Big girls, little guys, lots of fun.
Gay porn star Michael Brandon goes from meth addict to anti-drug crusader--and back.
Andrew and Freddy Velez are the first brothers to die in America's War on Terror.
Llewellyn Werner thinks a few half-pipes could get Baghdad's economy rolling.
The World's Fastest Indian (Magnolia)
Roger Donaldson's movie about Burt Munro, the man who converted an ancient motorcycle into a record-shattering speed machine, was a real crowd-pleaser. My mom, who has no interest in bikes of any kind, was a teary-eyed, wide-grinnin' sucker for the thing, no doubt thanks to Anthony Hopkins' portrayal of Munro as a cheerful crank with the need for speed. Doubtful she'd fall in love with the man seen in Donaldson's outta-print-till-now doc about Munro, 1971's Offerings to the God of Speed; he's more angular and cantankerous than Hopkins' version, no less affable but a touch more tangible, which only makes sense. The doc's a real find; having Munro hovering over the director's fictional retelling provides a rare opportunity to see how very alive the dead can be. -- Robert Wilonsky
Neil Young: Heart of Gold (Paramount)
Bonuses are almost superfluous for a film like this; the original piece is so special that to surround it with extras only distracts attention from the reason we're here, which is to see Neil Young and band performing Prairie Wind in its entirety, followed by an abbreviated best-of set list. What could have been a drag (static camera, static performer) is an utter delight. The main attraction on the second disc should have been the making-of doc, tracking the band's rehearsals through opening night a week later; it's fly-on-the-wall stuff, except that director Jonathan Demme talks over the damned thing and drowns out Young's instructions, not to mention the rough-take performances. Also here: Young on Johnny Cash's 1971 TV show and other space fillers you'll never get to, since the concert on disc one is forever Young. -- Wilonsky
Dave Chappelle's Block Party (Universal)
Dave Chappelle crammed a full celebrity life cycle into two years, going from unknown to superstar to freaked-out failure in less time than it takes to make a movie. Which explains why this concert film, put together in Brooklyn while Chappelle was perhaps the hippest man in America, is such a great party: It captures the comedian at his momentary peak. But don't come expecting Chappelle's sharp-tongued rantings; he has the good sense to stand back and let the musicians take the spotlight. From Kanye West to Erykah Badu, Chappelle crowds the stage with the type of nonthreatening black artists that make white people say, "I don't usually like rap, but..." The DVD's extended performances are great, and the making-of doc is fine -- but who wants to watch the making of a party? -- Jordan Harper