Austin filmmaker Michael Orion Scott already premiered Over the Hills and Far Away, his moving documentary about autism and its impact on a local family, at the Sundance Film Festival in January, which is when we profiled him in our pages. Here's what Marc Savlov had to say about the film: "Over the Hills and Far Away is a documentary that opens a door to new perceptions of what it means to be autistic, what it means to be the parents of an autistic child, and what Western medical practice too often fails to include in its prescription for wellness of all kinds: the power of the spirit." Go here to read the Chron's interview with Scott. Over the Hills and Far Away screens at SXSW Film tomorrow (March 17), 11am, at the Paramount; Thursday, March 19, 1:30pm, at the Alamo South Lamar; and Friday, March 20, 7pm, at the Austin Convention Center.

When the lights came up on this program – introduced as unusually heavy on the comedy – an audience member asked if she’d misheard the intro. Let’s just say the humor found in the (intentionally) humorous shorts was not of the ha-ha variety, more like grins generated by the dark mundanity of dysfunctionality. As in an unfulfilled woman’s ill-fated attempt to right herself by going into therapy with a therapist crazier than she is ("Countertransference"), or an unmarried twentysomething’s attempt to please his aging and out-of-it mom by faking a date ("Winter Lilacs"), or director Amylee Belotti’s hilarious, quick and dirty road map to her malfunctioning nuclear family ("Hi Mom"). Then there was "Cochran"'s droll portrait of a moribund working stiff whose life takes a grotesque turn after a serious injury and "That's My Majesty," a silent film about a princess who comes to the Big Apple to crown her people’s new queen. Getting the picture?

Monday, March 16, 1:30pm, Alamo South Lamar; Wednesday, March 18, 11am, Alamo South Lamar

We first meet Robert King in 1993, he's a precocious 23-year-old, for whom the biggest problem in war-torn Sarajevo is his inability to sell his news photos. From this auspicious start, King develops into one of the world's premiere war photogs; his graphic work (and it is graphic) in warzones like Albania, Rwanda, and Kosovo graces international newspapers and magazines. But while his lens brings clarity to chaos, the conflict within King still writhes. Assembled from nerve-rattling documentary footage spanning back 15 years, director Richard Parry (who shot much of the Sarajevo footage) reveals a moving, haunting, and blackly comic window into the dark heart of human conflict, both internal and external. Or "post traumatic stress syndrome on acid," as King calls it. "The wars didn't fuck me up – I was fucked up before I even went," he says. "That's why I was so good at it."

Monday, March 16, 12pm, Alamo Ritz; Wednesday, March 18, 4:30pm, ACC

Alan Kohl's Roadsworth: Crossing the Line is the story of what happens when Peter Gibson, an unassuming waiter-by-day/street-artist-by-night, becomes a political lightning rod for age-old debates over what constitutes art and how “public” public space really is. Gibson, aka Goldsworth, has an affinity for using stencils and spray paint to cover the screetscapes of Montreal in clever visual punch lines (a stenciled owl resting on the shadow of an actual light pole, the yellow line down the middle of a road transformed into a zipper). When he gets caught and charged with 53 counts of “mischief,” fans come out of the woodwork, and suddenly Gibson is a European art-world darling. Ostensibly about the political maelstrom surrounding Gibson as his hearing approaches (will he fight the charges or “sell out”?), the heart and humor of this film lie in Gibson’s journey as a budding artist and unwitting star. Everyone expects something of Goldsworth; the question becomes, what does the understated waiter – accustomed to exploring his raw talent and wry sense of humor in solitude in the dark of night – expect of himself?

Monday, March 16, 10pm, Hideout Theatre

Here's an anthology of, yes, short animated films – some of them in familiar cartoon style, some stop-motion works, some a sequential flurry of complex paintings. The subjects match the compositional diversity, providing narratives like Felix Dufour-Laperrire's gentle and texturally dense "Rosa Rosa," about a pair of lovers making a home together in the midst of a war-torn city; Laurie Hill's "Photograph of Jesus," in which the strange requests made of an historical photography archive are vividly realized; local man Lance Myers' "Here's the Stapler If You Need It," a kooky and ultimately bloody tale involving the paper cutter at a copyshop; and the incredible claymation mindfuck called "Trepan Hole," a wildly inventive choreography of clay, color, and figures in a landscape as otherworldly and simultaneously familiar as the furrows deep within your own brain. The collection's well worth viewing – multiple times, if you skip the SXSWClick winner "Haunted House." Tuesday, March 17, 11am, Alamo South Lamar; Wednesday, March 18, 1:30pm, Alamo South Lamar

A few years ago, a fellow journalist mused that the difference between a war reporter and a war photographer was that writers try to keep their heads down. Photographers want to see the incoming fire. Blood Trail director Richard Parry probably knows about that. In the Q&A after his documentary's US debut at the SXSW Film Festival on Friday, his fellow war photographer (and the film's subject) Robert King mentioned that Parry once lost a camera when it took a bullet. With the cameras that didn't get shot, he produced a cinematic kin to war photographer Anthony Loyd's groundbreaking autobiography My War Gone By, I Miss It So. It could also have served as an obituary for either himself or King. Taking pictures doesn't make you bulletproof, and the closing credits name eight reporters, all friends and colleagues, who died in the 15 years since the project began. King, who described himself as "the victim of Blood Trail, not the subject," explained, "When we met, it was eight minutes and it was for a short news piece." Over the years, as the two crossed paths in some of the world's bloodiest conflicts, Parry got more and more footage of King.

Although narrative competition film Artois the Goat – a nutty, spry, altogether charming picture about love and artisanal cheese-making – very much stands on its own merits, the fact that it was made by fresh-faced UT grads for a pittance of money certainly sweetens the story. Brothers Cliff and Kyle Bogart took the stage at the Alamo Ritz this afternoon for a post-premiere Q&A, surrounded by cast and crew and practically pelted with love from an enthusiastic audience. Brian Satterwhite’s terrific, Frenchie-inflected original score received special applause, as did the cast, which was plucked from UT’s MFA acting program. Questions were fielded about the film’s many allusions (which ran the gamut from All That Heaven Allows to The Never-Ending Story) and the source name for the titular goat – Kyle was inspired by the beer he used to sling at the Alamo Drafthouse as a server. We suggest Stella Artois give the Bogarts a call – and maybe a fat check for their next production.

Artois the Goat screens again Monday, March 16, 5pm, at the Alamo South Lamar, and Friday, March 20, 7pm, at the Alamo Ritz.

Look for Stanley Kubrick's original vision of A.I. and his unrealized Napoleon project to come out in book form this year, the late director's longtime executive producer and brother-in-law Jan Harlan said during a SXSW Film panel Sunday. The A.I. book will include 25 original drawings from Kubrick's earlier vision for the film, prior to him passing the project on to Steven Spielberg. "In Stanley's hands it would have been so dark," Harlan said, adding that Kubrick saw the story really as a "fairy tale" more suited to Spielberg's talents.

The truth is writers prefer to hide behind the keyboard. So when asked to be under the glare at South By Southwest's Studio SX, I timidly said yes. My subject was Jim Dziura, whose doc Number One With a Bullet looks at hiphop artists who have one thing in common: they've been shot. Dziura (pronounced Jura) interviewed heavyweights like Ice Cube and KRS-One, but found the bigger revelations with smaller names just trying to get by, like The Last Mister Bigg, a fortyish rapper from Alabama who was shot in the head and lost his eye. He promptly replaced it with a fake eye featuring a diamond and changed his name to Diamond Eye. Just as interesting, Diamond Eye is the son of a police officer. "There's a struggle between who he is and the persona he's created," Dziura says. "He's got to sell records. When you're poor, you've got to make money." Dzuira is himself just as interesting. An actual gypsy (of Romani heritage), he is a wanderer whose first feature-length doc Whiskey on a Sunday had him spending two years following the punk band Flogging Molly. These days his pet project involves hopping freight trains for the doc Steel Don't Bend." "I'm not a film buff; I'm an adventure buff," he says of this film subjects to date. Number One With a Bullet screens 10 p.m. Wednesday and 6 p.m. Friday at the Paramount.