Well, I’ve got to go one better. Publicists, run with this one: “Sleeping Dogs Lie is the Magnificent Ambersons of canine-cocksucking movies.” — Gerald Peary, Boston Phoenix.

Other worthy movies at Toronto:

THE ISLAND . My nobody-saw-it “discovery,” a diabolic black comedy about a World War II coward who in penance becomes a groveling monk whose daffy advice to the poor is on the cusp of saintliness or insanity. The filmmaker is Pavel Lounguine, who with Taxi Blues (1990) was Russia’s hottest post-glasnost filmmaker. This will be a major comeback if anyone notices.

DAY ON FIRE . Ex-Bostonian Jay Anania’s moody experimental-narrative think piece on post-9/11 living in New York features the filmmaker’s signature Euro-melting of cryptic dialogue, breathtaking images, sharp editing, and the loveliest of young ladies.

MONKEY WARFARE . The fest’s most successful low-low-budget film is about two lost, cynical ex-radicals residing underground in Toronto whose lives are changed with the entry of a vibrant, very attractive, and politically active young woman. Don McKellar and Tracy Wright expertly play the disenchanted couple. Wright’s weary-but-wary performance was my favorite actress turn at Toronto 2006.

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DIXIE CHICKS: SHUT UP AND SING . Barbara Kopple & Cecilia Peck’s rousing documentary follows the Dixie Chicks through their three-year battle with the country-music right over Natalie Maines’s on-stage statement “We’re embarrassed that the president is from Texas.” If you’re furious at red-state bullying, this film is for you. Maines backstage is a righteous firebrand, ever angry at those who turned on the Dixies. The film flows with female energy: in lieu of having backstage orgies, the oft-pregnant Chicks bring babies and husbands on the road. And the music? Up close, Maines’s pipes and those three-part harmonies are a miracle. (Maines could be in deep merde again. She agreed to leave in the film a moment where she turns to the camera and calls George W. “a dumb fuck.”)

The finest evening at Toronto 2006? The world premiere of Guy Maddin’s BRAND UPON THE BRAIN! , a comedic detour into a whirlpool of incest, lunacy, and obsession that typifies the cine-world of the wonderfully demented Winnipeg filmmaker. This one was silent but with live music from the Toronto Symphony Orchestra and, up in the rafters of the Elgin Cinema, singers and sound artists. I interviewed one of them, Maddin’s ex-producer and childhood pal Greg Klymkiw, who in cape and boots and Dr. Zhivago furry hat lip-synched a castrato soprano.

“Castrato refers to one,” he explained. “The actual singing was by a 10-year-old choirboy. My castrato model is Farinelli. I got the part when Guy sent me an e-mail with no text but the subject heading ‘Castrato?’ ”

Klymkiw eyed this reporter admiringly. “This is a scoop! You are the only journalist at Toronto to ask!”