Most weeks, I review more DVDs than the Indy can fit into print. You can look for extra write-ups here, on the IndyBlog.

I can’t even remember what Meryl Streep looks like anymore. She is truly the Lon Chaney of our generation, disappearing so deep into a character you forget that an actress exists beneath the make-up and fake teeth. Every award, every accolade, she fully deserves, and with this Margaret Thatcher biopic, she reaches her zenith, delivering a breathtaking performance so realistic you forget you’re watching a movie and feel like you’re viewing a documentary instead. Many have decried The Iron Lady as a hit-piece of sorts on Thatcher, but I feel that writer Abi Morgan and director Phyllida Lloyd actually did quite the opposite, depicting her as a strong-willed, take-no-prisoners leader that shattered the glass ceiling while maintaining a stiff upper lip; a strong, powerful woman who not only took on the boys’ club, but the world. If this movie was any truthful indication, I’d vote for her for U.S. president tomorrow. She could really get shit done.

Best known for their hits “Psalm 69” and “Jesus Built My Hot-Rod”, Ministry is widely regarded as one of the most influential industrial rock bands of all time. Not by me, per se, but by the likes of Trent Reznor and Skinny Puppy. The comedically unsettling tour documentary Fix followed the erstwhile group on their recent tour, capturing what seems to be a well-oiled machine that eventually devolves into a mess. Lead singer Al Jorgensen, who has intense drug habits — he’s shown shooting up on film a few times — throws paranoiac fits that leave the band standing around, placating him just so the show can continue. A cavalcade of alternative superstars, from the aforementioned Reznor and Lemmy to Dave Navarro and Casey Chaos show up, all needlessly pontificating when all we really want to do is watch Jorgensen self-destruct even further. Fix is relentlessly watchable and devastatingly bleak, but also darkly humorous in its self-effacing look at a now-washed-up band.

Most weeks, I review more DVDs than the Indy can fit into print. You can look for extra write-ups here, on the IndyBlog.

Look, I am all for big, brash ’80s teen movies about solving life’s problems through dancing. But being a total dude, I like a little more masculinity to the filmed proceedings. You know … movies like Footloose, where totally macho men strip off their shirts and do barnyard gymnastics to anti-authoritarian tunes by Bonnie Tyler and Shalimar. I could relate to it, because in 1984, I was living it. But, sadly, with Girls Just Want to Have Fun, try as I might, I just couldn’t relate to Sarah Jessica Parker's plight of trying out for some sort of after-school Solid Gold rip-off and falling for her hunky dance-partner, gyrating to third-rate covers of a beloved Cyndi Lauper hit. Maybe you’re a woman with a different experience in the matter, to which point I concede to you that Girls is a real fun nostalgic trip. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to teach a rhythmless hick how to dance.

L. Frank Baum’s beloved fairy tale is updated and given a rousingly twisty-turny origin in The Witches of Oz. It has the look and feel of a big-budget movie from low-budget mockbuster mavens the Asylum, and no wonder: It’s directed by Asylum wunderkind Leigh Scott, whose previous contributions include Transmorphers and King of the Lost World. He makes a noble bid here, offering up true originality to the classic stories everyone knows; even at a patience-testing 164 minutes, he continues to pump your soul with a constant flow of imaginative eye candy. The main problem with Oz lies in the casting; you have seasoned pros like Lance Henriksen and Christopher Lloyd, but they are relegated to subtle side-roles as a cast of overacting first-timers who smile broadly and scream every line take the movie over, especially the abysmally fake Paulie Rojas as Dorothy, infecting the screen with such a fraudulent, drama-club saccharine bravado that it threatens to sink the entire movie. There’s no place like acting class, there’s no place like acting class.

Some movies just make you feel like a total pervy-creep. And I’m not even talking about full-on hardcore. I’m talking about movies that take you inside a world of voyeuristic darkness, where secret lusts are diligently explored in an intelligently disturbing manner that makes you feel bad about humanity and the depths of our depravity. One such film is the Julia Leigh/Jane Campion joint Sleeping Beauty, starring Emily Browning, the little girl from Lemony Snicket, all grown up but still looking like a little girl, which makes me feel even filthier. She plays Lucy, a broke, unhappy, sexually brash young woman who takes a job with a creepy Eyes Wide Shut-style bordello. She's paid to be rendered unconscious, then given to male clients for their elderly sex-needs. This being a Julia Leigh movie, I’m sure there’s supposed to be some sort of feminist undercurrent to the whole thing, but I can’t find it. And I’m too confused and bothered to look again.

From the listings desk: Saturday's Fiesta and car event in Acacia Park has been cancelled due to the forecast of crummy weather. No make-up date has been named. Per the press release:

El Cinco de Mayo Inc. regretfully announces that the Fiesta and Car Show scheduled for Saturday, May 12, 2012 has been cancelled due to weather. Current weather forecasts predict 60% chance of rain with a high of 53 degrees. "We have hosted an outdoor event in poor weather before and attendance was very low. We understand people don't want to be outside when the weather is not good. We will look to host it again next year," said Carmen Abeyta, El Cinco de Mayo Inc. Co-Chair.

Catch the new & improved Indy Minute with Jack Ward weekly at csindy.com.

Filmed at the Bear Creek archery range, this week's Indy Minute highlights the first-ever Spartan Military Sprint, coming this weekend to Fort Carson . Also, on Friday, dual exhibition Rubrittica vs. Ceralusia opens at the Modbo and S.P.Q.R., plus the Wombats play the Black Sheep. On Sunday, you can stop by Acacia Park to join the SlutWalk/SlutFest Colorado Springs in support of healthy sexuality without the threat of violence, denigration or marginalization.

Our thanks to fellow Spartan racer Jason Coker for his archery demonstration at the Bear Creek Park archery range. And to all you brave souls about to embrace your destiny on the Spartan course ... AROO!

The Pikes Peak Earth Month finale is presented by VEDA Salon and Spa, as a fashion show called "Faces of the World." The event takes place this Saturday, April 28, at the Plaza of the Rockies and - Bonus! - includes the Greenie Awards presentation.

Other featured Indy Minute events to note: the 15th annual Fur Ball presented by the Humane Society of the Pikes Peak Region and the Greater Colorado Springs Chamber of Commerce and EDC luncheon with artist-visionary Umberto "Bert" Crenca from Providence, R.I., Crenca will discuss "Artists & Entrepreneurs: Creating Community and Jobs" at the Antlers Hilton on Monday, April 30.

Most weeks, I review more DVDs than the Indy can fit into print. You can look for extra write-ups here, on the IndyBlog.

From the Chilean action duo of Marko Zaror and Ernesto Diaz Espinoza, the filmmakers behind one of my favorite action flicks of past five years, Mirageman, comes their latest project, the balls-to-the-wall old-school hitman flick Mandrill. After witnessing his parents brutally murdered, Antonio spends his life transforming himself into a slick and suave bounty hunter code-named Mandrill. Mixing his considerable cool with a heavy-metal martial arts swagger, Zaror delivers some of the best action sequences this side of the Thai border. Meanwhile, director Espinoza infuses a real iconic chill to the whole thing, eschewing the typical MTV shaky-cam quick-cuts in favor of a laid-back, ’70s-esque, anti-hero Steve McQueen-like romantic vibe that is just as breathtaking to watch as the action sequences. When I reviewed Mirageman, I said that Zaror and Espinoza were the future of action cinema. With Mandrill, they prove it.

Takeshi Kitano could easily be called the Japanese Clint Eastwood— an iconic legend of total badassery that continues to write, star and direct in violent paeans to his own on-screen cool. But, while Eastwood tends to go for the self-effacing sputtered-out ending, Kitano goes for the kill ’em all and let god sort ’em out finale. His latest masterpiece is the Yakuza crime drama Outrage, an outrageous, involved, nervous-tick of a movie that ranks right up there with Scorsese’s best. He’s an old, hardened Yakuza go-to guy, witnessing the numerous double-crosses and double-dealing by the current family heads and the big boss. Torn between loyalty and ambition, it’s a constant struggle to maintain trust and respect in a criminal underground that is increasingly forgetting its time-honored traditions and very reason for being. Kitano forlornly moves in the background, silently, calculatingly sad, doing whatever he has to to get the job done. Outrage is a modern-day crime-cinema classic, filled with images that should be on the walls of every college dorm room.

Remember that Jeremy Piven piece of crap from the late ’90s called Very Bad Things? It was that supposed black-comedy about a group of wholly unlikable d-bags who accidentally kill a stripper at their bachelor party and have to try to fix it, with numerous hijinks ensuing. Remember that now? Well, Piven is back on familiar ground, only this time it’s less Hangover and more hanging yourself with your belt in the bathroom. In I Melt With You, Piven teams with Thomas Jane, Rob Lowe and Christian McKay for a week of drinkin’ and snortin’, only, thanks to that ever-present middle-class ennui, serious depression sets in and the boys remember a suicide pact they made in college. Yeah, things get pretty intense, but also pretty unbelievably stupid — you want to put your hands through the screen and shake some sense into these morons, letting them know that not everyone’s life turns out the way they’d expect. It's a trainwreck that is uncomfortable to watch, with no redeeming value, entertainment or otherwise.

Most weeks, I review more DVDs than the Indy can fit into print. You can look for extra write-ups here, on the IndyBlog.

Cameron Crowe is back after the disastrous Elizabethtown with the very charming, likable and sweet-natured family film We Bought a Zoo, starring Matt Damon and Scarlett Johansson. Damon is a successful but workaholic adventure journalist who, after the death of his wife, decides to make a change for his sunshiny daughter and gloomy son. Does he take them to Disneyland? No, he quits his job and buys a damn zoo, filled with quirky animals and even quirkier staffers. For the most part, We Bought a Zoo is wonderfully innocuous kids' fare, with a great message about animal preservation and all that jazz, but, like Elizabethtown, Crowe descends too many times into sitcom territory, introducing cartoonish characters that don’t seem to jive with the drama of the movie. It’s weird to watch, but hey, there are plenty of animals and plenty of hugs, and my copy came with a free ticket to a local zoo.

The third entry in the epic (not really) live-action (sort-of) Alvin and the Chipmunks franchise finds the titular CGI rodents, along with their feminine counterparts, the Chipettes, castaways on an island paradise filled with poisonous spiders, gold doubloons and a wacky girl who’s been stuck on the island so long she’s mastered the art of being most annoying human being on the planet. Meanwhile, the Chipmunks’ “father” Dave (Jason Lee, for whom I’m sure we all envisioned better things) and alternative-comedy sellout extraordinaire David Cross (in a plush duck suit) search for the gang and the meaning of responsibility, growing up and familial love. I may be hard on this movie, and little kids will absolutely chortle themselves to pieces over it, but if you’re over the age of, let’s say, 10, Alvin and the Chipmunks: Chipwrecked is not for you.

A group of college friends that have become smug, self-centered dicks are reunited at the funeral of their millionaire daredevil friend in this “urban” dramedy from director Corey Grant and starring the eternally young (and forever crushable) Stacey Dash. The dead pal leaves the group a sizable sum of money in his complicated will, all under the condition that the friends come together stay in his house for a week. Old wounds open up, old flames flare back up and shockingly scandalous secrets threaten to tear the group apart. Featuring the acting debut of Terrell Owens, whom Wikipedia tells me is a football player of some sort, Dysfunctional Friends is a fully functional Big Chill-style flick that's wonderfully heavy on the dysfunctional, and thankfully light on the friendship.