The Dancer Upstairs has all the trappings of a mediocre art film: a poster involving lush red cloth and a woman's back; a director who already has a movie name; a piano-backed trailer limned with limber limbs.

Nevertheless it turns out to be a rather fascinating film about a Latin American dictatorship and the whatnot that goes on underneath, accompanied by no sex at all. Some weak dialogue and piss-poor (career-destroying?) acting is outmanoeuvred by a deft plot, some interesting political dynamics, and a couple of great shots. This uninformed author can't say whether it's a rehash of other Latin-American-dictatorship movies, but rehash or not, it's boldly political without being jingoistic or naively revolutionary.

Those of you who live in middle-class security and have recently recalled the reality of terrorism or the threat of martial law (anyone out there fit that description?) will find it an especially relevant meditation/action-flick. If that doesn't lure you in, consider the introduction of a delicious (rare?) recording of the masterful, the magical, the one and only: Nina Simone. If that voice is not a parable of terrorism and security in itself, then god save vocal music.