Luminous Visions of Andre Szirtes at LACE

Two films by Andre Szirtes, Hungary’s leading experimental film maker, screen tonight at 8 p.m. at LACE as a presentation of FilmForum.

“Metamorphosis of an Unidentified Flying Object” (1987) has been aptly described as “an avant-garde travelogue with a nod to ‘The Man Who Fell to Earth.’ ” It’s safe to say there’s never been a tour of New York quite like this one. For much of the 51-minute film, Szirtes employs a filter device that turns skyscrapers into looming Stonehenge-like obelisks and causes light to streak.

Through his distorting lens, Manhattan takes on an otherworldly, iridescent beauty, which is in keeping with the film’s sound-track reverie, spoken by a heavily accented Hungarian woman who refers constantly to a “he” who is undergoing a kind of transcendent experience. By the time the film is over, we realize that the narrator is referring to Szirtes himself, who feels like a bemused alien from outer space in Manhattan.

In between the spectral effects, Szirtes captures such familiar people as Bowery bums, pretty girls and a promenade of Hasidic Jews and such typical subjects as New York bridges and a deserted, derelict Coney Island. As we see the Hasidim passing by, the narrator speaks of “his” belief in the need to make visible the world hidden by the real world. In a sense, that is what this this magical film accomplishes.

The 21-minute, black-and-white “Dawn” (1973-78) ostensibly evokes that span of time between dawn and the beginning of the work day. The glimpses of a city, presumably Budapest, coming awake give way to a purely abstract appreciation of all that the eye can see, especially in the amazing flux of patterns in a puddle of water. By some kind of microscopic device, Szirtes allows us to see drops of water in immense close-up, at which point the screen seems showered with cascades of raindrops that resemble silver Christmas balls. By the time Szirtes has finished his shimmering experiments in filming water--which are accompanied by humming, thrumming sounds suggestive of a city coming awake--the sun is up. Like “Metamorphosis,” “Dawn” is a joyful, exhilarating experience. Information: (213) 276-7452 or (714) 923-2441.

Also on an upbeat note is “The Fleischer Studio,” an irresistible 90-minute compilation of shorts produced by Max Fleischer and directed by his brother Dave, which screens Friday at 1 p.m.--perfect for children on Christmas vacation--and again at 8 p.m. at the County Museum of Art’s Bing Theater as part of the “Enchanted Drawings: The Hollywood Animated Film” retrospective. The Fleischers were Walt Disney’s only serious rival in the ‘30s, and their work has a wonderfully jaunty, even racy quality and an economy and simplicity that make it timeless. (They are also remarkably free of the extreme violence that makes later cartoons such a turn-off for some viewers.)

Among the Fleischers’ famous characters are Betty Boop, a sexy innocent reminiscent of Clara Bow, and Popeye. Several of the cartoons are built around popular songs. Cab Calloway performs his immortal “Minnie the Moocher” (1932) and the Mills Brothers’ sing “I Ain’t Got Nobody,” which invites the audience to sing along, following a bouncing ball. The same invitation is extended for “A Hot Time in the Old Town Tonight.” Perhaps the most inspired and amusing of the 14 cartoons is “A Dream Walking” (1934), in which Olive Oyl sleepwalks (as we hear an instrumental version of the title tune on the sound track), ending up walking the girders of a skyscraper under construction as Popeye desperately tries to catch up with her while not waking her up. In a different style from the earlier pen-and-ink, black-and-white cartoons are the delightful Pop Art-ish Superman adventures that Max Fleischer produced for Paramount in the early ‘40s. In color, they resemble comic books brought to life as Superman captures a rampaging King Kong-like ape during a circus (in “Terror on the Midway”) and foils a flying robot, a seemingly indestructible jewel thief (in “Mechanical Monsters”). Information: (213) 857-6010.