off, I apologize for the delay. The holiday week and a few other unforeseen complications
got in the way of our prognostication this month. But we’re not about to let it
go, since July is bursting with films, especially if you live in an
area fed by a decent indie cinema.
the big obvious stuff: Transformers, Harry Potter, Sunshine,
and if you’re optimistic, The Simpsons Movie. I’m not
optimistic. I can’t wait to see how Transformers stacks up in its second
week, though, and with middling notices so far I’m wondering if the Potter
fanbase, energized by the imminent seventh novel, will lift film number five up
to previous box office numbers.
that, July is the dumping ground for a whole load of festival picks. This year’s
Sundance is repped by Introducing The Dwights (formerly Clubland)
while Toronto 2006 has a massive set of delegates: Time,
Sugar Curtain, Drama/Mex, My Best Friend and Cashback. I liked Time quite
a bit – it’s creepy and, if overlong, also quietly effective and unsettling –
Lane is a solid little slasher flick. And after paying four million for
it last year the Weinsteins have no idea how to deal with it; there’s a July 20th
opening and not even a poster yet? Shameful, since the movie is an easy sell to
horror fans. When Skinwalkers is getting a bigger push than a genuinely decent
ass-backward. But that’s
WEEK OF JULY 6
As if you need a synopsis. Michael Bay, Energon cubes, Vehicular mayhem spliced
with childhood robot nostalgia and the lovingly shot abdomen of Megan Fox, all
wrapped up in a package primed to blow your face off in the most beautiful and
stylistic way possible.
Prognostication: Trans-what? As if. You know
about this movie , your grandmother knows about this movie and your goldfish
has tickets to see this movie. Transformers is unquestionably the most highly
anticipated movie of the summer… right behind Hairspray. It’ll be a bitter
fight, but with the combined might of Adam Shankman’s John Waters homage and John Travolta in a
feminine fatsuit, I’m giving Hairspray the edge this hot season. Better luck
next time, Optimus.
License to Wed
Russ Says: When the trailer makes Meet
the Fokkers look good, you’ve already failed. Mandy Moore and John
Krasinski just want to get married, but first they’ve got to pass
run by Robin Williams, who keeps Josh Flitter around as altar boy / sidekick /
sentient tumor. The wacky hijinks that ensue make this the least appealing film
of the summer.
Prognostication: While watching Nancy
Drew, the presence of Josh Flitter made me pray for spontaneous
flesh-eating bacteria to consume my brain stem and end the misery, so there’s
no way I’m going within 50 yards of this trainwreck. I’d like to see Grace
Zabriske in her few scenes, but I’ll live without them. More than likely every
other possible audience will as well; even Bay haters will go see Transformers
before this abortion.
Introducing the Dwights
Russ Says: Tim (Khan Chittenden) is is
20-year old son of a comedienne (Brenda Blethyn) and the very inexperienced new
boyfriend of hottie Jill (Emma Booth). Dwights follows his sexual awakening via
Jill, balanced against his home life with mum, whose career is on the brink of
a re-emergence. Khaaaaannn!
Prognostication: Called Clubland
in its native
Sundance, Dwights earned some solid notices, though winning audiences over at
the increasingly fickle Sundance fest isn’t exactly a guarantee of quality.
Emma Booth, playing the girlfriend of young Tim, is the reason to see this one.
She’s already in Schumacher’s occult/Nazi flick Town Creek and will show
up in the period flick Hippie Hippie Shake with Cillian
Murphy and Sienna Miller, both due next year. See Dwights now and you’ll be
able to perv on Booth before everyone else.
Russ Says: In late 19th century
rice paddy Robin Hood, returning water buffalo stolen by raiders back to the
farmers who rely upon them for labor and sustenance. There’s also a rich guy
who wants to replace the buffalo with tractors, a tattooed cattle trader with
mystic martial skills, the Black Wizard he cursed, and some plot device that
requires the monthly flow from a virgin. No shit.
Prognostication: Ong Bak fueled a Muay
Thai cottage industry in
every Thai-socky flick could be sold for a mint overseas. This has quickly
proven to be false, of course, with even legit Ong Bak follow-ups like Tom
Yum Goong attracting less attention than Tony Jaa’s massive hit. With a
murkier plot and lousier acting than most, Dynamite Warrior’s only attraction
is the explosives-enhanced fight scenes, but as those are laced with CGI and
choreographed with merely average grace, this is third-tier entertainment at
Micah says: It’s been a hot minute since
we’ve seen Sam Rockwell in…well, anything. But he comes out of relative
hiding here playing one of the nice movie dads who has No. Idea. Who. He. Is.
Fucking. With. In this case, it’s his own spawn, the eponymous tyke who doesn’t
much care for the little baby sister his mom (Vera Farmiga, in truly
horrendous-looking mom hair) just spat out. Daddy has to deal with his
increasingly malevolent child (and kudos if they didn’t cast Cameron Bright
here on purpose…lesser kudos if he was out of their price range or unavailable.
The point is…no Cameron Bright!), a frayed marriage, and a jerk boss (Michael
McKean). How will he cope?
Prognostication: Fox Searchlight is putting
virtually no work into the release of this flick, and given the weekend they
chose to release it (“More than meets the
eeeeeeeyyyyyyyyye….”), you can’t blame them. Even as counter-programming to
Bay’s super-mega theme park ride, this downer doesn’t stand much of a chance
without some sort of pedigree or brand name to set it apart in the minds of
moviegoers. Plus…let’s face it: It hasn’t been long enough since the
Tony-Goldwyn-as-Christ flick of the same name “graced” our theaters. I’m going
to go out on a limb and make the wild guess that…you can catch this on a video
store shelf in about 4 weeks or so.
WEEK OF JULY 13
Says: Dual stories intertwine and unfold over the course of one day in
Fernanda, whose old boyfriend reappears, causing no end of tasty sexual tension
and instigating jealousy from her current beau. The balancing tale concerns
Jamie, an older office worker with more than one reason to try and off himself,
which is what he’s in the process of doing when interrupted by a dodgy teenage
girl with her own shady characteristics. Christ, this sounds so movie, and it probably is.
Prognostication: The proper strategy here is to
play off the resurgence of Mexican filmmakers on the world stage, but so far
IFC hasn’t been able to nail that trick. The original Mexican trailer is fairly
rock and roll, but also nearly incomprehensible, language barrier aside, and
the fact that IFC still doesn’t have a US campaign implies a lack of confidence
and quick disappearance.
Harry Potter and the Order of the
Says: This will be the first Potter film based on a book I haven’t read yet – I
stopped at Goblet of Fire – so I’m really interested to see how the reportedly
more fan-centric script plays out. Harry has to face public dismissal of his
and Dumbledore’s claims that Voldemort has returned, so while he joins the
Order of the
style, Ministry of Magic head Cornelius Fudge installs a new Defense Against
The Dark Arts teacher to keep an eye on Harry’s actions at Hogwarts. And
Dolores Umbrage makes Margaret Thatcher look servile…
Prognostication: Millions of rabid fans won’t
be dissuaded by reviews or anything shy of word of mouth that’s pure poison.
And that ain’t going to happen. In a summer that’s been light on satisfying
sequels, even a middling Potter film will rake it in, so early complaints about
a chopped-up narrative and sudden character introductions will bounce right off
Harry’s fifth big box office take. Above it all, I don’t really care how the
whole thing plays out, as long as I get to see a lot more of Ralph Fiennes’
fantastic take on Voldemort.
Says: This movie has been haunting
my browser for the last week or so, which I guess is some kind of karmic
payback for hating on it sight unseen.
Directed by Roland Joffe, whose precipitous decline from Palm d’Or
winner to torture porn rip-off artist is worthy of a movie itself, Captivity is
essentially an excuse for this generation of gorehounds to revel in the
degradation of Elisha Cuthbert. And,
really, what’s the harm in that? That’s
what the chick gets for paling around with Paris Hilton, that unrepentant skank
who, after months of legal ducking-and-weaving, finally got hauled off to jail
for blowing the cover of a covert CIA agent.
Now that the War in
finally over, cancer has been cured and The Hollies are touring again with
their original lineup, it’s time to watch some unattainable piece of ass get
subjected to copious physical and emotional abuse!
After getting savaged at the
2006 Sitges Film Festival, Joffe agreed to reshoots intended to punch up the
film’s torture porn elements. Though the
result has been hidden from critics, Liosngate/After Dark has a bigger problem
on their hands: the resounding popular
rejection of Hostel: Part II. Should
Captivity similarly crap out with audiences (and studio tracking seems to
suggest it will do just that), this could be the end of the subgenre. Oh, damn.
Micah says: A high-fallutin’ journalist
(Steve Buscemi) somehow gets sacked with the assignment of interviewing a vapid
pop tart (Sienna Miller). But their initially dismal interview takes a turn for
the intriguing when she inadvertently causes him to get into a minor accident
and takes him back to her place. Now, a Skinemax aficionado like myself knows
there’s only one logical place it should go from there, but given that your
leading man is Steve Buscemi, you have to be more creative than that. Thus, we
essentially get a two-person stage play boiling over with sexual tension and
gender politics. Buscemi’s at the helm, too (I’m thinking he has a “private”
director’s cut for his eyes only?).
Prognostication: Sony’s given this an
appropriately tiny release to allow it to blossom, and the trailer looks mighty
good. This sort of intimate drama (the only other person in the trailer is
muMs…no, not the “This Is Why I’m Hot” dude..) is rarely made anymore, and I
think Buscemi’s just the person to pull it off. Would I find my version of Interview
featuring myself, Nigella Lawson, and a bottle of….whoa! Got carried away
there. What I mean to say is: This is the sort of indie that can sit well in a
quietly platforming release, and I fully expect it to do so.
The slow to release non-documentary written and directed by Werner Herzog based
on a 1997 documentary (Little Dieter Needs to Fly) also by Werner Herzog. After
aspiring to pilot-status, Dieter Dengler is shot down over
to stick it out while successfully planning escape from a brutal North
Vietnamese POW camp. Too bad Dieter didn’t save some pain and anguish by
crashing a little closer to the exploits of a bearded Chuck Norris or bandana-d
Prognostication: Rescue Dawn looks
great. Whether that’s because I think Christian Bale is tops, Werner can make a
movie or because it feels like a while since the last Vietnam era "war film", I’m anticipating this production finally seeing the
light of day. The film is more intimate and jungle survival focused than the
trailer implies and hosts some great performances from Bale and costar Steve
Zahn (surprise!). The Bale/Herzog combo is a nice one-two punch on paper, but
as much as I yearn for wider-released success, the start-stop Film Festival
showings and limited July 4 release in LA and NY may not grow this film into anything
more than a quick stop at local art house cinemas and a quickly shuffled to DVD
release when it opens wide on the 13th. Couple that with MGMs previous pullback
from a December-planned release and I don’t think there’s much studio hope for
Dawn either, despite having unanimously won some very good reviews.
My Best Friend
Russ Says: High concept ahead: a ruthless businessman
is challenged by his partner to produce a friend – one best friend,
specifically – within ten days. Despite his claims, the guy actually has no
friends, and so sets out to reconnect with people from his past. That having
failed, he bargains with a genial cabdriver to become his friend for the
purpose of the bet, and in the process they both learn some important and
magical lessons. No unicorns were harmed in the making of this film, but all
the rainbows and fairies are CGI.
delectable comedy of culture! Or not. But after Cache, I’m down with Daniel Auteil in a big way, and this could
really play to his slightly aloof strengths. The cold, dead heart inside me
might even warm up and beat once or twice if the film really works. In other
words, look for this on a future Guilty Pleasures list.
Shortcut to Happiness
Russ Says: Back in 2001 a massively bizarre
cast was assembled for this new take on The Devil And Daniel Webster: Alec
Baldwin headlines as the writer willing to sell his soul for success. Anthony
Hopkins as Webster and Jennifer Love Hewitt as the devil are enough to get my
Bugs Bunny double-take. Add bits from Kim Cattrall (that Sex and the City bargaining got her great roles, oh yes!), Dan Aykroyd
and Jason Patric and I don’t have the slightest idea how to characterize this Breakfast
of Champions-style oddity.
Prognostication: AKA Long Road To Movie Theatres.
I think Jeremy mentioned this in an article recently – it’s Alec Baldwin’s
benchwarmer that’s been sitting around for years. Even big
anything like vague confidence in this flick. Just watch the trailer, which is
amateurish and desperate in its attempt to capture even a chuckle from the
audience. Expect two hours of pure misery and wasted opportunity, though as a
huge Jason Patric fan I still don’t think I can resist, since the guy’s been
MIA post-Alamo. Assuming he’s still in the film, that is.
Talk to Me
Russ Says: Don Cheadle toplines as Ralph
Waldo ‘Petey’ Greene Jr, an ex-con who became a talk-radio sensation and rally
point for the civil rights movement. Chiwetel Ejiofor supports as program
director Dewey Hughes, who took the heat for Petey’s firebrand activism and
tendency to openly flaunt defiance for standards and practices. Expect lots of
shouting between glass studio partitions, stock scenes of a personality’s rise
and fall and a little deep soul searching, all set to a hot mid-‘60s soul soundtrack.
Prognostication: Eve’s Bayou director Kasi
Lemmons doesn’t arouse a lot of interest, but the opportunity to see Cheadle
fire up a rowdy performance is too good to pass up, even if he’s at the center
of what amounts to a political feel-good movie. But as feel-good flicks go,
I’ll take this musically charged flick over something like Reign Over Me without
Says: Divisive Korean filmmaker
Kim Ki-duk failed to rouse much interest in his latest film at last year’s Toronto
Film Festival, but, even if he had, this title would still be receiving a
barely there limited release. Time has
some fervent supporters (Esquire critic Mike D’Angelo currently has it listed
as the second best film of 2007), and its premise centered around two lovers
repeatedly disfiguring themselves through elective plastic surgery as some
bizarre test of true love has mad potential.
Ki-duk’s been striking out in a big way since Spring, Summer, Fall,
Winter… and Spring, but at least his misses have been failures of
ambition. He’s still one of the most
interesting filmmakers around.
Unless you live in
the Tartan DVD later this year. Is there
anything wrong with that? Well, yeah. It’s a fucking a film. It’s meant to be seen in a theater with
complete strangers so as to enhance the level of discomfort and
introspection. What’s the fun in having
an epiphanic experience in the comfort of your own home with your wife, your
friends, your kids, your pets or no one at all?
Yeah, I’m in a mood.
WEEK OF JULY 20
Russ Says: After an ugly breakup, Ben
discovers (a) that he has insomnia and, after taking an overnight job at a
supermarket, (b) that he can stop time, or at least vividly fantastize about
doing so. A romance blooms with his co-worker, whom he imagines nude in the
supermarket during his Time Lord fantasies. There are some romantic
complications, flashbacks to Ben’s introduction to the female body, and a
sweet, if unlikely resolution. Indie-riffic!
Prognostication: Sean Ellis expanded his own Oscar-nominated
short film into this feature, which is one of the glut of Toronto 2006 alumni
to hit a few
you need to know: cute, endearing, generally plotless but likeable enough. If Everything’s
Gone Green couldn’t attract much of an audience with similar notes and Douglas
Coupland’s name attached, what hope has Cashback?
Says: It’s a sure sign of quality
when a film by Milos Forman gets bounced out of the 2006 awards season and
buried in the middle of July. This is
Forman’s first picture since 1999’s Man on the Moon (which was easily the most
uninspired work of his career), and many were hoping that the long layoff would
inspire a return-to-form for the director of One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest,
Amadeus and Ragtime. If Goya’s Ghosts
were anywhere near the level of those classics, you best believe this movie
would’ve either opened by now or been held for a Venice/Toronto/Telluride slot. Though I’d love to see this lack of
confidence turn out to be unfounded, I must confess that the idea of Goya v.
the Spanish Inquisition never really quickened my pulse.
Prognostication: How do you sell an off-season Milos Forman
movie? Well, you play up the presence of
Natalie Portman, who’s been MIA since March 2006’s V for Vendetta. Had she done her first nude scene in the film
as was rumored a year ago (and since debunked), this could’ve been released
wide and propelled to $20 million domestic thanks to repeat business from
sexually frustrated Star Wars geeks.
Absent that, expect to be renting this from Netflix in a couple of
Over the last 20 years, Hairspray has enjoyed both a glossy sheen and firm hold
since its inception as a well-reviewed, cult hit movie turned successful Broadway
musical turned feature film based on the feature film of 1988. Which is funny,
considering most folks don’t realize the charmer was written and directed by
the arch-nemesis of taste and decency- John Waters. (Russ adds: Actually, the arch-nemsis of decency is this version’s director, Adam Shankman.) But hey- people don’t care
about that kind of triviality unless you’re a politician or some other
inconsequential position– what matters is the fact they’ll get to see John
Travolta dolled up in drag and a fat suit while chubby Nikki Blonsky shows 1962
Baltimore that fat is phat when she wins a spot on a TV dance show. Hairspray
2007 gets a little more star power than its 1988 cousin, including the return
of Missing in Action Michelle Pfeiffer, the ever kooky Christopher Walken, teen
idol Amanda Bynes, James Cromwell and Queen Latifah.
Prognostication: Everyone’s going
gaga over John Travolta’s fatsuit turn as Tracy Turnblad’s Mom (first played by
non-fatsuited John Waters fave Divine)… and that’s where I wonder how
effective this movie will be in attracting audiences once the gag is exhausted
despite the popularity of the Broadway musical. After all, with a few
exceptions (Chicago, Dreamgirls) the transition of Broadway musical to
for popularity crossover (the same goes for remakes as of late, for that matter).
Just ask Joel Schumacher. And, in case you were worried, it’s not going to beat
I Now Pronounce You Chuck & Larry
Sandler + James = Fakin’ Homo! The originally R-rated comedy pits Sandler and
James as manly fireman turned blissfully domesticated partners attempting to
pull one over on
as important as the hilarity you know is coming, but it does involve the noble
attempt of James’ character to get his kids listed as beneficiaries of under
his life insurance. Of course, the whole charade comes under suspicion when
caseworker Jessica Biel and her lumps act as Sandler hand magnets, which
threatens to blow the whole thing.
Prognostication: You know no level
of railing or critical demolishing of this movie will stop it from being seen
and made successful by far too many people with money to burn.
I like Kevin James, I like Adam Sandler, I really like Biel in wet underpants
and I usually like married men, but man the tone of this thing is crying tired
retread of the usual Sandler comedy from much too far away. Still, it’s got an
endorsement from GLAAD, so at least the stereotypes are acceptable. (I wonder
if they screened Rob Schneider’s bit part for the Media Action Network for Asian
Says: Word out of the 2006 Toronto
Film Festival was fairly solid on All the
Love Mandy Lane
quasi-slasher flick about a bunch of horny high school guys who court a
done-got-hot-in-a-hurry teenage girl at their own peril. I actually just got a screener copy of this,
and will be weighing as soon as I get a chance to watch it, but it doesn’t
sound like that’ll help the film’s commercial prospects much, as The Weinstein
Company is dumping the film without a substantial marketing push.
Commercially, it’s looking
pretty grim, but I’ve heard that the lead chick in the film, Amber Heard, is
hot enough to warrant a viewing regardless of the film’s quality (she’ll be
appearing in one of next year’s big Judd Apatow comedies, The Pineapple
Express, with Seth Rogen and James Franco).
That could point to a long, healthy life on DVD and cable. It’s just too bad the film isn’t getting a
fair shot at finding an audience in the theaters.
Micah says: Danny Boyle and Alex
Garland bring us this sci-fi tale of an international group assigned with
re-igniting our dying sun in a last ditch effort to save our world. You’ve got
Cillian Murphy, Chris Evans, Rose Byrne, Cliff Curtis, and The Last Samurai’s
Hiroyuki Sanada all as part of the main crew, and best of all, there are no
awkward animal cracker scenes between Chris Evans and Rose Byrne. I think.
Prognostication: In a summer filled with much more
expensive joyrides, this is quite the odd duck. But I think it’ll work to the
film’s advantage if Fox Searchlight handles the ad blitz for this right. It’s
also the only sci-fi film of the month, aside from Transformers, which will
have peaked by now. Of course, it’s not a thrill-a-minute action ride, and so
we can only hope that a kinda-sorta cerebral sci-fi film will stand a chance at
a time when Americans are primed for anything but. Otherwise…Solaris,
WEEK OF JULY 27
Hoping to garner some of the Arctic love bestowed upon March of the Penguins,
Arctic Tale follows the same format– right down to choosing silky voiced Queen
Latifah as narrator. Apparently Morgan Freeman had his fill of the
a walrus calf and polar bear cub, coming full circle in the meeting of both
families, when the Polar Bears subsequently rip the Walrus family to bloody,
bite sized pieces.
Prognostication: Ok, so there’s no
indication that one of the two stars will inflict childhood trauma on the
audience by viscerally dismantling the other, but maybe there should be. Life
is tough, kids and Polar bear and Walri are not friends. Arctic Tale gets a
wide release in August, but seeing how the phenomenon that was March of the
Penguins probably won’t be duplicated in my lifetime, I bid Arctic Tale a
sincere good luck.
The Sugar Curtain
Russ Says: Camila Guzman Uzula grew up in
was a post-revolutionary Communist paradise. State-provided systems flourished,
at least in her recollection: healthcare, housing, employment. Guzman left the
country before the collapse of the
post-Soviet economic climate changed
this documentary, which contrasts her recollections against the reality faced
by friends who remained in
shine had faded from the revolution.
Prognostication: It’s a great time to release any
heavily embargoed, often minimized and persistently influential little country
has had serious mass media exposure this year. But The Sugar Curtain made
only small ripples when it played
chance of attracting attention in theatres, even in a week filled with dreck
Know Who Killed Me and Skinwalkers.
Russ Says: In 1971, a group of 28 protesters
raided a draft board office in
mill leftist mob. The Catholic Left activists counted a Lutheran minister and
four Catholic priests among their numbers. All were arrested in what appeared
to be a pre-arranged police raid. Their arrest and protracted legal battle (called
“one of the great trials of the 20th Century” by Supreme Court
Justice William Brennan) is the subject of the film, which also casts an eye to
the modern relevance of the
Prognostication: Travesties of law
enforcement and justice make for great cinema, but the tale in The
which is giving this doc a
In Sight. If the film can’t press the current echoes of the arrest and
trial, with major travesties of justice omnipresent in the minds of politically
aware filmgoers, the almost quaint fascism experienced by the group in 1971
might even seem appealing.
Russ Says: You don’t have to be fat to be a
Fat Girl; you don’t even have to be a girl. It’s a state of mind. So says Rodney
(writer/director Ash Christian), who is suffering through high school in a
small town south of Dallas, more or less like everyone else. OK, maybe a little
more. He’s gay, a theater lover and best friends with very overweight Sabrina. But
insecurities won’t always rule, and with the encouragement of theater teacher Mr.
Cox (oh, lord) Rodney (I mean, really) might just overcome his social stigma
and get a date with the beefcake exchange student, if not achieve his dreams of
Prognostication: Reading about the film, I
approach Fat Girls with the same interest I have for every other post-Napoleon
Dynamite high school bildungsroman
(yeah, I’m using the term loosely) that wins over a festival audience: zilch.
But unless you can go see No End In Sight, this week is a
total disaster, and so I’m willing to put aside potentially unfair predjudices
created by Jon Heder. Then again, watching the trailer, which overshadows a
vaguely charming atmosphere with the same teen sex jokes I feel like I’ve seen
a hundred times, maybe not.
I Know Who Killed Me
Otherwise known as "Lindsay Finally Legitimizes What Paparazzi Have Been
Taking Pictures of For Years". Lohan’s attempts to shake off all those
clingy tweens who proclaim her "role model" by delving into more
"adult" material plays out in this meager thriller. Thriller?
Yes- thrill as high school student Aubrey goes missing while a stripper who looks
just like her turns up claiming she knows the details. Stalled out in January
thanks to Lohan’s much publicized rehab stint, the film finally arrives to
satiate all who want on-screen Lohan sex of the feature film variety.
Prognostication: Lohan is the
singular draw to this film and with her recent trips to the box office dunk
tank thanks to Georgia Rule, A Prairie Home Companion and Just My Luck, I
really don’t think anyone cares at this point. Look for I Know to bow weakly
and sink quickly, since Lohan’s star seems to have migrated from characters on
film to silly minutia in tabloid.
No End in Sight
No End in Sight
Says: Charles Ferguson won the 2007
Sundance Film Festival Special Jury Prize for his documentary on the Bush
Administration’s brilliantly effective strategy for winning the war in
nevertheless receiving a
theatrical run because folks are apparently still willing to fork over full
admission to get pissed off over the most catastrophically incompetent
presidency of our lifetimes. Actually,
I’ve heard the documentary is very measured takedown of American foreign
policy, so you could certainly do worse.
If it’s eligible for a Best
Documentary Oscar at this year’s Academy Awards, No End in Sight could be the
frontrunner. I can’t imagine it’ll hang
around in theaters for long (and I don’t know if that PBS broadcast
disqualified it), but this could have a longer shelf life than, say, one of
those idiotic Robert Greenwald docs.<