Too much craziness and now, finally, the sweet relief of a weekend involving movies smart and dumb. As you may have noticed, I have a post-Marty glow. (Thanks.) It happens when you become the target of Scorsese’s gigantic cinematic insight. Our chat—which is very inspirational—is here. Go check out The Red Shoes at Film Forum. While I can’t fully recommend Richard Kelly’s The Box (”It’s better than Southland Tales” ain’t going on any movie posters), I do love our fun list of Team Film’s creepiest cinematic boxes. Oh, we remembered all of them. Finally, see that eerie image above? It’s from the Swedish silent film Häxan: Witchcraft Through the Ages, which plays at MoMA this Sunday at 2:30pm with live musical accompaniment by the Matti Bye Ensemble. They have a restored print as part of their “To Save and Project” series. It’s scary, ridiculous and totally worth your time.

Back when low-budget indies used their freedom to address outré subject matter (not winning a beauty pageant), there was a golden age of genre trash. Roger Corman was its king, and this 1963 sci-fi gem, starring former A-lister Ray Milland, is probably the director-producer’s scariest. Milland plays the fantasy role of teenage boys everywhere: a scientist who invents X-ray vision. But the movie quickly enters dark territory as he begins to see deeper and deeper—into the substance of metaphysics itself. Our hero flees to Las Vegas, where he cheats at cards and also gets exploited in a carnival freak show run by Don Rickles. (I’m so not making this up.) No less an authority than Stephen King has celebrated this movie’s memorable climax, which I won’t ruin for you. It plays tonight at Anthology Film Archives at 9:15pm.

Us, too: We’re kind of bummed that Halloween is over—just when we were getting into this whole candy-and-costume lifestyle. Anyway, Anthology Film Archives feels our pain. Tonight at 9pm, it screens the 1959 Roger Corman horror-comedy A Bucket of Blood. It’s about a weird sculptor. Bring your leftover candy corn. We know you’re holding.

We’re calling it the horror film of the year—and by “we’re,” I mean me. But seriously: If you love suspense-driven, Val Lewton-esque thrillers, yet don’t make it out to see The House of the Devil, then you’re either lying or had a damn good reason, like being trapped in a cellar with Kathy Bates. Here’s my interview with the film’s 29-year-old wunderkind director, Ti West; also check out Keith’s glowing review. Halloween is upon us. I was putting together a list of movies that function like ghost stories but don’t actually feature ghosts—stuff like Jimmy Stewart’s quest for the mysterious Madeleine in Vertigo; or the eerie dance across a span of grey sky in last year’s subtly elegiac Man on Wire. Then, a new nonghost ghost story dropped right into my lap: Michael Jackson’s This Is It. You can read my review right here; suffice it to say, we were happily surprised. Anyway, enjoy the weekend. Boo!

You’re probably hearing a lot about torture and Jigsaw and chaos reigning right about now. So let us offer you a few alternatives: Dave loves him some Elia Kazan, especially Film Forum’s weeklong booking of Wild River, a “terminally neglected 1960 melodrama” starring Montgomery Clift. Keith can happily vouch for an “extraordinary character study” called Night and Day by South Korean filmmaker Hong Sang-soo; it’s playing at Anthology. And I dig Gena Rowlands, above, unraveling in John Cassavetes’s heartbreaking A Woman Under the Influence, at MoMA starting tomorrow.

Some people count down to Christmas; for me, it’s always been Halloween. (Only ten days!) The weather isn’t exactly cooperating—be fall already—but there’s an embarrassment of riches, spookswise, in theaters over the next couple of weeks. Tonight we recommend a relatively new horror anthology: Michael Dougherty’s Trick ‘r Treat, a 2008 collection of interwoven shorts playing at 8:30pm at the Film Society of Lincoln Center. The buzz is strong and serious—as if that photo above weren’t evidence enough.

Honestly, go. It’s fine. We know you’re going. Even though we can’t fully vouch for Where the Wild Things Are, we see you salivating. That’s cool. But if you really want our advice, we’d suggest exploring NYC’s wide, woolly world of revivals. Let the wild rumpus begin! Film Forum continues its Elia Kazan fest with A Streetcar Named Desire—and seriously, this Brando kid is pretty good. (It plays on Sunday at multiple times.) MoMA screens Jim Jarmusch’s 1984 breakthrough, Stranger than Paradise, on Saturday at 8pm. And finally, the Film Society of Lincoln Center brings the gooey, lovable Hammer classics Horror of Dracula (above) on Saturday at 6pm, and The Curse of the Werewolf directly afterward.

We are now in what must be called Phase Three of Project Jennifer Connelly—her post-bombshell dramatist phase. It began with the one-two punch of Requiem for a Dream and A Beautiful Mind. Yet it’s easy to cast back longingly to Phase Two, when Connelly’s curves and naughtiness showed up in material like Mulholland Falls, Inventing the Abbotts and The Hot Spot (ouch). But if I’m being totally honest, the version of Connelly I most prefer is Phase One, the period in which her sparky teenage braininess stole away Sergio Leone’s epic Once Upon a Time in America, partnered her with David Bowie in Labyrinth and commandeered this bizarre 1985 Italian horror film by maestro Dario Argento. (Connelly fun fact: She speaks fluent Italian.) In Phenomena, her 14-year-old character shares a strange psychic bond with swarms of insects, creatures she loves. Only slightly less creepy, she also bonds with bug expert Donald Pleasence. The movie plays at 9pm at the Film Society of Lincoln Center.

You must must must see this documentary tonight at 8pm at IFC Center’s weekly “Stranger than Fiction” series. To whet your appetite, let’s start by saying it’s about sexy Italian club girls and the men who hope to put them on TV. But the inquiry extends to include a stunning indictment of Silvio Berlusconi’s tits-obsessed media empire, interchangeable in many ways with his political administration. Just when you’re gasping at this documentary’s reach, it swivels again and includes the gossip kingmakers and wanna-be reality-TV stars. Atmospheric and scary, Videocracy was easily the best nonfiction movie I saw at the Toronto International Film Festival. As for its subject matter—presented like a Fellini horror film—I’d say it’s where America was heading if we weren’t already there. Videocracy still has no U.S. distributor; you can see it tonight.

Looks like we’ve got a proper midnight sensation on our hands: Paranormal Activity, a Blair Witch–like low-budget shocker, is beginning to pick up buzz from sold-out shows. Tonight it plays the Film Society of Lincoln Center at 7pm as part of its “Scary Movies 3” series, solidly curated (if a touch unadventurously). Other titles to check out include Candyman—giving lie to the idea that the 1990s were berefit of decent horror—and Dario Argento’s Phenomena, starring a teenage Jennifer Connelly circa Labyrinth.

Call it another British invasion—this time, of tough-minded cinema featuring arrogant characters with bad teeth. Two excellent films open today: Bronson, a “bizarre and mighty prison film” per our review, with an unforgettable performance by Tom Hardy (above). Here’s Dave’s interview with him. Then there’s The Damned United, which is sort of a movie about soccer, but not really. It concerns a hubristic coach played by Michael Sheen—and if the presence of this excellent second banana (The Queen, Frost/Nixon) doesn’t get you stoked, you need some serious correctional work. Then again, maybe you just want to stay in. Rent some of these, taken from our truly “banging” top-ten movie haircuts of all time.

A little secret: Tuesday night is “cozy night” at Film Forum. It’s not really. But wouldn’t that be a fun tradition for them to have? Seriously: Go to the esteemed venue during the middle of the working week and there’s a serene vibe to be had. No crazy crowds. No long lines. Just you, your hon and a classic rom-com like Some Like It Hot (tonight at 4:30, 7 and 9:30pm; final three days!). How nice does that sound?

Have you done a little NYFFing yet? (Sounds dirty.) The New York Festival proceeds apace and tickets are still available. We’re reviewing everything here, and while we haven’t been thrilled with all titles, tonight’s 6pm show of Everyone Else would merit our endorsement. It’s a breakup movie—a neurotic, passive-aggressive one at that. But director Maren Ade is a filmmaker worth watching. As of right now, Lincoln Center is reporting ticket availability.

Man, did it just get smart in here, or do we just like movies more? The Coens exceed even their own standards with A Serious Man, the first unmissable movie of the fall. (Check out David Fear’s chat with the brothers here.) Meanwhile, we might have to make room for more films from budding auteur Drew Barrymore; her first attempt behind the camera, Whip It, is utterly winning and an unexpected heartbreaker. Keith Uhlich loves him some Abel Ferrara, particularly the director’s latest documentary, Chelsea on the Rocks. And if you want rep—you got it! Billy Wilder’s comic masterpiece Some Like It Hot plays at Film Forum, while the first two Toy Story movies beguile in 3-D. In short, we’re talking options galore, people.

Like many Americans, I often feel the funkiness rising up inside me. It sometimes needs purging. There’s no better opportunity than the one provided tonight at Maysles Cinema, screening Soul Power, a terrific concert documentary filmed in Africa. (It also plays tomorrow night and Wednesday at 7:30pm.) The movie captures legends like James Brown and B.B. King at the peak of their substantial gifts. Backstage: a playful Muhammad Ali, serenly confident of his soon-to-be-mythic victory over George Foreman in the Rumble in the Jungle.

What’s on the menu this weekend? Getting underway tonight is a little thing we like to call the New York Film Festival. TONY is reviewing every movie on the slate; click through for our exhaustive coverage (we were certainly exhausted by Antichrist), as well as our recommended nine picks. Tickets for many are still available. Your nonfest options are also strong: Coco Before Chanel is “highbrow guilty-pleasure gold,” per our reviewer, Karina Longworth. So get dolled up and head out. And who wouldn’t like watching The Shining at midnight at IFC Center tonight and tomorrow? I’ll tell you who: my ex-girlfriend. But she’s totally being unfair! It’s a horror film and supposed to be scary. “I don’t like horror movies because they scare me” is sort of a conversation-stopper. So unhelpful. Moving on!

If the eyes are the windows to the soul, does that mean Nicolas Cage has a pair of bay windows? Here he is, bugging out in Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans, Werner Herzog’s antisequel that’s way too histrionic not to enjoy immensely. I’m suspicious of anyone who takes the movie all that seriously. Abel Ferrara wrung nervous laughs from his viewers in 1992, while Herzog elicits campy, silly giggles. Despite some post-Katrina nods, he works largely in a nonrealistic vein. (Perhaps you’ve heard about the iguanas. If not, I’ll leave you with the pleasant surprise.) And still, the film somehow connects—think Wicker Man—so who cares if its director, so rigorous as a documentarian, seems wildly out of control when handed a script? There has to be room for fun, and such movies often get short shrift in festival write-ups. Let’s rectify that. Read more »

A movie called I Killed My Mother isn’t going to appeal to a certain demographic—I’m pretty sure about this. And yet, hearing the sniffles (and ultimately, robust applause) that greeted writer-director Xavier Dolan’s comic drama about a surly French teen and his suburban single mom, you could be pursuaded into thinking the film was, indeed, for the carpool-to-mall set. Anchored by two unsparingly direct performances by the 20-year-old Dolan (he also edited) and feisty Anne Dorval, the film doesn’t skimp on the screaming. It’s also a coming-out drama and postdivorce anxiety tale. But a resilient bond emerges from the crucible of a broken home and a dysfunctional parent-child relationship. Taking the wider view, this year’s Toronto was marked by treatments of spirituality (the Coens’ A Serious Man, Bruno Dumont’s absorbing Hadewijch, the extraordinary Lourdes), but perhaps it was domestic abuse, literal and figurative, that proved the deeper thread. There were plenty more films that turned family into a nightmare. Wouldn’t you expect as much from Todd Solondz? Read more »

Even if a movie isn’t 100 percent successful, an individual performance can keep me rapt. That’s been the case with two Toronto films starring my favorite actors working today. Neither is a Hollywood star (so unfair), but each consistently roundhouses her onscreen competition. If mainstream viewers know Russia’s Oksana Akinshina (left) at all, it’s as the scared girl who holds up her end of a tense conversation with Matt Damon at the conclusion of The Bourne Supremacy. She also gave what I think is the performance of the decade in Lukas Moodysson’s harrowing Lilya 4-Ever (2002), a female tragedy on a par with Mouchette. Other high-profile roles haven’t been forthcoming; while capable of beautiful blondness, Akinshina is picky and seems to have a taste for serious acting. Laziness is beyond her. So there was simply no way I was going to miss Hipsters, title be damned. Read more »

Some titles attract buzz—manufactured, earned or what have you—and when the buzz comes, you go. A Single Man picked up an acting award for Colin Firth last week at Venice; it also landed a distributor in the Weinsteins mere hours ago, who added a second Toronto press screening and stoked the fire. For the record, I was already planning on seeing it, not just because I’m exquisitely attuned to microchanges in hotness, but because the movie is the first by fashion designer Tom Ford and I like to see those kinds of professional leaps. Since the film is superstylish and set largely in 1962, people are crying Mad Men (many critics are swooning). But a better comparison might be something like Far from Heaven, which swaddled a tragic, pre-lib gay story in affecting melodrama. The clash isn’t wholly successful. Read more »