Laemmle Theatres

Emmanuel Courcol’s ‘The Marching Band’ Is Like a French Spin on ‘School of Rock’

August 19, 2026 by Lamb Laemmle Leave a Comment

Triumph and tragedy are inextricably intertwined in Emmanuel Courcol’s The Marching Band, from the moment superstar conductor Thibaut Desormeaux (Benjamin Lavernhe) gets a leukemia diagnoses that results in him finding a long-lost brother. As they mend fences and fight the illness, the two also prepare to compete together in a regional marching band contest.

The Marching Band opens at Laemmle’s Town Center 5 and Royal Aug. 28^th, and at the Glendale Sept. 4^th.

You’ve likely heard of School of Rock – consider this movie “Factory of Classical.” Mishaps escalate early in the story for Thibaut, as he doesn’t just have cancer, but his sister can’t donate bone marrow to him, because she’s not his biological sister, and he never knew it. It’s a hell of a way to learn he’s adopted, just as it’s awkward for his long-lost brother Jimmy (Pierre Lotin) to suddenly learn about Thibaut when he suddenly shows up on the doorstep requesting a transfusion.

Jimmy works in a cafeteria, but plays in a marching band made up of local factory workers. He appears to have a genetic affinity for music, and Thibaut sees in him the potential to also become a conductor. When the band’s own conductor has to leave town over a job change, the two newfound brothers work together to get these decidedly ragtag, argumentative local musicians into shape for a regional competition.

The selection they practice is “Bolero” by Maurice Ravel, which Thibaut calls the biggest classical hit of all time, possibly showing some patriotic bias as Ravel was French. Trust us, though, you’ve heard this piece, even if the name doesn’t ring a bell. It’s narratively related, too: “Bolero” was one of Ravel’s last compositions before e contracted a mystery illness that would ultimately kill him. It was also likely inspired by the rhythms of the factory in which Ravel’s father worked, and used to frequently take him as a child. (Thibaut claims this as a fact, but the actual facts are less clear.)

While the preparation and build up towards a big concert makes for a traditional underdog triumphant arc, Courcol is less interested in that aspect than he is the bonding between two very different siblings with similar gifts. Slender, well-dressed Thibaut had every advantage in life, worked hard on his music, ans became a superstar in the classical world. Jimmy, who dons blue jeans and a tracksuit top, had to struggle to stay just above the poverty line, and could only find time for music as a hobby. The circumstances were out of their control, and it’s too late to radically change, especially with leukemia lurking, but if they can find forgiveness and the camaraderie they were never allowed as separated kids, maybe that’s as big a triumph as any competition victory.

As a result, you don’t have to know anything about classical music to appreciate the story. Indeed, many of Jimmy’s bandmates don’t, but “Bolero” is a perfect entry-level tune for singers, musicians, and listeners, even as more knowledgeable audophiles will appreciate its thematic resonance as well.

Courcol’s first film as director was Ceasefire, a period drama about a World War I veteran who abandons his family for Africa, then returns and has to heal the wound he caused. His second, The Big Hit, was a comedy abut a prison theater troupe. With The Marching Band, he might just have hit the crowd-pleasing sweet spot, with both a performing troupe and healing familial bonds in play. The movie’s not above being a tear jerker at times, but a reason to cheer the characters onward is never far behind.

“This film may not surprise, but it’s a sincere and uplifting tale that is in tune with the spirit of underdog crowd-pleasers Brassed Off and The Full Monty.” – Dulcie Pearce, The Sun UK

“A huge hit in its native France, this uplifting, moving and subtly funny affair has been making friends right around the world.” – Leigh Paatsch, Daily Telegraph (Australia)

Cédric Klapisch’s ‘Colors of Time’ Irreverently Approaches Art Appreciation

August 19, 2026 by Lamb Laemmle Leave a Comment

Never entirely serious nor quite an all-out comedy, Cédric Klapisch’s Colors of Time might best be described as “cheeky” in its comparison of our current media moment to that of early 20th-century Paris. Through parallel narratives that play fast and loose with history, it’s all about how art may change, but reactions to it remain universal.

Colors of Time opens Aug. 27^th at Laemmle’s Royal, Glendale, and Town Center 5.

As the film opens, a punk-styled girl with dyed red hair and intricate body art takes selfies in front of large, impressionist paintings in a gallery. Across the room, a film crew is creating “content” by having an influencer strike dance poses in front of another artwork. Alas, the color of her dress doesn’t match the painting, but since the clothes are sponsor-provided, they’ll just have to tweak the color of the masterpiece behind her in post-production. Throughout the gallery, there’s nary a spectator who isn’t utilizing some sort of mobile device in some way. This is how we consume and process art now.

In another time period, a century or so earlier, Adele (Spring Blossom writer-director-star Suzanne Lindon) journeys from the country to Paris, first by horse-drawn cart and then by riverboat, in search of the mother who funds her life but has never shown up in person. Along the way, she’ll find herself amidst a burgeoning art movement, at the birth of impressionism, photography, and even a rumored new invention called the cinematograph.

Connecting the two time periods is Adele’s country house, unopened since 1945 or thereabouts. Today, she has approximately 30 descendants, who must decide whether or not to sell the property to a shopping mall. Four are chosen to be representative of the group; each clad in different primary colors, they seem to have each inherited different aspects of the young Adele’s personality. Content-creator Seb (Abraham Wapler) is her youth, anti-capitalist beekeper Guy (playwright and actor Vincent Macaigne) her idealism, future planner and iconoclast Celine (Julia Piaton) her ambition, and schoolteacher Abdel (Klapisch regular Zinadine Soualem) her grounded self.

As the four distant cousins journey by train back and forth from the plant-covered house, they find letters, photos, and even two mysterious paintings that offer clues to their shared past. Meanwhile, with clever cuts and dissolves, the past comes alive, with Adele standing out in a bright red blouse amid the more muted gentlemen of Paris. Only when she finds her mother, now a high-end prostitute, in an equally red room, does she blend into the background, much as Adele might like to shrink away in embarrassment herself.

In both time periods, attitudes towards art are changing, with young people embracing the new, be it photography or digital editing, as the older generation of critics scoffs. While the past illuminates the future and present, Klapisch suggests that it personal stakes will always motivate the best art in any era. When the timelines briefly merge, in one of cinema’s unlikeliest drug trips, things get really interesting!

Klapisch’s 2002 hit L’Auberge Espagnole brought together a group of international grad students, and in the subsequent two sequels, followed them over the course of ten years. A gulf of much more than a decade separates the two generations in Colors of Time, but their needs and desires are universal, as are their naysayers, who wish those darn kids in their respective generations would take the time to slow down and enjoy real conversation and connection. This is a movie which suggests that art should facilitate that dialogue rather than separate spectators from it, no matter the tech involved. That most of the primary actors are also creators feels like a pointed, relevant choice in that regard.

“Klapisch is brilliant at directing an ensemble piece, in which the relationships between the characters weave the story, but he also takes the opportunity to pay homage to those who lived…before us.” – Roger Salvans, Fotogramas.

“Klapisch demonstrates, in the most aesthetic and sensory way, the necessity of engaging with the past to move forward in the present.” – Paula Hernandez Platero, Cinemania.

Rustin Thompson’s ‘The Last Picture Shows’ Salutes the Movie Theaters That Survive

August 12, 2026 by Lamb Laemmle Leave a Comment

Ten states. 10,825 miles. 123 theaters. All filmed by Rustin Thompson for The Last Picture Shows, a cinematic portrait of the last main-street cinemas still standing in the small towns of the American west.

The Last Picture Shows opens Aug. 21 at Laemmle’s Royal. Q&As with director Rustin Thompson: Fri., Aug. 21 after the 7:20 p.m. show, moderated by film professor and author Ross Melnick; Sat., Aug. 22 after the 7:20 p.m. show, moderated by filmmaker April Wright; and Sun., Aug. 23 after the 3 p.m. show moderated by author John Trafton.

Thompson, who’s a journalist, critic, and radio host in addition to being a filmmaker, is a near one-man show, serving as his own cinematographer and sound man in addition to writing and directing. It feels like a video essay, with a musical rhythm, that’s been punctuated by more conversational interviews with the primary operators of many of the theaters he comes across.

There’s a haunting beauty to a colorful movie theater after dark as the only light source on a small-town street. There’s an even more tragic beauty to one that’s been permanently closed, standing as an echo of a more community-minded past. In the west, they tend to be the tallest thing around, as outstretched, flat plains or snow-capped peaks seem to stretch out forever into the distance. With so few people in Thompson’s frame, the buzzphrase du jour comes to mind: liminal spaces. Everything we see is some form of lost – either lost to a past that still shows enough remnants to stick in the mind, or lost to the backroads of America, unseen by those who have easier access to a mall multiplex or urban IMAX screen.

This year’s cinematic successes, from the classical adaptation of The Odyssey to the youth-skewing horror of Obsession and art-house surprise of Tuner, have proved audiences still want to go to the movies. But it’s been a rough economic road for the places that show them. Mandatory minimum runs enforced by studios can hamstring a theater, once everyone in town who wants to see a particular film has already attended. Then the relatively low profit margins of the situation left businesses with low reserves when COVID lockdowns hit. Those who hang in there do it because they love it, and urge the studios to adjust and ensure that young people still value the cinematic experience.

Thompson’s cinematography is some of the year’s absolute best, imbued with a haunting, ghost-town quality and scored to melancholy country music that suggests a vanishing way of life which is quintessentially American. Yet it’s not all tears for times gone by – most of the folks running these places are stubborn, versatile, and love what they do. Many have reconsidered the space as more than just a place for movies – they also run private parties, stage shows, and the kinds of onscreen theater and one-night only events that programs like Fathom Events make possible.

Many of these regular folks don’t know it, but they’re reflective of the larger entertainment industry as a whole. With fewer guarantees and an end to the star system, many actors and filmmakers take on second jobs these days, just as theater operators are doing. Yet the human connection every aspect of the industry provides matters all the more; the movie makes a strong case that we need these communal movie experiences, even if they’ll never make a person wealthy. There’s just enough film history offered up to give all involved some hope that the business has always been, and continues to be, cyclical.

Laemmle Theatres knows a fair bit about adaptation and the struggle, too. We salute this salute to our siblings-in-exhibition.

“The narratives are compelling, but the movie’s lyrical and elegiac tone makes it truly resonant.” – Glenn Kenny, The New York Times.

“Rustin Thompson’s The Last Picture Shows, then, is at once a cautionary tale and a love letter to an era before it becomes bygone.” – Donald Liebenson, RogerEbert.com.

Mye Hoang’s ’25 Cats From Qatar’ Are the Most Adorable Refugees

August 12, 2026 by Lamb Laemmle Leave a Comment

Cats have always gotten the short end of the stick from the movies relative to dogs, but director Mye Hoang has worked hard to even the odds, with her previous documentary Cat Daddies and her latest, 25 Cats From Qatar, which has the benefit of helping the kitties it showcases, and more.

25 Cats From Qatar opens Aug. 12th at the Town Center 5, Aug. 13th at Laemmle’s Royal, and Aug. 14th at the Glendale. Director Mye Hoang will participate in Q&As at the Glendale following the 4:30 PM shows from August 14 through August 20, as well as after the 1:20 PM and 7:00 PM shows on August 15 and 16.

Producer Alex Megaro will join Hoang on August 15 through August 19 for the 4:30 PM Q&As. Rescuer Katy McHugh will join Hoang on August 14 and August 15 after the 4:30 PM and 7:00 PM shows.

Hoang will participate in a Q&A following the 7:30pm shows on August 12 at the Town Center, and August 13 at the Royal. Cinematographer Patrick Ouziel will join Hoang on August 13. Cat food and supply donations will be accepted Aug. 14-16 by Del Gato Rescue, Urban Panthers, and Kitty Bungalow.

Cats might not take instruction from major studio directors as well as dogs do, but focus a documentary camera on them, and plenty will give the filmmaker a performance, even if hitting their marks is out of the question. In Qatar, where the stray cat population is equal to that of the human population at around three million apiece, many of these felines have become fearless. They pop up from drains, run across busy roads, beg for food and survive the harshness of gum disease and eye injury. Curiosity doesn’t cull the cat population, but it often leaves the fur babies hurting.

Into Qatar comes Milwaukee cat cafe owner Katy McHugh, looking to bring as many of the strays as possible to the U.S. for adoption – 25 is about as much as she can get away with per trip. Numerous rescuers within Qatar are her allies; over the course of four days, they help her select and prepare 25, out of the exponentially more available, that experience has taught Katy will most likely appeal to American adopters.

Qatar’s population is primarily temporary immigrant workers lured by the paychecks, and penchant for construction, of the wealthy. They take on pets – often cute kittens bought at a store – for companionship, but once their tenure is over and they have to leave the country, they often leave the cats behind too. This has helped with the rat problem, but now presents an overpopulation issue that welcomes other countries taking in, essentially, refugee cats.

Animal lovers, have no fear – this is not a movie about cats getting hurt, but rather, rescued. The conflict comes from which cats get to go and how they can make the trip; McHugh, who has done this so often she knows airport ground crew personnel by face, comes prepared, both with knowledge of the process and a charming midwestern manner that endears her to most people she meets. It’s a targeted charm that achieves results – much as a cat purring against your leg is likely to get food or rubs.

Like many advocacy documentaries, 25 Cats From Qatar is something of a call to action, but what it doesn’t outright say might be as powerful as what it does. If we can be brought to care this much about animals in need being brought over for a better life, why do we not more often care about children in similar circumstances as well?

The bottom line, though, is that if you’re coming to see hordes of adorable kitties, it delivers.

“25 Cats from Qatar succeeds not just as an advocacy piece but as a compelling, fast-paced rescue adventure.” – Alan Ng, Film Threat.

“Beyond the cats, 25 Cats From Qatar is a glimpse into the lives of ordinary people in the Middle East, kind people with the same hopes and dreams as everybody else, that feels timely and necessary right now.” – Rob Thomas, Substack.

Kent Jones’ ‘Late Fame’ Asks if Flattery Gets You Anywhere

August 4, 2026 by Lamb Laemmle Leave a Comment

For many viewers, it’s hard to recall a time when Willem Dafoe wasn’t beloved and famous. Yet in Kent Jones’ Late Fame, he’s able to embody the delight of a creative artist being recognized late in life, decades after giving up a poetry career for a practical job at the post office.

Late Fame opens Aug. 14th at Laemmle’s Royal, and then the 21^st at the Glendale, NoHo and Town Center. Director Kent Jones and screenwriter Samy Burch will participate in a Q&A following the 7:30 PM shows on August 14th and 15th at the Royal. Jones will also be a guest on Inside the Arthouse with Greg Laemmle and Raphael Sbarge.

A former film critic, festival programmer and documentarian, the sixty-something Jones knows a bit about late blooming himself. Late Fame is only his second dramatic feature as director, following 2018’s Diane, which scored star Mary Kay Place a Best Actress award from the Los Angeles Film Critics Association and the National Society of Film Critics. His newest, like Stanley Kubrick’s Eyes Wide Shut, is based on a novella by turn-of-the-20^th century Austrian author Arthur Schnitzler.

Jones’ approach, however, is very different – where Kubrick created artificial New York City blocks in London, and put Tom Cruise on a treadmill in front of a rear projection screen, Jones goes street-level in the real thing. There’s a liveliness and sense of space to it, from two-story coffee shops maximizing their vertical space to a surprisingly large single apartment that indicates hidden wealth on the part of its owner.

Dafoe’s Ed Saxberger has mostly accepted his blue-collar status, and is a bit bewildered when a young college student, Edmund Donovan’s dandy-ish Meyers, basically stalks him to his home to shower him with praise. Like Schnitzler himself, Meyers is part of a group of young, aspiring iconoclast writers who believe themselves well-positioned to shake things up. They use only surnames, speak formally, and theoretically eschew technology (to a point).

Gradually, Saxberger begins to enjoy the attention, particularly from showy, uninhibited would-be muse Gloria (Greta Lee). Finally flattered for his intellect, he starts to wonder if his working-class bar buddies are too unsophisticated. But even limited, newfound fame can be ultimately just as empty as the first time around – especially if you’re no longer the same person whose art earned it.

It would be easy to turn the scenario into caricature, with shallow rich kids misunderstanding an old man with real life experience. Jones, however, is more interested in fully developed characters and their nuances than in specific plot beats. These youngsters may be clueless but they genuinely want to be profound as well; Gloria’s performance art at one point is demonstrably so terrible that it stops the movie and the audience in its tracks, yet she can still deliver a meaningful poetry reading while completely high on something, and her life situation turns out to be way more complex than expected.

Ed’s post office career is designed to draw comparisons to author Charles Bukowksi, yet it also demonstrates their biggest point of contrast. Unlike Bukowski, Ed is several years sober, and enjoys his life with a steady government paycheck. He relishes the newfound attention for his work, and is bemused by the idea that he’s been “re-discovered,” but the reality is that a reasonably content, well-adjusted old man just isn’t in the same space as an angry, lovelorn young one breaking the rules of literature.

In real life, someone like Ed could take their cue from director Jones, maintaining an analytical lens throughout his careers that has proved endlessly adaptable, whether to film analysis, documentary, or fictional character study.

“…there’s a satisfying depth to it, and the movie abounds in exquisite grace notes.” – Sheri Linden, The Hollywood Reporter.

“The classic theatricality of its characters juxtaposed with the modern world gives ‘Late Fame’ the feeling of a eulogy for an artistic world that young idealists desperately want to revive.” – Jourdain Searles, RogerEbert.com.

George Cukor’s ‘Let’s Make Love’ Spotlights Jack Cole Choreography

August 4, 2026 by Lamb Laemmle 1 Comment

On Wednesday, Aug. 19th, at 7 p.m., Laemmle Theatres presents a 65th anniversary screening of Let’s Make Love, Marilyn Monroe’s penultimate film, spotlighting the astonishing dance work of choreographer Jack Cole.

Catch Let’s Make Love at the Laemmle Royal, with Cole biographer Debra Levine in attendance to sign her book JAZZED: Jack Cole and Twentieth Century American Dance.

In 1959 Marilyn was entering her final chapter—with her favorite choreographer, Jack Cole, in tow. As Monroe’s decade, the 1950s, wound to a close, the indelible movie star was not in good shape. Repeated breakdowns and hospitalizations had taken their toll. When Let’s Make Love producer Jerry Wald reached out to Cole for what would be his sixth-and-final Monroe movie, Cole was evasive. Eventually, needing money, he acquiesced. Toward the end of a grueling seven-month shoot, with only Cole, Monroe, and scant crew on set, Let’s Make Love had the feel of a home movie. Cole got the star across the finish line. But, he said, “It was very difficult.” Seen in retrospect, the film’s centerpiece production number, to Cole Porter’s “My Heart Belongs to Daddy,” is a danse-macabre, a foreshadowing of tragic events to come.

This summary, contributed by Debra Levine, a friend of Laemmle’s Anniversary Classics Series, is adapted from her brand-new Jack Cole biography, JAZZED: Jack Cole and Twentieth Century American Dance, from University Press of Kentucky (release date August 11, 2026). Debra, who will be our interview guest on August 19, will share revelations from her deep research into the making of this movie through the prism of the close Monroe/Cole relationship, a trove of information that many traditional forays into Marilyn’s final films have overlooked. Debra will be selling and signing her acclaimed book after the screening.

Let’s Make Love was Marilyn’s second last film, made in part to fulfill her contract to 20th Century Fox. Her co-star was iconic French actor Yves Montand, the star of such classic films as The Wages of Fear and the French version of The Crucible. Hollywood often wooed revered European actors, and Montand spent several years making American movies in the 1960s before returning to Europe to make Z, The Confession, Cesar and Rosalie, and Jean de Florette. He and Monroe had a brief affair during the shooting of Let’s Make Love, which he abruptly broke off, aggravating Marilyn’s insecurities.

The script by Norman Krasna and Hal Kanter, with uncredited assist by Arthur Miller, Monroe’s husband at the time, centers on a European billionaire who learns that he is going to be satirized in a new off-Broadway production and decides to investigate by trying to join the production with a false identity. Award-winning director George Cukor (Little Women, Born Yesterday, Adam’s Rib, A Star Is Born, My Fair Lady) was at the helm of the production. Cukor, cinematographer Daniel L. Fapp, art directors Gene Allen and Lyle Wheeler, and costume designer Dorothy Jeakins assured that Monroe was most alluringly photographed.

The supporting cast includes Tony Randall, Frankie Vaughan, and Wilfred Hyde-White, with cameos by Gene Kelly, Bing Crosby, and Milton Berle as experts trying to train the amateur Montand for his theater debut.

As critic Stanley Kauffmann observed, “The scene in which Milton Berle teaches [Montand] how to be a comic is first-rate knockabout fun.”

Culture Vulture Evolves: From Limited Runs to Unlimited Options

July 29, 2026 by Lamb Laemmle Leave a Comment

A mere dozen years ago, your Laemmle Theatres forefathers set out with a new mission, one that would really put the “art” in “arthouse theater.” With our Culture Vulture program, we brought live stage to the cinema auditorium, took attendees inside the world’s greatest art museums to see the classics, and gave PBS documentaries the big-screen treatment they deserved, among other deep delves.

That was then, in a more conventional film environment.

These days, with companies like Fathom Events running one-night-only and limited programs, it’s not uncommon to see plays, concerts, TV finales, restored older films, and all sorts of niche documentaries on every topic.

At Laemmle Theatres, you can still expect to see more from the likes of Exhibition on Screen, telling the stories behind famous works of art, and National Theatre Live bringing the best of British stage productions to the movie screen. They no longer need other umbrellas to stand under, as their productions are now recognized by the likes of IMDB and Rotten Tomatoes. If we ran just one a week, in some cases, we’d be limiting your options rather than expanding your horizons.

Culture Vulture began in 2014, with an all-male production of Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night, starring Mark Rylance and Stephen Fry. It used to run at every Laemmle theater – the Claremont ran it for all 12 years, which is more than any other. Over those eleven-plus calendar cycles, the programs have broken down to: fine art 31%, stage capture 28% (Shakespeare 12% of that), opera 10%, ballet 10%, and music docs 7%.

In all, 24 of Shakespeare’s 38 plays have been a part of the program, some more than once. Hamlet, easily the highest-grossing title in Culture Vulture’s history, came through in three different productions, as did Romeo and Juliet, including in Matthew Bourne’s all-dance version.

Here are some more Culture Vulture numbers: a total series run-time of 11 years and 10 months, from September 22, 2014 to July 27, 2026.

In that time, our screens have run 434 titles, 2,078 engagements, 4,449 theatre-days, 10 theatres, and 90 distributors.

Culture Vulture titles needed strength in numbers, but the future has more than we can count. Just keep an eye on Laemmle.com for keywords like ballet, opera, and stage. If you sign up for Laemmle’s e-newsletter, you’ll be even more ahead of the curve.

Culture Vulture as a label may be phasing out, but like a phoenix from the ashes, it’s just rebirthing to spread its wings wider. Long live culture, on even more screens and locations!

Three Classics Revived: ‘White Nights,’ ‘The Piano,’ and ‘Mysterious Skin.’

July 28, 2026 by Lamb Laemmle Leave a Comment

What do Luchino Visconti’s White Nights, Jane Campion’s The Piano, and Gregg Araki’s Mysterious Skin all have in common? Aside from critical acclaim, not much. Except this: they’re all returning to the big screen in new restorations over the next few weeks.

Catch The Piano starting July 31^st at Laemmle’s Royal, White Nights August 7^th also at the Royal, and Mysterious Skin August 21^st at the NoHo.

Not to be confused with the 1985 American film of the same name, White Nights (1957) marked a transition in Visconti’s style. Previously known as a master of neorealism, he shot the entirety of White Nights on a large set in a Roman soundstage, giving the production a dreamlike quality in line with the Dostoevsky short story it’s based on. Based on the Tuscan city of Livorno, the set used netting to give the street lights a nighttime haze, and included a functional mini-canal, for a key moment in a rowboat.

Italian acting icon Marcello Mastroianni turns on the charm as Mario, a man on a late-night walk who encounters a crying woman, Natalia (German cinema star Maria Schell). Over the next couple of evenings, he attempts to woo her despite her fealty to a man who left a year ago, with a vague promise to return. Visconti originally planned to dub Schell, but she impressed him with her Italian and got to keep her voice.

At the center of The Piano, on the other hand, is a relationship not serendipitous but pre-ordained. From an early age, Ada (Holly Hunter), from Scotland, is promised into an arranged marriage with New Zealand settler Alisdair Stewart (the late, great Sam Neill). By the time she’s old enough to actually wed, she already has a daughter (Anna Paquin), and is either unable or unwilling to speak…except through the emotional music she plays on her piano. When her new spouse fails to put a priority on her signature instrument, she’s drawn to a man who does – George Baines (Harvey Keitel), a Scottish sailor who has gone native with the Maoris.

Hunter and Paquin both won Academy Awards for acting – unable to use words, Hunter’s Ada conveys everything through her eyes, stomps, and slaps. Paquin’s Flora comes off as a realistically mercurial kid, mostly loyal to her mother but capable of ruining everything in a fit of pique. Writer-director Jane Campion scored the film its third Oscar for Best Original Screenplay, and the film’s frank depiction of sexuality from a female gaze pushes the boundaries of what the MPAA typically allows in an R-rated film.

Filmmaker Gregg Araki has always pushed boundaries of sex – and violence — from his breakthrough film The Doom Generation onward. Mysterious Skin is less overtly outrageous, but almost more shocking for it, as it follows two childhood friends, played by Joseph Gordon-Levitt and Brady Corbet, who process childhood sexual abuse in very different ways. Gordon-Levitt’s Neil becomes a hooker in New York City at the height of the AIDS crisis, while Corbet’s Brian, who believes his abuse may have been an alien abduction, increasingly has his repressed memories manifest as physical symptoms.

With a supporting cast that includes Michelle Trachtenberg, Richard Riehle, Elisabeth Shue, Chris Mulkey, and Mary Lynn Rajskub, Mysterious Skin is acclaimed as one of Araki’s finest and most sensitive films, but with its unflinching look at the damage done by child abuse, it isn’t for the faint of heart.

All three of these movies will have regular runs – not just one-off screenings – of at least a week, starting July 31^st with The Piano. If you’ve never seen them before on the big screen, or it’s been a while, come and see them look better than ever. Three very different films, by three great directors…and there’ll be more where that came from.