THE MAN
PG-13, 83 minutes

Nothing in Hollywood has a shorter life expectancy than a cop’s partner, and “The Man” is barely five minutes old before arms dealers kill the partner of Derrick Vann (Samuel L. Jackson). Vann vows vengeance and goes undercover to take out the baddies but, in a wacky twist of fate, dental-supplies salesman Andy Fidler (Eugene Levy) blunders into the middle of an undercover arms deal, and he and Vann are forced into a reluctant partnership.

As ATF agent Derrick Vann, Mr. Jackson wears black, drives a black Cadillac, and is, himself, black. There’s only one conclusion to be drawn from all this: He’s one bad mutha. Mr. Levy’s Andy Fidler is not only white, but timid, law-abiding, and motor-mouthed. In other words, extremely white. But not even racial differences can stop the inexorable grind of the Hollywood screenplay, and as surely as there will be fart jokes, these two men will learn life lessons from one another. By the end of the movie, Vann has taught Andy to be more aggressive and violent, while Andy has taught Vann to be nicer to his family.

Since the dawn of time, black cops have been given incompatible partners in the interests of motion-picture entertainment: from “In the Heat of the Night” on through “Lethal Weapon,” “48 Hours,” “Rush Hour,” and “I Spy.” What “The Man” brings to the genre is Vann and Andy’s crippling paranoia that their friendship will be mistaken for homosexuality, a theme that not only runs through every scene, but also forms the basis for almost every single joke in the movie.

– Grady Hendrix

KAMIKAZE GIRLS
unrated, 100 minutes

Ichigo is tough: She spits a lot and rides a moped. Momoko is soft: She wouldn’t dream of leaving the house without being fully armored in frills, petticoats, a parasol, and a bonnet. When these two young women from clashing schools of fashion meet, it’s hate at first sight, but they share the same weakness: They live in a podunk, Hicksville, middle-of-nowhere cow town in Japan.

In the tradition of buddy movies everywhere, they have to learn how to get along in order to combat the cold, cold stares of the conformists who surround them. But “Kamikaze Girls” has a secret weapon that most odd-couple movies don’t have: It’s actually good.

A hit in Japan, “Kamikaze Girls” is an all-out attack on the sweat-suit-wearing, department-store-loving, junk-food-eating middle class who harsh on all the fabulous freaks. Director Tetsuya Nakashima shoots in hard-candy colors that make the screen look like an exploding pinata of fun, and deploys a laser-guided arsenal of animation, whip pans, special effects, enormous wigs, sight gags, and flashbacks to 18th-century France as he explores the legend of gang boss Himiko and the mysteries of “Baby the Stars Shine Bright.”

There’s not a boring frame in this movie, but the mayhem is anchored by two ace performances: Anna Tsuchiya plays Ichigo like Sid Vicious stranded in the Mall of America, while Kyoko Fukada gives us a Momoko who’s as prissy and pissy as a Persian cat. This is one of the best films about female friendship ever made, and if you don’t like it, you need to look deep, deep inside your chest. Do you actually have a heart? Or is it just a little carbonized chunk of coal?

– Grady Hendrix

TOUCH THE SOUND
unrated, 99 minutes

Director Thomas Riedelsheimer, who has made his short career searching for odd-yet-inspiring stories to document (the subject of his previous film, “Rivers and Tides,” spent his days making sculptures out of anything he could find outdoors), has made both a rambling and meditative profile on deaf percussionist composer Evelyn Glennie in his sophomore feature-length effort, “Touch the Sound,” now playing at the IFC Center.

When she was 8, Ms. Glennie began to lose her hearing – though she went on to success as a musician. The world proves to be Ms. Glennie’s instrument here, as she celebrates sound that comes from something as traditional as a tapping snare drum or as unlikely as unrolling paper.

Mr. Riedelsheimer’s documentary is a concert film of sorts, showcasing long passages of Ms. Glennie playing percussion instruments with various partners. While she is technically unable to hear the music she is making, Ms. Glennie feels sound through vibration. At one point she argues she can hear music better than those who are not deaf. (Earlier this year the fictional film “It’s All Gone Pete Tong” covered similar material – a hearing-impaired DJ making music through vibrations).

While Ms. Glennie is on screen almost all the time, we are nevertheless given precious little time with her. Performances are bookended with experiences from Ms. Glennie’s life, but these prove to be short, and other than a visit back to the Scottish farm where she grew up, insubstantial. This seems a missed opportunity in an otherwise visually lush and uplifting film.

– Edward Goldberger