The corrupted innocent

Heather Graham’s character Hope in the indie drama “Broken” is an aspiring (but you knew that from her name) Midwestern singer-songwriter who decamps to L.A. and summarily enters into a destructive, dope-fueled relationship with Jeremy Sisto’s controlling jerk. (His name? What else -- Will.)

But it’s pity for Graham, an actress with a casually complicated mixture of beauty and sadness, that overwhelms feelings for Hope, whose victimhood is presented purely as abstraction. That’s because “Broken” is a pretentiously time-fragmented, tedious slog -- it starts with those names -- in which Hope is a waitress in a diner that over one late night becomes a prophetic limbo: The various customers (a just-signed singer, a prostitute, a substance-destroyed bag lady) clunkily represent life’s options for our beleaguered heroine.

At one time, screenwriter Drew Pillsbury’s Big Idea may have sounded like the freshest of takes on the corrupted innocent story, but nearly everything a movie needs to ground a character and engage a moviegoer seems to have been forsaken on the way from conception to execution. Not only that, director Alan White crams in “if you didn’t get it by now” elements, like a flash montage in which Graham actually appears as Hope’s future incarnations, and the introduction of a film producer character who pushes Hope to do an obviously shady film called “Broken.” (Too late for Graham to say no, unfortunately.)

By the time Hope reaches a climactic emotional showdown with the dangerously delusional Will, the sheer weight of the movie’s missed opportunities for human drama becomes its own weird reliever of the boredom that precedes it.

-- Robert Abele

“Broken.” MPAA: R for drug use, strong sexuality, violence and pervasive language. Running time: 1 hour, 37 minutes. At Laemmle’s Sunset 5, 8000 Sunset Blvd. (323) 848-3500.

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Sketchy direction and a bland plot

A sincere, slow-paced drama about a Florida family dealing with schizophrenia, “Canvas” is never terribly convincing, despite being inspired by writer-director Joseph Greco’s life growing up with a mentally ill mother.

Unlike the far superior “Away From Her,” which also concerned the domestic consequences of a woman’s brain disorder (in that case, Alzheimer’s disease), “Canvas” isn’t probing, unique or poignant enough to sustain interest. It’s a bland memory piece whose saving grace is Greco’s good fortune to nab pros such as Marcia Gay Harden and Joe Pantoliano to play the schizophrenic Mary Marino and her devoted husband, John. However, as the couple’s sensitive son, Chris, Devon Gearhart works hard but could have used more precise direction.

When Mary’s condition worsens and she ends up hospitalized, John and Chris must fend for themselves, each disappearing into creative pursuits, occasionally coming together to share their pain. Though the crux of the film, these father-son moments can feel a bit forced. Conversely, scenes of a disturbed Mary embarrassing Chris around his classmates, while tough to watch, at least have some honest tension. “Canvas” (named for Mary’s remedial painting) just doesn’t sketch a sufficiently vivid portrait.

-- Gary Goldstein

“Canvas.” MPAA rating: R for drug use, strong sexuality, violence and pervasive language. Running time: 1 hour, 40 minutes. In selected theaters.

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Trippy jaunt worth the ride, at times

Movies like “Weirdsville,” a wintry after-hours romp about two hapless stoners and a botched heist, are like hitched rides: The company is either dubiously entertaining enough to make the trip worthwhile, or you wish you could jump out.

In this case, Wes Bentley and Scott Speedman are amusingly engaged-then-disengaged pawns whose lamentable treatment of a friend (Taryn Manning) they think has overdosed may raise eyebrows, while their status as targets for execution by a preppy Satanic cult whose sacrificial ritual they unwittingly interrupt gives them a loopy sympathy. (Greg Bryk as the cult leader is especially funny, offering the devil-worshiping complement to a born-again’s dilemma: how best to interpret his master’s teachings?)

Youth-conscious director Allan Moyle (“Empire Records”) has said he sees the film -- written by Willem Wennekers -- as a Canadian “Trainspotting,” which means replacing that film’s jubilant coarseness with something wrier and at times surreal. The problem is that the wacky treatment of desperate druggies isn’t new, and sending your film in unpredictable directions can become its own kind of burdensome predictability.

But “Weirdsville,” with flashes of wit and style, at least isn’t a chore to sit through. In other words, you won’t feel like the only non-user in a well-lit bunch.

-- R.A.

“Weirdsville.” MPAA rating: R for drug use, strong sexuality, violence and pervasive language. Running time: 1 hour, 30 minutes. In selected theaters.

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‘Trigger’ happy and drama hungry

With a setup that calls to mind “Deliverance” and “Old Joy,” “Trigger Man” opens with three friends, urban hipoisie all, getting together for a weekend hunting trip to celebrate the impending marriage of one of their own. None of them seems to be particularly adept as outdoorsmen; they seem to simply like the way toting a gun around the woods goes with their beer-drinking, tattoo-wearing self-image. Once a certain underlying tension among the trio has been established, it’s no spoiler to say things start to go very wrong in a hurry, and they are soon plunged into a nightmare scenario beyond their imagining.

Written and directed by Ti West and executive produced by longtime indie-horror stalwart Larry Fessenden, “Trigger Man” far too quickly leaves behind its human drama in favor of pure adrenalized terror, sending its characters on the run in a dense forest. The suspense the film does elicit is rather remarkable, in that West often does create something out of nothing, leaving the what, why and how of unfolding events largely unexplained. A guy crouched by a tree can be scarier than you think. Any emotional or psychological undercurrents, however, are offhandedly swept aside, making the film, even at a brisk 80 minutes, seem rather hollow.

-- Mark Olsen

“Trigger Man.” Unrated. Running time: 1 hour, 20 minutes. At Laemmle’s Grande, 345 S. Figueroa St., downtown L.A. (213) 617-0268.

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Harper’s Meir a driving force

So remarkable a woman was Israeli prime minister Golda Meir that Valerie Harper found in portraying Meir a challenge to her resources that would take her to new creative heights. Harper becomes Meir -- and all the other people in this film of the acclaimed one-woman play, adapted to the screen by its writer, William Gibson.

It is a splendid adaptation, with director Jeremy Paul Kagan creating a stunning, stylized background panorama, incorporating archival footage and photos, to evoke Meir’s incredibly dynamic life that took her from a Kiev ghetto to a Milwaukee childhood to Palestine in 1921, where she would play an increasingly major role in the birth and survival of Israel.

As in his memorable 1981 film of Chaim Potok’s “The Chosen,” Kagan makes the Jewish experience deeply universal and richly resonant. The film is framed in the critical days of the 1973 Yom Kippur war, in which Meir wonders whether her dream of making a new world will crash in a nuclear holocaust.

Harper’s Meir is a plain, direct woman of immense strength and courage, capable of acknowledging that placing Israel before family exacted its price. Harper and “Golda’s Balcony” generate tremendous influence and timeless meaning.

-- Kevin Thomas

“Golda’s Balcony.” Unrated, mature themes. Running time: 1 hour, 35 minutes. Exclusively at the Music Hall, 9036 Wilshire Blvd., Beverly Hills, (310) 274-6869; Fallbrook 7, 6731 Fallbrook Ave., West Hills, (818) 340-8710; and South Coast Village, 1561 Sunflower Ave., Costa Mesa, (714) 557-5701.

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‘Boys’ bare it all for laughs

The title “Naked Boys Singing! The Movie” certainly represents truth in advertising. Luckily, this efficiently filmed version of the popular, homegrown musical revue (it premiered at Hollywood’s Celebration Theatre in 1998) has more on its mind than just showing cute guys in the buff. Like the play, it remains a spirited diversion featuring a talented and game ensemble of actors. And yes, the men are birthday-suited throughout, a novelty that wears off in, uh, short order.

Shot in front of a live audience, the film features 16 original, gay-themed songs, composed by an array of writers, in a variety of styles. From amusing ditties about high school gym class (“Fight the Urge”) and nude modeling (“Nothin’ But the Radio On”) to stirring ballads of losing love (“Kris Look What You’ve Missed”) and finding it (“Window to Window”), the numbers are all nicely choreographed by Troy Christian (who co-directed with Robert Schrock) and enjoyably performed. “The Naked Maid,” “The Bliss of the Bris” and “Perky Little Porn Star” are especially fun turns.

Despite its bawdy bent, this is a sweet and good-natured piece that should satisfy its intended audience.

-- G.G.

“Naked Boys Singing! The Movie.” Unrated. Running time: 1 hour, 22 minutes. At Regent Showcase, 614 N. La Brea Ave., L.A. (323) 934-2944.