The cover of Entertainment Weekly for May 30 displays yet another headline about The Matrix Reloaded: "4 Ways Its Blockbuster Debut Will Change the Way We Watch Movies." Of course, turning to page 9, I find the real subject is not how we watch movies; but, rather, how, or in this case, when, we go to movies: "Essentially, [we've] reprogrammed the public… to believe they must see a movie on opening weekend," says Fox Searchlight distribution president Steve Gilula. Nice choice of words, Steve.

Wondering about the how or why of movie-watching is of course beyond the purvey of fluffy industry shills like EW and I'm sure Mr. Gilula couldn't care less; I mean, we might have to ponder those Twin Towers of American unmentionables: emotions and… and… POLITICS! "Entertainment," by consumer capitalism's definition, precludes both.

Looking for emotional satisfaction or provocative ideas? For the former, you'd be much better off seeing Disney's Holes where you get some anti-authority kicks, girl- and kid-power, interracial romance, and some deliciously devilish performances from Sigourney Weaver and, in an especially funny turn, Jon Voigt.

For intellectual stimulation the best bet right now is Neil LaBute's The Shape of Things. I've found LaBute's movies satisfying for their surface cynicism about romance; but, I've found them interesting and provocative for their materialism: In a sense, all his movies are about "the shape of things." We would all like to believe that our search for completion in another human being is unique to ourselves; LaBute's fundamental insight is that the whole romantic narrative is pre-determined from the outset: fuck the content, forget the character of the individual; so long as we cover the basic plot points we're all happy to go along for the ride. The contrived situations and slightly stilted acting style of LaBute's movies are formalist devices intended to highlight the deterministic nature of what we'd like to, more comfortably, consider as spontaneous and organic.

The Shape of Things is perhaps the feminine revenge for LaBute's brutally masculine In the Company of Men, where two men play out a cruel romantic joke on a deaf woman. We eventually come to realize that the joke was also played on the audience as well as the other lead male character.

Andrew O'Hehir's "review" of The Shape of Things is sometimes descriptive, often dismissive, frequently clueless (he calls the movie "earnest;" has he seen The Hours?), always glib. He accuses LaBute of being "a square Mormon dude from Wherever, USA, who's working too hard at being cool all the time." Sigh. And this from the guy who delivers the most seriously over-the-top, self-deluded review of The Matrix: Reloaded. (O'Hehir really needs to read Stuart Klawans dead-on critque of TM:R, titled, appropriately: "Medium Cool.") A future we can fight for? I'd say there's much more of a future to fight for within The Son's shattering, costly compassion than there is in the techno-religious bullshit in Reloaded, not to mention an economical, both emotionally and technically, method of filmmaking to be emulated not ridiculed. Which is to say, I guess: The Matrix Reloaded is a very American movie and The Son is more French. But then, in the same review, he calls David Cronenburg a "chilly intellectual, born and raised" (whatever that means) as well as arch Peter Greenaway.