Away From Her

Adapted from the short story "The Bear Came Over the Mountain" by Alice Munro, "Away from Her" tells the story of Grant and Fiona, married 40 years, as they deal with Fiona's worsening Alzheimer's. Here's a great example of how much more powerful well-adapted literature can be than something created solely for the screen. Put it on the shelf alongside "Brokeback Mountain," "25th Hour" or the most recent "Pride and Prejudice." Like improvised TV ("Curb Your Enthusiasm") vs. scripted, I'm not saying it's the only way to go, just making a point. It only makes sense that an adapted screenplay enjoys the benefit of all the background the source provides, and is richer by default than material that was developed after jotting down a few character outlines, a list of 25 plot points and a sexy log line: "In a world...!"

I also appreciated what I personally refer to, right or wrong, as a more European view of love. That is, we're not property, and sometimes to love is to let go.

A sad, snowy movie directed by Sarah Polley, who starred in one of my favorite sad, snowy movies, The Sweet Hereafter.

I Like Killing Flies

The title of this documentary is lifted from the punchline of one of the cracked monologues philosopher-king and Greenwich Village hash slinger Kenny Shopsin delivers to camera. Loosely organized around the drama of moving his diner out of it's decades-old home, the movie introduces us to the eccentric Shopsin family and restaurant regulars, the odd, firmly specific rules of the restaurant, like no seating for parties of five, and, briefly, to the more than 900 menu items Shopsin pushes out of his phone booth-sized kitchen. My favorite is "Postmodern Pancakes:" Shopsin makes an order of pancakes, chops them up and throws them back in the batter, and then makes a new stack of pancakes, pieces and all.

This movie will be a comforting trifle for New Yorkers, whether native or transplanted, who've moved away and want to spend some time with a walking talking "New Yorker" profile.

Black Book

Wow! I loved this movie. And not just for the nekkid-udity. In the same way David Cronenberg's recent less-is-more approach has made his movies stronger, ("A History of Violence," "Eastern Promises"), Paul Verhoeven manages to make a sprawling story intimate, and the whole thing seems so effortless. Bad guys turn out good, and good guys turn out, well, they turn out too. You don't see the twists and turns coming, you're so engrossed you forget that the thing's called "Black Book" and you're treated to a new WWII angle: high adventures of the mighty Dutch Resistance! Go on and make it a double feature with Verhoeven's 1977 "Soldier of Orange," starring Rutger Hauer.

14...oh, wait.

If I had a readership, I would apologize for my absence. As it is, I'll just resume whispering into the abyss. Now where was I? Yes. Following ho-hum reviews when it ran in theaters, "1408" enjoyed a wave of critical reconsideration when it arrived on DVD that persuaded me against my better judgement to give it a chance. But let's just acknowledge the 800 lb. gorilla. You can't make a movie, let alone a Stephen King movie, about a haunted hotel without coming up short against "The Shining." There's no unifying logic here that explains what force is at work other than, as Sam Jackson's hotelier exclaims, "...it's an evil fucking room." But more like an evil fucking prop comic, the room throws gag after tired gag at Cusack, hoping something will resonate and send him bounding out the window. But the frights aren't scary, with the single exception of a "gotcha!" at the end, which inexplicably takes place after the action has moved beyond the hotel. And there's a confusing detour late in the movie that climaxes with a wide-eyed, mugging Cusack shot in 360 degree rotation that reminded me of the goofy old Wayne's World segue, "noonil, noonil, noonil, noonil." But I can only blame myself. If I'd done my homework, I would have noticed that "1408" was directed by the same guy who brought us this disappointment.