Friday January 15 through Thursday January 21 at Village East Cinema

It’s about time we got a moon-landing conspiracy theory comedy– I mean, it’s all right there in front of us: everyone’s super loving the ’70s right now (don’t pretend you haven’t seen betches in bellbottoms recently, it’s happening whether we like it or not), cynicism regarding the government and Hollywood is at an all time high, and people are finally realizing there’s a high probability that lizard people rule the world.

As the story goes, after the release of 2001: A Space Odyssey, Stanley Kubrick had proven that his space movie chops were so impressive, the U.S. government believed he had it in him to fake the moon landing with the goals of pacifying the American people into thinking their overlords had it all under control, and beating out the Reds in the space race. We know this to be “true” from many reliable sources. Can we blame them? We’re sure faking it was way cheaper than the real thing.

But Moonwalker presents to us a whole new version of crazy talk. Starring Ron Perlman and his enormous head as a nutso CIA agent, Kidman, who’s in charge of recruiting Mr. Kubrick to fake the Apollo 11 moon landing, this superbly set film takes a different approach to the story. Kidman shells out some serious money for Kubrick to manufacture the moon hoax only to be completely screwed over by the filmmaker. With only a week left before deadline, he enlists the help of a skeezy red-headed rock band manager (Rupert Grint) to navigate the Hollywood underground and help him search for a willing director.

White of the Eye
Wednesday January 6, Thursday January 14, Saturday January 23, and Monday January 25, 10 pm at Spectacle Theater

Spectacle calls this 1987 pulp noir, directed by Donald Cammell an “unmissable gem,” which was convincing enough, until we saw Cathy Moriarty sipping white wine in a massive fur coat backed by an original soundtrack composed by Pink Floyd’s Nick Mason. And then we were sold.

Set against the backdrop of the stark landscapes of the suburban American Southwest, David Keith plays Paul White, normal enough guy suspected of being the serial killer who’s terrorizing this wealthy gated community. His target? Housewives. The film has a certain lingering beauty, emphasizing the piercing boredom of an isolated community and suburban banality. Just below the surface of all this hum-drum and desert dryness are closely-guarded secrets and mysticism, revealed through a non-linear storyline interspersed with flashbacks.

This May Be The Last Time
Monday January 18, 7 pm at Anthology Film Archives

Documentary filmmaker Sterlin Harjo starts with a family mystery, the disappearance of his grandfather in 1962. Part of Anthology’s series, Through Indian Eyes: Native American Cinema, to help unravel what actually happened, Harjo (of Muscogee Creek and Seminole nations heritage) looks to the devotional songs of his people that tell stories about the past and carry grief from generation to generation. “Our histories are not written,” Harjo says. “They are told through our songs.”

These oral histories in song are thought to be “the first American music,” as the doc points out, but they’re much more than dry epic poems– they are deeply emotional, something that can be gleaned from simply hearing them, without necessarily having to understand the language.

Dracula Has Risen From The Grave
Friday January 15 through Sunday January 17 (midnight screenings) at IFC Center

Count Dracula is alive, indeed. Don’t miss your chance to see this old-school (1968) take on the Vampire King– long fingernails, cat-like eyes, widow’s peak, cape, rings and all– in the lush color of 35 mm. Maybe Christopher Lee’s best known role, this particular portrayal of Dracula– a character who’s never stopped fascinating us– is of the seductive monster variety.

Set in Transylvania (duh) the vampire terrorizes a small village, sucking the blood of buxom broads and altar boys (oh my!). After biting a bunch of people and creating general mayhem, it all comes down to a battle between Dracula and the boyfriend of one of his near-victims, because we’re talking the 1960s here– helpless damsels in distress are the law by which we once lived. The film ends with a spectacular scene in which Dracula is impaled by a cross (one that Maria actually flings into the air) which inspires her boyfriend (who had previously lost faith in his Christian god) to re-devote himself.