Problem: OPTIONS:
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Answer: ...but the general moviegoer's mileage may vary in Mary "American Psycho" Harron's stylized look at the American sexual psyche as seen through the lens of the immortal Queen of Curves, Bettie Page.

I'll not bore anyone with a recitation of the iconic status of Ms. Page, a prim and proper valedictorian from Nashville, Tennessee, who moved to New York in hopes of being an actress and ended up becoming the Bondage Queen of the Universe. Nor will I run through the sketchy bio-pic plot of "The Notorious Bettie Page," though I offer high kudos to the technical aspects of the film (a sequence of animated magazine covers springs instantly to mind), improper use of a period camera notwithstanding. Finally, I won't belabor the timely applicability of the film's themes of innocence and perversion, freedom and control, the sacred and the secular; they're there for the viewer to absorb, if they wish. The more things change, the more they stay the same, as the saying goes.

What I will ramble on about for a moment is the splendid performance of Gretchen Mol as Bettie Page. Truth is, Mol's face looks almost nothing like Bettie's, nor is she particularly built like Bettie (although only a fool would deny those beautiful breasts, and no fool, I!). She doesn't even sport the thick, dark bush that concealed Ms. Page's most intimate charms, but the fact remains that Mol thoroughly embodies the spirit of Bettie Page in every way, shape, and form. It is a bravura "comeback" from an undeserved semi-obscurity. I've never met Ms. Page (and sadly, never will, most likely), but I've devoured the photos and videos, and read all the bios and interviews available, bought the trading cards and other odds and ends, and to be honest, lusted for Ms. Page ever since I first discovered her in my adolescence between the covers of dusty tease magazines at the barber shop and the five and dime. Mol perfectly captures the essence of the woman as I have come to conceive her, no pun intended, in what I consider to be an Oscar-worthy performance. Liv Tyler could never have matched Mol's shining intensity of characterization in a million years, and I, for one, am grateful she left the project. Not that I'd mind seeing her totally naked, I hasten to add, but I can't imagine that her brand of sensuality would have translated into the innocent exhuberance of Bettie Page.

"The Notorious Bettie Page" is not for everyone, any more than bondage and discipline are. I suspect it will do much better on disc than in the theaters; legions of devoted Page fans and the curious will see to that. I can only hope that the DVD will be chock full of enough Bettie extras to show the uninitiated just how good a job Mol has done.

Beyond that, a tip of the hat to a fine supporting cast, especially Lili Taylor and Chris Bauer as Paula and Irving Klaw, whose celebrity photo business was Bettie's doorway to immortality.

A final note to the young scribe who opined that Ms. Page had no effect on his generation: take a good look at Madonna's cone brassiere and get back to us. Bettie Page is, whether you know it or not, the true Godmother of fetishwear. Without her, Madonna and the rest of her kin could never have existed.

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Answer: I heard and read many praising things about "Midnight Meat Train", which is based on a short story written by no less than Clive Barker and supposedly the best adaptation of his work since the original "Hellraiser" that he directed himself, but so far I can only express very mixed sentiments about my viewing experience. The most appropriate term to summarize the whole film in just word is: nauseating! The violence is sadistic and extreme, which undoubtedly attracts fanatic young horror enthusiasts, but it's also indescribably gratuitous and exploitative. Normally speaking, I'm very pro-violence but it has to at least serve some kind of purpose. The butchering literally depicted in "Midnight Meat Train" is exclusively meant to shock and to repulse the viewers with weak nerve systems and easily upset stomachs, and even that isn't fully effective due to the use of digital computer effects. There are more shortcomings, some even bigger than the pointless gore, but perhaps I should focus on the good elements first. The basic concept is definitely promising and multiple sequences (like the chase in the freezer room, for example) are literally oozing with nail-biting suspense and macabre atmosphere. Unfortunately the pacing is very uneven and the elaboration of the potentially fantastic plot is made unnecessarily convoluted. Presumably the processing of a short story into a long feature film scenario is responsible for the pacing irregularities, but I honestly feel they could have done more with the denouement as well as with the character played by Vinnie Jones. The plot introduces Leon, an aspiring photographer in New York whose agent advises to search for the truly menacing face of the city through sinister pictures. Leon then becomes obsessed with stalking an introvert and suspiciously behaving butcher who always awaits the midnight train. Leon's right, as the butcher turns out to be a relentless serial killer who literally crushes his victims with a big hammer, but the killer's motivations and behavior suggest there's something far more substantial going on the rails at night. "Midnight Meat Train" takes place in naturally unsettling locations like subway stations at night and animal abattoirs, plus the film also benefices of good acting performances and a truckload of downright disturbing images (like cadavers on meat hooks and train carriages smeared in blood), but director Ryuhei Kitamura ("Versus", "Godzilla Final Wars") doesn't take full advantage of it all. The ending leaves a whole lot questions unanswered and, even if Clive Barker meant to have like this, I still think we deserved a slightly more clarifying finale. "Midnight Meat Train" is a somewhat intriguing and definitely haunting film, but not without defaults. It's not intended for easily offended viewers, but maybe people looking for plot coherence and clarity should leave it alone as well.

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Answer:
I was electrified when I first saw this in 1983 or 1984. Steven Biko is gone half way through the film but the resonance of his courage and wisdom is not forgotten. I didn't when finally in South Africa in 1993. It is also largely a story about friendship and loyalty. When I was in South Africa and heard the audience at a dance recital in Natal sing Nkosi Sikelel' iAfrika, my hair stood on its ends. There is a lot to learn from this story for all peoples.