Star Trek (2009): I've never considered myself a Trekkie; my primary scifi loyalty has always been to Doctor Who, and I found it difficult to get worked up about The Next Generation or any of its limitless spinoffs ("Mr. Kim, your hair is out of place!!!"). I enjoyed the original series and most of its movies, although for various reasons I tend to subconsciously elide the first part of the second's title, considering it solely as The Wrath of Khan. Even with my reservations, I've never had anything against Star Trek, and was very excited to see the new version from J.J. Abrams and Damon Lindelof (the latter two responsible for the interminable Lost, so I certainly had reason to be wary). The new Star Trek, I have to say, is a brilliant, well-acted, near-literal re-invention of the franchise that I hope leads to a new series. A Federation starship encounters a mysterious, ferociously-armed vessel; in the ensuing battle, the starship is destroyed, commanded by George Kirk, who's nevertheless ensured the escape of his wife and newborn son, James. Two decades later, Jim Kirk (Chris Pine) becomes a small-town Iowa layabout getting in fights with Starfleet cadets until he enlists himself after being set straight by the formidable Captain Pike (Bruce Greenwood). His fellow students, portentously enough, include Dr. Leonard McCoy (Karl Urban), Uhura (Zoe Saldana) and Spock. The last-named's childhood conflicts with fellow Vulcans, as in the original "mythos", help to complicate his own feelings concerning his half-human ancestry. Describing the plot would be a bit of a spoiler in itself, so I'll confine myself to saying that the one weak link is the rather lackluster Romulan villain Nero, played by Eric Bana; something tells me that if he'd been given a "fake chest and cheesy quotes from Moby Dick", as my college chum Mike put it fifteen years ago in relation to the still-greatest of Star Trek movies, things probably would have gone better. Fortunately, it doesn't matter, as the film's most important task is to introduce us to this new perspective on the Star Trek world, and as such succeeds brilliantly. The issues the plot raises are handled with an admirably (and, given the Lost connection, surprisingly) deft touch by Abrams, especially as each sci-fi universe has their own unique (and often tortuous) way of managing them. In many ways, the film's excellence comes down to the cast, who I thought would be good, but who outdid my expectations. Pine, who looked like he could have been a simpering teen-film nonentity, is great as Kirk, paying homage to the swinging-dick machismo of his illustrious predecessor but adding a little Kurt Russell-ish swagger of his own (and getting repeatedly slapped down for it in a number of ways). His chemistry with Quinto as Spock is very convincing, which bodes well for the new franchise's further prospects. Quinto is the young Spock, a little more waspish and impulsive, but fitting a believably callow personality within Vulcan culture. Urban's McCoy comes closest to being a cartoon, but then, so did the original in some ways, and he does a fantastic job with the accent and mannerisms. Scotty (Simon Pegg), Sulu (John Cho), and Chekhov (Anton Yelchin) all sign on for the ride, all familiar, yet all believably their own characters (already partial to Pegg after Shaun of the Dead, I was an even bigger fan after the wonderful Big Train). The best surprise is Uhura, who Zoe Saldana invests with a depth and personality that Nichelle Nichols never quite did (was never allowed to?) in the original storylines. The cast's ability results in a collaborative, ensemble feel that echoes the idealistic aims of the original series and stands out among modern-day blockbusters. A word, too, about the filmmakers' light touch with in-jokes. This film could have been a painful blizzard of self-reference, but all the knowing winks to the fans never last longer or leave a deeper imprint than necessary (my personal favorites being Kirk's response to the Kobayashi Maru test and the fate of the hapless red-shirted Engineer Olson). The lame villain and at least one why-bother celebrity cameo aside (although another surprisingly works brilliantly, as does--less surprisingly--the widely publicized casting of Leonard Nimoy), I can't get over how well done it was. Seeing at Quality 16, reminiscent of the theaters of my youth (with a sound system now probably equivalent to the TV at my house), in the midst of an appreciative matinee audience, was probably the ideal venue and helped to sweeten the deal no end. May there be many more of these new Star Treks.

I Am Curious: Yellow (1967): Vilgot Sjoman's classic art-house hit about a young woman's political and sexual tribulations in social-democratic Sweden had a charactersitically sumptuous release on Criterion a few years back. I'm not sure how I first heard of it, but it's fantastic. Lena (Lena Nyman) is an actress playing a girl named Lena Nyman in contemporary Sweden (the refractive nature of the filmmaking process and drama itself much more ably managed than, say, the bloated American overkill of Synecdoche, New York), getting involved in demonstrations, interviewing random people on the street, and sleeping with her boyfriend Borje (Borje Ahlstedt). The action is a mix of graphic realism and understated surrealism, as the characters interact with people playing the Swedish royal family, Swedish politicians such as Olof Palme, and real-life interviews with notables such as Martin Luther King, Jr. and Yevgeny Yevtushenko. In the process, the audience and characters learn a great deal about themselves and about Swedish society, especially the continuing tenacity of a class system in an allegedly social-democratic state. I wasn't sure how I was going to react to this one, but I loved it, mainly due to Nyman's performance. Not only does she have to find herself in a sea of conflicting images and ideas that threaten to stifle her own voice, but she also has to deal with the jealousy of the director (Sjoman himself) on account of her (on- and off-screen) boyfriend, and the boyfriend's jealousy of her own indomitable spirit (as well as a number of "daddy issues"). Nyman's adorable, but never in an overly "cute" way--she presents a whole host of different states and responses to the various crises in her life (at times, she reminded me of a somewhat more "officially" highbrow version of Vanessa Howard in 1970's Mumsy, Nanny, Sonny and Girly). The film's startlingly relevant to the present day, especially with Nyman's insecurity regarding her own body image. I Am Curious: Yellow was banned in a number of countries, including the U.S., for its graphic nudity and suggestive moments, entertainingly and thought-provokingly chronicled in the extras, which include interviews with the director and others involved in bringing the film to the U.S., as well as trial transcripts from the resulting 1968 obscenity hearings (including expert witnesses such as Norman Mailer and Stanley Kauffmann). A superb riposte to some of the more famous--and arid--classics of Scandinavian cinema (especially Bergman's), it's a marvelous portrait of an interesting time and a tour de force performance from an excellent actress.