A+E

Last week, in San Francisco, I caught a pirate screening of footage from Ron Howard's The Da Vinci Code. It wasn't a trailer—it was a genuine underground copy of extended footage from a potential blockbuster not due in the theaters for months. What I saw didn't bode well: the complete lack of chemistry between leads Tom Hanks and Juliette Binoche; Jean Reno's inert performance; and, worst of all, Howard's competent but schematic direction. You know: the establishing shot of the great vista of the Louvre to overwhelm you ... cut to a closeup of Hanks for a "moment of epiphany." We found it unintentionally hilarious and emblematic of overripe Hollywood drama. Give me Bachelor Party any time.

It's pointless to complain about the Oscars, which are about politics and catering to mainstream tastes. It's best to focus on the positive, the little acknowledgements of worthy films. Terrence Malick's brilliant and moving The New World got only one nomination, for cinematography, but no film this year had more beautiful images. The taut screenplay for A History of Violence, the witty script for The Squid and the Whale and Woody Allen's intelligent writing for Match Point all received deserved recognition. And the surprise acting nomination for Terrence Howard, for Hustle & Flow, almost makes you forget that another Howard film, the execrable Crash, got six unearned nominations.

The Bleachers

Suspicion (4 stars)

Since debuting with a promising eponymous EP in 2002, The Bleachers have augmented their lineup with a drummer, moved from a makeshift kitchen studio into full-time recording space and—judging by this first full-length effort—honed their songwriting skills considerably. Sounding at times like long-lost UK post-punkers ("Roller Rink"), acoustically nimble folk-rockers ("Don't Make No Roads") and foreboding next-generation post-rockers ("The King Is Always the King"), the trio has crafted a disc that compares favorably with anything on the indie scene today, local or otherwise.

Tim Burton's Corpse Bride (PG) (4 stars)


$28.98

In the delightfully twisted mind of Tim Burton, the afterlife is a place where madcap corpses cakewalk through a Technicolor eternity while the Earth-bound live under conditions Scrooge might have considered harsh. Here, the screen's reigning fantasist imagines a scenario in which a Victorian bachelor is forced to chose between two brides, one very much alive and the other quite dead. Although the title suggests a creep show, only parents of very impressionable children need fear screening Burton's romance for the entire family. They'll also want to share the bonus material, which explains how Burton, co-director Mike Johnson and composer Danny Elfman created such a magical work.

Hill Street Blues: Season 1 (NR) (4 stars)


$39.98

Before the launch of Hill Street Blues in 1981, all that was required of the producers of dramas set in police stations, hospitals, law firms, legislatures, high schools, you name it, was a million-dollar star and a filing cabinet loaded with interchangeable scripts. Steven Bochco changed TV by enlisting an ensemble cast of unfamiliar actors, tilting the halos traditionally worn by TV cops, peppering the dialogue with street slang, lacing together unrelated storylines and shooting with hand-held cameras. Even though first-season audiences stayed away, the series won a record 21 Emmys. To its great credit, NBC gave Bochco another half-season to find an audience, which, of course, it did. The bonus material is nothing to write home about, however.

The Ultimate Lesbian Short Film Festival (NR) (3 stars)


$24.95

If all mainstream America knew about lesbians was what it gleaned from The L Word, this collection would come as a shock ... especially to those expecting lots of hot babes getting it on in Santa Monica bungalows. Not to dismiss the appeal of anyone in Festival, but such soap-opera conceits likely weren't foremost in the minds of the women who made them. Instead, their contributions represent the diversity of the lesbian community by telling stories that don't require characters to strip off designer duds every 20 minutes.