Local & Repertory

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For Laughing Out Loud Judy Holliday won an Oscar for reprising her stage role in the 1950 comedy Born Yesterday, playing the uncouth girlfriend to Broderick Crawford, who hires William Holden to be her tutor and give her some class. A love triangle inevitably results. George Cukor directs, with typical finesse, building upon Garson Kanin’s play. (NR)

Seattle Art Museum, 1300 First Ave., 654-3121, seattleartmuseum.org. $8 individual, $42-$45 series. 7:30 p.m. Thurs., Aug. 14.

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Fremont Outdoor Cinema Before the BBC’s The Office, or NBC’s version with Steve Carell, there was Office Space (screening on Friday as a 21-and-over presentation), Mike Judge’s 1999 expose of Initech, a generic edge-city software company rooted in his own pre–Beavis and Butt-Head cubicle days. Ron Livingston, David Herman, and Ajay Naidu play the trio of malcontents who gradually decide to revolt against their corporate overlords (led by Gary Cole in all his suspendered glory). Jennifer Aniston hints at a better career path not taken as Livingston’s crush at the degrading local TGIF-style franchise eatery, Chotchkie’s, where she’s required to wear multiple pieces of flair. Even if the exact nature and origin of those dreaded “TPS reports” is never explained, we’ve all had to file them. The following night, Ghostbusters remains our favorite comedy from 1984. It’s a total star turn for Bill Murray, playing the loosest and least professional academic on campus. He uses Dan Aykroyd as his uptight foil, with well-timed sideline zingers from the late Harold Ramis (who co-wrote the script with Aykroyd). BRIAN MILLER 3501 Phinney Ave. N., 781-4230, fremontoutdoormovies.com. $30 series, $5 individual. Movies start at dusk. Fri. & Sat.

The Goonies Before he was Sam in the LOTR movies (before he could shave, for that matter), Sean Astin joined fellow child actors including Corey Feldman in the 1985 fantasy-adventure flick The Goonies, hatched by the powerful cartel of Steven Spielberg and Chris Columbus (though directed by Richard Donner). (PG)

Central Cinema, 1411 21st Ave., 686-6684, central-cinema.com. $6-$8. 7 p.m. Fri.-Sat. 3 p.m. Sat.-Sun. 7 p.m. Mon.-Tues.

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Grease Sing-Along 1978’s most popular film cemented John Travolta’s movie superstardom, and gave Olivia Newton-John her only taste of it. And, make no mistake, Grease—despite the fact that everyone in the cast is obviously old enough to be running the P.T.A.—still looks like the stuff of which legends are made. When the T-Bird gang first calls out “Hey, Zuko!” and the camera zooms in to capture Travolta’s magnificent mug, you know you’re in the presence of a god. Zac Efron? As if. (PG-13) STEVE WIECKING Central Cinema, $8-$10. 8 p.m. Thurs.

Je t’aime, je t’aime We haven’t seen it, but this is evidently a new print of Alain Resnais’ 1968 sci-fi film, about a time-travel experiment gone awry. The Village Voice says it’s a somewhat comic reconstruction of a past love affair, as protagonist Claude keep reencountering Catrine, each time with a bit of helpful new information. Sounds a big like Groundhog Day or Edge of Tomorrow, non? (NR)

Northwest Film Forum, 1515 12th Ave., 267-5380, nwfilmforum.org. $6-$11. Fri.-Thurs.

The Lunchbox In teeming Mumbai, a network of Dabbawallahs delivers hot lunches to desk-bound bureaucrats like Saajan (Irrfan Khan), a lonely widower nearing retirement. His food is commercially cooked, while luckier office workers have wives back home who employ the same Dabbawallah delivery service. Somehow the lunches get switched, regularly, between Saajan and neglected housewife Ila (Nimrat Kaur). What’s worse, her distracted and possibly adulterous husband can’t even taste the difference! She’s hurt and offended, while Saajan is delighted with his misdirected meals. The Lunchbox is the simple story of their accidental epistolary friendship. Saajan and Illa communicate by notes, and nowhere does director Ritesh Batra suggest his two leads will ever hook up. The Lunchbox describes an increasingly hectic, impersonal city, where two kindred spirits crave human connection. (PG) B.R.M. SIFF Film Center (Seattle Center), 324-9996, siff.net. $6-$11. 7 p.m. Mon.

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Monty Python Live This is a rebroadcast of one of this month’s 10 live London reunion shows by the legendary comedy troupe (all together, now): John Cleese, Terry Gilliam, Eric Idle, Terry Jones, and Michael Palin. The five have been coy about convening for official performances (as opposed to stage chats), and they commanded a hefty paycheck for doing these gigs after a 30-year break. The Guardian sniffed that the whole lucrative enterprise was to pay for Cleese’s alimony, but tickets sold out instantly, no matter the price, no complaints from fans. Idle, who created the cash cow that is Spamalot, directed the show; and Gilliam, on something of an unwanted hiatus from film directing, was in charge of the animations and archival projections of past Python TV shows and movies—of which there are many. (Hence the “mostly” live qualifier.) But from both The New York Times and Guardian, the reviews were entirely warm about the Pythons’ warmed-over material. This is an oldies show, and they know it: vaudeville for the Lipitor and hip-replacement set (all five are in their 70s); entertainment now fit for grandfather-and-grandson outings. (R) B.R.M. SIFF Cinema Uptown, 511 Queen Anne Ave. N., 324-9996, siff.net. $12-$19. 8:30 p.m. Fri. 1 p.m. Sat. 1 & 8:30 p.m. Sun.

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Moonlight Cinema “I love scotch. Scotchy, scotch, scotch. Here it goes down, down into my belly… ” Oh! Is the camera rolling? Well, then, let the broadcaster finish his drink before delivering the news. Which he does, on camera, without shame—and that’s the way Will Ferrell tears up Anchorman. Even after the recent, inferior sequel, the stupidity of Burgundy and his posse (including Steve Carell, Paul Rudd, David Koechner, and Fred Willard) is undiminished. In 1970s San Diego, the arrival of a hot, blonde, and actually capable woman (the very game Christina Applegate) is more than a threat to this cologne-addled crew—it’s downright emasculating. First the women take our jobs, then they make us give up our free-loving, jazz-fluting freedom! (PG-13) B.R.M. Redhook Brewery, 14300 N.E. 145th St., Woodinville, 425-420-1113. $5. Outdoor movie screens at dusk. Thursdays through Aug. 28.

Movies at Magnuson Park From 2012, Pitch Perfect proved to be a surprise hit, with Rebel Wilson and Anna Kendrick among the college girls competing in a big a cappella singing contest. A sequel is planned for next year. (PG-13)

Magnuson Park, 7400 Sand Point Way N.E., moviesatmagnuson.com. $5. Thursdays. 7 p.m.

Movies at the Mural We’re guessing this is the non-3-D version of last year’s The Great Gatsby, starring Leonardo DiCaprio as the mysterious doomed playboy of the roaring ’20s. Baz Luhrmann’s lavish adaptation demands 142 minutes to relate F. Scott Fitzgerald’s rather short novel. Though we see our narrator, Nick Carraway (Tobey Maguire), making cold calls on Wall Street, this movie doesn’t look forward to the crash of 1929. Luhrmann is interested only in love, not money. And his Gatsby only uses money as glittering lure to attract his lost love Daisy (Carey Mulligan), which requires shady deals with the gangsters he fronts for. The party scenes in Gatsby’s mansion burst with manic energy; everyone’s singing and dancing like it’s La boheme. Yet in the movie’s quieter moments (particularly the ending), Luhrmann gets that somber mood exactly right—when the party’s over and the pool fills with dead leaves and broken martini glasses. (PG-13) B.R.M. Seattle Center Mural Amphitheater, 684-7200, seattlecenter.com. Free. Movies begin at dusk. Saturdays through Aug. 23.

Road House “You’ve got a degree from NYU. What in?” “Philosophy.” “Any particular discipline?” “No, not really. Man’s search for faith. That sort of shit.” Care to guess who that philosopher is, and in what 1989 movie he kicks ass, trades quips with Sam Elliott (long before the Coen brothers got the idea), defeats Ben Gazzara, and wins Kelly Lynch? There can be only one man, one answer: Patrick Swayze in Road House. The 1989 movie finds Swayze in a contemplative mood. He’s a man of peace, yet not one afraid to fight. But the true fight, my friend, lies within one’s own mind. And the calm Swayze seeks through his mastery of martial arts is a deeply spiritual quest. He has a Ph.D in ass-whooping. And each beating is a lesson. (R) B.R.M. Central Cinema, $6-$8. 9:30 p.m. Fri.-Tues.

Ongoing

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Boyhood SEE THE PICK LIST, PAGE 18. Sundance, Lincoln Square, Ark Lodge, Kirkland Parkplace

Burkholder Taylor Guterson, son of novelist David Guterson, scored a hit at SIFF ’11 with the likable Old Goats, starring three geezers from Bainbridge Island whom he’d roped into making their acting debuts. Burkholder is essentially the sequel, which reconvenes its principal cast—mortality tugging ever more insistently at their sleeves. Pushing 90, Teddy (Bob Burkholder) is the long-time tenant and de facto BFF of Barry (Britt Crossley), long-divorced and equally indignant about enforced bachelorhood. Teddy’s libido is more intact, even as his wits are declining. Also returning from Old Goats is David Vanderwal (the best actor of the three), playing an inept and equally lonely New Age vision-quest leader who takes our main duo on a forest debacle. That this excursion comes at the movie’s midpoint hints at its gentle pacing; very, very little happens in Burkholder apart from discussion about, and evidence of, our inevitable decline. The film becomes almost a documentary about the perilous making of a movie. You sense the pressures weighing upon the young director of a fragile cast, the pathos of an actor portraying his character’s—and his own—future mental decline. (NR) B.R.M. SIFF Cinema Uptown

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Guardians of the Galaxy Give thanks to the Marvel gods for Guardians of the Galaxy. If you’ve ever had to suppress a giggle at the sight of Thor’s mighty hammer, this movie will provide a refreshing palate-cleanser. First, understand that the Guardians of the Galaxy tag is something of a joke here; this is a painfully fallible batch of outer-space quasi-heroes. Their leader is an Earthling, Peter Quill (Lake Stevens native Chris Pratt, from Parks and Recreation, an inspired choice), who calls himself “Star-Lord” even though nobody else does. In order to retrieve a powerful matter-dissolving gizmo, he has to align himself with a selection of Marvel Comics castoffs, who will—in their own zany way—end up guarding the galaxy. (His costars, some voicing CGI creatures, are Zoe Saldana, Bradley Cooper, Vin Diesel, and the pro wrestler Dave Bautista.) Director James Gunn (Super) understands that getting character right—and keeping the story’s goals simple—can create a momentum machine, the kind of movie in which one scene keeps tipping giddily over into the next. Guardians isn’t exactly great, but it comes as close as this kind of thing can to creating explosive moments of delight. (PG-13) R.H. Majestic Bay, Sundance, Ark Lodge, Bainbridge, Thornton Place, Kirkland, Bainbridge, Lincoln Square, Big Picture, others

The Hundred-Foot Journey In the South of France, the zaniness begins when the Kadam family, newly arrived in France from India, fetch up with car trouble in a small town. Restaurateurs by trade, they seize the opportunity to open an Indian place—in a spot across the street from a celebrated bastion of French haute cuisine, Le Saule Pleureur. This Michelin-starred legend is run by frosty Madame Mallory (Helen Mirren), whose demeanor is the direct opposite of the earthy Kadam patriarch (Om Puri, a crafty old pro). It’s culinary and cultural war, but will the cooking genius of Papa’s 20-something son Hassan (Manish Dayal) be denied? Madame Mallory can recognize a chef’s innate talent by asking a prospect to cook an omelet in her presence. You can already hear the eggs breaking in Hassan’s future—the movie’s like that. Daval is a good-looking and likable leading man, so it’s too bad he’s given an unpersuasive love story with Madame Mallory’s sous-chef (Charlotte Le Bon, a pretty actress whose facial expression perpetually conveys the silent question, “Are you sure this is in the script?”). Mirren hits her marks, and the food is of course drooled over. Director Lasse Hallstrom (Chocolat, The Cider House Rules, etc.) knows how to keep things tidy, and Journey is pleasant product, even if it seems as premeditated as a Marvel Comics blockbuster. (PG) R.H. Sundance, Ark Lodge, Majestic Bay, Kirkland Parkplace, Bainbridge, others

Magic in the Moonlight Set during the interwar period in the South of France, Magic in the Moonlight isn’t Woody Allen’s worst picture (my vote: The Curse of the Jade Scorpion), but it’s close. Colin Firth plays a cynical magician, who keeps repeating Allen’s dull ideas over and over and fucking over again. Emma Stone, in her first career misstep (Allen’s fault, not hers), plays a shyster mentalist seeking to dupe a rich family out of its fortune (chiefly by marrying its gullible, ukulele-playing son, Hamish Linklater). The recreations of this posh ’20s milieu seem curiously literal, like magazine spreads, so soon after seeing Wes Anderson’s smartly inflected period detail in The Grand Budapest Hotel, which both revered and ridiculed the past. Magic feels like Allen’s re-rendering of a thin prewar British stage comedy he saw at a matinee during his youth, now peppered with references to Nietzsche and atheism. It’s dated, then updated, which only seems to date it the more. Period aside, no one wants to see Firth, 53, and Stone, 25, as a couple. The math doesn’t work. (PG-13) B.R.M. Guild 45th, Kirkland Parkplace, Lynwood (Bainbridge), others