OK, most of us like lists. They’re easy to compile, easy to read, not particularly challenging to the imagination and fun to debate.

Last week I was talked into thinking about movie psychopaths when my friend Dan Fratini brought up a couple of movie psychos, namely Michael Madsen’s Mr. Blonde in “Reservoir Dogs” and Javier Bardem’s Anton Chigurh in “No Country for Old Men.”

I gave the subject some thought and rejected both as a little too obvious and mindless. I prefer some thoughtfulness to my psychos, which is how I came up with the following list of The 10 Smartest Psychopaths in Movie History.

10. Raymond Lemorne (Bernard-Pierre Donnadieu): “Spoorloos” (1988), dir. by George Sluizer. When a guy loses his lover at a European rest area, he spends three years searching for her. Then he begins to receive letters from a creepy, if amiably so, guy who promises to reveal the missing woman’s fate. That creep, well played by the French actor Donnadieu, follows through on his promise – the result being an ending that is nothing less than shattering. And at least in this original version, he’s still out there.

9. Norman Bates (Anthony Perkins): “Psycho” (1960), dir. by Alfred Hitchcock. By now we all know Norman, the mama’s boy who just can’t help himself when mom demands that he act – even if by act she means cut people up with a butcher knife. Norman is no dummy, though. He’ll show them who has the power by … just … shutting … down.

8. Patrick Bateman (Christian Bale): “American Psycho” (2000), dir. by Mary Harron. Don’t ever compete with Patrick, especially when it comes to designing business cards. You just might end up kissing the wrong end of a chainsaw. If such a thing as gleeful bloodletting exists, then this is it.

7. John Doe (Kevin Spacey): “Se7en” (1995), dir. by David Fincher. No criminal is more of a puppetmaster than John Doe, the biblically driven murderer of Fincher’s movie. Even the two otherwise bright detectives (played by Morgan Freeman and Brad Pitt) find themselves outsmarted by this creep – to the point of ultimate ruin. Heads up, Gwyneth.

6. Max Cady (Robert Mitchum): “Cape Fear” (1962), dir. by J. Lee Thompson. In some similar lists, you’ll find Robert De Niro in this spot, courtesy of Martin Scorsese’s 1991 remake of Thompson’s film (both are based on John D. MacDonald’s 1957 novel). But I think De Niro grandstands, making his portrayal of backwoods-smart Cady into an acting exercise, while Mitchum uses his own simmering sense of masculine rage to give his portrayal a more penetrating, and therefore scary, authenticity.

5. Bruno Anthony (Robert Walker): “Strangers on a Train” (1951), dir. by Alfred Hitchcock. Dreamed up by Patricia Highsmith, Bruno becomes a more complicated creature by virtue of Hitchcock’s brilliant casting of Walker. Known mostly as a light leading man, whose bland good looks usually underscore his light comic touch, Walker gives Bruno a particularly chilling feel. He proves almost too clever for the tennis-playing patsy played by Farley Granger.

4. Harry Powell (Robert Mitchum): “The Night of the Hunter” (1955), dir. by Charles Laughton. This was Mitchum’s turn to act, giving the character of the would-be preacher Harry a stirring sense of evangelical psychopathy. But he pulls it off, from his wide-eyed pursuit of the two children to his tattooed knuckles (love/hate).

3. Alex DeLarge (Malcolm McDowell): “A Clockwork Orange” (1971), dir. by Stanley Kubrick. Head Droog Alex, narrator of British novelist Anthony Burgess’ masterful 1962 book, tells us all about his degeneracy, his fall, his punishment and erstwhile “redemption” and, finally, his return to his natural state, with a sense of joy that feels purely American. The irony is that, in the original novel, at least, Alex finally does … well, change. Not in Kubrick’s version, though. Kubrick’s Alex is still singing show tunes while enjoying a bit of the old ultraviolence.

2. The Joker (Heath Ledger): “The Dark Knight” (2008), dir. by Christopher Nolan. Debate all you want the virtues of Ledger’s acting abilities, his reinvention of The Joker gives Nolan’s Batman an able and willing foe. Ledger’s Joker is interested far less in reaping the financial rewards of crime as he is in exploring the very anarchic joy that his crime sprees arouse. And as he says, Batman … completes him. This is a portrayal for the ages, one that all other psychopathic portrayals will be compared.

1. Hannibal Lecter (Anthony Hopkins): “The Silence of the Lambs” (1991), dir. by Jonathan Demme. But when it comes to the king of psychos, only one reigns. And that character, created by novelist Thomas Harris, has been portrayed on screen no less than three times by the great Hopkins. Though Brian Cox predated him as Lecter (in 1986’s “Manhunter”), it was Hopkins who will be remembered as the thinking-man’s murderer, one who can listen to Bach while wielding a cudgel or eating a census taker’s liver with fava beans and a nice chi-an-ti.

Below: Anthony Hopkins as Dr. Hannibal Lecter.

Here’s another interesting list, this one that claims to be “The 25 Best Movie Performances of the Decade.” And of course there are many worthy selections on it.

But as the comments show, there are many others that, for one reason or another, got left off. In fact, the comments - which include the obligatory flamer or two - point out the list’s biggest flaw. Because the authors decided to limit each actor to one appearance, it automatically makes the list “The Best Movie Performances by Individual Actors of the Decade.”

There’s no other way to explain why - as several comments pointed out - you would include Heath Ledger for “Brokeback Mountain” and then leave off his scintillating performance as The Joker in “The Dark Knight.”

The fact is, some actors - by some blend of talent and opportunity - pull off more great performances than others. And that should be recognized.

I have no argument with the No. 1 selection. Charlize Theron’s take as Aileen Wuornos in “Monster” is an all-time performance. I would, though, rank Ledger’s Joker as No. 2.

Below: Charlize Theron as Aileen Wuornos.

One thing that any movie fan worth his box-office receipts looks for is a decent list of recommendations - especially lists that include movies he’s never even heard of.

I’ve heard, and seen, most of the movies on this list of the “Best 100 Horror Films.” But there are a few that have escaped my notice. “Them” for one (I passed on the American remake “The Strangers”). “Martyrs” for another. And “The Innocents” for a third.

Looks as if I still have some work to do. So, I suspect, do you.

Below: The trailer for “Martyrs.”

Lots of good movies coming out on DVD this week. Following are a few of the more notable ones:

“Bruno”: Sacha Baron Cohen tries to do with his fasionista Bruno character what he did with the faux Kazakhstani journalist Borat, but you can do something for the first time only once. Yeah, there are funny moments, and Cohen is supremely talented, but we’ve been here before.

“Downhill Racer”: Michael Ritchie follows a rebellious Olympic skier (Robert Redford) who makes Bode Miller seem like a slave to convention. Made in 1969, this is a classic of ‘70s-era realism. And Redford’s pretty good, too.

“Gone With the Wind”: The 50th-anniversary edition of Victor Fleming’s film comes in multiple editions - two- and five-disc regular editions, two-disc Blu-ray edition - but the film remains the same. It’s an overblown glorification of Southern gentility that’s become a genuine American classic.

“The Goods: Live Hard, Sell Hard”: Jeremy Piven (“Entourage”) stars as a hard-charging used-car salesman. Seems like typecasting.

“How to Live”: Robert “Twilight” Pattinson stars as struggling musician who goes through an existential crisis … not involving vampires.

“The Limits of Control”: Exploring the realm of minimalist absurdity, Jim Jarmusch constructs this story of a hired killer (Isaach de Bankole) whose trek through Spain brings him in contact with a colorful cast of characters.

“Rome”: Ten-disc collection of the HBO series that stars Kevin McKidd and Ray Stevenson as two average Roman soldiers who struggle to survive through the rise, reign and fall of Julius Caesar (Ciaran Hinds) and the emperor who followed him: Augustus.

“Star Trek”: J.J. Abrams presents his makeover of Gene Roddenberry’s series, bringing new energy to the classic tale and one or two essential changes. Spock and Uhura an item? That’s so wrong it’s almost right.

“Thirst”: Korean director Chan-wook Park follows the story of a priest who, following an experimental blood transfusion, becomes a vampire. And then he finds a woman who is even more twisted than he is.

Below: The trailer for “Thirst.”

Movies are all about imagery. That contention is on my mind as I just saw a 90-minute “Independent Lens” that focused on the cinematography careers of Lazlo Kovacs and Vilmos Zsigmond.

But the fact is that often what we most remember about individual films are the lines that the actors recite. Which is why the imbedded YouTube video below is so amazing. And memorable. Thanks to my friend Rich Kuhling for turning me on to it.

Take the 10-plus minutes and enjoy.

I’ve always been intrigued by historical movies, especially those movies that take history and treat it like some sort of bad soap opera. Or middle-school seasonal pageant.

Which is why I found this Web site particularly intriguing. The only problem is that “Pearl Harbor” isn’t on the … no, check that, isn’t atop the list.

I’ve heard some interesting reactions, mostly positive, to Richard Curtis’ film “Pirate Radio.” This confuses me because I’m not that high on the film.

Here’s an example: My grad-school pal, Tom Knappenberger, sent me an e-amil after reading Portland Oregonian critic Shawn Levy’s review of the film. Here is what Tom said:

“Saw ‘Pirate Radio’ last night and absolutely loved it! This despite one of the worst reviews I’ve ever seen from the Oregonian’s Shawn Levy. I posted the following at his review site, which pretty much sums up my thoughts. The music is freaking great and you can’t help but love the characters and what they’re about. A happy film that left me humming ‘I can see for miles’ for hours.
 
“Gotta see this one again!”

Here’s the note that Tom sent to Levy:

“I’ve never commented on your reviews before because, well, opinions are just that. Thank god I didn’t listen to your over-the-top histronics damning ‘Pirate Radio.’ What a great movie! Not Oscar material, but like rock ‘n roll itself, unpredictable, irreverent, joyful and funny. A great time - laughed out loud throughout.
 
“Anyone who grew up with ‘60s music couldn’t help but love this movie - what a soundtrack!
 
“I think you missed the whole point or wanted too much - like dissing the Stones cuz they ain’t Stravinsky. Lighten up while you still can Shawn. This is One Fun Movie!”

Here’s that first line of Levy’s: “Witless, tasteless, toothless, pointless, garish, repetitive, obvious, and painfully dull, ‘Pirate Radio’ is that exceedingly rare film that never, but never puts a foot right. Its writer-director, Richard Curtis (‘Love, Actually’), apparently chopped 20 minutes out of the original version to bring to U.S. audiences the two hours of tedious formlessness that now constitute the awful thing.  But if the film only ran for 20 minutes in total it would wear out its welcome long before that time passed.”

And, finally, here is what I wrote to Tom:

“Tom: I think Levy’s too hard, but I also think you’re being too easy.

“Sure, I liked the music. But I would also have liked a plot, something besides concept to tie the various characters together.

“I would also have liked some sort of explanation about why the U.K. stations at the time couldn’t, or wouldn’t, play rock music other than the simplistic portrayal that Kenneth Branagh offers of the stereotypical conservative government type.

“One thing in particular that threw me: the girl who (makes love to) the fat guy instead of our young protagonist. What was up with that? I’m more or less that young guy’s contemporary, and my life was never that free-spirited and forgiving.

“Still, loved the music. I’m definitely gonna score the soundtrack.”

Then last night at a birthday party, somebody else recommended the film to me. Seems “Pirate Radio” is striking a chord, so to speak, with some viewers. I just don’t happen to be one of them.

Below: The trailer for “Pirate Radio.”

Here’s an interesting list of stupid moments offered by the films of 2008. My favorite? Oh, “Hancock.” Far and away.

If you’re not doing anything tonight at 10 p.m., you might want to check out the play “Take Me Out,” which is ending its short run at Gonzaga University‘s Magnuson Theatre (located at the east end of College Hall).

I went to the show last night and was surprised how good the play is and how well the actors did, considering they’re students and that most of them didn’t know their lines (the production is modified reader’s theater).

But nothing detracts from the play, which is a commentary not so much on any of the individual issues - being gay, being prejudiced, being selfish, being disloyal - as it is how all these issue in concert result in societal dysfunction.

And the cast? Well, several stand out, especially GU basketball player Stephen Gray, who impresses as a Hall of Fame major-leaguer who has just come out as gay and who is considering retirement not because of prejudice but because he just doesn’t want to play anymore. His main foil is played by Bing Blalock, whose job is to portray an ignorant country boy with a blazing fastball and politically incorrect opinions regarding just about everything.

I should reveal that Blalock, a junior, is in one of the BUSN 270 courses that I teach. And, yeah, he’s proven to be that good an actor during our class scenarios, too. His Donald Trump is Tony-worthy.

Word of advice: Get there early. I got one of the few remaining seats last night, and I showed up 15 minutes early.

“Shane” is one of my favorite films. My affection for George Stevens' 1953 Western dates back to when I first saw it, probably sometime during 1953 or '54, with my family at some San Diego or Corpus Christi, Texas, drive-in.

Remember drive-ins? In my family at the time, there were five of us. And my position was right behind my father. So I watched all movies over my father's right shoulder, which was a suitable position considering one of the major themes of “Shane” is the father-son relationship.

But as I explained to an audience at the Magic Lantern last night, my own personal reaction to Stevens' film is only part of what I appreciate about it. If you were to do a poll of any half-dozen critics, you would probably receive a like number of reactions.

Most of them, though, would fall into two basic camps: 1, the film is a masterpiece (maybe flawed but still a masterpiece); 2, “Shane” is an overhyped example of the glorified Western myth.

I fall into the former camp. And much of the reason why dates back to when I first started taking film courses at the University of California, San Diego. In those days, the program stressed structuralism. We were told to look closely at films to try to figure out how they are put together, why the director (editor, cinematographer, camera operator, etc.) makes particular decisions concerning what ends up on the big screen.

And over and above the film's storytelling, this is the heart of a visual medium. And as “Shane” demonstrates, Stevens could be a particularly inventive visualist. I usually refer to four scenes when I emphasize this:

the opening when Shane (Alan Ladd) rides up to the Starret farm and encounters the family, father Joe (Van Heflin), son Joey (Brandon De Wilde) and mother Marian (Jean Arthur);

Torrey's funeral, when the stereotypical grave-side sequence is broken up by the actions of a dog, the talk of children, a haunting harmonica and the ever-present vistas of the Tetons in the distance;

the climactic meeting between the Ryker brothers (Emile Meyer, John Dierkes) in the Starret's front yard, where the themes of rancher vs. homesteader are expressed but our attention, and Joey's, are on the two preening gunfighters;

and the finale, which includes the obligatory shootout, Shane's goodbye to Joey and his lonely ride out of the valley.

But I would also add the fight scene between Shane and father Joe, one that takes place in the cabin's front yard but which is seen mostly from inside where Marian and Joey are running from window to window. The men fight, the livestock scrambles wildly out of the way and all is in tormoil until, locked in a manly embrace against the very upended tree trunk that originally bonded them, Shane pulls out his pistol and knocks Joe unconscious.

The sequence is masterful in its economy of style, unlike most anything seen in movies today. But, of course, it may have been a cinematic necessity considering Heflin, standing 6-feet-tall, towered over the 5-feet-4 Ladd. There was no way Stevens could have filmed a straight up fight between the two and make it believable.

Such, though, is great cinema. You take a problem and make it a benefit.

I certainly appreciate that. And last night's audience seemed to, also.

The next offering in the Professor's Series, which is sponsored by the Spokane Intrernational Film Festival, is the director's cut of Ridley Scott's “Blade Runner.” Don't miss it.

Below: The trailer for “Blade Runner.”

Today seems like a good day to tell this story.

I spent all but three weeks of 1969 stationed in Vung Ro Bay, Vietnam. I was attached to the 18th Military Police Brigade, and our mission was to provide harbor security for the many boats and ships that would offload everything from jet fuel (that would then go to the nearby Tuy Hoa Air Force Base) to pallets of beer (PBR being our favorite).

On our off hours, when we weren’t being harassed by our first sergeant, we used to catch rides on the trucks headed to Tuy Hoa. Because while we lived in wooden hootches set just off a sandy beach, the living arrangements were a bit spartan.

Meanwhile, at the Air Force base, the airmen lived in air-conditioned billets, got served hot meals three times a day, could go and order ice cream and hamburgers and even sit in an indoor movie house. At Vung Ro, we were lucky to eat cafeteria food and, sometimes, see movies projected on a sheet draped over the side of a bunker.

Anyway, one morning after night patrol I hitchhiked to Tuy Hoa, checked my weapons at the base’s main gate, enjoyed a hot meal and then made my way to the movie house where Franco Zeffirelli’s “Romeo and Juliet” was playing.

If you’ve seen the film, you know how good it is. Olivia Hussey, then barely 16, plays Juliet to Leonard Whiting’s Romeo. John McEnery is Mercutio, while a young Michael York is Tybalt. And the whole thing was shot in scenic parts of Italy that I have since visited.

But here’s my point: When the movie ended, and the house lights came back up, there I was sitting amid a bunch of tough guys, most of whom were - as I was- dressed in our worn fatigues, our boots still muddy from the red Vietnam clay. Everyone stood, stretched, and got set to go back out into the real, dangerous world.

But I kept my seat. At least for a couple of minutes. I didn’t want the moment to end, didn’t want to leave the world that Zeffirelli had so artfully crafted, didn’t want to have to go back to a world of patrols, C-rations, mindless filling of sandbags, martinets who confused sadism with necessary military discipline and the spectre of danger that lay over everything.

But there was another reason, too, I didn’t want to get up.

I was crying. For Romeo and Juliet, sure, but for myself as well. And while crying wasn’t something you saw a lot of on military bases, even on patrol at 2 a.m., Zeffirelli’s movie had given me the opportunity, not to mention the impetus, to let down emotionally.

So I sat there and cried. And then, after a few minutes, I wiped my eyes, blew my nose, went back out into the sunshine, reclaimed my weapons and went back to work.

That’s the world of the soldier, the sailor, the airman and Marine.

To all of you, I say, this Veteran’s Day is for you. Enjoy it, wherever you are, however you can.

Below: “Romeo and Juliet,” circa 1968, on YouTube.

There was a moment in “This Is It,” the Michael Jackson musical documentary that opened Oct. 28, that rivals any scare offered up by “Paranormal Activity.”

The moment occurs during a London press conference where hundreds - it could be thousands - of fans greet Jackson’s arrival as if they are finally meeting their Messiah. They scream and go all googly-eyed in a way that made me believe that, had they gotten the chance, they would have eaten him like ravenous zombies.

As the author Jane Porter once wrote, “The mob is a sort of bear; while your ring is through its nose, it will even dance under your cudgel; but should the ring slip, and you lose your hold, the brute will turn and rend you.”

While watching the movie, and on occasion tapping my foot to all the classic Jackson songs, I kept thinking of other celebrities that fell prey to the demands of fame, Marilyn Monroe and Elvis chief among them. This is the kind of pressures that Jackson was under, which makes what happened to him seem more understandable.

As for the film itself, it doesn’t quite stand on its own. It depends on two main reactions from the audiences that see it. One, it’s clear that Jackson’s London shows, the 50 comeback performances that the movie reports were sold out in advance, would have made spectacular musical theater. The dancing, video, pyrotechnics and music would, it seems, have given a new meaning to the term concert extravaganza. And the loss of this is, indeed, sad.

Two, though, is even more important. Call it the Jackson curiosity factor. Ignore, if you can, the charges thrown at Jackson over the years involving child abuse. Just stick with his changing facial features. What’s clear from “This Is It” is that, after the years of plastic surgery and other various processes, Jackson came to resemble something out of “The Wizard of Oz” more than anything resembling the cute little boy who once performed with his older siblings.

What you see in the film is, then, is actually fairly sad. True, the film is a compilation only of rehearsals, and at no time does Jackson actually let loose with all of the riveting stage presence he once had. But there’s at least a suggestion that, at age 50, he no longer possessed that presence. It may be that the very reason for all the flash of the show was, in addition to wowing the crowds, an attempt to cover up Jackson’s loss of voice, energy and imagination.

What Jackson does show in the film are moments from the past, almost a greatest-moments collection, that work with the familiar music to remind us of what he once was. But they are the same moves, augmented now by a troupe of younger and more versatile dancers. The now-thin voice is enhanced electronically and accompanied by a covey of excellent musicians. The videos, too, lift Jackson beyond his own limitations by pairing him with scenes from classic noir films starring Humphrey Bogart, Rita Hayworth and Edward G. Robinson.

And all that might have been enough to make for a great stage show. It’s less successful in the film because, as with most penetrating cinema, the camera hits on an essential - if in this case unintended - truth. And that is for all the flash and fire, it is Jackson who is at the heart of the action.

Not the Jackson of the Jackson 5 or the Jackson of ‘80s-era videos such as “Billie Jean” or “Thriller” but a Jackson who, slowly but inexorably, had become a near parody of his former self. The fans screaming for their savior may not have seen that Jackson, but anyone looking clearly certainly will.

That’s why “This Is It,” for me at least, is less a celebration than a fright show all its own.

Below: The trailer for “This Is It.”

As I sit here watching Anthony Bourdain motorscooter through the Laotian highlands, sobering up as he confronts both the legacy of the Vietnam War and the country’s enduring culture, I’m thinking about the movie that I saw last night at the Magic Lantern.

“35 Shots of Rum” is a curious little French-language movie, directed by Claire Denis, that steps into a slice of contemporary French life for … oh, about 100 minutes or so. Nothing new in that. But Denis offers something unusual: We step into this world with no explanation, are introduced to characters who do little to explain who they are and follow a story line that does even less to tell us exactly who is who and what’s going on.

We follow Lionel, a black Frenchman who works as a subway driver. We meet his daughter, Josephine, who lives with him in a modern apartment complex. And we meet the people who revolve around them, from Gabrielle, the cab driver who has an undefined relationship with Lionel and who acts like a mother to Josephine, to Noe, the guy from the upstairs apartment who also is part of Lionel’s extended “family” but who has an undefined relationship with Josephine.

But that’s nothing strange. Almost all of “35 Shots” is undefined, including the title, which has something to do with a ritual that Lionel recognizes on special occasions - however he defines them. Trouble is, Lionel doesn’t define much of anything, and he hardly ever speaks about what’s going on behind his mostly impassive gaze.

This lack of context, much less subtext, is bound to disturb many viewers. But if you just go along with things, accept these characters for who they are in each moment that passes, you just might enjoy yourself. I certainly did.

Just don’t ask me to explain exactly what happens.

Below: The trailer for “35 Shots of Rum.”

I could do a lot of research and try to come up with a list of the most-anticipated films of 2010. Sure I could. But why go to the effort when all I really have to do is link to a site that’s already done it. Not sure I agree with all of the selections - a remake of “The A-Team”? - but there are some pretty good reasons to think that cinema will last at least another year.

Below: Promotion for “Iron Man 2.”

While I sit here watching “Law & Order,” I’m thinking about the movie that we saw earlier this evening - the curiously named “The Men Who Stare at Goats.” Based on the trailer, i was expecting a comedy. And a comedy is what I got.

What I needed, though, was an ending.

The conceit of the film, which is based on a nonfiction book by British writer Jon Ronson, is that an American journalist named Bob Wilton (Ewan McGregor) stumbles onto the story of his life.  He meets Lyn Cassidy (George Clooney), a retired “psychic spy” who prefers the title of Jedi warrior. Seems Cassidy was once part of a U.S. Army team that tried to harness powers of the human brain to create a new kind of soldier.

They meet in Iraq, where Bob - a journalist for a Michigan newspaper - is trying to find a way into the action. That’s when he connects with Cassidy who, ultimately, tells Bob that he’s been reactivated and is on a mission. Before long the two have a car accident, are kidnapped by Iraqi criminals, escape (thanks to Cassidy’s quick thinking), save an Iraqi civilian, are saved by a team of clueless “contractors,” escape an absurd firefight, end up back in the desert, hit an IED, almost die in the desert, are picked up by the U.S. military - and end up back where Cassidy began … with some of his New Earth warriors.

We know about these guys because, as Bob and Cassidy have been making their way across the desert, director Grant Heslov has been giving us the backdrop on Cassidy’s Army career - his transfer to the New Earth group, his mentoring by a New Age soldier (Jeff Bridges), his development as a Jedi, the intrusion into the group by a bad egg (Kevin Spacey) and the ultimate breakup of everything.

By the time the reunion takes place, there’s not much left of the film. Or the story either. Which is the problem. “The Men Who Stare at Goats” is one of those films that follows a real story but adds the absurdity for entertainment value. And there’s a fair amount of entertainment in the film, especially as it’s played by Clooney - who has real comic talent - McGregor and Bridges.

But once the story comes to an end, there’s the old Peggy Lee question: Is that all there is?

Below: The trailer for “The Men Who Stare at Goats.”

There was a nice crowd at the Magic Lantern tonight to watch the German Oscar winner “The Lives of Others” and to listen to Gonzaga University professors Richard McClelland and Brian Clayton comment about the film’s characters. The event was part of the Professor Series, sponsored by the Spokane International Film Festival.

One thing that’s always bothered me about the movie is the transition of the main character (Ulrich Muhe) from a true-believing member of the Stasi, the German secret police, to a man willing to put his career on the line for a writer (Sebastian Koch) and the actress (Martina Gedeck) whom he loves.

My experience with true believers is that they don’t change their colors that easily. But listening to McClelland and Clayton, plus some of the comments in the audience, gave me another perspective.

A week from now, when I introduce “Shane,” I hope something similar happens.

This hasn’t been a great week of moviegoing. Not only have I still been fighting the effects of a bad cold, but the movies I’ve seen haven’t exactly put me in the greatest mood.

I wrote below of the Coen brothers’ “A Serious Man,” which I’m still scratching my head over. Then there was “Amelia,” a lame attempt by filmmaker Mira Nair to do for Amelia Earhart what Martin Scorsese did for Howard Hughes with “The Aviator.” Only she used a script that might have been written in 1940, edited it – and that’s being charitable – with no sense of continuity and cast Richard Gere (enough said).

Last night I went to AMC’s River Park Square Theatres to see “Lorna’s Silence,” the Belgian-made film about an Albanian woman who … well, she seems to lose her mind. That’s about all I could figure out about the film, other than the fact that she was in league with some low-level Albanian criminals, was in a marriage of convenience with a heroin addict and ends up having a phantom pregnancy.

“Lorna’s Silence” was a blend of hand-held-camera ultra realism and the worst kind of unexplained sudden plot twists outside of science fiction.

But maybe the problem wasn’t the film. I guess anything is possible in this era of mystery flus and artsy cinema.

Below: The trailer for “Amelia.”

In all the years that I have been watching Coen brothers movies, I have mostly enjoyed myself. And only seldom have I ever felt left out on the jokes. Until now.

Monday night I did a two-fer, beginning with “Amelia” – which the less said of the better – and ending with “A Serious Man.” And even after sleeping on it, I don’t know what to say about “A Serious Man.”

Watching this movie was like watching a foreign-language film with the subtitles turned off. From the beginning, with the curious little intro short about a Polish/Ukranian Jewish couple meeting what they think is a ghost, to the ending with a coming tornado and a suspect x-ray, I could never quite catch what the Coens were up to.

Maybe it’s because the film is so intrinsically Jewish. Maybe it’s because the Coen humor, in this case at least, is so determinedly obtuse. Maybe it’s because, in the end, the film was so darkly theological that I disassociated with everything but the most obvious humor.

I don’t know. And, a rare case with Coen films, I don’t really care.

Below: The trailer for “A Serious Man.”

Halloween is good to Michael Jackson. It was good during the “Thriller” days, and it’s good during this past weekend when the Jackson documentary “This Is It” captured the top spot in the box-office ratings.

I haven’t seen the film yet, having been down for the past several days with some aspect of the flu (no, not H1N1). Don’t know if I ever will see it either. I never was that big a Jackson fan.

And to tell the truth, the curiosity surrounding this film seems a slight bit morbid.

But then that’s fitting the Halloween theme of it all.

Below: Trailer for “This Is It.”

So, I’m sitting here watching the World Series – Derek Jeter just struck out on three Cliff Lee pitches – but I’m still reeling from the bit of channel surfing that I just did during the commercial break.

I hit TLCHD, which on my television is channel 669, and I saw the following title: “Obese and Pregnant.” Curious to fault, I had to search out more information. And here is the program description that I found:

“Examining the health issues facing three expectant mothers who are morbidly obese”

Did I mention that it was in HD?

Not saying that a show such as this wouldn’t have some educational value. I’m just pretty sure that the programers weren’t thinking of that when they scheduled it for broadcast. TLC, after all, is the channel that features the shows “I Didn’t Know I Was Pregnant” and “18 Kids and Counting.”

Just when I think TV can sink no lower in its attempt to lure a viewing audience, I get surprised. Every time.  What’s next? “My Kid Stuck a Pencil in His Eye” or “I Eat My Own Vomit”?

Sound like sure hits to me

Today is Julia Roberts’ birthday. Hard to believe, but the woman is 42. Seems like just yesterday she was the tough young Daisy Arujo, of “Mystic Pizza,” who poured a catch of fish in Adam Storke’s sports car.

Now she’s a middle-age mom, no longer the A-list queen she used to be. And even though she’s never been given credit by some for either her looks or her acting ability, Roberts has starred in several decent films over the years.

Here, then, is a list of my favorite Julia Roberts movies:

“Charlie Wilson’s War” (2007): It’s not easy playing an over-the-top diva with a blond wig and vague Texas accent. But Roberts, paired with Tom Hanks as the real-life Texas Congressman Wilson, pulls it off.

“Closer” (2004): Straight drama this, with Robert having to confront Clive Owen’s intimidating gravity. She proves more than capable, though the movie, ultimately, is a total downer.

“Ocean’s Eleven” (2001): Another turn with Soderbergh, this one making Roberts a minor – if important – part of the ensemble. But she brings the right amount of grace to counteract George Clooney’s wackiness.

“Erin Brockovich” (2000): Finally, Roberts gets a role she can play with all her tools – the offbeat beauty, the hard edge, the vulnerability, the street smarts. Used well by Steven Soderbergh, Roberts walked off with the Oscar.

“Notting Hill” (1999): And speaking of pairing, matching Roberts with Hugh Grant is perfect. Roberts brings the right sense of gravity – she’s tough, hard, mistrusting, a lot like an adult Daisy Arujo – to counter Grant’s lightness. And his friends help out, too.

“My Best Friend’s Wedding” (1997): Without the charm of Rupert Everett, this little bit of comic fluff might have wafted away without much trace. But Roberts and Everett together make a comic, if unlikely, romantic duo.

“The Pelican Brief” (1993): Even a John Grisham novel proved to be a perfect vehicle for Roberts, who was still caught in the action-oriented phase of her career. Here she connects, almost, with Denzel Washington.

“Sleeping with the Enemy” (1991): Nothing like a woman-in-danger flick to arouse compassion. Married to the seemingly perfect Martin (Patrick Bergin), who is really a possessive abuser, Roberts’ Laura escapes by faking her death. But forging a new life isn’t easy, and Martin won’t give up.

“Pretty Woman” (1990): I’m still amazed that this film, about a prostitute and a jerk of a rich businessman (played pitch perfect by Richard Gere), became such a popular love story. I credit Roberts’ charm, which even then the camera loved.

“Mystic Pizza” (1988): Exotic and tough is how I would describe Roberts’ portrayal of Daisy Arujo, the working-class young woman who falls for the rich guy (Adam Storke) and shows him that charm and money won’t get you everything.

Below: Scenes fron “Pretty Woman.”

I wasn’t sure what to expect from Chan-wook Park’s film “Thirst,” which I saw last night at the Magic Lantern. But after seeing his 2003 film “Old Boy,” which the Korean filmmaker wrote and directed, I should have expected something … strange.

And something strange is what Park gives us with this new film, which is a cross between “Twilight,” “The Thorn Birds” and “The Postman Always Rings Twice.”

Yeah, it’s that bizarre.

“Thirst” follows the trek of Catholic priest Sang-Hyeon (Kang-ho Song) who, after volunteering for a risky medical experiment, seems to die. Only when he returns home, while attempting to pick up his ordinary life, discovers that he has become a … vampire.

Yeah, the man who dispenses wine and wafers with the notion that they are the blood and body of Christ has now become a blood-sucker. Along with that strange evolution, he is now questioning his faith.

Which is when he becomes involved with Tae-joo (Ok-bin Kim), a troubled girl living slave-like with her half-wit husband and his controlling mother. Pretty soon the two of them are doing the nasty, he has left the church, she is convincing him to kill her husband, she has become a vampire, too, and the killing spree has begun in earnest.

All of this should be enough. But Park specializes in giving us images that are as absurd as they are memorable. The priest sucking blood from the body of a comatose man, for example. Or the priest and his lover jumping high over the roofs of Seoul. Or the two of them making love – “Thirst” is graphically sexy – with the now-dead, thoroughly drowned husband stuck between them.

“Pay no attention,” the now-ex-priest says, “It’s just psychological”

Really? Ultimately, “Thirst” is just too weird for its own good. The mix of troubled romance, religious questioning, vampire flick and classic noir feels too disjointed for the slim story line that Park sets behind it.

But if you want to see something new, which gets harder and harder to do in this era of making the same films over and over, this movie is it.

Treat it like, hmm, communion?

Below: The trailer for “Thirst.”

Is it possible that the horror-film audience is finally finding a bit of discretion? Are horror junkies turning away from Hollywood’s version of fright-night thrills and discovering new ways of experiencing those backbone shivers?

Not likely. We’re all suckers for things that go clump in the night, especially when they involve the chance of gore and maybe a bit of skin. And Hollywood isn’t going to give up its use/overuse of special effects anytime soon – good news to anyone who likes the occasional exploding auto.

Still, it was good news to hear that the latest “Saw” offering, “Saw XXVIII” – just kidding, it’s actually “Saw XXVII” – fared poorly at the box office this past weekend while the new film on the block, “Paranormal Activity,” did appreciably better.

According to Boxofficemojo.com, playing on some 2,500 screens at 1,945 sites, grossed $22 million – “Paranormal Activity” upped its 31-day total to about $62.5 million. “Saw,” in its sixth variation, did just $14.8 million at some 4,000 screens at 3,036 sites.

Time for Hollywood to begin the franchise all over again, the way it has with “Halloween” and, soon, “Friday the 13th.”

Not that “Paranormal Activity” is the “Citizen Kane” of neo-horror. It’s not even particularly new. It uses the same mock-documentary conceit that “The Blair Witch Project” exploited in 1999, which allows director Oren Peli to appeal to a viewing audience already trained to accept reality-TV fare.

But, hey, I was scared. If only Peli had included an exploding car or two, his film would be perfect.

Below: The trailer for “Saw VI.”

I listed some of my favorite French films yesterday. And, you know, I didn’t toss my bouillabaisse. Amazing.

It even got a bit of reaction. Pete Porter, director of the Spokane International Film Festival, asked – in honor of SpIFF’s ongoing Professor’s Series – that I do the same thing for German films.

That’s because the next film in the series is “The Lives of Others,” directed by Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck and winner of the 2007 Oscar for Best Foreign Language film. It will be presented by Brian Clayton and Richard McClelland, professors in Gonzaga University’s philosophy department.

Anyway, here are some German films that I would watch more than once. In some cases, I definitely have.

“Das Boot” (1981, Wolfgang Petersen): I remember when I first read Lothar Buchheim’s 1973 novel, from which Petersen adapted his movie. After all these years, I thought, what new could anyone say about World War II submarines? The book, as well as the movie, surprised me. Both are antidotes to the us-versus-them mood of most WWI movies. The characters aren’t Nazis, not purveyors of evil, but mere sailors fighting for their country against impossible odds. And Petersen’s camera, moving from scenes of off-duty celebration to white-knuckle action, never lets us forget that, but for the whims of fate, they could be us.

“Run Lola Run” (1998, dir. by Tom Tykwer): One of the most adrenaline-charged films ever made, Tykwer’s movie is a look at how even the most innocent decision can affect our future. Not once, not twice but three times Tykwer takes us through what should be nothing more than a simple drug deal. But because – well, stuff happens, you know? – his film becomes literally a question of life and death. Franka Potente (“The Bourne Identity”) plays the title character, a charming loser who, ultimately, finds what she needs to set her life on the right track.

“Downfall” (2004, dir. by Oliver Hirschbiegel): You might not want to spend time in Hitler’s bunker as the final hours of the Third Reich count down. Before watching “Downfall,” I didn’t either. If WWII submarine duty offers little chance for surprises, then what new can be said about Hitler (who is the subject of seemingly every other History Channel program)? Told through the eyes of Hitler’s secretary, Traudi Junge (from her book), we see it all take place – the inexorable fall, Hitler’s tantrums, the preparation for death by the Goebbels family, etc. Bruno Ganz brings something new to his interpretation of Hitler, no mean thing, and Hirschbiegel proves something else: There are no old stories that can’t be seen in a new and interesting way.

“M” (1931, Fritz Lang): “M” stands for murderer, and it’s the brand that Hans Beckett (Peter Lorre) wears, if only symbolically. He’s a child murderer, and as portrayed by the young Lorre (26 at the time) a particularly pathetic one. Long before he gained fame in Hollywood as a director of film noir (“The Big Heat,” “While the City Sleeps”), Lang had been one of Germany’s top filmmakers. Roger Ebert sees “M” as Lang’s indictment of a country that was even then being overrun by Nazis. Whatever the truth of that, “M” stands as a haunting study all its own.

“Wings of Desire” (1987, dir. by Wim Wenders): Wenders and Werner Herzog are two of the names most associated with contemporary German cinema – and have been for more than three decades. Both have had international careers, from Wenders’ “Paris, Texas” to Herzog’s documentary “Grizzly Man,” but nothing either of them has done has been any better than this haunting tale of angels. Bruno Ganz stars as one angel who wants to forsake everything just to experience life as a human. He gives up a lot, but he gains … everything.

“Europa, Europa” (1990, dir. by Agnieszka Holland): Irony has many faces. But the real-life story of Solomon Perel gives irony a whole new meaning. The son of a Jewish shopkeeper, Perel (Marco Hofschneider) survived WWII by posing as a Nazi. Through his indoctrination of a Communist youth to his training as a Nazi youth and beyond, Perel survived from 1938 to 1945 by masking his Jewishness. His most obvious physical weakness: his circumcised penis, which he disguised courtesy of a rubber band. In Holland’s hands, Perel’s story might have been pulled out of a Jerzy Kozinski novel. Only difference: Perel’s story was real.

“Metropolis” (1927, dir. by Fritz Lang): Has there ever been a more influential, and caricatured, movie than Lang’s “Metropolis”? Whether seen in its original back and white or in the various colorized versions, the film’s imagery usually overpowers its silent-film narrative. In fact, I’ve seen the film at least three times and yet I had to check IMDB.com to remember the plot. It has something to do with a separated society, the rich and those who support them, but the film’s importance involve those visuals, which have influenced virtually every sci-fi filmmaker over the past 82 years.

“Triumph of the Will” (1935, dir. by Leni Riefenstahl): Speaking of the battle between imagery and story line, that pretty much sums up the career of Leni Reifenshahl. Usually portrayed as Hitler’s pet filmmaker, Reifenstahl made the might of Nazism look glorious. But no matter how much the meaning of that might seems grotesque, the images were – and remain – magnificent. If ever there was art that served evil, this was it. But art it is.

“Nosferatu” (1922, dir. by F.W. Murnau): Another mightily influential film, this vampire flick – based on, if not credited to, Bram Stoker’s novel “Dracula” – is the granddaddy of all blood-sucker movies. It avoids most of the easy scares of today’s films (even those in such low-budget productions as “Paranormal Activity”), but its images retain their haunting edge. That’s partly because of the zombie-like presence of actor Max Schreck, partly because of how Murnau uses him. Either way, “Nosferatu” showed Hollywood just what a golden egg the vampire film could be.

“Aguirre, Wrath of God” (1972, dir. by Werner Herzog): Last but not least, the one and only Herzog. On the basis of such films as “The Mystery of Kasper Hauser” and “Fitzcarraldo,” his remake of “Nosferatu” and the inexplicable “Even Dwarfs Started Small,” through his more contemporary English-language efforts such as “Grizzly Man” and “Rescue Dawn,” Herzog’s works are strange, bizarre, often confounding but never anything but watchable. That’s especially true for this look at the Spanish explorer Aguirre (Klaus Kinski) and his search for the fabled gold city of El Dorado. Herzog’s film is nothing less than a descent into madness, a trek that Herzog seems obsessed with. No one, though, captures such a descent better.

Volksmarsch, lebensraum und zeitgeist!

Below: The trailer for “Run Lola Run.”

It was interesting to see as many as, oh, 50 people show up at the Magic Lantern Wednesday night to see Leonard Oakland introduce one of his favorite films, Francois Truffaut’s 1962 exploration of romance, “Jules et JIm.”

It’s always great to hear Oakland talk about cinema, particularly when that cinema is French. I’ve never been especially moved by “Jules et Jim” (I prefer Truffaut’s first feature film, “400 Blows”). But Oakland’s knowledge and passion could get me interested in, say, hedge fund derivatives.

And his post-screening talk got me to thinking. Though I often pretend otherwise, I do love French film. The best of French film, that is (if I even begin to consider the worst, I start to burp up my morning croissant).

Here, then, are 10 of my favorite French films, presented in no special order:

“Les enfants du Paradis” (1945, dir. by Marcel Carné): Shot while World War II was still raging, it’s a wonder that Carné’s film got made at all. That it is such a masterpiece is even more of a miracle. Set in 1828, it involves a set of characters, especially the theater mime Baptiste and the actress/kept woman Garance, whose love — while perhaps enduring — is complicated by connivers, their own weaknesses and the whim of fate itself. As a friend of mine once said, “This is great art.”

“Jean de Florette”/”Manon of the Spring” (1986, dir. by Claude Berri): Taken together, and that’s how they have to be seen, these two films amount to a nearly four-hour-long adaptation of Marcel Pagnol’s novel. All the great passions are here, from greed and ambition to love and betrayal, imbued by the talents of Gerard Depardieu, Yves Montand, Daniel Auteuil and Emmanuelle Béart.

“La belle et la bȇte” (1946, dir. by Jean Cocteau): Cocteau, who also directed the 1950 film “Orphée,” has given us a couple of fantasy films, based on myth, that are as atmospheric as anything ever made. Shot in black and white, and utilizing effects that were at the time groundbreaking, both films are virtual visual treasures.

“La vie en rose” (2007, dir by Olivier Dahan): Marion Cotillard won a Best Actress Oscar for portraying French songbird Edith Piaf. Told in a way that is both realistic and expressionistic, Dahan’s film becomes more than a mere biopic. And that, largely, is due to Cotillard’s terrific lip-sync performance.

“Trois Couleurs: Bleu” (1993, dir. by Krzysztof Kieslowski): The late Polish filmmaker Kieslowski directed a trio of film that took their names from the French tricolor flag (blue, white, red). Taken together, they show a view of contemporary French life. My favorite, though, is the first, “Bleu,” in which Juliette Binoche plays a woman recovering from the kind of loss that would bring anyone to his knees.

“Cyrano de Bergerac” (1990, dir. by Jean-Paul Rappeneau): I never connected with Edmond Rostand’s play, which has been told so many times and in so many different ways (Steve Martin in “Roxanne”?) that it’s hard to keep count. But there’s always something about Gerard Depardieu worth watching, and here he provides the emotion that turns his portrayal of Cyrano into actual art.

“La Haine” (1995, dir. by Mathieu Kassovitz): Back in 1995, many of us were ignorant of the effects that immigration was having on France, particularly on Paris. Since then, many films have depicted the violence that has caused the French as many problems as it has anywhere else. The story here involves a street kid hospitalized after being beaten, a French’s cop’s lost pistol and another street kid who vows revenge.

“Irréversible” (2002, dir. by Gasper Noé): Told more or less in reverse, this nasty story of a woman’s brutal rape and its violent aftermath is like nothing else you’ve seen. And Noé’s conceit begins with a horrible murder and ends with the soft glow of a woman in love. The film is savage and subversive all at once, which means that if nothing else it’s bound to get audiences talking.

“Queen Margot” (1994, dir. by Patrice Chéreau): Not many of us know much about French history. And it would help to know that on the night of Aug. 24, 1572, raging Catholics mobs murdered Protestants in what would become knows as the Massacre of St. Bartholomew. Estimates of Protestant deaths range from 2,000 to as many as 30,000. More than a historical drama, though, “Queen Margot” is a romance — though my favorite character is Henri de Navarre (late King Henry IV), played by the always great Daniel Auteuil.

“The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie” (1972, dir. by Luis Bunuel): I was at a screening of this Bunuel film in Los Angeles, and the Spanish master attended. Bunuel, who spent many years as an exile working in Mexico and France, was then 72 and had already enjoyed a long and fruitful career. But his talent was still there, evidenced by this nasty indictment of middle-class preoccupations — in this case the ongoing attempts of six people to have dinner. Not sure how well the film holds up, and it’s hardly my favorite Bunuel film (I prefer “Los Olvidados,” 1950), but it felt just right for the political era in which it was released.

Cherchez la femme, cordon bleu et cul-de-sac!

Below: The trailer for “Children of Paradise.

Looks as if the coming week should work a bit better for lovers of all things cinema, from the gore freaks to the Francophiles … not to mention vampire fans.

Here’s what’s on the schedule:

“Amelia”: Still unsure of what exactly to do with Hilary Swank, even with her two Best Actress Oscars, Hollywood has dyed her hair, given her a Katharine Hepburn clipped accent and cast her as the doomed aviatrix Amelia Earhart. The good news: The film was directed by India-born filmmaker Mira Nair (“Monsoon Wedding”) and cowritten by Ronald Bass (“Snow Falling on Cedars”) and Anna Hamilton Phelan (“Girl, Interrupted”).

“Cirque du Freak: The Vampire’s Assistant”: Based on the novels of Irish writer Darren Shan, this Paul Weitz (“American Pie”) film was written by Brian Helgeland (“Mystic River”). It’s all about a kid who agrees to become a vampire, a good-natured one that is, who goes on the road with a circus troupe and ends up battling a band of rogue blood-suckers.

“Saw VI”: At this late date, do you really need a plot synopsis?

“The Boys Are Back”: Clive Owen plays an Australian sportswriter who, following the death of his wife, finds himself raising two boys. Scott Hicks (“Shine”) adapted Simon Carr’s novel.

“Astro Boy”: Based on the old television series, this animated film uses CG effects to enliven the adventures of a robot who, whatever he does, can’t replace the real boy his creator lost.

“Lorna’s Silence”: The Belgian-brother filmmaking duo, Jean-Pierre and Luc Dardenne (“La promesse,” “L’enfant”), return with this story about Albanian immigrants who use a drug dealer to achieve their dream of owning their own business.

And over at the Magic Lantern:

“Thirst”: Chan-wook Park, the Korean director of such films as “Old Boy” and “Lady Vengeance,” gives us this film about a man who, following a failed medical experiment, becomes – you guessed it! – a vampire!

Also:

“This Is It”: Beginning at 9 p.m. Tuesday, this cobbled-together collection of videos will feature the late Michael Jackson as he prepared for his London series of shows. Jackson fans should love it, at least.

Happy viewing.

Below: The trailer for “Thirst.

Other than the two major releases, both of which played in Spokane theaters, the week’s top DVDs may be documentaries. Other than the vampire flick, of course.

These are all out on Tuesday.

“Cheri”: Michelle Pfeiffer stars as an aging courtesan who, against her better judgment and the wishes of her friends, falls in love with her friend’s son (Rupert Friend).

“Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen”: Michael Bay, thinking he is making “Citizen Kane” instead of following up a movie based on children’s toys, makes about every mistake an arrogant A-list director can. This just about makes you forget how good the 2007 original.

“Blood: The Last Vampire”: Based on the popular anime series, this live-action film is a kind of “Buffy the Vampire Slayer”-type story about a centuries-old woman warrior who targets vampires. Available in Blu-ray.

“Capturing Reality: The Art of the Documentary”: A blend of interviews with 38 filmmakers and clips from 163 different documentary films, this nonfiction film is a study of what goes into the documentary form.

“The Elephant King”: Clutchy mama (Ellen Burstyn) sends young son off to Thailand to retrieve older bro, but the boy succumbs to obvious tropical charms.

“I Am Because We Are”: Madonna produced, wrote and narrates this documentary about African children suffering from the AIDS epidemic.

“Moon in the Gutter”: If the fact that this 1983 re-release is French doesn’t turn you off, the fact that it was directed by the same guy responsible for “Betty Blue” might. Or the fact that it stars Gerard Depardieu as a guy looking for the rapist of his girlfriend, dead from suicide.

“That Was the GDR”: History-minded film fans might get into this four-part look at the history of the German Democratic Republic, 1949-90.

“They Killed Sister Dorothy”: Another documentary, this one tells the story of the murder of Dorothy Stang, a 73-year-old nun from Ohio, who was shot to death near the mouth of the Amazon River.

“Wings of Desire”: German filmmaker Wim Wenders’ atmospheric 1983 film, about an angel (Bruno Ganz) who wants to become human, is being re-released in a new high-def edition. Also available in Blu-ray.

“You Must Remember This: The Warner Bros. Story”: Film fans tuned into Hollywood history might enjoy this documentary about the studio that earned early success by riding aboard the tail of a dog named Rin Tin Tin.

Happy viewing.

Maurice Sendak is one of those names that is synonymous with children’s literature. Along with books that he has written and illustrated, such as “Where the Wild Things Are” (1963) and “In the Night Kitchen” (1970), he has illustrated dozens of others.

“Where the Wild Things Are,” a book that has been credited with changing the rules for contemporary children’s literature, is in the news because of the new movie adaptation directed by Spike Jonze (cowritten with Dave Eggers).

And the first thing you might ask is, how does Jonze make a 48-page, 10-sentence children’s book into a 94-minute feature film?

The answer: He does it by keying on Sendak’s main message, which is that life for most children is tough, full of emotional ups and downs and hard to make sense of, and that escape to an inner landscape can provide a necessary solace – if only a temporary one.

In the case of the movie’s protagonist, a boy named Max (Max Records), lives with his mother (Catherine Keener) and big sister (Pepita Emmerichs). He’s a child of divorce, which means that emotional sustenance is rare for everyone – not for mom, who is having professional problems; not for sis, who resents having to visit dad and who has no time for baby brother; and not for Max, who spends time alone making igloos, chastising imaginary foes and making life hell for his poor mother.

So after throwing a tantrum, and causing mom to react in anger, Max runs off into the night. And the next thing you know he’s sailing away in a boat, to an island filled with wild animals (thanks to the Henson Company puppet makers) who, after debating whether to eat him, make him their king.

And life in the paradise (filmed in a picturesque part of Australia) is good, everything Max wants. His new friends accept him, they give him the attention he craves, they accept him as their leader and his presence makes a difference. At first.

Because the monsters, all being creations of Max’s mind, have the emotional makeup of children. They’re a mixed lot, looking for Max to provide them the direction that children need from adults.

Some of them are negative (especially Judith, voiced by Catherine O’Hara), some are indecisive (especially Douglas, voiced by Chris Cooper), some want to seek out new friends (especially KW, voiced by Lauren Ambrose), and some of them have anger issues (especially Carol, voiced by James Gandolfini).

So, ultimately, it comes as no surprise when things go wrong. And Max ends up being blamed. What then? Where does “Where the Wild Things Are” go next?

Those who have read Sendak’s book won’t be surprised. They might be surprised, though, at how well Jonze handles getting there.

In any event, anyone who can remember what it was like being a child, and can still recognize the same emotions when they come bubbling up, will connect with Jonze’s film. Jonze may not reveal any secrets, nor tell us where to go next.

But like Sendak before him, he knows how to show us where we’ve been.

OK, we’re back home. I’ve walked through the entire house with a flashlight, checking for … anything unnatural.

And other than our stuffed cat Pooky, who loves dressing up in MP’s underwear, I can find nothing particularly strange. So I guess we’re safe.

For the moment anyway.

What put me in this paranoid mood? “Paranormal Activity,” of course. We attended the 6:50 p.m. showing of the neo-horror movie, along with several dozen other film fans, and we’re still feeling the full level of the film’s creepiness.

Never heard of the movie? Well, it’s a Slamdance special, directed by a virtually unknown filmmaker named Oren Peli, that uses the same methods created by Daniel Myrick and Eduardo Sanchez for the 1999 shocker “The Blair Witch Project.”

Myrick and Sanchez used a mock-documentary style to tell the purported story of a film crew that gets lost in the woods, only to disappear. The footage, found later, tells some of the story … but not all. And it’s what the footage doesn’t tell, what the shots don’t show, that creates the horror.

Same with “Paranormal Activity.” This time the protagonists are Katie (Katie Featherston) and Micah (Micah Sloat), a loving couple in what appears to be their mid-to-late-20s. They live together in a San Diego suburban house, he working as a day trader, she studying to be a schoolteacher.

Everything about their life is ordinary – except for the nagging fact that, since she was 8 years old, Katie has been bothered by some sort of entity. That same entitiy, she believes, burned her parents’ house down when she was 13. And it continues to follow her now that she’s living with Micah.

Micah, though, is both a guy and a man. As a guy, he’s a natural joker, before and behind his video camera. As a man, he’s protective of his girlfriend and dismissive of her fears. As both, he’s massively over his head.

Because as he continues to film their day-to-day existence, both challenging and confronting an unseen entity, his camera begins to pick up weird happenings. Noises in the night, shadows on the wall, doors that move on their own, sheets that blow in a windless room all precide Katie’s slow disintegration and Micah’s slow realization that something is terribly wrong. And that he’s powerless to do anything about it.

All the “Blair Witch Project” stylisms are there: mock-documentary style, low-tech special effects, unknown actors (even the third actor, Mark Fredrichs, who plays a psychic), off-camera villainous creatures, the gradual rise in tension and a shocker of an ending.

But “Paranormal Activity” isn’t merely a ripoff of “Blair Witch.” It’s complementary, sure, and it mines the same cinematic style. But Peli’s film boasts a chilling sense that is all its own, one that is an enduring mote in Hollywood’s EFX-loving eye.

Made for a reported $11,000, “Paranormal Activity” shows just how good a film can be when imagination trumps technology. I’m so glad that we decided to …

Excuse me. I just heard something go bump in the bedroom. Now, where the hell did I leave that flashlight?

Looking forward to seeing “Paranormal Activity” tonight. One local reviewer said the movie wasn’t scary so much as “creepy.” I’m not sure that’ll make it any easier to sleep tonight, though.