At this year’s San Francisco Film Festival, Steven Soderbergh delivered an intriguing address on the state of the film industry. What made it so fascinating may, in part, have been the timing. Soderbergh is on what amounts to a farewell tour, having announced his retirement from feature filmmaking. He has expressed a desire to pursue other interests – painting, writing and theater – but at the heart of things is the sense that Soderbergh is fed up with playing the game that one has to play in order to get movies made.

He kicked things off by defining the difference between movies and cinema. “A movie,” he said, “is something you see” whereas “cinema is something that is made.” The making focuses on a “specificity of vision” that anchors the creative process. There isn’t necessarily a negative connotation inherent in the idea of “movies.” What concerns Soderbergh is the industry’s overwhelming reliance on developing a matrix that skews more towards “movies” over “cinema.” He’s merely arguing for balance – much needed in this case.

In the middle of his address, Soderbergh offered a personal endorsement for a cadre of filmmakers – Amy Seimetz, Barry Jenkins and Shane Carruth – who, if he, in an ideal world, had half a billion dollars and the ability to greenlight projects, would be drafted – with a three-picture deal – to follow their muses. Likely, he sees a bit of himself in them, and he’s appreciating the reality that allowed him to eventually move back and forth between the indie and studio worlds. These three folks currently operate in the cinematic, but Soderbergh dreams, for them, of the “what if,” the “what might be.”

“Upstream Color,” the new film from Carruth, is now available on video on demand (VOD) and DVD, having burst out on the festival scene earlier this year (it was a favorite at Sundance). Like “Primer,” his debut, “Upstream Color” bends minds and warps sensibilities to such an extent that multiple viewings and heated post-screening discussions are mandatory to crack the coded frames. It is a love story, featuring Carruth and Seimetz in the lead roles, but filtered through the refracted prism of Christopher Nolan’s “Memento” and Darren Aronofsky’s “The Fountain” with light from Brit Marling’s speculative lamp on a sumptuous backdrop courtesy of Terrence Malick.

Too much, right?

Well, “Upstream Color” demands repeat immersion; its narrative opens up and it provides a key that unlocks a secret door in the minds of the audience as well. Is it a date movie? Why, yes it is, but for the kind of date that never ends. You and your companion may find yourselves linked by a psychic bond on an astral plane, a dreamscape where only the two of you exist. We talk about wanting/desiring intimacy, but this might be far more than we could ever imagine.

The film is about an organism – a worm capable of generating a toxin that, once ingested, creates a link between others that can even cross species. The science embedded in the fiction is epic in scale and scope, but Carruth’s execution is at once lyric and plainly rooted in familiar elements of the every day like pig farms and identity theft.

Likely, no other film this year will feature a thief with a carefully obscured face who explains, “I have to apologize. I was born with a disfigurement where my head is made of the same material as the sun.”

That sounds crazy, surreal and more than a little daunting – and it is. But it also provides an antidote to the blockbusting fare that, over time, comes to feel like the kind of fast-food diet that could wipe us out creatively far too soon. Soderbergh is right; we need some cinema to keep us healthy and whole.

Reach DCP film critic T.T. Stern-Enzi at Film@DaytonCityPaper.com

“Pain & Gain” won the weekend box office race, earning the pole position with a smidge less than $20 million dollars. Not exactly a blistering opening weekend pace, especially for a director like Michael Bay who is known for turbo-charged action-oriented vehicles like “Bad Boys” and its sequel, “Armageddon,” and “The Transformers” franchise. There is a difference with “Pain & Gain” though because this new outing traffics in the realm of true crime with a story that’s ripped from the headlines, which requires a certain finesse not associated with Bay’s loud muscle cars.

Based on a three-part Miami New Times series written by Pete Collins back in 1999, the strange tale investigates a crew of fitness trainers at the Sun Gym who look for a shortcut to the American Dream that veers far off the straight and narrow into kidnapping, extortion and murder. It is not just the dark violence and steroid-driven twists that define the situation, but also a breakdown in the policing of the case that inspires questions about how something like this could happen in a major American city.

Intriguingly, Bay and the screenwriting team of Christopher Markus and Stephen McFeely (“The Chronicles of Narnia” series, “Captain America: The First Avenger”) set contrasting elements against one another, which starts right off the bat with the casting. The muscle-bound trio of performers (Mark Wahlberg, Anthony Mackie and Dwayne Johnson) is not necessarily known for imposing screen personas.

Wahlberg has ventured into the true crime netherworld before (think “Boogie Nights”), but he was more a bumbler there and he’s stumbling down that same path again here as Daniel Lugo, the ringleader of what became known as the Sun Gym Gang. Mackie is the dimmest of the dim bulbs in this “Three Stooges” power pack (who will hopefully fare better as The Falcon in Markus and McFeely superhero follow-up “Captain America: The Winter Soldier”). Yet, it is Johnson who gets the best opportunity to gain from the pain on display here. His character is a violent ex-con with a history of substance abuse who turns to religion to get himself back on the right path, but the road is devilishly slick, offering him no traction – spiritual or otherwise. It is the one true standout able to withstand the pain inflicted in the frames.

But, if “Pain & Gain” is really all about Bay, what does it say – or prove – about him? Is this a new and improved version of the much-maligned helmer or just another piece of evidence in the case against him?

The old Bay hasn’t left the building. Even with a budget that probably only covers craft services for “The Transformers,” Bay’s visual sensibilities tend to over-reach. Light and color blind us – of course, with a film set in Miami, that’s no sin. And when the action ratchets up, Bay delivers in his trademark fashion, yet instead of going big-scale, he rips through flesh and bone. Bodies suffer, but there’s something fitting about it, since we’re in a pumped up milieu.

And while there is a strong link in terms of Bay’s old bag of tricks, “Pain & Gain” dares to open things up in surprising ways. For the first time, a Michael Bay film features references to other filmmakers. The look and feel here recalls Tony Scott’s “Domino” in spots and there are even trace elements of Oliver Stone’s “Natural Born Killers” and “U-Turn” with the mix of violence and super-saturated frames, but in the hands of Bay, the tricks never seem to be deployed towards a purpose or goal. “Pain & Gain” is savant-like true crime satire, a curiously remarkable departure, but one unlikely to point to an intentional movement to something new.

Reach DCP film critic T.T. Stern-Enzi at Film@DaytonCityPaper.com

Every critic out there has been talking about the recent transformation of Matthew McConaughey; we simply can’t stop going on about the former sexiest man alive, the Southern pretty boy who, apparently, after sleepwalking his way through “Ghosts of Girlfriends Past” decided to wake up and tap into the full extent of his charming presence onscreen to create a gallery of characters that would define him as … an actor, and not just a face made to launch a thousand magazine covers. And get this – Matthew McConaughey truly is acting his butt and face off.

“The Lincoln Lawyer” kicked things off with a scruffy vibe, a little rough around the edges, thanks in part to the fact that it was based on a Michael Connelly novel. Connelly’s a crime fiction writer who knows a thing or two about the seedy world of crime, having spent years covering the beat as a journalist, so his insider perspective grounded “Lawyer,” but McConaughey was only getting started. The strange but true tale of a local mortician who befriends and then kills a wealthy widow may have convinced us that we had been underestimating the ability of Jack Black, but the movie “Bernie” also features a subtly lived-in turn from McConaughey as the lawman handling the investigation. No flash or action-oriented gunplay, just a simple man doing a not so simple job. As the titular psycho – amongst a host of offbeat characters – in “Killer Joe,” McConaughey got to sink his teeth into the bloody meat and rip it clean off the bone, but he capped it all off as Dallas, the stripper king extraordinaire in Steven Soderbergh’s “Magic Mike.” Here we got the boldly brazen McConaughey, the Darth Vader of the sex world.

Which might lead us to the question – Where else could McConaughey go? He’s toned down his mega-watt charisma, modulated his Southern manners and accent to fit the tone and mood of a variety of pieces, and convinced us – well, certainly a jaded critic like myself – that he’s the real deal.

The next step is before us. Teaming up with Jeff Nichols – whose “Take Shelter” created a rupture in the indie film scene thanks to a chilling performance from the under-appreciated Michael Shannon and spooky framing that left us wondering if we were living inside the head of a crazy man or someone caught up in a metaphysical dilemma – McConaughey returns to his roots, the lowdown dirty South, the land of people living on the edge, surviving on love hard as bathtub whiskey and dreams of making it long enough to see another day.

Mud (McConaughey) is a fugitive, eating pork and beans out of the can while waiting to connect with the woman (Reese Witherspoon) that he’s killed for. When he meets Ellis (Tye Sheridan) and Neckbone (Jacob Lofland), a pair of teenage boys eager for adventure, Mud flashes his broken smile, spins his tale and hooks the boys into becoming his most willing accomplices against the world.

“Mud” lazily picks at the scraps of Gothic melodrama and neo-noir, gnawing on the fat thighbone of the coming-of-age story. It takes its time, too, savoring each piece of flesh and marrow it finds. And while there’s nothing new in this Southern stew, “Mud” offers sustenance, especially in the bonds formed between McConaughey and his two young co-stars. Each boy is a distinct individual, in word and unspoken deed, and watching McConaughey play off each of them, we can see him responding to the different reflections they present, while clearing away the mud that blinded us to his true performative beauty.  [Ed. note: Although scheduled to open this week, the opening of “Mud” has been moved to next week.]

Reach DCP film critic T.T. Stern-Enzi at Film@DaytonCityPaper.com

Tyler Perry has become a brand, with his name affixed to the titles of his releases and a loyal following, but he has been constantly derided for pandering to his core audience with a lowest-common-denominator approach to issues of values and morality. His old-school Southern church revues began in live theater with broad stereotypes and call-and-response interplay between the performers onstage and the audience; these were reflections rarely seen on multiplex screens or even on television. Upstart studio Lionsgate – sensing an exclusive share of this niche market with little additional effort or expenditure on their part – teamed up with Perry, recognizing that his stage plays offered a potentially lucrative back catalogue comparable to a best-selling book franchise.

And here we are, over a decade in (“Diary of a Mad Black Woman” opened in 2002), with “Tyler Perry’s Temptation” (with the sometime subhead “Confession of a Marriage Counselor”) logging a routine $20 million-plus weekend at the box office. It is the first Perry project of 2013, with a production title on the horizon (“Peeples” from acolyte writer-director Tina Gordon Chism), another big screen vanity project “Tyler Perry’s A Madea Christmas” as well as “The Haves and the Have Nots,” a television series from the assembly line, but “Temptation” teases of a slight change in direction, a move towards a more sensual take on his tried and true focus on sin and redemption.

Judith (Jurnee Smollett-Bell) is a driven young college graduate from the South with an old-fashioned husband (Lance Gross) who was her childhood sweetheart. The couple left their home, traveled north and now Judith is trudging away at a private firm that specializes in setting up rich men with the trophy women they seem to believe they so richly deserve. It is soul draining for Judith, who longs to have her own private practice, until she meets billionaire dot-com guy Harley (Robbie Jones) and succumbs to the dark side of sex and power in relationships.

Trailers for the movie hint at all kinds of smoldering interplay between Judith and Harley that runs counter to the staid workman-like dynamic between Judith and her hubby, but truth be told, the marketable spice comes from the rather empty infusions of Kim Kardashian. It used to be that you couldn’t “trust a big butt and a smile,” and Kardashian is only half-cocked here – I’m not sure her face has been engineered for human expression. If this is all “Temptation” has to offer, then the Devil’s definitely beating a hasty retreat.

Intriguingly though, the movie speaks to the undeniable power of Perry as a force in the industry. Not only can he continue to get films made, he’s able to entice a full-spectrum of performers to sign on for these projects. Smollett-Bell – best remembered for “Eve’s Bayou” and “The Great Debaters” – is an attractive young star on the rise and now she’s got an appearance in a $20 million opener to add to her resume. The critical quality of the project barely matters in the numbers-driven game. Why should it? Perry’s in a position to continue tempting the likes of Eugene Levy and Denise Richards (“Madea’s Witness Protection”), Thandie Newton, Kerry Washington and Whoopi Goldberg (“For Colored Girls”) and Alfre Woodard and Kathy Bates (“The Family That Preys”) into his efforts.

The attention is supposed to be on the movies and that’s where he earns the sub-par ratings from more discerning viewers. He’s learned enough about filmmaking that he’s no longer shooting as if the world is merely a stage, but he’s writing and coaxing performances aimed at the back row. The lack of subtlety is decidedly not very tempting for real film lovers.

The commemoration of the 10th anniversary of the start of the Iraq War has re-introduced heated debate over the Bush Administration’s presentation of clearly false information regarding Iraq’s weapons program and their involvement in the 9/11 attacks, all of which draws attention to the politics behind wartime decisions, especially when abuses of the War Powers Act allow an administration to seize initial control of the process from Congress. As citizens, we can understand and certainly appreciate that our leaders have access to more sensitive information than can be presented to the general public, but when the lives on the line are those of our sons and daughters, husbands and wives, parents, friends and neighbors, the moral stakes are greater for all of us.

And yet, complexities blur and sometimes completely darken the moral landscape. Dror Moreh’s Academy Award-nominated feature documentary “The Gatekeepers” explores the grey areas of national security, not from an American perspective, but rather through the cold survivalist logic of the leaders of Shin Bet, Israel’s secret security force, which operates as a separate – but not exactly disconnected – arm of the Israeli government. These leaders, to a man, highlight the very real split between their goals and those of the nation’s political leaders. Security is about survival at all costs and cares little for public justification, although, depending on the enemy and the situation, there’s a sense that certain rules of engagement can be applied.

Back in 2001, when America joined the global fray in the war on terror, we were ready to wage war, but in truth what has happened is that we waded into the far murkier, trickier notion of worrying about safety from an unseen enemy that had proven a willingness to operate in a post-guerilla offensive. So, what did we do? We banned liquids and nail files as carry-on items when boarding planes among a host of guidelines that made air travel inconvenient at best. But were we truly safer?

From its start in 1962, Shin Bet wasn’t even remotely concerned with inconvenience. This secret anti-terrorist fight was focused on the by-any-means-necessary approach of Israel’s enemies. The organization gathered intelligence through force and coercion, using embedded turned-operatives. They made decisions to take out confirmed targets and expose themselves to questions about collateral damage. They sometimes captured and then abused – to the point of death – detainees. The results of these actions occurred with much less handwringing than takes place in the hallowed corridors of elected office.

Drone strikes on one hand, “Die Hard” in the White House-styled action movies on the other. We don’t know what we want or how to rationalize it. Yet, “The Gatekeepers” offers an example for us to consider, one that we should take advantage of because hearing the cold hard truths may be difficult, but no less so than dealing with the complex realities. As citizens, we all have a responsibility, which I think is what separates Americans from Israelis. Somehow, it seems, in the voices of these leaders, we are also hearing from the people themselves, a nation that understands certain actions must be taken that are far from ideal, but what other choice is there?