A report from the front lines - The 49th San Francisco International Film Festival

Factotum
Matt Dillon stars as Henry Chinaski, a stand-in for Charles Bukowski, who wrote the book upon which Factotum is based. Basically a series of seriocomic episodes, the film focuses on Henry, who drifts through life and several jobs. He walks off in the middle of a few tasks -- from delivering ice to polishing statues -- only to be found later hunched over a bar. He sticks for a while with one girlfriend, Jan (Lili Taylor), who seems to like him better when he's unemployed. Norwegian director Bent Hamer (Kitchen Stories) gives Factotum a kind of dingy warmth, where time and boredom stretch out into infinity, but in a reassuring kind of way. Dillon narrates, chomping on the rich dialogue with a Bukowskian drawl.

Half Nelson
Ryan Gosling, who normally works with a kind of self-satisfied smirk on his mug, steps up several notches with a beautifully concrete performance made of guts and soul. He plays a white teacher in an inner-city school. Drugs are prevalent; each kid probably knows or is related to someone who deals, and even the teacher himself uses. One student, 13-year-old Drey (Shareeka Epps), discovers his secret and they become unlikely friends. You wait for the Lolita stuff to kick in, but it never does; Half Nelson is a rare movie about relationships without gimmicks. Epps and Gosling perform several scenes together, many in long takes, and while he is superb, she matches his every move. Director Ryan Fleck makes his feature debut.

Perhaps Love
An underrated director of high romantic swells and deep emotional eddys, Hong Kong director Peter Chan has so far graced us with Comrades, Almost a Love Story (1996) and his American debut The Love Letter (1999), but Perhaps Love -- his first feature in 6 years -- feels a bit too eager to please. Like a whirlwind All That Jazz, the musical Perhaps Love tells the story of a director (Jacky Cheung -- who sings several numbers with an incredible set of pipes), an actor (Takeshi Kaneshiro) and an actress (Zhou Xun) who have known each other for years, have always worked together and who pull at each other's heartstrings. Chan flashes back to the story's beginning while flashing forward to the film in production as well as the film's finished scenes. It's all a bit much, like being whacked in the face by a pinwheel. Chan grasps hold of several heartfelt moments, but the film is as exhausting as it is moving.

A Prairie Home Companion
Though it has many unforgettable moments, Robert Altman's new ensemble piece clocks in as his most ungainly work since Prêt-à-Porter (1994). Written by and starring radio veteran Garrison Keillor, the film depicts the last show in a long running radio series (Big business has bought and is shutting down the old theater). Old-timey musicians perform various numbers while weird little dramas unfold backstage. In the movie's most misguided component, Kevin Kline plays private eye Guy Noir (usually portrayed on the air by Keillor) as a bumbling, slapstick security guard. Even stranger, Virginia Madsen shows up playing a ghost (angel?) dressed all in white, waiting to claim someone who is about to die. Fortunately, clearer moments abound, like Meryl Streep and Lily Tomlin as an aging sister act and a delightful Lindsay Lohan as Streep's cynical daughter (she writes poetry about suicide). Woody Harrelson and John C. Reilly provide some levity as a comic singing cowboy act. Altman's dreamy pacing perfectly captures the radio show's comforting, Sunday afternoon nostalgia, but there are too many ill fitting square pegs and round holes.

Three Times
Considered by many critics to be one of the world's greatest living filmmakers, Hou Hsiao-hsien is nevertheless a hard sell; his films are very slow and almost never arrive at any kind of conclusion. But the masterful new Three Times may be a good place to start. Set over three different time periods, 1966, 1911 and 2005, the film stars the gorgeous Shu Qi (The Transporter) and Chang Chen (Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon), who play different lovers in each segment. In the first, Chang is a soldier about to go off to war when he meets a girl in a pool hall; this may be Hou's clearest and most emotionally touching work. The second segment -- filmed as a silent movie with intertitles -- takes place during the Japanese occupation of Taiwan. Chang is a reporter and Shu is a courtesan who longs to spend more time with her errant man. In the present day, Shu plays a singer with a myriad of physical problems. She slowly begins to ignore her jealous female lover in favor of Chang, a photographer. In each segment, the radically differing social conditions conspire to keep our lovers apart. Hou seems to think that communication was simplest in 1966, while characters are stifled in 1911 and guarded in 2005, but viewers can draw their own conclusions.