Getting back to my regular agenda this week, I find myself in the lazy position of having only one film to analyze, as Todd Haynes's I'm Not There is the only Moguls-eligible limited release set to open Nov. 21. After considering coming up with lots of special treats for the occasion, I figured you might have had your mothly quota of Fantasy Moguls reads already, so instead it's going to be a lite Dances With the Arthouse. But don't worry, I won't stop at Haynes's film, which we've already discussed on several occasions here and there. I will also treat you with a little advance preview of a revered American filmmaker's new film, which won't open for another couple of months. Who? No, it's not Michael Bay. Keep on reading, you curious mogul!

Sooooo ... let's talk about I'm Not There again. I know, some of you may be tired of it, but the truth is I'll never get bored by writing about Todd Haynes's films. After making a long-ago splash (1991) with the cult underground release Poison, the American director really came to the attention of film buffs in 1995 with Safe. That film, his first collaboration with Julianne Moore, was a metaphor about the growing pain and place of AIDS in our society. Three years later, he made a glamourous foray into the '70s pop/rock universe with Velvet Goldmine, a "faux biopic," all shiny and fascinating and starring the stylish trio  of Jonathan Rhys-Meyers, Ewan McGregor and Christian Bale.

The real year of the consecration for Haynes, however, was 2002, with his beautiful homage to Hollywood's 1950's melodramas, the Douglas Sirk-inspired Far From Heaven. A modern look at that era's taboos in society and in cinema, the film won rave reviews, numerous awards, and experienced not negligible commercial success (more than $15 million in grosses). The film, the directors and the actors (Julianne Moore again, plus Dennis Quaid and Dennis Haysbert) may have been snubbed by the Oscars that year, but Far From Heaven nonetheless made a major impact among arthouse lovers. Which brings us to I'm Not There.

Cinephiles around the world have waited five long years for Haynes to get behind the camera again. Apparently not feeling the pressure, Haynes has come back with a strong, odd and fascinating subject: Bob Dylan. Not in the form of a flat, classical biopic, however (something in the vein of Ray). Instead, Haynes chose to navigate unknown cinematical waters, weaving together different periods of Dylan's life and career, with each new persona incarnated by a different actor. And he chose not to pick his actors for their uncanny resemblance to the musician, nor for their similarities in age. He just picked actors he wanted to work with, some who don't necessarily share many things with Dylan. There are six of them.

The least known is Marcus Carl Franklin, who's barely a teenager (and African-American to boot). Then there's Ben Whishaw, who was Jean-Baptiste Grenouille in last year's Perfume. There's also a bearded Richard Gere, a Dylan-disguised Cate Blanchett (a woman!), and two of the most intense actors of their generation: Christian Bale and Heath Ledger. I know I already made the joke in an earlier column, but hey, it's too good to avoid making it a second time: Batman and The Joker in the same film, more than half a year before The Dark Knight spins his web on the big screens next summer! (And if that's not enough talent for you, there's the likes of Julianne Moore — naturally — Bruce Greenwood and Charlotte Gainsbourg playing secondary characters.)

It's safe to say that I'm Not There has all the pedigree and talent any filmmaker would need to cast a spell on the independent cinema crowd. The R-rated musical extravaganza, doubly awarded at last September Venice Film Festival (Jury Prize and Best Actress for Blanchett), has what it takes to be an arthouse pleaser. Of course, you can have the best film in the world, and it could pass unseen in theaters if not handled properly by its distributor. That won't be the case with this one. While the word of mouth is slowly but clearly building, accompanied by some terrific (plus a few mixed) reviews, The Weinstein Company is finally showing signs that its indie moguls brothers are ready to reclaim some of the prestige they've lost over the years. (There's also the nicely orchestrated release of Control in evidence, should you suppose that Bob and Harvey might not be quite back on top of their game.)

I'm Not There will wisely unspool at about a dozen locations, which, in a weekend when all the other films being released are biggies, should assure the film of a first-place finish in the PTA race. With such a terrific cast, respected filmmaker and excellent word of mouth (the film displays a very healthy 8.3 User Rating on IMDb with more than 780 votes), I'm Not There could even cross the arthouse boundary and garner more than what's typically expected (that is to say, not much) from an auteur's film. This one's revenues will almost certainly be measured in the millions, possibly even the tens of millions. For a film that is available in Ultimate Movie Moguls leagues for $11, and in Box-Office leagues for $2, that's pretty interesting, and valuable.

And that's it for Nov. 21. But I'm not gonna let you get back to your forum discussions, slate reflections or weekend predictions without taking a glimpse at a movie laying way ahead, if you live in North America, or only a little ahead if you're in Europe, or even in the present if you're French. (What? Why are looking at me like that? [Grin]) I said the director is a revered American filmmaker, and it's not Michael Bay(!). It's the man from Portland. Yes, Gus Van Sant, the man who directed both Phoenix brothers and both Affleck brothers, and, in one film, a Phoenix and an Affleck. What's my point? No point, except that I love sibling actors (okay, I don't like all the Baldwins).

Anyway ... Paranoid Park is not scheduled to open in North America until March 7 of next year, but it's never too early to talk about a film, especially when it's good. And given the artistic failure that was Van Sant's most recent output, Last Days (sorry Gus, and it's a fan speaking), it's worth building some buzz around his new one. At one point known for being a cinematic voice for the so-called "Generation X," thanks to such films as Drugstore Cowboy and My Own Private Idaho, Gus Van Sant garnered attention at the box office for less personal, but still artistically challenging, films such as To Die For, Finding Forrester and especially Good Will Hunting. Since 2002 though, the Man from Portland has been closer to his cinematic roots, and went back to a minimalist style, first with the powerful desert ballad Gerry, then with the captivating Palme d'Or winner Elephant, and finally with the disappointing rehash of Kurt Cobain's Last Days.

Paranoid Park clearly is originating from that same recent vein of films, more pure in their making but artistically amplified by stylistic experiments, the latter characteristic having contributed to Last Days's failure — the film is far too experimental in its form. With Paranoid Park, Van Sant ditches most of his experimental whims (yes!), though not all of them (d'oh!). Still, he is more focused on his intrigue and narration. The movie tells the story of Alex, a Portland teenager, always on his skateboard and hanging around the Paranoid Park, where all the best 'boarders of Portland come to skate. Then the death of a security guard stationed near the park turns Alex's world upside down. If the experiments with narration or sound are still a bit bothersome, it's nevertheless true that Paranoid Park is another fascinating look into the world and values of American teens, lucid and poetic (if perhaps a little too talkative at moments).

Although it's far from being Van Sant's best film, Park still finds the director digging an interesting track, venturing into themes of the reflections and consequences of our actions. He tackles the question of the Iraq War, and how young Americans position themselves towards it. Perhaps even more fundamentally, he draws a striking parallel between the core of the film, its young hero and his choices, with a more general, national, political modern situation.

You probably didn't come here to read reviews, so I won't get into it any further, but the point, for Moguls player, is that Van Sant is back. The Special Prize for Paranoid Park at Cannes (Prize of the 60th Anniversary) confirms it. How will that go over in American theaters next spring? Park clearly can't rely on star power, since all of the actors are non-professionals (picking up a thread from Elephant), but Van Sant's name by itself will be enough to attract at least his faithful followers. Not a big crowd, of course, but if the release date stays inside March, then Paranoid Park could be a real find at a time of the year when the competition among limited releases isn't quite so fierce.

Todd Haynes and Gus Van Sant. This week was light in films, but what filmmakers! My next column will be quite different, since there should be about a half-dozen limited release to discuss. But none will feature Batman and the Joker in the same film. None. That was this week's privilege. So enjoy it. And until next time, go see an arthouse film!

Indie Jones wasn't nearly this excited when Batman, Wolverine, Batman's butler, Ziggy Stardust, Gollum, Karen Sympathy, Lord John Marbury and Jordan Two Delta were all in the same film last fall. Ask him why not by writing to danceswiththearthouse@gmail.com.