Director Claire Denis -- who was born in France but raised in colonial Africa -- enjoyed a measure of art-house buzz when she leapt onto the scene in 1989 with her film Chocolat (not to be confused with the awful 2000 Johnny Depp/Juliette Binoche movie of the same name). Siskel & Ebert praised it and Denis on their show at the time. In 2000, her film Beau Travail topped the Film Comment critics' poll of the best films of the year. But in-between, she couldn't catch a break. She has a tendency to make "mood pieces" rather than plot-driven films; these tend to cause people to think, thus making them very uncomfortable. Some of her movies couldn't get distribution and remain difficult to see. Others received only the tiniest distribution and even most critics didn't notice them. Such is the case with her wonderful new 35 Shots of Rum (2 screens), which is one of the year's best films.

Here's a quick look at what's opening in limited release this weekend. If they're not playing where you live, keep an eye out as they make the rounds. And if all else fails, there's always DVD....

Ong Bak 2: The Beginning (pictured) is something of a prequel to Ong Bak, the Thai sensation from a few years ago. Tony Jaa, whose multi-discipline fighting skills are beyond impressive, plays a guy who fights a lot. Cinematical's Todd Gilchrist sums up the way many of us felt when we first caught the film at South By Southwest: The fight scenes are spectacular; unfortunately, the plot that holds them together is incomprehensible and takes itself too seriously. At Rotten Tomatoes, the critics are almost evenly split between yea and nay, with the only question being whether the awesomeness of the fights is enough to compensate for the dullness of the rest of it. Playing on 10 screens in New York, L.A., San Francisco, Seattle, Boston, and Washington D.C.

Antichrist is an art-house horror film from Lars Von Trier, starring Willem Dafoe and Charlotte Gainsbourg as a grieving couple to whom some supernatural and terrible things happen. It's been appalling audiences since it premiered at Cannes this spring. The critics all seem to agree that it's repellent, grisly, unsettling, and hard to watch. Where they part company -- about evenly down the middle, so far -- is whether that's good or bad. Playing on one screen each in L.A., New York, Chicago, Boston, San Francisco, and Washington D.C. It will also be available through some Video On Demand systems starting Oct. 28.

Just take a look at that weekend box office. Sure, the critically panned Couples Retreat came in at #1, earning over $32 million on 3000 screens. But scan down the list and look at #4, which was Paranormal Activity. It earned $7.9 million on 160 screens. That's not a typo. One hundred and sixty screens. If we take the average, Paranormal Activity earned $49,375 per screen, and Couples Retreat took in a paltry $10,666 per screen. That's five times as many butts in the seats for the horror film than for the unfunny comedy (which means that there must have been a lot of empty seats at the latter). There's a simple reason for this: Paranormal Activity is a genuinely scary movie.

The same goes for any of the "body genres," i.e. comedies, steamy films, weepies, etc. If they genuinely work, and genuinely elicit the response that they promise, they will be a hit every time. Horror buffs -- myself included -- probably see more than a dozen new "scary" movies in the theater each year, but it's only once every few years that we actually get scared at one of them. Paranormal Activity achieves this by doing something very simple and not at all new: it doesn't show anything (or, rather, it shows very little). It knows that nothing that can be shown onscreen can equal the fears and nightmares of the people in the audience, and that the fear of the unknown is the greatest fear of all.

I just saw Gerald Peary's new documentary For the Love of Movies: The Story of American Film Criticism -- which incidentally features Cinematical's fearless managing editor Scott Weinberg as well as Cinematical alum Karina Longworth -- and I thoroughly enjoyed it, despite some lumps here and there. I'm having a hard time deciding whether or not non-critics will like it, but it celebrates many of my heroes (James Agee, Manny Farber, etc.) and even included one or two historical tidbits I did not know. One thing it talked about was the immense power wielded by Bosley Crowther at the New York Times from 1940 to 1967 -- he alone could make or break a movie -- until a new generation led by Andrew Sarris and Pauline Kael began to directly challenge him. Crowther was mainly interested in social responsibility in films, films that managed to "say a little something," rather than sheer artistic exercises or works of personality. The new documentary treats Crowther kindly, but dismisses him as a relic.

Here's a quick look at what's opening in limited release this weekend. If they're not playing where you live, keep an eye out as they make the rounds. And if all else fails, there's always DVD....

First, be aware that Paranormal Activity has expanded into 160 theaters nationwide, with screenings all day (not just at midnight). The Coen brothers' A Serious Man (which might stretch the definition of "indie," but still) is also expanding a bit, though still in only about a dozen major cities.

Good Hair (pictured) is a highly enjoyable documentary by Chris Rock examining African American women's obsession with hair. I saw it at Sundance and, speaking as a white dude, I had no idea it was this big a deal. The black members of the audience, meanwhile, were nodding and smiling knowingly. Cinematical's Scott Weinberg had much the same reaction I did when he reviewed it at Sundance, and all but two of the reviews at Rotten Tomatoes are positive, calling it funny, informative, and enlightening. Playing on about 180 screens in the greater L.A., New York, Chicago, Atlanta, and Washington D.C. areas.

An Education was a huge hit at Sundance this year, with raves all around for its star (Carey Mulligan) and its director (Lone Scherfig). It's a coming-of-age story about a girl in 1960s London, with a screenplay by Nick Hornby. Cinematical's James Rocchi adored it; so does almost everyone else who has reviewed it. (And one of the pans is from noted contrarian Armond White, who doesn't count anyway.) It's just in New York and L.A. right now, but don't worry: Sony will be pushing it for awards consideration, so you'll get a chance to see it.

If Hollywood's vast abundance of remakes, spin-offs and sequels weren't enough to kill your appetite for spending money on "new" entertainment, it seems like almost every one of these releases finds its way onto home video in multiple forms. Sometimes the studios issue different iterations of a film all at the same time, in a thankful moment of honesty that at least allows consumers the option which version they want. More often, though, the studios will re-release, expand and double-dip their top earners time and time again in order to wring out a few more dollars from the less dull entries in their back catalog. And especially now, during the still-early days of Blu-ray, there's even more new and different editions being released in stores, some of which are honest-to-Jah improvements on the presentation and packaging, while others are merely the next generation of mediocrity.

As such, welcome to the second installment of "Making The (Up) Grade," a comparison of some of the more high-profile (or maybe just personally-preferred) blu-ray releases with their previous home-video iterations. This week, we're taking a look at Snow White, which Walt Disney Studios Home Entertainment is releasing in a three-disc Diamond Edition.

This has been one amazing year for animated films. At least four of them are contenders for my list of the year's best films, and a few others are good enough to warrant a second viewing. But despite that, the majority of them are in 3D, and rated PG, neither of which appeals much to my 3-1/2 year old son who is beginning to ask to come to the movies with me. There's one exception, still in theaters, that stands apart from all the rest of the competition: Hayao Miyazaki's Ponyo (163 screens). Ponyo is hand-drawn (rather than computer-animated), not in 3D, and so far is the only G-rated movie of the year. (I'm not counting two others: Hannah Montana: The Movie, or Jonas Brothers: The 3D Concert Experience, about which the less said, the better.)

Yet Ponyo hasn't exactly been lighting its United States audience on fire. Or maybe it just feels like we have already forgotten about it, despite some good voice work by Cate Blanchett, Matt Damon, Tina Fey, Liam Neeson and others. It doesn't seem to be on the cinematic radar anymore, even though it did well in its home of Japan. Perhaps audiences were turned off by the fact that Disney-sanctioned Noah Cyrus and Frankie Jonas were cast to perform the two lead children, or that they recorded a truly insufferable song for the closing credits. Or perhaps the movie is too simple and too gentle. When Miyazaki's gorgeous, dark Spirited Away opened here in 2002, the time seemed right, and enthusiasm for his work ran high; the movie was ushered in as a major event in the history of animation.

Here's a quick look at what's opening in limited release this weekend. If they're not playing where you live, keep an eye out as they make the rounds. And if all else fails, there's always DVD....

More Than a Game (pictured) is a documentary about basketball phenom LeBron James and four of his Akron, Ohio, high school teammates. Reviews are about evenly split so far, though none are terribly negative. I get the feeling that fans of James and/or basketball will love it while those with a more casual interest might find it lacking. Playing in L.A., New York, and several theaters in the Akron area (nice touch!). The official website has a schedule of when it's opening in other cities.

Afterschool premiered at Cannes last year and has subsequently played at several other festivals, including South By Southwest. It's a drama about students at a New England prep school in the aftermath of a tragedy involving some of their classmates, and how they retreat into YouTube and the Internet to deal with their feelings. About three-fourths of the reviews so far are positive, with critics calling it a sobering, honest look at 21st-century youth. Playing in New York City now.

A Beautiful Life is about a runaway teenage girl and an illegal-immigrant teenage boy whose paths cross in Los Angeles. It's based on a play called Jersey City. Bad news, though: All six of the reviews posted so far are negative: melodramatic, heavy-handed, poorly acted, etc., etc. Playing in New York, L.A., Chicago, and San Francisco.

Recently, my uncle -- a film buff to put most other film buffs to shame -- sent me a clipping from the Seattle Times, in which critic John Hartl celebrated the greatest movie year of all time. Not 1939, as is generally accepted, but 1959. And I have to agree with him. It was an amazing time when the old Hollywood guard was winding down and creating their final masterpieces, new upstarts were coming in with fresh new films and the most outrageously artistic of European cinema was getting released (and being watched) in America. Not taking into account any weird release patterns -- such as the fact that Ingmar Bergman's Wild Strawberries (1957) was released here in 1959 -- and based on the IMDB's list of 1959 movies, here's my top ten list for that great year.

1. Rio Bravo. On most days, this is my favorite Western, with its combination of breathless suspense sequences and easy camaraderie among its bizarre, almost deliberately mismatched cast (and especially for Dean Martin and Ricky Nelson's duet). Howard Hawks directs with fluid grace, but best of all is that exchange of dialogue between Ward Bond and John Wayne. Bond: "A game-legged old man and a drunk. That's all you got?" Wayne: "That's what I got."

2. Good Morning. This is Yasujiro Ozu's lightest, warmest and funniest film, about two boys who -- fed up with the polite, meaningless conversation of adults -- take a vow of silence until their father buys them a television set. Their father refuses, having heard that television will produce "100 million idiots." (He may have been right.) Even if you don't like this one, Ozu also delivered the equally great Floating Weeds the same year.

Here's a quick look at what's opening in limited release this weekend. If they're not playing where you live, keep an eye out as they make the rounds. And if all else fails, there's always DVD....

Paranormal Activity (pictured) is finally coming to theaters after premiering two years ago at Screamfest. It's a simple horror concept: married couple believes their house is haunted; sets up camera to film the things that go bump in the night; pants-wetting ensues. Cinematical's Kim Voynar was terrified by it when she caught it at Slamdance 2008, and our Eugene Novikov was similarly enthralled at Telluride this year. At Rotten Tomatoes, all but one of the reviews are similarly positive. Hooray for low-budget indie thrillers! Now playing in Seattle, Boulder, Tucson, Baton Rouge, Columbus, Orlando, Ann Arbor, Madison, Wis., and Santa Cruz, Calif.

The Boys Are Back stars Clive Owen as a newly widowed father of two boys. It's directed by Scott Hicks, who made Shine and Hearts in Atlantis. Cinematical's Monika Bartyzel had praise for the film when it premiered at Toronto, saying it's occasionally great and often very sweet. At Rotten Tomatoes, 64% of the reviews are positive -- not a smash, but very solid. Playing in New York and L.A.

I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell is based on douchebag-and-proud-of-it Tucker Max's memoirs detailing his escapades as a carousing womanizer and general tool. Matt Czuchry plays Max in the film, which takes the form of a road-trip buddy comedy. Now playing in about 120 theaters nationwide. Only 22% of the reviews so far are positive, with most critics calling it juvenile, derivative, and unfunny.

When the average American film fan thinks of Japanese movies, they'll probably picture one of three things: either a samurai or a gangster -- Toshiro Mifune and his sword, or Takeshi Kitano and his gun -- or a stringy-haired ghost girl. Die-hard fans will know that Yasujiro Ozu, Nagisa Oshima and Mikio Naruse also made contemporary dramas about modern-day citizens, often trying to figure out their lives in the post-WWII turmoil. But those dramas were hindered by the times, or by the censors; the characters were polite and functional and hid their own true emotions in an attempt to do what they were supposed to be doing. But there's something in the air over in Japan right now; they're making melodramas, big, roiling, red-blooded ones filled with anguish and torment and heartbreak.

Earlier this year, Kiyoshi Kurosawa -- who is thus far best known for his truly terrifying films like Cure (1997) and Pulse (2001) -- came out with Tokyo Sonata, a devastating (but defiantly odd) look at a crumbling family. The father loses his job, the eldest son contemplates joining the U.S. military and the youngest son sneaks off for secret piano lessons, while the mother finds herself kidnapped by a charismatic burglar. Kurosawa somehow ties together these plot threads with a few scenes at the family home, in which little of the stuff that we can see happening actually gets discussed. It's a brilliant portrait of disconnect and lack of communication.

One of my absolute least favorite genres is the "disease of the week" movie. There are lots of genres I prefer less than others, but in the case of this one, I can't understand why people like it. Why would anyone want to go see a movie about people getting sick and probably dying? The nearest I can figure is that, for viewers who like to cry, this is an almost certain tearjerker. Otherwise, perhaps it makes viewers feel good about not being sick. Who knows? But this week, fate has handed me an almost perfect example of what I hate about this genre, as well as an alternate example of just how it can work.

My Sister's Keeper (262 screens) is the bad one, though it does begin with a good idea. Anna Fitzgerald (Abigail Breslin) was created in a test tube essentially to provide "spare parts" for her older sister, Kate (Sofia Vassilieva), who is stricken with leukemia. When Anna reaches the age of ten, she approaches a lawyer (Alec Baldwin) to sue for the rights to her own body. But rather than following that lead, the movie then spends the bulk of its running time in the hospital with Kate, watching her get sick and throw up while others weep and study test results. She gets a little brief romance, but it ends tragically. The worst thing of all is that, despite all this focus on Kate, she never emerges as a character. She's always good-natured, strong and loving. (We see her dark side only once, in a flashback.) Essentially, she is defined by her disease. She is "cancer girl" and nothing more.

The term "fangirl" should be innocuous -- a simple description of a girl who is a big fan of something or someone. A person of the female persuasion who loves something beyond basic appreciation, who wears her love and adoration on her sleeve. But over the years it's been awarded with a pesky stigma, a dark cloud that elicits shudders of distaste.

This came about long before Twilight -- back to the earlier days of media when Beatlemania was going strong, when Michael Jackson moonwalked himself into the hearts of crying, shrieking young'ens everywhere. (And let us remember that these included boys as well.) I'll never forget watching a television special on fangirls in my own youth, and wondered why they were shaking, crying, and screaming as if tortured by the sight of McCartney or Lennon hitting the stage in the '60s, or the mere glimpse of Jackson's sparkling glove in the '80s. Some overwhelmed tears might be expected, but not a full-scale mental and emotional meltdown. Not hormones on fire.

Today, it's all about vampires and a certain high school girl ready to give up everything for a young man that sparkles. Tomorrow it will probably be something else. But before another tide hits, we've got to look at this thing called "fangirl."

In the late summer of 1993, all serious movie geeks had their eyes on two movies. The first one was Hard Target, which marked the American debut of the great Hong Kong action director John Woo (whose great Hard-Boiled had recently been in theaters), and the second was True Romance, which was the second screenplay by Quentin Tarantino, whose Reservoir Dogs had been out the year before. I enjoyed both of the new movies just fine, but I kept thinking: what if these two productions had simply switched directors? Tony Scott could have directed the latest Jean-Claude Van Damme snoozer (and hence I wouldn't have bothered to pay money to see it) and then John Woo could have taken over the Tarantino screenplay! How cool would that have been? True Romance would have been the greatest movie, ever!

Something vaguely similar happened this summer, but to a much lesser degree. I'm talking J.J. Abrams directing Star Trek (218 screens), and McG directing Terminator Salvation (81 screens). What if they had switched places? Neither one of them is any great shakes as a director, but I'd put my money on McG as the more interesting of the two. OK. Hear me out. Star Trek had a terrific script, with a really unique idea; it's perhaps the smartest series reboot I've yet seen, but Abrams' clunky direction drove the action to a dead halt at least half a dozen times. On the other hand, the screenplay for Terminator Salvation was pretty much unsalvageable, but McG put together some truly dazzling set pieces, using clean, fast gliding cameras to catch the movement and space of the action scenes.

I'm still not exactly sure how to describe the films of Andrew Bujalski. I've seen all three of his features, Funny Ha Ha (2002), Mutual Appreciation (2005) and the new Beeswax, which is currently playing on 2 screens in New York and Los Angeles and will expand to more theaters in the coming weeks. Funny Ha Ha really struck me when I saw it in 2004, but I think his films have improved since then, and Beeswax is really something wonderful. Of course, the word most people use to describe his films -- and other similar films in the same "wave" -- is "Mumblecore," and I suppose that's effective, but there's more to it.

Bujalski tends to focus on young people in their twenties and thirties. They're educated and middle-class, but probably not the most driven folks in the world. One character in Beeswax, Merrill (Alex Karpovsky), prepares to take the BAR, but when he doesn't do so well his first day, he shrugs: "it will still be there for me in six months. And then six months after that." The movie focuses on identical twins, Jeannie, who runs a vintage clothing shop, and Lauren, who is currently unemployed but thinking of taking a job in Nairobi. They're played by real-life twins Tilly Hatcher and Maggie Hatcher (whom Bujalski has known for years); Tilly needs a wheelchair to get around, but the movie refuses to make a big deal out of this. It's just there.