A Prophet (Un Prophete) (FR) Directed by Jacques Audiard  Written by Jacques Audiard; Thomas Bidgeain; Abdel Raouf Dafri; Nicolas Peufaillit  Starring Tahar Rahim; Niels Arestrup; Adel Bencherif; Hichem Yacoubi; Reda Kaleb; Jean-Phillipe Ricci; Leila Behkti; Slimane Dazi

Revanche (DAN) Directed by Gotz Spielman   Written by Gotz Spielman   Starring  Johannes Krisch; Irina Potapenko; Johannes Thanheiser; Ursula Strauss; Andreas Lust

Austrian Gotz Spielman writes and directs this compelling, multi-faceted drama. Set in urban Vienna and the outlying countryside, this modern cinematic tale focuses on Alex (Johannes Krisch), an ex-con thief who works as an assistant in a local brothel, Cindarella. One of the prostitutes is a beautiful, drug addicted Ukranian immigrant, Tamara (Irina Potapenko). $30,000 in debt to unctuous brothel boss Konecny (Hanno Proscl), she is beong pressured by him to move into an apartment to service VIP customers. Alex (who also drives for the gangster/pimp) and Tamara are in love, however, and Alex wants them to escape to Ibiza, where he claims his friend is looking for a partner to invest in a new bar. Alex dreams of making some fast money to finance his and Tamara’s future, while immediately bettering their miserable existence. Though she clearly cares for Alex, Tamara is more fatalistic, surmising that their current existence is simply the hand they’ve been dealt and that everying is “normal”. As the story progresses, complications and tragedy ensue, and the film’s tone takes a decided shift, evolving into a meditation on loss, regret, and redemption. Therefore, although the usual genre plot conventions are initially firmly entrenched, what surpringly emerges is an evolving character study, a change that helps subvert the more obvious course normally asociated with thriller/suspense. Excellent support from actors Ursula Strauss; Andreas Lust; and Johnannes Thanheiser. There are similarities with the work of German Fatih Akin and Danish directors like Nicolas Winding Refn and Susanne Bier.

Antichrist (DAN) Directed by Lars Von Trier  Written by Lars Von Trier  Starring Willem Dafoe; Charlotte Gainsborough; Storm Acheche Sahlstrohm

Antichrist provoked extremes in terms of audience reaction when it debuted at Cannes, response that included booing and walking out of the theater, although conversely Charlotte Gainsborough won the festival’s best actress award. Shot by Brit Anthony Dod Mantle (Slumdog Millionaire; Millions; Dogville), the cinematography is nothing short of incredible. Hand held scenes are juxtaposed with sections of exquisite, lyrical beauty. Gone are the severe, self-imposed technical limitations instituted by one of the founding members of Dogma 95. Von Trier (who’s beset with a host of fears and anxieties) reportedly wrote the screenplay in response to one of his severe bouts of depression. Broken into chapters, the finished product is constructed as if it were allegory, although the symbolism is perhaps too random and ultimately abstract to actually pin down and make complete sense of. Von Trier, who began making English language films in the mid-90s, has since set most of his efforts in the U.S. (though, with his fear of flying, he hasn’t even visited this country). Nominally based in Seattle (though shot in Germany), this is essentially a two hander about an unnamed couple, He (Willem Dafoe) and She (Charlotte Gainsborough), who lose their young son Nic (Storm Acheche Sahlstrohm) in a tragic accident while enaged in the throes of passionate sex (a blended sequence artistically shot in super slo motion to a Handel aria). She suffers a nervous breakdown, but after her month long hospital stay, therapist He is convinced he can treat his wife’s all encompassing depression himself. The two repair to their isolated cabin in the woods (an area that feels like the Dis-enchanted Forest) to confront her fears. Influenced by Swedish dramatist Strindberg, Von Trier is a Brechtian storyteller, and Antichrist is clearly intended as a take on Gothic horror with a wink (i.e. a fox speaking the words “chaos reigns”). How then are we supposed to digest the philosophy espoused by She proclaiming women evil by nature? The mutilation of genitalia? The graphic sex scenes (porn actors were employed for closeups)? The ironically (?) named woods, Eden? How too can one accurately describe the film as a whole? Disturbing; brutal; visually compelling; depressing; frightening; bravely, powerfully, and physically acted; shocking? It could also, in the same breath, be deemed messy; absurdly self-indulgent; wildly mysoginstic; and perhaps even, pointless. Von Trier has long been criticized for his anti-Americanism and mysogeny. Unlike a film like Dogville, his ongoing indictment of the U.S. isn’t overtly stated, though there is enough disparagement of the female race to more than make up for it. Von Trier continues to challenge the film viewing public with work that defies the formal boundaries of the medium. Whether his verdant, mad concoctions are entirely premediated or not; the work of an artist in search of pure expression or product from a provocateur of the highest order (or something in between), his defiance of convention stretches the limits of narrative film, pushing audience and filmmakers alike in this increasingly barren cinematic andscape. Never a bad thing.

Avatar (USA) Directed by James Cameron  Written by James Cameron  Starring Sam Worthington; Zoe Saldana; Sigourney Weaver; Michelle Rodriguez; Giovanni Ribisi; Stephen Lang; Joel Moore; Laz Alonso; Wes Studi; CC Pounder

From a visual standpoint, Avatar is everything it’s cracked up to be. The 3-D, particularly in an IMAX theater, outdoes ones average trip to the local multiplex by a longshot, with the ability to turn even certain small moments fascinating - particularly in the live action scenes, where it adds pristine detail, imbuing the film with an aesthetic that seems to push the visceral experience closer to some kind of magical live stage spectacular. No doubt, the epic scope of the entire world of this $275 million film is impressive, and writer/ director James Cameron’s obsessive approach to advancing technology has led to steady improvements in 3-D/CGI, re-imagining what is possible for the form.

Fans of big adventure escapism like The Lord of The Rings and the Harry Potter series will likely have little issue with the mythmaking going on here, but others may balk at the rather basic plotting, lack of character development (or, for that matter, credible character), and simplistic, speech laden dialogue filled with lines that too often come off like those uttered in an overwrought War of The Worlds-esque radio play.  Further, as visually stimulating as the film might be, it’s still too long by at least a half hour.

The attractive leads - Aussie Sam Worthington as Jake Sully, a parapalegic ex-marine, and Zoe Saldana (okay, so we don’t actually see in her human form, but we know what she looks like, right?) as Na’vi princess Neytiri are fine (if a bit bland), and admittedly it’s kind of fun to see the embodiment of Cameron’s Alien lead Ellen Ripley (Sigourney Weaver) playing scientist Dr. Grace Augustine. Villains Parker Sefridge (Giovanni Ribisi) and (especially) Colonel Mills (Stephen Lang), however, are absurdly over the top, comic book creations without the slightest nuance offered to balance the scales. Cameron’s anti-war/pro-environmental message, as right-minded as it might be, is ham handedly delivered through the mouths of these stock evil-doer constructs, and they spew a steady stream of jingoistic inanities as they express their desire to conquer, rape, and pillage the imaginary forest land (Pandora) of the giant, blue, indigenous tree people.  At least the bad guys are Americans, though, and so the disparaged party is not some vaguely identified third world country as is the normal course in big budget action/war flicks.  

As gloriously constructed as some of the action sequences may be, there is more than a little repetition as the film proceeds. The 3-D is fun, and Pandora is interesting to look at for a spell, but at its heart this is not much more than your average animated fantasy epic, a little too in love with the cleverness of its invention, and nowhere near groundbreaking when it comes to story. Jim Cameron has been quoted saying that what we see represents the future of film, and that we will henceforth need to reconsider how we view acting performances. His overall point involves the premise that this technical process is somehow beneficial to actors because it utlilizes their movements and facial expressions to help create the animated images. It seems like a convoluted perspective at best, one unimstakedly eminating from a filmmaker who considers actors mere window dressing, present mostly to serve the cinematography, the CGI, and the many gadgets and post production tricks available in this very rich man’s arsenal. The obvious implication in what he is really saying, of course, is that they’re lucky we’re using them at all since we can do it all ourselves if we choose to.

Avatar is worthy of some of the hype, at least in regards to the magnificence of the technology, but take away the glam and glitter and there remains a semi-hollow, paint-by-numbers kids fable that is ultimately adds up to little more than an overextended allegory. Of course, the same might be said of Star Wars, or the previously mentioned epics of recent years, and all of these franchises certainly put a lot of rear ends in the seats and moved a lot of DVD units and ancillary merchandise, and that, of course, is the whole idea. While Avatar  is undoubtedly a relatively fun couple of hours, one wonders if Cameron’s latest love child is closer to an amusement park ride or video game than a work of cinema, and the implications of what it all means for the art form are potentially fairly dire, the director’s hubris notwithstanding.

Crazy Heart (USA) Directed by Scott Cooper  Written by Scott Cooper  Starring Jeff Bridges; Maggie Gyllenhaal; Robert Duvall; Colin Farrell; Jack Nation; Paul Herman; James Keane

Sixty year old Jeff Bridges, the architect of memorable characters like Jeff “The Dude” Lebowski from The Big Lebowski; Jack Baker from The Fabulous Baker Boys; President Jack Evans from The Contender ; and Duane Jackson from The Last Picture Show , sometimes gets overlooked when discussions of our finest actors take place, perhaps because his work is so naturalistic that there may be a tendency to forget he is acting.

Son of Lloyd; brother of Beau, Bridges has been plying his trade since the age of two, working steadily and consistently - first on TV, then in film.  The California native has been married for thirty years to the same woman, fathered three children, and is something of a renaissance man with a penchant for photography, illustration, and music (he even recorded an album, Be Here Soon, in 2000).

Here, he stars as Houston based Otis “Bad” Blake, a hard drinking/smoking/womanizing country singer/ songwriter in the mode of Townes Van Zandt (whose music is on the soundtrack) or Kris Kristofferson, with a little Hank Williams; Johnny Cash; and/or Waylon Jennings thrown in for good measure. Riddled with poor health; married multiple times; estranged from a son he never took care of or saw, Bad is enmeshed in the downslope of a once successful career, playing in dive bars for those who want to re-live his hits from long ago. Bridges is truly potent as Bad, his wild hair, beefy frame, booze-soaked skin, and bloodhsot eyes merely the most visible signs of a messy life lived on the edge.

Maggie Gyllenhaal plays Jean Craddock, a single mother and music reporter from Santa Fe New Mexico, who is decades younger then the fifty seven year old song man, but has endured her share of heartache. The two, along with Jean’s four year old son, Buddy (Jack Nation), enter into a relationship that serves as the core of the film. Robert Duvall (who helped produce; and who himself played a country crooner with a sordid personal past, Mac Sledge, in 1983s Tender Mercies) is Bad’s older friend/employer, bar owner Wayne, and Colin Farrell takes a small role as a famous singer Tommy Sweet, who got his start in Bad’s band. Though Tommy is the source of Bad’s jealousy and resentment, he too provides the grizzled bad boy an opportunity at artistic relevance and perhaps even some form of personal redemption.

Partnering with Stephen Bruton, the music was done by T-Bone Burnett (O Brother Where Art Thou), and the soundtrack includes contributions from George Jones; Buck Owens; the aforementioned Van Zandt and Jennings; and relative newcomer, Texan Ryan Bingham, who wrote the theme song The Weary Kind. Bridges had previously worked with Burnett and Bruton on Heaven’s Gate  (1980), Michael Cimino’s classic commerical flop. In that film, long time friends and collaborators Bruton and Burnett were part of the on screen band, while Bridges was one of the lead actors. Bruton, who was dying of cancer at the time of Crazy Heart’s filming (and died some time after its completion), became something of a model for Bridges, who used some of Bruton’s experiences and characteristics in shaping Bad.

The plot is hardly innovative, and there is some lack of delving into the source(s) of Bad’s pain that ultimately keeps the film out of the realm of cinema classic. First time director, actor Scott Cooper (who also adapted the Thomas Cobb novel), doesn’t stray far from other films with similar subject matter like Nashville; Payday; (the previously mentioned) Tender Mercies; Songwriter; Forty Shades of Blue, and various other country music biopics that have mined similar territory, but the music is solid, and Bridges’ performance is good enough to help distinguish this one as among the best of a solid bunch.

Bright Star (2009) Directed by Jane Campion  Written by Jane Campion  Starring Abbie Cornish; Ben Wishaw; Paul Schneider; Kerry Fox; Edie Martin; Thomas Sangster; Gerard Monaco; Antonia Campbell-Hughes; Olly Alexander

New Zealand’s Jane Campion (The Piano) directs this beautifully composed story of the love affair between Romantic poet John Keats (Ben Wishaw) and Frances “Fanny” Brawne (Abbie Cornish), a previously unserious type with a love of witticisms, flirtation, and a talent for dressmaking. Australian native Cornish (Somersault; Stop-Loss) is perhaps best known as the real life girlfriend of Reese Witherspoon’s ex Ryan Phillipe (she was at the center of the controversy over their split), but she is a gifted young actress who lights up the screen as a woman experiencing all encompassing love for the first time. American Indie fave Paul Schneider plays Charles Armitage Brown, a man dedicated to the talent of his friend Keats, who is protective of his talent and suspicious (and perhaps even jealous) of the mutually obsessive love that develops between Fanny and the poet. The story is based on the real life events in the lives of these neighbors, who lived next door to one another at Wentworth Place. Keats suffered from Tuberculosis, and died in 1821 at age twenty five. During his short life, he was harshly received by critics, and never experienced popular or financial success of any kind. Both Keats and Fanny came from similar backgrounds, as both of their fathers were London Innkeepers. At the time of their meeting, however, Fanny’s family was comfortable, while Keats was impoverished, a fact that made their coupling a near impossibility. Though the story is obviously a tragically romantic one, Campion resists the kind of overly dramatic flourishes often seen in films of the type. The plot is familiar, with all the angst one expects from a tale focusing on the ill-timed meeting of two early 19th century would-be lovers, but the relationship is (for the genre) subtley detailed. Sumptuous visuals (from cinematographer Greig Fraser) and understated elegance mark this well calibrated historical drama

An Education (BRIT) Directed by Lone Scherfig  Written by Nick Hornby  Starring Carey Mulligan; Peter Skarskaard; Alfred Molina; Cara Seymour; Olivia Willimas; Emma Thompson; Dominic Cooper; Rosemund Pike

Movies - or, at least those intended for a mass commercial market, have historically depended on casting actors who are well known to the paying public. Often the very films themselves are based around the on screen personas these leading men and women have established throughout their careers, with producers and studios depending on this symbiotic relationship between stars and their audiences. It’s nice then to view a bigger film headed by an actor who was previously unknown to most ticket buyers - even better when the actor highlighted is one who seems so obviously destined for a long and successful career

The actor in question, and centerpiece of An Education, is one Carey Mulligan, a fresh faced twenty four year old Brit who has done most of her previous work on the English stage and in television.  Playing  precocious sixteen/seventeen year old high school student Jenny, Mulligan looks appropriately young, and is fittingly brimming with dewey-eyed eagerness, underpinned emotion, and energy. One is struck by the notion of an actor being perfectly cast. 

Directed by fifty year old female Dane Lone Scherfig (Italian for Beginners), An Education is based on  journalist Lynn Bolber’s slim memoir, which detailed her romantic relationship with an older man. Set in 1961, still the beginning of the famed mod period in London, the screenplay is by novelist Nick Hornby (High Fidelity; About a Boy), who took the basics of the source material  (which was originally published in the literary journal Granta) and ran with it.

While Mulligan’s presence dominates the film, the rest of the cast is also excellent: Peter Skarsgaard (as Jew David Goldman) does a British variation on his usual semi-creepy guy; Alfred Molina is Jenny’s working class father Jack; Cara Seymour, Mom Marjorie; Emma Thompson, the Headmistress of her all girls school; Olivia Williams, her English teacher, Miss Stubbs; Dominic Cooper, David’s rich, art-collecting/playboy friend Danny; and Rosamund Pike, his vacuous, beautiful blonde girlfriend Helen.

Though the coming of age aspect of the story may be far from novel, Jenny’s internal life is nicely and subtlely evoked. Cello playing, Francophile Jenny longs to attend Oxford to read English, but she is aware that regardless of what lies in the offing there is little available for her professionally besides the promise of teaching at an all girls school like the one she attends. A neophyte aesthete with a youthful pretentious streak, Jenny loves art, literature, music, and film, but desires experiences that, at her age and station, are well beyond the reach of modest suburban London Twickendam.

Thankfully, the film avoids pandering to us or to Jenny’s character by delivering a reasonably rounded portrait of a young woman in the process of trying to grow in a conservative, repressive era when women were afforded little in the way of life choices, and her journey reflects the kinds of mistakes that are an inherent part of this maturation process. If she is exploitated (and there is most definitely an uncomfortable sexual component to the story due to her age), then she at least partially complicit, so desperate is she to discover all that life has in store, regardless of (and perhaps even because of) the narrow path she has been told is her destiny.

Summer Hours (L’heure d’ete) (FR) Directed by Olivier Assayas  Written Olivier Assayas  Starring Juliette Binoche; Charles Berling; Jeremie Renier; Isabelle Sadoyan; Edith Scob; Dominique Reymond; Valerie Bonneton; Kyle Eastwood; Alice de Lencquesaing

An exquisitely executed film from fifty five year old French director Olivier Assayas. Assayas has often been associated with grittier material (Clean; Irma Vep), although there is a historcial drama (Les Destinees sentimentales) in his ouevre as well, and the ex Cahiers du Cinema critic has long been an ardent supporter of Asian filmmakers (Hou Hsiao-hsien; Edward Yang, et al) working in the realm of minimalistic neo-realism. His expressed affinity for these films that are principally about behavior, character, and tone as opposed to plot is in evidence here moreso than in any of his previous work. This is Assayas’ best work to date, an example of an experienced  director (with over twenty films to his name) hitting his proverbial stride. Summer Hours benefits from an exceptional cast, and has the feel of one of the great Eric Rohmer summer films (perhaps the title is no accident?), albeit with an updated sensibility. The mundane seeming subject matter - namely, a well-off trio of siblings gathered at their elderly mother’s rural estate, and later the decisions foisted upon them regarding the disposition of the inherited property (which includes valuable post-impresrionistic artwork and art nouveau furniture), might seem uninvolving on the surface, but Assayas (who also wrote the script) manages to infuse narrative tension as the pedestrian events unfold. One keeps anticipating the shoe dropping in the various spots where movie cliches would normally lay siege, but Assayas refuses to let us off that easy, opting to allow the characters enough elbow space to interact in a potentially less dramatic, but ultimately more human and satisfying way. As a result, there are no villains or heros to be found, merely individuals with a mix of strengths, weaknesses, agendas, perspective, and sometimes conflicting emotions. The leads - Edith Scob as silver-haired seventy five year old matriarch, Helene, the niece of a well-known French artist; Charles Berling as her eldest son, economics professor and author Frederic; Juliette Binoche as designer daughter Adrienne; and (Dardenne Brothers regular) Jeremie Renier as their brother, sneaker company executive Jeremie, are all fantastic. The supporting players, including Isabelle Sadoyan as housekeeper Eloise and Alice de Lencqueraing as teen grandaughter Sylvie, are equally as natural (Clint Eastwood’s son also appears as Adrienne’s boyfriend James). This is a deftly balanced treat that manages to artfully weave any number of provocative subjects and ideas (globalization; family history; the erosion of familial connections as siblings age; technology; the lasting importance of traditional art) in its nuanced meld of images and dialogue.

Public Enemies (USA) (2009) Directed by Michael Mann  Written by Michael Mann; Ronan Bennett; Anne Biderman  Starring Johnny Depp; Marion Cotillard; Christian Bale; Billy Crudup; Jason Clarke; Stephen Dorff; Stephen Graham Leelee Sobieleski; Channing Tatum; Giovanni Ribisi; James Russo; Shawn Hatosy; Emile De Ravin; Lily Taylor; Rory Cochrane; Lili Taylor; Carey Mulligan; Branka Katic

Based on a book by Bryan Burroughs, Public Enemies is a technically superior offering with impressive set design and cinematography from the maniaical one, Michael Mann (Thief; Heat; The Insider; Ali). While the film is cooly composed (shot by longtime Mann collaborator, Italian Dante Spinotti (Heat; Wonder Boys; LA Confidential; The Insider), for many this one may be lacking enough demonstrable humanity to truly connect on a visceral level. Johnny Depp is just fine as John Dillinger, the infamous midwestern bank robber who managed to capture the imagination of the depression era American public. Unfortunately, he is the only character we learn anything about, and even his interior journey is far from fully illuminated. Thusly, the main supporting players: Marion Cotillard (as love interest Billie Frechette); Christian Bale (as FBI agent Melvin Pervis); and Billy Crudup (in a strange piece of casting as a young J Edgar Hoover) are each given a few moments, but not nearly enough for us to feel connected to their individual stories. The rest - Jason Clarke (as partner in crime Red Hamilton); Stephen Graham (terrible American accent as the violent Baby Face Nelson); and Stephen Dorff (as another Dillinger accomplice, Homer Van Meter) are essentially given short shrift, with little opportunity to demonstrate any real development. Further, a parade of recognizeable actors like James Russo; Emilie De Ravin; Giovanni Ribisi; Shawn Hatosy; Channing Tatum; Lily Taylor; Rory Cochrane; and Leelee Sobieski appear and are gone in a blink of an eye, making their inclusion a curiosity at best. There is simply a morass of characters and events thrown at us - something that makes the film (despite the long run time) a bit of a blur, though it should be noted that the action scenes are brilliantly executed and realistic feeling. In fairness too, the events of Dillingers life were rather of a whirlwind nature as he travelled from state to state robbing banks and hiding out; was arrested more than once (and escaped several times); and was involved in mutiple shootouts with police, all in the course of several years. Captured in HD, the film has some marvelous set pieces (many of them in the actual original, real life locations), though the modern shooting style is not a traditional one for an historical epic. While there are a few emotional moments with Frechette and Dillinger (Depp and Cotillard do their best with what they are given), for the most part the visuals, mis en scene, and action sequences take precedence, and all the panache and period/location authenticty simply can’t overcome the paucity of fully realized human characters, who mostly manifest as movie constructs. Credit should be given to Mann for caring enough to go to the lengths he does to recreate historical events, but at the heart of most films are the characters that we either buy as people and care about or don’t. While there is nothing wrong with the performances here, especially those from talented, committed actors like Depp and Cotillard, there is only the writing and director to point to when a film is somehow less than the sum of its meticulously rendered parts.

Che (USA) Directed by Stephen Soderbergh  Written by Peter Buchanan; Benjamin A. Van der Deer  Starring Benecio Del Toro; Demian Bichir; Catalina Sandino Moreno; Franka Potente; Victor Rasuc; Rene Lavan; Edgar Ramirez; Rodrigo Santoro; Yul Vasquez Lou Diamond Phillips; Matt Damon; Julia Ormond

At 271 minutes, Che is divided into two films, but director Steven Soderbergh ’s intent was for them to be seen together. Soderbergh again acts as his own cinematographer (using psuedonym Peter Andrews), further demonstrating why he is among the world’s best visual filmmakers. Che stars Benecio Del Toro as the titular Argentinian Dr. Ernesto Che Guevera, who gives a startlingly realistic, singular performance, one that rivals Sean Penn’s recent turn as Harvey Milk in its understated ease. The films are based on two books by Che - Reminiscences of the Cuban Revolutionary War and A Bolivian Diary (biographer John Henderson served as consultant). The overall pacing is deliberate, and Soderbergh uses a hand-held verite style to great effect, giving us a real sense of immediacy. Part One (the stronger and more cohesive of the two) finds the asthmatic Che in Mexico, and details his introductory meeting with Fidel Castro (Demian Bichir) and their 1956 boat ride to Cuba with a tiny initial rebel force totaling 80. From there, we see Che’s participation in the overthrow of U.S. backed Fulgencio Batista. The training and battle scenes are juxtaposed with artfully done black and white recreated footage of Che’s later visit to the U.N. in New York City in 1964. Part 2 is entirely focused on Che’s resignation from the Cuban government and his time in Bolivia leading the revolution there. Despite the run time, Soderbergh opted for an approach that produced anything but a sweeping biopic - instead, we are given a story that wavers between linear and non-linear modes, leaving out information and assuming an audiences familiarity with the story of Che’s early life (see Motorcycle Diaries). Unfortunately, omitted too is key information about Che’s post-revolution activities in Cuba, including his participation in torture, beatings, and El Paredon, the firing squads that executed countless Cuban citizens. We also skip Che’s time following his resignation and covert departure from Cuba that included failures in the African Congo and Guatemala. Che is brilliantly subtle, and contains wonderfully naturalistic performances, and top-notch cinematography, and while the pace and length is a challenge the viewing is rewarding. Still, responsibility for the portrait (including what is not there) falls on the filmmaker and is a major factor in how the end product will ultimately be judged. After a complicated situation with Blockbuster involving DVD distribution was finally resolved, Che is now available on DVD. Perhaps more people will get a chance to see it than did so at the theaters where the film was never widely released.