(Oct. 2 –5 at Tuttleman Learning Center, Temple University Main Campus, Rm. 103, Oct. 6-8 at Prince Music Theater, 1412 Chestnut St., 1-800-499-UFVA or www.temple.edu/nextframe.)

Considering what dregs Hollywood’s old have foisted on us lo these last nine months, it’s about time to give some new blood a chance to shine. That’s where NextFrame comes in. In its eighth year, the Temple-originated travelling film festival offers a chance to check out student filmmakers from all over the world. Screened for its first three days on the Temple campus, then moving to the Prince over the weekend, the expanded festival delivers up to four hours of films daily for a measly $5. Friday, billed as "Meet the Filmmakers" night, kicks off at 5:30, and offers such delights as the warped Tongues and Taxis, by RISD’s Michael Overbeck, in which a high-strung man and his unusually talented cat find themselves adrift in a bizarre metropolis where taxis fire laser beams and severed tongues come to life and grow to Godzilla-like proportions. What does it all mean? Not a bloody clue. Can Overbeck explain it? You’ll have to go to find out. (Philly native Shanti Thakur will also be present to show her 7 Hours to Burn.)

As always, some of the best student work is in animation, where the lack of budget isn’t such a hindrance, and Sunday’s programs are particularly strong in that regard. Especially so is the second program, starting at 4:15, which includes the digital fairy tale The Yellow Umbrella. It’s stronger on imagery than narrative, but its sweeping Blade Runner-ish visuals are awfully impressive.

Those are just recommendations, though. Given that its entrants have almost no track record, part of the NextFrame experience is showing up blind and finding out what you’re in for as you go.

P.O.V: Live Free or Die

Closing out P.O.V.’s regular season, Live Free or Die takes on the story of Bedford, NH, physician Wayne Goldner, an OB/GYN who finds himself at the center of a number of controversies, all having to do with the fact that Goldner continues to perform abortions even as a small but vocal minority makes it ever more difficult for him to do so. In addition to defending abortion rights in general, Goldner ends up a staunch opponent of a plan to merge two local hospitals; though floated in the name of financial efficiency, the fact that one hospital is Catholic will, he says, have a chilling effect on women’s health issues. (He’s proved right when, after the merger goes through, one woman in the midst of a miscarriage is forced to take a taxi 40 miles to the next-nearest hospital in order to terminate her pregnancy.) Then, after a doctor is shot dead by a "pro-life" fanatic, Goldner is barred from teaching sex ed classes at the local high school, allegedly because he (and not, say, people with guns) poses a threat to the children’s physical safety. Though Live Free does a capable job of presenting the issues, it gives us few insights into Goldner’s personality other than that he’s tenacious and principled, which ably contributes to the portrait of him as a freedom fighter but does little to help us understand who he really is. In particular, the few scenes which show him confronting locals whose support for him has waned show a self-righteous, even self-martyring side which could have used a lot more exploring. Saints may be noble, but they’re not particularly interesting, and Live Free or Die would have worked better had it spent more time examining Goldner’s feet of clay.

Good Morning

Yasujiro Ozu’s not exactly known for his free-swinging side, but this 1959 film shows an unexpectedly playful side of the Japanese formalist. Shot in bright, candy colors, Good Morning is a playful satire which takes aim at the Westernization of Japan, turning a cluster of traditionally-styled houses into a sitcom set where neighbors pop over with no warning and every problem is solved in a blink of an eye. The greatest conflict comes from two children who are infuriated by their parents’ refusal to buy them a television, and so go on a silence strike, refusing to speak until they’re able to watch sumo wrestling and besoboru in their own home. Those used to Ozu’s normal seriousness may be a little shocked by the prevalence of fart jokes, but it’s all in good fun.

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