THE DEVIL’S REJECTS
R, 101 mins.

If you only see one movie this year where a man’s face gets peeled off and worn as a mask, make it “The Devil’s Rejects.” Then again, if that’s the kind of thing you want to see, this is probably your only choice. Horror/rock icon Rob Zombie directed “The Devil’s Rejects,” and he knows he’s got a monopoly on this particular market. Perhaps that’s why the resulting film is so boring.

Mr. Zombie’s first film, “House of 1,000 Corpses,” told the story of teens who were sliced and diced by the psychotic Firefly family. In the sequel, “The Devil’s Rejects,” the local sheriff raids the Firefly family farm and hunts down the fleeing survivors. These include Otis (Bill Moseley), Baby (Mr. Zombie’s wife, Sheri Moon Zombie), and Captain Spaulding (a clown-faced killer played by Sid Haig). Sheriff Wydell (William Forsythe) is shown early on quoting from the Bible just so you know he’s the bad guy.

Shot in 1970s-era Crud-O-Vision, the movie is mostly free of gore. The violent maimings usually happen offscreen, robbing the audience of sadistic thrills. Its one plot twist is swiped from “The Empire Strikes Back,” with Ken Foree playing the Lando Calrissian role.

Aside from the mild pleasure of seeing vets like P.J. Soles and Michael Berryman on-screen again, the sole bright spot is Mr. Moseley, who has the body of Thor and an extremely peculiar voice. Every time Mr. Moseley appears, the movie stirs to life like a moldy zombie. When he’s not there, you can just go back to sleep.

-Grady Hendrix

NOVEMBER
R, 73 mins.

Courteney Cox wants you to know she’s not Monica from “Friends.” She wants you to know she’s also capable of starring in tedious art films. To that end, she appears in “November,” which is pretty to look at but grating to watch.

Clocking in at barely an hour and 15 minutes, and shot in sickly, radioactive shades of blue, “November” lurches to life when Sophie (Ms. Cox) and her boyfriend, Hugh (James LeGros), stop at a deli after a night out. Mr. LeGros runs inside to score the skeletal Ms. Cox some Entenmann’s, but gets killed in a botched robbery. Ms. Cox becomes depressed, goes to a therapist, teaches photography classes at a local college, and has dinner with her mother.

But she’s plagued by portentous omens: Light bulbs drip blood, mysterious slides appear in her carousel, the cameraman zooms in on random details. And just when the signs seem to be nearing to a climax, the whole story starts over again. This time the movie is suffused with yellow light and all the details are different. This happens one more nerve-wracking time, only in green, at which point the audience starts giggling and heckling the actors.

It turns out that Things Are Not What They Seem, and director Greg Harrison believes it will take a barrage of David Lynchian sound effects and visual cues to let us know What’s Really Going On. Ms. Cox and Mr. LeGros do fine jobs, and Ms. Cox looks so unlike herself (and so like Tina Fey) it’s startling. By the time the movie limps to its empty conclusion, however, you want to go to that deli and pump some bullets into them yourself.

-Grady Hendrix

MAKING GRACE
unrated, 87 mins.

Like some kind of horrible indoctrination film, “Making Grace” is fiercely committed to showing you that lesbians can make good mommies. Director Catherine Gund forces you to watch every excruciating step of the process as two pampered, Staten Island-dwelling luppies (lesbian urban professionals) have a baby. This video documentary with a light-jazz soundtrack follows Ann and Leslie as they look for sperm donors, conceive a child via artificial insemination, shop for baby furniture, host baby showers, go to the doctor for check-ups, give birth, change diapers, and throw a first-birthday party for their daughter, Grace. Okay, we get it: Lesbians are boring, too.

Leslie is a sawed-off little rock of Gibraltar who works for Poets House. Ann is a big-mouthed architect. Leslie is elected to be the stay-at-home mom while Ann is elected to squirt out their spawn. Both seem nice, quiet, and kind of conservative.

They have brunches, hang out with supportive ex-girlfriends, and don’t actually do anything interesting except have a baby, something that millions of people do by accident every year anyway. The footage provides all the drama of someone else’s vacation video. You keep waiting for something, anything, to happen. It doesn’t.

-Grady Hendrix

THE EDUKATORS
R, 127 mins.

Jan (Daniel Bruhl, the brooding star of “Goodbye Lenin!”) and Peter (Stipe Erceg) are the kind of 20-something fair-weather anarchists who protested the Republican Convention. They look like any of the rocker clones who populate the East Village: floppy haired poverty tourists with money from home and a truckload of credit card debt.

But these two have a secret: At night they break into homes, rearrange the furniture, and leave notes claiming: “Your days of plenty are numbered. Signed: the Edukators.” Peter’s girlfriend, Jule (Julia Jentsch), a wage slave who hands out anti-sweatshop leaflets during the day, waitresses at night trying to pay down her mountains of debt. In a vain attempt to impress her, Jan tells her about his and Peter’s nocturnal activities, and instantly everything goes haywire.

Shot gonzo-style on video with slice-and-dice editing and Jeff Buckley on the soundtrack, this film keeps lulling you into a state of dread by telegraphing tragedy, then taking zippy twists to prove that things are going to be all right after all. Plan on sticking around through the end credits, which is where the big payoff happens. As an added bonus, “The Edukators” gives a lesson on how to break into houses and stage your very own anarchist actions. Let 1,000 copycats bloom.

-Grady Hendrix

MONUMENTAL
unrated, 88 mins.

When conservationist David Brower first joined the Sierra Club, it was a group devoted mostly to hiking and recreation. Mr. Brower turned it into a political machine, and eventually was named its executive director. “Monumental,” a brisk look at Mr. Brower’s career, sets the story of his pro-environmental campaigns using an indie-country soundtrack.

Kelly Duane’s short documentary, made up mostly of 30-year-old 16-mm footage shot and narrated by Mr. Brower, has the feel of a home movie at times. This makes scenes of devastated landscapes more haunting, but the truncated running time makes “Monumental” seem a bit like David Brower’s Greatest Hits (including blocking the damming of the Grand Canyon, a campaign during which a local reporter was killed). The closest we get to him personally is a few words on how he fought in World War II and was a protege of Ansel Adams. Nevertheless, “Monumental” remains an enlightening look at the man who put Sierra Club on the map.

-Edward Goldberger