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Superior in almost every way to its unfortunate predecessor ("Capote"), the plot of "Infamous" covers the period during which Truman Capote broke away from his comfortable Park Avenue social circle to write about the gruesome murder of a family in rural Kansas. Although some of the film is based on actual events, another portion - the extent of which is impossible to determine - is based on a "fictional re-imagining" of the same facts (just as Capote's novel, "In Cold Blood", was a blend of journalism and psychological techniques that had been used in novels).

Although the director's approach begins by using the comical aspects afforded by the unexpected intrusion of a flamboyantly gay writer (Capote) into the social fabric of small Midwestern town, the tone of the film soon turns serious. Accompanied by his cousin, Harper Lee (Sandra Bullock), who had just finished writing "To Kill A Mockingbird", and Truman (Toby Jones) begins knocking persistently on the doors of people who have barely imagined life outside of Kansas, but who have also just received a horrific lesson from another moral universe.

Aided by a fortuitous comment on product diversity at the cheese cooler of the local grocery store (a slight variation on the previous film's version), Truman and Nell insert themselves into the town's social circle. As they do, they harvest from the towns folk a richness of emotional reactions and moral meanings that totally escaped the director of "Capote".

But it is when Capote meets the killers that "Infamous" really begins to distance itself from the competition. William Hickok describes his partner, Perry Smith, as seeming like a "faggot" because he offered some comfort to the men of the murdered family before killing them. But Truman's further discussions with Hickok unearth more clues to the makeup of the complex man that Capote became emotionally involved with during the course of this unsettling project. His dilemma: how close could he, as a writer selling a commercial literary project, come to Perry Smith without compromising himself totally as a moral human being? The agony of this problem becomes much more vivid in this retelling than in the cold power struggle depicted in last year's film: Capote and Smith, although initially separated by mistrust and ambition, become nearly mirror images here, separated only by circumstance from vastly different fates.

British actor Toby Jones works miracles - although aided by his small stature and blond coloring, his vocal technique and mannerisms much more closely evoke the "real" Truman Capote. More importantly, his portrayal of the character makes emotional sense of the moral corner in which the subject found himself - how as an author to render the humanity of a character he had fallen in love with without reaching the end of that character's life - execution - and how the fame that rendering brought also conflicted with his feelings for Perry Smith.

The opening scene begins like a Sunday picnic/Turkey shoot: well-dressed couples in period costumes milling around, young boys plunking away with their new rifles. It takes a minute or so to realize that this is stand-off with a man sealed inside a log cabin. A few racial epithets later and we realize the man is (a) black and (b) possibly innocent of the crime he is accused of.

Director Edwin Scherin lucked into a fine script co-authored by Elmore Leonard, one of the pioneers among popular writers to take up the subject of racism in best-selling detective and action novels. He uses Burt Lancaster, the title character, judiciously at first, having him enter inconspicuously and a little awkwardly, like a man who knows he is out of place. But soon Lancaster assumes control of the deadlocked situation, and but for the interference of a trigger-happy shooter (Richard Jordan), almost manages to end it peacefully.

This scene sets off the plot events that follow, as Valdez tries to obtain money to compensate the man's Native American widow. Most of the action - except for the bizarre humiliation of Valdez at the hands of a wealthy gun-runner - follows standard formulas, but Lancaster underplays his role so well that the clichés turn to his and the movie's advantage. Add solid supporting roles by John Cypher, Susan Clark, and an offbeat ending, and you have a surprisingly engaging Western that delivers what we expect and then some.

This is the first romance movie I have ever seen that requires a time line, so I will begin with The Idiot's Guide To The Lake House, a story of two people with a slight scheduling problem.

Cast of characters:

Alex Wyley, an architect who runs crews on a condo project

Kate, a doctor who has just finished her residency

Dad Wyley, the self-centered tyrant who designed and built the lake house Henry, Alex's brother, who takes a lot of crap from Dad, too

Morgan, Kate's would-be white knight, were it not for the fact that he Places His Career First

A Crudely Reconstructed Time Line

1. Spring 2004 Alex moves into the lake house.

2. Spring 2006 Kate moves out of the lake house to take a position in a Chicago hospital.

3. (2004//6) Alex and Kate are able to correspond across time threads and discover themselves to be soul mates who share a dog in trans-time. They also share a mysterious mail box which serves as a time portal, also providing quicker-than-real-time delivery, reading, and response service through the little red flag.

4. Kate, while discussing matters of the heart with her mom over lunch, has to rush to the aid of a man stricken in a traffic accident.

5.Alex, totally smitten, goes to Kate's birthday party and plants a steamy slow dance kiss on her unsuspecting mouth.

6. Kate, in a state of what we might call "rational thought", decides to call the whole trans-time thing off and demands that Alex cease corresponding. She returns to her old boyfriend, Morgan, who was never totally convinced that Kate and Alex had been discussing real estate at her party. But she looks great, even with short hair.

7. Dad dies. Nobody seems to mind. Now Alex can put down the hard hat and take up his true calling, architecture.

8.Alex goes to Morgan with the lake house key and tells him to give it to Kate (my bad: perhaps he was too upset to worry about fine details such as a lease, which might have contained his or his family's name).

(arrow back to the blank space before item #2)

9. (2004: discarded instance) Kate moves into the lake house, but now she is somehow unaware of Alex's existence - no, wait. We don't see this part, but presumably the dog does, and maybe she does tech support for the script writers, too.

(Arrow back to the blank space after item #3)

10. (2006: really) Kate, putting several realizations together, perhaps more slowly than the average doctor might have, is now aware that the dying man in the traffic accident was Alex, who she had told where she was on Valentine's Day of this year.

11. You think I'm giving this away? You must not have been wearing a hard hat!

12. The End (see item #10 for foreshadowing).

As you might have surmised, this film, while poetic and romantic in spirit, is grimly literal-minded in its method, and the combination doesn't wear all that well. A bit more mystery or a touch of indirection and vagueness might have better conveyed the magical mood the story needed. The actors knock themselves out, even Reeves, who has often seemed to care less what day it was or even what movie he was in - here he seems passionately focused, if awkward at times.

And the director, despite his earnest determination to show how many calendar days apart the characters are in almost every scene, shows at times that he really does understand the mystery of romantic passion. The Jane Austen references toward waiting for the right person, the walking architectural tour given by Alex, and that sweet slow dance, all show the precious blend of spiritual and physical connection that can weld two beings together in a moment. If only we had been given more of this...(and I hated The Notebook, too, dude!)

(For the record, this appears to be the first English language film by Argentine director Alejandro Agresti. I'm inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt and check out his earlier films, such as Un Mundo Menos Peor, as well as his coming projects).

Dang, that Russell Crowe sure can take a licking and keep on ticking. I would have liked Cinderella Man a whole lot more if I hadn't already seen it at least a half dozen times, most recently in a Turner Classic screening of "Somebody Up There Likes Me", with Paul Newman and Pier Angeli in the Crowe-Zellweger roles. "Somebody" inspired the Rocky series in the 70s after which karate had to be given its due, and most recently we saw Clint Eastwood's melancholy take on the gentle art.

None of this is meant to take anything away from the acting or direction of this well-crafted but well-traveled story, which adds a new dimension by setting the action during the Depression. The character of James Braddock is given the burnished treatment of a mythical boxing hero: a ferocious animal in the ring, but a good-natured, loving man outside. Crowe renders this trope with his typically understated grace and intelligence, and the script gives him a lot to work with - as a former contender making a comeback during the 1930s, he has history on his side when tells a reporter the reason he fights is "for milk" for his family.

Renee Zellweger seems so comfortable in the role of supportive mate that it required a look at her resume for me to realize that she has not played a similar part since she cut her teeth on the part of long-suffering Dorothy in Jerry Maguire. I look forward to seeing how she plays Janis in "Piece Of My Heart", which started production this year, according to IMDb.com.

Although critics have raved about Paul Giamatti, who plays Braddock's manager, for the last 2 years, I haven't taken the bait. He may have been nominated for an Oscar for "Sideways", but that film would have been nothing without his three strong supporting actors. Although he tries, it's hard for us to picture the pasty, cerebral actor as a fight manager - even when he talks the talk, he almost sounds like he's explaining his approach to the role in front of Jim Lipton and an audience of hungry thespians. Placing Giamatti next to the legendary Angelo Dundee outside the ring might have sounded good, but it backfires.

Apparently Max ("Jethro") Baer, Jr., has taken Ron Howard to task for the movie's rendition of his father, the formidable heavyweight champion. Although Baer, Sr. did play a part in ending the lives of two of his opponents - one expired in the ring after a devastating blow to the head - the champ was said to have been tormented by guilt afterward. Even Jim Braddock, the model for Crowe's character, said that Baer was a genuinely good fellow who merely played the part of a villain to promote the sport of boxing. Apparently Howard found that to be an indispensable part for his movie, which graphically compares the horrors of the ring to the horrors of "Hoovervilles" in the 30s - as Braddock says in an argument with a leftist friend, "you can't fight shadows," i.e., poverty and greed. Max Baer, whatever else he might have been, was definitely not a shadow, and the prospect of facing his lethal right hand causes Braddock some visible hesitation even after a string of upset victories.

On one level, the movie is a commentary on human nature similar to "Seabiscuit": in difficult times we need heroes, two legged, four legged, or wherever we can get them. The title comes from a sportswriter's column referring to Braddock's return from obscurity and destitution.

On another level, it is the story of one man's redemption. Jim Braddock may have had a gift that most men admire exactly because they lack it, but he too was faced with the breadline and might have lost his family and even his life except for a freakish bit of luck. Ron Howard and his lead actor never let us forget how close even a man of Braddock's apparently outstanding character and ability came to falling. It's a testament to this movie's quality that it conveys this theme so consistently while avoiding overstatement.

Blockbuster idea: get a hot TV actress from a hit comedy series and show her bumping into the same trees she dents her forehead with on small screen - have her fly to London for her baby sister's wedding with a hired escort (see, they won't know he's hired, but the audience will, get it?) just to let her family and her ex-fiancé know that she's still kicking. We'll have lots of lewd, drunken behavior amid previously never-seen British castlescapes, won't that be exotic? Sort of, "Four Weddings and a Funeral" meets "Pretty WomanGuy".

I don't know if "Clare Kilner" is a publicist from one of the dozens of corporations who reimbursed the producer for product placements, or just another pseudonym for White House correspondent James Guckert. Whoever he/she is, any flicker of wit or originality has been steamrolled out of this flick before it has even had a chance to sprout. This is a film in which the eating of an anchovy appetizer symbolizes the comittment required for true love.

Debra Messing, the aforementioned hot TV actress, may find herself encouraged to remain on small screen, where she seems attractive and comically gifted. Dermot Mulroney, who plays the escort (another echo of White House correspondents now departed), seems to have been carved from a Ken Doll tree - worse yet, he has a bromide for every single crisis.

The only actor with a spark of life is Sarah Parish, a tall, sexy brunette, who plays the requisite horny female relative. In accordance with the brain-dead logic of "Wedding Date", she has almost nothing to do.