Disappointed that flag burning is still protected by the Constitution? Can’t wait for the rest of the American Values Agenda to come up for votes? Seek solace in more 100-word-or-less reviews.

Sketches of Frank Gehry (2005, directed by Sydney Pollack)
Interesting movie about an interesting person. A little pretentious and self-serving, but he’s an architect, so what would you expect? The best parts of the film are the five appearances of the painter Julian Schnabel. He appears wearing a thick, white cotton robe and Rayban Wayfarers in a tightly composed head shot. In each subsequent appearance he is holding something different, a snifter of brandy, a cigarette. In his final appearance he is shot full-length, sitting cross legged in a medieval banquet chair. He IS one of his paintings–movie size! Quite a guy, that Julian.
–Lane Twitchell

Over the Edge: Death in Grand Canyon by Thomas M. Myers and Michael P. Ghiglieri (Puma Press, 2001)
Morbid? Yes. Occasionally oogy? Undoubtedly. But this compendium of all recorded deaths in Grand Canyon National Park is a wildly compelling read. Chapters focus on modes of death, including Falling, Dehydration, Suicides, Freak Accidents. You won’t believe how many people topple off the edge while trying to get the perfect photo. And “Thelma and Louise” comes in for scorn, as park personnel had to clear out several copycat cars (and drivers) the year the movie came out. Amazing survival stories are sprinkled in, and the writing is quick and light, keeping the book from becoming too depressing. Watch out for falling boulders! Don’t touch that rattlesnake! And drink plenty of water while reading.
–Lisa Parrish

Buffy the Vampire Slayer: The Chosen Collection (Twentieth Century Fox)
What was once divided is now whole: all seven seasons of Buffy! Discover or re-live this encompassing and sassy television coming-of-age story. Fragments of myth, literature, and pop culture stream through a comic nightmare world prowled by real adult monsters that lurk threateningly over our spunky superhero and her intrepid posse. Armed with hormones and magic, they fight off one apocalyptic fix after another. Characters deepen, plots evolve and themes twist with brilliant complexity (bonus: lots of sex!). Buy yourself Why Buffy Matters by Rhonda Wilcox for the super geek experience.
–Pandora Brewer

Citrus by Asobi Seksu (Friendly Fire, 2006)
Tinymixtapes declares, “If this isn’t the album you are blaring out of your car all summer long, you aren’t having enough fun.” Maybe slightly overstated, but the ever-cruel Pitchfork gave it an 8.3, which is a pretty great endorsement. (Reviews rarely rise above 8.0.) Asobi Seksu, hailing from New York, but with a Japanese singer/keyboard player, sing many songs in swirling Japanese. If you liked My Bloody Valentine and Lush, you will love this. Some call this “shoe-gazer,” but on stage, they do anything but that. Their Philly show two weeks ago was a stare-you-in-your-eyeballs sound assault.
–Farrell Fawcett

The Grass Is Always Greener by Barbara Morgenstern (Monika, 2006)
Barbara Morgenstern’s new album is quite lovely. Her melodies are often heartbreakingly melancholy, wafting above a foundation of synthetic rhythm and analog crackle. I especially like track 2, “The Operator.” Pitchfork is right, it’s reminiscent of Devo. What was really nice for me though was revisiting some of her earlier work, specifically her 2005 collaboration with Robert Lippok, Tesri. It’s a very consistent record with lots of playful synth-pop instrumental composition. Perfect for background music out on the deck on a summer night. The song “Sommer” (I don’t speak German, but I am guessing this might translate to “summer”) is feel good easy listening best listened to while grilling a steak.
–Trixie Honeycups

The Fiery Furnaces @The Henry Fonda Theater (Hollywood, 6/16)
I’ve heard nothing but raves about their live performances, so I had high hopes as a lover of FF’s challenging (albeit frustrating) conflation of pop-rock-dance-electronica-weirdness, their blend of seemingly incongruous styles, instruments, tempos, and time signatures. When they took the stage with some microphones, a guitar, a bass, and a drum kit, I was disappointed. They looked like a rock band. And sounded like one. No piano, keyboards, laptop, or hidden ipod. Their songs were mostly unrecognizable, meaning everything I love about the Furnaces had been edited out. But did I mention that they really rocked? Perhaps I’m just disappointed that I let very specific expectations dim my appreciation of an incredible rock band. Even if I don’t want them to be a rock band.
–Jeremy Zitter