JACKASS: THE MOVIE (US, does it matter?)
For those of you who don't know about jackass, it's a popular TV show on MTV in which amateur stuntman (and Donny Osmond lookalike) Johnny Knoxville and his lunatic friends come up with an endless number of ways in which to maim, humiliate or sicken themselves and each other. No plot, no story, just a series of pranks, one after the other. jackass: the movie is 87 minutes of same, featuring some stunts obviously too extreme to show on television (usually because of male nudity). So you get guys eating snow soaked with their own urine, letting baby alligators bite them on the nipple, defecating in uninstalled toilets in the middle of hardware stores, shooting roman candles out of their butts and vomiting frequently. Walking out of the theatre, most of the guys I saw were smiling and shaking their heads, their female dates generally annoyed and disgusted. You get the picture. As for me? Not having seen the show, I nevertheless found the film watchable in a highway accident/medical experiment kind of way, impressed less by the gross-out humor than by the bizarre creativity of the stunts ("Off-road Tattoo," anyone?) and the jovial masochism of Knoxville and his buddies. Call them stupid, call them insane, but there's no doubt that they are having the time of their lives, and there is something infectious about that. We may as well enjoy this stuff now, because there's no doubt in my mind that eventually one of these idiots is going to get himself killed.

JAPANESE STORY (Australia, Sue Brooks)
Unexpectedly moving film that takes a tired premise and treats its characters with dignity and respect. An Australian geologist (Toni Collette, finally speaking with her native accent for once) is enlisted to show a nerdy young Japanese businessman (Gotaro Tsunashima) around the Australian desert. The film's poster already clues you in to the fact that, despite their initial differences and annoyance with each other, love is in the air. Japanese Story pulls another whopper of a surprise after that, which of course I won't give away, so I feel safe in alerting you at least to the twist that these two characters do wind up getting it on. Which is significant for many reasons, not least of which being the rarity of an Asian man being shown in western cinema as sexy enough for a white woman. We're all okay with the idea of white guys and Asian chicks, but you almost never hear of the reverse, so that's refreshing. So too is allowing a plain-looking woman like Collette to be accepted as a romantic leading lady. She must have been grateful for the opportunity, because not since her breakthrough performance in Muriel's Wedding has she been so simply alive. I always call her "the glummest face in show business" because her characters are so depressed in all her American films. So to see her laughing, shouting, and being sort of, well, dorky, it's a breath of fresh air. Equally dorky is Tsunashima, who carefully balances a sense of seen-through-Aussie-eyes exoticism with earnestness and soul. The chemistry between these two unlikely partners is real. Elegantly framed and deliberately paced, Japanese Story may be too slow for some; for me, though, I found it smart, honest and touching, with imagery that haunted me for days afterward. A good counterbalance to the only slightly similarly-themed Lost in Translation.

JESUS' SON (US, Alison Maclean)
Amiably flaky mood piece about a young drug addict (Billy Crudup) wandering through America during the early 1970's, and the various lost souls he encounters along his journeys. Not so much a drama as it is a string of sketches (the film is based on Denis Johnson's collection of short stories), Jesus' Son makes a good counterpart to Gus Van Sant's classic Drugstore Cowboy; though it lacks the earlier film's intelligence and wit, it makes up for it with a sweet nature and a vague but satisfying sense of mysticism, suggested by the title (inspired by the Velvet Underground song "Heroin," in which Lou Reed boasts that the drug "makes me feel like Jesus' son").

Maclean, whose first feature was the impressive Crush, certainly directs with love, and her honest approach spreads out amongst the talented cast and crew. As most of the characters come and go (Dennis Hopper, Holly Hunter and Denis Leary have merely glorified cameos), the success of the film lies on the capable shoulders of Crudup, a decent actor who never managed to channel his good looks and charisma into being a Hollywood hunk, so has settled on starring in interesting indie films that nobody sees. Jesus' Son isn't a great film, it's not as haunting or as heartbreaking as it could be, but as a thoughtful alternative to overdone blockbuster movies, it's worth your while.

JIMMY CARTER MAN FROM PLAINS (US, Jonathan Demme)
Soft-pedaled but still engaging documentary about the former U.S. President's confrontation-plagued book tour in late 2006, when his latest work, Palestine: Peace Not Apartheid, was vilified by conservative Jews for what they deemed one-sidedness and inaccuracies in Carter's assertions that the recent four-story-high walls built in Palestinian territory, ostensibly to curb suicide bombers' entrance into Israel, was nothing but a land grab on the part of some racist Israeli leaders. The 82-year-old Carter's energy level on such a strenuous national tour is nothing less than superhuman, and he never sways from his legendary modesty and earnestness, no matter the challenges. Some may find Jonathan Demme's documentary a little too easy on Carter, but although at times Demme maddeningly cuts away from Carter's responses to the more pointed questions, leaving us to wonder if Carter deflected the uncomfortable challenges with political jargon, in the end, when Carter wins over his toughest audience (ironically without Demme present; the college where Carter gave the talk did not allow Demme in to film, using their own cameras to document the Q&A), we're left with the simplicity of Carter's message: that it's one thing to build a wall on the border of Palestine and Israel; something else entirely for Israel to build the wall entirely within Palestinian territory, blocking off the Palestinians from their own land. This is why he defends his use of the word "Apartheid" in his book title (a controversy brought up time and time again by unimaginative journalists and interviewers throughout the film). I saw this because my wife's boss, singer/songwriter Dan Bern, wrote "The Ballad of Jimmy Carter" for Demme. But even without the connection, I'm glad I caught this interesting, if not earth-shattering, documentary. It makes a strong case for Carter's message, and frankly makes a lot of right-wing Israel pundits look like imperialist bullies who bring out the old cries of anti-Semitism whenever someone dares to suggest that Israel is capable of doing something bad.

JOSIE AND THE PUSSYCATS (US, Harry Elfont & Deborah Kaplan)
This played at the $3 theatre in my neighborhood, and, while walking to that theatre, I found two $1 bills on the sidewalk. Thus, the movie wound up setting me back one whole buck, which was worth it. Rachael Leigh Cook, Tara Reid and Rosario Dawson star as the titular rock band, made famous (sort of) by the old Archie comic books. As there would be no reason at all to create a "faithful" adaptation of the forgettable comic, Elfont and Kaplan decided to use it as a springboard for a satirical comedy about mass market culture, peaking now along with countless teeny bopper bands. So, in Josie, you get lots of over-the-top product placement lurking in the back of every scene, as Josie and her pals discover that their oily British manager and the neurotic woman running the record company (Alan Cumming and Parker Posey, both hamming it up to the hilt) are using their recordings to send subliminal messages urging teens to buy various products. Consumerism is an easy target, yet it could always use a healthy skewering, especially in a film aimed at impressionable teens. But Josie's expected lightness undermines any real satirical content: Tara Reid's dumb blonde schtick is tired, and there are too many self-referential jokes and slapstick gags that just don't work. In the end, Elfont and Kaplan dull whatever edge they started with, and go for the usual love-conquers-all cop-out. I couldn't help but be disappointed that somehow these two managed to talk Universal and MGM into coughing up millions of dollars for an anti-corporate comedy, yet their own script loses its bite. In this respect, it's like Fight Club for teenage girls.

JULIEN DONKEY-BOY (US, Harmony Korine)
I'm one of the 10% who found Korine's first feature Gummo a masterpiece. The other 90% of those who watched it thought it was utter garbage. If you fall into the latter category, bypass this review. Anyway, julien donkey-boy is Korine's riff on the Danish "Dogme 95" style of filmmaking: handheld camera, only available lighting, no post production sound or camera work, etc. It's a messy, occasionally brilliant but often blah collage of digital video imagery that follows around a New Jersey schizophrenic (the titular julien, played by Trainspotting's Ewen Bremner) and his dysfunctional family. Chloe Sevigny is good, as always, as his pregnant sister (assumedly knocked up by julien) and German director Werner Herzog is absolutely hilarious as their deadpan tyrant father. Definitely more of an art piece than typical multiplex fodder, there is a lot of good stuff going on here, but it never matches the cohesiveness or the depth of Gummo - and frankly, Bremner may be doing a very realistic take on a hyperactive, babbling schizophrenic, but that doesn't make him any less annoying. Several intriguing scenes are often ruined by his actorly histrionics.

JUNO (US, Jason Reitman)
I did not have high expectations going into Juno, mainly because I had been forced to sit through the trailer a million times and was subjected to a barrage of self-consciously cutesy-clever dialogue by a debut screenwriter with the self-consciously cutesy-clever moniker of Diablo Cody (real name: Brook Busey-Hunt). The fact that stripper-blogger-screenwriter Cody has been force-fed to the independent film-going public as the new flavor of the month also didn't bode well. But I figured I should see Juno just to have an informed opinion. And I wound up liking the film - about a smart-alecky teen (the titular Juno, played by Ellen Page) who gets knocked up by her gawky boyfriend (Superbad's Michael Cera) and decides to adopt the baby out - very much. Sure, Cody is still guilty of that dialogue, but the worst is in the trailer and the rest eventually dissipates so that the characters can be themselves and speak their true feelings. Cody has, in fact, fashioned both excellent characters and a well-told story. Director Jason Reitman, whose own debut, the overrated Thank You for Smoking, had some directorial flourishes that could be classified as self-consciously cutesy-clever as well, also tones down the visual quirks, much to the movie's benefit. Although I think it's unintentional, there's some smart structural work here, distracting the audience with glib patter and wacky production design, only to surprise with genuine heart and soul. This is stuff that Wes Anderson continues to attempt, and in my opinion fails at. So good for Reitman, Cody and their strong cast in succeeding on this level. (The trailer hints at some Anderson-like visual staging that was cut from the final product. I have a feeling that Fox Searchlight requested a number of such cuts, to make for a more heartfelt and less zany movie: The Office's Rainn Wilson, who's saddled with some of Cody's most egregious lines (e.g., "That ain't no Etch-a-Sketch. That's one doodle that can't be undid, home skillet") only has one scene, and evidence suggests that he was in at least one or two more that wound up on the cutting room floor.) I'm aware that some may not get past the quirk - the soundtrack by eccentric lesbian singer/songwriter Kimya Dawson absolutely screams "quirky" - but I'm happily surprised that I did. Extra credit is due to Michael Cera's sweet, no-nonsense performance. I liked him from the start even as it took me a while to get around to admiring Page's smirky performance. Once the smirk is wiped off her face, this young Canadian actress - who filmmakers and handlers have been prepping for stardom for over two years now - delivers a very affecting performance. I'm not sure if I would be writing such a rave review if my expectations were higher - I call this the Die Hard phenomenon, where a movie catches you off guard with its entertainment value - and I still wouldn't give Cody's script an A, given its trying-too-hard-to-be-quotable dialogue and its occasional plot hole. But there's a lot to like and Page and Cera have wonderful chemistry. Also putting in unexpectedly strong performances are Jason Bateman and Jennifer Garner as the would-be adoptive parents, who have their own problems to deal with. They are very well-written and well-performed characters who transcend the stereotypes they seem to be at first glance. All in all, a charming little human comedy that deserves most, though not all, of the hype.