LASSIE
PG, 100 minutes

She’s baaaack. Lassie, the world’s most famous motion picture mutt, returns just when it seemed like she’d become a pop culture punchline. Contrary to popular belief, Lassie hails from Yorkshire, not America, and this flick returns her to her roots, going back to basics and revealing that while this old dog doesn’t know any new tricks, she can still wring a tear or two when duty calls.

It’s the eve of World War II and everyone’s poor, kids are being stored for safekeeping out in the countryside, and tiny Joe Carraclough loves his Lassie. But there’s not enough to eat and when Lassie catches the eye of the Duke (Peter O’Toole), Joe’s parents, like many parents before them, realize that if Peter O’Toole wants your dog or your daughter there’s no stopping him. They sell Lassie for grocery money and she’s dragged off to Scotland to entertain the Duke’s lonely granddaughter, Cilla, much in the same way that Cilla is later dragged off to boarding school by her parents. Lassie escapes (inspiring Cilla to make her own break for freedom) and journeys hundreds of miles back home.

The supporting cast is loaded with extraordinary actors — Samantha Morton, Peter Dinklage, Jemma Redgrave — who knock this simple script right out of the park. While the director occasionally cracks open the scenes of Lassie running

through the majestic Scottish countryside like so many cans of dog food, the low-key sincerity of this endeavor achieves a corny grandeur. This Lassie doesn’t warn people of trouble at the old mill but passes through their lives, reminding them of their better selves. There’s a reason we’ve made 10 movies and three television series about Lassie: she’s a good dog. And this, surprisingly, is a good movie.

— Grady Hendrix

SHOLAY
Unrated, 200 minutes

You don’t ask an Indian if they’ve seen “Sholay,” you ask them how many times they’ve seen it. This curry Western, playing at the Film Society of Lincoln Center through September 5, towers over the Bollywood filmscape as the most popular Indian movie ever made. Released in 1975 and initially branded a flop, “Sholay” (Flames) became a word-of-mouth megahit. Patrons would quote the dialogue during screenings, perform the sound effects, and sing along with the musical numbers. The villain, Gabbar Singh, has become a cultural icon on the level of Darth Vadar. At one Mumbai cinema, “Sholay” ran for five years straight.

Thirty-one years later, “Sholay” doesn’t look like half the movie it was, but even half of “Sholay” is bigger than most modern day movies. Jai (Amitabh Bachchan, Bollywood’s biggest star) and Veeru (Dharmendra) are two thieves recruited by a village chief to liberate his little hamlet from the bandit king, Gabbar Singh; call it “The Seven Samurai” minus five samurai. Taking its cue from Italy’s bleak, ultra-violent spaghetti Westerns, “Sholay” overflows with the red stuff, and its heroes and villains are all men with no names: Largerthan-life anti-heroes who come from nowhere, kill a lot of people, and go back to nowhere when they’re finished.

Some lowbrow comedy in the early reels, courtesy of a police informant and a prison warden with a Hitler moustache, may turn Western viewers off, but the film’s slick photography and infectious 1970s soundtrack will hook you. If it feels a little full of itself, that’s because it’s full of everything: death speeches, dramatic monologues, hobnailed boots, musical numbers, and even the sultry Helen in an item number as a booty-shaking gypsy dancer, tacked on to the movie like a hipshimmying exclamation point. As if “Sholay” needed one.

— G.H.

CROSSOVER
PG-13, 95 minutes

Razzle-dazzle streetball star Philip “Hot Sauce” Champion paces the most exciting moments of “Crossover,” a low-budget drama about the phenomenon of underground basketball and the ambitions of inner-city teenagers. Director Preston A. Whitmore II took over an abandoned train station in downtown Detroit to create a surreal arena for the games staged in his movie, which unfold in the wee hours before a screaming crowd amped up by a DJ, cheerleaders, and Evil Knievel-style stunts involving slam dunks and the defiance of gravity.

“Hot Sauce” is a minor character but is known as the man to beat, as his rival Tech (Anthony Mackie of “Half Nelson”) strives to prove himself and lead his ragtag team to a win, and a fat payoff from Vaughn (Wayne Brady, currently host of “Celebrity Duets” on Fox, gone slick and slippery), a former NBA agent turned club-owner and racketeer. To do so, Tech enlists his best friend Noah (Wesley Jonathan), a gifted player who has won a basketball scholarship to pre-med school at UCLA. One thing leads to another (and another), and Noah quickly finds his promising future at risk, coming under pressure to make a deal with Vaughn, who sees this sharp-shooter as his ticket back to the big leagues.

Underwritten dialogue and bumper sticker intentions (“Don’t be a fool, stay in school,” etc.) dispel any hope of originality in a niche that has been developed pretty thoroughly by directors like John Singleton (“Baby Boy”). The most credible performance belongs to the 15-year-old comic Lil’ J.J., who plays Tech’s sidekick and partner in hustling street games, which are hyperaggressive bouts played for money.

Despite his diminutive stature — or perhaps because of it — the youngster lives for the game, tagging along after Tech like a puppy. The character’s enthusiasm is contagious, though not much else about “Crossover” is.

— Steve Dollar