In which fashion magazines and terrorists perform the same function

Three movies: Press screening of Little Miss Sunshine. Dysfunctional family drama. Always good to see Alan Arkin. Confused by Sufjan Stevens' "Chicago" played as background music to a drive through New Mexico/Arizona. Loved the little girl. Apparently they run kid's beauty pageants differently in Albuquerque than in Los Angeles, because the girl's parents are shocked shocked at how tarted up the other contestants are. I was with the movie up until the Weekend at Bernie's part. And of course family turns out to be the greatest bond of all by the end of the movie. It's no wonder this "independent" film got picked up right away in Sundance. Oh, and there's the #1 US Proust scholar, who reduces a life's work to a self-actualization program. Another thing I hate is how all the likable characters prove to be likable by laughing good-naturedly at the climactic shocker--in real life, Miss California would be as appalled as all the big hair ladies--and what is poor Mary Lynn Rajskub doing in a one-line role?
Final shot: protagonists drive off down the road, shot from above.
Then to see The Devil Wears Prada: Much better than I expected. Meryl Streep is some sort of genius at comedy. She creates real characters who are much funnier for being unaware of how hilarious they are (as opposed to, say, Clooney in that hillbilly movie). The second movie in which Anne Hathaway starts out gorgeous and then gets a makeover to become far less interesting. I swear that once she starts glopping the mascara on, those preternaturally large eyes become smaller. And her annoying boyfriend wears mascara, too. Stanley Tucci makes a lion face, as does Alan Arkin in Sunshine. Loved the scene where Hathaway's outfits change every time she walks through a door. Hated the outfits, though, but loved watching the sequence. Streep looks great in everything she wears, though. The story could have been written by a computer program, although I appreciate that Hathaway gets to keep her career, and not go running back to her mascara'd chef boyfriend. I can't imagine reading the book of this movie; what could have possessed people to make it a bestseller? The movie was very entertaining, though, despite, or because of, it's predictability.
Final shot: protagonist walks down the road, crane shot.
Then, Cavite, a Filipino-American movie. Absolutely incredible thriller, an amazing percussive score driving the action. A real sense of place for the parts of the Phillipines that tourists don't get to see. The protagonist, guided through terrorist actions by a voice on the telephone; like Hathaway, he comes to a fuller sense of himself through his interaction with a Satanic character--although coming to an understanding of himself as a Filipino and a Muslim is perhaps a little more important than finding a good job at the Village Voice (if such a thing existed these days). This is the sort of movie that makes me fully embrace digital filmmaking--the whole thing seems, and probably was, a guerilla production. Certainly the shots on the airplane were stolen. Besides being as exciting as any summer blockbuster I've seen in many a summer, it's a rich film about ethnic identity in a changing world.
Final shot: repitition of opening shot (or is it the identical shot?)