Sarah Polley

Some people leap from frying pan into the fire. Fiona (Julie Christie) vaults from frying pan into freezer when she puts skillet into icebox, recognizing it as the onset of the Alzheimer's that will overwhelm her marriage of 44 years. A remarkable character study from actress-turned-director Sarah Polley, Away From Her is a triumph for Christie, who like Helen Mirren and Diane Keaton, grows lovelier and more compelling with every performance. But it's also a particular challenge for the animated actress as she is the vital presence who withers before us. (If Christie doesn't get an Oscar nomination, there is no justice)

An ill-suited match of director and material - Hollywood action auteur Kathryn Bigelow and the ghostly, flashbacking mystery novel by Anita Shreve - The Weight of Water shows glimmers of great drama, but jettisons too much essential cargo (character development, relationships, plot, common sense) in an effort to be lean and clean. Set in the present day, and reimagining the events around an 1873 murder of two women on an island off the New England coast, Weight of Water puts a smart photojournalist (Catherine McCormack)

Beneath its hipster facade, the clever caper comedy "Go" is really pretty square when it comes down to the moral of the story. "Go" has a complicated narrative, with multiple stories and characters, but its message goes something like this: Crime does not pay, and drugs will get you in trouble, but not as much trouble as couch dancing. "Go" goes in three directions from a single starting point: a supermarket cashier (Sarah Polley) makes a fateful decision to stand in for a friend (Desmond Askew)

The looming specter of death - among lovers, among family members, among children - has long been the stuff of weepy TV movies and overripe fiction. (Not to mention critics who get to write lines like "the looming specter of death. ") The knowledge of one's impending demise, and the pressure that knowledge puts on the individual and his or her loved ones, makes for speeded-up conflict and hothouse theatrics. The beautiful thing about My Life Without Me - an intriguing character study starring Sarah Polley - is that it will have none of that.

Some people go from the frying pan into the fire. Fiona (Julie Christie) leaps from the frying pan into the icebox when she places the skillet in the freezer and recognizes it not as absentmindedness, but as the onset of Alzheimer's that will overwhelm her marriage of 44 years. An incisive character study from rookie filmmaker Sarah Polley, Away From Her is a triumph for Christie, who grows lovelier and more compelling with every performance. It is likewise a triumph for Polley, the Canadian actress of The Sweet Hereafter and Guinevere.

The scenery steals the show from the supermodels in "The Claim," an epic western that pits men and women against the elements and each other in the wintry Sierra Nevada. Forget the dusty landscape of the OK Corral: In director Michael Winterbottom's vision of Gold Rush California, the snow is waist-deep and the wind is howling. It's the foul weather that gets "The Claim's" story, based very loosely on Thomas Hardy's "The Mayor of Casterbridge," rolling. Young prospector Daniel Dillon - one of thousands lured west by the great Gold Rush of 1849 - is so addled by the mountains' vicious winter that he trades away his wife and baby for a few pieces of gold.

This gory and gripping film is the horror version of MTV's Real World: Throw a bunch of strangers together in a neutral domestic situation and see how they get along. Of course, Dawn of the Dead is somewhat complicated by the fact that a throng of ferocious zombies is trying to bust down the door to devour our random band of roomies. The movie takes its title and premise from George Romero's 1978 cult classic. A mysterious, rapidly spreading plague has broken out, turning people into ravenous, cannibalistic zombies.

First-time director Zack Snyder took George Romero's Dawn of the Dead through some pretty serious changes earlier this year, and fans of the 1978 original have swarmed all over him seeking a bit of his flesh. The swipe at consumerism that Romero fans claim to have seen (the alleged undertones are a constant subject of debate) is no more, and Snyder exchanged Philly-based characters for those of . . . Wisconsin. While not the equal of Romero's classics, Snyder's film isn't bad. Weak on script but heavy on blood and splattered brains, it has a high gross-out factor.

Don't Come Knocking, which marks the reunion of Wim Wenders and Sam Shepard 20-plus years after Paris, Texas, begins promisingly. Howard Spence (Shepard), a chiseled star on location making a western, disappears from the set, riding off on his studio horse in his studio cowboy duds, spurs and all. He's determined to get lost, and after trading in his steed (and his spurs), he smashes his cell phone, rips up his credit cards, and hops a bus to his childhood hometown, little Elko, Nev. And then the nonsense begins.

Some people go from the frying pan into the fire. Fiona (Julie Christie) leaps from the frying pan into the icebox when she places the skillet in the freezer and recognizes it not as absentmindedness, but as the onset of Alzheimer's that will overwhelm her marriage of 44 years. An incisive character study from rookie filmmaker Sarah Polley, Away From Her is a triumph for Christie, who grows lovelier and more compelling with every performance. It is likewise a triumph for Polley, the Canadian actress of The Sweet Hereafter and Guinevere.

Some people leap from frying pan into the fire. Fiona (Julie Christie) vaults from frying pan into freezer when she puts skillet into icebox, recognizing it as the onset of the Alzheimer's that will overwhelm her marriage of 44 years. A remarkable character study from actress-turned-director Sarah Polley, Away From Her is a triumph for Christie, who like Helen Mirren and Diane Keaton, grows lovelier and more compelling with every performance. But it's also a particular challenge for the animated actress as she is the vital presence who withers before us. (If Christie doesn't get an Oscar nomination, there is no justice)

Don't Come Knocking, which marks the reunion of Wim Wenders and Sam Shepard 20-plus years after Paris, Texas, begins promisingly. Howard Spence (Shepard), a chiseled star on location making a western, disappears from the set, riding off on his studio horse in his studio cowboy duds, spurs and all. He's determined to get lost, and after trading in his steed (and his spurs), he smashes his cell phone, rips up his credit cards, and hops a bus to his childhood hometown, little Elko, Nev. And then the nonsense begins.

First-time director Zack Snyder took George Romero's Dawn of the Dead through some pretty serious changes earlier this year, and fans of the 1978 original have swarmed all over him seeking a bit of his flesh. The swipe at consumerism that Romero fans claim to have seen (the alleged undertones are a constant subject of debate) is no more, and Snyder exchanged Philly-based characters for those of . . . Wisconsin. While not the equal of Romero's classics, Snyder's film isn't bad. Weak on script but heavy on blood and splattered brains, it has a high gross-out factor.

This gory and gripping film is the horror version of MTV's Real World: Throw a bunch of strangers together in a neutral domestic situation and see how they get along. Of course, Dawn of the Dead is somewhat complicated by the fact that a throng of ferocious zombies is trying to bust down the door to devour our random band of roomies. The movie takes its title and premise from George Romero's 1978 cult classic. A mysterious, rapidly spreading plague has broken out, turning people into ravenous, cannibalistic zombies.

BROTHER BEAR. OK Disney toon about a brash Indian brave (voice of Joaquin Phoenix) transformed into a bear. Great Disney artwork, wholesome story, very formulaic. (PG) B THE CAT IN THE HAT. Drat. It's flat. Cat (Mike Myers) goads two kids into trashing mom's house. Sub-literate, vulgar, witless, a betrayal of everything Dr. Seuss championed. (PG) D ELEPHANT. Gus Van Sant's attempt at poetic response to Columbine massacre, using amateur teens as high school victims, shooters.

The looming specter of death - among lovers, among family members, among children - has long been the stuff of weepy TV movies and overripe fiction. (Not to mention critics who get to write lines like "the looming specter of death. ") The knowledge of one's impending demise, and the pressure that knowledge puts on the individual and his or her loved ones, makes for speeded-up conflict and hothouse theatrics. The beautiful thing about My Life Without Me - an intriguing character study starring Sarah Polley - is that it will have none of that.

An ill-suited match of director and material - Hollywood action auteur Kathryn Bigelow and the ghostly, flashbacking mystery novel by Anita Shreve - The Weight of Water shows glimmers of great drama, but jettisons too much essential cargo (character development, relationships, plot, common sense) in an effort to be lean and clean. Set in the present day, and reimagining the events around an 1873 murder of two women on an island off the New England coast, Weight of Water puts a smart photojournalist (Catherine McCormack)