Anytime you see a film in the New Frontiers category at Sundance, it's a dicey proposition. The category tends to showcase a lot of edgier and experimental films that push the boundaries of filmmaking, and as a result, you never know for sure what you're going to get. Sometimes New Frontier films are intriguing, sometimes puzzling, and occasionally dumbfounding, but they're almost always interesting and a welcome break from the usual fest fare. Sometimes, I'll see a New Frontier film and not be wild about it at the time, but it will linger in my head and make me think long after the typical fest fare has come and gone. Such was the case with Reversion, the second feature directorial effort by Mia Trachinger, whose first film, Bunny, garnered her "Someone to Watch" and "Best Feature under $500,000" nominations at the Indie Spirit awards in 2001.

I caught a public screening of Reversion at the Egyptian near the end of the fest. There were a good many walkouts (though I tend to expect that for New Frontier films, and consider it more a reflection of the diversity and edginess of the category than of the films themselves) but there were far more people who stuck around for the Q&A, and quite a pack who followed Trachinger out of the theater afterward to talk more about her film.

Nerakhoon (The Betrayal), the feature directorial debut of cinematographer Ellen Kuras, took 23 years to make. The film, about a family caught in the tides of war, is as much a history lesson about a part of the Vietnam War that is little known as it is a story of how co-director Thavisouk Phrasavath came to America at the age of 14 with his mother and nine siblings after his homeland, Laos fell to the Communists.

Thavi's father, a former commander with the Royal Laotian army, was recruited by the CIA to work intelligence along the Ho Chi Minh trail during the Vietnam War, as a part of the United States goverment's clandestine operations from Laos during the war. When the United States withdrew from Laos, Pathet Lao gained power and Thavi's father was declared an enemy of the state and sent to a "re-education" camp. Thavi, then just 12, was repeatedly arrested because of who his father was, and finally, in fear for his life, left his family to swim across the Mekong River to a refugee camp in Thailand, where he was finally reunited with his mother and siblings two years later.

When it comes to mockumentary type films, there are basically two kinds: good and bad; there's just not a lot of middle-ground with this particular type of filmmaking. Paranormal Activity, which showed at Slamdance, the wild and crazy drunk cousin to the Sundance Film Festival, falls squarely into the "good" camp -- particularly if your definition of "good" includes "will scare the pants off you" and "I had to sleep with the lights on after watching it."

The central idea of the film is that it purports to show actual footage of, well, paranormal activity, in the home of the two protagonists, Katie and Micah, who are living their normal lives until weird things begin happening in their home. Katie, who believes she's been haunted by an invisible, malevolent being since childhood, fears it's followed her to her new home. Micah isn't quite convinced there's anything unexplainable going on, but he purchases a video camera to record their room at night, in an attempt to capture on film any paranormal activity and try to make sense of it. When the camera actually does capture some weird happenings, Micah is at first rather excited by what they have on film; as things escalate, through, both Katie and Micah fear that the entity haunting Katie could turn violent -- or even deadly.

Dysfunctional families and indie films go together like peanut butter and chocolate, and Birds of America, directed by playwright Craig Lucas, has dysfunction in abundance. Morrie (Matthew Perry), who raised his younger siblings Jay (Ben Foster) and Ida (Ginnifer Goodwin) after their father's death, now lives in the family home with his wife, Betty (Lauren Graham). Morrie is a college prof desperately seeking tenure, and the person who is most in a position to make that happen for Morrie is his friend Paul (Gary Wilmes), who lives right next door with his wife, Laura (Hilary Swank), in their perfect house, with their perfectly maintained flower bed, with their perfectly adorable infant.

Morrie is one of those guys who carries the weight of the world on his shoulders, and he represses his emotions so tightly that the stress of it all has manifested itself in a case of constipation so extreme he has a home office set-up in his bathroom so he can work while trying to ... work all that out. Betty, meanwhile, wants desperately to have a perfect life and a child like Laura, but Morrie won't consider parenthood until he makes tenure. Since their whole future happiness is dependent upon whether Paul recommends Morrie for tenure, both Morrie and Betty go overboard in trying not to offend Paul and Laura -- even to the extent of not complaining that Laura's dog does his business in Morrie and Betty's yard. Unlike Morrie, the dog does not have a constipation issue, so they are constantly cleaning up after it.

Consider Death Wish. In the original film, Charles Bronson sought revenge against the thugs who raped his daughter and killed his wife – heinous acts that the audience enthusiastically agrees ought to be punished, even if it requires vigilantism.

Now consider Red, also about a man seeking justice, only this time the murder victim is his beloved old dog, killed with a shotgun by juvenile delinquents. We agree that the act is monstrous, but what kind of punishment is appropriate? Even the most fervent dog-lovers don't generally believe in the death penalty for killers of canines.

That's the dilemma at the heart of Red, an emotionally gripping if slightly over-wrought drama based on a novel by Jack Ketchum. It's set in a small Western town that still has a general store and friendly neighbors, a place where just about everyone has a dog. (The only pet-free families, I note, are the bad guys.) Brian Cox plays Avery Ludlow, a widower whose boon companion is Red, his 14-year-old hound. The two are fishing on the lakeshore one afternoon when a trio of punks comes along to harass and rob him. The leader, Danny (Noel Fisher), ends the encounter by blasting Red with a shotgun.

The problem with making movies in the "grindhouse" style is that true grindhouse movies, almost by definition, were not seen by very many people. The target audience for a loving homage to the genre is therefore limited. Quentin Tarantino might adore the shlocky, violent capers of the 1970s, but how many of the rest of us have even seen them, much less love them enough to enjoy a re-creation of them?

Hell Ride, which Tarantino executive produced and Larry Bishop wrote and directed, is a salute to the ridiculous biker movies that Bishop frequently acted in back in the late '60s and early '70s. With titles like The Savage Seven and Chrome and Hot Leather, these were pure grindhouse cheese, and Hell Ride is either a parody of them or an adoring tribute. The line is always fine when it comes to a Tarantino project -- does he really like these movies, or does he only like them ironically? -- and here it's nearly invisible.

Bishop stars as Pistolero, the leader of a motorcycle gang called the Victors. Fellow members include Comanche (Eric Balfour) and The Gent (Michael Madsen); a comrade named St. Louie has just been murdered by a rival gang, the 666ers, led by Billy Wings (Vinnie Jones) and The Deuce (David Carradine). The Victors want revenge for this, but the often incomprehensible plot has them searching for a buried treasure, too, planted by a woman named Cherokee Kisum before she was killed back in 1976. Adding to the general mayhem is the reappearance of Eddie Zero (Dennis Hopper), a first-generation Victor who was presumed dead but has now returned to offer guidance to his successors.

In one of Smart People's many funny (yet real) scenes, several beers have loosened the inhibitions and tongue of bright, highly motivated teen Vanessa Wetherhold (Ellen Page). As she staggers out of the bathroom, she pauses to ask a bottle-blonde, denim-clad woman "How's it feel to be stupid?" The woman snaps back: "How's it feel to eat lunch alone every day?" Vanessa's drunk enough to be honest: "It f***in' sucks." And that scene, in a nutshell, is what Smart People is about -- how it's one thing to be bright and aware and clever and perceptive, but it also sucks to eat lunch alone. Vanessa's dad Lawrence (Dennis Quaid) is a burly, bearded professor in the English department at Pittsburgh's Carnegie Mellon University - sluggish and surly and sleepwalking through his days. It's established -- carefully and well -- that Lawrence lost his wife not that long ago. His son James (Ashton Holmes) is attending Carnegie; his daughter Vanessa busies herself as Lawrence's right hand woman -- preparing meals, thinking of new titles for his book, advising him on office politics. This has two advantages for Vanessa; she gets to help her dad with his problems, and it keeps her too busy to think about her own.

The Wetherholds don't have much of a life, but at least it has some order to it -- order that's disrupted by the arrival of Chuck (Thomas Haden Church), Lawrence's adopted brother. Chuck is a slow-motion wreck of a man, a financial and professional failure, but he knows things his brainy brother and niece don't. Chuck wants to crash with Lawrence for a while, but Lawrence isn't very interested in that; when Lawrence has a seizure that means his driving license is revoked for six months, Chuck leaps in that window of opportunity headfirst. Chuck, by his very presence, destroys the status quo at the Wetherhold home. What we come to grasp is that maybe that status quo needs destruction.

It's not a bad idea for an indie film: Two sisters, still dealing as adults with the aftermath of their mother's suicide when they were children, are stuck in dead-end jobs. Then one of them gets the idea to stop cleaning rich people's houses for a living, and to start a business cleaning up crime scenes instead. That's the basic idea behind Christine Jeffs' Sunshine Cleaning, starring Amy Adams, Emily Blunt and Alan Arkin.

Adams plays Rose, head cheerleader back in the glory days of high school, now stuck raising her son Oscar (Jason Spevack) alone. Rose cleans houses for a living, a job she's not crazy about, and she's having an affair with her high school boyfriend, Mac (Steve Zahn), who likes Rose enough to have sex on the side, but not enough to leave his wife for her. Her sister Norah (Blunt) lives with their father Joe (Arkin), who's always got a scheme going for finally getting rich. When Oscar keeps getting in trouble in school, Rose decides she needs to make more money so she can put him in private school, and cleaning houses for a living isn't going to get her there.

In the future, our immigration problems will be solved by having Mexicans do their menial work with remote-controlled robots. We'll get our cheap labor, and the Mexicans will stay on their side of the border.

That's according to Sleep Dealer, which makes the suggestion satirically, of course. Set in the near future, the film is loaded with interesting sci-fi concepts but suffers in the execution of them. It falls back on too many clichés and spends too much time on an uninteresting subplot -- problems that could have been avoided if the film weren't so focused on presenting its nifty futuristic quirks.

Our hero is Memo (Luis Fernando Peña), a young man in an arid Mexican village that was ruined several years ago when a water company dammed up the river. In this world, private companies control the water and charge ridiculous prices for it, protected and enabled by the U.S. government. Also in this world, the Internet has expanded to such a degree that you can have nodes implanted into your arms and neck and plug directly into the Information Superhighway. Once you're connected, you can upload your memories and broadcast or sell them a la YouTube.

One of the many comedies debuting at this year's Sundance Film Festival, Assassination of a High School President is a school-set spoof of film noir, with school paper journalist Bobby Funke (Reece Thompson) going from outcast to in-crowd when he dopes out who's been lifting SAT papers from the administration's office. Funke hits the means, motive and opportunity triple play and pins the thefts on student council president and basketball star Paul Moore (Patrick Taylor); his article earns him a coveted internship with Northwestern's journalism program and the affections of Moore's ex, Francesca (Mischa Barton). It's all looking good. Until it isn't. Funke learns new facts that make his sure-thing story look shaky; Northwestern is calling to fact-check the story, and if they find holes, his internship's over before its begun. But Funke's ready to walk the mean halls of St. Donovan's and scour the Jersey suburbs to get the story right. ...

Many critics and observers have already pigeonholed Assassination of a High School President as"Brick played for laughs." And yeah, that's a fairly simplistic assessment; then again, Assassination of a High School President's a fairly simplistic film. Written by ex-South Park production assistants Tim Calpin and Kevin Jakubowski (and between this film and Hamlet 2, it's interesting how the road to Park City, Utah seems to have had an on-ramp in South Park, Colorado this year), Assassination never quite clicks as a total experience. Yes, it's amusing when Thompson, in his self-celebrating inner monologue, says he'll be on the case " ... like pink rubber bands on your sister's braces." And director Brett Simon finds lively, well-shot moments of visual excitement in the clichés of high school life: detention is shot like the big house, a party sequence moves and grooves with giddy chaos. But Assassination has a meandering plot line that dithers when it should drive forward, and lingers at times it should leap ahead. As Funke works leads, we get scenes that expand the running time instead of advance the plot. And yes, holding this film's central pitch up to the life-and-death stakes of Brick -- one of the best films I've ever seen in seven years of attending Sundance -- is going to make the funny-and-goofy stakes of Assassination seem slighter in comparison.

The most powerful documentary I've seen at Sundance is Trouble the Water, a take on Hurricane Katrina and its aftermath unlike anything I've seen. Combining footage shot by longtime Michael Moore collaborators Carl Deal and Tia Lessin with amateur video footage shot from the eye of the hurricane by New Orleans resident Kimberly Rivers Roberts (who received director of photography credit) the film shows the impact of Hurricane Katrina and what happened to the city's poorest residents both during and after the storm.

Roberts, who bought a camcorder off the street for $20 a week before the storm hit, intending to use it only to shoot family gatherings, captured the residents of the 9th Ward, one of the hardest-hit areas of New Orleans, as those who could got out and those who couldn't battened down the hatches in preparation for the storm. Roberts and her husband Scott were among those who were unable to evacuate the city because they had no transportation and no money to go anywhere. The mayor of New Orleans ordered the city evacuated, but there was no public transportation organized to get out those people who didn't have the means to do so on their own.

Upstate New York, and the cold is thin and sharp in the weak harsh light of morning. Ray (Melissa Leo) sits in the driveway in her nightgown, having a smoke, barefoot. The company's bringing her family's new double-wide trailer today, and all she needs to do is give them the first payment. But that money's gone, stolen by her husband, taken to the casino, just like before. The company won't drop off her new home without the payment; they head back to the lot. She gets her sons ready for school, digging lunch money out of the few coins she has left, and then she's going to try and find her husband at the bingo parlor on the Mohawk reservation before working her part-time shift at the American Dollar discount store. She can't give up. She's going to get that home delivered before Christmas. But that's going to take money. And getting that much money that fast is going to take everything.

Written and directed by Courtney Hunt, Frozen River began as a short film that bowed at Sundance several years ago; like Half Nelson, that short became a feature film. The Grand Jury Prize winner from the Dramatic Competition at this year's Sundance Film Festival, Frozen River is anchored by strong performances, carefully crafted and shot on DV with an eye on art, not mere economy. Ray's search for her husband brings her to the Mohawk Reservation; she finds her husband's car, but not her husband. When Lila (Misty Upham) drives off in his sedan, Ray follows her to a trailer in the woods. Lila thought the car was abandoned; the keys were inside. And she needs a car with a push-button trunk. ...

Two years ago, An Inconvenient Truth was surprisingly well-received at the Sundance Film Festival. This year another environmental doc, Fields of Fuel, turned out to be a huge hit with audiences, winning the audience award last night for documentary. Directed by environmental activist Josh Tickell, Fields of Fuel is a film about biodiesel -- fuel made from organic products. It can be made from corn or soybeans, but can also be made from agricultural product less impactful on the environment, like switch grass and algae.

Tickell lays out the case for biodiesel as the fastest and most sustainable means to reduce our country's dependence on oil: Henry Ford and Rudolf Diesel both designed their engines to operate on vegetable oil, but the increasing dominance of the oil barons, in particular John D. Rockefeller, says Tickell, killed biodiesel before it had a chance to get off the ground, laying the framework for the oil dependence that drives everything from home heating to how we get around.

One of the more controversial films at Sundance, Savage Grace dramatizes the real-life story of Barbara and Tony Baekeland, a bizarrely intertwined high-society mother and son whose Oedipal relationship ended in tragedy. Screenwriter Howard A. Rodman, who adapted the script from the book by Natalie Robins and Stephen M.L. Aronson, plucks five key periods in Barbara and Tony's lives from the wealth of source material to sketch out the broad strokes of the path that led to Tony stabbing his mother to death with a kitchen knife in their London penthouse in 1972.

Barbara married above her class to Brooks Baekeland, heir to a sizeable family fortune generated by his grandfather, who invented Bakelite plastic, one of the first artificial manufacturing materials, and a consumer product whose possibilities made it both far-reaching and wildly lucrative. The Baekeland's wealth allowed them to move in high society and to live around the globe. The film focuses on Barbara (Julianne Moore), who was known in their social circle for her outbursts of temper, bouts of depression, and risque sexual encounters. Barbara's relationship with her son Tony (Eddie Redmayne) was tumultuous and crossed boundaries, ultimately resulting in Barbara seducing her son into an sexual relationship, which ultimately led to Tony's breakdown and murder of his mother.

In July 2006, war broke out between Israel and Lebanon. Unable to adequately process what was happening to his home country, Lebanese director Philippe Aractingi decided to pick up his camera and start shooting ten days in, with no script and only the vague nugget of a story in his head. The end result is Under the Bombs, a fictional tale set against the backdrop of a very real battle. Amazingly, there are only two actors in the film; everyone else (citizens, soldiers, journalists) play themselves. When there's a bomb going off in the distance, it's not some expensive special effects shot. Yes, it's a real bomb. The carnage, the destruction, the sadness, the death -- none of it is staged, none of it is part of some elaborate set. It's all real. And then somewhere in the middle is our fictional story, which follows a mother searching for her sister and her son.

Zelna (Nada Abou Farhat) lives in Dubai, yet when her marriage begins to fall apart, she sends her son to Southern Lebanon to stay with her sister for awhile so that he doesn't have to watch his parents fighting all the time. Not long after that, war breaks out between Lebanon and Israel. Determined to find her sister and son, Zelna heads to Lebanon through Turkey. However, because of the blockade, she finally reaches the port of Beirut on the day of the ceasefire. With tensions still high, and the south in ruins, Zelna soon finds it impossible to locate a taxi driver willing to take her south. Eventually, she comes across a driver named Tony (Georges Khabbaz); a hustler and womanizer who sees a pretty face and dollar signs. Thus, the two set out on a journey across a ravaged country in search of a son, a sister and a little sanity.