I enjoyed Rain not so much for its creativity, “freshness,” or daring (of which you may find plenty), but simply because it took me—in a convincing and non-distracting fashion—into a different and interesting world. Better, Govan opts for subtlety in many of the plot details (such as the backstory behind Coach Adams’ rift with her own father, or putting the story in the proper sub-tourist context) rather than a sledgehammer. The information you’re after, in just about every case, is there if you care to pay attention, but Govan isn’t going to lead you by your nose. If Hustle & Flow, as just one example, left you feeling like you’d been conned a little bit—like the “hard life” didn’t seem as hard as it should have—here’s the slice of life you might be looking for… sans the hype.

Thematically, the subject is survivor’s guilt. Both Marie and Maurice really can’t get over the fact that one boy had to die—in much the same way the whole town can’t get over the fact that most of the male populace won’t be coming home from some unspecified war. The moral seems to be: if you can’t find a way to reconcile yourself with your past, and insist on reclaiming it, it’s like living with the dead… and it will kill you. What’s done is done, and trying to answer the question “Why?” is most often futile. Stylistically, The Shadow Within is unlike just about anything else out there that you’re likely to see.

For the most part, the script makes all the right moves, and the direction strikes the proper tone in emulation of The Princess Bride. The visuals are also appealing. But The Princess Bride also succeeded because it was refreshingly original—and because it was directed by Rob Reiner. Instead, clever as it is, Jack and Beanstalk often feels like a retread. Ten minutes in, I was thinking Jack might be turn out to be a minor low-budget classic—and my wife and I enjoyed it well enough. But the film simply doesn’t sustain that level of ingenuity. As Jack and Jillian, however, Colin Ford and Chloe Moretz turn in very solid performances. (The latter will soon be a household name, I expect.)

Who owns an animal? Is a dog the same thing as a chair, an automobile, or a cigarette lighter? Is the human side of the relationship more akin to that of a guardian? Or a friend? One thing is certain: Pezanoski’s subjects all feel a special, inviolable bond with their dogs. And they all feel, to a degree, that their rights have been violated. If you’ve ever owned a pet you really might want to consider watching this dogs-and-their-masters documentary. Given that the film follows several dogs (and their corresponding people) displaced in the wake of Hurricane Katrina, you might also want to turn flinchingly away.

Raise your hands. How many of you grew up reading Hardy Boys, Nancy Drew, Encyclopedia Brown, or Happy Hollister mysteries? Personally, I can remember spending many an engrossing summer afternoon with such simple-minded but entertaining kid lit… though, even at the time, I felt slightly embarrassed reading them. That feeling of adventurous innocence—coupled with a B-grade, TV-movie Mummy aesthetic—is captured perfectly in Walmart’s second foray into feature filmmaking. Yes, the legacy of the cliff-hanger tradition has us aping Raiders more than Tarzan these day—and Secrets is no Raiders. But if you’re okay with it not trying to be, you will probably enjoy it just fine.

Filmmaker/adventurer Pavol Barabas is no Bear Grylls, who essentially manufactures danger for the sake of the home-viewing audience. There is also no sense, as with Survivor Man, that rescue is still really only a hearty shout or two away. No, Barabas and his co-adventurers are truly “out there” on their own, putting themselves in extraordinary danger—while at the same time exercising pains-taking caution because they know they’re flying without a net. If you’re looking for polished, urbane, pristine nature flicks, though… uh, these aren’t them. But if you’ve got a taste for gritty, unvarnished, off-the-beaten track real-life adventure… oh, man. Score.

What many viewers may miss is the chance the movie provides for a glimpse into our own not-too-distant cultural past. In cultures that place far less value on leisure that ours does today, children have always represented a blessing styled as “a quiver full of arrows” by the Old Testament—but not because they are merely so many little bundles of joy. For most of human history, that blessing has been very utilitarian in nature: a means to a family’s livelihood, hands to work the fields. And history is rife with examples of parents who have simply run away because they find themselves unable to cope with the pressures of feeding them.

This is a much better-looking film than the original. The skating sequences—particularly the heroine’s finals-qualifying routine to Stravinksy’s “Firebird Suite”—are exquisitely moving and beautifully choreographed, and the loving photography of the winter Iowa countryside is stunning. Unfortunately, the story invests so much energy in this authenticity that Lexi’s character never really comes alive as a person—and the central conflict is established so late in the proceedings that the film’s rising action becomes rushed and perfunctory. I’m afraid that the skating ultimately trumps the characters and the story.

As much as the project wants to be hip and edgy, I just found it annoying—mostly due to the visual style, which melds a low-def video source with rough-hewn quasi-animation to produce compact video that imitates, after a fashion, comic-book art. I found myself making choices that would just conclude things quickly—and succeeded wonderfully, my own ending coming after a scant 35 minutes. Whew! I was really fearing I’d end up in the four-hour version. Those who are searching out something new for newness sake might be interested in this release; but claims that the film will change the way we think of interactive video are overstated.

As Jesus said, what is harder to believe: that a crippled man may rise and walk, or that his sins may be forgiven? Yes, writer/director Krusen invents a narrative that takes liberties with the “true story”; but as this Special Edition DVD release demonstrates, the story also packages a greater truth in a fashion which, in some respects, downplays the horror of the actual facts. And Wolfaardt’s real-life story—which is more global and less local in scope—is no less powerful for playing out in a less cinematically-digestible fashion. Sadly, the legacy of Final Solution is not entirely well-served by this 2-disc Special Edition—but you can always take your original disc and swap it out for Disc 1!