by Jeffrey M. Anderson 

Lisa Cholodenko's well-received 1998 debut High Art was a major landmark for lesbian filmmaking in the '90s, even if the writer-director makes films more to please herself than to fill any LGBT niches. After moving from New York to Los Angeles (where she shot 2002's titularly set ensemble drama Laurel Canyon—which, coincidentally, was centered around straight people), dealing with distribution troubles and working in television (directing episodes of The L Word and the short-lived Push, Nevada), the 46 year-old auteur returns to the big screen with her finest and most widely released effort yet, The Kids Are All Right.

By John Esther

The New York Times' Stephen Holden certainly adored Adoration: "A profound and provocative exploration of cultural inheritance, communications technology and the roots and morality of terrorism, the Canadian filmmaker Atom Egoyan nimbly wades into an ideological minefield without detonating an explosion." Here's a synopsis from the official site:

High school French teacher Sabine (Egoyan's wife and frequent collaborator Arsinée Khanjian) gives her class a translation exercise based on a real news story about a terrorist who plants a bomb in the airline luggage of his pregnant girlfriend. The assignment has a profound effect on one student, Simon (Devon Bostwick), who lives with his uncle. In the course of translating, Simon re-imagines that the news item is his own family's story, with the terrorist standing in for his father. Years ago, Simon's father crashed the family car, killing both himself and his wife, making Simon an orphan. Simon has always feared that the accident was intentional. Simon reads his version to the class and then takes it to the Internet. In essence, he has created a false identity which allows him to probe his family secret. As Simon uses his new persona to journey deeper into his past, the public reaction is swift and strong. Then an exotic woman reveals her true identity. The truth about Simon's family emerges. The mystery is solved and a new family is formed.

John Esther chatted with Egoyan on April 24, to some known as "Recognize the Armenian Genocide Day," an annual event protesting the continued denial of the 1915-1916 massacre of an estimated 1.5 million Armenians at the hands of the Turkish government, a theme explored in Egoyan's 2002 film Ararat.

Adoration is now out on DVD.

Julia
Directed by Erick Zonca
2008, 144 Minutes, In English and Spanish

How did The Dreamlife of Angels director Erick Zonca, working from a script he cowrote with Aude Py, think that the typically reserved, sophisticated Tilda Swinton could so convincingly step into the shoes of a despicable, loudmouthed floozy? An unhinged character study that drunkenly stumbles into an accidental thriller, Julia is shouldered as much by Zonca's instinctual filmmaking as it does on Swinton's intense, knock-out performance:

Julia, 40, is an alcoholic. She is a manipulative, unreliable, compulsive liar, all strung out beneath her still flamboyant exterior. Between shots of vodka and one-night stands, Julia gets by on nickel-and-dime jobs. Increasingly lonely, the only consideration she receives comes from her friend Mitch, who tries to help her. But she shrugs him off, as her alcohol-induced confusion daily reinforces her sense that life has dealt her a losing hand and that she is not to blame for the mess she has made of it. Glimpsing imminent perdition, and after a chance encounter with Elena, a Mexican woman, Julia convinces herself—as much in panic and despair as for financial gain—to commit a violent act. As the story unfolds, Julia's journey becomes a headlong flight on a collision course, but somehow she makes the choice of life over death.

Sitting down with Zonca (and a translator he barely needed) at the Magnolia offices, I drank up his every word on alcoholism, unlikeable characters, the Helmut Newton photo that stuck in his mind, why he's different from Ken Loach, and of course, Tilda Swinton—with whom I would also chat about Julia in that same room a week later.

To listen to the podcast, click here.

Julia is now out on DVD.

By Andrew Grant

[NB: Sion Sono was in New York last week for the New York Asian Film Festival, promoting his two latest films, Love Exposure and Be Sure to Share. I had a chance to sit down with him and discuss these films as well as his career as a whole, but our time was cut short owing to an overbooked schedule. Our too-brief interview was mostly spent discussing Love Exposure.—Andrew Grant]

Japanese director Sion Sono is fascinated with borderlines. Whether addressing love and hate, good and evil, the individual versus society, or even the distinction between art and commerce, it's the precarious balance between the two that defines and runs through most of his work.

Though he's directed nearly twenty films over the past thirty years, Sono's work remains relatively unknown in the States outside of the fanboy/J-Horror circle, with whom he made a splash in 2001 with the cult film Suicide Club. Several other titles have found a life on DVD, but unlike his peer Takashi Miike, he's never found acceptance from the arthouse crowd. However, that may change with Love Exposure, his 2008 four-hour near-masterpiece that has been picking up praise and awards at festivals worldwide, and which was a surprise hit at the Japanese box office.