The Tulse Luper Suitcases Part 1: The Moab Story

Dir: Peter Greenaway; today, 8pm Cameo 1; (pounds) 7.50/(pounds) 5 conc

HHHHH

The unique Peter Greenaway here embarks upon a project of unparalleled scale: a reinvention of the film medium, comprising three feature films, a TV series, 92 (yes, 92) DVDs, books, installations, websites, and computer games.

The protagonist of this mad, mighty epic is Tulse Luper

(J J Feild), a sort of Greenaway surrogate who travels the world amassing significant objects in his 92 dusty suitcases.

If you're seduced by Greenaway's fussy, layered aesthetic (here more crowded than ever with simultaneous action, repetition, and self-reverential asides), then this is a pleasure akin to rummaging through the attic of a deranged genius. The sheer ambition of the project, and the insistence with which Greenaway challenges the boundaries of cinematic narrative and space, are thrilling. The film's intellectual obtuseness and nervy hyper-complexity will irritate some.

Laurel Canyon

Dir: Lisa Cholodenko; today, 8pm UGC Edinburgh; Saturday, 9pm,

UGC Edinburgh; (pounds) 7.50/(pounds) 5 conc

HHHHH

Lisa Cholodenko turns a standard chalk-meets-cheese tale into a warm, funny comedy, distinguished by superb performances and a witty script. Christian Bale plays uptight doctor Sam, recently married to Alex (Kate Beckinsale), and in search of a new home.

The couple move temporarily into the house of his wild, wilful record producer mother, Jane (Frances McDormand), little realising the culture clash that will ensue or the shockwaves it will produce. McDormand glows in a strong, sexy role; supporting players Natascha McElhone and Alessandro Nivola also impress.

Four Eyes

Dir: Duncan Finnigan; today, 10.30pm, Cameo 1; Thursday,

8.30pm, GFT 2; (pounds) 7.50/(pounds) 5 conc

HHHHH

The Scottish films on the programme this year are dizzyingly diverse - from the solemn elegance of Young Adam, to the quirky charm of Wilbur. Four Eyes is a winning example of sheer gung-ho inventiveness: shot on a tiny budget with all expense spared, but witty, sharp, and affecting nonetheless.

The tale of a cash-strapped trainee salesman trying to outwit his obnoxious boss and resist his own gambling habit, it's inevitably rough at the edges. However, the performances are excellent, and the ideas sparkle - suggesting that Finnigan and his team are names to watch for the future.

All Tomorrow's Parties

Dir: Yu Luk Wai; today, 5.30pm, Filmhouse 2; today, 6pm,

UGC Edinburgh; (pounds) 7.50 ((pounds) 5 conc)

HHHHH

Yu Luk Wai's second film is a shimmering dystopian fantasy, set in a ravaged Asia of the near future. A shady sect has taken control, and citizens have been rounded up into re-education camps. Rather than focusing on the effects and practices of this oppressive regime, however, the film chronicles its failure.

The sect falls; the people wander the country, unsure of how to use their freedom. What follows is a slow, woozy, eccentric blend of science-fiction and simply-observed human drama, which never offers the easy comfort of a conventional plot structure, but compels through its stunning imagery and slow, mournful rhythms.

This is also one of a number of films at this festival (16 Years of Alcohol, Solid Air, and the aforementioned Tulse Luper Suitcases) highlighting the creative possibilities opened up by advances in digital video technology; show this to anyone who thinks digital films have to look scrappy and amateurish.

A Boy's Life

Dir: Rory Kennedy; today, 6pm, Filmhouse 3; (pounds) 7.50/(pounds) 5 conc

HHHHH

There's always something a little disconcerting about documentaries that pull you in one direction before whipping out the rug from under you and showing you another way of looking at things entirely.

Twist endings in fiction are one thing, but when you're purporting to represent the truth, doesn't a twist just indicate an undue level of manipulation? In any case, the story is a grimly compelling one: that of a young boy growing up in the Deep South of America in the care of a grandmother who has devoted her life to tackling his mental and behavioural problems.

Those problems, however, are not what they seem. There's a definite element of voyeurism here, and rather too much of a sense that the film-makers are inviting us to gape with prurient horror at the tragic lives of the poor and ugly. Still, it's gripping stuff; ambiguous, challenging, and finally very moving.