After a day of adjustment, the fortress city yielded. Now staying downtown and abandoning the rental car, I can relax and concentrate on the festival. Today was a time to have fun at the movies. And even after years of sitting in the dark for profit, fun is still possible.

A DIRTY SHAME

"Let's go SEXIN'!"

And for thirty minutes, the audience wants to join in. John Waters' new film A DIRTY SHAME is anything but boring and all the talk about its sexual content resulting in a NC-17 rating is really just talk. Aside from much innuendo and a few scenes of flaccid male nudity, the film is less graphic than you might think.

Waters has smartly set his story of sexual frustration and depravity on a typical middle class American street where folks mask their bedroom dysfunctions. Sylvia Stickles (Tracey Ullman) and her husband Vaughn (Chris Isaak) have a problem, their daughter, Caprice (Selma Blair), has sexually enhanced herself with breasts of grossly abnormal huge size. Her sexual escapades have caused her problems with the law, and in addition to an ankle bracelet, Sylvia and Vaughn keep her under lock and key, literally. One day, Sylvia receives a vicious bump on the head and a visit from a sexual prophet and the large breasted daughter is out of lock-up. Waters must have had fun picking out the archive footage of nudie cutie classics and nudist colony films spicing them into the scenes where Sylvia receives a concussion. Doris Wishman would be proud.

The satire is dead on early but falters in Waters' over-the-top fashion over time. Like SERIAL MOM, the film has a chaotic conclusion that really makes little sense. Still, the sight of Blair in what will be dubbed a "breast-suit" is unbelievable. And Ullman, who I haven't seen in a while, has fun with the role using her plastic face to its fullest capacity. Besides, any film with subliminal messaging and words like "VIGAGRAvated" in the dialogue can't be too bad.

THE WOODSMAN

"When will I be normal?" Walter asks his therapist. The answer is just another question.

THE WOODSMAN is an impressive feature debut from writer/director Nicole Kassell and a perfect example of how to get your first film noticed. Even without the impressive well-known cast, the story of THE WOODSMAN would have turned heads.

Kevin Bacon in full vulnerable mode stars as Walter a pedophile recently released from prison. He lands a job and an apartment across the street from a school. After 12 years in jail, he is on supervised parole and must meet with a therapist often. Walter struggles daily with his obsession with little girls and the script refuses to compromise; Walter is a very sick man.

Soon he finds a sympathetic woman and his visits with the therapist appear to be working. But the temptation nags at him.

Bacon could not have played his character any better. He is reduced and weak and troubled. There are times when he makes us forget his usual smile (which is not really seen in this film). Bacon is surrounded by a good cast led by Kyra Sedgwick as the sympathetic woman and Mos Def as a commanding police detective.

While THE WOODSMAN is very good; I thought that the pieces of the puzzle fit together a little too perfectly. At first, I thought that setting Walter's apartment across the street from a school was a mistake. You see, there are laws that prohibit this; however, Walter walks off the distance. I found the relationship between Bacon and Sedgwick to be forced, although, a natural chemistry between them exists (their real life marriage wouldn't hurt things).

Seen through Walter's eyes, we all have certain sexual weaknesses and as much as he wants to overcome his, the nagging obsession persists.

RAY

At 152 minutes, RAY plays more like a mini-series than a manageable theater experience. The music is wonderful and the Jamie Foxx captures what one would expect to be the energy of the subject, Ray Charles (Robinson).

Ray Charles had an unbelievable career spanning years and musical genres including R&B, Pop, and even Country Western. RAY's mistake is that it tries to cover the most significant times in his life with excruciating detail. And even though the dark times are displayed in part, there are few moments when Ray Charles is not shown pulling himself out of any scrape causing the movie to fall into a predictable rhythm.

What is fantastic about RAY are the tunes, from Nat King Cole's "Straighten Up And Fly Right," to Charles' "I Got A Woman" and later his prolific "Georgia On My Mind." I found myself tapping my toes and humming along. And Ray Charles' life, like many musicians, is defined by their songs. Therefore, this bio-pic progresses from song-to-song and thus from year-to-year. And that is one way to tell the story of a musician's life. Still, such an approach is a little uninventive.

Warts and all, RAY is fun, if not all that it might have been.

Tune in tomorrow for another day's coverage.

For more information about the Festival visit the festival website: http://www.e.bell.ca/filmfest/2004/default.asp

Jonathan W. Hickman