NYC movie report

By any standard I had a great Thanksgiving holiday, hanging out with my family in the big city, and I hope everyone else did too. This space, however, is about movies, and by that one, I'd say it breaks down thusly: 2 great, 1 good and 1 pretty darn awful. Which in my book is a pretty good stretch.

Here are reviews of the first two, and a brief word about the latter ones:

The Last King of Scotland

Because all of the (very well-deserved) hype going into this one was about Forest Whitaker's performance as Idi Amin, I wasn't prepared for just how good the rest of the movie is too. Count it as a very pleasant surprise.

Whitaker is electric, but what really drives this flick is the way in which we view his descent into dangerous madness through the eyes of a young Scottish doctor played by James McAvoy. The real drama hinges on whether, after being annointed as Amin's personal physician, he is simply oblivious to the genicide going on around him or worse, tacitly part of its execution.

Viewing - or often ignoring - the bloody reign of Amin through the eyes of McAvoy's Dr. Garrigan, who as often as working just wants to have fun, can be very uncomfortable viewing. And when director Kevin McDonald finally unleashes what should have been obvious to the young doc all along, it's a gut punch that will linger with you for a long time.

But this is really Mr. Whitaker's show, and he lives up to all the hype. His Amin is largely a big kid, and it's easy to see how his enthusiasm was contagious. I think they may have darkened his skin for the role, but this is about much more than the look. From the outset you can see the madness in his eyes, and he lets it out with a deceptively slow but sinister delivery. Believe it: You will be hearing a speech from Mr. Whitaker at the Oscars.

After watching this compelling flick, I thought of two (albeit very different) movies that pale in comparison. The climax of "Last King," in its sheer horror, made me think of "Hostel," and how much more scary Mr. Whitaker's Amin was than anything that comes from the minds of the gorehounds that pose as today's horror directors.

And, though I concede this may be unfair to Sofia Coppola, I couldn't help but think of the failings of "Marie Antionette" as well. Director McDonald, who also made the great documentary "One Day in September," put great care into constructing the Uganda of the early 70s, just as Sofia did in projecting her own vision onto 18th century France. But whereas Sofia sidestepped the famous quote that hovers over the ghost of Marie Antionette, this superior flick embraces the one that inspired its title, and shows us in bright colors just how Amin reached the point where he would declare himself "The Last King of Scotland."

I have no idea if Africa, or anything for that matter, is "in" right now, but I do know I highly recommend this movie.

"Volver"

Going into the weekend, this one was on the top of my must-see list, and it didn't disappoint.

What director Pedro Almodovar has created is, to put it simply, a world without men, and the mystery about how his leading ladies landed in this situation.

At the outset, however, something just felt out of sync with this one. We begin with Raimunda (a radiant Penelope Cruz) and her young daughter Paula (Yohana Cobo), living with a man (Antonio de la Torre) who has inappropriate eyes and hands for young Paula. Almodovar shows how they handle this situation as he often does, with humor, but it just doesn't gel with what we're seeing on screen.

The movie hits its groove, however, with the return of Raimunda's mother Irene (the truly great Carmen Maura), who had disappeared in a fire. Maura is, from her arrival, everywoman. Much like Bruno Ganz in "Wings of Desire," she just eats up the screen everytime she peeks out from underneath a bed or from around a corner.

And her presence gives the movie a needed emotional core, taking Cruz's Raimunda from cartoon anguish back to the magicly real world around her and letting her really shine. Her Raimunda is tough but very vulnerable, and she works the full range of emotions with skill and style. And no Almodovar ensemble movie would be complete without more colorful women, led by Lola Dueñas, who as Raimunda's sister Sole delivers welcome comic relief as she hides Maura's Irene in her house as "la Russe," a Russian refugee who helps out in her makeshift hair salon.

But as with any great mystery, "Volver" really excels in its reveal. As Maura and Cruz finally come face-to-face and lay down all their burdens, it's clear just how much Almodovar loves these two women, and he makes us love them too.

This Filthy World

I would have skipped this flick, essentially a tape of John Waters doing his standup schtick, if the director himself weren't in attendance. He gave a brief introduction at Cinema Village, and then answered questions for about 15 minutes afterward.

The movie itself, which is already out on DVD, I believe, is much like Waters himself: Funny, often thoroughly disgusting, but charming nonetheless. It's at its best when he's talking about the early days running around Charm City with the late Divine, just filming whatever they thought would be the most shocking. But in the last 20 minutes, it just devolves into an annotated filmography, with Waters just listing his flicks wtih a running commentary.

Still, if you like John Waters, and I often do, this is well worth a rental.

The History Boys

Maybe I just didn't get this one. The play about a group of eight English lads in their final term of prep for admission into one of the country's big two - Oxford or Cambridge - won like a gazillion Tonys on Broadway.

On screen, however, its just eight competely vacuous twits who revel in their rather sheltered existence as they discuss the vagaries of literature and history. If this sounds painful, it often is. The movie just failed, for me, to deliver any connection to any of these brats, and therefore no reason to care if they succeeded or not.

The best moment, which we admittedly had to run out on to make our dinner reservations, came when Rufus Wainwright crooned "Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered" over the closing credits. Though I was occasionally bewitched by "The History Boys," it definitely more often left me scratching my head in bewilderment. If there was something I missed, please feel free to let me know.

And there you have it. A weekend of movies, two great, one good and one pretty darn awful. And now, if you'll excuse me, my punishment for this respite from reality is a long day of catchup at work.