Movie Reviews: Couples Retreat, The Damned United, Good Hair

GOOD HAIR Don Imus’s hateful, racist 2007 remarks about “nappy-headed hos” underscored the immense fear of and fascination with the hair follicles of African-American women. Chris Rock, the host, co-writer, and co-producer of first-time director Jeff Stilson’s Good Hair, never mentions Imus’ outburst; his interest in the political, social and sexual entanglements of the tonsorial stem from the more personal — specifically, when one of his two young daughters plaintively asked, “Daddy, how come I don’t have good hair?” Rock, affable as ever, queries a few black actresses (Nia Long providing the most candid responses: “Weave sex is a little awkward”); visits beauty salons; oversees an experiment by a scientist, who demonstrates the corrosive effects of sodium hydroxide, the main ingredient in hair relaxer; travels to Chennai, India, where women sacrifice hair that ends up in weaves costing thousands of dollars in the U.S.; and stares in disbelief at the Paris Is Burning–like competition at the annual Bronner Bros.–sponsored “Hair Battle” in Atlanta. Rock is certainly a sympathetic and curious observer, though including Ice-T’s remark that “a real pimp can tell what a woman looks like baldheaded” betrays some of the gender politics that remain vigorously unexamined in this breezy, superficial doc. (Citywide) (Melissa Anderson)

THE HORSE BOY There’s a moment in the documentary The Horse Boy when the father of its subject, an autistic child named Rowan, explains his son’s intrinsic understanding of nature by showing how he has organized his animal toys by species. The dad marvels that Rowan has grouped biologically close rhinos and pigs in the same box — while ignoring the ostrich figurine that’s also in there. This selective filtering of information is typical of the film, a quest toward an inevitable inspirational destination, continuing the recent trend of using precious theater space as dumping grounds for a-cinematic PBS also-rans. Mom and Dad take 6-year-old Rowan, whose jagged tantrums are best relaxed by contact with horses, on a riding tour of Outer Mongolia, to consult tribal shamans in the hope of untangling his mental blocks. It’s fun to imagine how The Horse Boy’s intended audience, the nontraditional-therapy crowd, would react to the same film if the parents took Rowan to exorcists in papal Rome — just imagine a priest bringing up “haunted wombs”! — but the Third World Otherness does wonders. The Horse Boy may excuse itself as a “raising awareness” tract on autism, but the exotic travelogue isn’t a practicable care option for most cases, and it certainly isn’t worthy cinema. (Nuart) (Nick Pinkerton)

GO  MR. RIGHT For Londoner Louise (Georgia Zaris), the man of her dreams (Jeremy Edwards) turns gay when she least expects it, which may actually be Louise’s fault — all her friends are gay men, and as the makers of this well-crafted romantic comedy slyly suggest, gay may indeed be contagious. Co-directed by the sister-and-brother team of Jacqui and David Morris (he wrote the script and plays a small role), Mr. Right smoothly tracks the romantic lives of Louise’s friends, which include her BFF, Alex (Luke de Woolfson), whose relationship with a TV producer (James Lance) is derailed by a hunky hustler (Benjamin Hart), who in turn has grown weary of his own sugar daddy (Morris). There’s also a single-parent art dealer (Rocky Marshall) who’s afraid to introduce his new boyfriend (Leon Ockenden) into his daughter’s life. If that sounds like a lot of characters to keep up with, it is, for a while, but one gradually sorts out who goes with whom. When nearly all the couples break up at a midfilm dinner party, the Morrises and their likable, grounded cast manage to steer clear of silliness and shrill melodrama. In a refreshingly adult manner, love eventually finds its way back to almost everyone, though poor Louise might do well to just throw up her hands and go lesbian. (Sunset 5) (Chuck Wilson)

GO  PARANORMAL ACTIVITY For Katie (Katie Featherston), a San Diego college student, things have been going bump in the night since she was 8 years old and a ghost attached itself to her. The unseen being that has been benignly haunting her for years thrills Katie’s loving but skeptical boyfriend, Micah (Micah Sloat), who sets up a video camera to capture any supernatural goings-on. For his debut feature, reportedly shot in seven days at a cost of 15 grand, writer-director Oren Peli works wonders with stationary camera footage of the sleeping couple: The bedroom door moves, slightly; lights in the hallway go on and off; a shadow passes the bed. As the nights pass, the presence, seemingly annoyed at being recorded, begins upping the ante, and soon it appears that poor Katie is on the verge of channeling her inner Linda Blair. Grounded by strong performances by newcomers Featherston and Sloat, who pretty much have the movie to themselves, Paranormal Activity, which demands to be seen in a crowded theater, is refreshingly blood-free — the fact that its old-school scares caused seemingly jaded 20-somethings at a recent midnight screening to squirm in their seats suggests that there’s hope for the world after all. (ArcLight Hollywood) (Chuck Wilson)