Music

Future Rock

The Redstone Room

Saturday, February 6, 9 p.m.

If you visit the Web site for the musical wizards of Future Rock (FutureRock.net), you'll find bassist Felix Moreno explaining that one of the great joys of his band's blend of electronics and traditional musical instruments occurs "when the audience sees me play my bass, and they have no idea what's coming out. I love that look of confusion." The next time the guys are in town, they should book themselves a gig at the Reader offices. They'd be in heaven.

EDGE OF DARKNESS

For better and/or worse, Mel Gibson hasn't exactly vanished from the public eye since his last starring role on-screen, in 2002's Signs. Yet even if, like me, you've spent an inordinate amount of time bemoaning the Crazy Mel antics - both public and directorial - of recent years, you might find it hard to resist his turn in director Martin Campbell's Edge of Darkness: Gibson's back, and, happily, he's pissed. The movie is a frequently ludicrous and borderline incoherent revenge thriller, but its leading man, busting heads and blasting weaponry, is in excellent form, lending his bereaved-dad role considerable passion and emotional urgency. Between the mid-'80s and late-'90s, no one delivered anguished-and-wrathful acting better than Gibson. Ten-plus years later, there's still no one who does.

TOOTH FAIRY

With his cartoonishly buff physique, his unwavering sincerity and geniality, and his happy willingness to play the goofball, it's easy to see why young audiences love Dwayne Johnson, aka The Artist Formerly Known as The Rock. What's less fathomable, especially considering Johnson's continually questionable taste in material, is why I still love the guy.

THE LOVELY BONES

The Lovely Bones, director Peter Jackson's long-awaited take on Alice Sebold's beloved novel, is a stupefyingly bad movie, the kind of big-screen debacle that makes you wonder if its entire creative team wasn't suffering through some hideous, collective blockage of talent all throughout filming. You can feel it going wrong in the first minutes, when a car's quick swerve results in an unconvincing and inappropriately comedic loss of a hubcap, but the shock of Jackson's endeavor is that practically nothing in it goes right. Tonally, just about every scene here feels a little bit off, and the rest feel way, way off; it's almost as if Jackson, screenwriting collaborators Fran Walsh and Philippa Boyens, and a (usually) wildly gifted cast purposely set out to make the absolute worst Lovely Bones adaptation possible.