Paranoid Park, To Die For, Broadcast News

Paranoid Park (2007, Gus Van Sant)
Like Van Sant's three other most recent films in the same style, nothing much happens in "Paranoid Park" but it's his sweetest film since "Mala Noche." Although a murder investigation drifts into the film, and in casual chopped-up memories the night in question is shown to us (including an alarmingly gory and thankfully brief image of a dying man), it's much more about Van Sant dropping in on this skateboarding subculture of slim, laid-back teens and their relaxed lives, while making room for observations about their insecurity, fear of commitment, and possible sexual confusion. Van Sant is a director who has openly and, at his best, honestly concerned himself with fashioning poetic odes to young, beautiful boys who he clearly loves, and this is his latest exercise in gentle adoration. His boy of choice this time around, Gabe Nevins, is a doe-eyed, open-faced naif, and he's attractive and pleasant enough to draw our attention. His narration at first sounds like a boy reading out loud but fits when you realize it goes hand in hand with his journal writing.

To Die For (1995, Gus Van Sant)
Although somewhat juvenile in its contempt for its main character (we're meant to laugh at what a ladder-climbing fraud she is, not least of all when she plays "All By Myself" by Eric Carmen at her husband's funeral) and all-too-fashionably critical of the media, it nevertheless serves as a solid example of Van Sant's power as a straightforward storyteller -- and with enough idiosyncrasies to keep from being boring (in particular a ghoulish ending featuring David Cronenberg). Nicole Kidman gives one of those campy performances of buffoonery, the kind of thing that makes audiences love Norma Desmond and Mommie Dearest, but it's Joaquin Phoenix who shows the most emotional range and sensitivity.

Broadcast News (1987, James L. Brooks)
Mostly bland and mediocre, I would be hard-pressed to describe what style of film James L. Brooks makes. Albert Brooks is barely funny and William Hurt is almost likable. It effectively shows the chaos of a newsroom in two scenes (Holly Hunter talking into Hurt's ear piece; Brooks sweating profusely) but aside from that the only memorable scene in this two hours plus movie is of an underused Joan Cusack who jumps over a baby to deliver a tape before airing.