Opening today:

I insist that you go see Waltz with Bashir immediately:

Attempting to excavate his suppressed memories, [director Ari] Folman recorded interviews with fellow soldiers, journalists, friends, and his therapist; he then animated their accounts in a series of dark, disjointed, somnambular episodes. The finished product is stunning: weird, angular dreams of snarling dogs, bodies wrapped up in shining bundles, yellow skies, silent swimming, sudden death, gigantic women, boys walking out of the sea, and people being swallowed up by shadows.

Taken is the movie where Liam Neeson kicks people—and there's not much else to it, says Evan Stewart:

In terms of plot, there's not much new ground covered. The film draws heavily on its action predecessors—Neeson is "getting too old for this shit," but he "just wants his kid back," and presumably he's also "sick of these motherfucking snakes on this motherfucking plane."

And I couldn't help but enjoy the unabashedly ridiculous musical Were the World Mine:

You know once in a while when you stumble into something you weren't supposed to see? Like your grandpa's underpants? Or an intimate moment between two grandpas? Or your roommate, prone on the couch, weeping over a particularly moving episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation, in which Data must defend his humanity before an inter- galactic court?* (There, there, Kevin.) It's not bad, it's not shameful, it's just not for you.

You can also catch the last few days of the Children's Film Festival, which I recommend.

And in Limited Runs:

The late night movies are Serenity (Egyptian) and Stunt Rock (Grand Illusion). The Grand Illusion also has Hitchcock's The 39 Steps. In their French Crime Wave series, SIFF Cinema is showing Shoot the Piano Player. At Central Cinema you've got your Thirteen, and tonight it's Garbage Warrior (which Dominic wrote about here) at Wallingford Meaningful Movies.

Oh! And Kelly O's porn column, of course! This week: Belladonna's Girl Train.

Happy weekend!

*Earlier today, this same wonderful, dear roommate knocked on my door to inform me that Commander Riker had just delivered the line, “What’s a knockout like you doing in a computer-generated gin joint like this?” and then proceeded to serenade the holodeck hottie on his trombone.