Steven Soderbergh’s The Good German (2006) is a film noir set in Berlin during the months immediately following the surrender in 1945. The film mainly occurs in July and August. Soderbergh makes excellent use of documentary footage from Berlin in those months. The setting is one of complete devastation, of chaos and disorder. The Potsdam Conference is about to occur, and uncertainty about how Germany will be reorganized, and about how many Germans will be indicted for war crimes, is a constant subtext.

Other themes in the film have to do with the tensions that characterized international relations for the latter half of the twentieth century, especially the impending cold war and nuclear competition between the U.S. and U.S.S.R. A basic question, investigated from numerous vantage points, is one of responsibility: who is responsible, who must bear blame? — for the War, for the atrocities against the Jews and other groups, for the nuclear threat, for a developing schism between East and West, for a general breakdown in fundamental human decency. The film’s black and white cinematography creates continuity between the documentary footage and the fictional portions of the film — it’s difficult to distinguish them.

The Good German is about the efforts of American and Soviet officials to locate a missing man named Emil Brandt. He was supposedly the secretary of a German rocket scientist whom both the Americans and Soviets want to enlist to build weapons for them. In fact, the Americans already have him in secret custody. We are told that he wants his secretary to accompany him to America, and that for this reasons the Americans want to find him. Although Brandt was reported to have died in the war, he may still be alive. And there may be other reasons why the Americans want him. The film centers on efforts to locate Brandt, and on the characters involved in the search. Like many films in this genre, the motivations and the credibility of characters constantly shift throughout the film.

With Tobey Maguire, George Clooney, Beau Bridges, and Cate Blanchett among the leading cast members, The Good German offers good acting. Maguire does present difficulties. Sincerity and good old American boyishness are basic traits of the Maguire persona. In this film he plays a driver, Patrick Tully, who is exploiting the chaotic post-war situation to his own benefit. He makes clear that money is all that matters to him — the measure of all things. He sells counterfeit goods to the highest bidder and attempts to sell to the Russians the husband of the woman who is his mistress. She is Lena (Blanchett), the wife of Emil Brandt. Tully is nothing more than a gangster who abuses Lena and viciously beats up Clooney, whom he serves as a driver. Yet at a moment’s notice he can transform into the midwestern American boy-soldier, innocent, wide-eyed, and eager to get back to his family and his girl. The fact that he doesn’t know where Brandt is doesn’t matter to Tully. It’s difficult to divorce the characters Maguire usually plays from this one. With his boyish high-pitched voice, sometimes his character doesn’t seem real; at other times he seems all the more sordid and evil.

When Tully’s body washes up on the bank of a river, Clooney investigates the murder. He’s a military reporter, Jake Geismar, who had an affair with Lena before the war and who now wants to help her, or he wants to restart the affair, or he has some other reason — his motives are not entirely clear, but he does come to realize that the Americans assigned Tully to be his driver because they knew of his affair with Lena and wanted Geismar to help them find her husband. Clooney basically plays the same character in every movie he is in, but his persona — that of the manly, easygoing, sometimes brash American — serves him well.

There is a caustic edge to his character here. He’s irritated with the military bureaucracy, especially when he begins to believe it is assisting in the cover-up of a murder it may have instigated. He’s also bothered that the Americans are attempting to enlist the services of a Nazi rocket scientist (similar to Von Braun). Both the Americans and the Russians seem willing to do anything necessary to win this scientist’s services, and this includes covering up crimes more horrendous than one man’s murder. It is, in fact, the nature of these crimes that make the Americans want to find Brandt — to go further would ruin the film, but the outcome is hardly as straightforward as I suggest here. Clooney sometimes seems to be mimicking Humphrey Bogart, especially when he continually insists that it was his stringer he was sleeping with before the war, not his secretary.

The film’s title resonates with several levels of irony that change in meaning at key points. There is probably not a single good German, or any other kind of person, in the film.

The final scene seems a direct replication of the ending of Casablanca (with a few minor notes from The Maltese Falcon thrown in for good measure). Yet there is a difference. In the Bogart film Rick gives up the woman he loves for the larger sake of the Allied cause in the war. In The Good German, Clooney gives up the woman he loves because he can’t accept her behavior during the war, and because he wants to avoid dirtying himself by association. He’s guilty enough as it is, along with every other character, along with the Americans and the Soviets and the Germans.

In the end, The Good German criticizes American willingness to hire ex-Nazis to design and build its weapons following the end of the war. The criticism is valid, of course, but one might well ask what alternative there was. If the Americans didn’t recruit German scientists, they would have gone over to the Soviet side, and in fact both sides did more than their share of welcoming former Nazi scientists to their weapons-building efforts. An alternative would have been placing the scientists on trial for their war crimes. And of course the Russians and Americans could have decided not to develop nuclear weapons and delivery systems, but this film concerns the realities of the 1940s, not should-have-been fantasies.

The Russian and American emphasis following the war’s end, sharpened by the double nuclear bombing in Japan, was on preparing for the new world order. In this regard The Good German is glib and simplistic in its indictment of American willingness to employ Nazi scientists and (by extension) to develop a nuclear weapons program. Or maybe not. Maybe it is simply calling for recognition that American actions following the war’s end implicated us in some of the worst crimes associated with the conflict.

The fact that one director could make this film and Oceans 13 within a single year is a tribute to Soderbergh’s versatility.

On Wednesday's General Hospital:

Sam planned to put an end to the harassment from his mother about dating Lainey by sabotaging their first date by setting it on the roof in the scorching heat and serving beer and burgers. Lainey was up for the challenge, taking everything Stan threw at her, and confronting him over his unwillingness to give her a chance. It wasn't all that long ago Lainey was as disinterested in Stan as he was in her. Is all it took for her to change her tune was for him to be vocal about not thinking they were a good fit?

Patrick and Robin defiantly went against Dr. Ford and operated on an indigent patient (without health insurance) instead of sending him to County. Ford warned they will be punished for the infraction this time. General Hospital: Night Shift premieres on Soapnet tonight at 11:00 pm. where Patrick and Robin are both 'sentenced' to work the ER's night shift for three months for going against hospital policy.

Carly called out Alexis, almost daring her to just ask Jerry out instead of pining for him. I have a feeling there's much more to Carly pushing these two together than was apparent. Later, Ric called Alexis and Jerry to his office to discuss the case, where Jerry slipped he was more than willing to go on the date Carly had suggested – sending Ric off in a tizzy. As Alexis bitingly pointed out to her ex, it wouldn't be the first time she's dated a psychopath.

A conflicted Cooper warned Sonny that Ric was well aware of the shipment he's landing and that he has been ordered to stop it and bust any officers that appear to be working for him. When asked what he should do, Sonny told Cooper that if Ric trusts him, he's his most valuable asset and he should do everything he's ordered to do. Logan, on the other hand was given no warning, and Sonny told Max, "if he's lost in the cross-fire, oh well." (So much for Logan being a valuable asset.) As expected, gunfire broke out when police clashed with Sonny's men. When pushed, Cooper shot at Logan at episode's end.

On Thursday's GH:

• Sonny clashes with Carly. Maxie and Lulu go round and round. Robin and Patrick are moved to the Emergency Room's night shift for three months.

Wife, mother, aspiring novelist, and music editor at BC Magazine, Connie Phillips spends most of her time in a fantasy land of her own creating. In reality, she writes about music, television, and the process of writing, when she’s not cheering on her kids at equestrian events. Contact: Phillips.connie@gmail.com

The producers of So You Think You Can Dance (SYTYCD) invited Blogcritics Magazine to go behind the scenes and attend a taping of tonight’s show.

For those not in the know, SYTYCD, now in its third season, was born in 2005 as an inferior American Idol knockoff, but slowly blossomed into a guilty pleasure, and has since evolved into the best reality series on television. Even if, like me, you have an irrational hatred of the pasa doble and too many left feet to master the macarena, this show will make like a mustache and grow on you.

Week after week, the show spotlights young dancers – from ballet dancers to b-boys – performing superbly choreographed routines in genres that span the chasm between krumping and quickstep. This season, the producers have also effectively highlighted the personalities of the dancers such that Thursday’s elimination show is a weekly exercise in heartbreak.

Unlike other reality shows that celebrate humiliation, showcase obnoxious personalities, or force contestants to compete in pointless battles, SYTYCD is the rare show that celebrates improvement, showcases talent, and forces contestants to compete in the realm in which they aspire to retire. The judges are brutally honest but, in contrast to Idol, rarely take delight in stabbing contestants in the heart.

The only thing this writer was unsure about is whether this reality show actually represents reality.

After all, each week, dancers are forced to perform partner routines in genres often outside their element. Imagine a breaker, with no formal training, doing lifts in a contemporary tale or syncopated steps in a foxtrot routine that she only had a few hours to learn. Surely, one would expect to see mangled flips, tangled arms, or strangled necks. Yet, this season, the bloopers and blunders were nonexistent.

Ever the skeptic, I imagined that FOX, which does not air the performance show live, allows retakes until each team delivers the best possible performance of the routine.

I was wrong. And now, I am in further awe of the contestants.

As I entered Stage 46 in CBS Television City, I immediately sensed the community and the cult status that this show has engendered. I passed celebrities like Vanessa Williams and Kids in the Hall comedian Scott Thompson, who were obviously big fans. I spotted two of last season’s finalists, Donyelle Jones and Heidi Groskreutz, making the rounds with old friends, while two of this season’s eliminated contestants, Jimmy Arguello and Jesús Solorio, warmly embraced one another. Even two of the contestants' swing-dancing father, Buddy Schwimmer, who has become known for always holding an electronic LED sign while sitting in the audience, is greeted like a national celebrity.

As I took my seat, Corey, the show’s hypeman, rallied enthusiasm from the crowd. His duties were unnecessary, however, since all the rabid teenagers in the audience worshipped the dancers and screamed at the sight of any of them. Suddenly, I could imagine Beatlemania.

The audience frenzy never distracted me from the amazing fact that this two hour show practically taped in real time. Indeed, no routine was ever performed twice. Only a few pickups from beautiferous host Cat Deeley were ever recorded multiple times.

Up first, Lacey Schwimmer and Kameron Bink nailed the hustle but didn’t out-stun their previous weeks’ routines. Lacey’s bejeweled Wonder Woman headband also helped to distract from Kameron’s unsettling hair. Judging by the multiple Lacey signs around me, the fact that she has never landed in the bottom three, and her seemingly effortless performances, Lacey probably has the best odds of winning the competition … if not for the fact that her brother won last year.

Cedric Gardner, who is clearly the heart and soul of the competition, and partner Shauna Noland turned in a decent mambo that finally convinced judge Mary Murphy that Cedric deserves to stay in the competition. If you ask me, Cedric deserves to stay on the sole grounds that he is the only human who can dance in a way that creates the illusion that he has no bone in his lanky body. Cedric was clearly aided by the more experienced Shauna, who has the intense passion of Alex Owens, which is a Flashdance reference for those too young to remember that steel mill welders can make great exotic dancers.

Russian ballroom dancer Anya Garnis and ballet dancer Danny Tidwell performed a compelling contemporary routine that won rave reviews but also gave the judges an opportunity to point out that Danny’s ego appears to be cashing checks that his sculpted body can’t cash.

B-girl Sara Von Gillern and ballroom aficionado Pasha Kovalev then danced together for the first time since their respective partners were eliminated from last week’s merciless guillotine. Performing a west coast swing to Fatboy Slim’s “Rockafeller Skank,” the newly-formed duo turned in a clear crowd-pleaser.

Next, Sabra Johnson and Dominic Sandoval performed a romantic hip hop routine invented by Shane Sparks, who is undoubtedly the best hip hop choreographer alive today. Not only did Sabra and Dominic stun the crowd with a sexy performance, they seemed rather affectionate off-camera. (In case they’re already in committed relationships, I’ll give them the benefit of the doubt and say that they were just rehearsing their chemistry.) Undoubtedly, Dominic’s family, who was sitting in front of me wearing customized shirts with messages like “Vote For My Nephew – Dominic D-Trix,” were thrilled regardless.

The penultimate couple was Jaimie Goodwin and Hokuto “Hok” Konishi. Hok, the most mesmerizing and humble breaker to ever grace my television screen, looked uncomfortable even before the routine began. Dancing a waltz and dressed in a conservative vest, Hok survived the emotional routine, largely due to Hok's mantastic charisma and Jaimie’s spectacular lines.

Finally, if Neil Haskell and Lauren Gottlied don’t get eliminated this week, they only have one man to thank: choreographer Wade Robson, whose inventive routines have repeatedly mesmerized the judges and the audience. Neil and Lauren’s jazz stomp was easily the most well-received. Unfortunately, Lauren’s nonsensical remark that she pretends to be Asian will probably not play well.

The routines were so brilliantly executed that judge Mary Murphy, off camera, remarked that this was the best show she has seen in all three seasons. Guest judge Adam Shankman, who is the director and choreographer of the upcoming film, Hairspray, also seemed to fall deeper in love with the dancers.

The impact of this show, however, became most transparent when I left the studio. As I followed the crowd to the parking lot, I overheard another young audience member gush, “Oh my God, I can’t believe I touched Danny’s hand.”

This is a good example of what horror fans have to put up with. Horror fans all know about the good horror films that get everything firing on all cylinders, from acting, to story, to the all important scares. Horror fans all know about the bad horror films – the ones that are so inept that they wouldn't scare a child and are plagued by a bad story and even worse acting.

Then there are films such as The Hills Have Eyes II, which, for my money, does a lot of things right, but is tempered by the presence of some awful dialogue and acting. It has a story that we have seen before, but builds enough tension and delivers enough gore to keep us – or me at least – interested until the inevitable conclusion.

Way back in 1977, Wes Craven delivered a film that would become a cult classic. It was followed by a vastly inferior sequel in 1985. So it was inevitable that in this horror remake happy climate being cultivated in Hollywood that someone's dollar sign-filled eyes would turn towards these films. The result was the 2006 film The Hills Have Eyes, helmed by Alexandre Aja, who had proven himself with Haute Tension. The movie actually worked, bringing unease to the big screen. Then came this sequel, which takes the formula used to great effect in James Cameron's Aliens and sucks out everything that made it good, leaving behind just enough to keep the superficiality afloat. Oh yes, it is also not a remake of the original sequel, rather a sequel to the remake, and even then it is by title only. This could have been given a different title and no one would have known the difference.

In a nutshell, you have scientists working on a top secret project, attacked by mutants living in the caves. Rookie National Guardsmen are sent to investigate, they are attacked, and as their numbers dwindle, they must find a way to survive. Sound familiar? It could be used to describe any number of films. If you are going to watch this, you are not going to do it for the originality. Despite all of that, it has some nice cinematography, and a number of good gore effects. I was also happy with the genuine tension that it built up. Despite the awful acting and the predictability of the plot, I still found the survival horror base to be quite effective.

This time around Aja did not return. Instead the directorial reins were taken up by Martin Weisz, making the jump from music videos to the big screen. He does not bring anywhere near the style that Aja did, but still, it was effective enough for the mediocre script from Wes Craven and his son, Jonathan. Then there is the case of the cast, led by Michael McMillian doing his best impression of Eric Forman (Topher Grace from That 70s Show); they don't bring much to the table other than a series of mutant fodder. I think a good alternate title for this would have been Eric Forman Goes to War.

The Hills Have Eyes II is being released in an unrated form, which runs about a minute longer than the theatrical cut. The only change that I detected was a little more gore, nothing in the way of character development (ha) or plot (haha). Still, nothing wrong with a bit more guts.

Audio/Video. I cannot give a final say on the tech qualities as the copy I have for review is a burned promo copy. It does not look or sound bad, but I cannot attest to this being exactly the same as what will appear on store shelves when it is released.

Extras. This disk comes complete with a host of extras.

• Alternate Ending. A little different from what ended up being the ending, it is not bad, but I much prefer the chosen ending and the implication that no one made it out alive.
• Deleted Scenes. About three minutes spread over four scenes, none of which would have added much. My favorite of the lot is the one called "Missy Wakes Up."
• Gag Reel. 3.5 minutes of cut ups that really aren't all that funny.
• Featurette: "Mutants Attack." A 10 minute look into the mutants, their origins, and the mythology, and the effects design. It includes interviews with cast and crew, including Wes Craven.
• Birth of a Graphic Novel. A look into the graphic novel prequel that was designed for the new series. It is called The Hills Have Eyes: The Beginning, it is not an origin, but a tale before the filmed horrors. This runs north of 12 minutes.
• Featurette: Exploring the Hills – The Making of The Hills Have Eyes 2. This runs for about 13 minutes and has interviews with all the primary cast and crew, and is actually pretty decent, even if there is a lot of backslapping.
• Fox Movie Channel Presents: Life After Film School with Wes Craven. A conversation between Craven and three students on the making of the film. It is pretty interesting. This runs 10 minutes.
• Trailer. We get a trailer for the original remake, but not for the sequel, which had a great teaser.

Bottom line. I liked it; it is no masterpiece, it doesn't even live up to its predecessor, but it still has some tension and nice dose of blood and guts. You could do much, much worse than this. Definitely worth checking out, so long as you keep your expectations in check.

Recommended.

Christopher Beaumont spends much of his time writing about entertainment when he isn’t sitting in a movie theater. He is known around the office as the “Movie Guy” and is always ready to talk about his favorite form of entertainment and offer up recommendations. Interests include science fiction, horror, and metal music. His writings can be found at Draven99’s Musings, as well as Film School Rejects.

The Page Turner has a Patricia Highsmith-esque quality about it that makes what is a remarkably banal plot into a devious, delicious French thriller. Take the nature of the slight that results in the ensuing revenge story. A preteen girl, Melanie, fails a major musical examination when one of the judges, a professional pianist, signs an autograph in the middle of the girl’s session. The intrusion distracts the girl, making her lose her place, and ending her young career as a pianist.

Flash forward some eight years later. Melanie (Déborah François), now a young woman, takes an internship with a prestigious Parisian law firm. One of the lawyers is married to Ariane (Catherine Frot), the pianist who meet with a fan during Melanie’s audition. Melanie’s internship ends with the law firm, but she volunteers to watch the lawyer’s child while he is away and while Ariane prepares for a comeback concert. When Melanie gains Ariane’s trust and becomes her page turner, she holds Ariane’s career and life in her hands.

Gaining trust is one thing, but having Ariane believe in a love affair is another. The seduction is where Melanie’s truly conniving nature comes out and also where François truly shines. Her controlled meticulous performance gives the plot the measured suspense of the slow motion dropping of a guillotine.

The Page Tuner has the added bonus of being a mere 81 minutes in length, meaning the tangents, regressions and plot twists we’re so used to with Hollywood thrillers are absent. Though the film still doesn’t pack a punch to the gut like a Talented Mr. Ripley or Ripley’s Game, it does make me believe that Melanie has the quality to become a Tom Ripley.

I would love to see how she develops as a character beyond The Page Turner, though the likelihood of that happening is very small. Director Denis Dercourt proves with his calm, determined direction that he may have bigger fish to fry than making a sequel to his debut thriller. Regardless of if we see a second film, The Page Turner as a stand alone psychological thriller is worth delving into.

DVD Special Features:

• English and Spanish Subtitles
• Making of Featurette
• Original Theatrical Trailer

A lot of what people who watch this show have been asking for is starting to be realized. People are wanting the guys and gals to have some back story, to add character to these characters so we know why, for instance, Riley is such a complete loner, socially inept computer whiz or how Maureen or for that matter Painkiller Jane Vasco got into the law enforcement biz.

With a title like "Ghost In The Machine" you knew the general plot before it started, so there has to be something else going on.

Vasco visits Connor – brutish ex-cop, ex-prisoner – at his place, which looks like the inside of a garage. He has an urban motorbike in his front room, not a Harley, not a chopper.

"Nice hardware," she says.

"Damn right? … Oh, you mean the bike."

As McBride pages the team, the bike starts up and his foot gets snagged between the back tire and the engine. Luckily he's wearing industrial boots and remains uninjured before she reaches over to turn it off. He's impressed with bike knowledge.

Strikeforce Vicodin is breaking into a red garage door, but we don't know why. Riley has a major in to their work, being able to view everything. They're inside when suddenly a wall of sound breaks vases and makes Riley's screens go white noise. McBride's ears are bleeding as they break through a wall with hell's choir facing them. A semicircle group of Columbine goth look-alikes have their mouths wide open to cover the one guy making the noise. (And is this a different neuro because what the fuck?)

Jane, the least affected of them all, of course, figures out that the kid making the noise is the one farthest from the window because it hasn't broken yet. Oh-kay. Just a few minutes later, in slow-down mode, the garage door slams down on Connor's leg as he's stretching for something else. Coupled with burns from a coffee maker and the bike revving, Jane wonders whether something else is contributing to his accident proclivity.

Jane voices her thoughts to McBride who's shadowboxing somewhere. She says she doesn't know enough about Connor to form more than an opinion. By the way, the show just pretends that blood flowing out of McBride's ears didn't happen.

Connor is a little pissed when he discovers everyone's talking about him behind his back.

"Vasco remains invulnerable to injuries and everyone around her," he says. Connor isn't aware of any skeletons coming out of his closest, he adds. But after McBride leaves he's obviously double-thinking whether that's true. A little while later Riley's going through Connor's files – with a lot of redacted info – until he goes wide eyed.

Before that we see a security guard get his leg chewed up on some machine. Like with Connor, it starts up for no reason. A few squelchy sounds later and he's gone, real gone.

Ah, we get too see a few slow-motion workout moves from Vasco at Deckard Street HQ. Some producer has made a conscious decision to show the sign more — a nod to the world of Blade Runner.

Riley comes downstairs to Jane pumping iron, arm curls, and the entire night he wasted at her whim — and then he says her hunch paid off. Connor was the leader of the Barrier Precinct Tactical Response Squad, and five of the 12 in the photo that Riley found have been killed. Joey Berlin was the security guard at Bassett's Department Store and he was part of the BPTRS. McBride says Connor is a risk and needs to stay away from the team for a while. There's loyalty for you.

Connor better be revealed as some amazing spook — or JFK's assassin, because the mystery the writers are building about his past is extraordinary.

Ah-ha, the tall guy in the episode "Catch Me If You Can" caught in the rain with Vasco is back and they seem to have been living together for awhile. By the way he's a reporter, the Lois Lane of this series clearly. Or he will be. That could be interesting. Vasco's got a secret, she isn't used to hiding them – though is used to hiding feelings – and he's going to smell the story.

This whole scene is kind of thrown in the mix of the show apropos of nothing, as is the fact that she finished a stack of crosswords in a couple of hours, in pen, while doing her laundry.

Connor remembers some letters that one of his old squad members wrote — and Vasco is asked to leave her cozy home environment to get them. Before she can get there, we see some guy with a mini-ice pick search through his Craftsman's tool cupboard and finds one of the Tactical Unit patches. She enters not very quietly and starts to disarm him but he's trained well and they get into it. He doesn't respect her as a woman and so she wins — well, almost.

Turns out William Hoyt Pearse is the guy, a member of the Tactical Response Squad. Riley runs aging software over all its members for Jane with an image they somehow got from somewhere.

Connor walks outside his place to be a draw for Pearse and out rumbles a nearby vehicle. Except, Connor gets out of the way and Pearse gets killed. Jane notices that it's the legs in most cases that seem to get whacked. With that, Harry Beaman is a name Connor comes up with and it turns out he's some bitter-ass in a wheelchair who blames Connor for sending him into a booby-trapped building looking for a perp.

Beaman looks 15 years younger than a picture from a decade ago. McBride notes that it was only after he was injured that he got his powers.

Joe Waterman, the train guru, is back. As they're all standing around he gets a chip gun near him and hesitates instead of firing it. Beaman manages to guide a steam stream right in his face and he falls off the main center platform. He's okay, which is sad because I thought we had an explanation for how he died.

They've split up with Connor and Vasco one way, and the rest escaping. Joe thinks he knows a back way out that doesn't need electricity. This way has a huge fan at the top of the column – like Willy Wonka's extra-fizzy soda. It suddenly turns on and starts spinning. We're supposed to believe that it's sucking air out of the column enough so they die. In fact they get all woozy in less than ten minutes. No. Bad science, bad.

A fan with that slow of a rotation and wide gaps would always suck air back in as well. It's a Bernoulli convection thing. It's a failed physics thing for the show.

Meanwhile Connor has what almost amounts to a declaration of love for Jane. He says he wants her near because if he lost her he'd lose the only thing he's cared about in a long time. Ohhhh wow, he kisses her — and Beaman watches, except I think Connor knows he's watching. On cue, Vasco gets crushed by the railcar. Beaman asks aloud: "Question: Can you live with yourself now?"

King comes up behind and doesn't bullshit around, killing him outright. His death gets everything working as it should.

As people have requested, the characters are fleshing out. This was Connor's moment. The reverence for Joe is a rich vein to mine. Riley seems to be a complete technoN00b and who knows what else. The rest of the crew isn't as familiar with death as Connor, and by extension Jane, who's died a few times.

We're back at Connor's place and with voiceover she gently strokes the bike and she thinks he's a well-built machine who shouldn't be judged by his cover. Having watched a lot of Magnum PI this past weekend, I've nailed down the problems with the voiceovers in this show. Painkiller Jane rambles on too long, and also too quietly. Thomas Magnum kept it short, and always related it to something that had happened in his life instead of ethereal, general bromides.

Next episode, "Something Nasty In The Neighborhood." For one team member it's the end of the line — we hear. Well, Waterman would be my guess. I thought he was a goner since he's been a gone for most of the series.

On Friday's General Hospital:

Amelia, who's out to see Sam suffer as much as possible, was all too happy to tell Sonny Sam witnessed Jake's kidnapping and did nothing. Sonny called Sam over to find out the truth and, in the end, caught her in a big fat lie when she denied knowing anything about it. Now that Sonny knows for sure Sam's been up to no good, I look for him to come at her with all kinds of vengeance.

After threatening to go public with how Ric had held her captive in the panic room oh so long ago if he didn't allow her to go visit Jason, Carly went to Liz to ask her to bear witness. Liz didn't see what brining the past up would do, informing Carly that Lucky says the evidence against Jason is huge and most likely going to stick. You can just imagine how well she took that. When Carly backed her up against the wall, Liz nearly spilled the paternity secret. Not that it's much of a secret. I think Carly and Lucky are the only two who don't know the truth.

After Lulu told Dillon they didn't have a future (so he would accept the job offer in LA) they shared a tearful goodbye, as he did with the rest of the Quartermaines – even Skye was allowed in the house to say goodbye. In the last minutes, Tracy came bursting into the mansion, having broke out of Shadybrook, donning a blond wig and wearing a blue bathrobe, to try one more time to convince him not to leave. I will miss Scott Clifton, and wish him well in the future.

Noah and Patrick did what they do best – argue. This time over which of them was better suited to treat Eli Love, the '80s rock star brought in with an embolism. As other doctors pointed out, for Noah it would be like operating on himself and as Robin pointed out, for Patrick it would be like operating on his father. Noah is still dismayed that anyone thinks he looks anything like the rock-star, while Eli is "totally freaked out" by "the doctor who looks just like me." I'd really like to see Noah and Patrick come together with some sort of understanding and work together, and hope that with all the attention he's getting for being a look-alike to Love, Noah remembers what a lady's man he used to be. It'd be very nice to see a romantic storyline for the senior Dr. Drake.

Warning! News and Spoilers Ahead!

• Anna Devane is a huge Eli Love fan? She will arrive in Port Charles for the benefit concert in time to find out that he has been hospitalized and will not be able to perform. She makes it her goal to get Noah to step in for the ailing rock star.
• But how can she make it to town for a concert, but not have been around when Jerry was shooting Robin during the Metro Court crisis? Those questions will be addressed in the few short weeks Hughes is back on GH.
• When Spinelli's grandmother dies, he learns he has family ties to Port Charles.
• Thursday at 11:00 pm the Soapnet original series General Hospital: Night Shift will kick off its thirteen week run. Look for Thursday's episode to lead into the prime time show (Robin and Patrick are 'sentenced' to three months in the ER on the night shift for operating on a patient without health insurance by Dr. Ford) but from that point on, the episodic spin-off is said to not have intersecting plotlines with its daytime counterpart. It is being described as an edgier, sexier medical drama.

Wife, mother, aspiring novelist, and music editor at BC Magazine, Connie Phillips spends most of her time in a fantasy land of her own creating. In reality, she writes about music, television, and the process of writing, when she’s not cheering on her kids at equestrian events. Contact: Phillips.connie@gmail.com

I have this friend who married a karate instructor, which isn't by itself all that remarkable, except that it allows everyone else to refer to him as "the ninja" and give them Christmas presents of plastic throwing stars and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles action figures and the like. It's one of those running jokes that's more amusingly self-referential than actually funny to anyone outside a radius of ten people.

To some extent, that's the feeling I get when I watch Sujewa Ekanayake's Date Number One — that I'm watching a self-referential film that's much more entertaining to the creators than it is to an uninvolved third party.

The film revolves around five first date vignettes, ranging from a ninja (punk musician John Stabb Schroeder) looking for love to the pursuit of a long-term threesome to a woman who uses air quotes to the point of overkill. All five contain the same lo-fi production values and are indistinguishable in terms of writing and stylistic techniques, which gives the film a certain cohesiveness that, depending on your point of view, may or may not work to the film's advantage. That is to say, you could certainly make an argument for each segment to have its own distinct look. Whether or not they should, I'm not sure.

But if I had to choose, I'd say they should, since one of the chief problems with Date Number One comes from a production style that's so consistently frustrating. Virtually every shot in the film is a loosely-constructed composition, sloppy and with an abundance of head room, where the camera seems completely unsure of where it wants to be, almost as if it wandered in off the street and happened upon these first dates. It reminds me of things I shot before I knew how to shoot things.

As a stylistic choice used for a specific purpose, this isn't so bad, but without some fundamental framing and composition, the camera looks disinterested, like it can't be bothered to get in place for a two shot that does something as simple as have both actors in the frame. So, what you get is a two shot where the ninja is in the frame, but his date is just out of it and the camera has to pan over slightly to catch her dialogue, at which point the ninja is out of the frame. Rarely does the camera seem to make any strong, artistically-driven choices that further the story, nor does it do something as simple as backing up a couple feet and having the confidence to stay with a master shot. There's a distinct feeling that the film might at any moment get fed up with these characters and move on to something else, but not in a way that invests the audience. Rather, it gives the impression that if the film doesn't really care, why should we?

But maybe the camera doesn't care because the characters haven't given it anything to care about. With a few exceptions (Jennifer Blakemore comes to mind), the performances are wooden and stilted, the sort of thing you get in student films where the filmmaker recruits actors from the football team, and the script feels like a first draft of something that might eventually become substantial and inventive. The actors play it like they've just recently memorized the text and large chunks of the dialogue have the feel of something inspired either by a textbook (most of the dialogue on quantum physics) or a soapbox ("…the enemies of choice are not interested in dialogue and discovery of new and better perspectives. They want women to go back to 'their place' so their neo-conservative, God-fearing, moral majority crap…").

Clearly this is a cast comprised of friends and cohorts willing to give up their free time to get the film finished, and it's hard to fault a no-budget film for going in that direction, but when the performances range from adequate to embarrassing, there has to be a better approach. You could, for example, limit the size of your cast or make a film that isn't as heavily dependent on dialogue, thus minimizing the impact of the performances. But relying on a large cast of non-actors in a film with long stretches of conversation is a recipe for disaster. A good cast can hide a lot of awkward scripting, but an inexperienced cast with anything less than a great script is lethal.

Sadly, the script for Date Number One is littered with cliche and exposition, constantly running afoul of the mandate to "show, don't tell", is mostly devoid of subtext, contains dialogue that reads better than it sounds, and you can see most of the jokes coming far in advance. It is not, by any stretch of the imagination, a good screenplay. The title cards don't help, interrupting the film to tell us things we don't need to know, like that the bartender is the ninja's twin (Why do we need to know this? Why does it matter? Why are we seeing this actor again?), or telling us a proverb seconds before the actors talk about it. Such is the mark of a film either completely unsure of itself or struggling to incorporate audience feedback.

Part of the problem with Date Number One has to do with the sequence of events. The first two segments combine for over half of the 115-minute running time and both segments are at least ten minutes longer than they need to be. So, by the time we get to the second half of the film (which contains segments three and five, the two strongest), our patience is worn thin, especially by the ninja segment, which fills the first thirty minutes with what is easily the film's weakest performance. Trimming that first hour to something more manageable would do wonders.

But that alone wouldn't make it a good film, just a shorter one with fewer problems. What it needs is some harsh re-writes and a cast with a modicum of acting experience. There's no shortage of aspiring actors in the world more than willing to be in a film. Casting people just because they happen to be your friends and have free time is counter-productive and undermines the end product, especially when there are better alternatives willing and able to do the job. Similarly, it never hurts to get a director of photography who will do more than use the camera's auto focus and exposure. Such are the little things that a casual observer won't mind, but others will, and it severely limits the potential audience. There's value to doing everything yourself, but there's usually more value in seeing if there's people around who can just as easily do it better. This film would have been better served with the latter.

Starring: John Stabb Schroeder, Julia Stemper, Jennifer Blakemore, Shervin Boloorian, Dele Williams, and Christine D. Lee
Cinematography by: Sujewa Ekanayake[1]
Written and directed by: Sujewa Ekanayake
$10,000/115 min/Washington, D.C.

You can check out Date Number One on IMDb, MySpace, or the official web page. You can read the various writings of Sujewa Ekanayake at his blog.

Got a film you'd like to submit for the Uber-Indie Project? Go here for details.

A DVD of one guy sitting in a chair and talking for 53 minutes isn’t what most people would call entertainment. But the Speaking Freely series, inaugurated by an interview with author/activist John Perkins, is an enlightening exercise in the power of the medium.

While radio and cable news are the refuge of conservatives, film and newspapers (longer, more revealing sources) are where progressive ideas thrive. With Speaking Freely, Perkins, the author of Confessions of an Economic Hitman and The Secret History of the American Empire, delivers a dissertation on the state of the global corporate empire that would make even the most liberal American cringe.

Of course, shocking truths make the Speaking Freely DVD series a revolutionary change of pace from even the Dan Rather/Ted Koppel hour-longs that exist on cable TV. Featuring interviews with authors mostly speaking on the global economy, Speaking Freely combines expert knowledge with a social consciousness that is regularly absent from news today.

Perkins, in fact, is able to easily connect the problems that are at the forefront of the American consciousness (illegal immigration, terrorism, and the Iraq War) to the unstable, greedy global corporatocracy. He establishes the World Bank as a major arm in keeping developing countries in debt to the world’s major powers, while providing major corporations with profits from infrastructure projects.

Of course, watching Michael Moore’s Sicko and Perkins in Speaking Freely so close together also makes it easy to see the connection to debt (health care and education for individual Americans and infrastructure for developing countries) and the creation of a slave class.

I know right now most people will be inclined to discredit or disregard the claims, but consider the rhetoric the major media uses in describing democratically elected South American presidents like Hugo Chavez or Evo Morales. As Perkins describes them, such leaders are only there to take back the resources of their countrymen, making them enemies of the corporatocracy and thus “dictators” in the media.

Most leaders cave to the bribes of “economic hit men” (paid professionals who extort profits through international aid packages and development loans). If that doesn’t work, they become enemies who are set up for assassination or overthrow. If that doesn’t work, well, you know what happened in Iraq.

On the DVD, Perkins adds depth to the topics I mention here and he does it articulately and logically. For anyone looking for news that’s not fit to print, Speaking Freely volume one is a great place to start investigating.

As anyone who watches with any regularity can attest, television viewing can be something of a crap shoot during the summer months. In the summer absence of the hit shows we all got hooked on during the fall — 24, Lost, and after this past season, Heroes all come to mind here — summer is that notorious time that the networks trot out their replacement fare.

For television, this usually means that the summer months are relegated to something like a science experiment. Since presumably no one is watching anyway, the networks will often use this time to try out the shows they weren't so willing to take a chance on during the fall season. Generally speaking, these replacement programs will fill space for a few weeks before becoming completely forgotten by the time the big guns are rolled out for fall.

One summer series which has refreshingly bucked this trend is USA Network's The 4400. Now in its fourth season, the sci-fi drama has drawn not only decent ratings, but has even developed something of a devoted fan base. Set in Seattle, the show's premise revolves around a group of 4400 individuals who mysteriously vanish, then are returned unharmed, unaged, and newly gifted with various paranormal abilities.

Early on in the show, the implication was that these people had been abducted and returned by aliens. More recently, this assumption has shifted somewhat to where it now appears to be a future version of ourselves who took these folks. They have also been tasked with a mission to save mankind from some unknown future calamity.

Since my personal nitpicks about this show number so few, I'll dispense with those here and now. As I said, the show is set in Seattle. But as someone who was born and raised here, I can say with a fair degree of certainty that the show isn't filmed anywhere near Seattle.

Since becoming everybody's favorite hippest town in the world — between Microsoft, Starbucks, and grunge in the nineties — many movies and shows now have stories and plots that originate in Seattle. Some, like Greys Anatomy for instance, do it right by either filming here or at least getting the local references correctly. The 4400 occasionally gets this part right too. More often though, they miss the mark.

Personal hometown gripe aside though, The 4400 has become a major summertime guilty pleasure for me. I've always been a sucker for sci-fi anyway, and over the course of four seasons now, this show has taken some very interesting twists and turns.

Take the series' two principal characters, Tom Baldwin (Joel Gretsch) and Diana Skouris (Jacqueline McKenzie), for example. Working as investigators for a government agency called NTAC (National Threat Assessment Command), the pair are tasked with keeping tabs on the 4400. It seems however, that Baldwin and Skouris also have more than a few personal ties themselves.

Tom's son Kyle was rescued from a coma by his nephew Shawn, a 4400 who has the ability to heal. Tom also fell in love with, married, and subsequently lost Alana, a 4400 with the ability to transport herself and others in and out of time. Meanwhile, Diana has adopted Maia — a pre-teenaged 4400 who has sometimes disturbing visions of the future — as her own daughter.

For its first few seasons, The 4400 mainly focused on the perception within certain corridors of government that this group somehow posed a threat. Last year, the show took off in some interesting new directions though. Jordan Collier, a 4400 who was "assassinated" in the first season (by Tom's son Kyle in another of this show's numerous twists), came back to life looking more than ever like a prophet, if not an actual messiah. Meanwhile, Isabelle Tyler grew from an infant to a full-grown, full-fledged female antichrist sort of figure over the course of a few weeks.

Three episodes into its fourth season, the shocking new developments continue unabated. Jordan Collier has offered 4400-like abilities absolutely free to anyone willing to inject themselves with the ability-producing drug promicin. Although many take Collier up on his offer — including Diana's sister — the government is not happy about this since taking the shot involves a fifty percent risk of death.

Shawn has also re-embraced his healing abiltiy, and boldly defied the government by reopening the former 4400 center as a healing foundation — with a standing offer to heal anyone who shows up at his door.

Meanwhile, Baldwin's son Kyle — who has also taken the promicin shot — has developed a most interesting ability himself. This "ability" manifests itself in the form of a beautiful young woman who may or may not be actual flesh and blood. Nonetheless, she leads Kyle to an obscure religious cult with a manuscript of holy scripture prophesying Collier as the Messiah and Kyle as his shaman.

Will Diana find her sister? Will the Republican party put a stop to Shawn's plan to put the pharmaceutical industry out of business? Will Kyle claim his destiny as John The Baptist to Jordan Collier's apparent Jesus Christ? One thing is for certain, there is never a dull moment and The 4400 is not your typical summertime replacement series.

Of course, if you have cable (and who doesn't these days?) you can tune in to find out for yourself. The 4400 airs Sunday nights at 9:00 PM in most time zones on the USA Network.

You’ll find Blogcritics contributing editor and music raconteur Glen Boyd sharing his Thoughtmares about everything from music to politics to professional wrestling on his personal blog The World Wide Glen: Welcome To My Thoughtmare. In his alter-ego as “Disco Glen,” Mr. Boyd is also the undisputed king of the dancefloor.