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Opening Films 

by Inlander Staff


First Daughter -- Katie Holmes plays not only the daughter of the leader of the free world, but a college freshman who just wants to have a normal life. Marc Blucas (Buffy the Vampire Slayer) is not only her dorm's resident advisor but also a Secret Service agent. Can these two crazy kids still date like normal people? Sure they can. Michael ("I'm Batman") Keaton plays the President. Rated: PG





The Forgotten -- When a young mom (Julianne Moore), distraught over the death of her son, is told by her husband and shrink that the son never existed, she freaks out, then starts to find pieces to the puzzle in her confused head. With the help of a fellow (Dominic West) who lost a daughter in the same plane crash, she finds lots of clues, all the while being chased by mysterious agents. The sci-fi-ish story goes on too long, and the ending is disappointing, but acting and visual effects are terrific, so maybe it's OK not to know exactly what's going on. (ES) Rated PG-13





Saddest Music in the World -- Outright lunacy from frame to frame, joke to joke, conceit to conceit, the latest movie by brilliantly precious Winnipeg nutjob Guy Maddin may be his most accessible. It's a feverish snow-bound musical melodrama set in the mid-Great Depression, with beer baroness Lady Port-Huntly (Isabella Rossellini) conducting a worldwide competition for the saddest music in the world. (Typical of Maddin's universe, she's legless and a suitor captures her fancy -- briefly -- with the gift of a set of brew-filled prosthetic glass gams.) Dead sons, doubles, Mark McKinney claiming to be a Yankee Doodle Dandy through and through, Maria de Medeiros obsessing on her talking tapeworm, hockey jokes, bagpipers, mariachis, African and Serbian musicians going head-to-head, anachro-futurist anarchy and singular magic to boot: just another day in Maddin's comfy, overstuffed sofa of a brain. Playing at the Met Sept. 25-30 at 3, 5:30 and 8 pm. (RP)





Shaun of the Dead -- Cheekily cheery, Shaun is the smartest slab of comic wise-assery in an age. With some of the deadpan of The Office and a little of the elevated dumbness of Anchorman, Shaun of the Dead's story of love gone wrong and gore gone right (amid bloodthirsty undead) is genuinely funny. Director Edgar Wright is no Sam Raimi in the pantheon of splatter, but the verbal timing's swell -- and instead of George Romero's mall, we get North London zombies running amok at the local pub. (RP) Rated: R





Publication date: 09/23/04

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