Photograph by Denis Rouvre/Corbis Outline

After a decade making movies to woo film-festival-goers (Gerry, Elephant, Last Days) Gus Van Sant is returning to the mainstream. Sort of. His latest, Milk, starring Sean Penn, is a biopic about San Francisco city supervisor Harvey Milk, the first openly gay man elected to public office, in 1977. Here, Van Sant discusses the challenges of bringing a gay icon's life to the big screen. David Walters

Q: Is it true that Milk's friend Cleve Jones, who's played by Emile Hirsch in the film, brought you this script?

A: I stayed in Cleve's house in 1993 when I was working on the screenplay for The Mayor of Castro Street, a different Milk film. Four years ago, he called and said two guys were making a musical about him. One of them was Dustin Lance Black. Three years later, Cleve called again and said he wanted to fly up to see me in Portland, Oregon, because Black had written another script—a drama about Harvey Milk.

Q: Oliver Stone's W was released before the election, to spur debate. Did you think about doing the same thing?

A: The one issue the film could speak to is Proposition 8 in California, the repeal of gay marriage—which is a tragedy. And we're going to screen it before the election to have a part in that. But because it's a political film, if it had opened before the election, the end of its life could have been November 4. It could have become a film you were supposed to see during the election, and after it was over, it's "Oh, that's the election film, right?"

Q: Because you're a gay man yourself, was there added pressure in making this film?

A: There was a little less pressure as a gay man. But it's always hard to make a film that's set in a social milieu. Like Paranoid Park: We were in the skateboarding world, and that's difficult. It has its fast-and-hard skate-or-die politics, and so does the gay community. I think there's a very wary contingent of the gay population that's like, "Don't fuck this up or we'll fuck you up," but there's also a very forgiving side that's like, "Finally, we get our Harvey movie." We ended up showing pretty much only the political aspects of the story, not the Queer as Folk stuff—the street cruising and bathhouse life.

Q: James Franco talked to Jimmy Kimmel about wearing a prosthetic penis, and Sean Penn said he texted Madonna to tell her about his first same-sex kiss. Does that kind of thing distract from the seriousness of the film?

A: He texted Madonna? [laughs] It doesn't bother me. I view things in the "What would Harvey think?" way, and I think he'd love that.

The trailer for Milk

Photograph by Ishika Mohan/Courtesy of fox

British director Danny Boyle, best known for the gritty heroin opus Trainspotting, has accomplished the impossible: He's brought genuine drama to the kitschy roving lights and final answers of Who Wants to Be a Millionaire. His latest film, Slumdog Millionaire, tells the story of Jamal, an Indian teenager whose hopes for escaping poverty and getting the girl hinge on winning the Hindi version of your grandma's favorite game show. Amid accusations of cheating, Jamal is forced to explain how he became so knowledgeable during his early life, part of which was spent with a Fagin-like caretaker who blinded orphans to make them more profitable beggars. The film's complexity belies the sparkle of its Regis-y backdrop—right up until the Bollywood song-and-dance number during the closing credits. David Walters

The trailer for Slumdog Millionaire

Photograph courtesy of ZoomWerks

Got a minute? Quantum of Solace director Marc Forster opens up about taking on the 22nd Bond film—and why he did away with the impressive gizmos.

Q: You've said that Daniel Craig convinced you to direct the film. How did he sell it?

A: He humanized Bond. He's such an interesting and incredible actor. In the last five minutes of Casino Royale, Bond lost a lot of his life. I thought it would be interesting to explore the character further—those demons. He's a bit of an emotional mess.

Q: What personal touches did you bring?

A: We have a franchise, and none of the films have the handwriting of their directors. It's like working under political censorship: You have to subliminally insert your message. But I felt I had to create a Bond who is responsible for his actions and isn't just blasé.

Q: So fans can expect tweaks to the template?

A: I included the Bond qualities I loved and threw out the things I wasn't so keen on. I loved the stylistic approach in the early sixties—and the exotic locations. I threw out some of the gadgets. There are so many gadgets in our life today already.

Q: Did you watch Bond movies as a kid?

A: No, the first Bond movie I saw was in the late eighties, with Timothy Dalton. In the early nineties, I had a marathon and watched them all through. That was just before GoldenEye came out. When I decided to do this movie, I went back to watch my favorites—Your Majesty's Secret Service, Dr. No, From Russia With Love, and obviously, Casino Royale.

Q: You've directed several critically acclaimed films—Monster's Ball, Finding Neverland, The Kite Runner—but none with this much box-office potential. Is that stressful?

A: It's been crazy. It was five times the budget I've had before, and people started saying it might be the most successful Bond film ever. So the expectations are huge. I didn't realize you're constantly under the microscope of the world media.

Q: Why did you turn down an offer to direct the next Bond film?

A: Every film I've done was different from the one before. I like it that way. It keeps me on my toes. Ryan Wenzel

A trailer for the new Bond film

Photograph courtesy of 42West

Got a minute? Action-movie star Jean-Claude Van Damme opens up about his soft spot for animals and why playing himself in JCVD—in theaters November 7­—was so therapeutic.­­

Q: Was it strange playing the role of Jean-Claude Van Damme?

A: I didn't play—it was a truthful situation. That's why it's so good. Thank God I was 47. It was a good timing for me to peel back the skin and show the inside of the fiber—and that dry blood, those scars, you know? It's very strange—movie therapy.

Q: Was it painful to revisit your divorce drama, child-custody cases, and past drug use?

A: Sometimes you have tears about memories, but in that sadness you find joy. The drama and pain of being alone helps you when you go back to normal. You can appreciate it much more.

Q: Did you help with any of the writing, since you were the central character?

A: The director knew everything about me because he's super-intelligent and grew up with some of my posters on his wall. He can tell what's between the lines. People think they can read articles and go on TV to comment about me. That's like people who are reading the Bible and just following a book—you have to read people, too.

Q: What's next for you?

A: I'm directing this movie Full Love. We'll see how that goes. If I go to the gym at least three times a week and if once a week I have a good dinner with friends, I can be happy. And I love the ocean. I'm not rich enough to own a yacht, but that is my dream. I would love to live on the water, my friend.

Q: You canceled publicity appearances for the film because one of your dogs went into a coma. How's he doing?

A: We call him Scarface. He had a stroke. I talked to him in his ear, and I prayed because I believe in forces. Now he's doing fine. I see dogs on the street, and I adopt them. I took seven dogs from Thailand, and a few of them are paralyzed. One has three paws instead of four. One is limping, so we bought him a wheelchair. After this movie, I spent my own money to fly them back by private jet. In commercial, they can have heart attacks because of stress—it's dark and icy cold.

Q: So you're a dog lover.

A: I love animals. I have nine dogs and a kitty. My biggest orgasm—not in a sexual way—is to walk with my dogs on the beach. In Belgium we have these wide sidewalks. You feel like you're on the Planet Moon, and I can make them feel like movie stars. Ryan Wenzel

The trailer for JCVD

Photograph by Steve Wilkie

It's the year 2056 and organ transplantation is a medical necessity for some, an addictive vanity for others, and an everyday reality for all thanks to GeneCo, a biotech company that sells and finances body parts—and enforces a nonnegotiable repossession clause. This is the conceit of Repo! The Genetic Opera, a musical directed by Darren Lynn Bousman (of Saw II-IV). Amazingly, it's also the most conventional aspect of the film. A soaring duet unfolds around a half-dead stabbing victim, Sarah Brightman gouges out her own eyes mid-aria, Paris Hilton's face falls off—these and a thousand other gimmicks could have made Repo! just a slasher flick with a catchy soundtrack. Instead, it's the sort of brilliant gorefest that might result from a Marilyn Manson-staged revival of The Tap Dance Kid. Bloody good stuff indeed. David Walters

The film's trailer

Photograph by Andrew Bush

Kevin Smith made a porno—or at least the MPAA thought he did. But with his first movie since Clerks II, the 38-year-old director isn't looking to give you wood, just a few more laughs.

Q: How did you convince the MPAA to change the rating of Zack and Miri Make a Porno from NC-17 to R?

A: For the sex scenes, I cited Taking Lives. I may be the only one to ever cite Taking Lives for anything, but that Angelina Jolie and Ethan Hawke sex scene on top of a dresser? That was engineered to titillate. There's a lot of thrusting and bared breasts—so it's analogous to our scene, except ours is a comedic take on porno sex. And then I pulled Jackass out in defense of some of the film's egregious bodily fluids.

Q: So it's sexually explicit but also pretty touching. Can you escape comparisons to Judd Apatow?

A: Actually, it kills me when people go "Oh, you're doing an Apatow?" I guess it's an Apatow if you discount Chasing Amy. I'd never suggest that Judd took his cues from us, but we've been making movies since 1997 that are very raunchy but also sweet. On the other hand, The 40-Year-Old Virgin and Knocked Up did prove that you can be filthy and sweet while also making a shitload of money. So that was a big help.

Q: Then there's your next movie, Red State.

A: Yeah. It's a religiously and politically dense horror movie about fundamentalism taken to the extreme. It's so relentlessly bleak that it makes The Dark Knight look like Mamma Mia! Nobody wins, there's no upshot to it, and there's absolutely nobody to root for.

Q: Um, so what will people compare that to?

A: It's Rosemary's Baby mixed with Race With the Devil. And did you ever see that documentary about the raid on David Koresh's compound, Waco: The Rules of Engagement? It's like that, too. David Walters

One of the film's trailers

Got a minute? First-time director Jennifer Venditti talks about Billy the Kid, her award-winning documentary about a talkative 15-year-old misfit in rural Maine.

Q: How did you find Billy?

A: I was casting for another project on location in Maine. I'd brought actors from New York, but we were looking for extras. I like to include nonprofessionals, so I asked for access to the high-school lunchroom to observe kids. I couldn't believe the same cliques existed. I asked them why they sat where they did and if they ever tried sitting with anyone else. Some tough guys told me they'd invited someone else over and it didn't go well. They pointed to Billy. He was sitting at a table by himself. Everyone described him with labels—weird, freak—­­but they weren't helping me understand him. I made this film to understand him.

Q: What did you learn from him?

A: That we're all on the same journey. We're all trying to find love, we're all trying to be accepted. We just get there differently. Billy has so many reasons to fall down, and he doesn't. He's not perfect, and the film doesn't glorify him.

Q: The intimacy gives the film its power. Was it hard to get Billy and his mom to open their home to your crew?

A: My intention was to give him a voice—he wasn't being heard, and he deserved to be. So his mom trusted me. I filmed for only eight days. If I had stayed any longer, it would have been intrusive.

Q: Billy frequently finds himself in awkward conversations with girls and classmates. Was it hard to watch that up close?

A: Oh my God, yes. Sometimes at the end of the day I would cry, or I'd try to talk to Billy. But you don't want to interfere too much.

Q: You've said you like underdogs. What makes them so appealing?

A: I'll have to go to therapy for a long time to figure that out. I like people who go for it, people who aren't afraid to be who they are—and people like that aren't always accepted.

Q: Billy says in the film that he wants his next project to be an action movie. Any interest in directing that?

A: [Laughs] No, totally not my genre. Anyone who wants to, feel free. I'm sure he'd love to read any scripts. Ryan Wenzel

The trailer for Billy the Kid

Photograph courtesy of Sony Pictures Classics

Warning: Before you see Oscar-winning screenwriter Charlie Kaufman's overwrought, linguistically challenging directorial debut, you'll want to familiarize yourself with these highfalutin terms. Further warning: Reading this glossary may make you want to skip the movie altogether. David Walters

1. Synecdoche
[sih-NECK-duh-kee] n. a figure of speech in which a part is used to represent the whole ("the screen" for movies) or the whole stands for a part ("the law" for police).
"In the film, Philip Seymour Hoffman, a theater director who attempts to make sense of his life by putting on a massive stage reenactment of it, uses his set as a synecdoche for a world he can no longer control."

2. Paronomasia
[par-uh-noh-MEY-zhuh] n. a play on words; a pun.
"It was pretty bold of Kaufman to use paronomasia in the title of his movie, which is set in the town of Schenectady, New York—after all, most filmmakers like people to be able to pronounce the title of the movie."

3. Labyrinthin
[lab-uh-RIN-thin] adj. intricate; involved.
"You'd expect the writer of Being John Malkovich and Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind to pen a labyrinthine screenplay, but without a seasoned director like Spike Jonze or Michel Gondry, there was no one to untangle it."

4. Pretentious
[pri-TEN-shuhs] adj. making an exaggerated outward show; ostentatious.
"God, Charlie Kaufman is pretentious."

The trailer for Synecdoche, New York

Photograph by K.C. Bailey

We'd suggest that you keep an eye out for the visually impaired woman in Blindness, but nearly everyone in the film is the victim of a rampant sight-stealing epidemic. Still, you can't miss Brazilian actress Alice Braga, the sexy 25-year-old who first charmed us with subtitled dialogue in 2002's City of God. Braga doesn't shun the mainstream, though; she fought zombies in I Am Legend, she tries to evade INS agents in the upcoming Crossing Over, and next year she'll star in Repossession Mambo, a futuristic thriller in which transplanted organs are reclaimed. By then the point should have been made: When humanity is threatened by mutants or plagues, it's best to be near a comely young woman with an accent. David Walters

This fall, Hollywood's next generation of filmmakers comes into its own. Yaran Noti

1. PETER SOLLETT

The Résumé: An NYU film-school grad, the 32-year-old Sollett broke out in 2002 with Raising Victor Vargas, which eschewed drug and drive-by clichés to tell a touching inner-city teenage love story.

The Latest: In Nick & Norah's Infinite Playlist, a young rocker pursues a hot girl—only the band is queercore, and the protagonist is a bumbling bass player portrayed by the always-charming Michael Cera.

The Model: Jason Reitman, whose Juno reminded us that 16-year-olds aren't all cut from the same bubble-gum-scented cloth. Sollett goes beyond the clever banter to craft credible stories about puppy love.

The trailer for Nick & Norah's Infinite Playlist

2. SEAN ANDERS

The Résumé: Anders, 28, has a short CV: The obscure 2005 feature Never Been Thawed—a hit at the Silver Lake Film Festival—is the lone previous entry.

The Latest: Sex Drive, a can't-get-laid comedy in which getting nookie isn't the be-all and end-all—for the characters or the filmmaker. In fact, compared with the bizarro encounter the hero's best friend (Josh Zuckerman) has with a scat fetishist, virginity looks pretty hot.

The Model: Judd Apatow, in whose comedic fraternity Anders would be the earnest pledge: He doesn't go for cheap belly laughs.

The trailer for Sex Drive

3. RIAN JOHNSON

The Résumé: Employing slick, noir-ish dialogue, the 34-year-old Southern California native made Brick, 2005's high-school whodunit that has more in common with The Maltese Falcon than with Disturbia.

The Latest: The Brothers Bloom, about a pair of grifters played by Mark Ruffalo and Adrien Brody, is a classic con story in every way—except for the mute, destructive Asian sidekick.

The Model: Wes Anderson and his quirky, talky twists on movie conventions—but without the costumery and melancholy.

The trailer for The Brothers Bloom

Courtesy of L+E Pictures

Smart high-school comedies have more to offer than camera-friendly teens. See Election, Clueless, and now Hamlet 2—in which Steve Coogan plays a talentless drama teacher who attempts to save his school's theater program with a musical sequel to Shakespeare's Oedipal tragedy. It's helped along by gifted kids and some cheeky controversy: The musical numbers (like "Rock Me Sexy Jesus") and the wildly profane script (sample direction: "The time-machine door opens, revealing Hamlet, Claudius, Gertrude, and Hillary Clinton having what appears to be group sex") spark knee-jerk protests, which ignite support from a First Amendment lawyer (Amy Poehler). But throughout all this it's the sublimely absurd Coogan—he asks a Kinko's employee, "Which color do you think works best for a controversial piece of sociopolitical agitprop theater?"—who proves that sharp adult quips can carry a high-school musical. Ruth Baron

The sing-a-long for "Rock Me Sexy Jesus"

Courtesy of Twentieth Century Fox

Got a minute? Rainn Wilson explains that he isn't just Dwight K. Shrute, he's also The Rocker—and he's coming to a theater near you in his underwear.

Q: Do people think that you and Dwight are the same person?

A: Yeah. There are a lot of geeky fans who see Dwight as their geek god. But there's also a frat-boy contingent of Dwight lovers. I was just walking past this bar in Atlanta, and I got a lot of "Dwight, yo! Dwiiiiight. Yo!" Like I will acknowledge that! You can just hear that former frat boy in their voice. They're between 28 and 33, but they still wear flip-flops to a bar, wear shell necklaces and their baseball caps backwards. But I ignore anyone, even grandmothers, that shouts out, "Hey, yo, Dwight!"

Q: What have you been up to since shooting the fifth season of The Office?

A: I've been tooling around this great nation spreading the gospel of The Rocker [out August 20], the greatest movie ever made—about a heavy-metal drummer. My character, Fish, is a drummer kicked out of his band in the eighties right before they hit it really big, like Mötley Crüe big. Then 20 years later, I'm a big fat loser and I get a second chance at my rock-star fantasy by joining my nephew's high-school band.

Q: I hear you had a high-school band in real life.

A: We were the worst garage band of all time, and our name was Collected Moss. Our 19-minute version of the Grateful Dead's "Fire on the Mountain" would be followed by the Clash's "Should I Stay or Should I Go?" Nothing about us made any sense whatsoever. I was the singer. I'll give you a taste. [Sings] See, I'm still off-key.

Q: In The Rocker promo shots, you're wearing underwear and cowboy boots. Were you cool with that?

A: Thank you for noticing. Those are heavy-metal underwear. They're leopard-print and they're fierce like a leopard. It's like they contain a leopard . . .

Q: What are you up to next?

A: I'm writing a movie. I've handed a draft in to Jason Reitman, and if all goes well we'll be shooting next year. It's about a down-and-out alcoholic ninja living in the San Fernando Valley. I'm calling it Bonzai Shadowhands. Katie Hintz

The theatrical trailer for The Rocker

Photograph courtesy of the Everett Collection

Since longing for the eighties set in around, oh, 1990, film and TV audiences have been inundated with homages to the Reagan (read: John Hughes) era. But lately, fond recollections of the days of Gingrich and Gameboys have been coming on fast. Here, a guide to which tributes deserve your attention this summer. Erica Cerulo

EIGHTIES: Son of Rambow
NINETIES: The Wackness

WINNER: The Wackness

Trailer for The Wackness

Rambow, about two prepubescent Brits, features neon-clad girls, Stallone references, and a Bowie-like exchange student. Reebok Pumps, Forrest Gump, and Zima give The Wackness an edge, but a pager-using drug dealer who's obsessed with the Notorious B.I.G. (and the spot-on hip-hop-rich soundtrack) pushes it over the top.

EIGHTIES: Knight Rider
NINETIES: Beverly Hills, 90210

WINNER: 90210

The trailer for the CW's 90210

David Hasselhoff's absence from Knight Rider was almost offset by the news that Will Arnett would be the voice of the new, improved KITT—until that development fell through. And then word came that Tori Spelling (Donna in the original 90210) hoped to return in the CW remake. See you at the Peach Pit After Dark.

EIGHTIES: Eddie Murphy
NINETIES: Mike Myers

WINNER: Myers

Mike Myers in the trailer for The Love Guru

Both are leaving the Shrek money machine this summer to star in comedies for grown-ups. Murphy's alien-love story Meet Dave promises to be painful, but Myers sticks to themes of shagging and lost mojo in The Love Guru (costarring Verne Troyer, a.k.a. Mini-Me, and Jessica Alba), which might rekindle hopes for a fourth Austin Powers.

EIGHTIES: The Lost Boys sequel
NINETIES: The X-Files sequel

WINNER:The Lost Boys

The trailer for Lost Boys: The Tribe

Just when David Duchovny has reinvented himself with Californication, the guy decides to reprise his tired role as a paranoid investigator of the paranormal. Bummer. On the other hand, seeing the coke-damaged Corey Haim still alive—let alone in a movie with Corey Feldman—is a feel-good experience that's too mind-blowing to miss.