December’s installment of “The Hobbit” trilogy, titled “An Unexpected Journey,” covers roughly the first third of the novel. It follows the titular halfling Bilbo Baggins as he embarks on an adventure to help a group of dwarves reclaim their stolen fortress of Erebor, located deep within the Lonely Mountain, from the dragon Smaug. The dwarves enlist the aid of the wizard Gandalf, who suggests that they bring along Bilbo. Jackson has added considerably to this memorable yet short story, though, and purists will grumble at the extended presence of the bumbling wizard Radagast the Brown. To please even the most hard-core fans of the original, however, enough of the film still stays true to the book, sometimes even down to Tolkien’s exact dialogue.

For an adventure story, “The Hobbit” starts out frustratingly slow, and Bilbo’s trepidation about going on a potential journey of no return, coupled with his annoyance at Gandalf for getting him into this mess, make for a relatively uneventful first half hour. Though edging on annoying, this glacial opening is clearly a byproduct of stretching the 260-page novel into about nine hours of film.  Once the journey to the Lonely Mountain starts, however, the film’s pace quickens as its timeless, crisp beauty is awakened. The long trek, filled with the sweeping vistas of Middle Earth that Jackson is famous for, is broken up with several memorably varied set-pieces and sequences. The heroes’ trip takes them through mountains and caves, plains and forests, from the Elf city of Rivendell to the subterranean kingdom of the Goblins.

These disparate and often-fantastical locations, coupled with the large variety of strange creatures that inhabit Middle Earth, make the film utterly reliant on the (albeit excellent) computer-generated imagery (CGI) effects. In fact, there were noticeable sequences where a painted background or even a real vista looked lifeless compared to the unnaturally vivid CGI. The film’s animated characters are incredibly lifelike, their motions realistic and revealing. This is not surprising, though, as Jackson is a pioneer of the “Performance Capture” technique, in which an actor’s motions and facial expressions are transferred to a computer animation. As characters like Gollum (portrayed by the Performance Capture actor Andy Serkis) are more expressive than ever, Jackson’s experience in using this unconventional filmmaking style is apparent.

All this animation doesn’t outshine the traditional acting of the film, though. Martin Freeman (of BBC’s “Sherlock” fame) excels at playing the reluctant hero Bilbo, and Richard Armitage portrays a convincingly troubled and vengeful Thorin, leader of the dwarves. Ian McKellen also does a spectacular job reprising his role as the wise but cautious Gandalf. Unfortunately, however, the 11 other dwarves in the posse do not receive enough screen time to show off much acting talent.

The film’s most unconventional aspect, however, rests not in its content but rather its presentation. Jackson shot “The Hobbit” in 3D at 48 frames per second (fps), double the industry standard, in another effort to make it seem more “real.” Most movie theaters will offer both, so those who do not mind the silky, hyper-realism of high-frame-rate (HFR) film might want to try it. Others can still see it at the traditional speed, but be warned: HFR allows for faster camera movements, and a downgrade to 24fps will make some of the faster scenes look stuttery in 3D.  Whichever format you choose to watch it in, “An Unexpected Journey” is outstanding proof of Peter Jackson’s lasting ability to make a beautifully up-to-date film out of a 75-year-old fantasy novel.

Director Peter Ramsey was given a rather weak script with a predictable plot, but he managed to make some holiday magic out of it in “Rise of the Guardians.” The simple language and jokes used throughout the movie made it easy to follow, if somewhat boring at points. However, Pine’s sarcasm and Jackman’s gruff anger were perfect ways to highlight the funny moments in the film. The rough, tattooed, Russian Santa Claus was, obviously enough, a surprise, but his character slotted in so well that by the end of the film Santa might as well have always had “naughty” and “nice” tattooed on his arms. Though there were cute jokes sprinkled throughout the film, the funniest clips were of Sandman, who is nicknamed “Sandy” by the other characters. Sandy can’t speak, instead using images made of golden sand to convey his thoughts. From picking up one of Santa’s elves to get attention to trying to explain what it means to be a Guardian, the artists used Sandy to move the plot along as well as a source of quick comedy. The plot is, at times, slow moving but is does not feel like it is being dragged through sludge. The movie is enjoyable for children audiences, but also for teens and young adults who are looking for a movie to get them in the holiday mood.

Although geared towards children, the characters of “Rise of the Guardians” struggle with questions that appear again and again in movies meant for teens or adults. Questions of identity and faith reappear frequently. The movie offers a new heart, one filled with honesty and integrity, that has been long absent from children’s movies.

With an ending reminiscent of Marc Forster’s 2004 film “Finding Neverland,” the movie inspires viewers to stand, clap, and shout, “I do believe in fairies, I do, I do!” With giant snowball fights, adorable yetis, an Australian Easter Bunny, and cute one-liners, “Rise of the Guardians” is a cute holiday film, and even the older siblings dragged along will be sure to be infected with its cheer.

Normally, a film detailing the bureaucratic processes of passing federal legislation would come across as dull. However, Spielberg is able to rework this drudgery into slowly mounting tension. In fact, it is this political maneuvering that is the predominant plot driver, which allows us an inside, if somewhat dated, look into how governmental decisions were (and are) made in our country.

The political back-and-forth not only is engaging, but also provides necessary comic relief to the grim subject matter. Some of the film’s most amusing sequences are the tactics employed by Lincoln’s “agents,” whose main task is to procure congressional votes in favor of the 13th Amendment. The three agents’ shenanigans, including blatant bribery and friendly extortion, allow us to escape from the bloody backdrop of Civil-War America. Even more amusing are the heated public and private political debates between the many key politicians in the film. One particularly vivid exchange occurs when Republican congressman Thaddeus Stevens (Tommy Lee Jones) calls George Pendleton (Peter McRobbie) a “nincompoop” during a public debate in the House Chamber.

Though the film is able to avoid monotony through its refreshing look at historical Washington politics, the film’s strength is in the acting. Clearly, the two-time Academy Award-winner Daniel Day-Lewis is uniquely talented. Day-Lewis creates a Lincoln that is much more complex and subtle than the “Honest Abe” version taught in grade school. Day-Lewis’s Lincoln is soft-spoken and tender, allowing us to catch a glimpse of the humanity behind the national icon. One of the more touching moments comes early in the film, when Lincoln lies down on the floor next to his sleeping son Tad to kiss him on the forehead. The film’s Lincoln is also exceedingly wry and willing to play the political game to his advantage. He is borderline eccentric. For example, the character tells many little parables that mean very little to anyone besides himself. In effect, Day-Lewis’s Lincoln is compassionate, politically intelligent, and a little bit insane, the goal of which is to dispel our one-dimensional image of our 16th president.

Yet Day-Lewis does bring out this version of the powerful titan-like version of Lincoln at the most appropriate times. In the uncertain days preceding the 13th Amendment vote, Lincoln delivers the line, “I am the President of the United States of America […] clothed in immense power,” to his cabinet showcasing the righteous might we have come to expect from Abraham Lincoln.

Not to be overshadowed by Day-Lewis are the acting talents of Tommy Lee Jones and Sally Field. Jones, as Congressman Thaddeus Stevens, is able to capture the commanding presence of a Congressional leader, as well as the inner conflict he feels when he has to compromise his values to pass a bill he supports. Field, as Mary Todd Lincoln, embodies her fiery energy, as well as the pain a mother and wife carries while trying to raise a family at the center of the nation’s government.

With an amazing cast and engaging plot, “Lincoln” is a promising pick come Oscar season. However, in order for the lay-person to enjoy this film, one must give it complete attention. It is only through careful attention that the film’s slow-building plot and subtly developing characters amount to any significance. To the patient viewer, “Lincoln” tells a great story about one of the greatest presidents in the history of our country.

Condensing the 1400-page plot into a few sentences, “Les Misérables” includes: Jean Valjean (Jackman), Inspector Javert (Crowe), and Fantine (Hathaway) in a triangle of law and class; Valjean and Cosette (Isabelle Allen, Amanda Seyfried) in a story of love for the unloved; a love triangle full of longing gazes between Cosette, Marius Pontmercy (Eddie Redmayne), and Éponine Thénadier (Samantha Barks); and a revolution headed by Enjolras (Aaron Tveit), the leader of a group of students willing to lay their lives on the line for their cause. Convoluted? Yes. Melodramatic? Completely. But it works.

The plot may be genius, but the film is an Oscar favorite because of the actors’ performance. There’s not a single superfluous or mediocre actor. Jackman as Valjean is a magnificent saint; in fact, from the opening scene, in which he is forced to bear the French flag like Christ and the cross, to cradling a dying Fantine in his arms, we see him do, quite literally, no wrong besides the crime he was jailed for. His eyes tell stories, and this one says, “Forgive me.” But Javert, though at first seemingly soulless, is the unexpected subject of our pity. Crowe gives him an almost hangdog look, and turns him from the villain to his true role as antagonist. Though he seems mercilessly sworn to uphold the law, Crowe gives Javert heart, albeit that of a lonely old man, and by the end of his arc it’s safe to say he has redeemed himself.

As Fantine, Hathaway gives her limited screen time her all and then some. Her solo, “I Dreamed a Dream,” is raw and emotional. She turns a number often used to show off vocal talent into an experience of despair, fear, and a complete shattering of hope. It grabs you by the collar and drags you into her world of crooks and criminals determined to sully her soul. As a woman at death’s door, she once again rends heartstrings with her breathy voice, shaky eyes, and trembling gestures—certainly not the Anne Hathaway we are used to.

The supporting cast is just as talented and just as essential to the film’s success. Redmayne is a star, playing all of his roles—lover, fighter, mourner—with aplomb, bringing smiles to the face with his romancing, respect to the heart as a revolutionary, and tears to eyes as a survivor. Marius wears his heart on his sleeve, and Redmayne does just that with wide, sunny smiles and choked sobs. Seyfried plays a beautiful ingénue, soft and sweet, and the chemistry between the two is nearly saccharine. Barks as Éponine is heartwrenching and her solo, “On My Own,” is sheer vocal talent wrapped in fine acting. Oh, how we wish she could be happy, too! And Tveit as Enjolras is all smolder, but his dark eyes and firm-set jaw tell us that he’s no one to be messed with. Here, a shout-out simply must be given to Daniel Huttlestone, who makes the street urchin Gavroche the most adorable, feisty thing on the streets of Paris.

The film is, indeed, a musical, and the songs are nothing if not strong. Still, the gap between Broadway stars who can screen-act and screen actors who can sing is evident. Jackman, Barks, and Tveit are the vocal showstoppers; it’s a hard task, acting through ones voice, and these three have clearly mastered it, though Redmayne and Hathaway put up strong performances of their own, especially in their respective solos (“Empty Chairs at Empty Tables” and “I Dreamed a Dream.” Seyfried is, at times, too soft and too trill, but it manages to work with her character. The worst offender, however, is Crowe, who often sounds like his mouth is stuffed with cotton. For a major character with two solos and numerous duets, this is a shame (In “The Confrontation, at least, he has a strong showing.) It’s one of the only blemishes on an otherwise unmarred façade. The changes made in the stage-to-screen journey are mixed, though. Numbers originally bombastic, such as “One Day More,” lose their unity due to the editing, which focuses on a single character at a time, but others, such as “Do You Hear The People Sing,” are even grander for it. Visually, the effect is striking; a camera allows for far more detail, far more vivid colors, far crisper contrast, in crowd scenes and backdrops than even the most talented set designers can create on the stage.

Although it can sound like an eighteenth century soap opera—and that’s probably because it is one—”Les Misérables” is far from it. The film deserves all eight of its Oscar nominations. It’s very different from the musical, but this time, change is most definitely a good thing.

“Life of Pi,” directed by Ang Lee and based on the acclaimed novel by Yann Martel, tells a tale of hope and spirituality through the reflections of an adult Pi (Irrfan Khan). As Pi details his wandering 227-day odyssey to a confounded Canadian novelist (Rafe Spall), what memorably come through are the peculiarity, surreality, and otherworldliness of his life.

One of Pi’s most compelling characteristics is his intense fascination with several religions. By age 15, he is a self-proclaimed Hindu, Christian, and Muslim, and cannot understand his family’s objection to his curious omni-ism as he prays, “Thank you, Vishnu, for introducing me to Christ.” To Pi, everything around him is a reflection of his deities, from the magnificent animals in his father’s zoo to the catastrophic storm that killed his family. Our middle-aged Pi even assures the writer that his story will “make you believe in God.”

Pi grows up in the placid, picturesque city of Pondicherry, South India. His family zoo is depicted as a beautiful paradise: the movie opens with funny-looking baboons, head-bobbing birds, and other wildlife strolling across the screen. But when political turmoil forces Pi’s family to sell their zoo and move to Canada, his life begins to crumble. As the Patels sail across the Pacific, with all their animals aboard, an intense storm arrives in a scene so well portrayed it could induce genuine seasickness. But the storm does more than just that, for it kills all but a few passengers. After some savage competition, there remain two passengers on board: Pi and a magnificent 450-pound Bengal tiger named Richard Parker who would certainly swallow the boy whole if given the chance.

Since our narrator is a middle-aged Pi in relatively good health, he evidently survives; the remaining, bewildering question is “how?” Among the challenges he faces are psychological breakdowns, a second storm, lack of food, and the frightening presence and territorialism of Richard Parker. But as the days become longer and hunger deeper, man and beast begin to develop a heart-warming respect, possibly even mutual love, for each other. Pi saves most of his clean drinking water for the tiger; Richard Parker shares his catch of fish with Pi. When Richard Parker falls off the boat, Pi, rather than letting him drown, helps him back aboard; Richard Parker, rather than attacking Pi for sustenance, learns to temper his territorialism and respect Pi’s boundaries. What keeps them alive, what keeps Pi from losing hope and his sanity, is their friendship. If not for Richard Parker, Pi would have the lifeboat of food and water all to himself. But he would also be alone.

Ang Lee’s use of 3D imagery lends this film another dimension of dreamlike yet palpable rapture, as seen from the crystal clear reflection of the sky on the tranquil ocean by day to the magical green glow of hundreds of jellyfish lighting up the night. But the most stunning image of the movie by far is Richard Parker, from his sparkling eyes to his rippling fur, his grace in posture to his chilling roar.

In “Life of Pi,” Pi Patel goes on a journey that is both physically and philosophically taxing. Forced to do nothing but wait for fate’s hand to favor him, he can only ponder the world. For audience watching by his side, the film creates a similar aura of contemplation. With its inspirational story, emotive relationships, and transfixing images, “Life of Pi” enters the soul and enlightens the mind, raising questions about the nature of reality and faith both inside and especially outside of the film.

Some might think that this comes as good news to Star Wars enthusiasts. However, most fans are wary of the announced continuation. First, here’s a bit of history: back in the 1970s, George Lucas’s film and television production company, Lucasfilm Limited, was still relatively new, having been founded by Lucas in 1971. The first film in the Star Wars series, now titled “Star Wars: Episode IV: A New Hope,” was released on May 25, 1977. It was a smash, grossing over $700 million worldwide and nominated for ten Academy Awards. It’s safe to say that nearly everyone has seen at least one of the eventual six Star Wars films, and if not, they certainly recognize the name.

The Walt Disney Company was founded in 1923 by Walt and Roy Disney. Over the course of nearly 80 years, it has become famous as a pioneer in animation with films like “Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs” and “The Lion King.” Disney acquired Pixar Animation Studios, formerly part of Lucasfilm, in 2006 and purchased Marvel Entertainment in 2009. Continuing this trend, Disney announced on October 30, 2012 that it had acquired Lucasfilm for $4.05 billion. Furthermore, the company announced its plans to revive the Star Wars franchise with a new trilogy of films with a potential 2015 release date.

Some of my earliest memories are of Lucas and Disney films like “Return of the Jedi” and “The Lion King.” When I heard the news, however, I was far more skeptical than excited. Years ago, when I saw what was once the last film in the series (chronologically third) “Revenge of the Sith,” I believed that it truly was the final chapter in the story. After all, it had tied the events of the original films and the three prequels together with little room for expansion. However, Disney’s decision to not base the new films on existing material further limits the possibilities. Creating entirely new stories means that Disney could contradict the original films’ continuity and could even ruin the series as a whole if they step too far. In addition, the company will be under a large amount of pressure from fans left unsatisfied by the three prequels. Either way, the Star Wars legacy is in jeopardy.

To be fair, however, I wasn’t very happy when Disney purchased Marvel in 2009, either. The news spawned images of hybrid Marvel-Disney characters that I found to be truly ridiculous concepts. But Disney has mostly stayed out of Marvel’s affairs, keeping its characters, series, and franchises mostly untouched. For example, though “The Avengers,” released earlier this year, was clearly intended for a wide age range, it still came off as more serious than many other Disney films and, above all else, was an example of a classic superhero film.

Hopefully, as it has done with Marvel’s properties, Disney will, for the most part, keep out of Lucasfilm’s projects, offering little to no creative input. To me, the Star Wars films should be handled seriously, and I’m unsure if the family-friendly Disney style will fit. With Academy Award-winning writer Michael Arndt confirmed to be writing “Star Wars: Episode VII,” it’s possible that there is still hope for the future of Star Wars, but only time will tell whether the upcoming trilogy will be a new hope for the saga or the start of its journey towards the dark side.

The film’s premise is a cross-country trip Nyks takes in an attempt to get to the heart of what divides us. The data are, at times, shocking. The film is filled with clips of people of different political stripes engaging in verbal fistfights, shouting words so outrageous and hateful at each other that it’s uncertain whether we should be laughing or crying.

The film boasts an impressive cast. Featuring some of the biggest names in the American political scene, it includes Noam Chomsky, Amy Goodman, Nicholas Kristof, Tucker Carlson, Al Franken, and Chuck Hagel, among others. The choice of interviewees provides not only a wealth of information, but also a range of views across the political spectrum that aided the film’s impartiality in exploring America’s political makeup.

One segment of the film is devoted to the history of division, arguing that the political divisions in this country weren’t always so severe. This section suffers from what seems to be a convenient downplaying of the dirty political discourse and mudslinging in our nation’s early years (when Thomas Jefferson ran in 1800, one newspaper claimed that, under his administration, “Murder, robbery, rape, adultery, and incest will be taught openly and practiced”). The history is also presented with uncanny visuals that distracted from, rather than illuminated, the issue.

However, the segment contains one of the film’s most powerful moments. In discussing the way debates have become consumed by rhetoric and candidates’ competing for likeability instead of an ideological exchange, the film features a clip from the 1960 presidential debate between Kennedy and Nixon. During a shot of Nixon as he stares thoughtfully into space, on air, and ponders a question he has just been asked, a voiceover says, “Say whatever you want about Nixon, but he was the last candidate to have ever thought about a question in a debate.”

The clear structure and smooth pacing of “Split” make it understandable to the average viewer. It’s highly informative but doesn’t get too bogged down by details to the point of confusing or boring the viewer. It’s unlikely that politicians in Washington and divisive political commentators will see this film and be more willing to reach across the aisle, but at least “Split” lucidly and fairly gives the issue the attention it deserves.

The film centers on Gordon Goose (Dan Gilroy), Mother Goose’s son, who has just returned to Rhymeland from a year at Aesop’s Academy. He’s a self-proclaimed “normal” who wishes his family didn’t live in Rhymeland, a place populated by Rhymies—characters created by Mother Goose (Jean Stapleton). Gordon quickly joins Little Bo Peep (Shelley Duval) on her quest to find her missing sheep and his missing mother before all the Rhymies disappear. Along their journey, they meet a wide range of characters: Itsy the Fly (Ben Vereen), Mary (Cydni Lauper) and her lamb, Lou (Woody Harrelson), Peter Piper (Harry Anderson), and even Little Miss Muffet (Pia Zadora). Though all of these minor nursery rhyme stars are onscreen for mere minutes, they each bring their character to life in a kooky fashion—Itsy the Fly, for example, is a fantastic dancer with a crush on Little Miss Muffet.

In a movie stuffed to the gills with exaggerated acting and over-the-top costumes, Gilroy’s acting is superbly ironic; Gordon is a caricature of normalcy. His cynicism and frank dialogue sets him apart from typical protagonists of children’s movies—even though he, exaggeratedly enough, enjoys mouthing “weird” behind Mother Goose’s back. And for older viewers, it’s refreshing.  Gordon’s louder demeanor pairs well with the adorable, quirky, soft-spoken Little Bo Peep, and this balance of his skepticism and her confidence in her fellow Rhymies brings out the duo’s dynamics, which are a pleasure to watch.

For a rock-and-roll movie, “Mother Goose Rock ‘n’ Rhyme” contains only five songs, a pity considering how many singers are in it. A standout was “Party With the King,” performed by Old King Cole (Little Richard) in a zany checkerboard room. But the lack of music is overshadowed by all the color: polka-dotted, striped, and even webbed costumes, as well as a background of blurred blue and white, with colorful houses popping out. The cartoonish color scheme and outlandish live-action renew these old nursery tales, though many have been twisted a bit—Mary’s little lamb, Lou, is actually a six-foot-tall sheep with an ever-present cigar.

“Mother Goose Rock ‘n’ Rhyme” is a perfect comedy for those who want to reminisce about “the good ol’ days.” It can entertain some viewers and terrify others in the way only children’s movies can. (In a particularly strange scene, the movie cuts to a slightly terrifying rock band and feather-tickler “torture” scene.) Put on some Hammer pants, get a pack of Jiffy Pop, and slip in the “Mother Goose” VHS for a weird (and hilarious) trip back to the ‘90s.

“Chasing Ice” is a new Sundance award-winning documentary directed and produced by Stuyvesant alumnus Jeff Orlowski (‘02). During his time at Stuyvesant, Jeff Orlowski was the editor-in-chief of The Spectator. With his staff, he produced the 9/11 issue of The Spectator, which was mass-published and underwritten by the New York Times. He went on to study at Stanford University, where he pursued photography and filmmaking.

For the last five years, Orlowski has worked with National Geographic photographer James Balog on a documentary about Balog’s quest to convince the country of climate change with unequivocal evidence: time-lapse photography of melting glaciers in the Arctic.

The documentary’s message itself is not shocking. We’ve grown up in a period during which it’s clear that global climate change is a real threat to our world’s future. To the educated viewer, the film serves not only as proof of global warming, but also as a frightening testament to its severity. Balog convinces with facts and lucid landscapes that these changes are not trivial, not seasonal, but endemic of a climate crisis.

However, there are still politicians and people all over the country today who are debating its validity, calling it a hoax or an inconsequential problem easily fixed by future generations. They don’t believe the facts. Well, if there’s any film to convince the skeptics, “Chasing Ice” will most certainly do the job.

But what makes the film truly stand out as not just another “Inconvenient Truth” is Orlowski’s clever weaving of narrative into an otherwise factually stimulating film. The film focuses on Balog’s photography, the journey he took to capture the images, and the challenges he faced as a photographer, environmental activist, and middle-aged father. The emotional appeal comes not only from the fantastic shots of the endangered and barren arctic terrain, but also from the portrayal of the pain and hard work Balog goes through to realize his project.

Balog and his team begin the project, titled the Extreme Ice Survey (EIS), as the first photographers there set up permanent camera spots meant to capture climate change in the coldest areas of the world. They program time-lapse cameras that can survive extreme weather conditions and trek to the farthest and coldest reaches in Iceland, Greenland, and Canada. They are dramatically depicted as freezing and red-cheeked as they climb mountains and push through jagged rocks to fasten the cameras in a safe location.

Right at the beginning of this journey, the significance of visual climate-change evidence becomes firmly clear; for the first time, in a terrifying process of nature called “calving,” the collapse of an entire mass of glacier shooting into the ocean is caught on film.

Though Balog faces many hardships throughout the film, his determination is amplified by the inspiration he receives from his wife and two daughters, who live far from his workplace but support him on his yearly expeditions and adventures. His team members, assistant Adam LeWinter, videographer Orlowski, and Icelandic scientist Svavar Jonatansson, all huddle under tiny bright red tents to talk about the low points and struggles, like when the first round of cameras all died within weeks and were finally replaced many months later. Orlowski later recounted his first struggles during his first trip to Iceland in a New York Times interview. “I was totally unprepared. I didn’t have the right shell pants. I was freezing the entire time and in way over my head,” Orlowski said.

Balog, who is recovering from knee surgery, endangers his health by scaling melting glacial canyons and hiking a terrain of jagged ice. His doctors advise him to stop his expeditions, but that only pushes him further to get the shots he needs. His teammates even joke that Balog keeps getting knee surgery not to fix the knee, but to have the opportunity to break it again. But finally, after years of trial and error, temperature scares, wild blizzards, broken cameras, massive calvings, and doubts of hope, Balog’s team gets the shots they need to tell the story of global climate change in a truly universal way.

“Chasing Ice” is a film to be lauded not only for its artistic and dramatic value, but also for its scientific value. Orlowski said that after showing the film to a high school in Salt Lake City, Utah, the majority of students said their views towards climate change switched completely. That kind of power to get audiences more aware of environmental risks is truly phenomenal and should be utilized to have a larger impact on global awareness and climate change. However, it seems that the biggest failure of the film was not procuring a wide-enough release to convey the seriousness of its message. Playing in a few independent theaters in Manhattan for a week and then moving from city to city, the film lacks the resources to garner a wide enough audience to meet its scope.

Hopefully, Orlowski’s team will be more strategic in spreading the film to bigger audiences. Some of his efforts, like inviting Stuyvesant students and environmental classes to view the film, are definitely a step in the right direction. The melting of ice may not mean much to the current generation, but its effects will be felt worldwide in generations to come.

Toward the end of the film, Balog looks out with serious eyes toward the white abyss of ice and then stares back into the camera thoughtfully, holding a memory card from one of his cameras. “This is the memory of the landscape. That landscape is gone. It may never be seen again in the history of civilization,” he says, clutching the memory stick. “It’s stored, right here.”

At the festival, there was one clear contender most likely to catch a lucky break with American audiences, and it did not let us down: “Amour” retains its presence as a threat to Hollywood’s best awards season. Austrian director Michael Haneke is back after his last award winner, “The White Ribbon,” and this time he sets his unflinchingly bleak sights on love and death. Following the relationship between an old married couple, as the wife suffers a stroke and moves ever closer to death, this is Haneke’s most difficult and most accessible film yet. As a filmmaker, he always attempts to raise more questions than he answers, and in “Amour,” he creates a haunting piece of cinema that will leave your mind grappling for days.

Another filmmaker riding high on festival buzz and unconcerned with leaving his audience content, Leos Carax presented his first film in 13 years: “Holy Motors.” Carax’s film is a pure cinematic treat, a piece of filmmaking so in tune with the medium that it almost defies description. The film follows M. Oscar (Denis Lavant) as he limos around Paris, taking on different “assignments,” each of which involves his putting on a disguise and acting out a role. Over one day he transforms himself into a bag-lady, sewer-leprechaun, accordionist, and motion-capture artist, among others, each assignment completely unexplained and unrelated to the last. Carax presents a loose-running commentary on the nature of film through the shifting genres in which Lavant finds himself, but the movie is better interpreted as beyond language.

Carax’s film was not the only one with a reflective streak, as films about film were hardly a rarity at the festival; veteran filmmaker Alain Resnais returned with “You Ain’t Seen Nothing Yet,” a muddled attempt to explore the Orpheus myth through actors watching a film about it and eventually recreating it themselves, which ultimately felt flat and dull. The Taviani brothers blur the lines between reality, theater, and film in their quasi-documentary “Caesar Must Die,” which involves prisoners playing themselves in a story about a maximum-security prison’s production of Shakespeare’s “Julius Caesar.” The inmates soon relate to the play, and the distinction between which words are Shakespeare’s, the Tavianis’, or the prisoners’ grows murkier in an exciting examination of the effects of art. Oliver Assayas returns to the revolutionary attitudes of the late ‘60s from his last film “Carlos” and “Something in the Air,” this time telling a breathtakingly fresh coming-of-age story of an aspiring filmmaker wandering through a dissenting Europe.

Hollywood was also in attendance, using the festival’s respect and attention as a launching pad for some of this season’s biggest films. Steven Spielberg’s “Lincoln” premiered under the guise of a secret screening, and it marveled audiences with a well-crafted, if a bit stale, biopic of the civil-war president, which seeks to perfect the historical melodrama but fails to offer much originality. Daniel Day-Lewis is perfect as the president, leading a huge cast of big names, including the great Tommy Lee Jones as Thaddeus Stevens as he helps Lincoln pass the 13th amendment. Also in the presidential biopic genre was “Hyde Park on Hudson,” a look into the life of F.D.R. (Bill Murray) during a visit from King George VI. This one took a more humorous approach, but also failed to provide anything different. Unlike “Lincoln,” it wasn’t all that engaging.

Though we live during an age of digitization in which the rarest and most obscure of films are a click away, the New York Film Festival is still going strong in its 50th incarnation and doesn’t seem to be slowing down anytime soon. Going to the festival isn’t just about seeing some pretentious artsy movie; it’s about witnessing the future of film with an audience that truly cares about where the medium is headed. Beneath all the abstract films and their thought-provoking narratives, the film festival is, at heart, a love letter to the pleasure of watching movies.