Wicked 'Step Brothers' and 'The Wackness'

It has been a pretty funny week at the movies, and fun when it wasn't.

I'm sure that by 6 a.m. this morning someone somewhere canceled my temporary bragging rights of having seen The Dark Knight twice. Those sold-out midnight shows were backed up with 3 a.m. and 6 a.m. screenings in some markets (not ours that I'm aware of, but enlighten me, please).

It's nice to see such fervor for an excellent movie, as opposed to the similar rushes for Pirates 3: Dead Man's Chest and Spider-man 3. I'm hoping TDK takes away Spidey's opening weekend record of $151-million, just to again prove art, commerce and mainstream moviegoers truly can co-exist.

Those two TDK screenings were followed by three others. You can read about Pineapple Express elsewhere on this blog.

The stoner humor in PE plus the stoner dramedy of this morning's show, The Wackness, means Princess Di should've stashed more potato chips and Fruit Roll-Ups for me while she's in Fort Myers fishing with her girlfriends (at least, that's the story she tells me). This is the first week I've ever gotten cotton-mouth from sitting in theaters.

The Wackness features three terrific performances by Ben Kingsley (of course), Olivia Thirlby (which I might have guessed after Juno) and Josh Peck (who woulda thunk it, except Daly since he watches Nickelodeon).

Peck plays a just-graduated teen in 1994 Manhattan who supports his struggling, argumentative family by selling pot out of an ice cream cart. One of the best customers is his shrink (Kingsley), an old hippie with his own family problems. Thirlby his the doc's stepdaughter, whom Peck crushes on and she appreciates the gesture.

Writer-director Jonathan Levine re-creates Guliani-era New York with great skill and a dynamite soundtrack spotlighting Notorious B.I.G. and A Tribe Called Quest for Peck's character, and David Bowie and Donovan for Kingsley's. The movie drags a bit in the second half but has a Garden State/The Graduate coming-of-age vibe that I enjoyed. The Wackness opens Aug. 1, and it's mostly dopeness.

Will Ferrell and John C. Reilly could use some the mind-altering substances used in The Wackness because those boys just ain't right in their heads. Their second collaboration after Talladega Nights, Step Brothers, confirms they're two peas in the same twisted pod.

Step Brothers is a one-joke comedy that somehow sustains itself for almost two hours. Ferrell and Reilly play 40-year-olds still living with their respective single parents, forced to co-exist when the parents (Mary Steenburgen, Richard Jenkins) get hitched. Not many comedians could carry off acting like spoiled 12-year-olds, and these guys almost don't.

When the angle starts getting stale, Ferrell and Reilly are capable of saying or doing anything obscene to hold your attention. Step Brothers opens July 25.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to get ready to tape something for the 11 p.m. news on Ch. 10 regarding the Dark Knight phenomenon occurring. Then I'm hightailing it to New Port Richey to meet T-Bone, who invited me to help park cars at the 30th reunion of a Gulf High class that graduated four years after me.

Not a hard job; we're sitting in a golf cart for an hour or two, drinking beer and waving at cars. Then we'll hit the party inside, at the riverfront home of a guy who was an usher at my first wedding, something that neither of us bring up anymore. Nice warmup for Saturday night's Rays game at the Trop, followed by an M.C. Hammer concert, then Sunday by an Ybor City shindig at Columbia Restaurant for a local film production I'll tell you about later.

You know, you really can't touch this.

48 Hour Film Project returns

This weekend, dozens of Tampa Bay's ambitious filmmakers -- and you know who you are -- will partake in a terrific creativity exercise, and maybe jump-start a career or two.

The 48 Hour Film Project is a national contest allowing teams of filmmakers to create a short film in randomly selected categories... with a 48-hour deadline. I wrote about the marathon endeavor and some of the participants last year. Some excerpts from the news release:

"Before the contest begins, each team will get a character, a prop, a line of dialogue and a genre, all to include in their movie. The winning team will be invited to attend the Filmapalooza Awards weekend, held in March (in a city to be announced) and will go on to participate in the second round competition. The contest concludes with a big-screen debut at Channelside Cinemas (on Wednesday, July 23)

"Teams will meet at Limey’s Pub, 1492 4th Street N. in St. Petersburg, before the 48 Hour Film Project begins. Filmmakers will then hit the streets of Tampa Bay to begin filming."

Fun time, fun people, and a fascinating endurance test. Check out my story from last year for a taste.

Dewayne Staats is a very funny guy

Sorry, I confused the Tampa Bay Rays broadcaster with Rainn Wilson, who I had planned to see tonight in The Rocker, which looks like This is Spinal Tap crossed with School of Rock and Dwight Shrute's deadpan dumb.

A few funny things happened on the way to walking out of the theater.

I'm home watching the Rays leading the Dead Sox now, which is where I'd prefer to be. If The Rocker were opening soon, and if the p.r. guy hadn't told me there will be plenty of screenings between now and whenever it does, I'd still be in the theater now instead of hearing Staats' rimshot humor.

(Big thanks to Worth1000.com for the image from Yahoo)

The theater tonight was in a different place that isn't used to hosting advance screenings. I should've known better when the usual studio monitor for such screenings dished it off to someone else.

He and his helpers honestly did a fine job -- and regular readers know that I don't mind complaining when they don't -- but something just told me that watching the Rays would be a better use of my time. Then I told Princess Di and she, of course, agreed. I like that in a wife.

Anyway, we were convinced when latecomers wondering why some seats were reserved for, oh, media types, screening sponsors, you know, the folks who are the reason why anyone is getting a free movie. I've said as much at screenings before but tonight it would've felt like kicking a puppy.

Nice folks, I'm sure. And maybe it's the fact that Di and I were the only two people in a prime section of seats roped off for 40 or so rumps that made me a bit self-conscious.

After listening to people scared of walking into a packed theater, and pronouncing "reserved" phonetically from signs, and loudly announcing after a cell phone call that the folks they're saving seats for are still at Home Depot, and watching people leave because they were only there for the t-shirts they didn't get, and the baby toted to an R-rated comedy, and the eyeballs aimed at those 38 or so vacant seats, plus a few more tips, I figured we'd catch The Rocker another time.

Besides, I have a paranormal investigation at my favorite dive bar tomorrow night until Dunkin Donuts baking time Thursday. I need my rest.

Does this mean no Cop and a Half 2?

You probably heard that a bunch of new laws went into effect today: motorcycle safety courses for license applicants, higher parking ticket fines, the one declaring Fridays as wet t-shirt optional work days.

I made up that last one.

Anyway, one I'm writing about is the cutbacks in Florida's incentive program that helps to entice film, TV and commercial production in the Sunshine State. Last year's kitty of $25-million were divided among such productions as Marley and Me starring Jennifer Aniston, the USA network series Burn Notice, the comedy Misconceptions filmed in Pinellas County, etc.

Now that fund has been slashed to $5-million for the 2008-2009 fiscal calendar. Suddenly Florida won't seem like such an attractive location for productions that can go elsewhere -- Georgia and Louisiana are growing players -- and save more money.

Don't think that the state film office is just handing out free money. Productions earn rebates of up to 22 percent for their in-state spending; hiring local talent before and behind the cameras, taking rooms at hotels, eating at restaurants, etc.  St. Petersburg/Clearwater film commissioner Jennifer Parramore says the paperwork proves that whatever the fund rebates is earned back by Floridians at a 7-to-1 ratio.

So, last year's $25-million incentives fund put $175-million into Floridians' pockets. That's a lot of income to lose in these tough times.

The cut in funding is due to the same reasons why you're probably not spending as much these days. Thanks to Florida's balanced budget requirements, such cuts have been necessary nearly from top to bottom. But that also means that if/when the economy bounces back, the film/TV subsidies program should quickly bounce back with it.

At least that's what the state film commissioner and Gov. Charlie Crist's deputy press secretary told me. I'll let you know when the story's ready for publication online and in the Times.

EW's 100 movie classics of the past 25 years

All morning long, my nose has been buried in Entertainment Weekly's new issue, the magazine's 1,000th in a consistently fine history. Pretty impressive streak, there.

The issue is chiefly dedicated to listing the "new classics" of the past 25 years in music, television, books and, of course, movies.

*** 8 p.m. update ***

I'm still looking for The Big Lebowski, and the numbskull(s) who left it of the list. How can a movie that created a legitimate cult following be neglected while Crumb is Mo. 14 and Rushmore (RUSHMORE!!) is 22, right behind Schindler's List?

On second thought, ignore this list.

Can't argue with Pulp Fiction at No. 1 ("opened a new universe of mainstream storytelling... recast the future of movies by living so thrillingly, in the moment"). But it doesn't take long to reach one that will ruffle some fathers: Titanic at No. 3.

But debate is what such lists are all about. Scan through the photo gallery of Nos. 1 through 100 (South Park: Bigger, Longer & Uncut) and let's discuss what EW got right, or horribly wrong.

[AP photo]

Local producer swings The Hammer

Had an interesting conversation with Gregory Firestone, a Tampa clinical psychologist credited as an executive producer for The Hammer, starring Adam Carolla as a boxer taking one last chance at ring glory and love.

Firestone did it for family pride -- his second cousins are the film's director and co-producer -- and also because his minor investment in 2001's Kissing Jessica Stein was successful and fun. being an executive producer means he helped secure financing for the $1-million project, primarily from his Harbor Island tennis pals.

Because of the local connections, two screenings of The Hammer are scheduled Friday at 8 and 10 p.m. at Muvico Centro Ybor 20. Tickets are $10, with proceeds benefiting the Tampa Bay chapter of the American Red Cross. Co-star Jeff Lacy, a former IBF champ from St. Petersburg, will host the events.

"It’s exciting that you have a chance to see earlier versions before it first appears in a theater," he said. "It’s interesting to see it take shape in terms of what gets cut out, or what expands; what gets re-shot and what gets added into it.

"What’s most impressive is when you see people working on an indie film, you don’t have the luxury to shoot the same scene over and over. You try to shoot once, twice max, to keep expenses to a minimum. Then to see the quality product that comes out at the end is really quite impressive."

However, even though it's a fine, funny movie, The Hammer only had a few dozen theater engagements along the West Coast where Carolla's radio show is popular. A DVD release is set for June 24.

Firestone couldn't venture a guess about why The Hammer never really answered the bell. "I don’t know if I understand enough of that business to offer and explanation," he said. "There are a lot of films that are made, and people in the position to distribute movies are in the position to pick what they want.

"But it is a challenge. Film distribution can be more expensive than making the film. You need to find somebody with deep pockets. If we had found somebody like that, obviously we would’ve had a bigger release than we did. You have to put a lot of money into promoting a movie, to get any attention."

(Bloodstained) Ladies of the Night

Maybe it isn't your cup of entrails tea but there's a FREE double feature of locally produced horror flicks Saturday night at the University of South Florida's Tampa campus. Rick Danford of Enigma Films, in association with the university's film and video club and Hocus Pocus Productions are footing the bill.

The shows start at 6 p.m. with Alarum, starring local actor and model Krista Grotte, who I think I ogled at a previous splatter flick festival. She has, ummm, talent. Krista plays a woman besieged by mental illness after a lifetime of sexual abuse. It's a good bet that somebody's gonna pay dearly for that.

Around 8 p.m., you can see Savaged starring Debbie Rochon -- who has 151 horror film credits, according to IMDb -- as a woman hiding from her ex-boyfriend, and whose dog becomes fiercely protective of her.  There's a killer bear in the woods and a possible psycho on her tail, so expect things to get messy.

Rochon (pictured at right with Dee Snider)will attend and conduct a Q&A session after the movie. The evening also includes a number of preview trailers for upcoming (and unbecoming) gore productions including The Black Devil Doll. Not sure what that is but "he'll" be appearing to present an adults-only scene from the movie.

Folks, when these amiable maniacs take time to tell you something is "adults only," I'd take them seriously.

Get all the information you need here.

Adam Carolla nails The Hammer

If you're like me, you only know Adam Carolla from his overtly sexist humor alongside Jimmy Kimmel on The Man Show, or his irreverent approach to Terpsicorian (is that a word?) talent on Dancing with the Stars.

If so, you'd be a surprised as I was by his performance in The Hammer, an independently produced romantic comedy/boxing movie that somehow doesn't have any distributor with enough faith in a wider release. Carolla came up with the story idea based on his experiences as boxer, and for an old dude he still has skillz. Carolla was also a carpenter, which makes his character Jerry Ferro a dual-pronged example of role intimacy paying off.

Jerry gets fired from a job he didn't like anyway, working off his aggressions at a boxing gym. He gets taunted by a title contender (St. Petersburg's former IBF champ Jeff Lacy) and responds with a knockout left hook. A trainer putting together the U.S. Olympic Team sees it and convinces Jerry that at age 40 he can finally be a contender, if he'll work hard enough.

"You're just one of those 95-percenters who never gives everything he's got," the trainer tells Jerry.

"No, I'm a 75-percenter but I'm giving you and extra 20 percent," Jerry replies, with Carolla's knack for dribbling sarcasm from the corner of his mouth like beer foam.

Jerry falls in love, faces his challenges and becomes one of the most endearing lugs I've seen on screen in a while.  The Hammer should be in every megaplex but without a distribution deal (it got some play in L.A. and other western states where Carolla has a radio following) it looks like home video will be your best chance.

That is, unless you visit Muvico Centro Ybor 20 this Friday, June 6. The Hammer will be shown twice at 8 and 10 p.m. Tickets are $10 with all proceeds going to the Tampa Bay chapter of the American Red Cross. Lacy will be there hosting the shows.

Why are we so fortunate? because the executive producer of The Hammer is Carrollwood resident and clinical psychologist Gregory Firestone, who I'll profile in a column Friday on the Etc. page 2B.

Good movie, great cause.

Summer movie trailer clubhouse is open!

We were sitting around a table somewhere in Ybor during Super Bowl XXXXOOOO (that's our kind of Roman numerals) when I told Princess Di that every football team looks like a champion in the highlight reels. I'm sure I wasn't the first to notice but Di -- bless her no-R-rated-movies-before-21 heart -- thought I was a genius.

I hope everyone else notices that movies are the same kind of promotional beast. Watch the Miami Dolphins' 2007 highlights, hear that NFL Films announcer's (probably a Sabol) booming promise of title-challenging days, probably now, despite a 1-15 season. Tell me if that doesn't look and sound like the preview trailer for Space Chimps.

Every movie is an Oscar contender in the highlight reel.

Which brings us to the topic of movie previews, specifically summer flicks, that coincidentally are the subject of today's Weekend cover story.

Check out my picks for the 10 best and 10 worst movie summer movie preview trailers. Then post your own choices in either or both categories.

Let's remember that anything released before this weekend doesn't count. The online posting date, finally, of my Indy 4 review was the deadline. I don't think Helen Hunt's Then She Found Me preview would get many votes, anyway.

Have fun while I tidy up for the Mom-in-law's visit.

Bunny Chow served at Studio@620

The Gasparilla Film Festival doesn't fold its tents when the wrap party ends. These folks are carving out an identity as a 365-day supporter of independent film arts, both here in Tampa Bay and now around the world.

The festival's ambitious Global Lens Film Series begins this Friday at Studio@620, 620 1st Ave. S in St Petersburg. The venue, WMNF-FM and the University of Tampa are sponsoring this mostly fortnightly (Bob Jenkins just gave me that word) event. The Gasparilla fest hooked up with the Los Angeles San Francisco-based Global Film Initiative, "promoting cross-cultural understanding and diversity by presenting developing world feature films in over 40 major U.S. cities."

The first Global Lens offering is John Barker's Bunny Chow, focusing upon three comedians living in Johannesburg celebrating a raucous roadtrip to Oppi Koppi, South Africa's largest music festival.

The Incredible Shrinking Oscar Winner

Helen Hunt copped a best actress Academy Award for As Good As It Gets, and maybe that's as good as it'll ever get for her.

Anybody see Pay It Forward, The Curse of the Jade Scorpion and Bobby to watch her playing thankless roles blandly? You may have seen What Women Want and/or Cast Away, but do you even remember Hunt was there?

Perhaps directing is her return ticket to significance. On television, where her misplaced debut Then She Found Me might be an afternoon delight for bored homemakers cuddling bon bons.

Then She Found Me is essentially Baby Mama without the jokes, although Hunt and her actors seem to believe they’re there. Hunt plays April Epner, a kindergarten teacher who wants to be a mother. Her marriage to a nerd (Matthew Broderick) ends when he moves back in with his mother. April’s adoptive mother just died. Her biological mother is Bette Midler, whose character has a name but it doesn’t matter because she’s always Bette Midler.

There’s also a Mr. Right, played by the rightest of misters in these affairs, Colin Firth. He’s always Colin Firth; masking his emotions behind that deceptively stern face until the proper moment when he becomes Mr. Darcy-dreamy.

As a director, Hunt is unremarkable except for the extraordinary number of close-ups she gives herself. It isn’t exactly vanity since April scarcely wears makeup on her perpetually strained face; more like an expensive screen test for that meaty comeback role Hunt seeks.

[AP photo]

Bra Boys and a sweet old lady

In Sydney, Australia’s surfside suburb Marouba lives the Abberton brothers’ legacy of riding waves and trampling civility. They are the core of the infamous Bra Boys (R), a gang preferring to be considered a tribe whose violations of law and propriety are preservations of their culture, not criminal acts.

Who says? The co-creator of Bra Boys who happens to be oldest brother Sunny Abberton. Starting with an unconvincing link to Marouba’s historical past, the Abbertons and their surfing cronies are constantly posed as misunderstood free spirits. The mind-altering binges, reckless behavior and a murder charge all have some bogus rationalization in Abberton’s view.

It isn’t surprising that Russell Crowe with his bad boy image feels connected to the Abberton brothers, providing narration here and plans for a dramatic feature film on the subject. Crowe’s listless line readings suggest his involvement is part of the deal rather than a labor of love.

Like the superior Dogtown and Z-Boys a few years ago, Bra Boys depends chiefly upon home movies, less tightly edited and more blurry in this movie. A more amateurish look is seldom seen in theaters. Even sloppiness might be excused if Abberton weren’t so obviously self-serving to his clan. Brother Jai is charged with killing a drug dealer and the slant becomes too steep for credibility; even if he’s innocent, conviction could be payback for any number of infractions.

The surfing sequences are impressive as any footage in Australia’s waves should be, and the Abbertons’ rebellious nature may appeal to some viewers. But Bra Boys plays like a character reference at a sentencing hearing after the defendant pleads guilty; easy to see through and tough to believe.

Harrison Ford is still a blockbusting swashbuckler at 66 while the Young@Heart chorus of rocking seniors swings out singing. So, what about actor/bon vivant Mimi Weddell deserves a movie besides surviving to age 93?

Director Jyll Johnstone can’t find a concrete answer in her documentary Hats Off despite a decade’s access to Weddell’s routine of chasing down bit parts and modeling gigs. Sure, it’s a kick to see her flipping through gymnastics classes, and being named one of New York’s 50 most beautiful people is a neat twist on that distinction. Anyone defying expectations of aging is at least momentarily interesting.

But Johnstone settles for the sheer novelty of Weddell’s existence, unlike the Young@Heart documentary currently in theaters making stylish longevity seem within anyone’s reach. Hats Off suggests it’s Weddell’s way or nothing, and she’s an exception to the mortality rule.

Viewers may recognize Weddell from her brief appearances on TV’s Sex and the City and Law and Order, and films such as Across the Universe, Hitch and Broken Flowers. Her brittle physical appearance is deceiving but suitable for roles poking fun at seniors. Johnstone doesn’t inquire much about that image, nor does she delve into the slight embarrassment Weddell’s family suggests in interviews.

Without such insight, Hats Off is merely an overlong version of what could be a brief human interest segment on the evening news.

David #!@*!&# Mamet

Emily Moritmer stars as Laura Black, left, and Chiwetel Ejiofor stars as Mike Terry in the film, "Redbelt." [AP/Sony Pictures]

Writer-director David Mamet (Glengarry Glen Ross, The Spanish Prisoner) detours slightly from his moody, profane con games with Redbelt, creating something like an action movie. The combination isn’t entirely successful, with bone-crushing mixed martial arts interrupted by Mamet putting eloquent words into the mouths of characters, many of whom aren’t around enough for their thoughts to matter.

Mike Terry (Chiwetel Ejiofor) is a man of honor, as Mamet often essays, caught in a potentially compromising position. He owns a ju jitsu school bleeding red ink, with a wife (Alice Braga) doubting their future. In a bizarre early scene, a nervous attorney (Emily Mortimer) accidentally discharges a gun belonging to one of Mike’s students, a policeman who graciously doesn’t arrest her. So far, so what?

Mike visits a tavern where movie star Chet Frank (Tim Allen) is being harassed by a drunk. Mike steps in to protect Chet, who repays him with dinner, an expensive wristwatch and a job supervising fight scenes on his latest production. Something about Chet and his agent (Joe Mantegna) doesn’t seem right, and it isn’t. Neither is it particularly interesting.

Exactly how those episodes connect to Mike entering a crooked mixed martial arts tournament isn’t clear, even in hindsight. Neither does the fact that the big fight occurs in an arena entranceway, not the ring. Redbelt feels like a movie with a lot of clarity left on the editing room floor, some allegory Mamet is attempting that never comes into focus, with a conclusion so incredible that the movie crumples into a heap like one of Mike’s opponents.

Redbelt opens in select theaters May 9.

My American Idol... Fred Knittle

You have phone interviews, and then you have conversations that happen to involve a telephone.

I had the latter this afternoon with Fred Knittle, the Young@Heart chorus member whose breathtaking version of Coldplay's Fix You is available a few posts back on this blog.

Fred didn't make the trip to L.A. with the other chorus members, set up by the distributors of Young@Heart (opening May 2). His heart won't take the trip these days. But he had a nice day with ROMEO -- which puzzled me, too, until he told me that ROMEO stands for: Retired Old Men Eating Out.

They meet every Tuesday for lunch and chat. Fred said the group's motto is: "If you don't have anything nice to say, join our club."

Checked my e-mail and found this message, which made my day:

Dear Steve:  I just went to your blog and it was great…  thank you for the kind words…  It also gave me a picture of you that will help me recognize you when you come North for a visit to Northampton (Mass.).

Thanks for the phone call today and for being outgoing and warm during the interview.  I felt relaxed throughout your in-depth questioning.

Seriously, my new found friend, I look forward to getting a copy of the article in the St. Pete Times.

Fred

It'll be there, Fred. Wish I could hand-deliver it.

John Waters is no cry baby

Spent a few highly amusing minutes on the phone with John Waters this week, in advance of his April 26 appearance at the Salvador Dali Museum in St. Pete. Waters will lecture on "This Filthy World" as part of the continuing Dali and Film exhibit.

I won't make the show, sorry to say. Months ago, I committed to hosting an auction that night for a private school in Tampa. Waters had a laugh when I said I had to choose the deprived over the depraved.

The interview will be published April 25 in Floridian, but here are a few morsels: Waters has visited the Tampa Bay area numerous times (I caught his act at Tampa Theatre sometime last century) but can't pin down a favorite place to spend time.

"I don’t know (Tampa Bay) well enough," he said. "I always look for the underside. I always like redneck bars where irony doesn’t exist. But I never go to those places to feel superior. I look up to those. I don’t condescend in any way as people would do who are really offensive.

"I hate hot weather. I would rather be naked in the Alps. My only problem with Florida is that it’s just too f------ hot."

We spoke about a week before Waters' 62nd birthday, closely followed by the Broadway debut of Cry-Baby, based on his 1990 flick starring Johnny Depp.

"That’s a scary week," he said. "A birthday is always scary at my age but then you add an opening on Broadway two days afterward. Opening a show is always scarier. I only celebrate my birthday every 10 years now when I throw myself a big party.

"I had my 30th birthday in a punk rock club when a stripper jumped out of a cake and broke her leg. I had my 40th in an old age home I rented in Baltimore and the invitation had walkers on it. My 50th was at Pravda restaurant in New York before Pravda even opened, and my 60th was at a glamorous nightclub in New York. So maybe I should have my 70th in Paris or something. You have to pay for it yourself and do it for yourself so it isn’t a burden on anybody else."

I agreed, telling him that's what I did for my 50th, with a Big Lebowski theme. "Oh, that sounds like fun," he said. "Just a lot of people getting stoned and saying 'f---' a lot."

Funny, I didn't see him there.

We should all grow so old, so youthfully

My lord, what a movie I saw last night.

What a future I hope I saw for myself and loved ones.

I'll be writing much more about Stephen Walker's documentary Young@Heart, opening May 2 in a limited number of theaters (hey, this isn't Iron Man). But let me say just a little now, setting up this YouTube clip.

Young@Heart follows 24 senior citizens in New England making up a chorus with a steady concert date calendar. Ages range from 72 to 92 (at least in 2006 when the movie was filmed). The catch is that the Young@Heart chorus only sings rock, pop and R&B songs, from David Bowie to Sonic Youth to the Bee Gees to the Ramones.

Watching these seniors gone mildly wild is one of the most exhilarating movie experiences I've had in a long time. Anyone planning to grow old, or anyone who doesn't want to, needs to see this movie. Of course there are health issues that interfere, including the deaths of two key singers just before a big concert.

Walker never makes a maudlin issue of it, and these feisty folks wouldn't allow him to, anyway. The show goes on in true trouper fashion, including the return of former member Fred Knittle, whose congestive heart disease made him stop singing. Fred is supposed to do a duet of Coldplay's Fix You with another member, Bob Salvini, who dies days before the show. Fred goes it alone for his pal, in a scene that left me smiling through tears that are welling up again as I type this.

Sarasota stars and (too much) sun

After an hour on the beach that left me resembling Hellboy, the Sarasota Film Festival's tenth anniversary party at Longboat Key Club and Resort was like aloe vera lotion for the eyes.

Lots of pretty people in pretty clothes with pretty fancy cars. Quite different from the eco-friendly golf cart we hijacked to make it across the street.

Here are a few photo impressions, during a red carpet sashay and awards ceremony nearly drowned out by clinking glasses and dinnerware clatter, featuring two famous "Charlies:"

Charlize Theron (or "Charlie" to her friends but apparently not me) had arrived only hours before with live-in filmmaker Stuart Townsend, who is just handsome enough to make me give up the moonlit fantasy I described yesterday.

Stanley Tucci and Steve Buscemi arrived at the same time, befitting a friendship that Buscemi said began when they were part of a hiking trip that got too tiring and intoxicating to finish. They wound up hitching a ride down the mountain on the back of a septic tank servicing truck (motto: "We're No.1 in the No. 2 business). The filmmakers share ownership of a production company now. "If anyone wants to invest," Buscemi quipped, "We'll take you down with us."

Buscemi added in his funny remarks that this was his second trip to Sarasota for the festival: "You know how much I love the sun," the perpetually pallid actor dead-panned.

Florida's Charlie Crist -- who reminded everyone that Theron's pals call her Charlie, too -- became the first governor to visit the Sarasota festival, along with his girlfriend-in-chief Carole Rome.

Crist touted the Florida film industry's $3.9 billion a year money flow into the state, contributing thousands of jobs. With that, Crist suggested, comes responsibility: "All of you who work in this industry, I say: America is the world leader in film and we need to continue to stay that way. Whatever you do when you make a film, promote something good. It matters."

Veteran film star Norman Lloyd looked sharp on the runway, still as lively as anyone in their 90's has a right to be.

Also caught former New York Times film critic Elvis Mitchell -- one of my personal faves -- on the red carpet.

Speaking of awards: Here are the winners from this year's Sarasota fest. You may never hear of them again but there's always that chance. Keep in mind that the spotlighted films -- Tucci's Blind Date, Theron and Townsend's Battle in Seattle and Who is Norman Lloyd? weren't entered in competition.

Saturday night, Tucci picked up the festival's Renaissance Award for his work as an actor, writer and director; Theron received the Career Achievement Award, Ted Hope (The Savages, American Splendor) grabbed the Producers Award and director Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck won the festival's Breakthrough Award for his Oscar winning forign film The Lives of Others.

The following were jury prize selections:

Narrative feature: Munyurangabo; documentary feature: Stranded: I Have Come from a Plane That Crashed on the Mountain; special jury prize for documentaries: To See if I'm Smiling; Independent Visions: The Pleasure of Being Robbed (which also won the Heineken Red Star prize for innovation and originality).

Audience award winners included:

Narrative films: Fugitive Pieces; documentaries: Of All the Things; world cinema: Christmas Story; short film: La Corona.

Night of 1000 Stars; morning of equal hangovers

Don’t know how anyone could be expected to retreat to a dark movie theater on a sun-splashed morning like this in Sarasota. Especially after a hazy, crazy Night of 1,000 Stars where at least that many celestial objects were circling everyone’s Bombay Sapphire-stoked heads.

Michael’s on East is the hoi polloi chuckwagon where the Sarasota Film Festival sets aside one of its social gatherings each year. I’m sure the lunch and dinner crowds don’t scrape against fire code standards like this shindig. I tried to take a head count but kept getting distracted by the  handiwork of cosmetic surgeons who must rank high among Sarasota’s industrialists.

I swear when one gem-drenched sabertoothed cougar smiled at me, her toes curled backward from the skin tension.

Stanley Tucci squeezed into Michael’s around 10:15, fresh from a sold-out screening of his new movie Blind Date, co-starring Patricia Clarkson. The overheard consensus among folks who made it inside the theater wasn’t complimentary. Tucci’s bravely polite smiles for photographers seemed to confirm that. “Boring” was the most common description I heard. I’ll have a chance later to see if that’s true.

Grabbed a few seconds with Tucci before he was hustled to the roped-off VIP area, sitting at a table reserved for Blind Date personnel and friends. I kept the chat brief and off the screening vibe, just to be polite. He had bigger crab cakes to fry since most of the VIPs appeared to be festival sponsors and Sarasota moneybags; the kind of folks who chipped in for William H. Macy’s opening night film, The Deal.

Variety recently named Sarasota as one of the top festivals where artists may find financial support for projects, while other festivals are either shopping centers for distributors buying rights to completed movies (Sundance, Cannes) or kicking off awards hype for movies with everything else lined up (Telluride, Toronto). You gotta start the process somewhere and it usually has something to do with someone else’s bank account.

Tucci’s pal Steve Buscemi – who’ll introduce him at tonight’s awards gala at Longboat Key Club and Resort – also worked the VIP lounge crowd. He didn’t mind smiling (or something like it) for cameras clicked by fans on the non-business side of the ropes.

Princess Di and I took off around 11:15 when the body crunch factor approached agoraphobic levels. We have tickets to a couple screenings (Helen Hunt’s directorial debut Then She Found Me and the Harry Potter mania documentary We Were Wizards) and owe it to ourselves to catch some of these ultraviolet rays before dressing for tonight’s gig.

I was asked by the folks at WTSP Ch. 10 (where I do movie reviews each Thursday during the 4 p.m. newscast) if I might be available to handle red carpet interviews of Buscemi and Oscar winner Charlize Theron, whose film Battle in Seattle closes the festival tomorrow. Looks like that won’t happen, which is a shame.

I had envisioned chatting with Theron then saying something like: “Well, I have to ask you the obligatory red carpet question.” Before she could say which designer she’s wearing I’d say: “What am I wearing?”

In my fantasy, she’d laugh, charmed by my wit. Then we’d head back to the hotel beachfront and gaze at the stars until daybreak.

In reality, she’d say: “A cheap suit.”

Jennifer Ehle and T.M.I.

I happen to think that a measure of any cultural, social or political critic is the occasional willingness to admit that he or she doesn't know what they're talking about.

Maybe that's just self-defense.

Anyway, I was offered a few phone minutes Tuesday with Jennifer Ehle, a guest of the Sarasota Film Festival, whose screen career -- she has won two Tony awards for Broadway excellence but I live in Florida -- has mostly escaped me except for a solid reputation among big-city critics who see her best movies.

I like these situations. Really. I have to scramble for question ideas and (in this case ) she has to realize that I haven't seen her film Before the Rains (playing today and Thursday at SFF), that she isn't a household name (pronounced EE-lee) and any publicity for the movie from a top-flight publication (even a blog) is better than a poke in the eye.

Sometimes, as with Ehle, that kind of crunch brings out the nicest in people. Some examples from our impromptu 4:34 on the phone:

I started with inquiring about how she likes Sarasota.

"Oh, my goodness, we love it," Ehle said. "We got here yesterday afternoon and last night we loved it so much that we called my parents, who live in North Carolina, and said: ‘We think you should come down.’ So, they arrive in about 10 minutes. Isn’t that great? It’s really lovely here."

Ehle's mother is Rosemary Harris, also a Tony winning actor and best-know to movie masses as "Aunt May Parker" in the Spider-Man trilogy. They played young and old versions of the same character in two movies, including Istvan Szabo's Sunshine. Since Mom made the leap (or took the fall) to popcorn cinema, and since Ehle is a lovely woman, why doesn't she play a few frothy, fluffy Bullock/Roberts/Hathaway kinds of roles?

"I don’t know why," she said laughing. "Talk to my manager. I guess people don’t think of me as frothy but God knows I have my moments.

"You know, I actually, really enjoy escapism. I’ve probably seen more escapist movies than any other kind, not that I see a lot because I’m a very happy homebody.

"(My mother) adores being part of (a blockbuster series). I don’t yearn for it. I’m sure the financial security would be lovely. But I actually know lots of people who have been part of those kinds of movies that haven’t given them that financial security. It’s not always the actors who make the most amount of money from those ventures. Sometimes they make enormous amounts. But I don’t yearn for that kind of fame.

"Maybe when I’m 70 I’ll get one of those parts, too."

Who is Norman Lloyd?

Who is Norman Lloyd? is a fascinating documentary and a darn good question.

At age 93, Lloyd is someone old enough to have played tennis daily with Charlie Chaplin and young enough at heart to charm Cameron Diaz in 2005’s In Her Shoes.   Lloyd performed on stage with Orson Welles’ Mercury Theater, made movies with a portly legend he still calls “Hitch,” oversaw the autistic dream that was TV’s St. Elsewhere and couldn’t prevent the end of the world that George Clooney produced in a remake of Fail-Safe.

If Kevin Bacon can be connected to anyone in Hollywood in six degrees, Norman Lloyd could probably do it four.

Who is Norman Lloyd? is director Matthew Sussman’s answer to that question, a brisk chronicle of an extraordinary Hollywood life. Lloyd will introduce the film at two Sarasota Film Festival screenings, Thursday (5:15 p.m.) and Friday (7:15), and probably top it during after-show discussions of places he has been and celebrities he has known.

“It is true that this business is based on relationships,” Lloyd said Monday from his Los Angeles home. “I’m very proud of the people with whom I’ve worked. It’s an amazing collection that just by happenstance happened. Chaplin, (Alfred) Hitchcock, (Jean) Renoir, Welles, even in more modern times (Martin) Scorsese.

Pick any famous name and Lloyd can spin an astounding true story. For our brief conversation, I chose Chaplin, which led him to these memories:

“Charlie and I would play tennis four times a week, especially in the summers. I can still see him saying to me one day: ‘If you ever want to do (a film project), let me know and I’m in for half (of the financing).”

Lloyd had just the project in mind, a movie based on Horace McCoy’s novel They Shoot Horses, Don’t They?, set in a Depression-era dance marathons where desperate souls struggled to survive.

“Charlie knew about marathons from A to Z,” Lloyd said. “He would pretend he knew nothing about them but he was a magnificent smokescreen. He pretended not to know much about them until we got talking then he knew everything about them.”

Lloyd purchased the rights from McCoy for $3,000. Chaplin wanted to produce the movie with Lloyd directing in the early 1950’s as a starring vehicle for his son Sydney, and a newcomer named Marilyn Monroe, who was having an affair with both Sydney and his brother Charlie, Jr.

While the deal came together, Chaplin took his family on a European trip. During the vacation, Chaplin learned that he wouldn’t be allowed back into the U.S. unless he faced a morals charge related to an earlier lover and accusations of being a Communist sympathizer during the McCarthy era.

“Charlie said he would never make another movie in America. And he never did.”

As often happens with Lloyd’s anecdotes, the story twists into itself with another layer of Hollywood serendipity:

“There was a bookstore with an owner I knew quite well,” Lloyd said. “He told me about a girl who always came in to buy books by Tolstoy and Dostoyevsky, saying I should meet her. I told him: “I don’t want to meet that kind of girl.'

“He insisted and gave me her phone number, writing down the name ‘Marilyn Monroe.’ I’m here to tell you -- and this may be the most important information for your interview -- I never called her.”

Stanley Tucci gets what he deserves

Stanley Tucci is a dedicated actor and filmmaker who can’t believe he deserves a career achievement award yet.

Tucci is also a shrewd guy, so he won’t decline the Sarasota Film Festival’s offer, either. He’ll pick up his honor Saturday night at the festival’s tenth anniversary gala, after finding a loophole that won’t compromise his creative integrity.

“They didn’t say lifetime achievement, which is nice. Then they’re just opening the door for you to quit,” Tucci, 47, said in a telephone interview from New York. “It’s a nice way to be embarrassed.

“Whether you deserve it or not, part of the embarrassment comes from feeling like you don’t deserve it. I always feel there’s so much more for me to do. What I’ve done is certainly not enough for me. I’ve only just gotten started.”

That’s bad news for any aspiring character actors out there. Tucci is currently the go-to guy when Academy Award winning filmmakers such as Steven Spielberg and Sam Mendes require someone with ordinary looks and extraordinary range. He might have a few Oscar nominations himself by now, if he didn’t play each character so effortlessly right.

Tucci is also a fine writer and director, revered in the independent film world. During our conversation, Tucci intuitively found a link between the rawness of his latest film, Blind Date, the gentle culinary charm of Big Night (1996), the Laurel and Hardy madness of The Imposters and the true-life falsehoods of Joe Gould’s Secret (2000).

“They’re all about identity and the role of the artist in society, whether it’s chefs, actors or journalists.” he said. “That’s sounds pretentious, and maybe is. That’s what all those films have in common. They’re all sort of the same film over and over again in a different genre.”

Each film is marked by Tucci’s practical nature. He doesn’t enjoy not working, and he doesn’t like waste when he works.

“If you have any amount of extra drive (as an actor) you’ll want to start generating your own work,” he said. “If you wait for people to give you a job, you could be waiting for a very long time, and it has nothing to do with whether you’re talented or not.

"I like to prepare. I don't like to waste money and I don't like to waste time. A lot of people seem to want to believe that creativity and practicality can't go hand-in-hand. I actually think they can."

Nice "Deal" in Sarasota

Princess Di and I spent Friday night at the opening of the Sarasota Film Festival. Always a good time except everyone thinks Di is Tina Fey (which is neat) and they're wondering what she's doing hanging around Paul Sorvino (which isn't).

A packed house at Van Wezel Hall genuinely seemed to enjoy The Deal, an almost-too-inside Hollywood satire co-written, co-produced and starring William H. Macy. You'll remember this as the movie Macy -- a frequent Sarasota visitor -- peddled to investors in several cities including Sarasota, looking for investors. These rookies in filmmaking got their money's worth in status enhancing, if not returns yet.

Before the show, the "Dealmakers" as investors were dubbed were asked to stand for a round of applause. Only a half-dozen or so people rose, and some must have been riding family tuxedo coattails. The end credits thanked 16 investors ((or so, since one was a group endeavor) from Sarasota, Chicago, New York and Toronto. That's an average of 4 checkbooks per city, so Sarasota is pretty much on par.

Never found any of the Dealmakers after the show to ask what they think of the process and Macy's movie. I'm sure they wouldn't say "mud" if they had a mouthful.

The Deal is a pretty good effort, genuinely hilarious at times and frustrating at others, even to someone like me with a decent idea of how the industry works. It wouldn't play well in Peoria, I imagine.

The best part about The Deal is that Meg Ryan -- who I've ragged on for a few years now -- has her best role in ages and flies with it. She plays a studio project developer being duped by a suicidal producer (Macy) into financing a script written as an art house historical epic then warped into a cheesy action flick starring an African-American Bruce Willis (LL Cool J). Ryan finally acts her age while the cosmetic tinkering she has undergone to maintain that illusion perfectly fits the character.

Di and I briefly stopped by the after-show party to see if any Dealmakers were around. You'd never find them in the human mass crowding the courtyard at Ringling Museum. People in Sarasota love their parties.

I did run into Macy, who thanked me for the interview and is just as nice as you'd expect him to be. Bill (he told me to call him that) was visibly pleased with the response to The Deal:

"That audience got the movie better than the one at Sundance," he said. "Sometimes when you make a movie about the movies, people turn up their nose because they think they know it all. This crowd laughed at the right places.

I suggested that he had a bit of a home field advantage with Dealmakers and their friends in the theater. "Yeah, a little bit I guess. But this was very encouraging. We're close to selling this thing (to a distributor) and this should help."

Sarasota bound, and boating with the A-Train

What's the emoticon for "embarrassed?" I'm still pissed about rushing through the Leatherheads review Tuesday morning, and nobody noticing a glaring mistake until it was published.

Yes, folks, I know there weren't Nazis in World War I. Doesn't mean I can't type it. The correction ran today on 2B (no, it wasn't part of the no-gossip-day plan) but the gloating e-mails and phone messages haven't stopped. I made some insecure people's day.

So, after kicking Mojo (just kidding!) and cranking out more closely scrutinized stuff for next Weekend, I'm off to pick up Princess Di and head to Sarasota for the film festival's opening night screening of The Deal. I'll post some impressions later, and before Saturday's shindig that will make this week worth slogging through.

Tomorrow I'll again be a dignitary at the Chasco Fiesta Boat Parade in New Port Richey where I was (as Daly would say) reared. Usually I'm a miscreant at Chasco events but "dignitary" will do for a day. Di and I will be riding on one of the boat-floats, waving at folks along the Cotee riverside. The theme is something like "Hooray for Hollywood" after making the trip last year as a hometown boy made semi-good.

Tampa Bay Buccaneers great (no matter what Daly believes) Mike Alstott is the grand marshal, and I'm looking forward to seeing him again at our Hooters pre-and-post parade gatherings. The last time was when I tossed the first pitch at a (then-Devil) Rays game against the Mets. Mike was sitting in a box behind us and signed the ball.

Should be fun, then we'll hit Jilly's, an NPR institution owned by friends. Hope your weekend rocks, too.

Mr Holland and Steven Tyler's Opus

A decade ago, the Sarasota Film Festival was a blip on the city’s tony social calendar; one weekend, eight films and a wrap party. These days, eight movies and a shindig might be accomplished at the festival in a single day.

From modest beginnings, the Sarasota Film Festival has evolved into something worth the community bragging about. Now it is a 10-day event (Apr. 4-13) with more than 200 works from 30 countries, plus an array of special events. The guest list is more impressive each year. Film industry insiders regularly rate it among the nation’s top cinema showcases.

“It sends a statement that we’re here and we’re here to stay,” said executive director Jody Kielbasa who, along with keen programmer Tom Hall, has overseen the festival’s growth.

Kielbasa said the turning point was 2003 when Academy Award winner Richard Dreyfuss visited to pick up a career achievement award, and Aerosmith played at the wrap party.

“You just got a real sense that this was something special, something unique that was transforming our community in a lot of ways,” Kielbasa said. “Frankly, it was hard to miss. You don't get Aerosmith playing five songs at your wrap party -- free of charge, I might add -- and not make the (entertainment news) wires. That’s when our (attendance) numbers spiked dramatically. It began to take on a life of its own.”

This year's celebrity guest list includes Oscar winner Charlize Theron and her director/beau Stuart Townsend with their Battle in Seattle, William H. Macy (The Deal ), Stanley Tucci (Blind Date) -- who I spoke with on the phone recently and is just as cool and funny as you think -- plus Steve Buscemi and Liv Ullmann headlining a tribute to her collaborations with Ingmar Bergman.

Check out the Web site. You probably find something worth the gas to Sarasota.

The best foreign film of this (or last) year?

The Counterfeiters won the Oscar for best foreign language film last month, which shocked everyone I know except me, Princess Di and our Clearwater/Telluride friends who saw it last Labor Day weekend.

I didn't include The Counterfeiters on my 2007 top-10 list since it hadn't opened in local theaters, and honestly didn't seem as if it would. The Oscar changed that, so I'll consider it eligible for 2008.

You may recall my previous post about having dinner with director Stefan Ruzowitzky at the Telluride festival, that was interrupted by my winning bet with Sony Pictures Classics co-prez Tom Bernard. I assure you that my encounters with them don't color my admiration for the film.

Ruzowitzky fashions a different sort of Holocaust movie, in which Jewish concentration camp prisoners are victims with guile, and perhaps the upper hand on their Nazi captors. Based on a true story, The Counterfeiters is constantly entertaining, while not ignoring the horror or emotional uplift of previous films on the topic.

Salomon “Sali” Sorowitsch (Karl Markovics) is known as the world’s greatest forger, making his capture a feather in the cap of policeman Friedrich Herzog (Devid Streisow). Five years later, Herzog is the commandant of a camp where Sali and other experienced forgers are gathered.

The Nazis plan to flood and ruin Allied economies with bogus money. The prisoners will make it work, or die refusing. Sali realizes the importance of the scheme, using it to his advantage, or so he thinks. By the conclusion, we are familiar with an overlooked angle of the Holocaust, the sharp divisions among prisoners and the survival instincts keeping them together.

Ruzowitzky scores his film with tango rhythms, underlining the dance of motives and personalities that Sali and Herzog perform. He takes a historic episode that we think the movies have covered completely and thrillingly proves us wrong.

The Counterfeiters opens April 4, probably at only one or two theaters. It's worth seeking out, along with the full review in next Thursday's Weekend.

What's The Deal with William H. Macy?

Academy Award nominee William H. Macy’s fifth visit to the Sarasota Film Festival next week won’t be as leisurely as before.

In past years, Macy touted TV-movies that already had network slots, picked up a career achievement award then watched his wife Felicity Huffman awarded the same.

Macy also made friends who helped finance The Deal, an inside-Hollywood satire opening the 10-day festival on April 4. Tickets for that event and others are available at the festival Web site.

Investors and friends they wish to impress will attend opening night, in a social scene where impressions are everything. Nearly half of the film’s $8-million budget was raised in Sarasota and Manatee Counties (plus Chicago and New York), from well-heeled silent partners adding a touch of Hollywood to their lives.

“There’s an astounding amount of money in that part of the state,” Macy said during a telephone interview. “People would give us their cards and say: ‘If you ever want to make a movie, maybe I’d be interested in investing.’

“Well, the joke was on them because we kept the cards.”

Macy co-wrote the screenplay for The Deal with director Steven Schachter, ironically starring as a conniving movie producer desperately seeking a hit. Macy approached his first hands-on producer’s credit with humility and transparency his film character wouldn’t understand.

“For the first time, I was the one looking people in the eye, saying: ‘Give me your money and I think we’ll get it back,’” Macy said. “That comes with a heavy responsibility. My reputation and my word are on the line.”

On the phone, Macy sounds like the kind of guy I'd trust with a few thousands of my dollars, if I had any to spare. Read the rest of his interview Friday in Floridian, advancing the Sarasota festival opening next week.

Don't get too close to the monitor...

... I'm not sure if I'm contagious or not. Been laid low the past few days with this creeping crud that my boss, The Divine Ms. S, apparently passed off to me Saturday night at the Sunscreen Film Festival. She has been trying to get me to take a day off for a while but it didn't work; I just wrote at home.

Between emptying my phlegm spittoon and scaring the pets with my banshee coughs, I neglected to mention how much fun Sunscreen's presentation of Raiders of the Lost Ark: The Adaptation turned out to be.

Picture and sound clarity was what you'd expect from middle-schoolers shooting with Betamax equipment 25 years ago; maybe straining my ears contributed to the nose and throat problems later. But the word that kept popping into my mind was: "fearless." Those kids had absolutely no idea of what they shouldn't have been able to do, or that lawyers might object, or that fire stunts can kill.

When it ended, I waited to chat with director Eric Zala -- now approaching middle age -- and got a kick out of two boys, just about his age when Raiders was remade, looking up at him like he was some kind of superhero. The spark of a dream, perhaps, and I couldn't avoid smiling.

Also wanted to drop in the Sunscreen festival's award winners, announced after the Raiders screening.

I was very pleased to see Holler Back: (Not) Voting in an American Town take the best documentary prize. Of all the Sunscreen entries (and I didn't see them all), that one seems to have the best chance of breaking into the mainstream.

Broke Sky was named best feature, while The Art of Pain took the audience award (perhaps because it had much of its avuncular cast attending and they stuffed the ballot box).

Best Florida Film award, named for Sunscreen patrons Stan and Cindy Heitman, went to Pawn'd, a Clerks-style comedy set in a pawn shop.

Michael Knowles was named best director for One Night (one I missed).

Other prizes were awarded to Through Any Window (best music video... and it starred The Office's hottie Jenna Fischer), Glitch (best animated film), and Rabia (best short).

Overall, a nice step forward for Sunscreen, although co-founder Tony Armer's prediction of thousands attending was obviously exaggerated -- which a Gasparilla Film Festival spokesman gladly pointed out to me in an e-mail. Maybe one sign that Tampa Bay is becoming a nice place for festivals isn't the number we have but the competitive sniping to ensue as each tries to stake out its territory.

Sunscreen film fest underway

The third annual Sunscreen Film Festival, a showcase of barely discovered cinema talent continues through Saturday at the Renaissance Vinoy Resort and Golf Club in St. Petersburg.

Seventy-three film and video works – shorts, documentaries and features – crowd the Sunscreen festival. Complete information is available on the festival Web site.

Tonight’s 8 p.m. centerpiece is the world premiere of Matt Brookens’ The Art of Pain, a dark comedy that errs on the side of ambition – which isn’t always a bad thing. Brookens is a fanboy breezing through genres – kung fu, rom-com, zombies, Kevin Smith buddy flicks, etc. -- proving he can ably replicate and spoof them, in service of a slowly congealing plot.

Jack (Anders Erickson) is a budding artist working at a movie theater alongside his girlfriend (Lauren Bishop) and a comic-book geek (Greg Brookens). A new employee (John LaFlamboy) is a ninja school washout believing that ruining Jack’s life will enhance his art. It doesn’t need to be every aspect of Jack’s life but Brookens insists, sprucing up repetition with eye-catching animation and fantasy sequences.

The Art of Pain is emblematic of a first-showcase festival like Sunscreen; obviously the result of talent and ingenuity yet likely not a breakout effort. But it does entertain and can possibly inspire other filmmakers. Brookens’ movie and his future are worth watching.

Friday highlights include the voter apathy documentary Holler Back: (Not) Voting  in an American Town (2:45 p.m.), and the world premiere of Screw Cupid (5:30), a romantic comedy crisply written and directed by Sanjeev Sirpal.

Friday also offers the first showing of Raiders of the Lost Ark: The Adaptation (9:30), a shot-by-shot remake of Steven Spielberg’s classic, done by three Mississippi teenagers in the 1980’s. This underground sensation plays again Saturday at 6:30 p.m., the final screening before the closing night party at 8:45.

Sunscreen is also about educating film artists, with seminars planned on subjects ranging from screenwriting (Friday, 4 p.m.) and distribution tactics (Saturday, 10 a.m.) to nailing that acting audition (today, 10 a.m.).

Of course, there are parties including tonight’s Fort Pastor concert at St