I recently saw "Disappearances" at a private screening at my college. Jay Craven was there to offer some insights into the film and to prepare us for it. It was a small audience, mostly college students and teachers, the latter apparently being the only ones who "got" the movie.

Jay Craven's work is famous for its breathtaking visuals and ambiance, courtesy of the still relatively undeveloped Northeast Kingdom of Vermont (where I live) - and his latest film doesn't disappoint in this respect. What's disappointing about Disappearances is that it unwisely shifts its mood from that of the cold, hard realism of Vermont circa 1930s, and as the movie progresses, becomes increasingly focused on the "magical realism" that is tied to the back story behind its characters. While such an approach might have worked in the book on which the film is based, it leaves the audience puzzled and somewhat removed from the film.

There are elements of the film that do indeed shine, demonstrating to the uninitiated how Jay Craven manages to attract big names to his films with such limited resources (Kris Kristofferson is the most well-known actor in this particular film). The dialogue is clever and well-written, and there are quite a few moments, mostly in the first half of the film, where you'll be pleasantly surprised by Craven's ability to tell a story and keep a plot moving seamlessly.

In fact, had the entire film stayed true to the theme shown in the beginning of the film - harsh and unforgiving realism - Disappearances might have been remembered as one of Craven's better films. Unfortunately, it tries to do more with its script than the film can manage without overwhelming the viewer, and the ending seems rushed and somewhat terse. Disappearances might be the sort of film that improves with multiple viewings, but only a dedicated viewer will be able (or willing) to keep up with its inconsistent tone and pace and to find the deeper meanings that Craven hoped would be the driving force behind the film.

Like the previous poster, I am from northern Vermont, and I was inclined to like this film. However, not since "Red Zone Cuba" have I seen such a confusing plot. The things the people sent to bootleg make no sense. Two of the gang paddle across the border send a second party across in a car. Uhm, why? Then they meet two others, and drive up at night in to the bad guy's hideout in a luxury Packard. --Wouldn't just two people in a flatbed truck make more sense? Then, parked outside the garage that holds the targeted hooch, the four fall asleep! When they waken in the morning and and start hauling the whiskey out, of course they're spotted and shot at, losing some of their precious cargo in the process. Then two of the smugglers put the whiskey in a boat and float it over the border. Again, why? I am told by someone whose great uncle really did smuggle in the area, all one needed was to drive a vehicle that could outrun than the U.S. Canada Border Patrol, which back then had a fraction of the resources it has now.

And don't get me started on the last half hour, which made no sense whatsoever.

The only good thing I can say about the film is that Kris Kristopherson has actually grown some charisma with the years.

This well-meant film falls just a bit short, and unfortunately in too many areas.

The scenery is gorgeous, with vistas of north-central Vermont providing the setting for this mid-century tale. Quebec Bill endeavors to go back to his whiskey-running past in order to save his farm.

Going back and forth between scenes of magical realism and straight-forward action, this film rarely hits its stride.

Kris Kristofferson as Quebec Bill seems pretty stilted, or else it's his lines; or else his cross of Yankee and Quebecois accents. Anyway, he just comes off as a low-key blow-hard. His dialogs with Gary Farmer's Coville character do sparkle, though. William Sanderson's Rat Kinneson is solid. Charlie McDermott shows some real potential as young Wild Bill; but his part's not large enough to carry a scene and he never steals one. Luis Guzman shows up on Lake Memphramagog (with a fine stand-in performance by Lake Willoughby) as a monk with a boys'n'the hood accent: who knows? And then there's Bujold's Cordelia: an oracle like her namesake, she channels Yoda as she intones lines like "You will marry a Quebec woman!"?!? Just too weird and nowhere near enigmatic enough.

The end gets really choppy. Again a bad mix of magical realism and the concrete. And Yoda never provides an answer we can understand.