INTACTO: are Eusebio Poncela and Leonardo Sbaraglia just naturally lucky? AUTO FOCUS: Greg Kinnear and Willem Dafoe find no heroes in the Bob Crane story. BARK: Lisa Kudrow is a veterinarian with a monumental appetite for sex and sweets. SECRETARY: Maggie Gyllenhaal has her own version of the office mating dance.

Here’s the line-up for the final four days of the 18th annual Boston Film Festival:

THURSDAY 12

A Phoenix Pick

8 FEMMES/8 WOMEN

A runaway popular hit but not an award winner at this year’s Berlin Film Festival, Franois Ozon’s campy musical/soap opera/country-house murder mystery provides star turns for eight celebrated French actresses in a hilarious story that encompasses three generations and embraces incest. The time is the 1950s, and the setting is an isolated mansion in the snowy French countryside, where a family have gathered to celebrate the Christmas holidays. But then patriarch Marcel gets bumped off? Whodunit? Wife Gaby (Catherine Deneuve), who seems fonder of her bourgeois comforts than she is of her daughters or her husband? Gaby’s mother (Danielle Darrieux), who has moved into her daughter’s home? Gaby’s repressed old-maid sister, Augustine (Isabelle Huppert)? Elder daughter Suzon (Virginie Ledoyen)? Younger daughter Catherine (Ludivine Sagnier)? Then there’s Marcel’s sister, Pierrette (Fanny Ardant), who shows up unexpectedly — and don’t overlook long-time housekeeper Mme. Chanel (Firmine Richard), or steamy new chambermaid Louise (Emmanuelle BŽart).

You’ll also want to ask yourself whether Marcel is really dead, since we don’t get to see the body, and of course the house has been cut off by the snowstorm, so there’s no doctor to confirm the death and no police to investigate it. Not that it’s easy to focus on the murder mystery when the eight ladies keep indulging in over-the-top song and dance numbers. You may not be edified by this lightweight effort, but only Scrooge or the Grinch wouldn’t be amused. In French with English subtitles. (104 minutes) Screens at the Boston Common tonight at 7 and 9:45 p.m. and tomorrow at 11 a.m. and 1:30 and 4:15 p.m. Director Franois Ozon will be present at tonight’s 7 p.m. show.

— Jeffrey Gantz

A Phoenix Pick

INTACTO

Juan Carlos Fresnadillo’s debut film posits an intriguing world view: some people are naturally lucky. They survive (and not without guilt) accidents, diseases, bullfights, gunfights — and yet their luck is also a transferable commodity.

Max von Sydow stars as a Holocaust survivor and casino owner obsessed with the giving and taking of luck. His long-time protŽgŽ (a brilliant Eusebio Poncela) falls from grace and turns to mentoring a thief (Leonardo Sbaraglia) who’s the sole survivor of a plane wreck. They are tracked by a tough, lonely cop (an impressive M—nica L—pez), another near-death escapee. Engaging in increasingly odd games of chance, these luck bearers risk their lives to ascend to the next level. Fresnadillo’s slick thriller melds stylish cinematography with relentless pacing toward a stunning, brutal finale — think Reservoir Dogs by way of The Devil’s Backbone. In English and Spanish with English subtitles. (108 minutes) Screens at the Boston Common today at 11 a.m. and 1:30 and 4:15 p.m.

Peg Aloi

A Phoenix Pick

THE JIMMY SHOW

Actor/director Frank Whaley’s film is like Martin Scorsese’s The King of Comedy without the comedy. After his all too convincing portrait of a hopeless and tormented adolescent in his 1999 debut film, Joe the King, Whaley sets out to depress you for good with this portrait of a hopeless and tormented adult.

Neither is Jimmy O’Brien (Whaley) much of a charmer, just another deluded schmuck leading a life of not-so-quiet desperation with his invalid mother, his sweet, long-suffering wife (Carla Gugino), and his unplanned daughter. The latter two should provide him with sufficient sunshine, but Jimmy insists on taking his woes to the open-mike nights of local comedy clubs, where he demonstrates that his sense of humor is on a par with his common sense. The years of nowhere jobs and drained six-packs lead to one unpleasant punch line, "This isn’t funny." Which is kind of funny in itself, but mostly The Jimmy Show is a devastating, wrenchingly performed portrayal of loss, futility, inadequacy, and rage. (96 minutes) Screens at the Copley Place today at noon and 2:30 and 5 p.m.

Peter Keough

KISS THE BRIDE

The stunning success of My Big Fat Greek Wedding has us all bracing for an onslaught of bland, low-budget "ethnic" romantic comedies. Local first-time director Vanessa Parise’s Italian version is one of the first to arrive, and it doesn’t bode well for the future. It’s got the sibling conflict, the cultural and generational differences, the chaotic wedding preparations, the wacky relatives, the dotty grandma, and the TV-episode sensibility. It doesn’t have the plucky, believable characters that gave Wedding its appeal, however, but rather cookie-cutter caricatures enacting an ersatz formula of life as regular people live it.

The Sposato (Italian for "married") sisters of Westerly, Rhode Island, have grown up into four representative stereotypes. The Harvard-educated eldest (Vanessa Parise) compromises her integrity to succeed as a TV actress in Hollywood, the next-oldest (Brooke Langton) sacrifices her personal life to be "a swinging dick on Wall Street," and the youngest (Monet Mazur) tries to out-rebel them all by becoming a rocker and taking on a lesbian lover. Only daughter #3 (Amanda Detmer), who’s marrying a baseball-cap-wearing local boy (Sean Patrick Flanery), seems content with her lot in life, and the sooner the other three agree with her, the sooner this mostly phony film will be over. Burt Young and Talia Shire bring some fire to their portrayals of the parents, but does anybody believe they could have produced these four women? (88 minutes) Screens at the Boston Common tonight at 7:15 and 10 p.m. and tomorrow at 11:30 a.m. and 2 and 4:30 p.m.

— Peter Keough

A Phoenix Pick

RABBIT-PROOF FENCE

Director Phillip Noyce (Patriot Games) returns to his native continent with this based-in-fact film that has already caused considerable controversy Down Under. In 1931, the "White Australia Policy" decreed that "half-caste" Aboriginal children fathered by whites would be forcibly removed from their homes and trained for domestic servitude. Many of these children were fathered by the men who built and maintained the rabbit-proof fence that bisects Australia. The heroines of Noyce’s story, Molly, Daisy, and Gracie, are taken from their mothers in Jigalong and sent to a settlement 1200 miles away — but with plucky Molly (Everlyn Sampi in an impressive debut — see "Film Culture," on page 12) leading the way, the girls escape, traveling by night and foraging for food as they search for and follow the fence that will lead them back home.

Pieced together from letters and police reports, the straightforward narrative refuses to demonize the government’s actions. Kenneth Branagh is understated as the official overseeing the investigation; Walkabout’s David Gulpilil is superb as a silent tracker who may be torn between duty and racial loyalty. Peter Gabriel’s evocative score and Christopher Doyle’s gorgeous photography enliven this glimpse into Australia’s dark imperialistic past. (94 minutes) Screens at the Copley Place tonight at 7:30 and 9:45 p.m. and tomorrow at 12:15, 2:45, and 5 p.m.

— Peg Aloi

A Phoenix Pick

7 DAYS IN SEPTEMBER

Even from the perspective of time, it often seems that an event as enormous as September 11 can be apprehended only in pieces. So it’s appropriate that Steve Rosenbaum’s expertly edited work splices the video of 27 amateur NYC filmmakers into a hugely affecting series of arresting moments. A dumbstruck passer-by gazes up and wonders aloud, "How do you put a fire out that high?" A tiny sparrow hops confusedly along a debris-strewn sidewalk. Cars line up for blocks to donate relief supplies. A motley crowd in Union Square Park argue vociferously over a graffito contending that "THE AMERICAN FLAG PROPAGATES VIOLENCE." Volume and viciousness escalate until a dusty and bloodied worker, fresh from Ground Zero, pleads for a stop. "What are we arguing about?!" he demands, and the combatants collapse into tearful embraces.

These glimpses coalesce into a narrative tracing a week of terrible beauty — of shock and grief and frustration and, finally, inklings of healing. A year later, it’s apparent that rather than chafing old wounds, Rosenbaum’s beautiful, empathetic film, with its quietly triumphant conclusion, is a necessary salve. (94 minutes) Screens at the Boston Common today at 11:30 a.m. and 2 and 4:30 p.m.

— Mike Miliard

SKINS

The specter of vigilantism stalks the Pine Ridge reservation in Chris Eyre’s uneven but involving melodrama about family dysfunction and social injustice. Rudy (Eric Schweig) is a local sheriff fed up with watching his people get drunk and kick the shit out of each other, and so, prompted by spirits and a hit on the head, he decides to exceed his legal authority. He may also be motivated by the sight of his Vietnam-vet older brother, Mogie (Graham Greene), drinking himself to death, or by flashbacks to seeing his loaded dad beat on his mother.

Whatever Rudy’s reasons, he only makes matters worse in a world of squalor, despair, and oppression that’s captured by Eyre with an eye for pathos and wry humor. More of the latter would be welcome, as it was in the director’s engagingly absurd 1998 first feature, Smoke Signals, especially since Green and Schweig are in top form as their beleaguered but undefeated characters balance laughter and tears. The film is more powerful as a personal drama than as a political tract, and its dŽnouement might seem dubious to some a year after September 11. (87 minutes) Screens at the Copley Place today at 12:15 p.m.

— Peter Keough

A Phoenix Pick

TULLY

A low-key contemporary East of Eden, Hilary Birmingham’s film slyly unfolds its tale of family secrets while evoking a world that has the feel of a real place inhabited by real people. Like the title hero, Tully Coates (Anson Mount), a hayseed Don Juan who helps out on his dad’s Nebraska farm but doesn’t seem to have much ambition beyond maintaining his car and finding someone to share the back seat with him. His straight-arrow younger brother Earl (Glenn Fitzgerald) disapproves, and when level-headed Ella Smalley (Julianne Nicholson) returns from college, she’s one more thing dividing them. Meanwhile, mysterious bills threaten to bring foreclosure on the property, and the film seems in danger of taking a soap-opera spin.

First-time director Birmingham, however, knows that the virtue of Tully is its faithfulness to the lives it dramatizes. The film’s pace remains unhurried, its performances remain unhistrionic, and its fields and flyblown habitations remain unchanged despite the emotional convulsions and bittersweet resolutions. This is a splendidly crafted miniature of a movie. (102 minutes) Screens at the Copley Place tonight at 7 and 9:45 p.m. and tomorrow at noon and 2:30 and 4:45 p.m. Director Hilary Birmingham will be present at tonight’s 7 p.m. show.

— Peter Keough

THE WAY HOME

Somewhere Pauline Kael described a certain type of foreign film as having the cute-child/clean-old-man syndrome. South Korean director Lee Jung-Hyang’s effort is a variation, a bratty-child/dirty-old-woman movie.

Seven-year-old Seoul city boy Sang-Woo is left by his young, distraught mother with his grandmother in the sticks. He doesn’t find the old lady, who’s mute and bent perpendicular, much company except to abuse, and when his Game Boy runs out of batteries, things get a little desperate. For the viewer, too, as the director tries to re-create the slow patterns and the sublimities of the everyday by highlighting the inane and the sentimental. Cuteness and mawkishness stand in for genuine feeling, and despite his contrived conversion, Sang-Woo remains an insufferable little shit. The Way Home is beautiful to look at, and touching at times when Lee lingers over some of the old woman’s equally moribund friends. But for an unsentimental treatment of a similar theme, he should take a tip from Hou Hsiao-hsien’s A Summer at Grandpa’s. In Korean with English subtitles. (85 minutes) Screens at the Copley Place today at 3:30 p.m. and Sunday at 1:30 and 3:30 p.m.

— Peter Keough

FRIDAY 13

A Phoenix Pick

AUTO FOCUS

Paul Schrader’s fun bio-pic follows TV star Bob Crane (Hogan of Hogan’s Heroes) step by step into degradation. We meet Crane as a family man with a side interest in men’s magazines. He becomes addicted to sleazy sex and video technology: long after his show is cancelled, he continues as the hero of an endless home-porn series.

Greg Kinnear’s performance captures the reflex perkiness of a TV personality who can’t help being "likable." He’s well matched by Willem Dafoe as a dark angel who gets darker as the years fly (the movie’s message seems to be that the longer you know people, the more obvious it becomes that they’re screwed up). As Crane’s world implodes, contrasty hand-held shots take over from bright, stable, retro-colored images; this strategy is effective in a predictable way but cancels out depth, making the story feel tacky rather than awful. The film is strong on wardrobe: Crane’s collection of cardigans (he never wears the same one twice) is as impressive as his string of pushovers. (104 minutes) Screens at the Boston Common tonight at 7 and 9:45 p.m. and tomorrow at 11 a.m. and 1:45 and 4:30 p.m.

— Chris Fujiwara

LOVE IN THE TIME OF MONEY

Writer/director Peter Mattei creates a stylized atmosphere, but the vignettes he fills it with aren’t quite as edgy as their backdrop. Each situation finds a character from a preceding encounter passing the dramatic baton to the next player, in a not particularly inspired use of the six-degrees-of-separation narrative convention. Sex and sexual depravity figure heavily; the most engaging episodes involve a well-to-do husband and wife who confess to each other their desire "to sleep with other men" and a suicidal stockbroker who can’t pull the trigger. Elsewhere, Mattei ratchets up the tension with overwrought dialogue, and some of the scenarios are stilted and woefully staged. The eclectic cast includes Steve Buscemi, Carol Kane, Jill Hennessy, Michael Imperioli, and the lovely Rosario Dawson, but their admirable efforts can’t lift Love beyond its passŽ trappings. (88 minutes) Screens at the Copley Place tonight at 7:15 and 9:45 p.m. and tomorrow at 12:15, 2:45, and 5 p.m.

— Tom Meek

A Phoenix Pick

THE QUIET AMERICAN

What would Graham Greene make of the present time, with its undercurrents of terrorism, conspiracy, regional conflict, and reactionary retrenchment? Sounds a bit like the backdrop to his 1956 novel The Quiet American, which is seen here in Phillip Noyce’s conventional but resolute and moving adaptation. Michael Caine embodies disillusionment as Thomas Fowler, a London Times "reporter" — he refuses to accept the title "correspondent" because it implies involvement — assigned to Saigon in 1952 at the height of the French war against the Communist insurgency. But Fowler is involved — with Phuong (Do Hai Yen), an orphaned bourgeois beauty whom he’s rescued from the ranks of taxi dancers.

Enter Pyle (Brendan Fraser), an American aid worker, and the type of person, as Fowler points out in his sometimes intrusive voiceover, likely to confuse a woman with a cause or a country. The ambiguous friendship and the volatile rivalry between Fowler and Pyle parallel the disintegrating military situation as a "Third Force" arises between the colonials and the Communists; and Fraser’s beefy charm holds up well against Caine’s whiskey-seasoned cynicism, proving that innocence and idealism are always the best disguise. More pointed in its politics than the 1958 Joseph L. Mankiewicz version, this American has the vantage of historical hindsight, if not more tolerant times. And maybe it, too, is prescient about a catastrophic conflict in the making. (100 minutes) Screens tonight at the Copley Place at 7 and 9:15 p.m. and tomorrow at 11:45 a.m. and 2 and 4:15 p.m.

— Peter Keough

A Phoenix Pick

STANDING IN THE SHADOW OF MOTOWN

Behind all the great Motown sounds of the ’60s (the Supremes, Marvin Gaye, Stevie Wonder, Smokey Robinson, and so on) was a pit full of musicians who paced each recording artist to the top of the charts. Paul Justman’s soulful documentary traces the formation of the eclectic group known as the Funk Brothers and the relative anonymity they "enjoyed" while their sound was being splattered all over Top 40 radio. The film interweaves footage of the reunited still living Brothers performing Motown’s timeless hits with such contemporary stars as Bootsy Collins, Joan Osborne, and Ben Harper; and Justman captures the essence of the politically tumultuous era without taking the bully pulpit — this intimate portrayal remains focused on the musicians and their infectious music. (108 minutes) Screens at the Boston Common tonight at 7:15 and 10 p.m. and tomorrow at 11:15 a.m. and 2 and 4:45 p.m. Director Paul Justman and historian Allan "Dr. Licks" Slutsky will be present at tonight’s 7:15 show.

— Tom Meek

THE WARRIOR

Who is this warrior? For a long time, in Asif Kapadia’s confused, ineptly directed period saga, it seems to be a little boy, who, following Joseph Campbell’s "rules," should grow up to be a mighty swordsman. A man-with-a-thousand-faces post–Star Wars hero. Suddenly, that boy is mowed down, and the warrior turns out to be his dour, sour, guilt-ridden dad, Lafcadia (Irfan Khan), who has been a throat slitter and terrorist-in-residence for an evil feudal lord.

Much of this tiresome movie has Lafcadia moving from terrain to terrain while feeling sorry for himself. Where’s the action? It’s hard to imagine a less exciting climactic swordfight, or, up high in the mountains, a less uplifting spiritual conclusion. This warrior is a wuss. In Hindi with English subtitles. (86 minutes) Screens tonight at the Copley Place at 7:30 and 9:30 p.m. and tomorrow at noon and 2:15 and 4:45 p.m.

— Gerald Peary

SATURDAY 14

BARK

Peter (Lee Tergesen), an amiable Hollywood slacker of sorts, is hit with the reality that his wife, Lucy (Heather Morgan), a dog walker, has ceased talking and now only barks. The how and why of her affliction is never explained, though a visit from Lucy’s seemingly normal family offers a few clues. Rather than seek professional help, Peter enlists the aid of a veterinarian (Friends’ Lisa Kudrow) with a monumental appetite for sex and sweets; he also seeks out a dysfunctional health-care practitioner (Vincent D’Onofrio). Written by Morgan and directed by Kasia Adamik, Bark begins with a heartwarming premise, but as Peter addresses the situation in the most preposterous fashion, the film lists toward the absurd. Kudrow and D’Onofrio do their best to provide comedic firepower, but they can’t keep this one from going to the dogs. (94 minutes) Screens at the Copley Place tonight at 7:15 and 9:30 p.m.

— Tom Meek

BIG SHOT’S FUNERAL

In Beijing to do a new version of the same true story that served as the basis for Bernardo Bertolucci’s The Last Emperor, famed American director Don Tyler (Donald Sutherland) experiences creative meltdown but makes a new friend in local cameraman YoYo (Ge You). After suffering a stroke that he’s convinced will be his end, Tyler charges YoYo with giving him a grand "comedy funeral." YoYo and his entrepreneur friend (Ying Da) turn the funeral into a big media event and auction off advertising space — unaware that Tyler has recovered and is monitoring their progress from his hospital bed.

This outlandish satire, a smash hit in China, is directed with none too subtle a hand by Feng Xiaogang. What Big Shot’s Funeral lacks in nuance it makes up for in berserk energy and indiscriminate cynicism. The tone shifts wildly from scene to scene; various cows, sacred and otherwise, are butchered; and the film becomes quite fascinating for what it suggests about Chinese attitudes toward the West and capitalism. Too bad it’s not more rigorous, or wittier. In Mandarin with English subtitles. (108 minutes) Screens at the Boston Common tonight at 7:30 and 10:15 p.m. and tomorrow at 11 a.m. and 1:45 and 4:30 p.m.

— Chris Fujiwara

A Phoenix Pick

CITY OF GOD

The title oozes irony: the city-within-Rio where this coked-up film from K‡tia Lund and Fernando Meireilles takes place is a 1960s-built sun-baked insta-slum of identical crumbling tin-roofed buildings where criminals, young and super-young, run wild, where the toughest police fear to tread, and where pistols and drugs are more prevalent than TV sets. The narrator of the flashback story is a kid from the hood who has somehow become a law-abiding photojournalist. He’s about the only character in the cast of hundreds who squeezes by without murdering anyone or getting assassinated himself. Otherwise, The City of God is a two-hour blood shower, with many of the killings (though hardly all) attributable to the slum kingpin, whom we watch shooting people down from about the age of eight. If this is your thing, you’ll find The City of God a work of virtuosity, with action scenes in overdrive, from filmmakers who have absorbed Scorsese, Coppola, and Tarantino and have plenty of cinematic pizzazz of their own. In Portuguese with English subtitles. (131 minutes) Screens at the Copley Place tonight at 7 and 9:45 p.m. and tomorrow at 2 and 5 p.m.

— Gerald Peary

A Phoenix Pick

LAWLESS HEART

As it was in their clever low-budget debut, Boyfriends, the centerpiece of this tale of dysfunction among rural Brits from Neil Hunter and Tom Hunsinger is a gay man’s funeral. We see the effects of Stuart’s death on three men left behind as the narrative is recycled to show each one’s perspective. Partner Nick (Tom Hollander) is left shattered and skint; brother-in-law Dan (Bill Nighy), a married farmer, sinks into a midlife crisis; prodigal bohemian cousin Tim (Douglas Henshall) returns to Essex after years abroad. Chance encounters with women complicate their lives: kind, slovenly Charlie (Sukie Smith) comforts and confuses Nick; glamorous florist Corinne (ClŽmentine CŽlariŽ) befriends and frightens Dan; cool, sexy Leah (Josephine Butler) enchants fancy-free Tim. Supported here by fine ensemble acting (Henshall and Hollander shine), an intriguing structure, and a standout soundtrack from the Waterboys’ Adrian Johnston, this promising duo are giving a needed jolt to Brit cinema, striding beyond Mike Leigh’s controlled histrionics, Guy Ritchie’s gimmicks, and the darkness of the Glasgow school. (86 minutes) Screens at the Copley Place tonight at 7:30 and 10 p.m. and tomorrow at 12:15, 2:15 and 4:15 p.m.

— Peg Aloi

A Phoenix Pick

SECRETARY

"Different strokes for different folks" applies to this wry story about sado-masochism — though in the end it’s hard to see how anyone could object to such a wholesome romantic comedy. Lee Holloway (Maggie Gyllenhaal) has just checked out of the clinic that’s been treating her for self-mutilation, but the ongoing dysfunction of her family and her concealed sewing kit of sharp-edged objects suggests she hasn’t been cured. Nonetheless, she takes on a job as a secretary for Mr. Grey (James Spader), an attorney who turns out to have a few kinks in his own cables. Gyllenhaal and Spader bring tenderness and sting to an offbeat mating dance that proves touching, hilarious, and erotic. And Steven Shainberg’s assured but quirky adaptation of the Mary Gaitskill short story evokes a near-dreamlike strangeness in details and mood that enhances the painfully familiar humanity of its protagonists. (104 minutes) Screens at the Boston Common tonight at 7:15 and 10 p.m. and tomorrow at 11:30 a.m. and 2:15 and 5 p.m.

— Peter Keough

SUNDAY 15

NO NEW NEWS FROM GOD

No News is not necessarily good news — at least, not when Spanish director August’n D’az Yanes tries to combine Pulp Fiction and Dogma with a faux Pedro Almod—var flamboyance. In lieu of the absentee deity, the ever-celestial Fanny Ardant is in charge of Heaven (which is a Paris nightclub shot in black-and-white), and she assigns angelic agent Victoria Abril to the task of saving an obnoxious macho boxer (Demi‡n Bichir) whose soul, for some reason, is the key to victory over the powers of Hell (a corporate prison camp where English is the native tongue). Countering Abril is PenŽlope Cruz as the hard-bitten, navel-baring diabolical emissary. Visually diverting but otherwise uninspired, God wastes its outstanding cast: it’s a lot less campy, irreverent, and sexy than it could have been, and in the middle it bogs down into a tiresome melodrama unredeemed by its occasional satirical flares and flashes of irreverent, eschatological whimsy. In Spanish with English subtitles. (115 minutes) Screens at the Copley Place tonight at 7 and 9 p.m.

— Peter Keough

RESPIRO

Grazia (Valeria Golino), the free-spirited, possibly bipolar wife of island fisherman Pietro (Vincenzo Amato), is "a woman under the influence" of neo-realism, as Emanuele Crialese’s beautifully photographed pseudo-mythic soap opera exiles Cassavetes’s beleaguered heroine to Roberto Rossellini’s Stromboli. Grazia’s teenage son, Pasquale (Francesco Casisa), is merely bemused, if bewildered, by her impulse to swim topless at the beach or jump on board strangers’ pleasure boats; however her husband, her extended family, and most of the island community agree that she should be sent to a specialist in Milan. So Respiro turns out to be a contrived fable concerning the conflict between freedom and social repression with a few heavy-handed metaphors tossed in. Which is a shame, because the faces of Crialese’s cast are fascinating in themselves, and the island of Lampedusa on which the film is shot is a sun-blasted showcase of the stark, the surreal, and the sublime. It all deserves better than to be reduced to sophomoric symbolism. In Italian with English subtitles. (90 minutes) Screens at the Boston Common tonight at 7:45 and 9:45 p.m.

— Peter Keough

SEARCHING FOR PARADISE

Boston native Myra Paci’s film is two parts coming-of-age story and one part Hollywood satire. As she prepares to graduate from high school, Gilda Mattei (Susan May Pratt of Center Stage) is uncertain about her future. Her Italian immigrant father is dying of an unspecified ailment, so she decides to stay home to help her mother care for him, all the while becoming increasingly obsessed with the fictional movie star Michael De Santis (Chris Noth). After her father’s death, Gilda goes on a quest for De Santis, eventually finding him on a film set in Virginia.

Noth has great fun playing the self-involved, pretentious star, and Pratt is touching as a young woman confused and consumed by grief. The film veers off into weird stalker territory as Gilda videotapes her ramblings about De Santis, but it eventually regains its footing and returns to the family drama that seems a little closer to life. (88 minutes) Screens at the Boston Common tonight at 7:30 and 9:30 p.m.

— Brooke Holgerson