The Cruise

Bennett Miller's gritty black-and-white documentary chronicles the life of eccentric, loquacious New York City tour guide Timothy "Speed" Levitch. When "Speed" isn't pointing out the dicier moments in the lives of Greta Garbo, Arthur Miller, and Thomas Paine from atop a double-decker bus, he's spewing into the camera contemplative bleatings about the city's oppressive grid system and sexually suggestive terra-cotta architecture and his own misanthropic being. To the gaudy nebbish, who looks like John Lennon sans charisma and sounds like Woody Allen on helium, the universe is a neatly compartmentalized dichotomy of "cruise" and "anti-cruise," with the former referring to his carnival-like occupation and free-spirited ideology.

Levitch's stand-up caricature is at once compelling and arrogant; when you learn that he's a frustrated playwright who can barely eke out an existence, it's even contemptible. The dark blend of bleak reality and bubbly wit may depress some and annoy others, but no matter how it affects you, The Cruise is deftly provocative.

-- Tom Meek