior to Oki, son of the chief of the tribe, Sauri. Atuat, a young woman promised to Oki, slowly falls in love with Atanarjuat. Jealous, Oki sets out to get his revenge on Atanarjuat and his family.

Winning the Cannes Camera d'or, The Fast Runner (Atanarjuat) is a truly captivating experience. It truly transports the viewer into another time and place, filling the senses with the experience of living in this beautiful landscape it portrays. The film does run at an endurance-testing 172 minutes, but each frame of each scene is a vital element of the film's beauty. The first film made entirely in the Inuktitut language, The Fast Runner (Atanarjuat) is nothing short of a dazzling experience. See the allstu.

Chicago (2002)

Few moviegoers missed out on 2002's Academy Award Winner for Best Motion Picture, Chicago. Ron Marshall's silver-screen adaptation of Bob Fosse's Tony Award-Winning musical has most everything any filmgoer could want: from the artistic costumes and set design to the fantastic musical numbers and acting performances. Chicago took home six Academy Awards, as well as the Golden Globe for Best Picture, Musical/Comedy. Firing on all cylinders, Chicago is what some could consider the total package of a film experience.

Chicago opens with the semi-heroine Roxie Hart (Renee Zellweger, Nurse Betty) dreaming of becoming a star of the Chicago club scene, idolizing Velma Kelly (Catherine Zeta-Jones, Traffic). When Roxie's tryst with a furniture salesman goes awry, so does her plan to pin the murder on her unsuspecting husband (John C. Reilly, Magnolia). Roxie finds herself in the slammer, under command of Matron "Mama" Morton (Queen Latifah, Bringing out the Dead), and alongside her idol Kelly. Roxie pleads with the hotshot lawyer Billy Flynn (Richard Gere, Primal Fear), and together they attempt to take Chicago by storm.

Starting at the set design and costume concepts, Chicago is a fantastic adaptation of a Broadway stage play. Marshall pays severe attention to detail when intermingling scenes between reality and the stage. The acting performances also highlight this film, led by Catherine Zeta-Jones's Oscar-winning role as Velma Kelly. With its 13 Academy Award nominations and six wins, it seems clear that Chicago was the public's number one target for praise and applause this past award season.

The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers (2002)

In an attempt to completely captivate audiences the world over, director Peter Jackson (Heavenly Creatures) chose J.R.R. Tolkein's The Lord of the Rings as his source for what would come to be an epic film trilogy. Many thought that this would be a monstrous undertaking and would spoil the almost religious nature of the book. However, Jackson and his overly dedicated crew have worked around the clock to make sure that this trilogy of films not only satisfies the dedicated Tolkein fans, but also is massively appealing and entertaining to those who have never read the novel.

The second installment, The Two Towers, picks up right where the first film-The Fellowship of the Ring-left off. Realizing his plight, and the severity of the task he has been selected to carry out, Frodo Baggins treks on restlessly towards Mount Doom. He, his companion Samwise Gamgee, and their kidnapped stalker Gollum head towards the land of Mordor. Meanwhile, Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli charge onward in search of the two lost members of their party, Merry Brandybuck and Pippin Took. On their way, they find themselves at the center of a battle between the dark forces emerging from the hand of Saruman and the horse-men of Rohan.

Recipient of two Academy Awards for Sound Editing and Visual Effects, The Two Towers lives up to the epic precedent set by its predecessor. Jackson's finest skill here is his attention to detail; there is as much effort put into the wildly active and challenging scenes depicting the Battle of Helms Deep as there is into the sets and breathtaking scenery. Every shot of every scene looks crisp, fresh, and full of life-even in Mordor. Not only has Jackson revitalized the fantasy genre, he has left his indelible mark in film history by creating one of its greatest trilogies.

The Pianist (2002)

As well as Peter Jackson handles vibrant color and lighting schemes, Roman Polanski (Chinatown, Rosemary's Baby) does an exceptional job presenting muted tones and the gravity of a Holocaust survivor's experience in The Pianist. His Academy-Award winning directorial work depicts the life of Wladyslaw Szpilman, a noted pianist in pre-war Poland. Directing his first critically acclaimed film in almost thirty years, Polanski brings his name back in with the elite directors of his era with this performance.

At the film's onset, Szpilman-along with the audience-is thrust into a rather hostile environment, as his radio studio is being bombarded with cannon fire. The images of German occupation are not filtered out of the camera, and here Polanski gives the audience a horrifyingly vile depiction of the brutality of Holocaust life. As German occupation of Poland becomes more complete, Szpilman finds a way to live and hide out outside of the ghetto, but his existence is barely living, and he is removed from his one love, the piano. Disconnected from anything resembling a normal life, Szpilman is forced to witness and live through this tumultuous time when he has absolutely nothing to rely on.

On screen, The Pianist is fueled by the Academy-Award winning performance of Adrien Brody (Harrison's Flowers), whose portrayal is impressive both in acting talent and sheer physical presence. Brody's facial expressions and looks of desperation are all the audience needs to see how much this man is suffering. In addition, Brody dropped to 130 pounds for the performance, which is no small task for a man over six feet tall. His ghastly figure and Polanski's grim view make this a truly amazing and frighteningly realistic experience.

12 Angry Men (1957)

The simplicity and solemnity of Sidney Lumet's 12 Angry Men is at its heart the reason the film succeeds. There are no extravagant sets, no suspensions of disbelief. This screenplay, penned by Reginald Rose, asks that the viewer be open and willing to hear the arguments put forth. It draws each viewer in, practically placing each person in the cramped, stifling jury room along with these twelve jurors. Lumet (Network, Dog Day Afternoon) takes what could very plainly be a double episode of Law and Order and transforms it into a truly classic film.

Opening on "the hottest day of the year," twelve jurors shuffle their way from the jury box into their jury room after a rather dull, seemingly open-and-shut murder case. Juror #8 (Henry Fonda, The Grapes of Wrath), however, disagrees, and thinks that there are some questions that were left unanswered by the trial. Slowly, he goes over his discrepancies, and, much to the surprise of some jurors, he has some very valid arguments. Whether or not the defendant is innocent is important, what matters here is the Constitutional principle of reasonable doubt.

12 Angry Men asks for very demanding performances from each of its 12 main actors, and the ensemble responds to the challenge. The emotional tension of the rest of the cast-which includes Lee J. Cobb, Jack Klugman, and E.G. Marshall-is palpable as heated arguments flare up in the cramped room. Adapted from a stage play, 12 Angry Men was a landmark film at its time, garnering three Academy Award nominations. Its classic status is cinched by the fact that it is still relevant and regarded today, almost 50 years after its creation.

Rope (1948)

Like Wednesday's 12 Angry Men, Alfred Hitchcock's Rope was originally a stage play entitled "Rope's End" by Patrick Hamilton (Gaslight); it was later adapted for Hitchcock by noted actor Hume Cronyn (The Postman Always Rings Twice). Hitchcock gives the feel of a stage play with his unique and unparalleled directorial style in this film. The entire 80-minute film is intended to be one take, and was filmed in only a day. Carefully planning his cuts (since only about 10 minutes of film could be captured on one reel), Hitchcock hid his editing very well and gave the illusion of fluid, realistic motion. The actors and actresses were made to memorize their lines and work with minimal time between breaks, as if they were working on a stage play.

Rope's plot is right up Hitchcock's alley; loosely based on the Leopold and Loeb murder case, it follows two boys (John Dall and Farley Granger) who kill a fellow student for the sake of killing and the thrill of danger. To add to their amusement-and the sickening nature of the crime-they invite friends over for a dinner party while their dead colleague lie hidden in a desk in the living room. One of the guests is their old headmaster, Rupert Cadell (Jimmy Stewart), who educated these boys in the studies of Neitzchian philosophy on the ubermensch and unimportance of lesser human beings. For these reasons, the boys think he will delight in figuring out their ruse, and they take great entertainment in ushering friends of the deceased around his body. Hitchcock plays with the minds of his viewers and hides sickening humor inside this delectable classic.

High Noon (1952)

In 1952, the genre of the Western was at its peak. The audience was used to the fairly straightforward plot: the clean-cut hero takes on a loathsome villain, saves the day, and impresses the girl. Fred Zinnemann (From Here to Eternity) intended to challenge this archetype in High Noon. Zinnemann and his crew ran the risk of being "un-American" in an era of McCarthyism; in fact, several crew members were blacklisted after its completion. While he confounded and disappointed some audience members, his pacing and blending of thematic elements placed High Noon in the elite class of Westerns.

The film itself, more of a morality play than a traditional Western, opens with Will Kane (Gary Cooper, Sergeant York) at about 10 A.M. on his wedding day. Unfortunately, a trio of outlaws has rolled into town, and Marshall Kane knows that he will be forced to deal with when the time comes. Over the course of the movie, Kane attempts to rally the townspeople against these vandals, finding who is loyal to him and his cause.

The trick editing in High Noon splices the scenes with the clock tower in town. The film is one of the first movies done specifically in real-time, edited so that each minute on screen is a minute in time off-screen as well. Another break from Western trend that Zinnemann instituted was the dearth of shooting and violence before the gunslinging finale. Zinnemann focuses on his storyline and character development, particularly building up his faceless villain. In the end, the acting, writing, music, and black-and-white cinematography mix together perfectly to create a landmark Western film.

Ma Vie en Rose (My Life in Pink) (1997)

Alain Berliner's Ma Vie en Rose is at its heart a story of an alternative childhood. From its opening, Ludovic, the film's 7-year old protagonist, has decided that his sex at birth was a mistake. His second X-chromosome simply "got lost," and he is hell bent on setting his genetics right by trying to become a girl. So, in his new suburban French neighborhood, Ludovic dresses in girl's clothing and plays "marriage" with his best friend and neighbor, Jerome. Unfortunately for Ludovic's father, Jerome's father is his new boss and is not at all amused at Ludovic's behavior.

One of the most endearing features of Ma Vie en Rose is its simplicity and innocence. This isn't a film specifically about transgender or homosexual issues, but is simply about a young boy who thinks he should be a girl. In his childhood realm, there is nothing considered inappropriate with his behavior or dress. It is in the adult world where such stigmas lie, and the adults in this film are no exception. Ludovic's and Jerome's parents-as well as the rest of the community-are well aware of how "inappropriate" this behavior is, and they stroll around as a sort of Gender Police trying to right Ludovic's path. Piloted by a heartwarming debut performance by Georges du Fresne as Ludovic, Ma Vie en Rose is sometimes a harshly real film, but Berliner maintains a warm, humorous tone running throughout the film.

jackass: the movie (2002)

Anyone who has watched one episode of MTV's jackass has at the very least a vague idea of what the jackass crew will do for nothing more than sheer pleasure and uncontrollable humor.

Now, imagine what they'd do with a five million dollar budget.

That's right. jackass comes to the big screen with more creative new ideas than Party Boy could dance at. Thankfully, the cast and crew did not vary from their tried and true methods from the TV show: this film is 90 minutes of graphic, crude, slapstick comedy, not to mention the deleted scenes and outtakes. While certain critics claim that such a film is degrading, juvenile, and moronic, people who can actually admit that they're still fifteen years old at heart exit the theater laughing hysterically at the utterly ridiculous sights they have just seen.

Much like Friday night's Ma Vie en Rose, jackass: the movie explores the innocence of childhood and its mischief. Its subjects, though, happen to be grown-up skater kids. From its epic opening featuring the entire cast riding a shopping cart to "O Fortuna," jackass: the movie proves to be every bit as enjoyable as its small-screen counterpart, if not more entertaining. On film, director Jeff Tremaine isn't limited by profanity, so this is truly the closest portrayal of what their reckless lives are like. To give away just what Johnny Knoxville and his sophomoric counterparts are up to in this film would spoil the fun, but fans of the series will definitely not be disappointed.

Igby Goes Down (2002)

In what has inevitably been subtitled Catcher in the Rye on Film, Burr Steers's Igby Goes Down succeeds where so many other films have failed. By providing a dominant lead performance by Kieran Culkin and a well-written original screenplay, Steers's first feature-length work takes its title character through adolescence. Few films have tried to capture this young, impressionable period, and fewer still have pulled it off with such accuracy.

Igby is the product of a massively dysfunctional family, consisting of a perfectionist mother (Susan Sarandon, Bull Durham), a father in a mental institution (Bill Pullman, Zero Effect), and a disaffectionate, snobby brother (Ryan Phillippe, Gosford Park). Working his way through several convoluted subplots, Igby escapes from private schools and becomes far too involved in the social dramas of others. These dramas shape his persona, and Igby's change and growth are at the heart of the film. Since the whole film is told in flashback, Igby is narrating his reactions and change to the experiences he sees.

While the comparisons to Catcher in the Rye are warranted, this film is in no way a direct interpretation, modernization, or rehash of Salinger's work. Burr Steers-who worked with Quentin Tarantino to write Pulp Fiction-shines as a writer here, taking his independent work immediately to a very high level. As well as Steers does with his writing, he directs Culkin through his first lead role, which has all the elements of a breakthrough performance. By its close, Culkin and Steers have risen above whatever flaws the film may have and make it a very successful debut performance.

About Schmidt (2002)

Critically acclaimed and award-winning, Alexander Payne's third film, About Schmidt, marks him as one of the finest directors in his generation. Payne (Citizen Ruth, Election) keeps a sobering sense of realism in his films, even if it sometimes carries an overzealous tone. Payne's ability to control his eccentric tendencies and capture reality at its most grave and heartbreaking takes this film to a level above his already accomplished work. The same can be said about the lead, Jack Nicholson (Five Easy Pieces), who departs from his notoriously "zany" roles to deliver a very subtly moving performance.

Walter Schmidt (Nicholson) leaves his job for the last time at the age of 65, and wakes up the next morning with nothing to do. Despite his complaints, his daughter Jeannie (Hope Davis, American Splendor) plans her wedding to a lowly mattress salesman (Dermot Mulroney, Lovely and Amazing) without his help. After his wife unexpectedly dies, Schmidt is forced to reexamine his life and try to give it some meaning again. His ensuing journey guides him over the highlights of his life and deposits him in Colorado at his daughter's wedding.

Nicholson took home his unprecedented sixth Golden Globe award for his low-key performance, and Payne's adapted screenplay of the Louis Begley novel netted him his first Golden Globe. Payne's witty style is marked in this film, with the inclusion of a few of Schmidt's quirky encounters cued by Rolfe Kent's idiosyncratic score. Kathy Bates (Misery) excels as Jeannie's new eccentric mother-in-law in an Academy Award nominated performance. The finest points, though, come from Payne's subtle, graceful attention to detail and unflinching eye for bitter reality.

Lovely and Amazing (2002)

When writing and directing a film featuring an ensemble cast made up of several leading actresses, the writer or director is more often than not seeking to make a point or reveal some universal truth. This is not the case with Nicole Holofcener's Lovely and Amazing, which succeeds for its focus on reality and truth instead of trying to beat a point into the audience's head. Everything that transpires in Lovely and Amazing is nothing more than true, and characters aren't threaded along facetious plotlines to entertain the audience.

The depth and development of the leading actresses is almost palpable. Jane is a mother of three who is mourning the death of her husband along with her adopted daughter Annie. Her two other daughters, Michelle and Elizabeth, suffer from their own conceptions of their failures. Michelle can't sell any of her artwork, and her days consist of watching cartoons with her children. Elizabeth, horrified of her own body, is convinced she isn't sexy enough to make it in Hollywood.

Convinced she is overweight and unattractive, Jane (Brenda Blethyn, Secrets & Lies) has decided to undergo liposuction. Her two daughters, Michelle (Catherine Keener, Being John Malkovich) and Elizabeth (Emily Mortimer, Elizabeth) try their best to oversee their mother's outpatient surgery, but when complications arise, they take care of Jane's eight-year old adopted daughter Annie (Raven Goodwin, The Station Agent). When Michelle is forced into working, she takes a part-time job at a one-hour photo working with a seventeen-year old (Jake Gyllenhaal, Donnie Darko). Annie is a confused young African-American girl. Because her adoptive mother is white, she doesn't understand why she can't have her mother's skin or why the difference matters at all. Elizabeth can't fathom why this popular, attractive celebrity (Dermot Mulroney, About Schmidt) has suddenly taken a liking to her.

Frailty (2002)

Bill Paxton's feature length directorial effort Frailty is most terrifying because its precedent seems almost plausible. A father (Paxton, A Simple Plan) comes to his two young boys in the middle of the night, telling them he has received a message from God. God has granted this father the ability to see demons, and has provided him with the tools necessary to remove them from the earth so they may be saved. The demons look just like regular people, so there's no telling who they may be. His two sons are divided in their reactions. The older son, Fenton, is skeptical of his father's claims and even more horrified when he carries out the acts. Adam, the younger son, follows his father blindly and doesn't understand his brother's reluctance.

The film is told mainly through flashback, as one of the grown sons (Matthew McConaughey, Lone Star) confesses the crimes of his father to an FBI agent investigating the killings. The flashback narrative allows for some intensely dark, shadowed scenes. Since all the killings take place in a barn, lighting is particularly dim, and Paxton uses the darkness to his advantage in expressing the horrors taking place off-camera. The setting is so bleak that hopelessness pervades every frame. While the elements are rather stereotypical for such a low-budget offering, there is considerably more packed into this film because the characters and scenarios seem so surrealistic, but at the same time are completely convincing.

Ringu (1998)

The source for 2002's The Ring, the Japanese cult horror film Ringu was previously available in the Unites States only as a bootleg cassette tape. Part of the mystery and suspense of the film came along with the fact that the actual tapes distributed around the black market closely resembled the unlabeled, weathered videotape in the film. Now in major distribution along with its American counterpart, Ringu loses that mysterious element, but the film's scare tactics and suspense are unaffected.

Two girls discuss this "killer videotape" that brings death to those who watch it after seven days. After one of the girls admits to having seen it a week ago, she and her three accomplices meet their horrific ends. A curious aunt decides to look into the deaths, and she brings along with her ex-husband. After the two of them finally view the tape, they have seven days to lift the curse from themselves. Their investigations take them to a volcanic island where a mother and daughter died long ago of rather suspicious circumstances.

Comparisons to Gore Verbinski's The Ring are inevitable, though neither film can truly be considered superior to the other. While Verbinski's remake of Hideo Nataka's original work strings out the horror over the course of the film, Nataka allows for a long period of development and mystery to fill the middle portion of the film. Nataka, instead of capturing several horrifying scenes over time, builds suspense into an explosive climax. Increased character development allows for the viewers to better empathize with the characters as they come to their ends. Both films are very effective, and each leaves the viewer with a macabre, unsettling ending.

The Shining (1980)

(Note: Due to a scheduling conflict, we are unable to show Poltergeist this Saturday night. KFS apologizes in advance for any inconvenience)

Stanley Kubrick used Stephen King's The Shining as a source for his film of the same title, but Kubrick's adaptation of the book sought a more atmospheric horror than the gore of the novel. Kubrick infuses the finest elements of the horror and thriller genres into this haunted house tale. Even though the result didn't break box office records or win awards, it still stands as one of the finest horror films ever crafted for its consistently ominous tone.

Jack Torrance (Jack Nicholson) takes a job as the winter caretaker for a Colorado mountain resort. He brings his wife Wendy (Shelley Duvall) and their son Danny to stay with him and keep him sane, but soon things begin to go awry. Snowed in, Jack begins to snap and loses all focus on his work. Danny, who seems to have a gift with the paranormal, begins having foreboding visions about the resort. The ghosts begin to stir, and they slowly drive Jack insane.

Kubrick's eye for cinematography and shot selection are not lost on this film. Taking place high in the Rockies, Kubrick's sweeping views from the film's opening shots give great views of the mountains, and later he traps the audience within the resort's long narrow hallways. Dripping with tension and atmosphere, The Shining begins as a gripping ghost story but ends as a scintillating bloodbath, and still stands as one of the finest horror films ever made.

Jackie Brown (1997)

KFS opens "KFS Is Hatching a Scheme Week" with one of the finer directors of the crime drama, Quentin Tarantino, and his third film, Jackie Brown. While his previous two works (Reservoir Dogs and Pulp Fiction) centered their attention on the criminal element and lifestyle, Jackie Brown takes an alternative approach, looking more at the characters and their circumstances. The film works on several levels, both as a crime drama and as a character sketch of an aging Blaxploitation star, Pam Grier.

Jackie Brown (Grier) is down and out, and working as an airline stewardess. She finds herself arrested for drug possession upon return to the United States from Mexico, and needs help in being bailed out. She calls on her old friend Ordell (Samuel L. Jackson) who would have her repay the favor by working for him in his weapon-smuggling scheme. However, the ATF is on to Ordell, and they see Jackie as the perfect tool to get to him. In order to get herself away from both of these menacing forces, she must craftily work the two forces against each other. With the aid of her bail bondsman Max Cherry (Robert Forster), Jackie works out a plan to trick both sides of the equation.

One of the main delights of Jackie Brown is Tarantino's faith in his characters. The people in this movie aren't stupid and the director hasn't done any thinking for them. By the end of the film, the last man standing is the one who has outwitted everyone else. This film lacks the gratuitous violence that usually marks Tarantino's work, but what remains is a less flashy, more character-oriented film.

A Simple Plan (1998)

Before 1998, Sam Raimi was known as the director with a gruesomely dark sense of humor who had written and directed the Evil Dead trilogy. However, he left the world of cult cinema and cheesy horror for a script far more terrifying in A Simple Plan. Raimi takes the macabre elements of his previous films and places them in this tale with graceful subtlety. The terror creeps over both the characters in the film and the audience, but not because of mediocre gore or violence.

Hank Mitchell (Bill Paxton), his brother Jacob (Billy Bob Thornton), and his friend Lou (Brent Briscoe) come across a crashed plane in the middle of the forest. After investigating further, they discover four million dollars inside. Hank is eager to tell his wife Sarah (Bridget Fonda) about the find, but the three men decide to keep the finding a secret to everyone else. While Hank investigates the money to see if it has been reported missing, Lou begins to demand his share. Soon, the three men find that they will do or say anything to keep this treasure of theirs a secret.

A Simple Plan may find Raimi at his most disturbing. While the films in the Evil Dead trilogy used gore as a hilarious accentuation of the plot, there is little to no humor involved in the actions of his characters here. Raimi brilliantly portrays just how far some people will go to keep a secret, and his actors carry out their duties with a tone of chilling realism.

Confidence (2003)

Much like Wednesday's Jackie Brown, James Foley's Confidence finds its lead character stuck between a rock and a hard place. Having ripped off a very dangerous crime boss King (Dustin Hoffman), professional con artist Jake Vic (Edward Burns) finds himself at King's mercy. Jake begins his plans for recompense by assembling his crew for a risky upcoming heist. The crew (consisting of Donal Logue, Paul Giamatti, and Luis Guzman) are accompanied by a sultry vixen (Rachel Weisz) who serves as an identity thief. Soon the cops are hot on Jake's trail, led by the sleazy Gunther Butan (Andy Garcia). King sets the team loose on a wealthy banker (Robert Forster), but with his quick gestures and slippery tongue, no one can be really sure whom Jake is trying to con.

Confidence finds Foley back at the top of his game. Back in the film-noir genre, he directs his finest film since 1992's Glengarry Glen Ross. Cinematographer Juan Ruiz Anchia, who also worked on Glengarry Glen Ross, shows his craftsmanship and slick style in this fast-paced film. The original screenplay, penned by Doug Jung, manages to be both quick and direct while at the same time being elusive, allowing for misdirection at every turn. Each character has his wits about him, and this results in a few sleights of hand on each side. A masterful execution of a con game on film, Confidence finds itself to be a fine crime drama twisted around again and again.

Solaris (2002)

Steven Soderbergh (Traffic) rethinks, adapts, and largely shortens the epic Russian film of the same title to create his own version of Solaris. Based on the Stanislaw Lem novel, which is largely regarded as one of the benchmarks in science fiction writing, the original Solaris was created by the legendary Russian director Andrei Tarkovsky. Soderbergh's Solaris invites discussion and conversation about its very intricate plot and concepts of the human mind.

Chris Kelvin (George Clooney) is a troubled psychologist who is dealing with the recent suicide of his wife Rheya (Natascha McElhone). A colleague who was working in space has recently met a bitter end, and Kelvin is sent out into space to investigate. When he reaches the station, he finds two crewmen, the spastic Snow (Jeremy Davies) and the terrified Gordon (Viola Davis). After waking up one morning, Kelvin discovers what has driven this crew mad as he finds his wife lying next to him, as alive as the day they were married. Puzzled, shocked, and thrilled, Kelvin is left with a moral dilemma. He knows that this woman, this construct is not really his wife, but she seems so real that killing her off would seem inhuman.

Dripping with psychological overtones, the film leaves the viewers to come to their own conclusions. Is this return of Rheya a gift to Kelvin? Is Gordon perfectly justifiable in her paranoia? These entities that return are no more than a synthesis of memories collected from the beholder's subconscious while asleep, and the mystical nature of the nearby planet is not fully explainable. Soderbergh does well not to compromise Lem's original ideas, and this cleaner, leaner version of Tarkovsky's original work still has the allure and mystery to draw in viewers for the full two hours and beyond.

Narc (2002)

Narc is an alarmingly straightforward good cop/bad cop film that takes the daring steps forward that other films in this genre are afraid to take. Hidden in the guise of a B-movie, Narc gives off a gritty, tough-as-nails vibe as its two lead actors play their roles to perfection. Jason Patric stars as Nick Tellis, a retired cop who is stuck between his family and his chance to reclaim his job. Ray Liotta plays alongside him as Lieutentant Henry Oak, and his double-barreled shotgun serves as just one sign of how edgy this cop is.

Tellis opens at the end of his last bust, running down a drug dealer through an inner-city children's park. Eighteen months later, he is asked to investigate the death of another narcotics officer, but his promise to his wife and newborn son that he would never again take the streets hangs over his head. He is paired with the dead cop's former partner, the on-edge Oak, who will stop at nothing to find the killer of his former partner. The pair searches for clues, but witnesses start turning up dead and evidence becomes unreliable.

Narc succeeds, like L.A. Confidential before it, because it doesn't pull any of its punches. It features a very compelling cast, a frighteningly powerful "bad cop," and a powerful climax that leaves viewers stunned. Joe Carnahan clearly has a great amount of respect for this genre, as he pays tribute to the police dramas of the 70s, including The French Connection, Dog Day Afternoon, and Serpico. Carnahan's finest accomplishment, though, is to adapt the style of those films to the very grim and gruesome style of modern film.

The Rules of Attraction (2002)

As frighteningly true as Narc may ring, Roger Avary's The Rules of Attraction has a sense of reality that borders on surreal. Avary's adaptation of the Bret Easton Ellis novel of the same title maintains Ellis's brazen, shocking writing style. The view of college life presented here may seem overdone at times, but this is certainly a more accurate depiction than most comedies in a collegiate setting.

Sean Bateman (James Van Der Beek) is a wealthy, preppy drug dealer at Camden University, and he begins to grow fond of the sweet, innocent Lauren (Shannyn Sossamon) who is holding on to her virginity for her high school sweetheart Victor (Kip Pardue) who is abroad on a free ride to Europe while Lauren watches both her bisexual ex-boyfriend Paul (Ian Somerhalder) and her roommate Lara (Jessica Biel) pine away for Sean, who questions the identity of the writer of the love letters he is receiving.

The Rules of Attraction finds James Van Der Beek in a rather uncharacteristic role, as he plays the evil twin of his high school character on Dawson's Creek. Avary directs the rest of the cast to outstanding performances, brilliantly finding ways to set Ellis's sprawling text to film. Though the cocaine, the blood, and the general horror of the film and its content might jar some people, Avary's direction uses it tastefully and (at times) humorously, but never in an unrealistic or gratuitous fashion.