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In writing Fulltime Killer screenwriter Joey O’Brien said he was creating “Not a narrative, but something abstract, a movie about movies.” In this he was wildly successful. O and Tok are the film’s protagonists, both alike in occupation and different in every other way possible. O is cool, calm, and very professional, maintaining the same detached expression at all times. Tok is the yang to O’s yin, eliminating his targets with maniacal glee using innovative methods and in general hamming it up in front of the camera. Obviously the world isn’t big enough for the both of them and the entire Asian continent is the arena as these globetrotting hitmen battle for supremacy. The story is rounded out by the usual subplots involving the requisite love interest and the maverick cop.

What makes Fulltime Killer so much fun is the plethora of movie references. The Professional, Assassins, and many many Hong Kong gun-fu movies are alluded to or simply have scenes or dialogue stolen from outright. At one point in the movie Tok tells a mob boss to watch more action movies and the love interest refers to Tok as Leon from The Professional. This is an action film for people who love action films, refreshingly unapologetic and without any pretense that it exists for anything but to blow stuff up. People may not know what to make of this movie. Some might call it an homage, some might call it artistic theft, but to others it is a lot of fun.

Movies like Happy Here And Now are the reason people are wary of going to independent films. The production values are decent, but the story makes no sense and the dialogue is boring. In the city of New Orleans Amelia is searching for her sister, Muriel, who has recently disappeared. The recordings of Internet conversations with a mysterious Eddy Mars contained on her laptop computer are the only clue to her whereabouts. In the movie people have video conversations with each other over the Internet and are able to appear however they wish.

The film’s weakest link, and there are many, is the Eddy Mars character. He talks on and on about inventors and philosophers in an artificial, deep voice as if that imbues his words with meaning. Also the story has a subplot involving a firefighter and a fireman’s widow that goes nowhere, much like the rest of the movie. The appearing however you like on the Internet is obviously a metaphor for something and the use of grainy black-and-white images indicates that this film is trying to send a message, but what exactly that message is is anybody’s guess. Up until the ending, many of the film’s shortcomings could have been labeled as “arty” or “eccentric” and thus past the understanding of the common viewer (this writer included). But the ending confirms suspicions that the past two hours have been wasted watching a pretentious piece of junk.

At first The Hard Word may seem like typical Hollywood fare. Three brothers, led by Dale (Guy Pearce), are released from prison into the custody of their double-dealing lawyer to pull one last heist. Of course things get a little more complicated on the outside as it turns out Dale’s wife Carol (Rachel Griffiths) has been having an affair with the lawyer, causing him to have a certain conflict of interests.

Besides the crime drama, The Hard Word has many other scenes that do not directly add to the story, but do add amusement. For instance who knew that butchers have their own secret language? The brothers are the focus of the movie and they are on screen most of the time, being funny, being insightful, but most of all being different. Perhaps being set and shot in Australia is the reason this movie feels different from the Hollywood norm. Many of the scenes with the brothers could have been edited out without any loss to the story, but the pace and feel of the movie would have been very different.

All of the scenes involving crime are well done, bringing suspense exactly as needed. Some of the depictions of violence are so over the top as to be cartoonish, but it never distracts from the characters. The brothers and the lawyer are well fleshed out by the end of the film, but unfortunately Rachel Griffiths is not given enough screen time. Her character is a blonde version of the total slut Brenda from HBO’s Six Feet Under, but we never get to know her beyond that. An amusing film, especially if you like Australian accents.

Two Irish documentarians were filming Venezuelan president Hugo Chavez when military and private interests decide to lead a coup, all in front of rolling cameras. Hugo Chavez has always been a controversial figure. He himself attempted a failed coup in 1992 before being elected in 1998. Chavez plans to redistribute Venezuela’s oil wealth, with sweeping social reforms that threaten corporate interests and would have easily labeled him a communist during the Cold War. Venezuela is, according to the film, the world’s fourth-largest exporter of oil, and the American government is none too pleased with Chavez’s plans to raise oil prices. Not too long after a meeting between the heads of the Venezuelan opposition party and American heads of state, the military calls for Chavez to step down and the coup is under way.

Aside from the classic Gil Scott-Heron piece, the title The Revolution Will Not Be Televised comes from the fact that the Venezuelan media is controlled by the wealthy elites opposed to Chavez. Throughout the film, news clips are shown in comparison to the film shot by the documentary crew. It brings light to a new type of war, the media war, which, with the war in Iraq is all the more pertinent. If the news is all one had to go by it would have been easy to believe that Chavez was responsible for his own downfall and after he was taken prisoner it was business as usual in the city of Caracas. This angle works against the film a little bit since we are being taught not to trust the media so how can we trust this film, but it is a small complaint. The Revolution Will Not Be Televised is an excellent film. It offers a chance to see history unfold as it happened and it begs the viewer to question everything they see on the news. In these troubled times the message is impossible to ignore.

The Dance
Director: John Darling Haynes

The Dance in the title is the modern gladiatorial sport known as boxing. The boxing takes place in Louisiana state penitentiaries under the tutelage of former professional boxer Billy “the kid” Roth. Billy comes down to coach fighters and judge matches every week without fail. He provides these services without any thought of reward and, as far as one can tell, out of concern for his “boys.” The film follows three boxers during their time in prison and afterward. The movie is remarkably apolitical, never questioning who is responsible for the present state of affairs for these young men or the ethics of prisoners being forced to labor 14 hours a day in the fields.

The Dance is very predictable, featuring soul music and using a quote from The Shawshank Redemption. The stories of all three fighters are completely interchangeable. The young men find success and discipline through boxing in prison under Billy’s coaching. After their terms are up, they get into professional boxing with moderate success. The movie shows many scenes of these lean, mean, fighting machines working out, but footage of actual boxing is surprisingly rare. Billy Roth is a remarkable person and his devotion to these young men whom society has turned its back on is truly admirable, but this documentary comes off feeling more like a commercial for a Chevrolet than a celebration of triumph against all odds.

Valley Of Tears begins as a documentary about a 1979 strike held by Mexican-American onion harvesters in the town of Raymondville, Texas. The strike and its aftermath contain more than enough drama to sustain an entire two hours of film, but after only an hour of the movie the filmmaker decides to cover the school system of Raymondville and then the political campaign for district attorney. These other stories are very compelling, but they cause the film to lose focus and none of the three topics is covered in sufficient depth.

The director follows the typical documentary format, with interviews of town residents on both sides of the picket lines and, amazingly, footage taken during the strike itself. The interviews of the striking migrant workers are typical, containing dialogue of unending support to the cause of decent wages and equality. Meanwhile, the good-ol’-boys of Raymondville cannot help making complete idiots of themselves every time they are on camera. They seemed to be living in some sort of plantation fallacy where the Mexican migrant workers were happily working for pennies on the dollar and the strike was the result of outside “agitators.” They actually say this, that there wouldn’t have been these troubles if it hadn’t been for outside agitators. Valley Of Tears could have provided an insightful look at the strike and its effects on Raymondville then and now, but whatever story this film tries to tell is lost in the tangled mess caused by the lack of creative discipline of the part of the filmmaker.