Jesus is Magic

Sarah Silverman's Jesus is Magic is crass, classless, sick and twisted. If you missed her in The Aristocrats, you might not know that the ... comedian herself is the most subversive comic working today, egomaniacal and a genius. She's also a fast writer. Magic opens with an archetypical L.A. scene: Sarah's hanging around with her fellow comic/actor friends talking about their upcoming work each one topping the other. When it's her turn, Silverman says she's performing a one-woman show that covers the Holocaust, AIDS, and racism -- tonight. But she's lying, of course, and she's got a show to put on in a few hours. Cut to: Sarah on stage. Her sense of humor is aggressive, pointed, and honest enough to make you squirm. ... Silverman's sharp tongue ... also drops the n-word (yes, that n-word) with impunity and has a deadlier aim than Kanye West. But she's not careless with it. You sense that this is the way the word is ... used out of black folks' earshot. Completely without guile. Silverman, who has a ... starlet's body, long black hair, and a pretty face, can pretty much get away with anything and that's her secret weapon. She's wicked, but light as a feather. Weighted words and issues like the Holocaust, AIDS, racism, as well as religion and Hollywood's vanity are dissected completely in ... Jesus is ... Magic, ... but with an unnerving charm and then... a smile. ... I wish I could share a joke or two, but I don't have her light touch. ... Instead, know that Silverman ... closes her show ... with a song -- by singing out of her ass. Literally. -- Anderson Jones

Ballets Russes

If you think So You Think You Can Dance and Dancing with the Stars comes even close to representing the art of dance, think again. Dance, at least what we now think of as ballet, truly began in Paris at the turn of the century among Russian immigrants displaced by the revolution. Chances are if you know any ballet performance by name, say, the Nutcracker or Swan Lake, it began as part of the Ballets Russes repertoire. Their remarkable influence has even slipped into pop culture. The original Batgirl is a Russes veteran and revolutionary gay porn director Wakefield Poole (Bijou, Men in the Sand), who famously set his sex scenes to classical music (!), also danced. In fact, the modern image of the anorexic ballerina -- long legs, short torso, tiny emotionless head -- was developed by George Balanchine, one of the first, great choreographers. This historic documentary, from filmmakers Dayna Goldfine and Dan Gellar, charts the 50-year history of the ballet troupe from its origins as a motley crew of starving actors, artists (Picasso, Matisse) and circus performers to London, Australia, Latin America and, finally, Hollywood. Surviving dancers, who were barely in their teens, recount how Charlie Chaplin (well...), Erroll Flynn (naturally!) and Tyrone Powers (check!) would hang out at rehearsals. Before the ballet descended on Broadway in 1944, changing American theater forever, the troupe toured the heartland with a progressive heart. Among its cast were Native American dancers, 17 different nationalities, the first African-American ballerina, who stayed with the troupe until hatred in the South grew unbearable. She moved north, never to dance with an American company again. And, while the focus is certainly on the dance divas -- male dancers have nothing to do in Swan Lake, after all -- the film includes men ... in tights ... like Frederic Franklin, who still teaches at 91, and yummy George Zoritch, the beefcake god of Night and Day. Ultimately, Ballets Russes is essential viewing for the ballet fan and a fascinating, gloriously glamorous educational romp for anyone who appreciates beauty and art in all its forms. These are the real lords of the dance. -- Anderson Jones

Ellie Parker

There's something delicious about witnessing a Hollywood star go indie. Not Julia-Roberts-in-a-Steven-Soderburgh indie, mind you. But literally no budget, fuck-all, no-ego hardcore indie. Naomi Watts, a name thanks to The Ring series and her Oscar-nominated 21 Grams turn, is about to launch into the multiplex stratosphere as the star of King Kong. Yet here she is stripped-down and refreshingly un-Roberts-like in openly gay writer/director/co-star Scott Coffey's no-budget comedic video feature about an actress stuck in audition, relationship, and existential hell.

Ellie Parker (Watts) is having a really bad week. In between rushing to auditions (changing outfits and makeup en route in the car), she discovers her musician boyfriend (Mark Pellegrino) screwing someone else. Turning to fellow actress friend Smash (Blair Mastbaum), who may be more talented, for support, Ellie's sense of despair continues to intensify. Enter Chris (Scott Coffey), a flake who promises romantic distraction but only delivers more humiliations. Disgusted by life, Ellie storms into the office of her manager, Dennis (Chevy Chase), and announces her retirement from acting. But will Ellie even fail at that?

Ellie Parker began life as a short film, screened at the 2001 Sundance Film Festival. Coffey, who worked with Watts on Tank Girl and Mulholland Drive, reconvened with the actress to construct a feature-length version, shooting bits and pieces over several years time. A spot-on satire of the often self-satirizing acting and auditioning world, the film's pleasures include Ellie babbling ÒI sucked his cock, I sucked Vinny's cock!Ó in a cheesy New York-ified accent while prepping for a less-than-promising role; an impromptu crying competition between Ellie and Smash; a ÒcameoÓ by Keanu Reeves (playing with his band Dogstar); a ludicrous acting class lorded over by a coke-sniffing instructor; and a gay twist.

Coffey and co-star Mastbaum shot the film with a consumer video camera, which imparts a sense of immediacy and gloss-free reality. Yet one low-tech aesthetic choice really falls flat: frequently jamming the camera tight into people's faces and against foreground objects for what I imagine to be cinematic expressiveness, this technique mostly comes across as amateurish avant-garde creativity, an unnecessary distraction/indulgence. Still, Ellie Parker ultimately represents a refreshing, rare indie work, and proves Watts to be a shining -- whilst happily varnished -- jewel. -- Lawrence Ferber