Sifting Through Waco’s Ashes : Documentary on tragic siege takes a harsh view of the government.

William Gazecki’s “Waco: The Rules of Engagement,” which screens tonight at 7:30 p.m. at the Simon Wiesenthal Center’s Museum of Tolerance, is a major documentary, a meticulously detailed, step-by-step and terrifyingly persuasive all-out attack on government agencies and officials for their handling of the siege of the Branch Davidian sect outside Waco, Texas, in early 1993, which resulted in more than 80 deaths.

What emerges here is an acute sense of the ongoing struggle in American society between protecting the constitutional freedom of religion and protecting the public from the lunatic fringe.

Gazecki and his colleagues make clear the need for law enforcement agencies--and the public at large--to understand the thinking of religious sects to communicate better with them and, when standoffs occur, to designate highly skilled, highly trained individuals as negotiators.

Drawing from an amazing array of footage from various sources and from many interviews, plus chunks of testimony from the Joint Congressional Committee on Waco held in 1995, Gazecki contends that the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms raided the Branch Davidian compound in February 1993 as an easy way to garner good publicity--only to have four of its men shot to death and six Davidians killed as well. He then argues that the FBI then moved in and, fueled by feelings of revenge, covered up its actions.

Gazecki challenges the FBI claim that its men never fired a single shot in its 51-day siege by showing footage from an infrared video shot by the FBI itself from a helicopter. Dr. Edward Allard, a former supervisor of the U.S. Army’s Night Vision Lab, in examining the footage, concludes that certain flashes could be caused only by FBI gunfire. However, the layman is being asked to take his word for it, because the footage is so blurry.

Gazecki has an easier time in making his case that the FBI, using a strong, highly combustible tear gas combined with a systematic ramming of large holes in the compound walls, through which a prairie wind could flow, caused the complex to catch fire. (Apparently, a large supply of kerosene was also caused to leak because of the attacks.) He does not believe the Branch Davidians set their compound on fire as an act of mass suicide, and he does not flinch in showing just how horrible death was for its victims.

Gazecki maintains a calm, detached tone throughout, which allows us to judge Branch Davidian leader David Koresh for ourselves. Frankly, as a man with a ninth-grade education who not only believed in following a literal interpretation of the Bible, but also an ability to attract followers, he is scary. Even one of his lawyers, an eloquent attacker of the FBI, admits he believes Koresh was guilty of statutory rape. Dick Reavis, who who wrote the first book on the standoff, contends that the Branch Davidians’ large collection of weaponry, some of it illegal, was an inventory--the sect apparently made money in gun dealing--rather than an arsenal. But this view is scarcely comforting. It is an understatement to say that “Waco: The Rules of Engagement” is provocative in every sense of the word. (213) 553-9036.

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The American Cinematheque’s “Two-Fisted Tales: The Films of Sam Fuller,” one of the organization’s most entertaining retrospectives ever, continues Friday at Raleigh Studios with Fuller’s most recent Hollywood film, “White Dog” (1982), which screens at 7:15 p.m. and again on Saturday at the same hour, followed by “Hell and High Water” (1954) at 9:30 p.m. on Friday and by “Fixed Bayonets” (1951) and “House of Bamboo” (1955) at 9:15 p.m. on Saturday.

In 1981, Fuller made a film from Romain Gary’s “White Dog” only to have Paramount shelve it. Like the book, it’s about a white German shepherd trained to attack only black people. Kristy McNichol stars as an aspiring actress who strikes the dog while driving home in the darkness of the Hollywood hills, and Paul Winfield (in one of his best roles) plays an animal farm proprietor determined to retrain the animal in the belief that if a dog can be cured of prejudice instilled by man, then there is hope for curing bigots themselves. Adapted by Fuller and Curtis Hanson, director of the upcoming “L.A. Confidential,” “White Dog” emerges as a disturbing film with a powerful metaphor.

Presented in a new 35-millimeter CinemaScope print, “Hell and High Water” is a vigorous, fast-moving undersea adventure that climaxes with an imaginative and chilling twist reflective of the Cold War era in which it was made. Fuller makes terrific use of the widescreen format, and Richard Widmark heads a cast of actors as strong as himself, including Cameron Mitchell and rugged Fuller favorite Gene Evans.

Widmark plays a World War II veteran recruited by his former captain for an expedition “to the northern tip of the Japanese islands and the Arctic Circle.” A renowned French nuclear physicist (Victor Francen) and his colleagues have learned that Red China may be storing atomic explosives on one of those remote islands. He and Widmark are to lead the mission in an old reconditioned Japanese sub.

“Hell and High Water” is more conventional and less personal than most Fuller films, but it is enjoyable nonetheless, a reminder of a time when in action-adventures people, their values and priorities counted for more than special effects. The real challenge in making “Hell and High Water” had to have been directing Bella Darvi as Francen’s brilliant, multilingual assistant. A Darryl F. Zanuck protegee, she was about as expressive as a cinder-block, but Fuller blends her into his seasoned all-male cast as effectively as possible, coaxing out of her a performance creditable enough not to spoil the show.

Following an 8:15 p.m. $7.50 supper catered by Classic Cuisine, Fuller’s “Fixed Bayonets” (1951) screens at 9:15. A terrific companion film to “The Steel Helmet,” it also takes place during the Korean War, early in 1951. Like the previous picture, it is taut and economic, set in only one key locale, this time a cave high in a snowy mountain pass.

Holed up there is a squad, part of a platoon engaged in a rear guard action in order for a regiment of 15,000 troops to retreat to replenish men and supplies. The two key actors, in reflective portrayals, are Richard Basehart as a World War II vet, a corporal who has lost his nerve, and Gene Evans as the same kind of tough yet compassionate sergeant he played in “The Steel Helmet.”

A master storyteller of much grit and humor, Fuller draws from his own World War II experiences to create a study of character under extreme pressure. Fuller is patriotic without indulging in cheap heroics, with Evans stressing that “killing is a business” and that you’re job is to stay alive. “Fixed Bayonets” was shot gracefully in black-and-white by Lucien Ballard, one of a number of major cinematographers with whom Fuller has worked.

“House of Bamboo” was not available for preview, but if memory serves, it is a handsome, exciting gangster picture set in postwar Japan. Robert Ryan and Robert Stack star. (213) 466-FILM.

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Note: The Nuart will screen a restored 35-millimeter print of Fritz Lang’s 1931 masterpiece “M,” starring Peter Lorre as a child murderer, on Aug. 12-14 and Aug. 16-17. (310) 478-6379.