McCORMICK'S QUICK TAKES.

The Red Violin (Lions Gate Films, 1999) Can artifacts carry our dreams?

In Francois Girard's lushly scored film about the 300-year pilgrimage of an exquisitely crafted violin, it's hard to imagine that some of the instrument's plaintive resonance isn't from all the blood, sweat, and tears that have soaked into the varnish.

Embedded in Joshua Bell's haunting performance of John Corigliano's score are traces of the lives forged and broken by their contact with this magnificent reliquary.

In a story that is sometimes less than the sum of its parts, we still catch a hint of music's redemptive spirit. ** 1/2

Buena Vista Social Club (Artisan Entertainment, 1999) The power of music is also at the heart of this Wire Wenders documentary about a spritely band of pre-revolutionary Cuban musicians in their 70s, 80s, and 90s.

Assembled out of retirement for a series of European and American concerts, these upper generians back up lead vocalist Ibrahim Ferrer in a medley of hot mambos and boleros transporting their audience to a Cuba that will never pass away.

Punctuated by engaging interviews with elderly tykes still vibrantly animated by the Latin pulse and rhythm of their music, it is a film to keep the toes and heart tapping. ***

Three Seasons (October Films, 1999)

In Tony Bui's delicately evocative first feature film, the Vietnam that resisted French colonials and Westmoreland's divisions is slowly giving way to the relentless tides of globalization.

Harvey Keitel plays one of the characters featured in three inter locking tales about the fading of a lotus blossom culture; a woman, a man, and a child are caught in the moment before everything turns to neon and plastic.

This is a sweet, melancholy film about the importance and the loss of the traditions that hold us in place, about the possibility of reconciliation and forgiveness. ***

The Blair Witch Project (Artisan Entertainment, 1999) Forget Spielberg and Lucas! Here's a film that proves that the scariest special effects are still fashioned in the cavern between our ears, and that even the merest hint or trace of terror can be as edgy and frightening as Godzilla's footprints or a T-Rex in the rearview.

Made with less money and equipment than a home movie, this odd, gritty, and often comic tale of three hapless filmmakers in search of their own stalker relies on the smallest tricks to create the deadliest effects--and often enough delivers the same punch we got hearing these tales tot the first time at 9 or 10. (Beware of rough language.) ** 1/2