I START THIS COLUMN WITH the handicap, I guess, of a pox on me from all avid Judith Cristers. But I’m sure if Ms. Crist knew how much I need the work she would understand and wish me reasonably well. I convinced the editors to recruit a critic born on Texas soil, steeped in our rich myths and schooled in our narrow prejudices, suggesting that these credentials would surely cause faithful subscribers to overlook a few bum steers and occasional hysterical overstatements. Reviewers, alas, are not infallible.
I must warn that there seldom will be one of those perceptive catch-all introductions telling what this month’s offering of new films means to the world at large. The Waring Blender mentality required to homogenize random smatterings of observations and