Boy A., Pace University, 5 p.m.
Boy A. is about Jack Burridge, recently released from a British prison after serving a 14-year sentence for a crime he committed as a child. From director John Crowley, also known in the theater world (he was nominated for a Tony for directing Martin McDonagh’s The Pillowman). Oooh, and oh also! According to the notes on the film provided by the festival, “this story also sheds light on the vast difference between the American and British criminal justice systems”—we’re guessing the British jails are much more polite. Lots of people have buzzed around on this one, and Harvey Weinstein’s company is releasing it so take from that what you want.
THERE’S NOTHING LIKE A DANE
Worlds Apart, Village Cinema East, 5:30 p.m.
Is Danish film where it’s at these days? In 2006 we had Susanne Bier’s excellent After the Wedding (she went on to do the stinker Things We Lost in the Fire, but we don’t blame her really for that one). At this past Sundance there was the excellent Just Another Love Story (which so far is being released here around … let me check my calendar … never), and now at Tribeca there’s Worlds Apart. Making its North American premiere this evening, this film gets into the murky waters of Jehovah Witnesses, following a devout 17-year-old who falls in love with a nonbeliever. Based on a true story! Expect lots of men named Niels.
The Caller, Tishman Auditorium, 5:30 p.m.
If you’re after a grown-up film, this might be the one for you. The Caller is a sort-of old-fashioned thriller, starring Frank Langella and Elliott Gould (!). There are all sorts of twists and turns that don’t actually matter with this one; it’s about watching these two actors work.
Bart Got a Room, AMC 19th, 6 p.m.
What’s a film festival without William H. Macy? In this comedy, Mr. Macy and Curb Your Enthusiasm’s Cheryl Hines play parents to an awkward teen looking to score on prom night. Set in Florida, and sure to solidify the lawn-flamingo-state’s impeccable reputation.
Redbelt, BMCC Tribeca PAC, 6:30 p.m.
Expect the smarty-pants New York celebrity types to show up for this premiere of David Mamet’s latest, Redbelt. The film is set in L.A., and follows Mike Terry (Chiwetel Ejiofor, whom every director seems to adore), a Jiu-Jitsu teacher trying to live honorably without getting mixed up in the prizefighting circuit. But, after a late-night accident, fate sets things into motion. … Also stars Emily Mortimer, Tim Allen, and Alice Braga.
BEST BET FOR A DEAL
From Within, AMC 19th Street, 9 p.m.
Watch for all the buyers to be sitting in the back row of the theater for this one tonight. From Within is one of those titles that might just get a distribution deal out of the festival. Longtime cinematographer Phedon Papamichael (Sideways, Walk the Line) makes his directorial debut with this supernatural thriller. The cast includes Rumer Willis (Demi and Bruce’s little one, all grown up), Elizabeth Rice from Mad Men, Thomas Dekker (Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles) and Adam Goldberg from … well, everything you know him from. Also! Keep an eye out for America’s Next Top Model contestant Amanda Babin (she was one of those super-skinny twins).
DOOM YOURSELF TO REPEAT THE ’90s!
Squeezebox!, Tishman Auditorium, 9 p.m.
Plumb the distant memories of your recent past with this documentary about party promoter Michael Schmidt. He’s the one who came up with the brilliant idea of having drag queens move from lip-synching to singing rock ‘n’ roll. And thus, Squeezebox! was born to Don Hill’s, the legendary Spring Street venue, and became a magnet for all types of celebrities like John Waters, Drew Barrymore, and Deborah Harry, and an office for John Cameron Mitchell and Stephen Trask, who worked on Hedwig and the Angry Inch there. And guess what ruined it? Here’s a hint: rhymes with Boo-liani. Not for nothing, but the party for this one tonight has the potential to be incredibly great (with Lady Bunny, Jayne County, Debbie Harry, Justin ‘Kiki’ Bond and John Waters all due to attend) unless tons of wankers storm the door and it starts to just become clear that this town is all MisShapes and no more Velvet Mafia (R.I.P., Dean Johnson).