0 out of four stars

Unrated but includes profanity, sexuality, drugs, stupidity.

Where: Lagoon.

Madonna's directorial debut is so abysmal in so many ways that we'd have to reduce the type size to get them all in. The acting is arch and self-conscious, the production values are poverty row, and even the lighting is abrasive. Now that takes a special kind of negative talent -- when was the last time you were offended by a film's lighting?

For no good reason, "Filth and Wisdom" follows the travails of several neighbors in a London apartment house. Eugene Hutz, of the gypsy-rock band Gogol Bordello, plays A.K., a Ukrainian rock vocalist with a lucrative side business as a dominant master who dresses in military drag and fox hunting regalia to humiliate grateful pervs. A.K. often speaks to the camera, assuring us he's a sensitive, literate soul. He's so nice that he runs errands for the blind poet in the flat below, Prof. Flynn (Richard E. Grant).

A.K.'s flatmates are a ballerina (Holly Watson) who takes up stripping to pay the bills and a pharmacist's cashier (Vicky McClure) who stuffs her pockets with meds. Peripheral characters are mostly described in terms of their sexual kinks, which include S&M schoolboy caning scenarios and rubbing up against empty overcoats. (We did establish that the story is set in England, didn't we?)

The script, co-written by the Material Girl, is a plotless stream of incidents meant to illustrate how these flawed souls work their way back to the light. Hutz tell us as much in a graceless monologue, explaining that scoundrels crave grace while saints desire degradation. Actually, he elucidates every notion in the film's empty little head, starting half his lines with the catchphrase, "In my country we have a saying. ... " Here's one Madonna might want to memorize: "Don't quit your day job."

★★ out of four stars

Unrated by the MPAA; profanity, nudity, gory violence.

Where: Oak Street Cinema.

When: 9:30 p.m. today-Sun.

Slightly cleverer than your run-of-the-mill slasher flick, "Midnight Movie" traps a dozen fright-film fans in a downscale theater for a legendary horror film that hasn't been seen for 40 years. When the scratchy old film-within-the-film unreels, we learn why -- the movie's masked maniac feeds on fear and exits the screen to butcher viewers in the audience. Competently written and directed by Jack Messitt, it follows the "Ten Little Indians" template, dispatching cast members and then dragging their bodies back to the black-and-white world onscreen. Despite its share of slack, stale passages and an all-too-anonymous ghoul, the film delivers 80 minutes of jokes, jolts and jumps, and the technical specs are sharp -- when Messitt gets his hands on a real budget, look out!

★★ out of four stars

Rating: PG-13, language.

Where: Parkway.

As pensive as this drama purports to be, it is surprising how often one feels frustrated by "August Evening." It is the simple story of Jaime (the great Pedro Castaneda), an undocumented Mexican immigrant, and his daughter-in-law Lupe (Veronica Loren) as they struggle to make ends meet in San Antonio. The director, Chris Eska, has no sense of space, or even time -- we're left wondering where the characters are and how much time has elapsed. Plot twists come elbowing in with the subtlety of a political robo-call on a pleasant Sunday evening. Worse, while the men are complex and fascinating, the women here are either shrews or martyrs. Despite stunning photography and some effective performances, "August Evening" is a disappointment.