Struggling to keep up with a busy fall, lagging a little behind as usual, the reviewer soldiers on…

An Education. Smooth piece of ‘60s nostalgia about anEnglish schoolgirl who must choose between the steady, humdrum life her parentsenvision for her and the bohemian pleasures offered by an exciting butunscrupulous older man. What looks like a routine coming-of-age drama at firstglance comes vividly to life under the judicious direction of Lone Scherfig(one of the original members of the Dogme 95 group, if anyone still remembers),who demonstrates an intense appreciation for what it feels like to be young andintelligent and restless and trapped. As the schoolgirl, the incandescent CareyMulligan simulates a wide assortment of emotions with the ease of a seasonedprofessional.

Fantastic Mr. Fox. Wes Anderson comedy, family-safe butsophisticated enough to pass muster for all but the strictest cinephiles, abouta domesticated fox who falls back on his animal instincts when his family isthreatened by greedy farmers. Roald Dahl’s story proves an ideal opportunityfor Anderson to spin yet another portrait of a youthful spirit struggling toaccept responsible adulthood. The stop-motion techniques and autumnal Englishsettings bring to mind Nick Park, and afford Anderson even more control overhis constructed universe. None of it dampens the fun of the whole enterprise,or cheapens the emotion at its core.

The Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call: New Orleans. Modestlybudgeted Werner Herzog police thriller (you heard correctly) about a wild copwhose back pains lead him from Vicodin to cocaine while investigating a drug-relatedmurder. Highlighted by an expertly cracked Nicolas Cage performance and astrange—and strangely lengthy—interlude involving hallucinatory iguanas, thefilm is as funny as Abel Ferrara’s Bad Lieutenant was anguished. Herzog treatsthe New Orleans environment as he would the jungles of Peru (with plenty ofattention paid to local color), and even the smallest role is interestinglycast and played. Worth seeing as a novelty item, but the all-encompassingweirdness and sordidness of the project is finally taxing.

La Danse. Two-and-a-half hour high-def video documentaryabout the Paris Opera Ballet that observes many arduous rehearsals,performances, and the occasional financier meeting, all without recourse tobackstage drama, narration, interviews, or even a helpful nameplate to identifythe onscreen subject. Frederick Wiseman, legendary practitioner of the directcinema, is the man at the helm, and he never imposes a point of view, so thatthe independent mind is allowed to wander where it likes, picking up straydetails here and there, taking in the atmosphere, admiring the spectacle ofbodies-in-motion. While it’s a far cry from the heated muckraking of TiticutFollies and Law and Order (Wiseman’s little-seen early masterpieces), theviewer is grateful for a piece of filmmaking that doesn’t cajole or bully—inother words, a documentary that is content to document.

The Road. Cormac McCarthy adaptation that waversuncomfortably between brutality and sentimentality, about a father and sonengaged in a long trek across an ashen wasteland—a less spectacular and moresobering vision of the apocalypse than the usual Hollywood fodder. JohnHillcoat’s direction comes briefly to life during a hair-raising scene in thebasement of a band of cannibals, but fails to disguise the story’s lumbering,episodic gait. Viggo Mortensen, looking like a skid row refugee in his soiledsnow coat and grubby beard, rises to the role of father with utmostdedication.