The Best Revenge. Little Theatre, Saturday, May 2. Directed by James Becket.

Next showing tomorrow at 6.15 p.m. at the Liberty Theatre.

Nothing is certain but death and taxes -- but The Best Revenge not winning best movie at this year's Bermuda International Film Festival must come a close third.

A poor man's version of Death and the Maiden with a -- ho hum -- surprise twist in the tale, the US film begins in El Salvador.

The poor Central American country has suffered greatly -- most recently at the hands of American movie makers apparently determined to relive their guilt over Vietnam through their neighbours to the south again and again.

But The Best Revenge is decidedly not the best of a bunch which includes the good Under Fire and the superlative Salvador -- not to mention Death and the Maiden itself.

James Becket, who wrote and directed the movie, definitely has his heart in the right place -- firmly attached to his sleeve, probably.

The action starts in 1992 when Carlos Morales -- well, it had to be Morales -- learns that the mysterious `Mr. Smith', the CIA torturer he encounters in the hell of a Salvadorean police cell and the man apparently responsible for the death of Morales' fiancee, may well be alive and well and living in Los Angeles.

The film hamfistedly weaves the riots following the acquittal of LAPD officers acquitted of beating Rodney King with the tale of Norteamericano nefariousness in Salvador seven years earlier -- thumping home the message of US repression with the subtlety of the LAPD's approach to community policing.

Morales (Brazilian actor Carlos Riccelli in his English debut) crosses the border illegally -- disposing of a couple of ne'er-do-well border guides along the way and conveniently landing himself a wad of dollar bills.

He finds `Mr. Smith' -- aka investment banker David Miller -- with the assistance of an Amnesty-style organisation and takes him captive at gunpoint in his luxury home in a bid to get at the truth.

Miller (Robert Pine) is not only an investment banker, but a would-be Congressman standing on a back-to-basics right-wing Reaganite platform, as well as a Vietnam vet.

Who cares if he is Mr. Smith or not? With a resume like that, shooting's too good for him.

Morales, however, is unsure in the face of Miller's denials that he is the man and can't bring himself to switch on the reading lamp -- the terminals of which he's attached to Miller's nipple and penis in the meantime.

When Ellen (Pat Destro) -- the woman from the human rights agency arrives on the doorstep -- he finds tax evidence that Miller was in South Africa during the Salvadorean civil war.

He should -- a la Death and the Maiden -- have had a look at the record collection.

By the looks of Miller, he must have a little bit of Schubert in there -- or Wagner and the Horst Wessel song, at least.

Morales lets him go and leaves -- but returns in a bid to catch out the alleged ex-CIA killer.

The film still has one more showing to go -- so the remainder of the plot has to be kept under wraps.

But expecting a CIA man to turn knight in shining armour in shades, a khaki bush shirt and baseball cap -- not to mention in a Salvadorean police station -- is stretching the imagination.

And anyone who's been in the military, let alone covert operations, could be expected to know the difference between a pistol loaded with a magazine and one without, a point crucial to the plot -- it's not a heavyweight.

A bit like The Best Revenge (which is living well, of course).

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