First the good - Benicio is simply mesmerizing in his portrayal. Soderbergh crafts the film in an effective way, and the supporting characters provide convincing and memorable performances (helpful when trying to keep everyone straight in your head). The challenge, however, is that the first half of the flick (basically the first movie), telling the tale of Cuba and the rise of Che and Castro, is so compelling, so richly drawn and performed, that the Bolivian scenes of Che's descent are an inevitable disappointment.

The screening had both halves of the tale stuck together with a brief intermission (each is dubbed, apparently, The Argentinian and The Guerrilla respectively, although we had no credits at all). This break further emphasized the fact that the first portion was far more of an enjoyable, accessible film than the latter half. Still, taken together, this epic tale is an insightful, audacious film, lovingly shot and quite astonishing in its scope. A commendable effort, and if not a total success, still certainly a worthwhile film to visit.

Witch Hunt follows the cases of a number of individuals who were wrongfully jailed for child molestation. Narrated by Executive Producer Sean Penn, this matter-of-fact doc tells of social workers coercing children to testify against their parents, prosecutors zealously trumping up charges and judges giving multi-century sentences to the convicted.

While the story is certainly provocative, and the miscarriage of justice a tragedy, the film does a very poor job of contextualizing the decisions that resulted in these convictions, nor does it give any real attempt to relay the factors that drove the prosecution in the first place. The film works best, in fact, when the officers who do decide to go on camera discuss the fact that there need not be a conspiracy for such actions to have been taken, that the miscarriage was brought about by incompetence and a lack of training, not maliciousness or evil. This hardly makes up for the twenty years that some suffered in prison, naturally, but for the doc's sake, it's a nice respite from the repetitive, didactic tone of the rest of the film.

Stretched to theatrical length with an ending that seems interminable, this is a formidable subject to be tackled, yet it is tackled poorly. Special mention must be made of the plinky, grating guitar music that's meant to invoke mood, and instead invokes mere annoyance.

A zombie movie where we don't really get to see the zombies, they're all outside the radio station trying to get in.

Clever, but almost too clever by half, McDonald does wonders in stretching his meagre budget and single location shoot into creating a moody, wacky tale of paranoia in small town Ontario. The intimate scope of the film works well to build tension, but after a while I felt it a little too confining. Originally envisaged as a radio play, I can't help feeling that the medium of radio actually would have been preferable, as the visuals do little to advance the plot, and, if anything, prove distracting to the mood of the audio portion of the tale. Interesting, engaging, but in the end a missed opportunity.

This is, I think, the most successful of "Beat" Takeshi's recent films regarding his life and his art. The final part of a planned trilogy (joining Glory to the Filmmaker and Takeshis), this flick playfully satirizes Kitano's penchant for painting, tracing his development from childhood, through art school, to middle age. The title is explained in a cheesy, amusing animation, elucidating Xeno's paradox about the infinite splitting of fractions. It provides the sense of a journey that's never quite completed, a journey that Kitano explores with subtlety and wit.

From the earliest moments, the central character is obsessively creating art, much to the chagrin of those surrounding him. This compulsion results in a staggering collection of pieces, starting with child-like original works early on, only to find with experience and exposure to other masters a creeping plagiarism.

The search for originality without copying others is a central theme, along with the (shockingly literal) demonstration of suffering for one's art. There is sadness and pity in the tale, but it's told with such a light and playful touch that it's hard not succumbing to the charms of even the most disturbing of scenes.

Quirky and joyous, and most importantly accessible, this is a masterfully crafted film by a unique and original filmmaker at the top of his game.