dir. Neil LaButeThe latest film by the laureate of sexual embarrassment flips the script somewhat by arguing that women are just as capable of being complete pricks as men are. Schlubby Adam (Paul Rudd) and hottie Evelyn (Rachel Weisz) have an unlikely affair, during which Adam loses weight, gets a nose job, dresses better, and ditches his friends--all at Evie's behest. But this self-improvement campaign comes at a price that only the most insecure paranoiac alive could swallow (much less predict). LaBute's climax retroactively changes the entire film, causing the troubling theatrical conceits that have gone before (Adam and Evelyn--get it?) to seem like intentional diversions, and forcing the audience to decide whether or not what it has just seen was a filmed play or some kind of Skinner box. I must say that the big twist pissed me off initially, in much the same way that the surprise in Fight Club did. Afterward, however, I found myself wrestling with the film for days. SEAN NELSON

The Dancer Upstairs

dir. John MalkovichSet in an unnamed Latin American country, The Dancer Upstairs attempts to be a timeless story of a good cop stuck in a bad system, set against a background of guerrilla terrorism and beautiful cinematography. Adapted from the book of the same name, the film focuses on Agustin Rejas (Javier Bardem), said good cop, who is investigating a spiraling terrorist group headed by Ezequiel, a crazed philosopher who has no qualms using small children as suicide bombers. As the movie slowly unfolds (key word: slowly), it becomes clear that the government Rejas works for is only slightly less cracked than the kamikaze force that attempts to overthrow it. As he works under the pressure of capturing Ezequiel before it's too late, Rejas finds refuge in an affair with his daughter's ballet instructor, an awkward romance that's intensified as rapidly as it's introduced.

With its sweeping images of foreign lands, and its dramatic relevance to past and present political situations--Ezequiel's group is modeled after Peru's Shining Path--The Dancer Upstairs is the kind of movie you want to like because of its high ambition. But unfortunately, after all the buildup, the loose ends are tied too quickly, and Rejas' final sacrifice is too massive to be reconciled with the plot leading up to it. JENNIFER MAERZ

Lilya 4-ever

dir. Lukas MoodyssonLukas Moodysson--the director of Together, a warm comedy about a 1970s Swedish hippie commune struggling to resolve minor internal, external, personal, and political contradictions--is the last director I'd expect to make a film as difficult and brutal as Lilya 4-ever, which is about a 16-year-old Estonian girl who is abandoned by the entire universe--her history, her nation, her city, the welfare system, her relatives, her mother, and finally God.

There is no hope whatsoever for Lilya (Oksana Akinshina). This is apparent from the very start of the film; things are not just going to get worse, but fall all the way down to the bottom of life. Lilya's only friend in the whole fucking world is a glue-sniffing 14-year-old boy (Artiom Bogucharskij) who dreams of the impossible: becoming an NBA star like Michael Jordan. Lilya also has her impossible American dreams: She, with creepy connotations, identifies with the teen pop star Britney Spears, and with sexy makeup and a very short dress she is something of a mini-Spears. But unlike Britney Spears, she is not on the better, receiving end of capitalism; in fact, she is not even a consumer--she is something that is consumed with no or very little compensation. She is a slave.

Without her mother, Lilya must make money with all that she has left: her body, which is precisely all that a slave ever has--his or her body. If she doesn't use her body, then she will starve to death. The economy of Estonia is devastated by the fall of the Soviet Union, there is no real law, gangsters and thugs rule streets, and creepy old men can have their darkest desires serviced at any time for very little.

But prostitution in Lilya's native city is a light matter when compared to what she has to face in Sweden, where she is kidnapped by her "boyfriend." There, Swedish men from every level of the wealthy, capitalist society rape her for a fee they pay to what has to be the most monstrous pimp in all of cinema. Lilya 4-ever is so grim, so dark, with no hope for respite or light, that near the end you want Lilya to exit the world, to say "Fuck you" to God and humankind and jump off a bridge. Life is not always worth living. CHARLES MUDEDE

City of Ghosts

dir. Matt DillonMatt Dillon makes his directorial debut, and the results are astounding...ly pedestrian. Dillon, a likable actor, is known for his catalog of vaguely stupid ne'er-do-wells who nonetheless somehow find their way out of danger, and he directs like he acts. This dirty tale of a con man (Dillon) on the run to Cambodia after bilking hurricane victims out of money for dubious disaster insurance is attractive, but dumber than it seems. For all the noir drama and thrill of the chase such a premise offers, the film spends more time sweating in bloated, drunk Gerard Depardieu's bar than it does running through the fetid back alleys of a tense screenplay. Dillon does good work with the actors: James Caan appears as Dillon's boss, and turns in his first performance in years in which every scene isn't a chest-thumping pissing contest. Unfortunately, Caan's charm and Dillon's good looks--you can tag the movie as Dillon's own when he's beaten up by street thugs and becomes better-looking--can't compensate for an overlong and underdeveloped narrative. However, afterward I took the most satisfying shower, and that ain't bad. MATTHEW SOUTHWORTH