Whale Rider (IMDB) (Netflix)
An interesting pairing with Northfork; two very different takes on losing a way of life. Pai is the only child in the line of succession to a Maori chief, but is in the highly unfortunate position of being a girl in a tribal patriarchy, and the only survivor of a tragic birth that took both her twin brother and her mother. The chief, her grandfather, is a hardcase conservative consumed with keeping the old traditions and could not be more ambivalent about Pai, who's just as willful and stubborn as her grand-dad—she wants to be a leader, too, and that contentious relationship is the spine of the film.

This film has been a clear critical success and a crowd-pleaser; fellow viewers Tim and Jennifer (both professional storytellers, so they certainly know their narratives) loved it. While I ended up liking it, there was a long warm-up period—the story seems stuck within its coming-of-age and holding-onto-the-past themes, resulting in too many stock scenes, when it could have transcended those themes (see Northfork for an extreme example of the latter case). Keisha Castle-Hughes is a precocious talent with the presence of a forty-year-old, and Whale Rider is a timeless and noble story that finally succeeds—I just wish it had been less of a last-minute victory.

For those with less jaded hearts, and—honest—kids approaching adolescence.

Northfork (IMDB) (Netflix)
Opening scenes: a final notice to dis-inter your loved one from the cemetary, a very sick boy being left with the local priest by his adoptive parents as they tearfully leave town, a dedication ceremony. Northfork, Montana is dying, to be flooded by a hydro-electric project that will flood the whole valley, and crew of serious, gentle men are determined to persuade their fellow citizens to leave in time, while the boy claims to be an angel who's lost his wings. By the Polish Brothers, Mark and Michael (think "Coen boys on Valium, hold the menace, extra whimsy"). A movie about leaving the past and embracing an uncertain future. Starring Nick Nolte, James Woods, Peter Coyote and Darryl Hannah, and host of other actors who have focused their careers on the unique rather than lucrative.

It's a curious little gem that works especially well for people who see too many movies; people like me. The film doesn't reveal its tonal center for some time; you're not sure if it's a comedy, tragedy, mystical fable or something entirely new, so there's no easy settling in "oh, I get it" moment, just a slow calibration of the audience to the Polish sensibility. The stark Montana scenery is beautifully photographed; not in that obvious "golden hour" orange that has been so overdone, but a more poignant, more authentic palette. The humor is so deadpan and sly that it can easily be missed, and the off-beat spiritual angle is the one part that clinks a little, but the acting is all-around-wonderful. For those looking for a cinematic road less travelled and all the more scenic, and whose senses haven't been completely dulled by the summer blockbusters.

One of the best films so far this year.

Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl (IMDB) (Netflix)
The colon-ated title signals that this is Disney's latest attempt at a sequel-friendly movie franchise, with Johnny Depp as pirate Captain Jack Sparrow, Geoffrey Rush as the mutinous-but-cursed Barbossa, Keira Knightly as Elizabeth Swann, the Governor's daughter, and Orlando Bloom as Will Turner, the smitten blacksmith. Everybody wants something: Sparrow wants his ship back, Barbossa wants Elizabeth's gold medallion and Turner just wants Elizabeth. Someone's going to be disappointed.

Weighing in at a Harry Potter-esque two hours and fifteen minutes, it's too long (by the end, one youngster had collapsed from fatigue), which is unfortunate, because this was great fun. Depp has always played his roles a little off-balance, and here he has a role where he can really cut loose: a slightly mad, mascara'd charmer with a scorned-and-furious woman in every port. Knightly is vulnerable without being helpless and Rush is unabashedly evil. Despite the huge number of convincing ghost-skeletons, or maybe because of them, the kids in the audience seemed to eat this one up.

Tiring, but not tiresome.

The Hard Word (IMDB) (Netflix)
An Aussie noir, with Guy Pearce (L.A. Confidential, Memento) and Rachel Griffiths (Six Feet Under). Pearce is one of three brothers who have made a not-very-lucrative career out of robbing banks and armored cars, and the next big score is the race track, with the help of a shady lawyer and some crooked cops, and Griffiths is his less-than-faithful wife. There's something about the ponies that attracts the ne'er-do-wells and the screenwriters.

It's an earthy, quirky goulash of a story, hitting a lot of different notes—ruthlessness, fecklessness, dark comedy and betrayal—while maintaining its footing, a difficult trick. Pearce seems to relish being a scruffy, feverish lout for a change, while Griffiths is as unsympathetic a soulmate as you could find. There was one plot point that now seems to have been a bit of a cheat, but otherwise a decent film about, as a buddy just summed up, "guys who think they're a lot smarter than they really are."

Swimming Pool (IMDB) (Netflix)
Charlotte Rampling is a successful-but-bored writer in the Miss Marple/Agatha Christie mold, who takes a holiday at her publisher's villa in France. Just as she's letting her English hair down and getting into a writing groove, in pops the publisher's daughter (Ludivine Sagnier)—Rampling's alter ego, a new-guy-every-night, clothing-optional bohemian who antagonizes Rampling with her mere presence and undisciplined behavior. Just as they're nearing a rapprochement, though, complications ensue and the tone becomes darker. Nominated this year for the Golden Palm at the Cannes Film Festival, which for some is a solid recommendation and to others a signal to quickly skip on down the movie listings.

As I was leaving the theater, a stranger asked me "did you understand the ending?" I didn't, not exactly. There's a twist right at the end, which was a pleasant-although-not-original surprise, followed by a mystifying coda of sorts that made me wonder if I actually understood what happened in the preceding one hundred minutes. Rampling is always watchable, but there's not a lot going on for the first hour; it's long first act followed by an out-of-the-blue plot twist that's resolved in a way that makes one wonder about her motivation. A slow, sunlit film noir that lacks that essential sense of dread.