Memory Lane: Levinson takes another look back at growing up in Baltimore

High school pals Murray (Gerry Rosenthal), from left, Ben (Ben Foster) and Sheldon (Evan Neuman) face changing times in their "Liberty Heights" neighborhood.

      Plenty of people believe you can't go home again.
      Happily, writer-director Barry Levinson isn't one of them.
      Levinson, who earned an Oscar for directing "Rain Man," has a filmography that ranges from political satire ("Wag the Dog") to hot-button melodrama ("Disclosure"), misfired science fiction ("Sphere") to gleaming period drama ("Bugsy" and "The Natural").
      But his Baltimore hometown has always inspired his most heartfelt work, from his 1982 breakthrough "Diner" and 1987's raucous "Tin Men" to 1990's elegiac "Avalon."
      And now comes the bittersweet "Liberty Heights," which, arguably, takes pride of place as the cream of a blue-ribbon crop -- and offers a shining illustration of how to explore universal truths through impeccably observed specifics.
      In this case, the specifics center on 1954 Baltimore, where people lived in such neat little pigeonholes that saying you lived in Liberty Heights meant you were Jewish -- and insularly so.
      You didn't eat mysterious "luncheon meat" sandwiches on whiter-than-white Wonder Bread smeared with mayonnaise. You didn't swim at a local club with a sign that warned: "No Jews, Dogs or Coloreds." (But you could wonder how -- and why -- Jews always got the top spot on all such exclusionary lists.) And you certainly didn't fraternize with those your parents ominously termed "the other kind."
      But at the dawn of the civil rights era, the winds of change are about to ruffle more than a few lives, including those of Nate and Ada Kurtzman (Joe Mantegna, Bebe Neuwirth) and their two sons, college student Van (Adrien Brody) and his high school senior brother Ben (Ben Foster). The cranky grandmother (Frania Rubinek), safe at home, is beyond such currents -- except indirectly, when she's listening in on her grandsons' telephone conversations.
      At his recently integrated high school, Ben develops a crush on Sylvia (Rebekah Johnson), a lovely, self-possessed doctor's daughter who's the sole black student in his homeroom. And their sweetly burgeoning friendship, which consists mainly of Sylvia introducing Ben to the forbidden delights of her rhythm-and-blues record collection, inspires equal dismay and disapproval on both sides. ("Just kill me now!" Ben's mother wails; Sylvia's father lectures her on -- what else? -- the dangers of mingling with the dreaded "other kind.")
      College man Van, meanwhile, is busy exploring another heretofore off-limits world: the old-money realm of WASP classmates who might as well live on the other side of the world -- even though they only live on the other side of Fells Point Road.
      At a Halloween party, Van glimpses, and instantly falls for, a blond goddess (model Carolyn Murphy) dressed as a fairy princess. Like Cinderella, however, Van must dash from the party long before he can declare his feelings. That's because his motormouth pal Yussel (David Krumholz) -- he's the type who yells "Get ready, folks, Jews are coming!" out the car window when they drive into snooty gentile territory -- gets into a scuffle for refusing to admit his all-too-obvious ethnicity to his smilingly anti-Semitic host.
      "Liberty Heights' " concerns also extend beyond coming-of-age angst, as Nate faces increasing business pressures. As usual, business is bad at the burlesque house Nate runs. After all, nobody wants to come out to watch strippers and baggy-pants comics when they can watch TV at home. Normally, this wouldn't be much of a problem, because the burlesque house is only a cover for Nate's real business: a well-established numbers racket. But when a small-time drug dealer named Little Willie ("Mad TV's" Orlando Jones) hits big, Nate finds himself in business with another kind of "other kind" -- a gleefully unrepentant criminal.
      Neatly dovetailing the movie's three central story lines and the themes they embody, "Liberty Heights" delves into questions of race, religion, class distinction and the then-novel concept of cultural diversity with deceptive ease.
      Levinson's ruefully humorous touch gives such sobering topics a warmth and humanity they might otherwise lack. And while "Liberty Heights" occasionally flirts with outright melodrama -- especially when Van finally gets his tantalizing dream queen all to himself -- the movie's strength rests squarely with its clear-eyed yet undeniably affectionate depiction of the big struggles and small triumphs that make up day-to-day living.
      "Liberty Heights" also emphasizes Levinson's increasing maturity as a filmmaker. Always a gifted writer with a knack for turning a droll phrase, Levinson gradually has become a distinctive if subtle visual stylist. Throughout, he finds striking images -- a saddle shoe used as a puck at a snooty skating party, a hood ornament symbolizing not just the make of a car but its driver's place in the world -- to succinctly summarize the story's ebb and flow.
      And make no mistake, "Liberty Heights" is a movie filled with ebbs and flows, eddies and pauses that draw audiences in, but hardly hurtle them along.
      It's the kind of movie action fans would dismiss with a contemptuous "Nothing happens." But it's also the kind of movie where everything happens within and among its characters.
      Because that's where the action is, the acting plays a crucial role in the movie's success.
      From Mantegna's streetwise dignity to Brody's soulful yearning, from Johnson's radiant composure to Foster's quirky intelligence (you just know Ben's going to grow up to become Levinson), "Liberty Heights" showcases deft performances that add vital shadings to the movie's overall emotional tapestry. (Krumholz deserves a special salute for his hilarious tirades, which recall Paul Reiser's endless nitpicking as "Diner's" mouthy Modell, forever in search of nuance.)
      Throughout Levinson's career -- his more personal career, that is -- the power of memory has played a dominant role. And things are no different in "Liberty Heights."
      At one point, looking back on the pivotal time the movie so vividly portrays, Ben observes: "A lot of images fade. If I knew things would no longer be, I would have tried to remember better."
      It's tough to imagine any movie remembering better than "Liberty Heights" the way we were, long long ago in an America far, far away -- and reminding us how far we've come.
     
      Review
     
      Movie: "Liberty Heights"
      Running time: 127 min.
      Rating: R; profanity, sexual references, mature themes
      Verdict: A-
      Now playing: Gold Coast