Director Brad Anderson, who delivered credible budget thrills with Session 9 and The Machinist, takes the “Masters of Horror” franchise for a spin with Sounds Like, an effectively creepy tale of swallowed grief’s slow transmutation into insanity.

Chris Bauer (The Wire, The Devil’s Advocate) stars as Larry Pearce, a family man and call center supervisor for whom careful listening is a way of life. His days are spent monitoring hundreds of tech support phone conversations, his ultra-sensitive ears attuned to every nuance of voice and sound. When he loses his young son, however, Larry is shattered. Slowly, his sense of hearing becomes even further intensified, to the point of teeth-grinding distraction; even simple noises are magnified into a cacophony of torment. As Larry’s grasp on reality begins to loosen, he grows even more surly and resentful of his wife Brenda (Laura Margolis), who’s been dealing with their son’s death differently. Eventually the deafening clamor is all too much, and Larry slides headlong into shocking acts of violence.

Obviously the big narrative touchstones here are Edgar Allan Poe’s The Tell-Tale Heart and Gene Hackman’s The Conversation, and Anderson summons comparisons to these works favorably from a point of actual execution as well. His skill with sound design — roundly evidenced in particularly Session 9, but also on his episodic work on HBO’s The Wire — comes into play, and makes Larry’s dizzying predicament searingly real. There’s also a smart sense of when to parcel out the moments of shock or air-quote gore (squirmy maggots get some nice play), and when to merely let Bauer sell the distracted, slow-rising distress of this character. Sounds Like isn’t nearly as gory as many other entries in the “Masters of Horror” series, but it works very well within the established parameters of the anthology, and even on its own, if one isn’t familiar with the other hour-long movies. If the ending doesn’t pack a huge twist or reversal, it’s still well acted, well constructed and persuasively moody, auguring a successful return to theatrical feature films when/if Anderson gets the opportunity.

Housed in a regular Amray case in turn stored in a cardboard slipcover, Sounds Like is presented in 1.78:1 anamorphic widescreen, with superlative Dolby digital 5.1 surround sound and 2.0 surround sound audio tracks. Anderson submits to an audio commentary track in which he amply demonstrates his thoughtfulness and preparedness. He has all sorts of anecdotes about the movie’s purposefully ambiguous production design, composer Anton Sanko’s chamber quartet, non-contemporary score and the mad-dash, one week location scouting that preceded the film’s Vancouver shoot.

Thirteen minutes of cast and crew interviews are wisely preceded by a spoiler warning advising those who haven’t yet watched the movie to turn back, and it’s here that series producer Mick Garris shrewdly assays Sounds Like as the story of “what happens when repressed sadness becomes madness,” and one of the best in the “Masters of Horror” series. There’s also a five-and-a-half-minute featurette on the sound effects work in the movie; here, effects supervisor Howard Berger has some interesting insights and cinematographer Attila Szalay offers up some important new advice he learned firsthand on the production: “Backlight maggots!” Rounding things out are a photo gallery and a DVD-ROM copy of the movie’s screenplay. A- (Movie) B+ (Disc)

She’s now shedding the robes of diva-dom, though it may be
too late to resuscitate her career as a mainstream, dependably bankable leading
lady. Still, all those who doubt the acting chops of Jennifer Lopez should check out not
only Bob Rafelson’s Blood and Wine
and Steven Soderbergh’s Out of Sight
as rebutting evidence for the defense, but also her groundbreaking, lead role
debut, 1997’s Selena, in which the
erstwhile arm candy of Ben Affleck and Puff Daddy vividly brings singer Selena
Quintanilla Pérez to life.

My Family, the forthcoming Bordertown), the film is at its core essentially
a melodramatic tribute biopic, but it’s also a legitimately stirring showcase for the young
Lopez, who was 27 when she made the movie. It centers on Tejano superstar
Selena, who at 23 was about to become a crossover sensation on the strength of
tender, mid-tempo ballads like “I Could Fall in Love” and “Dreaming of You.” Her
dreams were tragically cut short, however, when she was gunned down by a crazed
fan. While a good bit of the film is powered by an amiably whitewashed idealism
and optimism born of familial script approval, it’s Nava’s skill and Lopez’s mesmerizing
presence, however, that make Selena
worthwhile.

Academy Award nominee Edward James Olmos stars as Selena’s
father, Abraham Quintanilla, Jr., a dreamer who, along with his wife Marcela
(Constance Marie), nurtures his daughter as the vessel for his family’s
ambitions (but in not quite as scary a fashion as Joe Jackson), all against enormous
odds. Jon Seda stars as Chris Perez, a rebellious guitarist who joins the
family’s South Texas band and is captivated by Selena, in
time becoming her husband. Rounding out the cast are Jacob Vargas as Selena’s
brother, Abie, and Jackie Guerra as her sister Suzette; Lupe Ontiveros (As Good as It Gets), meanwhile, plays
the role of Yolanda Saldivar, the unhinged admirer who would eventually take
Selena’s life.

The film hits all its story beats in rather methodic
fashion, charting the upward trajectory of a girl who had the spirit to believe
in a dream and both the courage and support system to make it come true. Powered
by the voice of the real-life Selena, it’s the movie’s musical passages that most
connect, naturally. Unlike the recent El Cantante,
a biopic of popular salsa crooner Hector Lavoe starring Lopez and her
off-screen paramour, Marc Anthony, there’s not the need here to try to paint
the picture of an entire burgeoning “scene.” Selena is more tightly focused, and better off for it. Lopez,
meanwhile, captures her subject’s exuberance, to a degree that even neophytes
to the Tejano blend of traditional Latin, rock, R&B and pop influences can
still identify in a universal fashion with the joy she feels on stage.

Housed in a double Amray case with a glitzy cover, the 10th
anniversary, two-disc special edition DVD of Selena features, in a nice, 2.35 anamorphic widescreen
transfer, both the original version of the film (127 minutes) and an extended,
134-minute version, and comes with a Dolby 5.1 surround sound audio track, and
English, Spanish and French subtitles. A half-hour, clip-laden making-of featurette
kicks off the supplemental features, examining both the life of the real Selena
(via copious interview footage with her father) and her family’s involvement in
bringing her story to the screen. A clutch of deleted scenes follows, running
just under 12 minutes in total; most of these relate to small moments of
character shading, either travails of Selena’s early life or some trappings of
success related to her rise. There is also a 19-minute featurette that focuses
more specifically on Selena’s music and career, as well as a collection of brand
new interviews with Lopez and Selena’s family, as well as other cast and crew. While
an audio commentary track would have certainly been a nice inclusion, there’s
more than enough material here to warrant an upgrade for hardcore fans of the
title, and definitely merit a look for those unfamiliar with Selena. To purchase the movie via Amazon, click here. B- (Movie) B+ (Disc)