Bourne Again, Dead Again.

In this week’s trailer bin: Like Frankenstein’s monster, supersleuth Jason Bourne returns once again to avenge his creation in the trailer for Paul Greengrass’ The Bourne Ultimatum (if that doesn’t work, try here); and The Wire‘s Stringer Bell (Idris Elba) tries and fails to rein in the flesheating zombies of London in this look at 28 Weeks Later, the probably unnecessary sequel to Danny Boyle’s 28 Days Later.

The Ballad of Jack and Rose.

Raise the Titanic! The doomed ship’s power couple, Kate Winslet and Leonardo di Caprio, reunite for Sam Mendes’ forthcoming Revolutionary Road. “The DreamWorks project, based on the 1961 novel by Richard Yates, revolves around a suburban couple caught between their hopes for a life of art, culture and sophistication and the everyday drudgery of boring jobs and domesticity.” (And, speaking of Titanic, I saw some of it again on TNT a few weeks ago and, while I knew Theoden King (Bernard Hill) was also the ship captain, I hadn’t realized until then that Mr. Fantastic/Horatio Hornblower, Ioan Gruffudd, played Officer Lowe.) Add that to your Kevin Bacon list.

You say you want a Revolution? You don’t.

Nothing’s gonna change my world…except maybe the bean-counters at the studio. Word is Julie Taymor is getting the Terry Gilliam treatment from Revolution studios — her forthcoming Beatlepalooza Across the Universe has been recut by studio executive Joe Roth without her knowledge, and Taymor may drop her name off the movie. Whatever Taymor put on film, I have to assume it’s more interesting than anything Roth — he of Christmas with the Kranks — could come up with.

Kiss Me Cate.

Also breaking during my west coast sojourn, the lovely Cate Blanchett will apparently star in Indy IV, I’m presuming as Dr. Jones’ love interest. Well, Blanchett definitely adds star wattage and acting chops to the ledger. But, really, doesn’t Jones have unfinished business with Marian Ravenwood? Act your age, Indy.

Rorschach Blot.

After last night, I gotta say I’d have much preferred to see a Paul Greengrass Watchmen. Still, I’ll give him this: Zack Snyder knows his audience, and has inserted a test image of Watchmen‘s Rorschach in a new Internet trailer for 300. (And, for the record once more, I’m totally on board with the commenter in that AICN talkback who suggested Simon Pegg for the part.)

Four-Color Gyllenhaals.

It‘s official: Maggie Gyllenhaal takes Katie Holmes’ place in Christopher Nolan’s The Dark Knight. And, with Tobey Maguire appearing to beg off any future webslinger installments after Spidey 3, the door is now wide open for Maggie’s brother Jake

No Short Round for Shia?

Also in fanboy casting and Spielberg news, Shia La Boeuf — confirmed by Variety only yesterday — shoots down rumors that he’s been cast as the progeny of Indiana Jones. “Would he deny it if offered though? The IESB says according to him ‘depends on what the script is about, he doesn’t want to go in as just a sidekick character’.

Sign of the Beast.

More a straightforward police procedural than the type of visually kinetic extravaganza one might expect from the director of Se7en and Fight Club, David Fincher’s Zodiac, which I saw on Friday, is a slow-moving but generally effective film. I confess to having very little interest in the story of the Zodiac killer, or in serial killer movies in general. Still, I found Zodiac to be a somber and engaging character study of the cops, journalists, and suspects caught up in the hunt for San Francisco’s most famous murderer, and a moody meditation on how, as months yield to years without a definitive answer, the long, tiring search for truth comes to haunt and drain their lives away. It may basically play like a seventies throwback Law and Order for most of its run, with occasional flourishes from The Wire, but Zodiac is still a worthwhile film, and one that marks a welcome rebound for Fincher after the relatively uninspired Panic Room. It’s good to see his sign rising once again.

After the first of many impressive establishing shots of San Francisco, set to some spooky post-psychedelic pop ditty of the era, Zodiac begins on July 4th, 1969, with what feels like both a classic urban legend and a recipe for disaster — two young people flirting and fumbling at a dark and abandoned Lover’s Lane. Only this story is true, and soon enough, the Zodiac has struck for the second time, leaving one dead and another terribly wounded in his wake. Showing a penchant for publicity that will make him a household name in the Bay Area over the next few years, the Zodiac sends both boastful and encoded message to several major newspapers. These pique the interest of — among others — a hard-drinking, hard-living writer on the cop beat (Robert Downey, Jr.), a nebbishy cartoonist with a knack for puzzles (Jake Gyllenhaal, playing the author of the book on which the film is based), and two peace officers (Mark Ruffalo, Anthony Edwards) assigned to track down this preening sociopath before he strikes again. For the next few years, we follow each of these fellows as they attempt to pin down the identity of the elusive killer: negotiating bureaucratic snafus, parsing encrypted texts, and, yes, hitting the archives like good, little researchers. But the trail of the Zodiac exacts a heavy toll, and as the Age of Aquarius fades into the Reagan era, each of these men leave the decade scarred by their quest, some irreparably. And still, somewhere out there, the Zodiac lurks…

Its opening moments notwithstanding, most of Zodiac is concerned not with nasty serial killer exploits (although there are a few, such as a jarring afternoon picnic at the lake) but the ugly mechanics of the cops and journalists’ search, with all its circumstantial theorizing and bureaucratic gear-grinding. Some of this stuff, such as the memory-holes that arise between overlapping jurisdictions of various Bay Area law enforcement bureaus, would probably seem fresher if you’ve never watched The Wire, where police mismanagement and careerism is a central staple. (That being said, likable character actors like Elias Koteas, Donal Logue, and Zach Grenier spice up these scenes considerably.) But, other facets of the hunt still resonate, such as how multiple explanations pile up for a given clue with no real way to determine the correct one. The Zodiac’s symbol…is it a cross-hair, or was it stolen from a watch company, or is it the countdown from the opening of a film reel? Each answer seems like it must be the definitive one at different times, and, for the participants in this haunted search, the shifting interpretations grow increasingly maddening. The film is kind enough to give the audience something of a sense of closure at the end, but Zodiac is most intriguing when it leaves all doors open, and lets its characters get thrown about in the bruising wind that ensues.