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Chiwetel Ejiofor in “Redbelt.”

Rating: 61 

“Redbelt” comes on like the spawn of “Bloodsport” and “The Spanish Prisoner,” a martial arts film with an elaborate scam festering at its center. Because it is written and directed by David Mamet, “Redbelt” plays like it has one foot in the ring and the other in “The Actor’s Studio.” But on its own strange terms, it works.

Chiwetel Ejiofor plays Mike Terry, a black belt in Brazilian jujitsu who turned his back on competition to teach others the subtle science of fighting. Mike lives by an honor code, and despite the lure of the increasingly lucrative world of mixed martial arts, he teaches at his small academy while financial hardship strains his marriage to Sondra (Alice Braga), who comes from a family of jujitsu masters.

But just when Mike could rise above his money troubles, a series of events involving an emotionally disturbed lawyer (Emily Mortimer), action movie star Chet Frank (an unusually good Tim Allen), and Mike’s best student (Max Martini) lays him low. It’s an ingenious grift, and the details should be savored, not shared — the kind of dirty pool at which Mamet excels.

So, “Redbelt” resides in the overlapping area of a Mamet Venn diagram. The writer knows his mixed martial arts, and he knows his con games — former Ultimate Fighting Champion Randy Couture and Mamet regulars Ricky Jay and Joe Mantegna are all in the mix here. Ejiofor, in particular, is great at both the physicality of the fight and the rhythms of Mamet-ish speech.

Toward the end, as Mike must make an inevitable choice between integrity and survival, “Redbelt” feels more like a Van Damme sweat-flinger than the work of a great dramatist. But in a completely unbidden but appreciated move, Mamet proves he is the one writer who can bridge the divide between sub-“Rocky” fight movies and the stuff that wins Pulitzers.

Cameron Diaz and Ashton Kutcher go for the highbrow in “Vegas.” 

Rating: 34 

Someone needs to burn this flowchart: Two mismatched and obnoxious people meet cute/drunk, are forced by a cranky judge to cohabitate, and then miraculous things happen in which they reveal unforeseen personality depths and fall in love. “What Happens in Vegas” is what happens when deeply cynical people get too familiar with that flowchart and make dull romantic comedies.

Jack Fuller (Ashton Kutcher) is a man-child who gets fired by his father (Treat Williams) and skulks off to Las Vegas with his best friend and attorney, Hater (Rob Corddry). Yes, Hater. There are a lot of zany names such as that in Dana Fox’s script, not limited to Judge Whopper, Dave the Bear, Richard Banger and Dr. Twitchell.

While in Vegas, Jack meets Joy (Cameron Diaz), who just endured an embarrassing breakup and is prowling casinos with her gal pal, Tipper (Lake Bell). After a night of commiserating and heavy boozing, Jack and Joy wake up together with wedding rings. Then a casino windfall means there’s a fortune at stake for the unhappily married couple. That’s when Judge Whopper (Dennis Miller) sentences these twits to six months of marriage counseling to teach them a lesson, and if either Jack or Joy fails to live a faithful and committed married life, they forfeit the cash.

The middle third of “What Happens in Vegas” is a series of dirty tricks that plays like a less venal version of “The Break-Up.” But then comes the inevitable softening, and their true feelings rise to the surface, and the sky opens up and celestial choirs sing.

Diaz and Kutcher lack the chemistry to make “Vegas” even a minor jackpot. They are just cashing checks in a frustratingly lame comedy full of unfunny jokes and stock-in-trade plot twists. The only big laugh comes courtesy of a bonus clip during the closing credits, making “What Happens in Vegas” hardly worth the trip.

Probably the best song from Tunng’s latest, Good Arrows, “Bullets” could pass for Elbow: a canny combo platter of Beatles and Peter Gabriel. And the video is packed to overflowing with classic Gabrielisms.

Courtesy: Pitchfork.tv

1. Sambassadeur, “New Moon.” Ah, Swedes and their twee. The opening track from Sambassadeur’s self-titled debut is everything you could desire if Belle & Sebastian is your alpha and omega.

2. Bebel Gilberto, “Tanto Tempo.”

3. Kanye West, “Addiction.”

4. Dr. Dre, “Let Me Ride.” I spent at least a couple of years in the early ’90s without buying The Chronic (the disc, fool), and only hearing the “Mothership Connection”-fueled “Let Me Ride” in its uncensored form. That Dre is nasty, baby. 

5. Lavender Diamond, “Here Comes One.”

6. The Seeds, “Mr. Farmer.”

7. Phoenix, “If I Ever Feel Better.”

8. Voxtrot, “Soft and Warm.”

9. Khan, “Favor After Favor.”

10. The Brunettes, “Her Hairgami Set.” Here is a strong argument for being on an indie: The Brunettes were able to do a quirky, Spike Jonze-style marionette-themed video for “Her Hairgami Set” without some A&R guy rejecting it in favor of a video showcasing the arresting cuteness of Heather Mansfield. Here is a strong argument against being on an indie: The Brunettes were able to do a quirky, Spike Jonze-style marionette-themed video …

Steven Spielberg, second from left, with people he likes.

Slate’s Kim Masters has a great story on the rift between Steven Spielberg/DreamWorks SKG and Paramount on the eve of “Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull.” It seems the Paramount suits were only allowed to see the film two days ago.

Colbie Caillat 

Hear cutting-edge underground hip-hop with New Orleans DJ Quickie Mart, along with Mister Green, Haps and Jabee at the Conservatory, 8911 N Western. Also, B and Dylan hold their Dance Night at Opolis, 113 Crawford in Norman, and Banana Seat, perhaps the only local cover band that has proved it can do justice to Steely Dan’s Aja in its entirety — yes, that’s a throwdown, and if it becomes a bone of contention, I’ll happily sit through a battle on this issue — plays Red Rock Canyon Grill at Eastwharf.

And in Tulsa, Colbie Caillat coos “Coco” at Cain’s, 423 N Main.

“The Office” 

I haven’t really discussed this yet, although my qualms with post-strike “The Office” are clear, but are we hurtling toward a “Very Special Episode” regarding Ryan (B.J. Novak)? The Dunder Mifflin Infinity brain trust seemed to be frying on MDMA last week during the New York club crawl, and this show doesn’t need this kind of “Blossom”-style Tartikoffian/Littlefieldian limburger. But on tonight’s episode (8 p.m. NBC), Michael (Steve Carell) learns that his bowl-cut-haired nephew is caving into peer pressure in middle school – I mean, he mans a job fair booth to find a new intern and/or continue his quest for an office catalog model-quality girlfriend.

Also, “30 Rock” (8:30 p.m. NBC) hits an early season finale with Jack Donaghy (Alec Baldwin) going to work at the White House, hating the job and angling to get fired/”spend more time with family.”

On “Lost” (9 p.m. ABC), we finally get back to Jacob’s cabin, and while there was much speculation that Jacob is Kris Kristofferson based on the observations of obsessive TiVo slo-mo enthusiasts, we’ll either find out tonight, or we won’t. “Lost” fans get used to being fed can after can of red herring.

Two days ago, I received my commemorative reissue of Mudhoney’s Superfuzz Bigmuff (it was named after effects pedals — stop that adolescent chortling), which is just part of a deluge of commemoration for the 20th anniversary of Sub Pop Records. The label throws itself a three-day party July 11-13 in Redmond, Wash. The first night is an all-comedy lineup featuring Patton Oswalt, Todd Barry and Eugene Mirman (and “special guests,” which probably means David Cross and/or second-day penultimate act Flight of the Conchords). And while Mudhoney won’t be playing the festival, Green River will be, which is considerably more superfuzzy and bigmuffy.

Of course, as a companion piece to the Mudhoney re-release, Sub Pop needs to reissue the first seven-inch from their old singles club, Nirvana’s “Love Buzz/Big Cheese” (stop laughing, I said), which was not a rejected Justin Timberlake album title.

Here’s the full fest lineup:

SP20 Comedy Show – Friday, July 11th at The Moore Theatre
Eugene Mirman
Patton Oswalt
Todd Barry
and, of course, “special guests.”

SP20 Festival – Saturday, July 12th at Marymoor Park, Redmond, WA

Fleet Foxes
Flight of the Conchords
The Fluid
The Helio Sequence
Iron and Wine
Low
Mudhoney
Pissed Jeans
Seaweed

SP20 Festival – Sunday, July 13th at Marymoor Park, Redmond, WA

Beachwood Sparks
Comets on Fire
Foals
Grand Archives
Green River
Kinski
No Age
Red Red Meat
The Ruby Suns
Wolf Parade

What, no Shins? And are the guys from Soundgarden just too busy?

Peace at last. 

In my recent forced exposure to “American Idol” — I’m not watching for kicks and jollies — I’ve been continually annoyed by the free ride of Jason Castro, the mewling, frustratingly decaffienated rasta-lite who finally went home last night. But it only happened after he committed a cardinal sin — screwing up the lyrics. Furthermore, he screwed up Bob Dylan lyrics. Why not just blow the words for Francis Scott Key at the next Inaugural?

So, goodbye Jar Jar, and good luck with your future of singing reggae versions of Peter Frampton warhorses. And Syesha … well, the race is already determined, your campaign coffers are being depleted, and you’re loaning yourself money to stay afloat to the next primary. Your only hope is that either David Cook or Archuleta shows up next week, disheveled and confused, and sings Motorhead’s “The Ace of Spades” as a torch song.

1. Roisin Murphy, “Primitive.” The former vocalist for Moloko, Murphy is truly one of the most forward-thinking performers and idiosyncratic voices in alternative pop. This clip was from her “Later with Jools Holland” performance, itself one of the best places to hear and see the future of music.

2. Ween, “The Golden Eel.”

3. Forward Russia, “Seventeen.”

4. The Clientele, “Bookshop Casanova.” The Clientele still make beautiful pop music, but the London group’s latest, God Save the Clientele, offers much more upfront and insistent rhythms that its much gauzier predecessors.

5. Maplewood, “Indian Summer.”

6. Liam Finn, “Lead Balloon.”

7. Lloyd Cole, “Impossible Girl.”

8. Ratatat, “Gettysburg.”

9. The Ruby Suns, “It’s Mwangi In Front of Me.”

10. Claude DeBussy, “Suite Bergamasque: Clair De Lune.” Possibly the most beautiful melody of all time. Cue the Bellagio fountains!