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Capsule reviews by Thomas Delapa (TD) as indicated.

Al Franken: God Spoke

Live from New York and points west, it's former Saturday Night Live comic Al Franken, the left-wing gadfly and political satirist. Chris Doob and Chris Hegedus' cameras religiously follow Franken around in 2004, during the launch of his Air America radio network and the final months of Bush/Kerry presidential race. Feisty, quick-witted and quixotic, Franken takes on such right-wing blowhards as Bill O'Reilly, Ann Coulter and Sean Hannity. A burr in the pro-Bush saddle, Franken even has the temerity to crash a Newsweek party thrown for a herd of old-guard Republicans, including Henry Kissinger. Ironically, it was the god-like Kissinger who once saw the "light at the end of the tunnel" during the height of the unwinnable Vietnam War. In 2006 Iraq, the blinding light at the end of the tunnel looks increasingly like an oncoming train of trained terrorists. Unrated. At Boulder Theater. — TD

American Hardcore

No X-rated expose, American Hardcore aspires to be the definitive documentary on the 1980s underground punk-rock scene born in the U.S.A. It was a meteoric movement, fueled by teen angst, hormones and Reagan-era malaise. These do-it-yourself bands had garages but no record labels. They played loud, fast and angry. And they hated Fleetwood Mac. Both elegy and road trip, Paul Rachman's raw documentary—based on a Steven Blush's 2001 book—tracks the rise and fall of Black Flag, Bad Brains, Minor Threat and dozens of other lesser bands on both coasts and points in between. For the record, Rachman's punk-rockology has its cracks. While he worships at the altar of Henry Rollins and Black Flag, he excludes such key West Coast bands as X and the Dead Kennedys. Admittedly, Rachman's eye is on the underground dwellers, but how can he cover New York City punk rockers without even a gabba-gabba-hey to the Ramones? As much tribal as musical, 1980s hardcore took a cue from John Derek in Knock on Any Door: Live fast, die young and leave a good-looking corpse. Band members grew up and moved on. Some bands were just street gangs with guitars. The hardcore violence was a bummer. For all its supposed political thrust, it was hardcore that got soft. By 1984, the scene was in eclipse. The same year, Ronald Reagan's "Morning in America" won re-election by a landslide.

For a look at the L.A. punk-rock scene as it was breaking, Penelope Spheeris' The Decline of Western Civilization (1981) still gets a thumb's up. Rated R. At Mayan. — TD

Catch a Fire

Had Phillip Noyce's anti-apartheid drama been released twenty years ago, it would have had a better chance of catching on with audiences. It's the true story of Patrick Chamusso (Derek Luke), a black South African who joins the terrorist underground after he and his wife (Bonnie Henna) are tortured by the police. Noyce and screenwriter Shawn Slovo light the embers of contemporary relevance by showing us that government torture and abuse of suspected terrorists can backfire, as it does with Chamusso. As we should know by now, one man's terrorist is another man's freedom fighter. Noyce's taut direction slackens with the reductive confrontation between Chamusso and a police colonel (Tim Robbins). Robbins' cold stare might melt ice, but otherwise his acting burns with no particular passion. Rated PG-13. At Flatiron, Colony Square, Landmark Crossroads. —TD

Deliver Us from Evil

See full review in Screen. Rated R. At Starz Film Center.

The Departed

Jack Nicholson, Leonardo DiCaprio, Matt Damon and a cast of seven robbing hoods. The Boston underworld. Director Martin Scorsese. Now that you've seen the ads and trailers for The Departed, I know what all you wiseguys are thinking: A mob movie in the tradition of GoodFellas. Well, you can fuhgetaboutit. Redolent of four-letter words, Scorsese's flatulent Boston massacre doesn't amount to hill of beans. Count me among those who wished to depart from The Departed before it was over. Perhaps still smarting from The Aviator's Oscar snub, Scorsese has landed with bloody vengeance back on his home turf in the gangster flick. But this is easily his worst film since Cape Fear. How bad is GoodFellas Does Boston? So bad that even Nicholson is a deadly bore. With Alec Baldwin, Mark Wahlberg and Vera Farmiga. Rated R. At Flatiron, Colony Square, Landmark Crossroads, —TD

Employee of the Month

We've all been there: working at a dead end job at some soul-crusing corporation, when in walks a hotter than hot hottie who has a fetish for the employee of the month. What's a guy to do? Well, if you're Dane Cook, you gather up your loser friends and you fight for the right to get a little second base action. It's not a smart movie but it is a funny movie. With Jessica Simpson and Dax Shepard. Rated PG-13. At Flatiron.

Flags of Our Fathers

Though Flags unfurls as a patriotic World War II movie, it doesn't take long to realize that flag-waving is the furthest thing from director Clint Eastwood's mind. Now Eastwood and his writers have nothing but respect for the American G.I. Joe. But Clint is a fighting man from head to toe when it comes to civilians, politicians, PR flacks and bureaucrats. Eastwood's campaign begins on the Pacific island of Iwo Jima, site of one of the bloodiest battles of the war. No small feat, the exceptional first 30 minutes of this movie rank with the riveting opening of Saving Private Ryan. But Flags flags as soon as Eastwood shifts into attack mode. A barrage of finger-pointing flashbacks fill us in on the events following the famous photo of six soldiers planting a U.S. flag atop the island. With Adam Beach, Ryan Phillippe and Jesse Bradford. Rated R. At Flatiron, Colony Square, —TD

Flicka

You go, cowgirl. Modernized from Mary O'Hara's classic family novel, this girl-and-her-horse story should have stayed in the stable. On a Wyoming ranch far from Brokeback Mountain, free-spirited Katy (Alison Lohman) finds a friend in Flicka, a wild mustang that refuses to be broken. Saddled with a stern daddy (country star Tim McGraw), Katy is determined to tame Flicka, even if it takes a few broken bones. Instead of Hara's novel, Michael Myer seems like he's directing a Marlboro commercial minus the cigarettes. Lohman tries her darnedest to put some spirit in this rustic Flicka flick, but she's burned by the buckboard-wooden dialogue and by McGraw, who better keep the reins on his day job. Rated PG. At Colony Square. —TD

The Last King of Scotland

There are no kings––nor kilts––to be found in The Last King of Scotland. First and foremost, what you will find is a powerful performance by Forest Whitaker as Idi Amin, the Ugandan despot who lorded over the deaths of over 300,000 of his countrymen in the 1970s. For a movie about Amin, director Kevin Macdonald spends a kingly amount of time on a character invented by novelist Giles Foden. Young Scottish doctor Nicholas Garrigan (James McAvoy) comes to Uganda on a lark. After a chance meeting, Garrigan becomes Amin's personal doctor and advisor. Whitaker dynamically gets his teeth into Amin, capturing the schizoid conscience of a would-be king. Given Whitaker's dominating presence, it's a coup that Macdonald would keep him waiting in the wings for several scenes. With Kerry Washington and Gillian Anderson. Rated R. At Landmark Crossroads, Mayan. — TD

Little Miss Sunshine

Maybe all you need to know about Little Miss Sunshine is that it was a big Sundance hit, joining such spotty Park City favorites as The Devil and Daniel Johnston and Hustle and Flow. At Sundance, any movie that even hints of American dysfunctionalism usually works like a charm. Not that Sunshine isn't streaked with laughs. Greg Kinnear shines as a motivational speaker whose positive thinking is a big negative on his family. Elsewhere, co-directors Jonathan Dayton and Valerie Faris' road comedy swerves between lead-footed satire and sputtering farce. Standing as a ray of hope against the Hoover family's dysfunction is Olive (Abigail Breslin), whose American dream is to be a beauty queen. She gets her chance when California's "Little Miss Sunshine" pageant comes calling. With Toni Collette, Steve Carell and Alan Arkin. Rated R. At Mayan. —TD

Man of the Year

Doing his imitation of Ralph Nader in 2000, Robin Williams is impeachably unfunny as Tom Dobbs, a cable-TV comic who makes a run for the U.S. presidency. In director Barry Levinson's sloppy political satire, Dobbs wins the White House owing to a freak coalition of voter disaffection and a sinister cyber-vote fraud. Leading with dirty jokes and schmaltz, Williams has all the edge of Tom DeLay at a Greenpeace convention. Levinson's direction is so lame, even the normally reliable Christopher Walken runs aground in a supporting role. With Laura Linney. Rated PG-13. At Flatiron, Colony Square. — TD

Marie Antoinette

Sacre bleu! No matter how you slice it, Sophia Coppola's Marie Antoinette is so dull and pointless, it put me into a French Revolutionary mood, and I'm not even French. Forget the liberty, equality and fraternity stuff. Let's just get to, "Off with their heads!" In Coppola's bubblegum history, the infamous Antoinette (Kirsten Dunst) is just an 18th-century Austrian girl who wants to have fun. Betrothed at age 14 to France's future Louis XVI (Jason Schwartzman), Marie leaves her homeland behind and goes to live in the fairy-tale palace at Versailles. Though Coppola bases her script on a book by Antonia Fraser, the Lost in Translation director's attitude toward her audience echoes the frosty remark attributed to her royal subject: Let them eat cake. Given the spectacular backdrop of Versailles as her playpen, Coppola reduces history into a pop Halloween party. Rated PG-13. At Flatiron, Landmark Crossroads. —TD

Open Season

Home is where the heart is, especially if you're Boog, a grizzly bear who lives in a kindly ranger's garage. But Boog has to grow up in a hurry when he's exiled to the forest during hunting season with a trouble-making deer named Elliot. In its first animated film, Sony Pictures bags a warm and fuzzy comedy stocked with cute critters and gentle lessons about leaving the nest. In any season, kids will cozy up to the wild finale that has Boog and his animal army finally gaining Bambi's revenge against a horde of trigger-happy hunters. Voices by Martin Lawrence, Ashton Kutcher, Debra Messing, et al. Rated PG. At Flatiron, Colony Square. — TD

The Prestige

No, your eyes aren't playing tricks on you. On the heels of The Illusionist, Hollywood has materialized another movie about Victorian-era magicians. Christian Bale and Hugh Jackman play London prestidigitators whose bitter rivalry escalates into murder. Or so it would seem. Director Christopher Nolan (Memento) conjures up extravagant sets and an intriguing set-up that builds on the mutual obsession of Bale and Jackman to one-up each other. In the magic trade, the "prestige" is the concluding part of the act. You may conclude that Nolan has nothing special up his sleeve in this hazy smoke-and-mirrors drama, especially in Jackman's climactic trick that's too sci-fi and fantastic to be believed. With Michael Caine, Scarlett Johansson and David Bowie. Rated PG. At Flatiron, Colony Square, UA Village 4. — TD

The Queen

All hail Helen Mirren. As Queen Elizabeth II, Mirren gives a commanding performance that cries out for an Oscar, if not for a star-studded crown. In director Stephen Frears' uncommonly fine docudrama, we're transported to the court of the Queen of England in 1997, during the upheaval surrounding the death of Princess Diana. Playing opposite the queen as loyal foil is Tony Blair (Michael Sheen), the newly elected Labor Prime Minister. Mixing People magazine and Shakespearean people, Peter Morgan's juicy script aims to please, but it does so with pomp and circumstance. Bows and curtsies are in order for Frears' cast, from Mirren and Sheen to American actor James Cromwell as Prince Phillip and Helen McCrory as Blair's cheeky wife. With Dame Helen on the throne, one thing is for sure: She rules. Rated PG-13. At Landmark, Chez Artiste. —TD

Running with Scissors

See full review in Screen. Rated R. At Flatiron, United Artist Village 4.

The Science of Sleep

Director Michael Gondry (Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind) plays head games again in an unhinged exploration of the secret life of a dreamer. Gael Garcia Bernal stars as Stephane, new to Paris and newly in love with his next-door neighbor (Charlotte Gainsbourg). In opposition to his boring office job, Stephane's dreams work overtime, sometimes spilling over in the real world. Stephane's dreams are a Freudian playpen for Gondry, who illustrates them with bizarre props, whimsical animation and "one-second time machines." Maybe Gondry should have put a little more science in his fantasy of unrequited love, because little about it feels grounded in anything real. With all of Gondry's visual inventiveness, you'll have no trouble staying awake during Science of Sleep. But like most dreams, you're liable to forget about it in the morning. Rated R. At Esquire. —TD

Who Killed the Electric Car?

Want to hear a dirty story about a clean car? I'm talking about the shocking obituary delivered by director Chris Paine in Who Killed the Electric Car? If you need another reason to distrust the U.S. auto and oil industries, Paine's expose should give you a jolt. In 1990, California mandated that, by 1998, 2% of new vehicles in the state would have to produce zero emissions. In response, General Motors launched its electric prototype, the EV1, in 1996. The car was quiet, fast and sleek, and relatively maintenance-free. So now you're asking yourself, "Where can I get me one of those neat EVs?" Well, you can't. In 2000, GM pulled the plug on the EV, despite vociferous protests from many lessees. Most of the cars suspiciously met their deaths in the Arizona desert, crushed like also-rans in the demolition derby. At International Film Series. —TD

WEEKLY VIDEO PICK

Airplane (1980) Roger, Roger. Fasten your seat belts, it's going to be a bumpy flight. Robert Hays, Julie Hagerty, Robert Stack, Peter Graves, Lloyd Bridges, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar and Leslie ("Don't call me Shirley") Nielsen take off in still the funniest and most inspired of the madcap genre spoofs. For every dumb or tasteless David Zucker, Jim Zucker and David Abrahams joke that doesn't fly, a dozen land directly at Laugh Central. In this send-up of Airport, Saturday Night Fever, From Here to Eternity, Zero Hour and a squadron of other films, Hays plays an ex-fighter pilot forced to take the controls of an airliner bound from L.A. to Chicago. The DVD "Don't Call Me Shirley Edition" features commentary by Abrahams and the Zuckers. Rated R. —TD